Chapter 2
Six hundred miles above Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth:
In the crushing silence of space, hovering ominously over the blue planet there was a single massive spaceship, cloaked and still, invisible to the eyes of the Earth satellites.
It was time.
From a docking bay at the bottom of the ship there emerged several more ships, all shaped like flat disks with several thick rings surrounding a center circle, each one fading into the stars as its cloaking device kicked in, as it left the ship and began its descent into Earth's atmosphere.
As the ships moved in, one of the ship's cloaks flickered for a moment, and then returned to normal. Upon entering the lower atmosphere, the ships slowed their downward descent, and then broke ranks and started off in different directions. The flickering ship's cloak glitched again for a moment, and then it returned to normal as the ship started to move East across the United States.
Starfleet Headquarters, Communications Division:
Lieutenant Carl Henson ran a hand through his curly red hair and frowned at his console. Had his eyes betrayed him, or had he just seen a flicker of activity over the Bay?
"Commander Broom," he called, staring at the spot where he'd seen the flicker.
Commander Broom stepped over, her long, brown hair swaying from side to side as she did so.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" she asked.
Henson blinked. It was late, and he was tired. "Ah…" he began, hesitantly, "…never mind."
That evening at the Riverside Police Station, chaos reigned supreme. It was the only station within twenty miles of the farms in the surrounding area, making it the only place for people to take their problems—missing cows, abusive spouses, vandalism, the works.
That was the nice thing about Riverside, reflected Sheriff Luciana Kaddington. It was ordinary. Nothing strange ever happened there. Except tonight.
Kaddington was sitting in her office, pinching the bridge of her nose as she picked up the tenth call transferred to her desk that evening.
Outside, the station was a flurry of activity—Phones ringing off the hook, voices shouting, and the few officers manning the station running in and out of the transporter to check on the farms out in the middle of nowhere.
"Sheriff?" slurred the familiar voice of Quinn, a paranoid drunk who was constantly calling the police on false alarms. Quinn's image flashed up onto the communications screen.
Kaddington sighed heavily, her lips thinning. "What is it, Quinn?" she asked, wearily.
"It's the goddamn animals actin' all spooked again. They're actin' like it's gonna be an earthquake or somethin' of the sort…I dunno," Quinn mumbled, scratching his ear.
"Quinn, if you don't have an actual emergency, then don't waste my time!" Kaddington snarled at him. She was in no mood to deal with Quinn's idiocy.
"S'not just me, Luce," he answered, taking a swig of some electric blue liquid out of a bottle, his gray, bloodshot eyes staring fuzzily at a point somewhere off the screen, "Weird shit's happenin'."
"Weird shit's always happening to you."
"Yeah? What's all this stuff I keep hearin' 'bout weird red lights poppin' up all over the place?"
Kaddington glared at him. Having no explanation for him, she changed the subject.
"That had better not be what I think it is, Quinn," she growled, "You know it's illegal."
Quinn blinked in confusion. "What, this?" he slurred, "S'kool aid."
At that moment, the door to Kaddington's office swung open and her deputy, Charles Riley, a ginger-haired man in his mid-twenties, entered, holding a PADD in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other.
"Here," he said in a London accent, handing her the coffee, "That's regular. We're in for a long night. Commander Christopher Pike is on the line for you, ma'am."
"Thanks, Charlie," Kaddington said, grateful for an excuse to get off the line with Quinn.
"Juss' kool aid, I swear," Quinn was mumbling as she switched off his screen and brought up an image of a man in his mid-thirties with short, light brown hair and pale blue eyes, wearing a black Starfleet uniform.
"Commander Pike," Kaddington said, pushing a stray lock of her own dark hair behind her ear, "What can I do for you?"
Pike sent her a grim smile. "I'm sure you're a bit swamped right now, but something's going down here at the shipyard. I was wondering if you could come over and take a look."
"Your scientists can't explain it?" she questioned, jokingly, raising her eyebrows.
Pike glanced down, then back up at Kaddington's eyes. "Not yet," he said, "But since the shipyard's only a few miles from the town, I figure you have a right to know."
Kaddington smile faded as she stared at him. "A right to know what, Pike?" she demanded.
He glanced around, warily. "Just come over," he said, "I'll show you."
"Listen, I'm already busy!" she protested, "People have been reporting more weird stuff than I can handle tonight as it is; spooked animals, drunk hallucinations, more than just the usual crap, and over half of it still needs to be verified—"
Pike interrupted her. "Something punched a hole in one of the shuttles, Luce."
