by Ahmet Zappa
“I nominate Leona!” said Leona.
“You can’t nominate yourself!” Astra exclaimed. “But if someone would like to nominate me, I think I could do a starmendous job. I understand group dynamics and winning, and—”
“How about we don’t nominate anyone and just all vote anonymously?” said Adora. She quickly set up a survey site on her Star-Zap, then made a few adjustments for the group to vote.
Immediately, everyone tapped in their responses. Only Adora waited, thinking for more than a starmin. She considered Astra first, then Libby—who had shown leadership by suggesting the election—then everyone else equally. But in the end, weighing all the evidence, she clicked on a checkmark next to her own name.
Libby did a quick tally. “Adora!” she announced.
“Starkudos,” said Astra quickly. “You’ll make a great leader.”
Adora hadn’t really expected to win. Those things tended to be popularity contests. Sure, Adora thought she was popular in her own way. After a hard day’s work at the lab, she liked to socialize as much as the next Starling. But that didn’t mean she had many close friends.
Adora was certain that a good number of Starlings thought she could be a little cold and unfeeling. But she disagreed. She was just calm and logical. She didn’t let feelings get in the way of decisions. And apparently, that was the best approach right then.
“You won’t be sorry,” she told everyone.
“I know,” said Gemma, reaching out to touch her hand. “You’ll get everything under control.”
Adora nodded. “But I don’t want to be the lone voice.”
“Surely my voice should be heard,” said Leona. She grinned graciously. “Even if this time I’m only a backup singer.”
“All right,” said Adora. “I propose another vote. Should I choose one or two girls to go with me down to the caves? Or should we all go together?”
That time, no vote was necessary. Everyone shouted, almost in unison: “Together!”
Adora looked at Astra and grinned. “Let’s do this the Glowin’ Glions’ way.”
Everyone moved onto the stage, drawing closer and placing their hands in the center of the group, one on top of the other.
“But instead of a team name,” Adora continued, “let’s say—”
She didn’t even have to finish the sentence.
“Star Darlings!” they all cried.
Quickly, Adora reviewed the situation. So far the Star Darlings had decided:
1) to make the rescue a group effort, and
2) to sneak into Lady Stella’s office to take the secret entrance to the Star Caves.
Now she had to put her lightentific method to use.
Generally, she would start by thinking, If I did A, then B, I’d most likely get C.
First she sent a scout to Lady Stella’s office to see if she was there. The result was inconclusive. Rather than take a chance that the headmistress was inside, Adora came up with a plan. In this case, her hypothesis was: (A) If we make sure Lady Stella is not in her office, we could (B) sneak inside and open the secret entrance and (C) rescue Cassie, Tessa, and Scarlet.
Step One: determining Lady Stella’s location.
Of course, there had to be a conclusion at the end of the whole process, an answer to the bigger questions: Had the girls been trapped on purpose? And by whom? But Adora thought those questions would have to wait. First things first, and the first thing in this case was the rescue.
Everyone was still in Leona’s room, looking at Adora expectantly. “Okay,” she told them in a firm voice. “We’ll divide into pairs to scout around for Lady Stella.”
Her eyes settled on Libby. “Libby,” she said. “You come with me. Everyone else, find a partner.”
While the others milled around, Adora took out her Star-Zap and opened a holo-map of Starling Academy. The school was in the shape of a five-point star, with the Little Dipper and Big Dipper Dorms clustered in one point. Faculty housing was in the point to their right, at the very tip. Libby and I will go there, Adora decided. Now, how far should the others spread out?
She peered at the holo-map intently. She was so absorbed in the task that she didn’t notice someone standing next to her until she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Um, Adora?” said Gemma. “I don’t have a partner.” She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears.
Adora stared at her, uncomprehending. The girl was overwrought. She needed to get in control.
Of course Adora realized Gemma was upset about her sister. But really, it did no good going into a star-tizzy. Besides, Gemma should have been the first to pair up; the girl never hesitated to approach anyone and start chattering away.
