Free There's a Spaceship in My Tree! by Robert West Page B

white.
    â€œAch! The noise!” cried Beamer, holding his ears.
    â€œIt’s a massive energy stream!” Ghoulie shouted. “The suns in this binary system are so close together they’re stealing energy from each other.”
    The sound of static on their sensors was deafening. Beamer ran to an instrument panel and flipped the speakers off. He glanced over at the dark view port on the other side of the ship. “There goes the planet!” he yelled, seeing the tiny, distant flare of the exploding planet.
    A much brighter flash suddenly streaked past them, then another. The ship quaked each time, like they had suddenly dropped a few floors in an elevator. Beamer readjusted the view port displaying the two suns and then instinctively ducked as a blinding fireball skimmed across the screen. “Hey, haven’t you guys ever heard of water balloons?” he yelled at the two suns, which seemed to be hurling energy plumes at each other.
    â€œGet us out of here, Commander! Now!” ordered Scilla.
    Again the screens streaked into darkness. A few moments later the ship once more emerged into normal space. Or was it? The black velvet sky ahead of the ship was ablaze with stars — millions of them — rolled into a bright, raggedy ball.
    â€œWe’re right next door to a globular star cluster,” announced Ghoulie. They suddenly felt the ship shudder. “Now what?” groaned Ghoulie as he checked his sensors. “Shock waves, lots of them on all sides!”
    Another glance at the view ports made their situation clear. They were in the middle of a fleet of space ships.
    â€œIt’s a whole armada!” Ghoulie gasped. Checking his sensor screens again, he continued, “They’re using pre-hyperspace technology — traveling at sub-light speeds. We can easily outrun them.”
    â€œI’m just glad they don’t seem to be trigger happy. Hail them!” ordered Scilla.
    â€œI am,” answered Ghoulie. “All I’m getting is a recording and — surprise, surprise — they don’t speak our language.”
    One corner of Ghoulie’s mind made a note to paint a universal translator into the ship before their next trip.
    â€œSee if you can hack into their computer systems,” ordered Scilla.
    Moments later the view screen displayed a series of pictures like you’d see from surveillance cameras. Their gasp nearly sucked the air out of the ship. Rows and rows of what looked like transparent cigars, set on end, lined ten decks of a very large ship.
    â€œMagnify!” ordered Scilla.
    Beamer adjusted the view screens. Encased within those fat cylinders were bodies.
    â€œIt’s a ghost ship!” exclaimed Beamer.
    â€œYeah, as in bug ghosts,” gulped Ghoulie.
    The bodies, which seemed to be swimming in a cloudy yellowish mist, had large insect eyes, armored torsos and — exactly how many they couldn’t see — definitely more than two legs.
    â€œOops,” corrected Ghoulie. “Guess what? They’re alive.”
    â€œD’ya mean they’re asleep?” stammered Beamer.
    â€œYep, they’re all nighty-night in suspended animation,” added Ghoulie.
    â€œSo that’s why they’re not shooting at us,” said Scilla.
    â€œI’ve calculated their origin,” said Ghoulie as his hands skipped over the instruments. “They’re from the exploding planet. Left several months ago, I’d guess.”
    â€œRefugees, eh. Heading where?” asked Scilla.
    â€œToward the globular cluster,” answered Ghoulie. “At their present speed it’ll take them years to get there. We’ll probably be ghosts before they find a suitable planet.”
    â€œSomebody’s in for a major alien invasion if they choose one with indigenous, intelligent life forms,” muttered Scilla.
    â€œAt least they won’t be looking for an earth-type planet,” said