United as One
Page 25
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Before I can give that any more thought, Noto pokes his head out of the library and waves Adam over. “There’s a lot of chatter all of a sudden,” he says.
Adam and I jog back into the room. I cock my head to listen to the transmission coming through, but it all sounds like angry barking to me. The Mogadorian who’s broadcasting sure is excited, though.
Watching Adam’s eyes slowly narrow, I can tell this isn’t good news. After a few seconds, he turns to me.
“John, we should get the others,” he says. “Someone’s made a terrible mistake.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
NEVER POST ANYTHING ON THE INTERNET. IT’S like Rule #1.
Granted, all of us have broken Rule #1 at some point and ended up hunted by Mogs as a result. Because sometimes desperation outweighs your desire not to be stupid. It happens. No judgment.
But man, it’s dumb to post things on the internet.
The video, obviously shot on a cell phone, begins with a thunderous rush of water. A massive waterfall that I instantly recognize as Niagara Falls appears on screen. Whoever’s filming this is standing on a grassy outcropping level with the waterfall’s drop-off.
“Oy, it’s bloody loud—!”
The camera gets jostled as whoever’s holding the phone jogs away from the waterfall. In those few seconds of bouncing around, I’m able to pick out a few details: a blond girl who looks like she should be yodeling on a six-pack of imported beer stands near the edge of the cliff right next to a jagged protrusion of otherworldly blue stone.
Loralite. A new growth, just like Ella said there would be.
Before I can examine the stone too closely, the camera steadies and is turned around so we can look straight into the pockmarked face of a grubby teenage boy. He’s gaunt, with a Mohawk that’s bleached nearly white and patches of peach-fuzz stubble. He wears a torn-up denim vest covered in patches, a ratty tank top, and while I can’t see his feet, I can almost guarantee he’s rocking combat boots. Of course, I recognize him from the telepathic summit Ella held for us. He’s one of the kids who seemed most eager to heed John’s call to action.
Even though he moved away from the edge, the kid still has to yell to be heard over the waterfall.
“Hello, John Smith and super-friends! You out there? Nigel Rally here. We met at . . . uh. The thing. Found your bloody stones, and, y’know, it’s been a real laugh popping round the world and all, but at what point are you lot gonna come pick us up?”
It doesn’t surprise me at all that these international Garde are lost and confused. John told them to come help us, and Ella explained that they could use the Loralite stones to teleport around the globe simply by picturing a location. But Setrákus Ra crashed our meeting before we could give them any concrete idea how to find us, which isn’t exactly an easy task considering we’re in hiding.
“I ran into a couple of others while taking the tour, eh?” Nigel continues, and turns the camera to pan around his surroundings. “Wave to John Smith, protector of the world and absent Big Brother who has apparently forgotten to fetch us.”
Behind Nigel, the blond girl I caught a glimpse of before waves. Next to her, there’s a stocky boy with a shock of brown hair who waves awkwardly. I recognize him immediately as the German from the meeting, Bertrand, the beekeeper who can control bugs. Also, standing a little off from the others is a frail-looking Asian girl who stares blankly into the camera before tossing up a halfhearted peace sign.
“That’s Fleur and Bertrand,” Nigel narrates, “and over there . . . well, I think she calls herself Ran. Doesn’t speak any English that one, not since your mega-psychic bird with the glowing eyes stopped with the translating anyway.”
Nigel flips the camera back around to himself.
“So look, we’re at Niagara Falls, if you haven’t figured that out yet. I memorized as many spots on that map you showed us for five bloody seconds as I could, but I’ve never been to the States, so I had to bop around Europe for a bit until I met ol’ Bertrand. Picked up some other tagalongs on the way. . . .” Nigel blows out a sigh. “Lotta weird places on your map, John Smith. New Mexico? What the hell does that look like, eh? Stupid, I bet. Bertrand was here once for a family vacation, so . . .” Nigel lowers his voice. “If you read me, Major John, we’re waiting for a pickup. If not, well, I guess we’ll just start walking towards the nearest alien battleship and hope for the bloody best, eh? Cheers.”
And with that, the YouTube clip ends. It’s attached to the comment thread on the video Sarah made introducing John to the world, and it’s already got a ton of likes and views. Nigel posted his video about three hours ago. Me, John, Adam, Nine, Ella, Sam, and Daniela are all huddled around a cell phone that Daniela swiped from one of the soldiers.
