Brothers, Jack and Zane, 11 and 13, along with their eccentric grandparents, a shape-shifting alien, a beast the size of a Sasquatch with a heart of gold and the right hook of a war god, and a kick-ass girl who takes nothing-from-nobody join together as The Keepers in a prophesied war against an army of Anthro-bots. Before their battle, they travel through a wormhole to Planet Ceejix where each engages in a personal quest to ready him/her/them self for passage. As Chinese General Sun Tzu (544 B.C.) said in The Art of War, each color is beautiful. But colors in combination create more hues than imaginable. And so it is with the powers of The Keepers
Brothers, Jack and Zane, 11 and 13, along with their eccentric grandparents, a shape-shifting alien, a beast the size of a Sasquatch with a heart of gold and the right hook of a war god, and a kick-ass girl who takes nothing-from-nobody join together as The Keepers in a prophesied war against an army of Anthro-bots. Before their battle, they travel through a wormhole to Planet Ceejix where each engages in a personal quest to ready him/her/them self for passage. As Chinese General Sun Tzu (544 B.C.) said in The Art of War, each color is beautiful. But colors in combination create more hues than imaginable. And so it is with the powers of The Keepers
I could calculate your chance of survival, but you won't like it
--Marvin, the Robot
Plumes of black smoke crisscrossed the sky. Three figures stood on a bombed-out ridge, their pulsing emerald eyes slicing through the thickening gloom. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of smoldering death.
The largest of the three robots transmitted a message skyward toward Earth's moon. The signal penetrated the lunar core and emerged on the dark side, where the mother ship lay in wait. The message: "The two males are in range."
The robot turned a large, elliptical, soulless eye toward the house, scanning for infrared. Telescoping lenses rotated and whirred, animated by the prospect of two young trophies. The bot emitted a high-frequency whine, as it mechanically pinpointed its prey and calibrated the frequency for the capture . . . or, if necessary, the kill.
Jack and Zane peered through the attic shutters of their Grams's old farmhouse. "Whoa . . . What ARE they?" Zane asked, voice trembling.
"Not sure, but judging by all the smoke, I'd say they are not looking to "friend us" on Spacebook," Jack whispered.
Zane ignored his older brother's epic fail at lightening the mood. "Where's Grams's Talkabout?" he asked, panic setting in. "We have to tell her what's happening. She's got to get us out of here!"
Most mornings Grams sculpted in her art studio at the top of the ridge, while the boys played video games down at the
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I could calculate your chance of survival, but you
won't like it.
—Marvin, the Robot
farmhouse. Mountains blocked cell phone service, so they used the walkie-talkie to keep in touch.
Zane shoveled comic books and game boxes onto the floor, frantically looking for the two-way radio.
Both terrified and fascinated by the robots, Jack stared out the shutters and said, "Even if we find the radio and talk to Grams, number one, she won't believe us. Number two, last time I looked she didn't have any alien blasters. Number three, if she comes here, those things in our front yard will probably charcoal her." Then he mumbled through a half-smile, "These bots are amazing."
"How can you say that? Those bots are about to vaporize our Grams . . . and us!" cried Zane.
"No. You're right. You're right." said Jack, snapping out of his guilty admiration. "We've got to find the radio." Then, his attention drawn back to the robots, he said, "I wonder if they are toxic or shoot plagues out of their armpits or something . . . ."
"Don't say stuff like that!" pleaded Zane, imagining his face peeling off.
Just then another explosion detonated, much closer this time, uprooting a giant oak next to the old well house. An angry, reddish-brown column of pulverized earth, wood, and stone plumed and spread, pelting the roof and ground, as detritus fell. Jack jumped back from the shutter. Tiny sparkling flecks from the explosion danced through the broken glass, glinting eerily in the light. Zane frantically swept the particles off his clothes. "Oh, great!" he screamed, jumping around, as he tried to brush off the dust and terror. "Now I'm covered in radioactive flesh- eating germozoids. Forget calling Grams. Call big army dudes . . . with extremely large guns . . . and lots of doctors!"
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"Word that," said Jack. "Frack! Where did I leave that radio?" he said, as he smacked his head with an open palm trying to knock the answer loose. "C'mon, c'mon . . . ."
And then it came to him. "It's downstairs. I think I tossed it onto the computer desk."
"I'll get it!" yelled Zane, as he made a dash for the steps.
Jack grabbed him by his shirt and spun him around. "No way! You're not going anywhere. We can't be running around and making noise. Now that I think of it, those things are probably listening to us right now. I'll bet they can hear a mouse pee."
That thought froze both of them, as they looked at one another, each holding his breath.
They heard a scraping sound, as the front gate creaked open and dragged along the rocky path. They scrambled back to the shutter and saw the bots lumbering along the garden walk heading straight for the house. Then there was a sudden crackle. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. "What was THAT? They are in the house! The bots are in the house!" Zane screamed.
"Shhhhhhhhhhhh!!" said Jack, muffling Zane's mouth with his hand. "It's just Grams on the radio."
"Jack . . . Zane . . . I heard some kind of explosion, and I see smoke! What in blue blazes in going on? Is Department of Transportation blasting again? Those sons of buckets. Are you okay? Answer me right now, you two! Jack? Zane?" There was a pause, as she waited for a reply. "That's it. I'm coming down."
"We can't let her come down here," said Jack.
"I'm getting the radio!" said Zane, as he lunged once more for the steps.
