Rieden Reece and the Scroll of Life: Mystery, Adventure and a Thirteen-Year-Old Hero's Journey. (Middle Grade Science Fiction and Fantasy. Book 3 of 7 Book Series.)

By Matt Guzman and Stephanie Slagle

When Ri is thrust into the Candy Cosmos-a strange universe filled with sugar-inspired aliens-he acquires unlimited power! No limits-anything he desires becomes reality with one finger snap.

 

There's only one catch.

 

Although surrounded by mouthwatering delicacies, he cannot take a single bite.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mindfast Publishing
• Release date: Jan 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798989545803

Matt Guzman

Matt Guzman is somewhat spoiled. The residents of beautiful San Diego, CA allow him to live there, and they barely complain about it. After managing restaurants for twenty years, he made a drastic decision. Quit. And use everything he learned the hard way about leadership and communication to help children. He's obsessed with emotional health and storytelling. Combining these two passions, Matt crafts sci-fi stories for his twelve-year-old self-still hiding inside his adult brain. He once won an honorable mention from the Writers of the Future Contest. That went straight to his head and now there's no stopping him.

Book preview

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Rieden Reece and the Scroll of Life: Book Three is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, businesses, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2024 by Matt Guzman

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Published by Mindfast Publishing 3245 University Avenue Suite 1132, San Diego, CA 92104

Visit the author’s website at www.authormattguzman.com

Cover by Kim Dingwall; Edited by Stephanie Slagle; Author photo by Donald Carlton

ISBN 979-8-9895458-0-3 (ebook) ISBN 979-8-9865098-8-4 (paperback) ISBN 979-8-9865098-9-1 (hardcover) ISBN 979-8-9895458-1-0 (audiobook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023921716

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Names: Guzman, Matt, author.

Title: Rieden Reece and the scroll of life , book three / Matt Guzman.

Series: Rieden Reece Description: San Diego, CA: Mindfast Publishing, 2024.

Identifiers: LCCN: 2023921716 | ISBN 979-8-9865098-9-1 (hardcover) | 979-8-9865098-8-4 (paperback) | 979-8-9895458-0-3 (ebook) | 979-8-9895458-1-0 (audiobook)

Subjects: LCSH Extraterrestrial beings--Fiction. | Human-alien encounters--Fiction. | Science fiction. | Adventure fiction. | BISAC YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Science Fiction / General

Classification: LCC PS3607.U986 R545 2024 | DDC 813.6--dc23

First Edition: January 2024

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Printed in the United States of America

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Contents

Dedication

Epigraph

1.The Big Bang

2.The Aerial Ascent

3.The Confectionery Cosmos

4.The Dark Deimos

5.The Enigmatic Eclipse

6.The Regolith Reptiles

7.The Magnetar Museum

8.The Steller Shakedown

9.The Magnificent Metamorphosis

10.The Galactic Gauntlet

11.The Tectonic Track

12.The Intergalactic Interloper

13.The Lenticular Litigation

14.The Faculae Fallacy

15.The Nova Negotiations

16.The Supermassive Scrimmage

17.The Kinetic Karate

18.The Joule Jaunt

19.The Halo Hologram

20.The Uncertainty Unveiled

21.The Omega Opinion

22.The Parallax Parade

23.The Venomous Vortex

24.The Quanta Quip

25.The Original Observatory

26.The Xerographic Xenotransplant

27.The Wavelength Wedge

28.The Retrograde Reality

29.The Zodiac Zenith

30.The Yellow Yeggman

31.The Luminosity Liability

32.The Absolute Aberration

Acknowledgements

For my sister and her beloved children. All of whom love me unconditionally and much more than I ever deserve. I hope this story brings them the same joy I experienced while writing it.

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The game of life is often about figuring out when to accept the rules you disagree with and when to choose to break them. – The Atomic Protector

1

The Big Bang

Atowering stack of illegally acquired library books blocked Ri’s view of the door. Clutching the stack with determined grit, he leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. The top of the precarious stack swayed above his head. He kicked the wooden door hard with the front of his shoe.

No response. Come on! Rob? Brian?

Ri grunted. He wanted to avoid shouting out loud because the garage they were hiding in belonged to Carry and Jeff Alden. Two old, retired seasonal residents gone early for the summer. But their nosy neighbors watched like hawks. Ri whisper-shouted, Brian. Brian. Brian! Open the door.

His arms strained and ached.

The door whipped open too fast, and Ri stumbled forward. The books swayed and swayed while he scrambled to keep them from toppling. In the process, Ri tripped over his shoelace. The books toppled and crashed like nose-diving birds flapping their wild wings. Most of the books tumbled onto the workbench his lettuce-brother-Robert was busy poring over.

