Chapter Twenty-Eight
I could hear sirens in the distance. Fire trucks, ambulance, police, I wasn’t sure but probably all the above.
The fire was in full swing now. Thick, black smoke billowed into the night sky, blocking out the few stars that dared to shine. The odd, hideous smell of burning wood and plastic filled my nostrils.
But it had started to rain, like in a movie. The fire was fighting to stay alive but the gentle rain made its efforts futile.
The bright light lowered itself to the ground gently.
It was a space ship. Not a flying saucer, like the ones you see on those poorly made 1960’s movies held up by strings, this one was modern, clean-cut and resembled a fighter jet.
But it was ten times the size.
"Intergalactic Police?" Ned exclaimed. He threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, sure, now they decide to show up."
The hatch dropped open, slowly, touching the soggy ground, gingerly.
It looked so out of place. This clean, futuristic, space-age aircraft touching down in grubby Downtown, Rockwell. It was worthy of a better audience, but we’d have to do for now.
An alien strolled out, walking upright and confidently. The sound of clicking heels as they walked down the polished ramp echoed through Downtown.
She didn’t look alien. She looked human.
Tall, slender, with white blonde hair neatly cut in a bob style. She had intelligent eyes and a kind smile. She wore a black outfit, like a spy, with a black leather jacket and boots.
She surveyed the scene that stood before her, awaiting its inspection. "My, but this place is in bad shape," she said with an elegant, English accent.
Two uniformed aliens marched out the ship. They wore white suits, much like what someone going into a radioactive zone would wear. But I could see their basic shapes, anyway. One looked like a dinosaur, the other looked like a praying mantas.
They turned their heads to her for direction. She nodded towards the warehouse. "He’s probably in there. Go get him, read him his rights and then report back here. We still have to hand-cuff the Monmia. We finally caught them red-handed. We can throw them in prison for life for this."
The two officers nodded and sprinted for the warehouse.
The lady smiled and shook her head, rather pleased with the accomplishment of this night. Her eyes fell on me and my motley crew. "So, who are you?" the lady asked.
"Well, now, before I answer that, I’d like to know who you are," Ned said, crossing his arms. "I’d also like a lawyer and possibly a Mars bar. I skipped dinner."
"Angela Spike," she replied, smiling at Ned’s joke. "Yes, I am human. Yes, I am with the good guys. I head the Intergalactic Police Station, Solar System sector 3."
"How come you’ve only shown up now?" Brooke asked. "Not to be ungrateful, but you are a bit late."
"Our sensors only now picked up the transmission from Gemini’s computer. It seems when you staged your fake transmission you forgot to activate Gemini’s ingenious cloaking program. We’ve been trying to find the dirt on the Monmia for ages. This is just what we need to throw those scum-bags in prison. Now, I know you probably have a thousand questions of your own but I’d like to be the one to ask the questions, for now. Starting with who you are."
"Um . . . I’m Luke. This is Brooke, Ned, Robyn and Smithy is our Gemini impersonator," I introduced us.
"And what are you?" Angela asked.
I shrugged as if the answer was standing out in the open with a big red neon sign announcing its presence.
"Human." To be honest, it sounded like an understatement, a bit insignificant. But it was so much more than that.
"And you have powers?" Angela raised a dark eyebrow.
"That would be thanks to System here," I said, nodding to System who was standing behind Brooke’s leg, hiding.
"Joncelrin System?" Angela tilted her head to one side. "Did you give these kids powers?"
System stepped out of his hiding spot, faced Angela and stood tall. All two feet of him. "Yes, ma’am. I did."
"You know the universal laws of power exchange," Angela said, sounding uptight. "Did your people approve of this?"
". . . No," he said, shamefully.
Angela raised both eyebrows and was ready to say something.
"But I knew Earth was in danger. I tried to tell them but, you know Systematics. They’re stubborn about that dumb unwritten rule of not helping a species that doesn’t ask for help. I had to help but . . . I’m only one person. I could never do any of this on my own. You have to understand that."
Angela nodded, understandingly. "Don’t worry; I’ll make an exception for now. Someone once did for me. But . . . by law, I’ll have to exile you to Earth."
System stumbled backwards in shock. "What . . .?"
"Joncelrin," Angela bent down and stroked System’s little head. "It’s for your own good. If you return to your planet, you will be punished, severely, no matter the amount of good you have done. I don’t want that to happen to you. Live here with these humans, they’ll be good friends to you."
