In a croaked whisper that he could hardly hear himself, George sang, “Joy to the world, the Lord is come, let earth receive her king.”

He didn’t know why he had chosen that song. It was just the first one that came into his head. However, the effect was immediate. The creature hovering over George jerked back in distaste as if stung, and the whips binding George seemed to loosen a bit.

With renewed strength, George kept singing. “Let every heart prepare him room, and saints and angels sing, and saints and angels sing, and saints, and saints and angels sing.”

George could hear Emberly singing next to him, and could tell her voice was getting stronger as well. Although their songs were very different, they seemed to intertwine in the air like twisting vines climbing up a wall. The Grak stepped back, uncomfortably. Several were holding their hands over their ears. The whips were loose enough now that George could wriggle free of their grasp.

Without stopping his song, George struggled free of the whips and stood up. Emberly was standing also, still singing her haunting, peaceful melody. Several of the Grak took a menacing step forward, waving their paws in the air as if to fight off the songs that filled the clearing.

Suddenly there was a loud crack and a brilliant flash of light seared the air from George’s left. The Grak all jumped and turned, and found themselves facing the protector who stood at the edge of the clearing. Although still short and bald, he had a terrible look on his face of determination and strength that George had never seen before. He held a small, round object in his hand that seemed to pulse and glow.

The protector held up the round object and commanded, “Leave this place! Now!”

The Grak didn’t respond or move. In the instant of their hesitation, there was another ear splitting crack from the device in the protector’s hand, and the clearing was again filled with a brilliant, overpowering light.

The Grak scattered. In seconds there were none to be seen. George heard a humming noise from the nearby bushes where they had disappeared. Then he saw what looked like a small spacecraft shoot into the sky and disappear.

Quickly the protector strode over to George and Emberly. “Are you all right?” he asked urgently. “Did they hurt you in any way?”

“I’m fine,” George said in a shaky voice. Emberly said nothing, but stood shivering in the warm sunshine. It looked like there were tears in her eyes. Suddenly she collapsed.

“Quick!” said the protector to George, “help me carry her back to the car!”

The protector lifted her up and George grabbed her legs. Together, they struggled toward the car, fighting their way through the thick bushes. When they reached the car, George saw that the protector had packed away the gauzy transporter and its frame, and had cleared away most of the bushes that had surrounded the Volkswagen, although it was still scratched and scarred.

The protector opened the door and pulled Emberly onto the passenger seat and then gently pushed her forward toward the tiny door. Instantly she seemed to disappear, and then George could see her lying on the floor beneath the seat. The protector quickly followed. As he gently dragged her toward the door of his home, he yelled up at George, “come down and help me get her in.”

Without hesitation, George dove onto the passenger seat of the car, then leaned forward. He again felt himself falling while everything around him seemed to expand instantly in size. Then he was running toward the protector who nearly had Emberly to the door.

Together they pulled her into the protector’s lair. The instant they did so, the legs that George had been carrying disappeared and he found himself holding nothing but empty air. The protector was holding the pink furball that was Emberly, and had himself changed back to the flabby, small gray creature that was his true form.

“I’ve got some ‘heal all’ spray over in the cupboard,” said the protector. “Here, you hold her for a minute.” He shoved Emberly into George’s hands, then sprinted over to the cupboard.

George looked down at the furball in his hands. It was silent and didn’t move, in stark contrast to the bouncing, constantly moving shape he was used to seeing. “She saved us,” he said in a thick voice. “She started to sing right when it looked like they had us, and her singing changed everything.” He turned shakily to the protector. “Will she be all right?”

"I hope so,” said the protector, returning with a small spray bottle. “The effort and the strain of meeting the Grak again was probably too much for her. There’s nothing physically wrong with her. She’s just in shock.” The protector took Emberly over to the table where he started to carefully spray the ‘heal all’ spray onto the pink furball.

“What did you mean when you said she met the Grak again?” asked George, perplexed. “When did she meet the Grak the first time? Over the last few days?”

The protector looked gravely at George for a moment. Then he said quietly, “It was the Grak that destroyed her world, and everyone in it. Even all her family. Somehow they turned all the Praetorians into stone. She alone survived.”

The protector turned back to Emberly and sprayed some more of the ‘heal all’ spray. Then silently the two watched the furball for a moment.

Suddenly it shuddered, then started to roll slowly in a circle around the table top.

The protector smiled. “She’s all right,” he said happily. “She’s still in shock I’m sure, but appears to be o.k.” He walked over and flopped on the couch with a sigh of relief. “Come here and tell me what happened.”

George took a seat on the fuzzy chair opposite the couch. The arms sticking out of it started to gently scratch his back. He had to admit the scratching felt pretty good.

Quickly George told what had happened while the protector looked at him gravely. When George had finished the protector said, “I don’t think they were expecting us. But their being there explains the thick bushes that came out of nowhere. They usually bring ‘insta-grow’ bushes or buildings or walls to hide their actions wherever they go. I don’t think they even realized the transporter was there when they placed the bushes, since of course it was invisible at the time.

“But what were they doing there?” asked George.

“Obviously, checking on the fallen star, and making sure it will do whatever they plan for it to do.”

“What about the singing?” asked George. “Why did that drive them away?”

“As you know,” replied the protector, “the Grak are evil and cruel. The songs you and Emberly sang were pure and simple and good. Emberly knew instinctively that is what she needed to do to survive, because of what had happened on her planet. I know it sounds strange, but they can’t stand that kind of purity. It weakens their power.”

“But Emberly’s people on her world were still destroyed,” said George. “Why didn’t they just sing to save themselves?”

“Well, the songs didn’t really scare them away today,” replied the protector. “Like I said, I don’t think they were expecting us, or they would have been ready. Because this weakness of the Grak is known, they usually wear very thick ear muffs if they know they will encounter someone who might use purity against them. Really, all your songs did was put them off until I arrived and could drive them away with the light bomb.”

