Author's Note: Hey again! Welcome back to another chapter! Let's jump right in!
Chapter 06
It didn't take long for Grandpa Max to realize that the device, which they had dubbed "the watch", was not coming off by any means short of severing Ben's arm at the wrist. Needless to say, Ben was not keen on the idea. So, they had decided, he would have to keep it for now, until they could figure out what it was, and found someone who could help them get it off. For the remainder of the night of Ben's encounter with the watch, the hourglass remained red, and the glow was dull. That, Ben had assumed, meant that it was recharging. Exhausted from the nights events, he had fallen asleep.
By the time he had awoken, the watch was green again.
As Ben emerged from his tent, he noticed Grandpa Max was sitting in the cab of the R.V., with a phonebook in his lap, and his relic of a flip phone in the palm of his large, weathered hand. He once again wore his small, round glasses, and was muttering to himself as he read names and numbers aloud.
"Hey, Grandpa, watcha doin'?" Ben asked. Max winced.
"Oh-! Dangit," he said, looking up to Ben. "You made me lose my place. Listen, Ben, why don't you and Gwen spend some time together. Figure out if you can work the watch again. I gotta make some calls. Just- Don't go doing anything crazy like last night, OK? Stay close."
Ben grinned. He didn't need any more encouragement to go and play with his new, alien toy. He completely disregarded his Grandpa's mention of spending time with his cousin, who was sitting in a chair by the long-dead campfire, reading her book. A bottle of bug spray sat beside her foot. She barely raised an eye to watch him spring past into the nearby field, but her curiosity peaked as he heard a telltale beeping noise. Marking her place in the book with her History Fair first place ribbon, she hitched the tome beneath her arm, and folded up her chair, slinging it over her shoulder. Then, upon finding a suitable place, she unfolded the chair, and sat down, in the middle of the field, off to the side of Ben.
He squinted at her through the sun, which was in his eyes.
"What do you want?" He said. Gwen shrugged.
"Just to watch," she said.
Ben looked smug for a second, but then scoffed.
"Yeah, I bet," he said, returning to the serious stance he had been in prior to Gwen's arrival, with one foot forward and the watch-bearing arm out in front of him forming a horizontal right angle. It was dynamic in concept, but with his gangly, 12 year old body and lack of coordination, he looked pretted goofy pulling it off. He looked down at the watch, and without even touching the surface, the cylindrical button popped out, splicing the hourglass shape down the center and revealing a cloudy abyss of green. Then, that familiar silhouette of the fire alien appeared.
Ben brought the watch up to his eye, trying to get a good look at it. As he did, he accidentally applied some pressure with his fingers, causing the cylindrical button to rotate on its access. There was a clicking sensation that ran up and down Ben's forearm, and all of a sudden, the familiar, flaming shadow was replaced with something he had never seen before. It was lean and long, built like some kind of deinonychous raptor, with a long tail, and some kind of head spike. Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then a huge, toothy grin spread across his face.
That thing looked cool.
He turned to Gwen with a smug look on his face, and she quirked a brow skeptically.
"Check this out," he said, slamming his hand down on the button.
There was flash of green light, and when Gwen had blinked her vision back to normal, her cousin had vanished. In his place stood a tall, blue, humanoid creature, with a slightly stooped stature. Its face was long, with an aerodynamic black horn curving out and back on the crown of its head. It had wide, clawed feet, with powerful tendons like a horse or dinosaur, and a long, thick, sweeping tail, that was dominantly blue, but with black stripes. It had a face, and it was surprisingly human, save for its jarring yellow eyes, lack of a nose, and the strange, black chitin that seemed to rest on the side of its head.
Ben looked himself up and down.
"Woah… this guy's sick!" He said, his voice coming out in a hissing baritone.
"What does it do?" Gwen asked, pulling up her knees curiously.
Ben did a little circle as he looked himself up and down again, patting down his muscle groups. He realized, with a skikt! That he possessed dangerous, retractable black talons on his feet and hands. He also realized that when he flexed his cheek muscles, there was a strange sensation, almost like a hinge popping. As he continued to flex that muscle, there was suddenly a hissing noise, and his vision became slightly obscured by a chitinous black mask. Gwen made a somewhat impressed face.
"I wonder what that's for," Ben said, flexing again and retracting the mask.
"Does it fly?" Gwen asked, with an air of girlish curiosity in her voice. The blue alien that was her cousin squinted suspiciously at her, and she put up her hands to show innocence. "I don't know! Fighter pilots wears masks. It could be an altitude thing. Is it really that crazy?"
Ben, begrudgingly, realized that she was right. He tried hopping into the air, and found that, proportionately, he was no better jumper than he was as a human. He shrugged at Gwen, who shrugged back.