Lifting his lettuce-wrap fingers, Rob blocked the barrage. Bits of iceberg chunked off his body where the books sliced him into dinner salad. Rob growled. Dude! Broseph! I’m working here!

Ri glared at Brian, who gave him a big O stare through his thick Star Wars glasses. Bending over, Ri started picking up the books strewn across the concrete floor. He jabbed an angry finger at Brian. With a quick jump, Brian obeyed and helped snatch up the books.

They dropped their piles on the workbench. Ri pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and set it down in the usual spot. He then peeled away the pile covering Rob’s ruined papers. Once he had removed all the books, he glanced at the papers covered with strange symbols. He scratched his chin. What language is this? Is this the way the people in your universe communicate?

The large head of lettuce representing Rob’s face shifted. Two beady, black animal eyes blinked at him. Rob lifted his lettuce-rolled fingers and waved them like a jiggling feast of hors d’oeuvres. No, bro. It’s English. It’s hard to write with these stupid leaf limbs. We need to get those new computers from school storage in here. It’s taking forever using a calculator and pen. At this rate, I’ll be pig fodder before we figure out how to fix me. If I can upload some algorithms, I can speed this process along.

Oblivious to their personal space, Brian pushed between the two brothers. He picked up a crumpled piece of paper and examined it sideways. I’m good at math. What do you need? I could help. Is that a thirteen or a B? How about you dictate while I write. Where’s all the info? In your head? Which book are you gonna read first? Can you read with those weird eyes? I could read it out loud…

The Reece twins froze into statue mode. They stared at Brian with three levels of incredulous disbelief. Brian shoved his glasses up his nose. What?

Rob moved his right lettuce appendage and tried to grab the crumpled paper out of Brian’s hand. Instead, he kind of batted it like a flyswatter missing a fly. Brian dropped the paper in front of him. Rob cradled his iceberg head with his lettuce tubes, shaking his head back and forth. I’m never gonna fix this. This is taking too long. There’s too much to do. And I’m stuck here in this stupid salad prison. Can’t do anything!

Ri pursed his lips. He had rarely ever seen his brother so frustrated or giving into despair. Rob was his rock. His foundation. The twin brother who could tackle any obstacle, solve any problem, rise to any occasion, and win. But to see him wallowing in defeat and despair? Come on, bro. You’ve got this. Ri placed his hand on the dull green lettuce of Rob’s back. The surface felt cold, clammy, and a bit slimy. Rob, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure this out. We’ve just gotta form a good plan and stick to it. We’ll work around the clock. We’ll get this solved in no time. You’ll have your human body back soon.

Rob’s sloping shoulders shivered. He pointed at the stack of books. Did you get everything on the list?

Every last one. I carried them on my bike in a trash bag. Should’ve brought the bag inside, wasn’t thinking.

With a loud smack, Brian slapped the stack. Twenty-six. They don’t let you check out twenty-six books. How’d you get them? You didn’t steal them too, did you?

Both brothers chimed, We borrowed them, at the same time. They exchanged glances and chuckled. They lifted their hands and performed their two-finger sign. Correction. Two fingers and two lettuce wraps.

While emitting a long, terrible-sounding whistle, Brian shook his head with frenetic fervor. Man, oh man. We’re gonna get busted. Now we’re stealing library books, too. That’s lower than low.

Rob jerked a wad of lettuce-wrapped fingers toward Brian. Where’d you dig this joker up?

Careful, broseph. Brian gets a bit sensitive about teasing. Ri ignored Brian’s wide eyes and cleared his throat. Come on. Focus. What’re we working on here? Lettuce help, pun intended. Ri kicked up a sardonic grin.

Rob let out a long sigh—it sounded like wet leaves rustling in the wind. Okay. Let me hand out assignments…

Brian’s high-pitched squeal interrupted the training session.

Whipping his head around, Ri followed Brian’s locked, wide-eyed stare. He peered through the garage’s only window. Two little girl hands cupped around snooping eyes spied on them.

Shelly Sanderson.

An acid whirlpool in the pit of his stomach swirled. He spent no time untangling his own reactions. Only one emotion fueled his behavior—pure, unadulterated fury. Why oh why oh why is Shelly so stinkin’ nosy?

While storming back over to the door, Ri stomped his feet. He yanked the door wide open. Shelly shuffled away from the window wearing a curious expression. For a change, she remained silent. Ri grunted through gritted teeth, What’re you doing here?

Shelly bobbed her curly hair side to side. Um. I’m sorry. I guess I was spying. Only curious. Whatcha boys up to in there?

She didn’t even deny it. Ri poked his head through the doorway and stole a glance at the neighbor’s house. Grabbing Shelly’s wrist roughly, he yanked her inside the garage. He pushed her roughly toward the middle of the room and slammed the door shut.

