Janet was waiting by the front door when George came home. She had the biggest smile on her face that George had seen in a long time.

“You’re gonna get it!” she said with glee as he came up the steps. “Mom’s just about freaked out trying to reach you for the last 3 hours!” She happily followed George through the door and into the front hall, licking her lips in anticipation.

“GEORGE FIDELIUS BROWN!!” boomed his mother’s voice as George came into the living room. She looked all purple in the face. “Where have you been?! I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!”

“Well,” began George, “I, uh—“

"How could you ignore my repeated phone calls?!” his mother roared again. “What possible excuse can you give for being gone for so many hours without a single word?”

“Uhm, actually,” began George again, “it happened that—“

“There is simply no excuse for your behavior!” interrupted his mother again. “How could there be? Nothing you can say will help. No possible excuse will work. So where were you?”

Her eyes flashed fire while waiting for George to answer her impossible questions. Janet was smiling broadly. DoorJam jumped onto the arm of the couch and rubbed against George’s hand, the only one who had no interest in seeing George suffer at the moment.

George mouthed a few words, then said weakly, “can I get you a drink?”

“A DRINK?!” his mother cried. “What would I want with a drink at a time like this? I want you to tell me exactly where you have been and what you have been doing for the last three hours. And this better be good!”

“Well, uh,” began George, “I was out at the orchard—“

"The orchard?” screamed his mother. “Without my permission? How could you?” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “Let me tell you, young man—“

She then proceeded to verbally rip George apart, word by word, while Janet watched in glee. George stood there helplessly, feeling lower and lower by the minute. DoorJam, seeing an opportunity for a good, long rub, continued to press himself up against George’s hand. This was the type of opportunity he liked best.

After five full, nonstop minutes, George’s mother stopped to catch her breath. Janet, sensing that the best was over, gave George one last smile and left the room. DoorJam kept rubbing for attention.

To George’s surprise his mother suddenly sat down in a chair and looked like she was about to cry. “When I think of your poor father, disappeared without a trace, and you and Janet all that’s left in the world. And now you go and do this!”

George’s stomach felt like it had dropped all the way to the floor. Her anger was bad enough, but he wasn’t sure he could stand tears. “I’m sorry Mom—“

“Ill take that drink now,” she said abruptly looking up, her eyes shiny as if they were about to gush a heavy flow of water.

Gratefully, George darted from the room, tossing an “I’ll be right back!” over his shoulder. With shaky hands he poured a drink of orange juice into a cup, then dropped the yellow pill into it. There was a good deal of popping and fizzing while it quickly dissolved. Carrying it back into the room, he gave it to his mother, whose teary eyes had unexpectedly hardened again. It looked like she was about ready to launch into another attack.

She took a sip. Silently, she looked down into the cup for a minute. “Strange,” she murmured. “I had something terribly important to say, but now its slipped my mind.” She took another gulp. Looking at the glass appreciatively, she said, “this is sure good orange juice. I’ll have to buy this brand more often.”

A smile of relief broadened on George’s face as his mother drained the whole cup. Setting it aside on the lamp table, she turned to George and said, “now, what were we talking about?”

“Uhm,” said George, thinking fast. A sudden inspiration came into his mind. “About how Janet’s been going to the mall too often.”

“Hmmm,” mumbled his mother. She waved her hand in the air as if trying to ward off an invisible fly. “No, I’m sure that wasn’t it. I’d be upset if that’s what it was. We were talking about something much more pleasant. What was it?”

“Well,” said George, thinking again. DoorJam rubbed up against his hand again. “About DoorJam,” he said abruptly. “And how long we’ve had him, and how much you like him.”

“Yes, that was it,” said his mother immediately. She came over and picked up DoorJam, who purred happily at the unexpected attention he was getting. “Such a good cat. Maybe I should buy a special type of food for him.”

She sat down again, petting DoorJam and smiling. Suddenly Janet popped her head in the room again. “So,” she said with relish, “how long is George grounded for, Mom?”

“Grounded?” said George’s mother. “Why should he be grounded?”

Janet’s mouth dropped open in shock. It was now George’s turn to smile happily at his sister.

“For, like, being gone for three hours without a word and driving you out of your mind,” said Janet sharply. “The little twerp nearly made you call the police!”