Kaddington stopped, blinking. "Something…" she repeated.
"Like it was made of paper," he said, nodding slightly.
Kaddington let this process in her mind for a few moments before rising from her seat and nodding. "Be right there," she said, calmly, snatching her jacket off the coat rack in the corner and heading out of her office for the transporters.
Riverside Shipyard, 10:45 p.m.
Sheriff Kaddington shuddered slightly in the nighttime October chill as she stepped out of the transporter into the outside area of the Riverside Shipyard, where Commander Pike stood waiting for her, his "business-as-usual" grimace on his face.
"Luce," he said, nodding shortly.
"Pike," she replied. "Where's the shuttle?"
"Follow me," he told her, starting off in the direction of the shuttles.
Kaddington followed him, frowning. "I sense there's more to this than your precious spacecraft," she said.
"Before I tell you anything, you should know that this is very sensitive information," he said, "so it would be wise to not tell anyone else."
"Cut to the chase," she countered, irritably, "I get the top secret crap, now tell me what's been going on."
Pike took a deep, patient breath. "One week ago, crop circles began to appear in areas of concentrated Starfleet activity," he began, "San Francisco, Moscow, Marseille, Nairobi. People began to notice strange things happening."
Kaddington folded her arms as they turned a corner.
"What kinds of things?" she asked, skeptically.
"Just…strange things," Pike replied, vaguely. "Nothing specific, but things that are out of the ordinary. Damaged crops. Disappearing electrical signals. Shadows in the night."
Kaddington raised her eyebrows. " 'Shadows in the night'," she said, flatly.
Pike grimaced. "Suspend your disbelief for a moment and think about it, Luce. This might not be a coincidence."
"Oh yes, 'crop circles', and 'shadows in the night'," Kaddington mimicked, "And you think this might be happening to little Riverside as well?"
"Well, Riverside is an area with a high population of Starfleet personnel," Pike replied, calmly.
Kaddington rolled her eyes. "I think you're paranoid," she said, bluntly.
"Then how do you explain this?"
Pike stopped in front of a patch of ground that had been roped off with caution tape, where there sat a standard-issue Starfleet shuttle, the usual gunmetal gray color and boxy shape…but on the side, in the center, there was a hole about the size of a watermelon, as if a cannon had been fired at it.
Kaddington stared at the shuttle in silence for a moment before concluding, shortly, "It's a prank."
Pike stared at her. "A prank," he repeated.
She nodded, curtly. "A prank." She turned to him. "Some anarchy group or some stupid teenagers are trying to inspire fear in Starfleet by making crop circles and punching holes in shuttles near Starfleet concentrated areas."
Pike looked between Kaddington and the shuttle in disbelief. "How?" he questioned.
Kaddington snorted. "Come on, Pike, making a crop circle isn't exactly hard to do—kids were doing it in the twentieth century, for crying out loud."
"What about the shuttle?" Pike asked. "The titanium alloy used in the shuttle hull is made to be impervious to meteor showers. What teenager has the technology to punch a hole through that? How could they have done it?"
Kaddington seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before answering: "…I…somehow, okay?" she snapped, irritably, "I don't know! They just did. It's a prank."
Pike frowned at her. "Luce, I don't think it is. We've had our analysts run the numbers, and there is an unusually high number of crop circles close to Starfleet installations."
"Well I do. And don't forget—I'm in charge of the Riverside investigation, Pike," she said, curtly. "Besides, it's not like we've found any crop circles here."
The two of them stared at one another, each one waiting for the other to speak. A few tense moments passed, then—
"Sherriff! Commander Pike!"
Pike and Kaddington turned at the sound of Deputy Riley's London accent, atypical for the cornfields of Iowa.
"It's Farmer Barrett, ma'am," Riley said, "he's just called in—he wants to file a complaint against some of the local teenagers. Says they've mowed down part of his cornfield."
Pike and Kaddington exchanged glances.
Pike gave Kaddington a meaningful look and said, "Well, Luce, looks like we've got a cornfield to investigate."
Kaddington's lips thinned. "I guess so," she shot back.
She then turned to Riley and started back towards the exit.
Pike stared at her as she did so.
"I guess so," he repeated, to no one in particular.
Saturday dawned bright and chilly, with a fresh downpour of warmly colored leaves into the streets of Riverside.