Adam and I jog back into the room. I cock my head to listen to the transmission coming through, but it all sounds like angry barking to me. The Mogadorian who’s broadcasting sure is excited, though.
Watching Adam’s eyes slowly narrow, I can tell this isn’t good news. After a few seconds, he turns to me.
“John, we should get the others,” he says. “Someone’s made a terrible mistake.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
NEVER POST ANYTHING ON THE INTERNET. IT’S like Rule #1.
Granted, all of us have broken Rule #1 at some point and ended up hunted by Mogs as a result. Because sometimes desperation outweighs your desire not to be stupid. It happens. No judgment.
But man, it’s dumb to post things on the internet.
The video, obviously shot on a cell phone, begins with a thunderous rush of water. A massive waterfall that I instantly recognize as Niagara Falls appears on screen. Whoever’s filming this is standing on a grassy outcropping level with the waterfall’s drop-off.
“Oy, it’s bloody loud—!”
The camera gets jostled as whoever’s holding the phone jogs away from the waterfall. In those few seconds of bouncing around, I’m able to pick out a few details: a blond girl who looks like she should be yodeling on a six-pack of imported beer stands near the edge of the cliff right next to a jagged protrusion of otherworldly blue stone.
Loralite. A new growth, just like Ella said there would be.
Before I can examine the stone too closely, the camera steadies and is turned around so we can look straight into the pockmarked face of a grubby teenage boy. He’s gaunt, with a Mohawk that’s bleached nearly white and patches of peach-fuzz stubble. He wears a torn-up denim vest covered in patches, a ratty tank top, and while I can’t see his feet, I can almost guarantee he’s rocking combat boots. Of course, I recognize him from the telepathic summit Ella held for us. He’s one of the kids who seemed most eager to heed John’s call to action.
Even though he moved away from the edge, the kid still has to yell to be heard over the waterfall.
“Hello, John Smith and super-friends! You out there? Nigel Rally here. We met at . . . uh. The thing. Found your bloody stones, and, y’know, it’s been a real laugh popping round the world and all, but at what point are you lot gonna come pick us up?”
It doesn’t surprise me at all that these international Garde are lost and confused. John told them to come help us, and Ella explained that they could use the Loralite stones to teleport around the globe simply by picturing a location. But Setrákus Ra crashed our meeting before we could give them any concrete idea how to find us, which isn’t exactly an easy task considering we’re in hiding.
“I ran into a couple of others while taking the tour, eh?” Nigel continues, and turns the camera to pan around his surroundings. “Wave to John Smith, protector of the world and absent Big Brother who has apparently forgotten to fetch us.”
Behind Nigel, the blond girl I caught a glimpse of before waves. Next to her, there’s a stocky boy with a shock of brown hair who waves awkwardly. I recognize him immediately as the German from the meeting, Bertrand, the beekeeper who can control bugs. Also, standing a little off from the others is a frail-looking Asian girl who stares blankly into the camera before tossing up a halfhearted peace sign.
“That’s Fleur and Bertrand,” Nigel narrates, “and over there . . . well, I think she calls herself Ran. Doesn’t speak any English that one, not since your mega-psychic bird with the glowing eyes stopped with the translating anyway.”
Nigel flips the camera back around to himself.
“So look, we’re at Niagara Falls, if you haven’t figured that out yet. I memorized as many spots on that map you showed us for five bloody seconds as I could, but I’ve never been to the States, so I had to bop around Europe for a bit until I met ol’ Bertrand. Picked up some other tagalongs on the way. . . .” Nigel blows out a sigh. “Lotta weird places on your map, John Smith. New Mexico? What the hell does that look like, eh? Stupid, I bet. Bertrand was here once for a family vacation, so . . .” Nigel lowers his voice. “If you read me, Major John, we’re waiting for a pickup. If not, well, I guess we’ll just start walking towards the nearest alien battleship and hope for the bloody best, eh? Cheers.”
And with that, the YouTube clip ends. It’s attached to the comment thread on the video Sarah made introducing John to the world, and it’s already got a ton of likes and views. Nigel posted his video about three hours ago. Me, John, Adam, Nine, Ella, Sam, and Daniela are all huddled around a cell phone that Daniela swiped from one of the soldiers.