System nodded, sadly. "Yes, ma’am. I am grateful."
Angela straightened up. "I thank you for your courage, children. If it were not for you, the human race wouldn’t be able to wake up to another Tuesday."
"Monday," Ned corrected. "It’s Monday."
"Oh, is it? Sorry, you’ll have to forgive me. Haven’t been on Earth for quite some time. I often forget the day. Anyway, thanks."
The two officers returned, pushing a resistant Gemini, hands cuffed behind his back, onto the ship.
"Tie him up and make sure he can’t escape," Angela ordered. "Remember, he has powers: lock him up in the Crystal sector."
"Yes, boss," the dinosaur officer replied in a voice that sounded like the voice of a weedy teenager.
Gemini resisted the officers exactly like how Smithy resisted the dentist.
A fire truck rolled onto the premises, siren blaring.
The firemen leapt to action, hauled out hoses and wasted no time in assisting the rain in defeating the fire.
An ambulance had come with them. I bent down and helped Robyn in hoisting Smithy up.
"I think he could use some medical assistance," I said.
Robyn and I shared his weight between us and carried his slim frame over to the ambulance.
There were two paramedics. The one that had been driving hopped out and opened the doors at the back of the ambulance vehicle. The other one jumped out, saw us coming and leaned against the vehicle, waiting for us.
As we got closer, and the light of the fire enabled vision, I recognized the paramedic who was hanging around for us.
Tall frame, dark hair, square jaw, late twenties or early thirties . . . I’d seen him on Friday, at the other fire.
He recognized me as well.
"Luke Rosenhart?" he said with a tinge of surprise. He tried to hide it.
And I thought my disguise was brilliant. "Um . . . what if I say yes?"
He smiled, lopsidedly. "I know it’s you. I’ve known you since that time when you fell off your bike and somehow managed to break your wrist."
"Fine, I’m Luke."
The other paramedic came around, lifted a stretcher out the back of the ambulance and got us to help lay Smithy on it. Smithy groaned, softly.
"Sorry, who are you?" Robyn asked the paramedic who had recognized me.
"John McGill," he answered. "I know your mom, Kelly Diaz. She’s a great nurse. I thought I saw you kids the other day, leaving that fire. You saved Lucy May, didn’t you?"
I cringed. Should heroes cringe even though they know what they did was right, honourable even? If they have parents, I guess they can. "Um . . . you aren’t going to tell my folks . . . are you?"
John thought it over for a second, but shook his head. "Nah. I know you rescued that little girl. I’m proud of you guys." John gazed at the fire. "But I’m not too sure I should be so proud of this . . ."
"
Depends . . . do you believe in aliens?"
John looked past me, at the ship.
When I was younger, I’d spend ages imaging how someone would respond to seeing actual, real-life aliens.
John didn’t faint. He didn’t go crazy. He didn’t say, in a satisfied, but slightly Looney Toons, way: "I’ve known it all along."
He stared at the ship for a few seconds in absolute silence.
"Gotta say, I’m not totally surprised."
"Really?" I said, halfway to an exclamation. I was the surprised one. "This doesn’t seem that strange at all?"
John shook his head. "It’s strange, can’t deny that. But I can live with it. Can’t change it, can I?"
John hopped into the back of the ambulance and he and the other paramedic tended to Smithy.
They took off the worn, weather-beaten jacket Smithy had been wearing. It was already ripped in places, but now it had a new story to tell with the slice across the right shoulder seam.
The bullet hadn’t gone straight through his shoulder, but it nearly had. It had done about the same amount of damage.
John and the other paramedic cleaned the wound and bandaged it up.
"We’ll have to take him to hospital, just to make sure the bullet didn’t damage anything vital," John said.
"Okay," I nodded, a bit in a daze. It was past midnight and I was dead tired.
I climbed into the ambulance along with Robyn. Smithy was lying on the stretcher. He was slowly coming around.
"Hey, Smithy," I said. "Thanks for what you did."
"Second time I’d been knocked out in one weekend. All in a day’s work, I guess, chi—" Smithy stopped himself.
"It’s okay, you can say it."
Smithy smiled, weakly. "Okay, chief."
"Hey, what was that name you gave us?" Robyn asked, out of the blue. "Upbeats?"
Smithy furrowed his brow for a second. "I didn’t intend on naming us."
"No, I like it," Robyn insisted. "It’s got a cool ring to it, Upbeats. We’re the Upbeats, forever and always."