The California Kids Who Saved Cosmic Civilization

By Samuel O. Spooner

As darkness falls over northern California, twelve-year-old science-nerd Jacky Spacer and his ten-year-old brother Chris watch a huge fireball flash to earth out beyond their father's apple orchard. Despite Dad's dire warning to stay at home, Jacky feels certain that someone or something is calling out to him from the crash site. This is the extraordinary story of the earth-shaking events that unfold after the boys sneak out to explore the site in the dead of night. Their mind-boggling discovery not only turns them into fugitives from a nosy local lawman, it also turns their world upside down. Eventually, it even reveals an explosive secret about the earth's future so big that the kids must help save the planet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Aug 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781483472010

Book preview

Kant

One

A sudden flash of fire splashed across the California night sky — it was quickly followed by the loudest sonic BOOM that Jacky Spacer and his younger brother Chris had ever heard. Their nearly twin faces immediately tilted skyward to watch as the blazing orange fireball fell to earth somewhere nearby, out past the family apple orchard. When the startling cosmic voyager finally hit the ground, the boys swiveled to stare at each other, and instantly realized that it had not only been a jaw-dropping encounter for each of them — it had also raised their eyebrows and jolted their deep blue eyes wide open to cosmic possibilities.

The Spacer family had recently purchased a vine-covered bungalow in rural Shasta County, and the two boys, twelve-year-old Jack and ten-year-old Christopher, had been simply chilling out, enjoying another cool late-autumn evening on the front porch aboard a rugged wooden bench that Grandfather Pepper had hand-crafted for them. As they often did while waiting for darkness to fall, they’d been playing games on their iPads when the mysterious fire ball streaked across the sky with an astronomically BIG BANG and landed just north of their father’s famous Granny Smith apple orchard.

Oh my gosh, Chris! If that was a meteor, it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.

I know — I know. It — that thing was so big and so bright, it almost blinded me. I had to blink my eyes even before it landed. I — I thought maybe a huge chunk of the moo — moon was falling out of orbit.

That’s not going to happen, Chris — but it looks like some sort of strange body hurtled in from outer space. Whatever it was, its speed seemed too erratic to be a meteor, Jacky said, glancing down at the device on his lap.

Holy smoke, Chris, look at this! The angry birds that were on my screen all flew away and left it black as the night sky out there — and it periodically traces the exact glowing arc of that weird ball of fire. Look, the fireball actually flames out just before it disappears right behind the shadowy outline of Dad’s orchard. And the video just keeps recycling — first the screen goes completely dark — then it replays the fireball landing again.

Chris looked down at the device on his own lap. That’s weird, mine went completely dead, he said, glancing over to watch the strange video-loop that was playing on Jacky’s screen. Two loops later, he added with a little shiver, This is getting way too scary.

Yup, and I didn’t realize just how eerie and exciting it really is until I watched the instant replay loop several times, Jacky said.

In Mrs. Spacer’s temporary absence, her husband had taken complete responsibility for the homeschooling of their two sons. Lately, he’d been referring to his oldest son as the whiz-kid of Shasta County because Jacky had taken to wearing the science teacher’s hat during their homeschooling sessions.

What in the world didja’ dig up this time, big brother brainiac?

I discovered that I was right from the very get go, Chris — this thing was no danged meteor. Look at the video again — our otherworldly fireball is definitely decelerating as it descends.

What does that mean?

It means that something or somebody was putting on the brakes as that flaming thingamajig thundered to earth, Chris — and it looks very much like whatever that thing is, it wanted me personally to know about it.

Wait, wait — what makes you think invaders from space want you to know what they’re up to, Jacky?

First of all, Chris, what makes you think they’re invaders? And, second, can you explain why the flight path of that fireball keeps replaying on my device, while your iPad has gone completely dark?

Chris stared at the strange looping video on Jacky’s tablet one more time. His mouth fell open again — and he began to shiver a bit harder.

I bet, after seeing that video, you’ll be way too much of a fwaidy cat to gwab a fwashwight and go out to help me twack down the thing that flew in from space, won’t you, Chwis? Jacky teased.

I ain’t falling for that trick again, Jacky. Every darn time you want me to get mixed up in one of your dangerous science stunts, you start makin’ fun of me.

Really, Christopher?

Really, Jack. It ain’t anywhere near as scary as this fireball thing, but remember the time you teased me into helpin’ you make a backyard rocket by running around the living room flappin’ your arms and callin’ me a — cluck, cluck, cluck — chicken?

Well, that rocket really worked, didn’t it, Buck Rogers?

Well, yeah, it sorta’ worked, Jacky — first you showed me how to build a rocket ship by duck taping a cone onto the bottom of an old plastic bottle. Then you showed me two big-old test tubes with corks at the top — one was full of smelly brown liquid and the other had white powder in it — you said if we mixed them together, they’d make magic rocket fuel.

That they did, didn’t they, chicken boy? Jacky asked.

