As the group digested Gibiwink’s announcement, the parachute carried them over the lake. Observing the hills and red water below, Lewis found the area unfamiliar. He couldn’t believe his family had once camped there. At the same time he felt vaguely apprehensive. Never mind that they had attained their goal — as Atara had insisted, the place seemed … spooked.
“We have to reach those crests,” Todrus said. “They’re the ones Elizabeth Grumpel described.”
“Let’s steer toward them,” Lewis agreed. “Adelaide, Alfonse, pull to your left.”
The Pangettis pulled for all they were worth, and the parachute veered and approached the two hills. When it overshot their target, everyone yelled in panic — they were terrified they would end up in the bloodlike liquid. Todrus pitched his weight to one side, while the Stranger chewed a hole in the fabric. Bit by bit the parachute drifted back until it floated above the larger crest.
There wasn’t time to waste. Loosening their belts, they dropped onto the soil — it was rubbery and cushioned their fall. A moment later the parachute shot into the air and was soon just a tiny speck in the distance.
“Let’s eat something,” Lewis advised as soon as the parachute faded from sight. “And then we’ll hunt for my mother’s lock.”
Everyone thought this was a good idea, and Alfonse sprayed the ground with his food transformer. But it was odd. Nothing happened. The spray had no effect.
“Your equipment must be broken,” Adelaide said. “I’ll use mine.”
She sprayed the soil, as did Lewis and the frogs. The results were the same — the earth didn’t change.
“What do we do now?” Gibiwink asked.
“Without these transformers we’ll starve,” Alfonse wailed. “It’s like episode 31 when The Bombardier —”
He would have rambled on, despite his sister’s frown, if the Stranger hadn’t motioned them to silence. It was probing the soil and looked very concerned. “We’re not standing on a hill. We’re on something … alive.”
“That’s impossible!” the group exploded, “Nothing grows this big!”
“Whether you like it or not,” the Stranger insisted, “this entire mountain is a living creature. Luckily, it’s been thrown into a trance of some sort.”
“How can you tell?” Alfonse finally asked. “These look like genuine hills to me.”
“It’s talking in its sleep,” the Stranger explained, “and that translation brew is still inside me. It keeps muttering, ‘Let me go, let me go, let me go.’”
“That’s impossible!” everyone began again, but Lewis cut them off.
“I’m afraid it all makes sense,” he declared. “The puzzle’s been solved.”
As the group turned their gaze on him, Lewis ran through what they knew already. Alienus came from a different planet. Grumpel used it in all his inventions, but his supplies were running thin. He did have more of the stuff on hand, only it wasn’t quite “ripe” and had to develop — that explained why he had altered the Yellow Swamp region. This new climate would allow the substance to … hatch.
“So far so good,” Alfonse said. “Now tell us something new.”
“He just did,” Adelaide insisted. “He used the word hatch.”
“Do you remember,” Lewis asked, facing the two frogs, “how you described Grumpel’s destruction of this region? You said his henchmen dropped a stone into the swamp?”
“Yes, it was six feet high and shaped like an egg,” Gibiwink said.
“Like an egg, exactly,” Lewis confirmed.
Todrus looked aghast. “Wait! Are you —”
“Yes,” Lewis continued, “the object was an egg. And it wasn’t a meteorite that struck Grumpel’s farm, but a creature just like this one here. It provided him with Alienus but, five years on, it’s all used up. Lucky for him there was an egg left over, but it had to be hatched in the right surroundings, in an environment that would resemble the alien’s planet. Obviously, he couldn’t transform New York City — he would have called attention to his plans — so that’s why he altered Yellow Swamp instead. Fewer people would notice in northern Alberta.”
“And the lock?” Adelaide asked. “Why would Grumpel need —”
“He installed it,” Lewis answered, “to hold the creature until it became full-grown. Now that it’s an adult, he’s ready to free it.”
As they considered his words, and marvelled that an alien was lying beneath them, Lewis sized the creature up. What sort of lock could keep a mass like this in place?
“But wait,” Alfonse said, “what will stop it from leaving once we’ve opened the lock? How can Grumpel —”
“Think about his guards,” Lewis suggested.
Alfonse was confused. “His guards? How do they tie in?”
“I get it!” Adelaide cried. “The guards were wearing rings, remember, and that’s how Grumpel is able to control them. He uses radio signals.”
“There you go,” Lewis said, leafing through his booklet. “I’ll bet this alien’s wearing a receiver, which will kick in the instant the lock is broken. In other words, it can’t run off, but will return to Grumpel like a dog to its master. There!”
He tapped an entry in the index — oxygen supply. Before his friends could ask what he was up to, he selected four vials and tore a strip off his outfit. Using this fabric as a mixing base, he blended the chemicals and produced a sickly green concoction.
