"Welcome aboard the Magnetotrain," boomed a harsh, gravelly voice where George might have expected to hear a gentle female one. "We will be traveling at a top speed of 300 miles per hour. Before we get underway, please turn off all portable electromagnetic devices, including electromagnets."

The moose boy looked over at Jenny, who was strapped into the next train seat over. "Why would anybody want to carry around an electromagnet?" he inquired.

"Orelob has a very weak magnetic field," the alien girl replied. "Visitors from other planets sometimes use magnets to replicate the strong fields they're accustomed to. Then there are the Narcissans, who use magnets to make themselves more attractive to the opposite sexes."

Before George had a chance to make an awful pun about having a "magnetic personality", the long, long train car lurched forward. The restraints held George and Sal in place, but they felt as if their stomachs had been left behind and were running to catch up. Soon the vehicle stopped accelerating and began to run smoothly, so much so that the kids almost believed that the train was standing still, and the city was speeding past them.

"Are we there yet?" Sal asked no one in particular.

"Yes, we are," replied her brother jokingly. "But the train doesn't stop here; you'll have to jump out and hit the ground running."

The bullet-shaped train sailed through the outskirts of Elci Kahaf, suspended above the rails by a powerful magnetic field. The inside of the vehicle reminded the Nordgrens of the Boston subways they had frequented in the old days, with advertisements in an alien language plastered on the sides of the ceiling.

"Hey, Jenny," said George, "you said this would be a two-day trip—but if we're going at 300 miles per hour, we should get there in one day."

"The train will make seven layovers," Jenny explained. Turning to Mr. Nordgren, she said seriously, "I suggest you and your family keep a low profile during the layovers."

"Keep a low profile?" said the moose man incredulously. "When we're the only humans on the whole planet?"

"You especially want to avoid trouble with the Thrags," Jenny warned him. "Even the good ones make The Terminator look like a girl scout."

"You know about The Terminator?" Sal marveled.

Jenny nodded. "When I was in college on the planet Kressida, I was part of an Earth Culture club. My friends and I would stay up all night watching Earth movies, listening to pop music, and drinking diet soda." She sighed wistfully. "Earthlings may be technologically backwards, but we can still learn a lot from them. Kressidan scientists are only now starting to realize the health benefits of saccharin."

"You may now move freely about the cabin," came the grating voice from the overhead speakers.

"Yay!" exclaimed Sal, ripping off her seat belt and shoulder harness. "I can do gymnastics!"

"I don't think that's what he meant by freely," said George, but his little sister was already cartwheeling down the aisle.

Abacus…abate…abattoir…

The words on the page were starting to form a blur, and Binky could scarcely remember why he was studying them.

"Telephone," said his mother, peeking into the bedroom. "It's your girlfriend, Binky Winkums."

He suddenly remembered why he was reading the dictionary. Taking the receiver, he lifted it nervously to his ear. "Uh, hi, Odette…er, Molly."

The rabbit girl's voice carried a hint of jealousy. "Expecting a call from the swan, were you?"

"No," said Binky sheepishly. "Odette's too weird for me. I was at her house yesterday, and all she could do was cry, and tell me about the crazy stuff that's happening to her body, and then cry some more."

"Yeah, girls are like that," said Molly semi-seriously. "When they hit puberty, watch out."

It's gonna happen to her, too, thought Binky warily. And she knows it.

"Are you still studying for the spelling bee?" Molly asked him. "If not, we'd love to have you over for pizza."

"Uh, sorry, I can't," was Binky's response. "I really want to win this one. Some other time, maybe."

"Okay," said Molly disappointedly. "I understand."

Binky swallowed as he hung up the phone. If I blow it at the spelling bee, she'll be on to me. I have no choice—I've got to keep my nose in the stupid dictionary.

As he struggled through the words starting with ac, another call came for him. "Hey, Binky, it's Buster," said his friend's voice over the phone.

"What's up?" he inquired.

"I want you to come over and meet my new baby sister," said Buster eagerly.

Buster…has a baby sister? Binky stammered mentally. When did this happen?

"Her name's Petula," said Buster, as if to explain. "My mom adopted her. She's the cutest thing."

Binky was about to accept the invitation, but a thought struck him. I can't let Molly think that Buster's new sister is more important to me than she is.

"Sorry," he said hesitantly. "I'm too busy studying for the spelling bee."

He heard a few seconds of silence on the line, followed by raucous laughter. He quickly hung up.

At Buster's condo, the rabbit boy couldn't stop himself from laughing. "What's so funny?" Fern wanted to know.

Buster, clutching his gut and doubling over, could hardly speak. "Binky…he's…he's studying…"

Fern gave him a peevish look. "That's a good thing," she stated.

"Yeah, it is," chuckled Buster. "But it's also…freakin'…funny."

While he laughed himself silly, his mother, Bitzi, was clothing baby Petula in a tiny pink dress. "What do you think of your new mommy, huh?" she gushed affectionately.

Fern gazed at the scene, and a wry smile formed on her lips. "You'll have to compete for your parents' attention now," she remarked to her boyfriend.

"Meh," said Buster with an indifferent shrug.

Bitzi withdrew an empty bottle of formula from Petula's mouth. "Little girl, you have the biggest appetite I've ever seen," she said playfully.

A chill of horror passed through Buster's heart. "Omigosh, she'll eat us out of house and home!" he began to rant. "I'll starve to death! What am I gonna do?"

"Call Alan," said Fern, handing him the phone receiver. "He's the last on your list."

Mrs. Powers received his call. "Hi, it's Buster," said the boy. "Is Alan around?"

To his surprise, the call was promptly disconnected.

Alan looked grimly at his mother, who had just slammed down the telephone and appeared to have eaten a storm cloud. "Who was that?" he asked.

Mrs. Powers glared at him with pain and anger. "I forbid you to talk to the Baxter boy ever again," she said decisively.

to be continued