Chapter 6:
"Raliens? Rhere?" Scooby asked, alarmed.
"The Coolsville Communications Center's real purpose is exactly that," Mr. Mangetout explained. "When aliens from across the galaxy wish to contact Earth for any reason, they either send a message or come in person to our center. The trouble is, sometimes they are willing to work with us and with other alien races… and sometimes they aren't. I need you kids to search the facility for clues and alert us to any signs of foul play."
"How… serious of foul play are we talking about?" Daphne asked nervously.
Mr. Mangetout sighed. "All of that depends. Sometimes it's as simple as trying to smuggle illegal substances into the center- yes, there are some things that have been universally outlawed across the galaxy. You'll become more familiar with these substances after you read the manual." He passed out a rather large paperback book to each of them.
Someone walked in and tapped Mr. Mangetout. The gang almost gasped, but tried hard to be polite after realizing that, although mostly humanoid, the person was only three feet tall, with electric-blue skin.
"This is Mr. Yax Fizlayer," Mr. Mangetout introduced. "He's going to show you around this facility and get you accustomed to the layout. He's also going to share with you a major mystery we've been working on for years. As for me, I'm needed in Conference Room J, so while it's been great talking to you, I must be going."
As Mr. Mangetout left, Mr. Fizlayer bowed deeply. "I have been told of the great mysteries you have solved on your own planet. Perhaps you can help us with ours."
"Like, what kind of mystery are you talking about?" Shaggy inquired.
"I was going to show you shortly after giving you a tour. But as you seem so enthusiastic, I can give you the tour later."
The blue man walked out of the room, indicating the gang should follow. He led them down a narrow hallway and to an elevator. He pushed the down button.
After taking the elevator down twenty-eight stories- Velma was counting- they exited into a huge, black room. There were no lights in there at all, save for that emitted from a strange orb that hovered in the middle of the room. The orb was bright green and roughly the size of a soccer ball. The gang felt entranced.
"This," Mr. Fizlayer told them, "is the Fizlayen Orb of Power. It is typically kept in the possession of the Fizlayen Royal Family, who share the last name of the planet."
"Does that mean you're…?" Freddie asked, amazed.
"I am." Mr. Fizlayer nodded. "But that's not important now. See, the Fizlayen sun burned out centuries ago. We were terrified, and thought ourselves doomed. But this device pumps out enough energy every second to match what a star would in a year. Through extremely powerful batteries produced from this device's energy, we can actually heat our planet properly and give proper electromagnetic energy to our crops."
"Jinkies," Velma asked. "Is this a-?"
"It is a perpetual energy generator, yes."
"But it can't just make energy come out of nowhere," Velma told him, stunned. "It's impossible."
"Very, very complicated," Mr. Fizlayer told her, "but never impossible."
"But if it's so important to your planet," Daphne asked, "why is it here on Earth?"
"Originally," Mr. Fizlayer told her, "it was on Fizlayer. That was much easier than having to transport batteries there from Earth. But then we went to war with our enemies, the Physhuns. They launched some of their strongest weapons on it to cut off our power supply. Luckily they missed, but I realized that the safest thing would be to relocate the Orb until the war was over. That hasn't happened yet. But I'm concerned that attempts are being made to steal the Orb even as we speak."
"Are… are the Physhuns here?" Shaggy asked, frightened.
"They are not," Mr. Fizlayer informed him. "The Physhuns may be fierce, but they are primitive in that they have not established contact with Earth nor (with the exception of Fizlayer) with any other planet outside their solar system. We have received threat letters from a race which calls themselves the Veqs, but neither us nor Earth nor any other planet with CCC contact has ever encountered one. But we have every reason to suspect they may have it in them to desire the destruction of my people."
A very sad, wise look crossed his face. Mr. Fizlayer was clearly determined to save his planet, but he seemed fearful, as though he had given up hope. Suddenly, he lost that look and stood up straight.
"Well, I guess that's enough of that. Let me show you the rest of our facility, then I'll scan your eyes and you can go."
The center, interesting though it was, was enormous, and by the end of the tour the gang was just a little tired of walking and just a little worried that tomorrow they still wouldn't remember their way around. Thus, it was a relief when Mr. Fizlayer led them into a small room and instructed Velma to remove her glasses.
"Now, this will be simple, just place your head here…" Mr. Fizlayer instructed. He was about to flip a switch when he stopped himself.
"Actually, I forgot… policy here dictates that before using any of this equipment in here, employees must be inquired about any health conditions they may have. So do you have any injuries, diseases, disabilities, allergies…?" he asked Velma.
"Besides the glasses and my asthma… nothing. Why? Is it… harmful?"
"No, not usually to Homo sapiens… just that a lot of other equipment is kept in here that could potentially be, so standard procedure is to ask before using anything. Do any of the rest of you have any health conditions I should be aware of?"
"Like, besides a food addiction?" Shaggy asked. Velma rolled her eyes. Mr. Fizlayer clearly did not get the joke.
"Is it… possible for your species to develop a chemical dependency on nourishment?"
"No, Shaggy's just fooling around," Freddie told him.
"Oh, well in that case, besides a food addiction…"
Everybody looked at Daphne. This was embarrassing, but she stepped forward.
"I'm… I'm pregnant…"
Mr. Fizlayer frowned. "It is a good thing I have been informed, then. Some of the radiation that flows from this machinery can cause birth defects in humans. It wasn't designed by Earthlings nor by Homo sapiens, and neither did they construct it. We can issue you a remote, and you can use a code to enter instead. Just try to conceal the remote; we like to keep the number issued to a minimum, to avoid the possibility of unauthorized personnel using it to break in. I'll have to ask you to wait outside while the others are scanned; as long as we close the door you won't be exposed…"
"Okay," Daphne told him softly, then went out to wait in the hall. Somehow, she felt lonelier than she had in a long time…
A/N: There. See? This is why I labeled it sci-fi. It just wouldn't be a Scooby-Doo fanfic without something atypical (at least, when the story is this long one feels like one should include something supernatural), and I like aliens better than ghosts (not that I know any!). I hope somebody catches my shout-out to "sublevel twenty-eight."