Free My Teacher Is an Alien by Bruce Coville Page B

Stacy and Mike don't have much choice," I said.
    "Sure they do," said Peter.
    "What do you mean by that?" I asked.
    But he wouldn't answer me. "Just watch," he said. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

 

     
     
Microsoft Corporation

CHAPTER NINETEEN - Peter's Choice
     
    That afternoon I finally began to understand Peter's "alternate plan."
    Actually, it took me a little while to figure it out. I knew there was something strange going on when Peter—the kid who always knew the answer but never bothered to give it—started raising his hand for every question that came along.
    And suddenly it all came clear to me. Peter wanted, to be picked by Broxholm. He had decided that this was his big chance to live the kind of science fiction adventure he had been dreaming about. He figured if he really tried, he might just be able to make it from "bright, but unmotivated" to being, without question, the best student in the class.
    You could almost see the gleam in Broxholm's alien eyes when Peter unleashed his mighty brain.
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    We were having a history lesson at the time, and Peter started to answer every question perfectly.
    Broxholm started asking harder questions, but Peter never blinked; he just kept reeling off the answers. Even I had no idea how smart that kid was. (And as for Broxholm, I swear, that alien must have memorized an encyclopedia; or maybe he had one transplanted into his head. Who knows what these people could do?)
    When school was over I dragged Peter off to the side of the playground. "Are you crazy?" I hissed. "What are you doing?"
    "Plan B," said Peter. "If we can't unmask Broxholm, I want to be one of the ones to go on the ship."
    "Forget Plan B!" I yelled. "You don't know what they're going to do to you up there. They're bad!"
    "You don't know that," said Peter.
    "They kidnapped Ms. Schwartz!"
    He shrugged. "That still doesn't mean they're bad. They may be so far above us they think of us like we think of ants or something."
    I didn't say a word. But he could tell by my expression that I thought that was stupid.
    "Maybe they're scared of us," he continued.
    That made me laugh.
    "I'm serious," said Peter. "Think of that conversation you had with him yesterday."
    "I can't," I said. "It still scares me."
    "No, think about it," said Peter again. "Maybe these people are really peaceful. Maybe they've seen how much we fight, and they're afraid if we get much farther into space, we'll cause some huge war."
    "You don't know that," I said stubbornly. "Anyway, maybe we won't have to worry about it. Let's go to the drugstore to get our pictures."
    It took all our money for the pictures. I thought about explaining to the girl behind the counter that we were trying to stop an alien invasion, but I figured she probably wouldn't buy it.
    We forced ourselves not to open the envelope until we were in th,e park.
    "You open it," I said, handing the envelope to Peter.
    He hesitated for a moment, then tore the envelope open and pulled out the pictures.
    His face fell.
    "What is it?" I asked.
    Without saying a word, he handed me the photos.
    My heart sank as I flipped through them. Peter had done a good job. The beams and timbers of the attic showed up perfectly. The focus and exposure were fine. But the force field with Ms. Schwartz in it had come out as nothing but a blue streak—
     
    that was all, just a blue streak down the middle of each picture. It looked like a flaw in the film, or maybe some trick of the light. You couldn't see Ms. Schwartz at all.
    "These aren't going to do us any good," I moaned.
    Peter nodded. "I'm sorry," he said.
    "It's not your fault," I replied. But I knew he didn't believe me.
    By Thursday the whole school seemed to be on the brink of nervous breakdowns. Stacy got caught drawing dirty pictures on the blackboard. Mike tried out a new word he had learned from his uncle, who was a sailor. And Peter waved his hand like crazy every time Broxholm/Smith asked a question.
    The ones who were really