Chapter 1

To a casual observer, the scene in the backyard of the Kratzensteins house in Hobart, Nebraska, population 1,119, may have looked like this: A skinny, teenage boy wearing an odd fur-covered hat sits on a branch of a large elm tree flinging hard objects, possibly rocks, at a girl standing on the ground below him. The girl, of the same apparent height and build as the boy, appears unaffected by the cascade of objects hammering her body. Which, of course, would be ridiculous. Nobody would wear a hat like that. Upon closer inspection the observer would see that the objects were indeed ordinary rocks, possibly picked from the gravel alleyway, and the hat, in fact, was nothing more than a thick and unruly head of hair.

Ouch. Really? No, not really, doofus. Try it again. Jack selected a pink, crystalline rock, a big one this time, forced his brain to think about Hawaii and a daily dose of Vitamin C, and hurled the rock at his sisters nose. They both watched as it hit, with all the force of a cotton ball, before dropping to the ground with a plop. Again. Madison. Just do it. Aim for my eye this time. And think about frozen yogurt topped with strawberries and cardiovascular exercise and Moms Thigh Master. No way. Mom would kill me if this was the time that worked. And she still has that stupid thing? Oh man. Jack floated down from his perched and emptied pebbles out of his pocket. Face it, Mads. Youre impervious. Or something. Madi rubbed her hip. Not to Dr. Boogers flu vaccine. I dont get it. Since returning from their excursion to ancient Greece, the Kratzenstein twins had been playing with their new powers. Jack learned to fly upside-down and Madi, well Madi still didnt know much about hers.

As far as she and Jack could figure out, she could neither hurt herself (a discovery made by repeated and accidental tumbles down the staircase, and an unsuccessful attempt by Madi to pierce her nose) nor be hurt by someone else. Except Dr. Burgher. For some reason, he had been able to slide the needle right in. And it hurt. A lot! Madi theorized that it was the good doctors thoughts that must have controlled how her power would react, so she and Jack had spent the last few days experimenting with various projectiles and various thoughts. I dont know, Madi. Dont worry about it, Jack said. Anyway, Im going to Jakes house to watch movies. K. Whatever. Have fun. Madison watched her brother half fly, half walk down the side of the house, then she went inside. She picked up her cell phone and dialed her friend Liillis number. She let it ring once before hanging up. She glanced at her backpack, sitting on the kitchen table, looked at the phone, then looked at the backpack again. She sighed before unzipping the largest compartment. She put her hand inside and pulled out a small book. The cover was a peacock-blue velvet. Madi opened it to the first page. Her familiar writing was there. She had read it a thousand times since the day she wrote it: Hi, Ell. You there? Its me, Madi. She slowly turned to the second page. It was blank. She licked her finger and flipped to the next page. Nothing. She quickly glanced through the rest of the diary. All 40 unlined and empty pages. Madi sat, put her head on her chin, and cried. *** Preparing the world for takeover by the gods, thereby assuring a position of favor among them, was proving to be a far more difficult task than Major Steve Minot had predicted. His plan was to travel for a few months, set up headquarters near Cheyenne Mountain, and hatch his evil plot. Instead, he spent most of his time painstakingly sketching every single detail of his old labyrinth. Each, turn, each dead end, each nook and every single stinking cranny was transferred from his brain onto a single 11 x 14 sheet of paper. The boredom was excruciating. It excruciated him down to his very hooves, er, rather, toes these days. And yet, he could not stop. Something, some insidious force compelled him to continue documenting each angle, calculating the height of the walls and width of the passageways, and marking every portal. I came here to get away from that structure. I came here to be free. In fits of anger, he would throw his tools only to fetch them back mere seconds later.

He tried handcuffing his hands together behind his back. This, unfortunately, made eating, going to the bathroom, getting dressed and pretty much everything else too challenging. He tried taking allergy medicine to make himself fall asleep, but that only made him loopy and he would draw pictures of pot-bellied pigs doing ballet on the labyrinth walls, which hed have to erase later. And he could not even tear up the sheet of paper. The ex-minotaur was perplexed and ticked off.