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"NO!" said Jack firmly, pulling his brother back once more. "If anyone is going, it's me . . . and I am SO not going."
"Well, then do something! We have to get out of here! We have to stop Grams," cried Zane. His stomach was starting to feel like a clump of clay being cranked through a noodle extruder.
Jack took Zane by the shoulders, looked into his zig- zagging eyes, and spoke very slowly. "It's okay. Really. We'll be all right, but we cannot panic. Stay calm. I have a plan."
"It had better be a some kind of alien-pocalypse super- plan, Jack, 'cause in case you hadn't noticed, those campfire space cadets are about to roast our weenies," Zane cried, as he glanced at his manliness, shivered, and then sneaked another peek through the shutters.
"Right. Like I don't get that." He bobbed his head up and down as if to pump out a thought. "Okay. Here's the plan. We could . . . ," Jack started, precious seconds flying by.
"Yeah . . . we c-o-u-l-d . . . ," Zane echoed expectantly.
"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" Jack said, stalling, praying that something . . . anything would pop into his head. Grams and Grandy told the boys if they were ever in life-threatening danger, they were to go the cellar under the barn. It was strictly off limits any other time, but if end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it danger were imminent, they were to go there, lock the hatch door behind them, and sit tight.
But the bots were breaking in downstairs. How could he get Zane to the cellar? Then Jack heard his grandfather Charlie's words as though he were standing right next to him. He quoted a favorite Ray Bradbury line, "Jump off the cliff, and build your wings on the way down."
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Never trust a sweet little kitty, no matter how cute. And watch out for Trig holographs! Young Zane Starr learns this the hard way in this hilarious and eminently engaging sci fi fantasy romp by Donna Rhodes. As fast as greased lightning and as smart as a whip, The 7 Keepers is clever, quick, and a riot of a good read. It packs a wallop!
Brothers Jack and Zane Starr, ages 13 and 11, are number one on an alien’s most wanted list. They’re two of the 7 Keepers who are destined to save the earth, its sister planet, and, if necessary, the entire galaxy. So no pressure, dudes.
Jack and Zane’s “eccentric” grandparents were supposed to lead the 7 Keepers in defeating the evil Ascendants as foretold in a prophecy. But Grandy Charlie disappeared in a boating accident and is presumed dead. That leaves Grams and the two boys alone on their remote farm. The robotic army of the Ascendants, led by Villious and her progeny Trig the microbot, are closing in. But Grams and the keepers have a few tricks up their own sleeves in this bodacious and brilliant sci fi adventure.
Incidentally, those extra tricks are a good thing, because the Ascendants don’t play well with others. Once “highly regarded” defenders of planetary systems, Ascendants have “succumbed to corruption and greed in recent times.” They ravage, burn, and terrorize much of the galaxy in search of power, eliminating anyone who gets in their way. Like Spex the Oculi. This inoffensive, family-oriented soul has been taken captive by the evil Ascendants. Spex is forced to do their bidding or risk great harm to his family. Turns out Spex has a knack for finding things underground. Like… Jack and Zane?
Meanwhile, the two boys are trapped in an underground tunnel after fleeing Grams’ house for the barn cellar during a robotic attack. It’s not looking good for our boys. But when Spex is saved by Grams, he decides he can’t just stand by and watch another family suffer. So when Zane is taken captive by Trig and injected with … Oh, hang on a min. You’ll have to read the book yourself to find out what happens next. Cuz there’s plenty.
Drenched in rapier wit, groan-worthy puns, and clever word play, The 7 Keepers crackles with energy and elan. And who can resist similes such as: “The compression shot Fred out of the cave like a watermelon seed at a spitting contest"? Or, “His eyebrows leapt into his scalp like caterpillars stampeding for cover.”
Indeed, an impressive vocabulary and an agile plot coupled with a prodigious sense of humor serves up a glittering galaxy of a story in The 7 Keepers. Think chuckles of the snort-root-beer-out-your-nose variety (don’t ask how I know that. I laughed out loud so many times, I lost track!)
Immensely entertaining, the plot moves like a Porsche 962 at Le Mans. Characters are fresh, original, and dynamic. In fact, the characters really make this book. They’re a hoot and a half! Especially Grams. If you’re thinking frail white-haired lady sitting a rocker and knitting, think again. Grams is one badass, butt-kicking grandma! The interactions between brothers Jack and Zane are also spot-on. The rhyming shape-shifters AR and EL are hilarious. Rodger Dodger. Okey Dokey, Annie Oakley.
Also molecular shifts. “Army dudes with big guns and doctors!” “Holy catnip, Batman!” The Astonishing Starfield Trio. “An ‘i’ for an eye.” "A good tinkerer makes a great thinkerer.” Great gobs of gooey cake. A “terror sandwich: two slices of panic wrapped around a slab of OMG.” A 3-D panoramic radiograph. A famous Oculi proverb: Never die hungry. “Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.” The Resonant. Much more! (By the way, what did Villious mean when she looked at Jack and said, “He’s the one”? The one what?)
This book is just Too. Much. Fun! It’s clever, catchy, and marinated in sass and spunk. Think War of the Worlds meets Star Wars meets Red Dawn and Mel Gibson’s Signs. Sort of. It would make a good movie. Just sayin'.
Middle grade readers and anyone who loves a rollicking sci fi/adventure story with more plot twists than Iowa’s Snake Alley will enjoy The 7 Keepers.
Meanwhile again, another installment of The 7 Keepers is forthcoming. Hurry up, please. Cuz I can’t wait!