Extraordinary Sam and the Power of Grrrg

By Space Shipley

For Sam Gildersleeve, life on the boarding school planet was the biggest source of his problems in his first thirteen years of existence. Then, on Sam’s way back home to Earth for his winter break, everything changed. After his ship crash-landed on an uncharted planet, he was left stranded on a remarkable world where supervillains prospered and thirteen year old superheroes were made...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Space Shipley
• Release date: May 30, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452441627

Space Shipley

Hunter, Gatherer, Magician, Surfer, Humanitarian, Practical Jokester, Triathlete, 7th Degree Black Belt, Deep Sea Diver, Fighter Pilot, Mini-Moogist, Dog Sled Champion, Neurosurgeon, Submarine-Style Relief Pitcher, Sagittarious, Born in the Suburbs.That is Space Shipley.

Book preview

EXTRAORDINARY SAM

AND THE POWER OF GRRRG

BY

SPACE SHIPLEY

******

Copyright © 2010 by Space Shipley.

Flying Boy Logo © 2010 by Space Shipley

All Rights Reserved.

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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Available in print on Lulu.com, Amazon, Barnes and Noble

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Summary: After finding themselves stranded on the uncharted planet Grrrg,

Sam Gildersleeve and his classmates must use their superpowers to prevent their newfound home’s demise.

ISBN 978-1-4524-4162-7

******

For my Dad,

Who taught me how to Fly,

And my Mom,

Who kept me Grounded.

******

CONTENTS

ONE

The Barfinator

TWO

To Camden…New Jersey!!!

THREE

Lost

FOUR

Grrrg

FIVE

Jim

SIX

The Beginning

SEVEN

Hidden DNA

EIGHT

Hero Central

NINE

Vertighost

TEN

To Rrrgrrr!!!

ELEVEN

The House of Psychopalypse

TWELVE

Aetrocity

THIRTEEN

The Core

FOURTEEN

Bglt’ts N’krrrn!!!

******

EXTRAORDINARY SAM

And the power of Grrrg

******

CHAPTER ONE

The Barfinator

Intergalactic Cartography was always a tough class for Samuel Gildersleeve. He found keeping straight the odd names and pronunciations of worlds and galaxies he hadn’t yet traveled to - or even seen - to be a never-ending pain. Was there really any difference between Nimbu 592 located outside the outer rings of Kerplexon or Nimbold Five which was near the...the...WHERE WAS NIMBOLD FIVE?

Sam had five minutes left on his IC exam and had no clue where Nimbold Five was. None. The answer space in the atmospheric holograph hovered before him, completely blank. BLANK!

Sam looked beyond the atmospheric. His classmates were done. He was the only one yet to finish his test and he was the only one left that stood before them, their winter vacation and, most importantly, a return home to Earth. This just added to the pressure.

There was a lot riding on the Intergalactic Cartography test and his other exams this session. His parents had made an incredible offer. If Sam somehow managed to maintain a B-plus average, they would grant him access to the amusement park planet, Vomitnia, for the full time period of his break - two whole weeks.

Vomitnia was, simply put, the most insanely gleeful, madly hilarious, and purely joyful place in the Universe. That was no joke. How could it be with a ride like The Barfinator? The largest roller coaster of its kind, The Barfinator ascended to heights of over five miles. By the time you'd made your way around the planet on The Barfinator, you'd have loop-de-looped 327 times. Each seat had its own upchuckium representing the latest in heaving technology. The coaster was equipped with lavatories, showers and a full range of confections culled from the furthest reaches of space. The Barfinator was what roller coasting was about and what they always should be.

Moreover, none of Sam’s classmates had made it through The Barfinator without, well...barfing. Not one. Not Vern Kelp. Not Jake Pulley. Not even Rex Belter, the toughest kid in school. Sam was determined to be the first.

And this semester his dream of getting the chance to conquer The Barfinator was on the verge of becoming a reality. Through the course of the term, Sam maintained that magical B-plus average. He got an A-minus in math, a B-minus in physics. Okay, in social studies he took a hit with a C, but in English he pulled an A-minus.

After a moment Sam came to a conclusion. As if he knew the answer all along, Sam reached into the space of the atmospheric holograph with a solution to the last remaining question. Based on nothing whatsoever, Nimbold Five had to be near the Raltine Nebula. It just had to be.

Done, Sam calmly stated, a strained relief in his voice.

Very good, said Mr. Detweiler, peeking up from his atmospheric. Sam noticed the right side of his teacher’s face was reddened. Mr. Detweiler must have been reading and using his right hand to prop his head up.

It's about time, replied Kumi Ungerleider, Sam's best friend at school. She had finished her test about a minute before him, and she was irritated.

I just wanted to be sure, said Sam.