First thing after breakfast (leftover pizza for Jim, grits and eggs for Len, rice and fish for Hikaru and porridge for Scotty) the four boys met up at the edge of the woods for a second round of Spaceship, Hikaru showing up a little later than expected because he'd had to help his mother rake the lawn. He promised to make up for this by hosting an Olympic leaf-pile diving contest later that day at his house, with hot chocolate for the victors.
" 'Kay then, lads," Scotty said, eagerly, "How're we dividing the teams?"
"Whatever way it happens, Hikaru does not get to be captain," Len announced, laughing slightly as he shuffled his feet in the dry leaves.
"Whaaaat?" Hikaru demanded, "Why not?"
" 'Cause you're terrible at it."
"Like you'd be any better."
Len rolled his eyes. "That's because I'm the CMO. I don't lead people, I save them. Come on, Jim, back me up here."
All three boys turned to Jim, who was scrutinizing the branches of the trees above, not responding.
"Jim," Len repeated, poking him in the arm.
"What?" Jim asked, suddenly looking back at them.
"Back me up—Hikaru can't be captain 'cause he's awful at it."
"I can be captain if I like—" Hikaru protested, crossing his arms.
"Actually," Jim interrupted, "I think we should look for that thing I heard yesterday."
"What thing?" Hikaru and Scotty asked in unison.
Len gave a huge sigh, rolling his dark eyes at the sky. "The thing that was either some kind of animal or Scotty's mom."
"Oh, thanks Len," Scotty said, annoyed.
"It wasn't just an animal!" Jim insisted. "It was something else."
"Like what?" questioned Hikaru, his black eyes lighting up in excitement.
"Some kinda monster?" Scotty asked, his eyebrows raised.
Len scoffed, crossing his arms and turning away. As usual, Hikaru and Scotty were getting sucked into one of Jim's harebrained schemes, and in their club it was always a majority-rule, where Jim, Hikaru and Scotty usually won.
Jim had them reeled in now. He grinned, nodding furiously. "Yeah!" he said, enthusiastically, "Like a…a…like a chupacabra, or something!"
"What the heck is a chupacabra?" asked Scotty.
"It's a monster that eats goats," Jim said.
"Oh, ye mean like a banshee!" Scotty volunteered.
"Or an oni," Hikaru added.
"Sort of," Jim said, "only a chupacabra eats goats."
"Oh, for cryin' out loud, quit with the stupid chupacabra!" Len burst out, throwing up his arms, "Besides, that's only in Mexico and South America."
"And Central America," Hikaru added.
"I didn't say it was a chupacabra," Jim told Len, a wry smile on his face, "I said like a chupacabra."
"I want tae catch a chupacabra!" Scotty shrieked, punching the air in elation.
"All right!" Jim said, grinning, "Who wants to go on a monster hunt? All in favor say aye and raise your hand!"
Three hands shot up in almost perfect unison, accompanied by a chorus of ayes.
Jim, Hikaru and Scotty all turned to Len, who had not spoken.
"Len, ye don't want tae catch a monster?" Scotty asked, curiously, cocking his head to one side like a puppy.
Len shook his head fervently. "No," he said, flatly, "Tell you the truth, I'd rather play Spaceship."
Jim shrugged. "We can play Spaceship later, at Hikaru's house."
"Yeah," Hikaru spoke up, "There's some old theater knives in the dress up box you can use for your trak—trach…trakeymu…um…cutting people's windpipes open…thingy," he finished, lamely.
"Tracheotomy," Len corrected him, irritably, "I'm not going on any dumb monster hunt."
Scotty and Hikaru exchanged glances of anxiousness, both of them hoping that Len's words wouldn't result in a fight.
Jim looked at the leaf-strewn ground for a moment before meeting Len's eyes again. To everyone's surprise, he cracked a smile.
"Y'know, Len," he began, "We actually probably need a doctor to come with us on the monster hunt. Just in case somebody gets hurt."
"Dangit Jim, I'm a kid, not a doctor," Len sniped.
"Yeah…well…" Jim paused, looking away then back again, wearing a tiny smile, "…you're the closest thing we've got."
The following silence hit Len like a train. Of course, it was all pretend. There was no monster, he told himself as Jim, Hikaru and Scotty looked expectantly at him, so there was no risk.
But, said a voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Jim's, Jim thought it was in the trees, so they'll be climbing. There's a risk there…
Len bit his lip, avoiding his friends' eyes. He knew he would never be able to forgive himself if one of them got hurt without him there to help…
"Len?" Hikaru asked, concern creeping into his tone.
Len finally snapped. "All right, all right!" he relented, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "I'll come monster-hunting."