Interlude 1 A lesson about Cheyenne Mountain and an aside about acronyms

Officially, the Cheyenne Mountain complex in southern Colorado houses NORAD the North American Aerospace Defense Command which is the official tracker of Santa on his annual flight and gift delivery, and has over the years served as headquarters for a variety of other military operations. And now, let us pause a moment and learn about acronyms. Put simply, an acronym is an abbreviation of a phrase made up of the initial letters. For example, the acronym for self-contained underwater breathing apparatus is SCUBA. S for self, C for contained, and so on. It would stand to reason, then, that the acronym for the North American Aerospace Defense Command would be NAADC, and not NORAD. It would appear to be an overlooked mistake. But would a department with a budget of more money than youve even heard of screw up something so small? Well, yes, if were going to be truthful about it. But consider that it may not be an error. Consider that it could be a cleverly disguised message. Thus endeth our aside. Now, back to our regularly scheduled lesson. Unofficially, but still known to most of the American public, Cheyenne Mountain is where the president and other high-ranking government officials would go in the event of a nuclear attack or alien invasion. Speaking of aliens, secretly, Cheyenne Mountain not Roswell is where the U.S. government keeps and studies the two alien spaceships that have crashed to Earth since 1943. Given that theres 2,000 feet of granite and limestone between the facility and the outside world, its the most secure place in the country. As far as we know.

Chapter 2
Dear Diary Am I doing something wrong? I mean, its been two months and no word from Ellious or Calliope. I know that she would get tired communicating between worlds, so I made sure the message was small, and the

binding was soft and why am I even trying to ask you questions? Youre just a regular old notebook after all. No offense. I miss Ellious. I miss his family. I miss that place. I miss Calliope. I dont miss Cass at all, but hes the one sitting beside the fireplace. Its creepy, right? But Mom was all, I dont think we should just throw him away; he was a living being at one point. It wouldnt be right. Plus, he does kinda look like an expensive and weird piece of art. And my stupid power or whatever you want to call it. Lame city. So what, I cant get hurt? Like thats an important thing. Unless I have to rescue a puppy from a hailstorm or something. But Id have to pretend it hurt cause Mom and Dad are all freaked out that somebody is going to find out about me and Jack and take us away for experiments and make us work as secret government assassins. My parents read way too many conspiracy theory books. I tried punching through a wall to see if I could do that since I could punch really hard and it wouldnt hurt. But, no. Turns out, Im still a wimp. An impervious wimp. Maybe I should start a band with that name. That would at least be something interesting. I would probably have to learn how to play the guitar first. Or the ukulele. I found a cheapo one in the attic. Mom let me keep it, but she and Dad got rid of everything else up there. They were worried that Id get sucked away again. Dont say anything, but I did look for another crystal ball. And I even tried saying Latin to the stuffed monkey paw while shaking it around my head. Nothing worked, obviously, since Im still here and still writing in you. Im trying, Diary, I am. I like Lilli; shes smart and nice. And there are other OK kids here, too. But, dude, theres nothing to do here at all. Watch movies, play video games and work on the farm. Thats all anybody ever does, I swear. I guess its lucky that Lillis dad is going to let me work for him a little. Hes going to pay me to help harvest the sweet corn. Itll be my first job ever. Besides babysitting, that is. Oh, Diary. Is this my life now? School and corn? *** *** Major Steven Minot was highly respected by his associates at Cheyenne Mountain even if Steve himself didnt know why. The minotaur looked the same and had the same personality each time he came to this realm, but his life job, housing situation, romance or lack thereof would change. Not that it was a problem for him.

Some part of the persona he inhabited worked on automatic pilot, performing his duties without any conscious thought from Steve. It was weird. This time, the rules were slightly skewed. Oh, sure, he acted the part of important major with ease, but occasionally he had to think about it. And there was one area closed off from him mind: The UFOs. He knew they were parked in Area 76B, but he did not know how to get into that area, what the passcode was or even if he had clearance. But he was determined to find out.

Chapter 3
Speaking of UFOs and the aliens they often imply Mleep bargle toopopp. Clickitch, tok tok glbant. Shtux icklyu? Sabba tee nok. Sabba tee nok zzay. Hitangh marloaps peetzee kjenakks, suslo quinlak minn jymeep soglick. Moacks? Clivv. Thoooooooooooop. No, seriously.