Yeah, and it wasn’t till maybe a year later that I found out your magic rocket fuel was really just vinegar and baking soda that you’d snagged from Mom’s pantry. Well anyway, silly me, I loaded up the rocket fuel all by myself next morning, remember?

"How could I forget, Chris? I told you we’d do it together in the backyard. That’s why I called it a backyard rocket, Einstein. But you figured since I already showed you some stuff, that made you a rocket scientist, right? You sneak down at 6:00 a.m. — you attempt to fuel the rocket up on Mom’s kitchen table — the dang thing shoots off almost immediately — and Dad has to repair the kitchen ceiling to clean up your disaster."

Well, it wasn’t my fault, Jacky. Remember, you chickened me into doin’ it, then you pretty much showed me what to do. I got all excited and couldn’t wait to see how it worked. I was just gonna’ get it ready so when you got outta’ bed.

Forget it, Chris, that was a half-life ago — and we were both just atom ants at the time. I believe that we both advanced light years in science since the kitchen-table fiasco.

Well, the point is, braniac, every time you tease me into gettin’ tangled up in one of your weirdo science adventures, somethin’ awful like that happens.

Bet you can’t even name one other incident like that, Chris.

Are you kiddin’ me? There’s dozens of them. How ’bout the time you wanted to show me how the law of gravity works? What’s that guy’s name who discovered it with a falling apple?

You mean, Newton, Chris?

Yeah, that’s the guy — Apple Newton. Anyway, you pestered me into helpin’ ya with another one of your weird science projects. I remember you used that old cannon ball that Mom found buried in the backyard in LA. And, somehow, it — well, it had sprouted a handle.

Jacky chuckled out loud. Dad welded a handle on it so he could temporarily use it for exercising until his weight-lifting equipment arrived, rocket scientist, he said.

Oh, whatever, Chris said. Anyway, you hooked a long wire to it — and then you hung the cannon ball from the top bar of our swing set — and the first time I swung it way back and let it go, the darn ball flew off and put a huge dent in the tailgate of Dad’s old Ford pickup truck.

Yup, remember, I told you it was going to be a pendulum when I finished working on it, Chris? I was going to demonstrate some of Newton’s laws of motion for you. You weren’t even supposed to be touching it yet. Come to think of it, though, that dent probably was a pretty good demonstration of what happens when a body in motion encounters a stationary one.

Sometimes, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Jacky, Chris said, shrugging his slender shoulders. Point is, this time I really am scared as heck. And you really oughta’ be scared too. But, guess what, I’m gonna’ join you tonight if you go out to look for that fireball thing anyway — and it isn’t gonna’ be cuz you teased me into doin’ it, either.

Just then the front door flew open and their father, Jim Spacer — a tall muscular man sporting the family’s telltale square jawline — stepped out onto the porch, pulling on his old green-and-khaki camouflage jacket.

You’ll do nothing of the sort, he said. How to heck would anybody know what that thing is — it may be dangerous — who knows, maybe it’s still filled with poison gases or radioactive stuff.

Or a big green Martian monster with ten tentacles and five eyes, Jacky said.

Look, like your sensible little brother just told you, Jacky, this isn’t anything to laugh about, his father said, I’d have gotten out here sooner, but I was hunting for one of our camping lanterns. That darn meteor — or whatever that thing was — killed all our electric power. I tried to call Sheriff Strong over in Redding, but the phone is dead too. It even knocked out my cellphone. Come into the house this instant, guys — we’ll let the authorities investigate this fireball mystery in the morning.

Aw, c’mon, Dad, Jacky said, sometimes you can be outright overprotective. I really think me and Chris should grab our flashlights and go out to investigate immediately — after all how many times will we get a chance like this?

A chance like what? Jim Spacer asked.

Look at this, Dad, Jacky said, holding the tablet up for his father to see, I wasn’t going to mention this, but Chris and me — we made — well, we made a discovery — whatever that thing is — something or someone was putting the brakes on just before it landed.

Jim Spacer let loose with one long high-pitched whistle through the generous gap between his unmistakably Spacer front teeth. Another good reason why you guys need to steer your star-crossed tails inside right now, he said.

Jacky couldn’t even explain it to himself, but for some strange reason, he felt gripped by an urgent need to take immediate action. Wait a minute, Dad, I’ve got an idea — your tractor has lights on it — and the farm wagon is already hooked up to it. Chris and I could hitch a ride in the back. If we find anything alive out there, we can offer friendship and first aid. Who knows, it might even be the first visitors ever to come to earth from another world. Perhaps we’ll be recognized as goodwill ambassadors on worldwide TV.

Now hear this! I appreciate your goodwill, but we have no idea whether that thing is hazardous or not — so we’re all going into the house where we’ll be safer. And we’re going to do it right now, his father said. Furthermore, I want you two astronuts to promise me that you’ll go upstairs to bed and stay put for the night.