Jim's tiny, humble smile turned into a fully-fledged grin as Scotty and Hikaru cheered and did a victory dance behind him. Then he turned around and led them into the woods.
The monster hunt consumed a good two hours of the morning, during which the four boys scoured the whole of the small patch of woods, from the leaf-litter to the treetops (at least, as far as they could go before the branches got too thin), poking sticks into holes in the roots, hoping that a clawed hand would swipe out from below and prove that the monster was real.
Hikaru and Scotty started out the hunt with almost as much enthusiasm as Jim, but eventually they lost taste in the prospect of catching a monster and selling it to the circus, even if the money could pay for about seven or eight new hoverboards, according to Jim. Nearing the end of the two hours, both of them were in full goof-off mode, jumping out at each other, Jim and Len from behind trees, sword-fighting with sticks, and tickle-torturing each other.
Len, while reluctant to participate in the actual searching of Jim's fantastical creature, was greatly relieved he had decided to come along in case of injury.
He took the opportunity to perform three tracheotomies, to use his own scarf to wrap up a set of broken ribs, and to reattach many of Scotty's and Hikaru's limbs, which kept getting cut off during their sword fights.
Jim seemed to be the only one taking the monster hunt seriously. He went up every tree, looked in every hole, and poked between every root with such concentration that it seemed to Len that he was actually believed he'd heard a monster the day before.
He was the first one into the woods, and, by the time they'd finished, the last one out.
As they started off for Hikaru's house, Len caught him hanging back, frowning up into the trees, as if angry that the creature had evaded him.
He really does believe there's something there, Len thought, glancing between Hikaru and Scotty, and Jim.
"Jim," he called.
Jim turned around as if jolted out of a dream.
"Come on," he said, "Leaf-diving contests and hot chocolate await!"
The blond monster-hunter took one last glance at the trees, then nodded once and followed Len toward Farmer Barrett's cornfield.
"Len!" Hikaru called, from a good fifty feet away, "Can I take this off now?" He tugged at the navy blue scarf tied around his waist that was supporting his broken ribs.
"Yeah, it's healed," Len answered.
Hikaru then began an epic battle with the scarf's tight knots, trying to pry it loose as Scotty danced ahead of him, singing "Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer" at the top of his lungs.
Jim cracked up laughing at this sight, then promptly managed to get "Gopher Guts" stuck in his head, and started humming it absentmindedly.
Len looked up at the cloudy sky in silence, trying to pick out shapes as he walked. There's a great white shark, he thought, and a dragon, and a centaurian slug, and a yeti, and a werewolf and… He stopped abruptly, realizing that all he could see were monsters. He focused his attention on the cornfield ahead with a sigh.
"You really think there's a monster?" he asked then, looking over at Jim, who was turning in circles as they crossed the last patch of dirt before they reached the cornfield.
Jim kicked at a dry leaf, watching it skid ahead, then float back on the breeze. "I told you," he said, casually, "I heard something. It wasn't just some animal."
"But how do you know?" Len questioned, "How do you know it wasn't just a raccoon?"
"Well, for one thing raccoons are nocturnal."
"You know what I mean, Jim."
Jim's wry smile returned. "I've just got a gut feeling," was all he said.
They reached the cornfield.
Stepping between the tall stalks, the four boys entered a maze of vegetation, where the fastest way out was to walk as straight as you could and hope you made it to the other end without it turning out that you'd gone five-hundred yards out of the way.
Scotty and Hikaru had started in with a few seconds' head start, and were chatting contentedly.
"Havin' issues, laddie?" Scotty teased lightly, as Hikaru struggled with Len's scarf.
"No more than you do mentally," Hikaru answered, with a grin. "There. Finally." He pulled the scarf off and slung it over his shoulder.
"Hey, ken I have dinner at your place tonight?" Scotty asked, walking backwards between the corn stalks.
Hikaru raised his eyebrows. "Sure," he said, "if my mom's okay with it. Why?"
"Thanks. It's me mum. She's makin' haggis. Again."
Hikaru looked curiously at his redheaded friend. "What's haggis?"
Scotty grinned widely, and started to explain in graphic detail exactly what haggis was.
"Well," he began, brightly, "What it is, is ye take an sheep, an' ye cut it open. After s'dead, a'course. Then ye take out it's intestines, an' ye cook 'em stuffed with…what?" Scotty broke off, catching sight of Hikaru's disgusted expression.
Hikaru's mouth hung open in incredulity. "That's nasty!" he exclaimed, with a laugh.
