Dawn Hyperdrive and the Terrestrial Watches of Terror

Dawn Hyperdrive and the Terrestrial Watches of Terror

by Sharilyn Grayson

Dawn Hyperdrive and the Terrestrial Watches of Terror

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 by Sharilyn Grayson

Cover art by Robbie Grayson

Author photograph by Michael Tyler

ISBN: 9781310615764

License Note

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For Jennie

With love and gratitude

Contents

Chapter One: Take Your Daughter to Work Day

Chapter Two: We’re All on the Same Team Here

Chapter Three: Planes, Transports, and Galaxy-Class Starships

Chapter Four: Things Go Horribly Wrong

Chapter Five: Now Would Be a Good Time to Panic

Chapter Six: Tasers and Phasers and Dragons – Oh, My!

Chapter Seven: Tricks

Chapter Eight: Unmasked

Chapter Nine: Family Matters

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Chapter One: Take Your Daughter to Work Day

For the fourth time in one hour, Kevin tripped in gym class and fell to his knees.

It wasn’t his fault. Hours of skateboarding had made him strong, and learning to pilot an interstellar transport last fall had improved his already good reflexes. The fitness training required at the Universe Protection Agency academy on board the starship Hero had shaped and toughened him. But being wiry and agile didn’t save him from the guy in front of him who kept tripping him and smirking.

An oversized goon named Montague Curbit whom everyone called Li’l Bit as a joke was directly in front of Kevin in line for fitness testing. And Kevin was smoking him and nearly everyone else in class, a fact that the coach announced regularly. Not everybody was as jazzed about how great Kevin was as Coach Harding.

The loser stoner types, the ones Li’l Bit followed like a lost puppy, jerked him hard nods of approval for his efforts. The team sport guys eyed Kevin resentfully, and the spindly geeks pointedly refused to acknowledge his existence, while the rich, popular guys just lifted their eyebrows and smirked whenever he went sprawling, as if he were getting what he deserved. According to popular opinion, he probably was.

Kevin already had a couple of strikes against him before he ever walked through the doors at Jefferson High. First, he was biracial, a fact everyone would have overlooked if he was rich or brilliant or dangerous or fabulous at team sports. Second, he was far from well-off, though that strike was slowly changing with his dad’s new job as a security guard for Chuff Jumbley, the famous televangelist. Third, Kevin had arrived past the middle of the school year, a new freshman with no connections from middle school last year.

At first, the loser stoner types thought he might be one of them. But when he refused, as non-judgmentally as he could, their offers to share weed and break things, they abandoned him to the attentions of freaks like Li’l Bit, who was at the very bottom of the high school food chain. Kevin ranked below him.

Kevin picked himself up, brushed off the gym floor dust, and forced his temper down and his expression to neutral. This place doesn’t matter. Just a few more hours here, and you can get back to what does. He pictured his backpack and his slim, transparent tablet computer, on which he’d been doing UPA academy coursework instead of the assignments from Jefferson High. That computer was also his connection to all of his friends: Bede, Snick, Ling, Anderson, and Tilde.

They talked to him regularly and explained the parts of his UPA academy work that he didn’t follow. They also offered him sympathy for being stuck at home. He was missing a lot, and not just a lot of lectures and assignments.

Since Kevin had left, the Hero had wrapped up its business on Bortron-3, transferring the stored treasure on Bortron-4 to a bank in the Delta Galaxy that was licensed by the Intergalactic Confederation of Planets and that was not run by a group of embezzling, shape-changing, child-eating giants, as the bank on Bortron-3 had been. After the Hero left Bortron-3 and transferred to the Pegasus its cargo of giant prisoners bound for the ICP’s Central Internment Facility a four-month journey away, the ICP had sent representatives to the mer-people. But they did not qualify for membership in the ICP.

Humans on Earth finally did. Kevin briefly smiled as he remembered the shock of the world when ICP representatives arrived at the United Nations for the first time. To nearly everyone on Earth, the sight of real, authentic, honest-to-goodness aliens in New York City had been shocking at a gut level. Some people were ecstatic. Some had been terrified. Religious leaders all over the world were predicting the beginning of their various apocalypses.

But Kevin had only breathed a sigh of relief at first. He didn’t have to watch his every word to make sure he didn’t break his promise of secrecy about the inhabited universe, especially around his mom and dad. The other cadets from Earth felt the same way. Mogo Ling, Dana Anderson, and Tilde Carlsdottir, who were still in outer space aboard the Hero, were rock stars in their communities. The ICP sponsored public telecasts so that the cadets could talk about their training in the academy and their friendship with beings from different worlds.

