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My Teacher Is An Alien Part 4

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"It's just the attic," he said.

I knew that; I could tell by how narrow the door was. But that wasn't the point.

"So what if it's the attic?" I said. "Maybe Broxholm has something packed away up there. Come on, Peter. We've gone this far. We can't give up now."

"Oh, all right," said Peter. He opened the door and started up the stairway. When he got about halfway up the stairs his head pa.s.sed the level of the attic floor. I was walking so close that I b.u.mped into him when he stopped.

"What is it?" I whispered.



When he didn't answer me, I pushed my way up beside him and cried out in horror.

CHAPTER NINE.

The Force Field

in the Attic

For a long time neither of us said a word.

"Is she alive?" I asked at last.

Peter didn't answer me.

"Peter," I hissed, pinching his arm. "Do you think she's alive?"

Peter turned to me. I could see his face in the blue glow that came from the thing in the center of the attic. His eyes were glazed and blank. I wasn't sure whether he even knew I was there.

"Peter!" I hissed.

He shook his head. "You weren't kidding, were you?"

"Of course I wasn't kidding!"

"But do you know what this means?"

"Yeah. It means we're in big trouble. Now let's get up there and see if we can figure out what's going on."

"An alien!" said Peter, his voice filled with awe. "Mr. Smith is an alien! We're not alone!"

"What are you talking about?" I hissed.

"Intelligent aliens. Mankind is not alone in the universe."

"Well, I'm feeling pretty alone right now," I said. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Peter closed his eyes and rubbed his face. Suddenly his awe turned to fear. "Oh, my G.o.d," he said. "What if Mr. Smith catches us here?"

I rolled my eyes. "Why do you think I've been so scared all night, you yo-yo?"

Suddenly I realized what was going on. "You never did believe me, did you?" I said angrily. "You thought this was all just a joke!"

Peter shook his head. "I believed you," he said. But I didn't really understand what it meant until-well, until I believed it this way." He shrugged helplessly. "I can't explain it," he said.

It didn't make any difference. I understood. He was feeling the way I felt when I saw Broxholm take his face off.

"Come on," I said. "Let's get up there."

Despite my brave words, I climbed the rest of those stairs pretty slowly. Peter climbed up beside me. Standing side by side, we stared at the terrible thing we had found.

In the center of the attic was a column of blue light. It was about three feet across, and stretched from the floor to the peak of the ceiling. And in the center of it stood-Ms. Schwartz. Her eyes were wide open, but they hadn't blinked once in all the time we had been looking at her. Her frizzy black hair was standing straight out from her head, as if she was getting some kind of horrible shock. Her hands were at her sides, palms forward, fingers separated.

I looked carefully, but I couldn't tell if she was breathing.

"Is she alive?" I asked again.

"I don't know," said Peter. "It's hard to tell."

We stepped forward. Ms. Schwartz didn't move. The air smelled funny. My hair started to move by itself. I could feel a strange tingling on my skin.

"It's a force field," said Peter, taking another step forward.

I knew he was the right person to bring with me. Only a person who read that much science fiction would know what to call something like this. Now if he only knew what to do about it!

Unfortunately, he didn't.

"If I could figure out where it came from, maybe I could turn it off," he told me. "But I don't see any equipment. Besides, I'd be afraid of hurting Ms. Schwartz."

I nodded. "Do you think she's OK in there?" I asked, blinking back a tear.

How had Broxholm done this to her?

Maybe the handsome creep had tricked her into going out on a date with him. What a treat-a date with an alien. I could just imagine his line: Let's go see a film. Then I'll take you back to my house and lock you in a force field.

What a rat!

"Oh, Ms. Schwartz," I moaned. "What are we going to do?"

I couldn't stand seeing her trapped like that. I stepped forward and tried to reach out to touch her.

"Don't!" cried Peter, when he saw what I was doing. But it was too late. I had already laid my hands against the blue light. I felt a tingle run through my body. For a terrible instant I thought I was going to be drawn into the force field, too. But it didn't happen.

What did happen was I heard a voice inside my head. Susan, don't worry about me. You've got to warn the others!

It was Ms. Schwartz.

"Peter!" I yelled. "Come here. Touch the force field. You can hear Ms. Schwartz!"

I suppose it sounded crazy. But by this time he was ready to believe anything. He pushed through the heavy air that surrounded the force field and put his hands next to mine on the column of light.

h.e.l.lo, Peter, said Ms. Schwartz.

"Telepathy!" whispered Peter in awe. "These guys are amazing."

Yes, they are, said Ms. Schwartz inside our heads. Amazing, and dangerous.

"What do they want?" I asked.

You! she said.

I yelled and jumped back from the force field. The air around me felt so thick. It was hard to move through it. I realized I had lost my connection with Ms. Schwartz. Pus.h.i.+ng forward, I pressed my hands back against the force field.

I'm sorry, said Ms. Schwartz. I didn't mean to frighten you.

I looked at her face. Her eyes were staring straight ahead. It was weird to hear her voice inside my head when she was standing there like that, looking as if she had been frozen.

Don't worry about me, she said. Your job right now is to warn the others.

"Warn them of what?" asked Peter.

About Broxholm! His mission here is to find five students to take back with him. He plans to select the best, the worst, and the three most average kids.

"What's he going to do with them?" I asked.

The voice inside my head sounded worried. I don't know for sure. The plan is to bring them back here and head out into s.p.a.ce on the night of May twenty-sixth.

"But that's next week!" I cried.

Ms. Schwartz moaned. I didn't know so much time had gone by, she whispered inside our heads. I can't keep track inside here. Listen, you have to unmask him somehow. If you don't, you're all in terrible danger.

Just then we heard the front door open and close.

Talk about terrible danger.

Broxholm was back!

CHAPTER TEN.

Solo Effort My mouth went dry. My hands started shaking. Peter's eyes were so wide they looked like ping-pong b.a.l.l.s.

Shhh! cautioned Ms. Schwartz. Don't make a sound.

I appreciated the advice, but I had already figured that much out on my own.

What are we going to do? I thought.

To my surprise, Ms. Schwartz answered me.

Wait till he reports in, she said. Then you can sneak out.

Did you just read my mind? I thought.

Just the message you sent me, she replied.

That was a relief! There's a lot going on inside my head that I don't want anyone to know about-not even Ms. Schwartz.

I looked around the attic. If Broxholm came up here we were sunk. I couldn't see a single thing to hide behind.

Suddenly I heard that horrible music again.

"This is our chance," I whispered. "He must be in his dressing room. I bet he's taking off his face and getting ready to report to the s.h.i.+p."

"Then let's go," said Peter.

"Wait," I said desperately. "What about Ms. Schwartz? We can't leave her here like this!"

You have to, she thought at us. I'm all right for the time being. The best thing you can do for me is unmask the alien.

I still hesitated.

GO! she shouted inside my head. The message was so powerful I staggered back from the force field.

Casting a last look over my shoulder, I took Peter's hand. He didn't pull away. This wasn't romance, it was terror. Each of us needed someone to hold on to as we sneaked down the stairway.

When we reached the bottom, Peter opened the door as quietly as he could. The tiny click was lost in the awful screech of the alien music. Moving slowly, he peered around the edge. "No one in sight," he whispered.

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My Teacher Is An Alien Part 4 summary

You're reading My Teacher Is An Alien. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Mike Wimmer. Already has 605 views.

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