You made me wait. You made us all wait.

I’d have finished sooner, but I just didn’t want to show off how smart I am and embarrass you all.

So, instead you embarrassed yourself by finishing the test last? Good going.

All part of my master plan.

Your master plan is you have no master plan.

Kumi was right, but Sam was only thirteen. How much direction could either of them have in life, yet? That’s part of the reason why they were at school to begin with - to start to figure those things out.

Sam and Kumi shared similar interests, which was probably why they were such good friends. Neither of them really liked school and studying all that much. They would rather spend the day playing sports or the latest atmospheric games. Kumi wasn’t the only girl in school who liked sports and atmospheric games, but she was the only girl that Sam knew who was actually good at them. Sam also liked the fact that she wasn’t interested in clothes or make-up or girlish things, which made him feel completely at ease with her. When Sam told his parents about Kumi, they quickly referred to her as a tomboy. Sam wasn’t sure what that meant at first. He even became offended, thinking his parents were putting Kumi down. After he looked up tomboy on the family atmospheric, he realized they weren’t putting her down at all. Kumi really was a tomboy.

I want you to know that it's been an absolute pleasure instructing you this fall on the finer points of Intergalactic Cartography, continued Mr. Detweiler. With this new knowledge you'll be able to find your position anywhere in the charted Universe. To the layman this may seem unimportant. Trivial even. But as you now know, Intergalactic Cartography is anything but trivial.

Will he get on with it already? Sam protested quietly into Kumi’s ear.

Relax, Sam, she replied. He’s almost done.

Oh. Look. I'm sorry. I've overstepped our time limit, paused Mr. Detweiler. May you all have a most glorious and no doubt hard-earned vacation. And remember to...always look up.

With that the class sat there and stared at the professor blankly.

Seeing the vacant looks, Mr. Detweiler brought things into pristine clarity. Go! Get out of here! That's it. It's all over! With that pronouncement the class of thirteen-year-olds stampeded like cattle out the door.

All Sam could think of on the way back to his dorm was I better get that B-plus. He finally said as much to Kumi.

There's no way, she replied. You might as well forget about Vomitnia.

Forget what? asked Sam, faking forgetfulness.

Vomitnia.

Vomitnia? What’s that?

Sam, you’re annoying me.

That’s the idea. Look, I just want to go to Vomitnia. That coaster is a-calling.

The important thing is you got your grades up.

She was right about that. Before Sam's quest to get to Vomitnia and the greatest rollercoaster ever built in the course of human history, his marks were not what they should have been.

I know. Yeah. Yeah. My grades are better. But I just don’t feel like I did enough.

I'm pretty sure you didn't. At least not for the B-plus.

Oh, terrific. So, you don't think I'm gonna go to Vomitnia? Some friend you are. Sheesh.

It's not that I don't think you can. It's just I don't think you will. Face it, the odds are against you.

Sam didn’t want to even think about it anymore. So when are you leaving for Earth, anyway?

Friday, 11:00 AM. Mission 949.

That a good mission you got there. Really good.

Wait. Don’t tell me you’re on that mission.

I would never tell you that...except well...

Great, said Kumi, sarcastically. Hey, I wonder if I can catch an earlier mission.

Before his disappointment could betray him, he shot back, You could. But then I’d have to get an earlier mission too. And then what would you do?

Pulverize myself with a laser-cannon to the head.

That’s kinda harsh just to avoid me.

It’d be worth it.

So, looks like we’ll be traveling together, huh?

Kumi’s company could actually be a good thing. He never made the trip back to Earth with anyone else before; at least not with anyone who liked him. It felt strange and he found himself trying to tuck away a smile.

Don't think this means anything, said Kumi, more serious than Sam had ever heard her before.

Like what?

Like nothing. Just forget it.

What exactly had gotten into Kumi there he couldn't figure out. Sam and Kumi were already good friends. What could the two of them traveling together mean other than the two of them traveling together?

When they approached the dorm, the ivy covered walls of Commander Zentillio Hall, named after the famous 22nd Century astronaut who lead a fleet of ships 12 parsecs on 6 parsecs of fuel, they went their separate ways.

Sam got to his room and found his half to be an insurmountable mess - just the way he wanted it to be. Like most of the guys on his floor (other than his roommate) he didn't care if his room was neat. His way was much better than all that. If Sam needed a sock or a shoe or underwear, he'd just pluck the needed item off the floor like turnips from the laundry patch.

Sam reached into the clean clothes pile and pulled out two weeks worth of socks, underwear, shirts, and jeans. As he took a whiff of his underwear, a time-tested method for cleanness, his roommate Randall Cloverly entered.

Fresh plucked roses of Mars, no doubt, Randall said.