And that’s where the difference was between them and him. Kevin wasn’t part of those interviews. Lots of people had popped up claiming to be alien or part alien or vowing that they’d been to space before. And because Kevin hadn’t been on those initial telecasts, he looked like just another fraud trying to climb on the alien bandwagon. No wonder his gym class stepped out of the way and let Li’l Bit pick on Kevin with impunity.

Coach Harding clapped his hands for attention, and like the football referee he was on the weekends, he waved his arm toward the next station. Last activity, gentlemen: rope climbing! he announced.

Careful to watch for sneak attacks, Kevin trooped over to the hanging rope behind Li’l Bit and sighed. He knew that life would be a lot easier for him if he pretended to climb slowly or fall. But he had resolved to keep in shape and stay current with his UPA coursework so that he could go back to the academy one day, when Dad changed his mind. Although from what Kevin could tell, Dad wasn’t changing it any time soon, Kevin still wasn’t going to give up.

As Kevin watched the kids in line alphabetically in front of him climbing the rope, he frowned. Dad resented the UPA, specifically Commander Dawn Hyperdrive, for taking his children off planet without his knowledge or permission not just once, but twice. Last summer, Dawn Hyperdrive had taken the Dearman kids to Rexette to help her catch Mrs. Scales, a dangerous space pirate who turned out to be a dragon in disguise. During that adventure, Kevin’s youngest sister Mikayla had been kidnapped and magically changed into an adult for a few hours.

And just last Christmas after his first semester at the academy (his parents thought that he was at a police training academy in California), one of the giant bankers had followed Kevin home, kidnapped Mikayla, and taken her to Bortron-3. Jenna had flown with a friend to Rexette to search for her sister, but Kevin had found Mikayla locked deep in a vault on Bortron-3. Though the UPA had nothing to do with Jenna or Mikayla going to space, Dad blamed the UPA for the danger to all three of his kids, and he had pulled Kevin out of the academy, enrolling him at Jefferson High the day after he got home.

Kevin could see Dad’s point, but seeing Dad’s point didn’t make him feel any better about being left behind and separated from his friends. And Dad’s new boss, Chuff Jumbley, definitely wasn’t helping him change his mind. Chuff regularly warned everyone who tuned in to his show about the evils of the space men. They were wicked and devious, Chuff declared, and like Dad, a lot of people listened.

Jenna was there at work with Dad today, because it was national Take Your Daughter to Work Day. I sure wish it was Take Your Son to Work Day instead. Even if Jenna does have to put up with weirdo Jumbley, at least she isn’t at school.

Kevin absently watched the rope, where Li’l Bit was huffing and puffing downwards and fixing Kevin with a baleful glare, daring him to do better again. Li’l Bit landed heavily on the wood gym floor, and Kevin veered away from him as he walked forward to take his turn.

One, two, three – go! Coach Harding counted.

Kevin seized the rope and scrambled up, hand over hand, gripping and pushing with his feet. He remembered watching Bede and his uncle, Lieutenant Alfred Fellowes, climbing barefoot up sheer rock and metal. He inwardly laughed at how clumsy he must look by comparison. But he doggedly pushed himself, ignoring the sweat in his eyes in the fuggy gym on this warm April afternoon. He touched the top and slid downward recklessly, feeling the burn in his hands and applying his feet and hands only nominally as brakes.

Coach Harding clicked his stopwatch, announced Kevin’s time, and added, That’s the best in the class, Kevin – way to go! Coach looked around at the other guys, trying to get an attaboy or a thumbs-up, but the class looked back at him incredulously.

The bell rang, and the students trooped off. Coach Harding called after them, Hit the showers, guys! But Kevin knew that the coach was wasting his breath. Only the pretty boys showered after gym, and they sure weren’t the ones who needed it most.

Kevin hung back, letting Li’l Bit get out of tripping distance. Coach Harding must have sensed an invitation to talk, because he clapped a solid, beefy hand on Kevin’s shoulder.

You’re a real athlete, Kevin. You should go out for football, get on the team in time for summer camp, Coach Harding enthused.

Kevin knew what football summer camp was like: spending your days running and drilling through unbreathable air while the mercury in the thermometer sweated towards the hundred-degree mark. It also meant trying to get in good with the team sport guys, most of whom seemed like they might have been decent apart from the upperclassmen. As the seniors and juniors who played most often were real jerks to everyone, including each other, they soured the mood of the guys who spent time around them.