For stars’ sake, if it was me, Adora thought, I’d be just as happy to work alone. In fact, it would be easier. Already she half regretted having Libby come with her. She’d just tell Libby and Gemma to go together.
“Gemma,” she said, “you and Libby—”
“Can go with you!” Gemma’s face lit up. “Oh, star salutations, Adora! I’ll just run to the Lightning Lounge and scrounge up some snacks before we go. I know Tessa will be hungry!”
Before Adora could stop her, Gemma was gone.
Adora sighed. This was going to be a long step one.
Not long after, the Star Darlings dispersed, each pair heading in a different direction. Adora had assigned Astra and Sage the Radiant Recreation Center and the surrounding area; Piper and Vega the Illumination Library and classrooms in Halo Hall; and Leona and Clover the band shell, the Celestial Café, and the nearby orchard.
She’d told everyone to set their Star-Zaps for reminders to meet at the hedge maze in precisely one half starhour.
Vega had nodded in agreement. “The hedge maze is perfect,” she’d told the others. “It’s a great place to meet in secret.”
Stepping onto the Cosmic Transporter, Gemma linked arms with Adora and Libby. “Come on,” she urged. “We were the last to leave, so we need to hurry!”
Adora didn’t bother to remind Gemma why they were last: she and Libby had had to wait for her to get back with ozziefruit and astromuffins. But teacher housing wasn’t too far away, so they hadn’t lost much startime.
Just starmins later, the three girls hopped off the transporter and found themselves in front of a small holo-sign. The flowing print read simply FACULTY.
If Adora hadn’t been looking for some sort of sign, she might have missed it. There was nothing else to indicate there were homes there.
Adora saw boingtrees and druderwomp bushes, along with the Crystal Mountains in the background, looming beyond Luminous Lake. That was all. But Adora knew for a fact that teachers lived there. It said so right on the sign, not to mention the map. Indisputable proof. But she’d never actually been to that part of campus before. It was all new to her.
“This is odd. Where are all the houses?” she asked. “Have either of you been to a professor’s home?”
Libby and Gemma shook their heads. “We’re only first years,” Gemma reminded her. “Don’t older students usually get invited for twinkle tea? I thought by third year everyone had been here at least once.”
Adora hoped Gemma would stop at that, but unsurprisingly, she continued talking. “I know Tessa has been here a bunch of times. She never made it seem like a top secret location. All the other third years talk about their visits. Have you at least been invited, Adora?”
Adora almost blushed an icy blue. But she didn’t. By sheer force of will, she held herself in check. “I meet with teachers all the time. After class. In the Astro-Energy Lab. Or the Sparkle-Transfer Space. I just don’t have time for twinkle tea or leisurely conversation.”
Adora realized she hadn’t quite answered Gemma’s question. If she had, she would have said, No, I’ve never been invited. She had her theories about why. The science teachers thought she was too frivolous, too interested in clothes and fashion. And the art teachers thought she was too factual and serious-minded to discuss
painting and wish-energy sculpting. Besides, she told herself, she wanted her grades to reflect her work, not her student-teacher relationships.
She paused, frowning. “It never occurred to me it would be hard to find.”
Now Adora did blush. She usually had all contingencies covered, all what-ifs thought out. Not knowing what else to do, she stepped forward to examine the sign. Finally, she noticed the hand scanner on a nearby boingtree.
Is this area open to all students? she wondered. Or do you need special permission? Would her palm open some sort of door?
Adora groaned. How could she have been on campus for three years and not know any of that?
Well, there was only one way to find out. She placed her hand on the scanner, and it glowed blue. Directly ahead of the girls, shimmery leaves parted like a curtain to reveal a small suburban neighborhood.
Homes of all colors, shapes, and sizes circled a village green. Lampposts, bright rainbows arcing from them, bordered the green.
“Why do these houses look so familiar?” Libby asked.