With a tentative hand, Shelly waved. Brian and lettuce-Rob provided a limp wave in return. Ri slapped his forehead. This is bad. Bad, bad, bad. Ri cleared his throat. Shelly. You shouldn’t have come. You don’t wanna get involved with this.

Shelly stared at lettuce-Rob. Her eyes wide, her mouth dropped open, and her hands holding her cheeks. She shook her head in slow motion. Again, uncharacteristic silence.

Good ol’ Brian stepped up to the plate. Ahem, yes. Welcome. Meet lettuce-Rob, Ri’s twin brother from another universe. He traveled back to our Earth to help us defeat the invading alien cockroaches. Then he, uh, accidentally fused his consciousness with a pile of lettuce. Please excuse his nakedness. We would’ve gotten him some clothes if we’d known girls were coming. We’re working on fixing his body so he can be human again, but time is ticking. We, um, ‘borrowed’ a bunch of library books to calculate how to fix him. We’re building a device.

Ri frowned in Brian’s direction. Why did he change his voice? He sounds like an annoying announcer. Okay, Shelly. You found us. Are you gonna tell?

Shelly glanced around the garage, running her eyes up and down the dusty clutter. Brian jumped to attention and grabbed a folding lawn chair to the right of lettuce-Rob. He dragged it across the concrete floor and shoved it at Shelly—the scratching echoes bounced. Ri shushed him.

With her face contorted into a combination of shock and worry, Shelly moved the chair and sat down. Ri hated her look. He hated her interruption. Why does she have to be such a mini-mom? If it weren’t for her nosy, in-your-business personality, I might’ve considered her a friend. Now. Now what does she think? Shelly. Are you gonna tell on us?

Shelly blinked and glanced around, regaining some of her composure. She waved at lettuce-Rob. Are you okay?

Rob waved his drooping leafy limbs around. Um. No. Not at all. No worries, we got this. Are you gonna help?

Ri stepped forward, catching Shelly’s gaze. What he means is, we’ve got a ton to do. Are you gonna stay and help us solve the equation? Otherwise, you gotta leave us alone so we can work. What’s it gonna be? You gonna tattle?

The bangs of Shelly’s crazy curls vibrated. Rieden Reece, I’m not five years old. I’m not gonna ‘tattle.’ I’m concerned. Whose garage is this?

Okay. Here’s the Shelly I know. Don’t worry about it. Okay, the less you know, the better. We’re fine. If the neighbors didn’t see you following me in, we’re fine. We blocked the surveillance system. By the time the old dudes up in Washington send someone over to check on it, we’ll be long gone.

Shelly frowned. She stared at Ri and then stared at Brian. Brian crumpled under her scrutiny and shuffled his feet, looking away. Shelly didn’t intimidate him; she only ticked him off. She shrugged. Okay. I’m not into breaking rules. But these are extenuating circumstances.

Rob’s lettuce grin cracked wide below his beady alien eyes. He turned and pointed a salad hand at Ri. See? I told you she was cool. You never gave her a chance.

Staring at the space between Rob and Ri, Shelly squinted her inquisitive eyes. Ri sighed, his cheeks burning. Ahem. Yes, well, thanks for your help, Shelly. Rob will assign you a book. We’ve got to get to work. Rob doesn’t have much time left. We’re not sure how much.

While crossing her arms, Shelly cleared her throat. Rieden, may I ask you one question? She used her serious classroom voice.

Ri shrugged. What?

If your brother got trapped in lettuce form, then whose funeral are we all attending next week?

Ri closed one eye and scrunched up his forehead. I’ve got zero time to explain to her weeks of adventures. Besides, she won’t even believe half of it. I lived through it, and I can hardly believe it happened. Everyone thinks Rob’s dead. All because he left his body behind when traveling to an alternate universe. And it’s my fault Rob’s consciousness is stuck inside a pile of lettuce. When he tried to travel back to help me, he messed up the transfer and fused with leftover lettuce in the field. No way Shelly’s gonna believe such craziness. And even if she does, now I’m adding on another person who knows my secrets. I took a super major risk bringing Brian into the fold, and now I’m stuck. Shelly too? Way, way too much.

Again, Brian leaped to the rescue. They found Robert’s body, but he had already transferred his consciousness to another universe. If we can fix lettuce-Rob, then we’ll have Rob back, for realsies. We can stop the funeral. We can tell everyone Rob’s still alive.

Rob rustled his leaves. Shelly raised and then lowered one eyebrow.

Yes, well, it’s complicated, said Ri. "Brian, remember Rob is here on a covert operation. If everyone knows he’s alive, it will compromise his mission. There are many players involved. So, let’s focus on the task at hand. Fixing Rob’s fused molecules. Rob, which book should Shelly read?"