“But we have to free this creature,” Gibiwink moaned. “How?”
“That’s my concern,” Lewis insisted, taking off his shoes and socks. He then removed the poem’s ingredients and handed them to Todrus. “I want you to analyze these chemicals and find out what happens if you mix them.”
“I … what … when …” Todrus stammered. Finally, he said, “I’ll do my best.”
“Try to find an answer by the time I get back.”
“Get back?” the group demanded. “Where are you going?”
“I’m off to find the lock, of course.”
“But where will you look?” Alfonse asked.
“Down there.” Lewis motioned to the blood-red water. As the others told him he was out of his mind, he reminded them of Elizabeth’s words — that they would find the lock at the base of these “hills.” Saying that, he bolted the mixture down.
Almost instantly his tongue swelled up like a miniature balloon. Compressing it, he felt a jet of air shoot out, just as the entry in the book had predicted. He smiled at his friends — his oversize tongue made speaking difficult — then approached the creature’s edge and jumped.
The next thing he knew the fluid had engulfed him. In was pleasantly warm and like jam in texture but lacked the buoyancy of normal water — it was only by pumping his arms and legs briskly that he could counteract its downward pull.
Luckily, the fluid was translucent. From above it had seemed dark and spooky, but the sky’s dull light was passing straight through it. True, it wasn’t perfectly clear, but it did let him see maybe ten feet ahead. And while water blackened the deeper one sank, this substance retained the same brightness throughout.
It was time to dive. Keeping the creature’s flanks to his right — the thing was like an ocean liner — he folded his arms and sank ten feet, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five … He wondered how far it was to the bottom and, more important, how long his oxygen would last. The brew was amazing, though. By compressing his tongue every half-minute, he was able to keep his air supply steady.
Lewis continued sinking. Again unlike water, which got colder the deeper one dived, this fluid became hotter and hotter until he worried it might scald him. Its pressure also didn’t change as he sank.
Without warning he struck bottom. A veil of mud spiralled around him, like ink being squirted from a fountain pen. Glancing up, he spied a trail of bubbles, one that climbed all the way to the surface. He also saw that the creature was vast. Lewis might have been standing at the foot of a castle the way its bulk towered above him.
What’s keeping you in place? he mused as he travelled past its flanks.
Lewis walked around the creature, poking and prying and inspecting its surface. There wasn’t any sign of a lock — no bars, no chains, no titanium walls. And if the Stranger hadn’t told him otherwise, he would have sworn he was dealing with a rock formation. If it really was an alien, what was keeping it immobile? He glanced around in frustration, unsure what he was looking for.
Wait! The swamp’s bottom was tilted downward. He swam off from the creature and held his face to the floor, working hard to churn his way through the fluid. Ten yards, fifty, a hundred he travelled. He was thinking he was searching for a needle in a haystack when he happened to stumble and …. aha! There was a hole of some kind!
It was round, wide, and six feet deep. It also marked the lowest part of the swamp. The ground surrounding it sloped slightly upward, like the porcelain around a bathtub drain. He dropped into the hole and landed ankle-deep in mud. Falling to his knees, he scraped the muck to one side. He toiled diligently until … a glint flashed out!
It turned out he was standing on a metal disk. It was the size of a sewer head and constructed from chronolium, a bluish-silver metal that was impossible to blast through. As Lewis stroked the disk, he felt a lump in his throat — he was kneeling on the last of his mother’s achievements.
Lewis was about to examine the disk more closely, but suddenly his air wasn’t flowing so well. The oxygen mix was starting to fail! Without wasting a second he shot toward the surface.
He had been under too long. Paddling frantically away from the bottom, he squeezed his tongue and produced a weak stream of air. How far was the surface? Sixty feet at least.
His limbs were like concrete. His lungs were on fire. Three times, four, he compressed his tongue and barely produced a mouthful of air. He was thrashing upward as hard as he could but was hardly able to prevent himself from sinking, let alone swim through fifty feet of “jam.”
He paused for a moment to rest … and plunged fifteen feet.
That’s it, he thought. I’m as good as gone.
He wasn’t. A pair of arms grabbed him and propelled him upward as if he had hitched a ride on a speeding submarine. He squeezed his tongue in desperation. Not the slightest bit of air was produced. Help! Hurry! He was starting to shake. Five more seconds and his chest would explode!
He broke the surface with a terrific splash. Gobs of oxygen filled his lungs, sweet as sugar, more precious than gold.
“Aruhokay?” Gibiwink asked, clutching him still. The frog’s speech and bulging cheeks revealed that he had swallowed some of the oxygen brew.