"Guess not," she said.
"Hmm…" Ben said, waggling his tail experimentally. "I betcha this guy has super combat senses or somethin'. He's got claws, a wicked tail, and some crazy leg muscles!"
The blue alien started kicking at the air, as if he were fighting in some over the top martial arts movie. He found, to his surprise, that he could easily maintain his balance, as well as the power of his kicks, without becoming quickly fatigued like he would have were he a human. So, it could kick. What was it, some kinda kangaroo thing?
"You said leg muscles?" Gwen said. Ben nodded. "Do you think its a runner?"
Something clicked in Ben's mind, and he grinned at her, showing a row of needle-y teeth, which made her a little grossed out. Luckily, they were quickly covered, as Ben closed the strange, shell-helmet with a quick, hissing sound. Then, he turned, dropping into a runner's lunge, and stretched out one leg, then the other, and then stayed down.
"Alright. I'm gonna go to the edge of the freeway and back," he said, pointing to the edge of the road..
Gwen followed his clawed finger. It was a long way. In his human form, Ben figured he could run there in back in a total of 5 minutes.
Something made him think he could beat that time with this blue alien's form.
"Ready?" Gwen said, sarcastically, enjoying her position as heckler and consultant. "Set?"
Beneath the mask, Ben rolled his eyes.
"Don't blink," he said, hoping that it sounded cool.
"Go!"
He was gone!
Ben's legs moved! He was suddenly flying across the wide open grass faster than he had ever ran in his life. He took long, leaping strides, given further propulsion by the thick, grip-granting claws that protruded from his feet. His steps came out at lightning speed, and altogether it made for an exhilarating rush. As he broke into a sprint, Ben felt like he had just found the meaning of like, his heart(s?) pumping like a hummingbirds. The grass flew by beneath him, the wind rushed past his face, and would have made him squint if he didn't have the chitinous mask closed over his face. So, Ben thought, it functioned sort of like goggles after all. Before he knew it, Ben had reached the edge of the road, and as he leaned down to tap it with a front claw, he was startled by a car driving right in front of him!
Just barely scraping a piece of gravel on the edge of the road, Ben turned on the spot, and, as fast as he had come, began to dash back the opposite direction. As his black and blue form went whizzing back across the green expanse of grass, Ben's fear of being seen, and its repercussions, sent him into overdrive. He had estimated that, as a human, it would have taken him 5 minutes to make the run to the road and back.
Ben had done it in 45 seconds.
The family in the minivan, who were jamming out to a sing-along playlist, had not even noticed the blink of blue and black, and Ben now skidded to a halt in front of Gwen, his claws literally digging into the dirt and kicking up grass and soil as the forced his extreme velocity to come to a jagged halt. He wobbled a little, and realized as he kicked his tail out reflexively, that it was probably used for balance. Once he had stopped, he turned to Gwen, retracting the mask, and giving her a cocky, needle-toothed grin once more.
"Looks like you were right," he said. "This guy can run!"
"Told you so," Gwen said, though she was clearly impressed by the ridiculous speed at which Ben had moved. The boy hopped from foot to foot, giddy from the mach speed sprint, and ready for more.
"What should I do next? Freeway again? Should I lap the whole field? Oh, man, should I, like, run to the nearest town?"
"No!" Gwen said, "that's an awful idea!"
Ben paused. She was probably right. Grandpa had warned him not to do anything crazy, and to stay close to the camp. Plus, he had seen what happened to aliens when the government guys find them in the movies. He didn't want to get his hand chopped off, and he really didn't want to get probed.
"You're probably right," he said.
"Again," Gwen said.
Ben grumbled. She made it so easy to let her be right.
"I should really give these guys names," he said.
Gwen snorted. Ben ignored her.
"I already got a good one for that fiery alien. I'll call him Heatblast! Now, as for this guy…" He put a clawed finger up to his chin in thought. Gwen quirked her eyebrow. With the preceding name being "Heatblast", it was hard for her to picture the next one requiring so much contemplation. Eventually, the alien that was Ben put up a finger, signifying that he had come up with a winning idea. "XLR8!"
Gwen opened her mouth to say something, and then stopped herself, as she digested what he had said.
"I-... That's… Actually pretty clever, Ben," she said. "Like accelerate, right?"
"Jokes aren't funny when you explain them," Ben said, lifting his chin haughtily. Inside, however, he was proud of himself for impressing his cousin. It was a pride that made him feel complicated emotions; something that he, a 12 year old boy, was not accustomed to.
"Don't be such a jerk, that was a compliment!" Gwen said, not picking up in the subtler soft side of Ben, particularly not through the stoic visage of his alien form.