For the next hour, the four of them each read their separate books. Writing computations. Studying formulas. Creating strategies. Forming new ideas. Growing the device list. Whittling down the math. Four nerds doing nerdy things. For a few moments, Ri’s anxious stress dissipated while his mind focused on the problem. Shelly even seemed to get into it. She stopped giving Ri strange looks and concern-filled stares.

Rob slammed his clammy leaves on the workbench. His slimy green body shivered. We’ve got a problem.

Brian and Ri asked, What is it? in unison.

The thirteen transfers. Through the thirteen universes. I came here in a hurry. I think a bit of me broke off. Or got stolen. Hijacked. Some thieving alien hacked an important piece of my consciousness or something. Harvested by alien scavengers, intercepting past-change anomalies. I can sense it. More than being stuck in this soggy garnish. Without a universal database, I can’t research my theory. I’ve heard stories. Once they hijack your consciousness, it attracts all sorts of meddling criminal aliens. Rob stopped talking, the tips of his leaves shivering.

Ri resisted his urge to grab Rob and shake him, lest he damage his frail frame. Dude. Broseph. You’re starting in the middle and talking in circles. A piece of you broke off? Alien scavengers and criminals? What ridiculous nonsense are you babbling on about?

Rob stared at the calculations before him and blinked his beady black eyes twice. Forget what I said. How it happened isn’t important. The point is this: if we don’t fix me fast, I’m dead in about a week.

2

The Aerial Ascent

All through the night and into the next morning at school, the burdensome weight of his dead brother’s impending death hung over Ri’s head. It formed a dark, ominous cloud full of gray dampness and despair. At first, having his brother back had overjoyed him. But now the thought of losing him all over again crushed his soul.

This new dread seemed unbearable.

With slow deliberation, Ri pulled his stinky gym clothes out of his locker. Brian stormed up from behind and invaded his personal space. Ri. Brian tried to whisper, but his voice carried. Have you come up with a plan yet? Did you find out what the aliens stole from your brother? Do you know how to find them? This whole thing’s stressing me out. I’m not sure what we should do. What’re we gonna do? You gotta plan?

His emotional detachment from Brian’s anxiety made his friend seem like he stood miles away. No irritation. No frustration. No nothing. His own response to Brian also came from a distance, as if he were watching two other people talk. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. I need time to think. I’ll create a plan before we meet up tonight. Brian’s strained voice continued babbling. Ri heard nothing and shuffled away from the lockers, lost in a detached trance.

Ri focused his mind on his surroundings. His therapist—Esther Evans—had taught him to channel his anxiety into the present moment. To ground himself in physical reality. Okay. Ri surveyed his surroundings. PE Class. Mr. Bosser’s immense frame stood nearby, towering over the kids. His mouth moved. Mr. Bosser must be shouting. Ri couldn’t activate his hearing. He coughed. I heard that. He forced himself to move his eyes and followed a line of kids. They were waiting to climb the rope attached to the ceiling. Oh, yeah. I hate this stupid rope.

He stared down at the smooth maple hardwood floor of the gymnasium. He kicked his sneaker into the wax and created a squeaking noise. Yup, I heard that, too. The kids’ line moved. Ri took another step forward. His anxiety about his wilting brother fused with his current dilemma. The image of his brother’s browning edges churned his stomach acid. That combined with his phobia of climbing rope meant he was not having a good time. I have zero plus zero athletic ability. That’s Rob’s department. Rob had been born with the natural grace to control his body.

Yet now, their roles were reversed. Rob couldn’t even write on a paper because of his lettuce fingers. And here the teacher was forcing Ri to climb the evil rope. A slithering snake. The treacherous path to another world. He tried to interrupt his intrusive thoughts. They sprang from the back of his mind like uncontrollable weeds pushing forward. His conscious mind—the helpless victim. No will. No power. Only the ultimate observer watching his soul burn up in flames. What’s. Wrong. With. Me?

A loud whistle pierced through Ri’s dark cloud. He blinked away his mental fog and focused on Mr. Bosser’s imposing face. The PE teacher stood only inches from him, blowing hard on the whistle until his cheeks turned red. Ri snapped his head back—the kids behind him in line covered their ears.

The world snapped back into focus. Somehow, he had arrived at the front of the line. Mr. Bosser—winner of the Most Annoying Teacher of the Year award, for sure—shouted, "You’re up, Reece."

Ri’s heart pounded in his chest. The slithering alien whispered to him with swaying echoes. Ri forced an ironic grin. I’ll pass.

Mr. Bosser squeezed the whistle in his hand until his knuckles turned white. Have you not been paying attention? Class! How many times are you gonna make me repeat myself? No passes today! Mr. Bosser pointed his thick finger toward the rope, stabbing the air. Three lines: Pass, A plus, Pool Party. So far, everyone’s made it to Pool Party level. Are you telling me you can’t climb ten feet and at least pass? Come on! You’re holding up the line.

His mom and Esther had told him to take time off