"Well, it's no worse than eatin' raw fish," Scotty said, defensively. "Although it does get old after a bit," he admitted. Then: "What? Hikaru, it's just sheep guts!"
Hikaru had stopped in his tracks, wide-eyed, staring at a point over Scotty's shoulder.
"Turn around," he said, slowly, pointing to the redheaded boy's left.
Scotty turned. His jaw dropped.
It was the corn.
A large section of the corn about fifteen feet in width had been crushed.
Not cut. Not harvested. Not burned.
Crushed.
It's like standing in a hedge maze, Hikaru thought as he glanced left and then right, noticing that the flattened section of corn rounded off in both directions in what was probably a circle.
"That's bizarre," he said, blinking, "You think it's a Halloween prank?"
No response.
He looked over at Scotty, whose mouth was still hanging open.
"Scotty."
Scotty jumped as Hikaru nudged him in the ribs, hard.
But neither of them got the chance to say anything else before the familiar sounds of young-boy conversation sounded just behind them, and Jim and Len appeared out of the corn.
Both boys stopped in their tracks, eyes widening.
"What the—" Len began, staring at the crushed crops in amazement.
"What happened?" Hikaru demanded to no one in particular.
"It wasn't like this yesterday when I cut through here to go home," Len said.
"Somethin's jes not right about this, lads," Scotty added, glancing around like a skittish rabbit, "This is nae natural."
"Got that right," Len answered, "it's bizarre."
"I dinnae like this, lads. Not at all."
"How did it happen?"
Jim was silent as the others started to hypothesize possible answers to the mystery. His ice blue eyes were wide and fixed on the corn, his mind racing furiously.
This can't be a coincidence, he thought, a sudden thrill of shock jolting into his stomach.
Images of the monster hunt and the odd rustling in the trees and the corn the day before flashed through his head. It couldn't be a coincidence. It wasn't.
"Guys!" he suddenly spoke up, interrupting his friends' conversation.
Len, Hikaru and Scotty all looked over at Jim, whose eyes were shining with excitement.
"It's the monster!" Jim gasped. "It has to be!"
"Oh, will you quit with the stupid monster!" Len exploded, "Jim, get a clue—it doesn't exist! This is something entirely different. Not a monster."
"How do you know?" Jim questioned, glaring defiantly at Len. "How do you know it's not a monster?"
"How do you know it is one?"
They were almost nose to nose now, their faces set in anger.
Hikaru and Scotty exchanged nervous glances as silence fell over them. In their group, there were certain rules about fights. One, you didn't bite. ("Because if you draw blood, you hafta get a tetanus shot, which hurts a lot," Len had informed them one sunny, summer afternoon). Two, you had to make up after a maximum of three weeks. And three, quite possibly the most important one: When Jim and Len were the ones arguing, you didn't get involved. No matter what.
"It's a monster," Jim said, very slowly and deliberately.
"It's not," Len shot back.
"What else could do that? Huh? What else could flatten all that corn in one night—"
"Oh, grow up, Jim! Monsters aren't real!"
"This one is!"
But before either of them could get another word in, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, coming in their direction. Coming fast.
Three people appeared from around the corner: a severe-looking, dark-haired woman in a sheriff's uniform, and two men, one ginger-haired and dressed similarly to the sheriff, and the other in a black Starfleet uniform with short, light brown hair and pale green eyes.
"What are you four doing here?" the woman demanded of them, harshly.
All at once, all thoughts of argument were driven from the boys minds. They stared blankly at the adults in front of them, new ideas now occupying the space where anger and worry had been moments before.
Cops, Jim thought, the cops are here. In the cornfield. Where the crops got flattened. This is big.
"Well?" the woman prompted.
"We're just—we're—" Hikaru stuttered.
"Cutting through the cornfield," Jim finished.
"Taking a shortcut," Len added.
The woman scrutinized them, her eyes narrowing.
"Seeing how nicely your little prank worked out?" she hissed.
"Prank?" Jim repeated, incredulously. She thinks we did this?
The women's male cohorts stared at her in surprise.
"Luce, they're just kids," the one in the Starfleet uniform said, softly.
The severe woman seemed to struggle with herself for a moment and then deflated, sighing deeply. "I know, I know…Christ, I need to get some sleep…" she turned away, staring up at the patchy sky as the four boys exchanged confused glances.
"They couldn't possibly have done this, ma'am," said the ginger-haired man in a London accent, "Not in one night. No one that small could, without proper equipment."