Adora gazed intently at the homes. Libby was right. There was something about this place…something recognizable that made her feel she’d seen it before. Maybe she’d been somewhere similar…seen the houses in some other form…
She snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it!” she cried. She pointed at a stunning umber-colored home with silver-white trim and long elegant lines. It seemed so inviting, so warm and open, Adora wanted to walk right inside. “Does that remind you of anyone?” she asked.
Libby smiled. “Professor Eugenia Bright!”
Professor Eugenia Bright taught Wish Fulfillment. She was so lovely and welcoming—just like the house—that Starlings signed up for her classes starmester after starmester.
“And that must be Professor Dolores Raye’s right next to it,” said Adora.
That home was small, tidy, and off-putting, with a sign that read KEEP OFF THE STARGRASS.
Windows flanked its front door so it resembled a face with large-framed glasses perched on its “nose.” And it seemed, Adora had to admit, like a boring place to live.
“It looks just like her!” Gemma giggled. Unlike Professor Eugenia Bright’s lectures, Professor Dolores Raye’s Wishful Thinking class—covering the nuts and bolts of wish energy manipulation—was cut-and-dried, all business with little spark.
“And guess who lives there!” Adora pointed to a short, squat home that gave the impression it was falling apart. Shutters hung slightly askew, and wispy purple grass escaped the confines of the yard, like hair from a bun.
Suddenly, the front door swung open. The girls all jumped as Lady Cordial stepped outside, checking her Star-Zap and hurrying as if she’d just received an important message.
Z-z-z-z-z. Adora’s own Star-Zap buzzed at the same time. She gave it a quick look, already knowing it was a holo-reminder to meet the Star Darlings at the hedge maze.
Just then, Lady Cordial tripped over a glimmervine. Her purse fell to the ground, and all its contents spilled onto the walkway.
Libby rushed to help. “Lady Cordial! Let me get those things for you!”
“Oh, my s-s-s-s-stars,” Lady Cordial stuttered. “What are you girls doing here?” She stooped down to gather her things, accidentally knocking Libby farther away.
Adora bent down to help.
“No! I can do it myself!” exclaimed Lady Cordial. Clearly, she was embarrassed by her clumsiness.
“Star greetings, students and teacher!” Professor Findley Claxworth was fast approaching. His long, loose paint-splattered smock swung in the breeze. His lavender eyes, a perfect match for his hair and glasses, twinkled merrily.
Everyone liked the affable art professor. Adora had taken his Aspirational Art classes—Introduction to, Advanced, and Exceptionally Advanced. She liked him, too. But she feared he was one of the teachers who thought she spent too much startime focused on the scientific end of art and design.
Professor Findley Claxworth smiled warmly. “Ladies,” he said, including the Star Darlings in the greeting.
Libby’s and Gemma’s glows deepened with pleasure.
“Star greetings, Professor Findley Claxworth,” said Adora.
Lady Cordial barely nodded, too busy closing her purse and clucking in embarrassment at her clumsiness.
“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” he asked the girls.
Gemma and Libby stepped back to let Adora take over.
“We’re tracking flutterfocuses for my Comparative Creatures class. I think they flew over here. Libby and Gemma are just helping me.” Adora was lying, and Libby and Gemma knew it. She only hoped Lady Cordial and Professor Findley Claxworth didn’t.
Adora rarely lied, and she doubted she was very good at it. As a scientist, Adora believed in truth and accuracy—both in experiments in the lab and in life outside the lab. How could she consider herself a true scientist—not to mention a good Starling—if she allowed facts to be altered to fit her own needs?
But every once in a while, it needed to be done.
“That’s interesting,” said Lady Cordial distractedly. “I didn’t notice any s-s-s-s-swarms. But I’ve been inside most of the day, going through admissions applications. Next s-s-s-s-staryear’s incoming class looks like a s-s-s-s-strong one.”
“Oh!” Gemma piped up, suddenly interested. “Are there any applications from Solar Springs, my hometown?”
Adora felt sure Lady Cordial wouldn’t give out that kind of confidential information unless it was by accident. She was too thoughtful and by-the-holo-book. But Adora knew the sweetly bumbling head of admissions was certainly capable of slipping up. To save her any more embarrassment, Adora turned to Professor Findley Claxworth and changed the subject. “Are you working on something right now?”