No, thanks, Coach, Kevin said. I’m pretty sure I’ll be working in the fall, as soon as I turn fifteen. I won’t be able to make the games.

Coach shook his head. It’s a shame. We’re losing out on a great player.

Kevin lifted a noncommittal hand and walked to the locker room, which, expectedly, stank. He kept his eyes low; he didn’t exactly want to see his classmates sweaty and half-dressed. So he didn’t notice until he was right in front of his book bag that it was open and that Li’l Bit was sneering and holding up in its inconspicuous black case Kevin’s only connection to the life he loved: his clear tablet. Kevin stopped suddenly and went still.

Thanks for the present, Dearie, Li’l Bit taunted, waving the tablet and using the nickname Kevin had heard on and off since kindergarten. Li’l Bit wasn’t exactly creative.

Put it down, Kevin said quietly, blood pounding in his ears.

It’s mine now. Didn’t you guys hear him say I could have it? Li’l Bit demanded. Some of the loser stoners around him nodded or smiled slowly and unpleasantly.

Put it down now, Kevin repeated as helplessness and anger welled in him.

Why, punk? Li’l Bit asked, holding the tablet out of reach. You gonna make me?

Kevin’s fists tensed at his sides, itching to smash this goon’s face in. He couldn’t imagine life if that tablet broke, effectively marooning him in tiny Jefferson. Maybe, he said, trying to exercise control. He imagined Lieutenant Fellowes’ mellow voice urging him toward calm and reason.

The stoner losers around Li’l Bit laughed, and encouraged, Li’l Bit put the tablet into his own backpack. You’re not gonna do crap, Dearie; so why don’t you just walk away before you get hurt?

Forget it, Kevin thought. Then he threw the first punch.

Jenna took a last, noisy sip of her Lime Alive through the straw Chuff Jumbley’s secretary had popped into the can earlier, and then she noticed the sudden silence. All the eyes in the glass-walled conference room looked at her. Embarrassed, she looked down quickly and put her can on the carpet.

Standing beside her, Jenna’s dad patted her shoulder reassuringly, and soon the noise level in the room rose again. But minutes of hot-eared shame passed before Jenna raised her head. Whoever invented Take Your Daughter to Work Day obviously didn’t think things through. If I’m learning anything today, it’s sure not about any potential career as a security guard. I’m learning more about being a televangelist, and I don’t like it.

The more time she spent around Chuff Jumbley, the surer she was that something was wrong with him. At first she had thought that she was just reacting to his face, which was admittedly weird. Shiny, pink skin stretched over unnaturally large cheeks, a long upper lip, a high forehead, and a weak chin in a combination that would have looked at home in a Dr. Seuss book. His smile was wider than normal, too, but his eyes were small and dark. And the hair on the top of his head was pure white and fluffy, combed upright in a neat coif that reminded Jenna of the synthetic wool on a stuffed lamb she had gotten once in an Easter basket.

But she wasn’t just reacting to his face, she finally decided. The man oozed falseness, from his perpetually raised eyebrows and glad-handing schmooze to his air of self-important secrecy, which included his hiring three bodyguards – one for each eight-hour shift of the day - so that he was never alone. Three bodyguards – who ever heard of a preacher with three bodyguards? Jenna thought distastefully.

And Chuff Jumbley was just too intense. Take this meeting, for example. The room was full of religious leaders and philanthropists from all over the world. Around the conference table, Jenna saw thin, brown men in bright robes; big, dark men in light, well-cut suits; bearded, wizened men in white robes; and pale, tall men in dark, expensive suits. Though all of them exuded power, Chuff Jumbley harangued them like minions.

Jenna had thought that men from so many different cultures would need a translator or would speak English, but they all spoke a language Jenna didn’t know. She had been sitting in this conference room for close to two hours now, and she hadn’t heard a single word she recognized. And the whole time, Chuff Jumbley had perched on the edge of his seat, interjecting and arguing with blazing eyes as if he spoke his native tongue.

Jenna wished that she could understand what everyone was saying. At least that would provide some kind of entertainment. She thought of her friend Bianca, who wore earbud translators that everyone at school assumed were hearing aids. If I’d thought ahead of time, I could have borrowed some of them from Bianca; then at least I would know what’s going on.

Bianca had made all the difference to Jenna at school. Now Jenna no longer sat alone in class and at lunch, and most days, Willow drove Jenna home so that she and Bianca could do their homework together while Willow roamed the extensive woods separating the fields around Jenna’s house. Jenna didn’t dread school the way she had before.