Jim looked sharply at Len, an "I told you so" expression on his face. Len could only blink and stare.
The man in the Starfleet uniform turned to the boys with a sympathetic expression. "Go on," he said, wearily, "But don't cut through here anymore, okay?"
The boys nodded hastily. Hikaru and Scotty took off like frightened rabbits back they way they'd come, and Len began to follow them before noticing that Jim hadn't moved.
"Jim," he said, "Come on."
Jim didn't budge. Instead, he stared up at the man in the Starfleet uniform with an expression that somehow encompassed shock, hurt and curiosity all in one.
"What happened?" he asked, "Who d'you think did it?"
The man ran a hand through his light brown hair and sighed. "Well, son, we don't really know."
"It was a monster," Jim said, immediately.
"Jim," Len pleaded.
The man stared at Jim.
"It was a monster," Jim repeated, "I heard it in the woods yesterday."
"Pike!"
The man turned around, looking as if he wanted nothing more than to ask the boy about the telltale monster hiding out in the woods, to face the severe, dark-haired woman, who was how holding a cup of steaming coffee.
"Luce, I'll be just a sec," he said, beginning to turn back to the boy. "What's your name—"
But Jim was long gone.
Pike stared at the spot where the boy had been seconds before.
Did I just imagine that? he thought, blankly. It was possible. He'd spent the entire night wired on coffee, and was just now beginning to crash, as Sheriff Kaddington had a few minutes before. A monster?
It had to be the kid's imagination at work, he mused blinking.
Still…
He shook his head, hard, as if to clear it. They couldn't possibly have done this, ma'am, Deputy Riley's voice echoed in his mind, Not in one night. No one that small could…
"Pike!"
Pike turned to see Kaddington glowering at him behind a wisp of steam from her coffee, her shoulder-length hair hanging like a ratty curtain around her pale face, her sullen, gray eyes shadowed from a lack of sleep.
He managed to stifle an annoyed sigh, and started walking back toward her.
It was going to be a long day.
Jim and Len hurried back through the cornfield in silence, the only noise their footsteps and the gentle rush of the cornstalks as they brushed past them, and the soft whoosh of the October breeze tickling what remained of Farmer Barrett's crops.
It felt like an eternity before they emerged to meet Hikaru and Scotty on the other side, both wide-eyed and anxious.
Both of them started to speak at once, but Jim shook his head to silence them, thinking hard.
A few moments passed.
Len was the first one to speak. "…Say…it is a monster," he began, "Or something…not humanoid. Like that cop said. We should file a report, or something…shouldn't we?"
Jim shook his head. "I told that man," he said, quietly, "But he's not a police officer. He's Starfleet. He hasn't got any…what's the word? Starts with a 'j'."
"Jurisdictation?" Hikaru supplied.
"Exactly," Jim affirmed. "Over Riverside. And that woman who thought we did it…I don't think she believes us one bit." He looked up at his three friends. "But the fact that Starfleet's involved means this is big. Really big. So we can't just leave it alone."
"…So what do we do?" Len asked.
Jim looked at him, his ice-blue eyes determined.
"We'll find it ourselves," he announced, and started off up the road, the others following him without the slightest idea how they were going to do this, but with complete faith in who they knew in their hearts was their leader.
The rest of the morning was spent planning exactly how they would solve the mystery of the crop circle and catch the culprit—"Monster," Jim insisted—over hot chocolate and graham crackers at Hikaru's house, which eventually evolved into teriyaki chicken and rice for lunch.
The boys essentially took over Hikaru's kitchen, not allowing Hikaru's mother in (not a problem, as she was working in her office on another law project) or his sister Yumiko (a very large problem, because the four-year-old had a habit of getting involved in Hikaru's affairs, and hindering things).
As a result of this, no hard set plans were drawn up, and Hikaru was eventually ordered outside by his irritated mother when Yumiko started screaming at the top of her lungs that SHE WANTED TO PLAY TOO!
Disgruntled, the four boys had finished their lunch and retreated to the front yard, where the large pile of leaves on the damp grass began to look irresistibly inviting…
Four hours later, after Jim had won the title of Best Belly-Flopper and Scotty the title of Craziest Butt-Bouncer, Hikaru was called in for dinner.
Scotty, having been promised an escape from his fourth meal of haggis that week, went eagerly with him, and so Jim and Len left to go to the playground and, too tired to muster the energy for spaceship or tag, talked for an amount of time that was too short for either of them.
At sunset they parted, Len retreating to his ghost house, and Jim to his prison.