The next day all George could think about was fallen stars, the protector, China and Uth rocks. He was so preoccupied at breakfast his mother had to tell him three times to stop holding his dripping cereal spoon over his pants. She got after him again when he came out to the car to go to Aunt Agnes’ house with a cowboy boot on one foot and a tennis shoe on the other. George stared blankly out the window for the whole two hour drive to Aunt Agnes’ house, totally oblivious to the passing trees and countryside. Instead, he was seeing images of evil, slobbering Grak, refrigerator’s wearing sweaters and ants driving Volkswagens.

After they arrived at Aunt Agnes’ house, George was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he actually ate a mouthful of pickled peaches his Aunt offered him before he realized what he was doing (naturally, he spit it out immediately).

All in all, the day seemed to creep by like a cat being dragged by his claws across the carpet. After they drove home and George finally went to bed that night, he was exhausted from having tried hard all day to force time to go faster. But at the same time, he was full of excitement to meet the protector and go to China in the morning.

The next morning George was out front as early as his mother would let him. She was actually glad this time to see him go, since he had been such a nuisance the day before at Aunt Agnes’ house, and he had kept making new messes for her to clean up all morning.

George looked up and down the street but didn’t see anyone, or any sign of the protector’s car. He smiled. Just because there was no person in sight didn’t mean the protector wasn’t there. The last time he had surprised George as a dog, and in the park he had been a bird. George looked in all directions for any type of small animal. He didn’t intend to be caught off guard this time.

The sun was shining and it promised to be a warm, beautiful day. There was a gentle breeze and several butterflies were fluttering in the air. George couldn’t see any dogs along the street, or any cats either (other than DoorJam, who was snoozing on the front porch). Although he could hear some birds singing nearby, George couldn’t actually see any birds either.

George settled himself down to wait. He had just plopped down cross-legged on the grass when he heard a voice in his ear.

“So, are you ready to go to China?” it asked.

George stumbled to his feet and turned swiftly around, but there was no one there.

“Whoa, there!” said the voice again. “Settle down! You nearly crushed me!”

George looked around wildly. There was still nothing in sight other than a butterfly fluttering gently through the air near his head.

George did a double take. The butterfly! Of course! George looked at it intently. It didn’t look anything like the protector. George couldn’t tell if it even had a mouth to talk with.

“Yep,” came the voice again. “Today I’m a butterfly. It’s actually kind of pleasant for those days you just want to float around on the breeze, light as a feather. But it can be dangerous if a strong wind comes along – or if you get too close to a human who jumps around and flails his arms like you just did!”

“Sorry about that,” said George. “I wasn’t expecting you to be a butterfly. I’ll try to be more careful.”

“So,” said the protector again, “are you ready to go to China?”

“You bet!” exclaimed George.

“Well, ant number 4 has the car parked right around the corner,” said the protector, “so let’s get going.” The butterfly headed off for the corner at a surprisingly fast pace, with George trotting along to keep up with it.

When they reached the car, Ant number 4 was seated in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead as usual. The butterfly flew through the open passenger seat window and down to the little door. As George opened the car door to get in, he heard a tiny voice floating up to him. “No need to come down here and shrink. Just take a seat in the back. Ant number 4 knows where to go. I’m just going to make a quick change and will be right out.” George then saw the butterfly flutter through the tiny door.

George sat down in the back seat, and ant number 4 started the car and began driving. George still couldn’t imagine how they could travel halfway around the world to China in this little car, but he had already seen the protector do so many amazing things that he no longer doubted they would do it somehow.

Ant number 4 took the car into the country, past the orchard and then to the field where the fallen star was located. The car came to a stop. George heard the protector’s tiny voice say, “We need to start from a secluded spot, and this place is as good as any. I’ll be right up and set up the portable transporter.”

George remained in the back seat, waiting. Ant number 4 stayed exactly where he was, staring blankly ahead into space. Suddenly there appeared on the passenger seat a stubby little man with his shirt tail hanging out and an unshaven growth of stubble on his face. As the man opened the door and got out of the car, George was surprised to see that he was even shorter than George himself.

“I assumed the shape of a man just in case anyone happens to come by,” said the protector. He then reached back into the car and pulled out some thin poles and some flouncy, gauzy material that seemed to shimmer and shift colors in the protector’s hands. He carried these a short distance from the car, set most of them down on the grass, and began working on the poles. George left the car and came up to watch.

“This is the portable transporter,” said the protector, grunting as he jabbed one of the poles into the ground. “It takes about 10 minutes to set it up. It’s kind of like putting up a tent.”

The protector worked swiftly with deft movements, and George watched in fascination as the outlines of what looked like a door appeared before his eyes. It was about 6 feet high and was in the shape of an arch, with enough room underneath for the protector’s car to pass through. Stretched across the poles that formed the frame of the door were the gauzy strands of some strange material that seemed to be constantly changing color. George remembered seeing a smaller version of this type of door in the Protector’s home inside the Volkswagen.

In a few minutes the door was completed. The protector then attached a small black box at the bottom of one side of the door. It had buttons on it similar to a keypad, or the face of a cell phone.

“Now, I just need to make a few settings on the controller here, and then we’ll be ready to go.” He started pushing some of the buttons.

“So, we’re going to drive through that door and it will take us to China?” asked George.

“That’s right,” said the protector. “Only we’d look pretty conspicuous in China the way we are right now. So I’m setting the gauge here to not only transport us, but transform us as well—even Emberly. She needs to get out in the world of humans more often, so I thought she’d come with us today.”

“We’re going to be transformed?” George asked uneasily. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be a butterfly. “How? I mean, what’s wrong with the way we are right now?”