George’s mother frowned. “Don’t call your brother a twerp,” she said automatically. Then she smiled again. “Gone for three hours? Nonsense. I don’t remember any such thing. George and I were just sitting here talking about DoorJam, and what a nice cat he is.”

Janet gaped at her mother in amazement, while George’s smile grew broader.

“How can you not remember?” Janet cried. “You were pacing the floor for hours, trying to call him on the phone every five minutes!”

“That’s impossible,” said George’s mother dismissively, with a waive of her hand. “If that had happened, I’d remember it.”

“Then you’re not going to punish him?” Janet said in wonder.

“Whatever for?” replied his mother, scratching DoorJam under the chin.

Janet threw up her arms in amazement. As she left the room she grumbled, “Sometimes I think everyone in this family’s gone mad!”

“So,” said George after she was gone. “What’s for dinner?”

His mother looked up. “I think I’ll make your favorite—a pepperoni casserole,” she said with a smile. Then she got up and headed for the kitchen.

George grinned. Now he understood why the ‘happy memory’ pills were in such demand across the galaxy. After a quick pat of DoorJam’s head, he strode from the room.

George had the dream again that night. It was the same as always. His father climbed through the window of his bedroom, came over next to George and sat down on the edge of his bed. He looked very sad and didn’t say a word, while George lay there watching him, unable to move or speak. George’s father then took his right hand and silently began writing on his palm, causing that same tingly, uncomfortable feeling. George still could not tell what he was writing. This went on for some time until he abruptly stopped, walked over and climbed out the window and disappeared without saying a word.

George slept fitfully after that. After tossing and turning and dropping in and out of sleep, George finally got out of bed and went over to look out the window at the empty street below. It was still dark. He began to wonder and worry about what was happening. Why had the clear rock come to him? What strange powers did it have, and how could it help him? Why had a fallen star come down near his home, and the same thing had come down in China? What were the Grak planning to do? How could he do anything to stop them?

With a sigh, George went back to his bed and flopped down. There were no answers, only questions. The protector had helped, but even he couldn’t figure out what the Grak were planning. For the millionth time, George wished his father were there, that he really had come through that window. He knew he could talk to him about the problem, and he would understand and know what to do.

There was a sudden loud ‘pop!’ at the foot of George’s bed. To his amazement, he saw the same leathery brown Ziphon as before, sitting on the bedspread. Before George could cry out, the creature said in its gravely, dry voice, “George Brown, the time is almost at hand for your decision, and your sacrifice. Beware, George Brown. The person you least suspect may betray you!”

Then with another loud ‘pop!’ the creature was gone.

George didn’t move, unsure whether to leap out of bed, cry out in alarm, or do nothing at all. The Ziphon’s words echoed through his mind. His time of decision was almost at hand, and so was his time of sacrifice. What did that mean? And someone he least suspected may betray him. What was that all about? The protector had said that Ziphons always gave true messages. But who did he least suspect, and why would that person betray him?

George continued to sit silently, pondering the Ziphon’s message. Someone he least suspected might betray him. George didn’t suspect anyone, so who could it be? Why would someone need or want to betray him? Who on earth had the Ziphon been talking about?

Slowly, George got out of bed and began to pace his room. A person who he least suspected would betray him. The person he least suspected. His mother? Of course not. She had nearly scalped him yesterday for betraying her. His sister Janet? No. She knew nothing of any of this, although he didn’t doubt she would take glee in betraying him if she had a chance. At any rate, he wouldn’t ‘least suspect’ her.

His father? George sat down with the enormity of the idea. Could his father be the one he least suspected who would betray him? But why, and how? He hadn’t even seen his father in a year, other than in his dream, or that night when he thought he saw him standing behind the Grak. His father would never betray him. George was sure of it.

Who else was left? Any why would they betray him? George got up and began to pace again. An uncomfortable thought had been bubbling up inside him, and now was screaming to be released and recognized. Who was the person who seemed to know everything about the Grak? Who else knew about the rock he had found, the fallen star, and the Ziphon’s warnings? Who was he trusting most these days, and spending most of his time with? Indeed, who else could the person he least suspected be, other than—

—the protector himself!