When Lewis nodded between deep gasps, Gibiwink explained he had jumped in after him because it was crazy for anyone to dive alone. A good thing, too. If he hadn’t left that bubble trail behind …
“Thanks,” Lewis said, tapping the frog. At the same time he began swimming to the “hills” where his friends were anxiously awaiting his return.
“U thood west,” Gibiwink advised, swimming beside him. “U uhmotht died …”
“There isn’t time to rest,” Lewis panted. “I know the swamp’s secret, except for one detail, and I’m hoping Todrus has pieced it together.”
Again the frog propelled him forward. In no time at all they were nearing the creature — it was like pulling up to a ship at anchor — and Lewis asked for Todrus, after assuring everyone he was feeling okay.
“Hello!” Todrus hailed him. “Aren’t you coming up?”
“No,” Lewis answered. “Have you looked at those ingredients?”
“Yes. That blue stone contains an anabolic compound, while the flower, if its anhydrolic base is changed —”
“Thpeak in Englith!” Gibiwink yelled.
“The ingredients can be mixed to form a powerful acid. It won’t do anything to glass or skin but will eat through metal in a matter of seconds.”
“Bingo!” Lewis cried in triumph. After praising Todrus for his expertise — the frog actually blushed with pleasure — he asked how long it would take to prepare the acid. When Todrus answered a mere five minutes, Lewis told him to go ahead and to place the acid in an empty vial. He then called on Adelaide to mix a large batch of the oxygen brew and to store it in a vial, as well. Without questioning his orders she set to work.
In the meantime the pair continued to float. As they waited, Lewis explained the situation to Gibiwink — how the swamp was like a tub with a chronolium plug, a metal that very few acids could melt through.
“So dat’s wad de poem was descwibin’,” Gibiwink said, his tongue gradually returning to normal. “A recipe for bweakin’ up de cwonowium pwug?”
“Exactly,” Lewis said.
“But why would Grumpeh biwld a giand dub?”
“Look at this creature. Grumpel knew your average lock would be useless against it, so he had my mother trap it in a chemical bath.”
“U mean?”
“As long as the creature’s in this fluid, it can’t move or awaken or do anything violent. It’s stuck, like a bike that’s been chained to a fence.”
“So if you destwoy dat pwug, de swamp will dwain away?”
“Yes, through a network of pipes just under the swamp. And with the fluid gone, the creature will awaken.”
Gibiwink had another question — would they be able to escape before the alien broke free? — but Todrus hailed them from the “hill” just then.
“It’s done!” he cried. “I’ve got the acid!”
“And the brew’s ready, too,” Adelaide added.
“Great!” Lewis said. “Now tell everyone to join us.”
“Join you? Are you sure?”
“Yes, and hurry please!”
As the group organized things above, Lewis told Gibiwink why they had to jump. If they waited until the swamp was drained, there would be no water to cushion their fall. At the same time, with the fluid gone, the creature —
Splash! The Stranger landed nearby, Todrus followed, then the Pangettis appeared.
“Listen,” Lewis declared after greeting his friends, “Gibiwink and Todrus will help me dive. The rest of you start swimming to shore. No matter what, you mustn’t stop. No matter what. Do you understand?”
“But I want to help,” Alfonse said.
“We do, too,” the others insisted.
“We’ll look after him,” Todrus promised. “You three should get moving.”
After a few more protests, the trio agreed. Handing Lewis the oxygen mix, Adelaide and the others started off. Because the shore was at least a mile away, they had their work cut out for them.
“Good luck!” everyone called to one another.
After allowing them a five-minute lead, Lewis asked the frogs to hold him steady. He then swallowed part of the oxygen mix and gagged a little as his tongue swelled up. The frogs followed suit. As soon as the brew kicked in, they began their dive.
Linking limbs, they plummeted like cannonballs. A minute later they were on the bottom and poised before the base of the creature. At Lewis’s prompting the frogs swam close to the floor, disturbing its mud with thrusts from their flippers, and in no time at all they arrived at the “drain.”
Lewis dropped into the hole. His aim was to clear the mud from the disk so that the acid could be applied to its chronolium surface. The frogs helped out by reaching into the drain, flailing their flippers and dispelling the grime.
There it was.
Even in that blood-red fluid the chronolium gleamed with hypnotic beauty. It looked strong enough to absorb a nuclear blast. Lewis sighed and stroked the plug again, amazed that his mother had built such a system.
Todrus pointed at his mouth — a warning that their air might fail. Lewis nodded and produced the vial, whose syrupy contents seemed … disappointing. How could it dissolve a solid layer of chronolium? Full of doubt, he held the vial near the plug, turned it upside down, and removed the stopper. When the paste oozed out, he assumed it would break up in the fluid, but it settled in a clump on the metal’s brilliant finish.
Ten seconds passed. Nothing happened. Lewis fanned his hand to spread the paste more evenly, but it remained in a clump and triggered no reaction.