“Why, star salutations for asking, Adora,” he said, clearly pleased. “I’m just about to start my new piece. And I’m thrilled to have an audience.”
He waved his arms, and a small white house that looked like a blank canvas built on easel-like stilts lit up with a soft glow. Adora noted the neat garden in front. Then she realized the flowers were really lightpaint cans.
Professor Findley Claxworth snapped his fingers and the cans rose into the air. He pointed to one. It swung back and forth, splashing bright yellow lightpaint against one side of the house. He snapped again and the other cans flung vibrant blues and greens. He fluttered his fingers and the dripping lightpaint transformed into a field of bluebeezel flowers under setting suns.
“S-s-s-s-so lovely,” Lady Cordial stammered.
“Just experimenting,” Professor Findley Claxworth said modestly.
Experimenting! Adora had to focus on her own lightentific method. They had to find out if Lady Stella was home.
“And I’m just leaving.” Lady Cordial interrupted Adora’s thoughts. “S-s-s-s-star apologies, girls. Next time you visit, I’ll have you over for twinkle tea and astromuffins.” With one final nod, she disappeared through the leaves.
“Anyone like to try another side of the house?” Professor Findley Claxworth asked. “I have plenty of lightpaint left.”
“Yes!” said Libby and Gemma, stepping forward.
“Yes, we’d all love to try,” Adora said firmly, “but we have to find those flutterfocuses!” She turned to Gemma. “Tessa is in my Comparative Creatures class,” she added, stressing Tessa’s name. “She needs this information, too.”
“Of course!” Gemma’s eyes flashed. Her voice rose in agitation. “Tessa! The project! We don’t have time for anything else!”
Suddenly, silence descended, as if a blanket had been thrown over Starling Academy, muffling all sound. The distant whir of the Cosmic Transporter, the faraway hum of the startrack, all the regular every-starday noise—the kind you didn’t notice until it ceased—stopped. The light of the rainbow lamps shut off with a click.
The Starlings stared at the lampposts in disbelief. Another energy outage! They’d been happeni
ng more and more frequently.
“One, two, three…” Adora counted the starsecs, and at twenty-seven, the lights blinked back on.
“Really just a blip!” said Professor Findley Claxworth almost cheerfully. “And it helped me see my painting in a different light. It definitely needs a hint of purple to balance the colors more—” Then he seemed to catch himself. “Of course, these blackouts are terrible. Just terrible.”
He smiled once more at the girls. “I hope to see you all in my next starmester classes. Adora, look into Art of Wishing. It’s a high-level elective!” And he slipped inside his house.
Gemma grabbed Adora’s arm. “Oh, my stars! Did you hear him? The professor actually likes the outages! He could be behind the energy shortage, the one who’s trying to mess up our missions.”
Libby gasped. “Maybe he thinks we’d all create more art if Starland ran out of energy! If we didn’t have Star-Zaps or transporters or swift trains, we’d all slow down and really look at things.” She shook her head, confused. “Not that it would be bad to focus on art.”
“Let’s not think about good or bad, or why or why not,” Adora said. “And let’s not jump to conclusions! We can discuss art versus science all starday long when Starland is on track again.”
She paused to check her Star-Zap. They really had to leave. They’d spent way too much time there already, and the other Star Darlings might be waiting.
“But right now, let’s find Lady Stella’s house.”
Adora led the two younger Starlings around the village green to look at the row of houses facing the Crystal Mountains. She kept her eyes open for the headmistress’s house. Lady Stella had a classic kind of beauty. She wasn’t flashy—not like that globe-shaped house with hydrongs of stars shooting out the chimney. Or that hot-pink one with bright yellow shutters opening and closing as if it was rapidly blinking.
Lady Stella was stately; she moved in a calm, unhurried way. Adora had admired her from the starmin they’d met. She couldn’t really be guilty of sabotage, could she? That would be truly devastating.