That's it! I was trying to place it all along. Roses of Mars. Good one. Sam inhaled from his underwear again. No! No! Make that daffodils of Saturn.

So infantile. How’d you do on your tests?

Why? Afraid I did better than you?

Hardly.

Sam knew that Randall did well on his exams. He had the best grades in school.

Let’s just say I think I might be going to Vomitnia after all.

Gee. You'll get to go on those rides like The Barfinator, all for the privilege of vomiting your cotton candy, soft pretzels and ice cream until you can't see straight.

Going to Vomitnia’s not a privilege. It’s a Nauseating Rite of Passage...or so says the advertising. And I will not vomit.

You know that whole planet is just an expression of the entire capitalist system in microcosm. No more. No less. And a sour expression at that.

You’re a sour expression of sour...capitalization without representation!

Exams were finally over. Couldn't Randall just stop being Randall for a minute and let him relax?

Have you ever even been to Vomitnia? continued Sam.

No. But I've heard the stories. Kids crying when they can't get on the rides. Long lines. Toilets not working.

And you can bet I’d never let a broken toilet stand between me and a good time. As matter of fact, a broken toilet is a good time!

Alright. Look, the end of the semester is upon us. Let's see if we can find some common ground. Maybe for once we can be...

What? Friends?

I wouldn’t go that far. But I'm sure we can find something we can agree on.

Sam paused for a moment. It was pointless. He and Randall just didn't have any common ground. He had known it since the day the two found themselves stuck as roommates and Sam thought hyperbole was the name of a professional wrestler. He was wrong.

I can't think of anything for us to be friends over, Sam shrugged.

I can. I'm positively delighted I'm going to be getting rid of you for the full fourteen days of our break.

"And I’m simply delighted I won’t have to listen to you say things like I’m positively delighted I’m going to be getting rid of you for the full fourteen days of our break. Hey, maybe we can be friends after all."

Sam finished packing his bags while Randall read the business section of the New Galaxy Times from his atmospheric. Then he heard rumblings from outside in the hall. It was Quinn Jolly. He sounded like he was saying something important. Something that had to do with...grades.

Sam hurdled over Randall and dashed out of the room.

What's going on? Sam asked, sweat covering his brow.

They’re up, buddy, said Quinn unhappily, lacking in vim and vigor. He was one of the heavier-set kids, who stood at least a half a head taller than Sam. Usually he was hopelessly upbeat. But not today. He just held his head low and said, Grades have been posted.

You didn't see mine by any chance?

I’ve got my own problems, alright? Don't tell anyone, but I got a D in Algebra. My parents are gonna kill me.

I’m sure it’ll be a quick death and you won’t feel a thing.

That’s not funny. I’m cooked, buddy.

Look, it’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out.

You don’t know my parents.

Sam started down the hall unable to give his full attention to Quinn. He felt bad for him, having received D’s himself before. But Sam had been able to bring himself up from that kind of slime and he felt so could Quinn.

Approaching The Wall in the center of the campus commons of Tarbuke Academy, Sam saw just about everyone frantically scanning the 60 foot, air-thin, atmosphereatron. He tried to be cool, but it was near impossible. With so much riding on his marks for Intergalactic Cartograhy, Sam felt a rush of adrenaline. His heart pounded.

When Sam ran for The Wall, he was taken by the arm from behind. It was Kumi. What could she want at this critical time?

You shouldn't look.

You dare stop me! What? I didn't get the B plus? said Sam, who was in no mood for her games.

You're just not going to believe it.

What I can’t believe is you’re holding me back from Barfinator glory!

Trust me. You'll be totally freaked.

Sam pushed Kumi aside and frantically searched the board for his grades. Gerber. Gibbler. Yes! Gildersleeve!

Kumi wasn't kidding. Not in the least. Sam had never seen anything like it in all his thirteen long years.

He gave me a Z!?! Sam shouted across the commons. A Z!!!! He began to repeat the letter over and over. Then... What's a Z?

A crowd of students gathered around him and, to a boy and girl, not one of them had any idea what a Z was.

I think a Z means you failed seventh grade and you’ll have to take everything all over again, said Vicky Ubo.

That’s the least of his worries, chimed in Zane Bickladder. A Z means you cheated and you're gonna get expelled and go to jail.

No! I’m too short for jail! Sam yelled.

I don’t think there’s a height requirement.

Well, I didn’t cheat.

They don't send you to jail for cheating, argued Kumi, who had Sam's back on this one. And you’re too young for jail.

I think it's some kind of demonic sign, theorized Mallory Kotos. She always wore black and spewed phrase after phrase of morbidness like she was being paid by the syllable. I think you're gonna die by lethal injection or hanging or neural clipping or worse.

"Well, thanks for cheering me up everybody! Kumi, you mentioned