Jacky looked at Chris and briefly shook his head from side-to-side. Chris looked back at Jacky, shrugged his slender shoulders and winked.

I saw that, Mr. Spacer said. I know you two swashbucklers are disappointed, but you’re not sailing off into the dark night armed with just flashlights and plastic light sabers to look for a sunken space ship. In case I haven’t made myself clear, whatever remains of that thing, it could be extremely hazardous to your health. So pack up your bad ideas and get yourselves to bed, buccaneers.

The boys slept in a homemade bunkbed in the bungalow’s smaller bedroom up in the second story loft that used to be an attic before their parents bought the place. Dad and Mom both loved the quaint little combination bookstore and coffee shop they had owned and operated together for two decades just outside of Los Angeles. But over time they’d grown more and more upset with the smog — and the traffic — and the city schools. Both of their sons were exceptional students — and Jacky had recently been recognized as gifted. They had often talked of finding time to homeschool the boys — and they had spoken a thousand times about moving north.

It was not until Chris began to suffer from asthma that they finally cut the decision to move up to the Shasta County boonies where Jim himself had been born and raised. They were interested in a three or four-bedroom home on a good-sized parcel of land where Jim Spacer could farm fruit trees, the whole family could live close to nature, and everyone would be able to breathe fresh air. The plan was to drive up north as many times as necessary and spend a few days at a time until they found precisely the rural paradise that they had in mind. Naturally, the boys were quite psyched-up about the prospect of living in the wide-open spaces and attending open-ended homeschooling classes. The family computer nerd, older-son Jacky, quickly completed a most fruitful property search.

How does a couple of hundred acres with a mature apple orchard, a spacious bungalow, a rustic old red barn, several outbuildings, and a farm tractor sound, Dad? Jacky asked.

On the very next Sunday, the whole family had driven up to Shasta County with the idea of looking at several properties, including Jacky’s desktop-computer discovery. They’d been disappointed with the first two properties because both were situated too close to Redding. Jacky’s apple-orchard find was located about thirty-five miles northeast of town just off California route 299 — it had majestic views of both Mount Shasta to the north and Lassen Peak to the south — and, what’s more, there was a huge federally designated wilderness area just to the north of the orchard. Jim, Maggie, Jack, and Christopher — the entire Spacer family — had fallen fast in love with it at first glance.

Mrs. Spacer had been amazed over just how magically it matched the promised land in her mind. Why, it’s almost as though our fate and fortune are written in the stars, she told the family.

So that young Christopher would have immediate relief from the ungodly smog of the Los Angeles suburbs, Dad and the boys had moved on ahead as soon as the escrow had closed. Maggie Pepper Spacer, his wife of twenty years, and mother of the two boys, who’d lived in LA all her life, had stayed behind to oversee the sale of their bookstore. The plan was that once it was sold, she would rejoin the family up north, and open a similar business — dealing in rare and hard-to-find specialty books — both in-store and online — in nearby Redding.

After he’d gotten the boys in the house following the strange fireball incident, Dad had held a battery-powered lantern while they climbed the stairs carrying their now lifeless iPads. Jacky had insisted that they not get undressed, so they simply pulled their shoes off in the dark. Chris had climbed to the top bunk where he always slept — and fallen right to sleep. Too bad, because Jacky had hoped to talk with him about sneaking out after Dad was asleep. The tiny room was pitch black and eerily silent. Jacky lay back on the mattress pad on the bottom bunk and listened to the sound of his own heartbeat. For what seemed like five minutes short of forever, he tried to sleep — tried to forget the mysterious thing that had flashed across the night sky and landed out there beyond Dad’s apple orchard — the thing that now — unbelievably — seemed to be urgently beckoning him.

Two

Jacky awoke suddenly — at least he thought he was awake — he remembered dreaming that he had heard a strange squeaky, almost unworldly, voice calling for help in the darkness — maybe he was still dreaming. His iPad had slipped off the bedside nightstand where he’d stowed it in the dark when they had first come upstairs. It was now lying open on the floor about a foot-and-a-half from the bed, and flashing ON and OFF in short bursts. The ON cycle was extremely bright, and there seemed to be a series of all-cap WORDS written across the screen. Jacky couldn’t believe he’d ever do such a dumb thing, but he pinched himself hard on his left wrist using his right thumb and forefinger — just to see if he was really awake.

OUCH.

Are you alright, Jacky? a tiny voice whispered from the top bunk. Where’s all that flashing light coming from, anyway?

I’m okay, Chris, Jacky whispered back, but it looks like my iPad is doing strange stuff again.

Jacky swung his legs out until his feet quietly touched the Berber-carpeted floor. He sat up straight in the dark — reached over to pick up the blinking device — and read the message that kept flashing ON and OFF on its screen:

YOU KNOW WHERE I AM

PLEASE HELP NOW

COSMIC CIVILIZATION IS AT STAKE

Before Jacky could say another word, his brother