"Whatever," he said, "why don't you read your stupid book and let me do the alien stuff."
"Dude! What happened to me being right?" Gwen said. "You're such a turd!"
"You're a turd," was Ben's weak counter.
"Ugh. Spider-dweeb!"
"Teacher's pet!"
"Delinquent!"
There was a low, droning noise, and the green hourglass embedded in Ben's chest began to blink red, but he was so involved in his battle of jeers that he didn't pay it any heed.
"What does that mean? Nerd, even your insults are nerdy!"
"Delinquent is not a hard word, you imbecile," Gwen said.
There was a flash of green light.
"Hey, that one I know! You're the imbecile!" Ben said, stomping over to Gwen now that he had returned to his human form. "Don't make me give you a wet willy!"
"Ew, gross, get away!" Gwen squealed, picking up her book and jumping out of her chair.
Ben dashed towards her, but with a rush of dysphoria, realized that he no longer possessed superhuman speed, and as she sprinted away from him, he was easily left in the dust. He gave chase anyway, his pride wounded, and their encounter led them to the entrance of the R.V., where Max was in the middle of a phone call.
"- Uh, yeah. Yes. Just- Just tell them I'm looking for Phil Billings," the old man said. There was a pause. "He'll know me. Yes! Sure, I'll hold…"
As dull, tinny music began to play from his phone's poor quality speakers, Max groaned and pulled it away from his face, placing is on speaker and dropping it on the dashboard. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his face. He had made several calls, trying to get into contact with someone, anyone, that might have some information on what they were dealing with. While he knew more about the situation than he led on, he knew far less than he would like, and it was beginning to wear on him. This was a world he had thought he had left behind.
"Grandpa! Ben said he was gonna give me a wet willy!" Came Gwen's voice, as she suddenly came running into view of the R.V. Ben was close on her tail.
"That's because she called me an imbecile and a delinguist!" Ben said.
"Delinquent," Gwen corrected to him.
Max sighed.
"Hey, hey, enough, you two!" He said, as the corny music continued to play. "Now, I'm sick and tired of the two of you arguing! You're family,.for crying out loud. One day, you're gonna run out of people to turn to, and you'll need to have each other's backs."
The two kids fell silent at Max's sudden strict mentorship. He shook his head.
"Look, kids, this entire situation is really stressing me out, and I would appreciate it if you would just-"
"Hello? Hello? Max?" Came a voice. The music, Max suddenly realized, had stopped, and had been replaced with somebody calling his name. Despite being warped by his awful phone service, and the confines of his speaker, the tone carried a tone that was familiar to Max, and sent a chill of nostalgia up his spine. "Tennyson?"
Max snatched up the communication device. He looked at it for a long moment, listening to the static-y breathing, before he steeled himself, and turned the phone off of speaker, bringing it up to his ear to speak into it.
"Hey, Phil," he said, "I could really use a favor."
For the rest of the day, Ben continued to try out new alien forms, slowly familiarizing himself with the basics of what they could do, and giving them each names. He didn't make it through all of them, due to the time constraint of the recharge function. After Max had finished his phone call, he had informed them that they would be leaving the next day, and making a bee line for their destination. Apparently, his old friend Phil was some kind of scientist, and was working at a base near Mount Rushmore. Max had assured them that, if anybody would know something about all of this, it was him.
So, Ben took advantage of the time remaining to him. However, as he became more comfortable with the operation and understanding of the watch, he was unaware of prying eyes from the woods nearby.
Perched high in the branches of a boughy evergreen was a man clad in crimson body armor. He wore a helmet that was heavily stylized to resemble the demonic masks that Japanese samurai wore, and at his belt were two strange, metal devices; they looked like the hilts of swords, however, no blades were present. With one hand he held the trunk of the tree to balance himself, and with the other, he held a pair of binoculars up to the viewport of his helmet.
He was watching Ben. The boy had taken on the form of some kind of four-armed behemoth, with muscular limbs, a double set of yellow eyes that glowed faintly, and bristly hair covering his body. He had clearly found that the alien form possessed immense strength, and as the silent red stranger watched, the youth stooped down, finding purchase on the big, rusty mobile home and, with a heave, lifting the entire R.V. up above his head. There was faint screaming, and the alien quickly brought the R.V. back down.
"Childish," the spy muttered.
A fraction of a second later, an old man came out of the vehicle, shouting at the alien, who, despite towering over the elderly man, flinched. The spy focused his binoculars on the chubby old man and his floral shirt, and realized, with only mild surprise, where he had remembered him from.
Satisfied, he stowed his binoculars, and pressed a button on his wrist, opening up a communications channel.
"Lord Driscoll," he said. "I've made an interesting discovery."