Mrs. Dash sat in a chair at Jasper’s desk. She watched the Garxx of Krilm crawl all over the teleporter booth, making whispery noises to one another. They were trying to figure out how it worked.
“Can I get you boys anything?” Mrs. Dash asked. “Root beers? Finger sandwiches?”
The Garxx of Krilm were not interested in snacks.
Mrs. Dash was sick of waiting. She folded her hands together and squeezed them very tight. She opened Jasper’s desk drawer and pushed around the erasers with her thumb.
Mrs. Dash felt sick with guilt. She should have stopped him from going somehow.
She thought about what a terrible mother she was. Now, as a result, her son was off looking for a father among a race of cruel alien invaders. And his friends were probably trapped with him.
She said, in a voice that was almost angry, “Can’t we just go through the teleporter as it is—right now—and rescue the children? The girls must be there too. You frightened them away, appearing with your . . . with your big, big heads. Can’t we just go save the children from these Dirrillillim—and then you boys can figure out all the secrets of intergalactic travel afterward?”
One of the Garxx of Krilm stood up and said, “Please, patience, Mother of Dash. The Dirrillillim will be waiting on the other side with weapons and trickery.”
“Well, how is all this”—Mrs. Dash gestured furiously at their tinkering—“going to help?”
But the Garxx of Krilm did not answer her questions. They turned back to the booth and kept inspecting it, speaking their hissy, whispering language.
“Do you understand?” said Mrs. Dash. “I tried to protect my son, and I failed, and now he’s more than a thousand light-years away. I tried to protect my son’s friends, and I failed again, and now they are also, presumably, more than a thousand light-years away. I do not want to sit here while you tinker. Is this understood?”
The aliens did not speak to her.
But she couldn’t wait any longer to act.
She stood up from her son’s desk chair. She announced to the Garxx, “I am going.”
They turned to her in surprise. They said, “You shouldn’t.”
They said, “The Dirrillillim will be waiting for you.”
They warned her, “You will suffer the same fate as your son.”
And Mrs. Dash proclaimed, “That’s exactly what I want.” She told the Garxx, “I’m off to get my oxygen gear.”
She was back in ten minutes, dressed in an old fifties space suit, from back when women’s space suits were pink and had little skirts.
“This is a mistake, Mother of Dash.”
She declared, “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been hiding in this house for years. But I am a scientist, and like all scientists, I am trained to deflect heat rays, escape space dragons, and safely land a lifeboat capsule on the cooler parts of the sun. Now. Off to Zeblion III. Any of you coming with me?”
The Garxx gawked.
They said, somewhat nervously, “Well, why don’t we stay here?”
“We’ll guard the teleporter booth.”
“It would be awful if someone tried to pop through.”
“So we’ll just stay put.”
“Hmm,” said Mrs. Dash. “I see, boys. Scared.”
“Scared? Scared? The Garxx of Krilm? We laugh at fear!”
Mrs. Dash said tartly, “Well, if over your laughter, you could clear away from the booth, I’d be grateful to you.”
She stepped into the teleporter. It was pretty self-explanatory. It was already set for Zeblion III. There was a big lever to pull. Mrs. Dash saluted the Garxx of Krilm and pulled the lever.
The Garxx watched her flicker and disappear.
The teleporter was empty.
One of the Garxx said, “The Mother of Dash is gone.”
“She will not be back,” said another.
“The Dirrillillim will kill her.”
The Garxx all looked at one another. Then one said, “Good. Now let us get back to examining this remarkable teleporter machine. That’s what we came for.”
“That’s why we followed those Dirrillillian message beams to Earth.”
“That’s why we sought out Jasper Dash.”
“In an hour we will have figured out the secrets of teleportation.”
“Then we can start our crime spree.”
“We can use teleporters like this to appear in intergalactic banks.”
“And in grand mansions in the space stations that circle Saturn.”
“Our treasure chests will be filled with precious metals forged in the Big Bang.”
“Our saucer will be detailed in gold.”
“We will have warehouses full of diamonds crushed into being under alien atmospheres and stupendous gravities.”
“Our pockets will be stuffed with precious laruvium, the most unstable element in the universe.”
“Yes.”
“Indeed.”
“That will be great.”
They nodded their huge, finned helmets.
This was, in fact, the plan of the Garxx of Krilm, who were wanted crooks all over the galaxy. They had intercepted the beams sent across space not to help other worlds, but to find out the secret of teleportation so they could carry out their nefarious plans. And they were only about an hour from reaching their goal.
And while they talked about it, Mrs. Dash was being flung across the universe—fifteen hundred light-years—nine quadrillion miles—far, far from Earth, her island home.I
I When Busby Spence’s father got home from the war, discharged, Busby and his mother were all dressed up. They went to the train station to meet him. Busby had to wear a bow tie. They had plans to go out to a big dinner at a restaurant and eat all the things they normally couldn’t eat because of rationing.
Busby’s father got off the train at three forty-five p.m. He was still wearing his uniform. Busby’s mother went and hugged her husband. Busby’s father did not smile or laugh.
Busby felt shy. He hadn’t seen his father for two years. Busby’s father didn’t look very good. He looked pale and his face was thick from medication. One of his hands was red and covered with scars.
His father just said, “Hi, Buzz,” as if he were coming home from work and there was nothing special about the day. He asked Busby’s mother, “Do you have the car?” He picked up his duffel bag.
That was it.
Busby was confused. He wanted a big bear hug, like fathers gave their sons in movies. He wanted his dad to shout, “How you been, chief?” or, “Missed you so much, old sport!”
His father was already walking away, down the platform, carrying his duffel bag.
When they got home, Busby’s father didn’t ask to hear what had been happening. He didn’t tell any stories about the things he’d seen blown up. He stood for a while in each room of the house. He walked down to the lake, trudging through the snow, and he looked across the ice.
When he came back inside, Busby’s mother said, “We planned a real special evening. We’re going to Dana’s Cuddleside for dinner.”
Busby’s father just shook his head. He said, “I got to sleep for a while. Don’t wake me up.”
He went upstairs, and they could hear him crying.
Busby and his mother just sat on either side of the table, staring at each other, pretending not to hear.
Busby’s father didn’t come down that night. They canceled their plans at Dana’s Cuddleside.
Busby went to bed and read about Jasper Dash hunting Nazis on the ocean floor, deep down where everything is blind or glows.