Free Grand & Humble by Brent Hartinger

spoke to Manny from his place at the science officer’s station. “I’m picking up some kind of large astral body up ahead.”
    “On-screen,” Manny said, crossing to the captain’s chair, where he took his seat. But as he sat, something crunched underneath him. He stood up again and looked down to see that he’d crushed a pair of wire-rim spectacles.
    He ignored the spectacles and glanced up at the viewscreen, which now revealed a large swath of deep space. In the middle of the screen was a great ice-encrusted asteroid barreling right at them.
    “I don’t like the look of that! ” Dr. McCoy saidfrom a seat next to Manny’s.
    “According to my calculations,” Mr. Spock said, “we are on a direct collision course with the asteroid.”
    “Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Sulu,” Manny said.
    Mr. Sulu, sitting at the helm, punched helplessly at the controls. “I’m sorry, Captain,” he said. “The controls are not responding.” He sniffed the air. “Does anyone else smell gasoline?”
    Manny hit a button in the armrest of the captain’s chair; it activated an intercom to the Engine Room. “Dad?” he said. “Are you there?”
    There was no answer.
    “Dad!”
    “Engine Room here,” said a voice. It was a man, but it was definitely not his father.
    “You’re not my dad,” Manny said.
    “Yes, I am,” said the voice.
    “No, you’re not!”
    “Captain,” Mr. Spock said. “Logic would dictate that it does not matter at this point whether the man in the Engine Room is your actual genetic forebear.”
    Manny agreed. “We’ve lost control of the helm!” he said to the Engine Room. “Can you get us back online?”
    There was a moment’s hesitation. Then the voicesaid, “No.” And with that, Manny and the U.S.S. Enterprise slammed right into the ice-encrusted asteroid.
     
    So did you talk to him? Elsa signed eagerly.
    Manny nodded.
    And? Elsa said. What did he say?
    That he couldn’t get the helm back online, Manny thought. And as a result, we’d crashed into the ice-encrusted asteroid. Oh, Manny remembered, and he also wasn’t my dad.
    He and Elsa were standing in the hallway before class. Manny had another headache, and his eyesight was as blurry as ever. But Elsa was staring at him, waiting for an answer.
    He was even weirder than before , Manny said. There’s definitely something he’s not telling me. I think it’s something that happened to me as a kid.
    What makes you think that?
    A feeling. But I’m sure of it.
    So that’s it! The movie’s off! Suddenly, Elsa’s signs were fast and wide.
    Why?
    Because now we have a new project: we have to find out what happened to you when you were a kid!
    Really? Manny said.
    Are you kidding? Now I’m just as curious as you!
     
    The stairs still creaked on the way down to the basement. But this time Manny wasn’t dreading what was at the bottom of those stairs; this time he was eager to get to the bottom—of the stairs, and of whatever the hell it was that was causing his nightmares.
    Why down here? Elsa signed at the base of the stairs. Why not start looking in your dad’s bedroom?
    It’s just another feeling I have , Manny said. I think there’s something down here—a clue or something .
    In the light of the bare bulb overhead, they stared at all the clutter piled haphazardly up against the concrete walls—folding chairs, an old sewing machine, the croquet set, lawn furniture, a table leaf, a computer monitor, and several shopping bags full of wire coat hangers. There were also plenty of cardboard boxes.
    Neither Manny nor Elsa said anything for a second. A big brown spider darted across the floor, a nimble cluster of long legs desperate for shelter from the light. But halfway across the concrete, the spider stopped, and Manny realized that it was hunting, not running, and that it had captured some kind of prey.
    It’s hard to look for something when you don’t know what you’re looking for , Elsa signed.
    You’re not kidding , Manny