Neither did Bianca. She didn’t cry in the halls, and now that she was so much less touchy, people had stopped teasing her as much. She liked living in Mrs. Spears’ roomy house, even though Mrs. Spears wasn’t there anymore, and the principal had let her continue at Jefferson Middle despite the move because she’d begun the year there. But her nice new house and her friendship with Jenna weren’t the only reasons Bianca felt so much more relaxed.

Mrs. Spears kept a tablet at her house so that she could contact the UPA, and Bianca’s sister Blanche had a tablet just like it. So now, even though Blanche led the commoner rebels in their fight against the royals on Rexette, she could talk face to face with her little sister as often as her life allowed. Bianca was much happier now that she and her sister were in touch.

Bianca hoped, too, that the war would be over soon. Blanche had told her sister about an assault on Queen Mab’s castle that the rebels had planned. If they won, Rexette would be at peace soon. Then Bianca could go home with her sister instead of just talking to her on a tablet.

When Bianca talked to Blanche now, she usually talked to Mrs. Spears, too. Mrs. Spears had left months ago to help the commoners in their fight. Eric had left at the same time, but he wasn’t with Mrs. Spears. During one of their conversations, Bianca had asked whether Eric was serving on the Hero, but Mrs. Spears had shaken her head. "The UPA doesn’t think he’s safe as an officer anymore, not since those Wax Dolls stole him and used him to board the Hero. The UPA repaired him; they owed him that. But Eric is retired, and whatever he does, he does to help me."

Bianca cared a whole lot more about Eric Hyperdrive than Jenna did. To Bianca, Eric was almost like an uncle or an older brother who helped her with math and helped Willow in the garden. But Jenna had never forgotten the Eric who had turned up his nose at babysitting and who seemed to resent her instant closeness with his sister, Dawn Hyperdrive.

Jenna wistfully remembered Dawn Hyperdrive and her spaceship, the Hero. Now that Dad knew about the UPA and disliked them so much, Jenna didn’t think she’d ever get to go to space again. And as harrowing and dangerous as some of those experiences had been, she had loved being somewhere so different.

Unlike this conference room, Jenna thought impatiently. The pastel Formica table sat in the center of the glass walls that showed the halls on either side of the room. The mauve tweed upholstered chairs around the table bounced and gave distractingly. And the whole place smelled like new plastic and fresh paint in a way that was giving Jenna a headache. She reached for her Lime Alive and then, remembering just in time that it was gone and that she would make another horrible slurping sound if she tried to drink again, she withdrew her hand quickly.

But Chuff Jumbley, who seemed to miss nothing, held up a hand to the men around him in the universal request for a pause and punched a button on the phone and intercom in front of him.

Miss Petoskey? Mr. Dearman’s little girl would like another soda, please. I’m afraid we’re running a little long in here. Chuff Jumbley smiled even more widely at Jenna, who tried to smile politely back at that terrible, fake, monkey-ish face.

Dad nudged Jenna lightly, and Jenna hurriedly said, Thank you, Mr. Jumbley.

That’s quite all right, little lady, Jumbley chortled. It’s nearly lunch time anyway. I’ll just ask Miss Petoskey to order us all something while she’s in here. It’s awfully lucky you were thirsty right when you were, Miss Dearman.

Jenna felt her mouth tighten into the imitation of a smile that she used when she was irritated. She didn’t like grownups who talked down to her, as Jumbley definitely did. She pretended to be interested in the people coming and going in the lobby, hoping that he would go back to his discussion and forget all about her.

One of the men across the table said something in that strange language, and then the men all seemed to jump on his point, trying to speak at the same time. Whatever Chuff Jumbley said in response, he snapped in the argumentative tone he’d used all morning. Jenna wondered briefly whether it irritated the other men around the table as much as it irritated her.

When the door to the conference room opened, Jenna looked up again and saw Miss Petoskey carrying a cold can of Lime Alive with a fresh straw inside it. She smiled her thanks and took a grateful sip while Chuff Jumbley called his secretary over to make arrangements for lunch. But then Jenna froze and blushed.

Every single one of the men around the conference table was looking intently at her – all but Chuff Jumbley, who was listing entrees and salads and desserts from a luxurious restaurant where Mom and Dad went only for an anniversary dinner once every few years. Through her embarrassment, Jenna wondered what she had done to invite such blatant inspection from the men around the table.

She stared back at them, intending to let them know how rude they were being. And then she noticed something odd. More than half the men had shaken their robe or suit coat sleeves back during the course of the discussion, and she noticed that they wore chunky, burnished steel watches with four smaller