“No,” Sandy replied. “I mean that some of them already have.” He looked around, nodded his head, and suddenly, we weren’t in the Eagle Nebula’s neighborhood anymore.
Tim and I both stared. We were in a solar system, and we could see a sun. There were a lot of planets and other celestial bodies. But none of them looked remotely familiar. Not even the large, green planet we appeared to be orbiting.
“Where are we?” Tim asked.
“On the other side of our home,” Sandy replied.
Looked around. “I don’t see the nebula, or anything that looks familiar. Are we on the other side of the galaxy?”
Sandy chuckled and waved his hand in a circular motion and the ship turned, not like we’d been spinning before, but more like one of those “moving restaurants”—really slowly.
“Oh,” Tim and I said in unison. The Eagle Nebula was, essentially, behind this solar system.
“Yes,” Sandy said. “This solar system is the closest one to us.”
“Problems in the neighborhood and who you gonna call? Problem Busters.”
“In essence,” Sandy said, with a smile, which I hoped indicated good things. “We need someone to intervene here. Someone with no, I believe you would say, skin in the game.”
“I would, but I have no idea how you picked that phrase up.”
“I wandered Earth for quite a while. It was most interesting.”
“While that’s all great, why are we here?” Tim asked. “Is this where Mother was heading?”
“No, it is not. It is, however, someplace you need to go first.”
“Why do we need to do that?” Wondered what we were going to tell the others. Perhaps it was time to panic after all.
“Because if you truly want to save the galaxy, you have to save all of it.”
“Is now really the time to be inscrutable?” Tim asked. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Sandy said calmly. “However, you have someone on board who was not supposed to leave Earth.”
“ACE. He’s inside my daughter and none of us were supposed to be on this flight anyhow. You wanted him noninterfering. He didn’t interfere, that’s why we’re all somehow stranded in space. Though, now we’re stranded in a part of space we don’t know. On top of everything else.”
“Some on board know where this is,” Sandy replied.
“We’re on the back side of the Eagle Nebula’s territory,” Tim said. “Get with the space program, Kitty.”
“Nice to see you keeping it light. I’m not exactly familiar with this section of the galaxy, call me an astronomy quitter. Besides, I’m still back on ‘what happens to ACE and my daughter,’ call me a worrywart and all that.”
“Concessions will be made . . . if the situation in this solar system is . . . rectified.”
“Why so?” Tim asked flatly.
“Because,” Sandy sighed, “Grumpy and Dopey are fighting for control of this solar system, and if they destroy this star, it will destroy the nebula, and without the nebula, there will not be any more stars that can form.”
“Per our scientists and astronomers, the nebula’s not really here anymore, we’re just seeing the memory of the light.”
“Your scientists and astronomers are, as happens frequently with younger, inexperienced races, wrong.” Sandy nodded his head and suddenly we weren’t in the solar system anymore. We were inside the nebula. And it looked very real, very alive, and not remotely like a memory.
“It’s beautiful,” Tim said quietly.
It was. Pillars of the same kind of thick fog that wasn’t fog—what Sandy had been before he’d entered the ship—flowed like steam, only not randomly but with what seemed like purpose. All the colors of the rainbow and colors I couldn’t identify as well were within the fog. And light. Lots and lots of light. Moving light.
“It looks like the light is . . . boiling.”
“It is. This is how stars are formed. By us and by the others who reside in nebulas as we do. We are the creators.”
“But not the only ones.”
“No, not the only ones. We are the builders.”
“Of life?” Tim asked.
“No, not of life. Of the galaxies, the systems. The rocks, to all of you. Builder is not quite the right word, though.”
“The architects?” Hey, I was trying to be supportive. Besides, this was gorgeous.
“Yes, that is the correct word. As one solar system dies, we create a new one, so that life will go on. We do not people the planets—that is not our way. But we do create the suns and, therefore, the systems. Otherwise, we are not to interfere.”
“Go team.” Really hoped some of the others were seeing this. And not panicking. “Um, what are the others seeing?”
“The same as you. All will need to understand what they need to do.”
“What is it that we all need to do?” Tim asked.
“Stop the destruction of this solar system so that we can continue to create. The nebulas are connected to each other. Not as a human could or would understand it. But we are interconnected. If one nebula dies, normally another would be ready to take its place. But this is not the right time, or the right way, for our nebula to die, and so, if we go prematurely and in this fashion, then the rest of the nebulas will all wither and no new suns will ever be created in this galaxy again.”
Tim and I both let that one sit on the air for a few long moments. “Um, that sounds bad.” And familiar, in its own way. Per Algar, all the black holes out there were connected in some way to the Black Hole Universe. Wondered if the Nebula Network was the same. Figured it probably was and wasn’t at the same time. Decided it didn’t matter.
“It would be very bad, yes.” Sandy also had a sarcasm knob, though he was probably only at around five on the scale.
“What is it we need to do?” Tim asked.
Sandy shrugged and we were back in orbit around the very green planet. “You need to stop a mad scientist from creating the destruction of the galaxy.”
And with that, he turned back into thick fog and dissipated.
CHAPTER 27
“JEFF’S RIGHT,” Tim said. “It never ends.”
“And it’s also never easy. I hope you’re not shocked.”
“No. I’m trying hard to figure out how we find a mad scientist on a world we’ve never been to, let alone stop him or her from destroying the galaxy.”
“That seems to be the order of the day, doesn’t it? I mean, supposedly we’re heading to Ixtha to also save the galaxy.”
“We need a theme song. Something like ‘da da, da daaaa, Galaxy Defenders!’ or similar.”
“You’re starting to worry me. I mean, you’re not wrong. Just worrying me. And now I want to hear music. Of some kind. Any kind, really.”
Tim shrugged. “Turn on your phone. I’m not anti-tunes, you know.”
“Think it’ll bother the others?”
“More or less than us sharing the latest news will?”
“Good point.” Pulled my phone out of my purse, opened up my music, and looked at my playlists. Sure enough, there was a Space Travel playlist that I had definitely not created. Hit play, turned the volume up, and dropped my phone back in my purse. As the sounds of “Space Boy” by Splender filled my ears, idly noted that I saw no Poofs on Board. Felt sad. “No Poofies?”