“The light bomb?” repeated George, dumbly. “What’s that?”

The protector pulled out of his pocket the strange round object that he had used against the Grak. It looked similar to a golf ball.

“This is the light bomb,” said the protector, “and it is exactly what its name implies. It contains pure light, which the Grak cannot stand. A few flashes of this and they will usually leave.”

George shook his head. “This is all so weird,” he said. “So, you can fight the Grak with songs and light. Why not just use guns or other weapons.”

"Purity is more effective against the Grak,” replied the protector. “I know it sounds very odd. But you should see some of the wars the Grak have had with other creatures. Maybe if you come over some night I can find and show you one on the intergalactic late, late movie.”

“The chief weapons of the Grak are depression and despair,” said the protector. “I’d bet that’s what stands out in your mind when you think of what happened today.”

George nodded affirmatively.

“The Grak have been in many wars with creatures who cannot be killed,” continued the protector. “Amazing as it may seem to you, there are many races and creatures in the universe that cannot die in the regular way that you think of. But they can be captured. That is the greatest threat of the Grak, and their greatest art. They prefer to capture and imprison their enemies and make them slaves, even those that can be killed.”

“Battles with the Grak are bizarre, strange affairs. They’re usually full of light and music instead of explosions and shooting. The Grak literally throw balls of despair at their enemies, which they are very good at creating. When the despair hits, their enemies usually drop their weapons, fall on their knees and weep, wishing they were dead. Those who fight the Grak use light and pure music and similar weapons. The battlefield is a constantly shifting scene of light and dark, for the Grak also have the ability to actually throw darkness and shadows to surround their enemies. These wars are nothing like the battles you people have on this planet. In a way, they are far more sinister and frightening, since if the Grak win, they take the very souls of their enemies. There are some things worse than death, you know.”

“Then,” said George slowly, struggling to force himself to say what he knew he must, “since they’ve apparently captured my dad like I saw that night, they must have subjected him to despair and other terrible things. How could he survive?”

"The Grak suppress their worst weapons when they want to,” replied the protector. “If they want to preserve someone to do something for them, they won’t torture them too badly. In your dad’s case, since they’ve had him for a year, there is probably something they want him to do. They’ve probably used just enough of their weapons of despair to intimidate and frighten him, and keep him under their control. They’re masters at enslaving people and getting them to do what they want.”

There was silence in the room for a moment. George felt a gnawing discomfort at what the protector had just said. He could hardly stand the thought that his father could be under the control of such terrible creatures, and subject to their torture.

Suddenly a pink furball rolled onto the protector’s lap, and started to hum. The protector smiled and petted the ball, which rolled around his lap happily. “Emberly appears to be feeling better already!” he said happily. “She may not yet have learned earth manners, but she has a pure heart.”

Suddenly George stood up. “My cell phone!” he exclaimed. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it as if seeing it for the first time.

“What about it?” asked the protector.

“It hasn’t rung!” said George. “It’s not like my mom to not call every hour.” He looked closer at the phone, then turned to the protector in dismay. “And I know why. It’s been turned off! After I saw it blinking in China, it was shut off somehow. Maybe it happened during our fight with the Grak.” Quickly he pushed some buttons on the phone. “Oh, no!” he exclaimed. “She left fifteen urgent messages on here! When I get home I’m dead!”

The protector laughed. “She may be overprotective, but it’s nice to have someone that cares that much about you, isn’t it?”

“Still,” he continued, “we can’t have her grounding you for weeks right now either. We still haven’t got this thing figured out, and there may be other places we need to go, and other things we need to do.” He went over to a cabinet, rummaged around, and came back with a small, yellow pill.

“Give her one of these as soon as you have a chance,” said the protector, handing the pill to George. “Offer to get her a drink of juice, or something, and drop it in when she’s not looking. It dissolves almost instantly in liquid.”

“What is it?” asked George curiously as he took the pill.

“It’s a ‘happy memory’ pill. It erases all unpleasant memories for the previous 6 to 8 hours, while leaving all other memories intact.”

“Wow!” said George looking at the pill in wonder.

The protector laughed. “I know what you’re probably thinking. You wish you had a whole box full, to save yourself from trouble all the time. Believe me, there’s a black market for these pills across the galaxy, and they’re in high demand everywhere. They’re quite hard to get. You have to have a prescription, and they’re very expensive.” Then the protector added in a lower tone, “I used them on my parents a few times before I came here. I can promise they work pretty well.”

Gratefully, George put the pill in his pocket. “So she’ll really forget all about not being able to reach me?”

“Pretty much,” nodded the protector. “Like I said, try to use it as quick as you can. Until you use the pill, things might be a little unpleasant, so don’t delay. We’ll meet tomorrow at the same time and place. Now, you’d best be going.”

George went quickly to the door. However, before he reached it, Emberly hopped up onto his shoulder, then bounced away again across the room. The protector smiled. “She’s definitely feeling better. I think I’ll give her a bite to eat, maybe some Vlob.”

Seeing the question in George’s eyes, the protector said, “It’s a green, moldy fungus that tastes great—a rare delicacy across the galaxy. Do you want to take some with you?”

“No thanks,” said George quickly, before the protector could retrieve any from the refrigerator wearing a sweater. “I’d better be going.”

The protector pulled a jar full of a green substance from the fridge. “Well,” he said while prying to get the lid off, “by tomorrow I’ll develop my pictures of China’s fallen star, and analyze them. Then we can plan what to do next.”

“I hope there is a tomorrow,” said George slowly. The thought of what he was about to face at home made him wince. Gratefully he patted the pill in his pocket, then darted through the door and was gone.