Thirty seconds passed. Had they been wrong about the poem? Had it been a bit of nonsense verse, with no bearing whatsoever on his mother’s locking system? If so, how would they destroy this disk, assuming he was right and it really was a plug? Unless it wasn’t and he had been wrong all along …
He gasped as the frogs yanked him out of the hole.
The chronolium was blistering in front of their eyes. Its blue-silver length was now a pale yellow, and a blanket of heat engulfed the trio, as if the door to a roaring furnace had been opened. Flames were breaking out inside the fluid. While Lewis was afraid, he was also ashamed. He shouldn’t have doubted his mother’s instructions.
Grabbing Lewis, the frogs took off. They covered twenty yards in a matter of seconds and increased their distance with every stroke, but the acid’s heat was spreading quickly. The fluid was bubbling wildly now.
But the heat didn’t concern them that much. Their real fear stemmed from the plug’s disappearance. As soon as it melted, the fluid would drain and they would be drawn toward the hole and sucked inside.
They were now three hundred yards from the drain and breaking through the water’s surface. The fluid wasn’t nearly so hot. Had they managed to escape its downward pull?
The three swimmers didn’t have time to see what hit them. One moment they were pressing forward, the next there was a sucking sound and the entire swamp was spinning like crazy — as if they were trapped in an enormous blender.
“De pwug!” Todrus gasped. “De athid mus ha ea’en thwew!”
Before Lewis could answer, the swamp’s spiral yanked him back. The frogs still clutched him, their legs kicking furiously as they battled the current. As hard as they fought, the torrent was stronger — not only were they sliding back, but the fluid was heating up again.
Oof! They struck the creature, and it was like hitting a brick wall. The collision winded Gibiwink and Todrus, and they briefly relaxed their grip on Lewis. Instantly, the current jerked him back.
Lewis was dragged across the alien’s surface and would have shot into the whirlpool and been sucked into the drain had his hands not grazed a slight outcropping. He managed to latch on to it and took in his surroundings. Over there, on his right, was he imagining things? No, there really was a cave close by.
It was a fold in the creature’s skin that could possibly shelter the trio.
“Todwus! Gib’wink! Ovew hewe!” he shouted. “I’b found a cabe!”
As the frogs glanced up, he waved them over. He also clasped the ledge with his feet, thereby freeing both hands. A moment later Todrus floated near, steering himself with the last of his strength. Hauling on his flippers, Lewis dragged him to safety.
“Get Gib’wink!” Todrus sputtered.
Gibiwink drifted near, as well, but was short of Lewis by a couple of feet. Any moment now and he would be swept away …
“Yaw tongue!” Lewis yelled. “Wap it wound me!”
Gibiwink obeyed. Catching hold of his tongue Lewis reeled him in and dropped him next to Todrus as if he were landing an unusually large fish.
For the next few minutes they huddled in the cave and listened to the fluid roar around them. They were worried about the rest of the group and whether their comrades had been able to escape the current.
“Am I cwazy,” Gibiwink asked, “or is it wess noisy?”
“Yaw wight,” Todrus said, rearing his head. “It is wess noisy.”
They peered outside and were taken aback. The swamp’s level had fallen and it was still draining. As more of it vanished, more of the creature could be seen. Below them was a long slope of grey, as if they were standing on a mountain of clay.
A gurgling erupted. The last of the fluid was running off, and the swamp’s muddy bottom was visible in places. Here and there, where bits of silt had washed away, lengths of metal piping were exposed. But the best sight by far was the figures in the distance. Gibiwink waved. Their friends waved back.
The mud was now completely exposed. Strange to say, Lewis felt a bit bad because the absence of water marked the death of Yellow Swamp. At the same time, eyeing the soil below, he knew they had to act if they were going to survive.
“We’ve got to jump,” he announced, his voice back to normal. “We’re in danger here.” Without awaiting their response he launched himself forward.
The creature’s flanks were like a playground slide. Because its skin was smooth and moist from the swamp, the long ride down was safe and easy. For a good ten seconds he continued to drop, gathering speed as he barrelled downward. Near the bottom the flank curled up a little, and when Lewis reached it hurtling at thirty miles per hour, it tossed him twenty feet into the air. Luckily, his fall was cushioned by a large patch of mud.
“Hurry up!” he cried. “There’s no time to spare!”
“What’s the big hurry?” Gibiwink grumbled. Todrus pushed him forward and followed swiftly behind.
“Are you okay?” Lewis asked some thirty seconds later, smiling at the frogs’ mud-covered features. As they started to answer, his eyes widened in horror.
He had seen strange sights since they had entered the region, but the scene that now confronted him was the strangest yet by far.
“I think we have a problem,” Lewis whispered to his friends.