“Well,” the protector responded slowly, “in China you’ll be about 6 inches taller than most boys your age, and you look very American. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb. We want to be inconspicuous and not draw attention to ourselves so we can move about freely.”

George was about to respond when he was suddenly hit from behind between the shoulder blades so hard that he went flying. He looked up dizzily to see a blond haired girl with freckles looking down at him, a big, gawky smile on her face. With alarm, George saw that she looked like she was about to jump on top of him.

“Emberly!” said the protector reprovingly. “It’s not polite to pounce on people when you’re in human shape. You’re a girl now, not a furball.” Emberly turned away with a sulky look on her face.

The protector helped George to his feet. “You’ll have to forgive Emberly,” he said quietly so she wouldn’t overhear. “Although she’s 130 Praetorian years old, she’s still just a child, and it’s not easy for her to adjust to being a member of a different race.”

George turned to see Emberly staring at him, a frown on her face. Suddenly she smiled, walked up to him, and jabbed a finger in his ear.

“Hey!” yelled George, jumping back. “What’re you doing?”

“You’ve got big ears,” Emberly giggled.

“Emberly, that’s not polite,” said the protector with a frown. Then he turned curiously to George. “Or is it o.k. on your planet to poke people in the ear? I’ve never quite been able to learn all of the strange customs you have here.”

“No, it’s not normal at all,” replied George.

“Why not?” she asked innocently. “It’s true, isn’t it? You told me yesterday humans try to be honest, and he does have big ears.”

“Yes, you should always try to be honest,” said the protector patiently, “but that doesn’t mean you go around poking people in the ear and telling them things that are rude or upsetting. If you can’t say something positive, don’t say anything at all.”

Emberly scowled, deep in thought. Then suddenly she smiled again and looking up at George said, “I’ll bet you can hear really good with those big ears of yours! That’s positive isn’t it?”

The protector threw up his hands in exasperation, but George just laughed. “I can hear just fine,” he said to Emberly. “But my ears are about the same size as yours.”

A look of horror spread over Emberly’s face and she clapped her hands over her ears. “I’ve got big ears too!” she screamed, then ran over and tried to hide behind the Volkswagen.

The protector looked at George and shrugged. “Praetorians don’t have ears,” he said simply. Then he turned back to the control box on the transporter and made a few more adjustments.

“All right!” he cried out. “We’re ready to go to Xhenxou, China!” He rubbed his chin. “Or at least, that’s where I hope we end up, if I set it right. But no matter. Hop in, and let’s get going.”

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, George climbed into the back seat of the Volkswagen. Emberly crawled in next to him, still holding her hands over her ears, and avoiding his eyes. The protector sat in the passenger seat.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, turning to face George and Emberly. “Have one of these.” He handed each of them a stick of chewing gum in a red wrapper. “It’s mandarin Chinese flavored chewing gum – good for 24 hours of fluent language as long as you keep chewing on it. Try it. It tastes like fried rice.”

George took the stick of red gum, and stared at it in fascination.

“What do I do with this one?” asked Emberly, forgetting her ears for the moment and pulling a wad of bluish gum out of her mouth.

“That’s English gum,” said the protector to George. “Emberly is still learning your language, so I thought I’d make it easy for her today. But we’ll all be chewing Chinese now, so it won’t be needed. Put it in here,” he said to Emberly, producing a small plastic garbage sack from somewhere.

“You mean, if I chew this, I’ll be able to speak Chinese?” George said in amazement.

“Yep,” replied the protector. “And understand it too, as long as the gum is in your mouth. But of course, you won’t notice anything different. It will seem to you as if you’re still hearing and talking English.”

“Really?” said George.

“Agubordif?” said Emberly.

“There, you see?” said the protector. “Emberly took her English gum out of her mouth and is now speaking Praetorian – at least until she starts chewing some of this—“and he handed her a stick of the red Chinese chewing gum.

Emberly ripped it open and jammed it into her mouth. She made several loud smacking noises as she started chewing. Then she rolled her eyes happily.

“She likes gum,” the protector said confidentially. Then he opened a stick of gum for himself and put it in his mouth, pointing for George to do the same. As George started chewing, he was amazed that it really did taste exactly like fried rice.

“Now,” said the protector, “it probably doesn’t sound like I’m talking to you in Chinese, does it?”

“No,” replied George in disappointment.

“But I am,” said the protector with a smile. “Take the gum out for a second and you’ll see.”

George took the gum out of his mouth and heard the protector say something unintelligible that sounded like it was Chinese.

“Wow!” he said, putting the gum back in.

“Pretty handy, eh?” said the protector. “I’ve got gum for most languages.” Then he added confidentially, “You should try Italian. It tastes just like pizza.”

“And now, on to China!” cried the protector. Ant number 4 started the car, and started to inch forward toward the transporter door.

“Will it hurt to go through the transporter?” George with mounting apprehension as he watched the door draw nearer.

“Not at all,” replied the protector with a laugh. “It’s just like driving through a tunnel. You won’t feel a thing.”

“Where will we end up?” asked George curiously. “Is there a transporter in China too?”

“I entered the coordinates into the controller – it will find a secluded spot where no one will see and will automatically create a transporter opening for us to come in at. Both the opening there and the door here will be cloaked and made invisible as soon as we go through so no one will see them if they happen to chance by. They’ll stay that way until we’re ready to come back.”

Before George could say anything else they were going through the transporter. Rainbows of color danced in patches before his eyes, and washed across the faces of the protector, Ant number 4 and Emberly. George’s skin tingled as if thousands of ants were crawling over him. And then everything went completely dark.