by Erin Downing
“Well?” Geela prompted, after the band stared at her without saying anything. “Aren’t you delighted?”
A low growl built up in Juno’s throat. But before she could let it out, Luna cheerfully said, “Yes, so delighted. What a treat.” She gave the others the briefest of looks that said, Now is not the time to fight.
“Then come,” barked Geela. “All of you. The short, chubby pest and your old man, too.” She spun around and led the band, Chamberlin, and Bradbury through a maze of corridors. Rand stumbled along after the group, his arms laden down with instruments and cords. The roadie looked positively stunned—he was a huge Geela fan and had probably never imagined he would have the opportunity to stand so close to a true legend.
While they walked, Athena remained at the back of the line—just behind Rand—subtly placing trackers every twenty feet or so. She wanted to ensure that they could find their way back to the entrance, if the need arose. She refused to trust Geela, even with good old Bradbury and his camera glasses around.
With a flourish, Geela ushered them into an enormous ballroom. The space was filled with expensive food (the first truly royal feast any of them had seen since fleeing their home planets), ice sculptures (all carved to look like Geela’s head, though each wore a slightly different facial expression), and sumptuous chairs and banquettes scattered around the room.
Luna drew in a quick breath—she had been craving this sort of elegance for weeks. Platters heaped with caviar and desserts, elegant tiny bites paraded around by gorgeous, well-dressed waiters. Luna beamed at one of the most adorable waiters, who winked at her. She let her breath back out again.
“Remember whose party this is…” whispered Juno, nudging her. “Don’t fraternize with the enemy.”
“I know,” snapped Luna. She gazed longingly at the fabulous treats and the bounty of even more fabulous guys. “I’m just looking—I promise not to touch.”
There was a smattering of applause when the group entered the room. The party guests were made up of an odd assortment of Pallomo government workers, a collection of Geela’s Android Soldiers, and an eclectic mix of aliens who—based on their name tags—were all employed by Geela and stood cowering in the corners of the room.
“Do you mind if I live-stream the party?” Bradbury asked, his voice shaking.
“Why not?” Geela said breezily. “My hair looks amazing today.”
Bradbury flicked a few buttons on the side of his glasses, gazed slowly around the room, and then began speaking into the button on the cuff of his jacket. “Coming to you live from Pallomo…” he began in a low voice.
“Let the party begin!” Geela announced, waving her arm as though she was waiting for something dramatic to happen. Nothing did. For a long time, no one spoke. All the party guests just stared at SPACEPOP and Geela, who remained near the doors. “Isn’t this marvelous?” Geela said after a long, awkward moment.
Rhea looked at her strangely. Though she had been to parties only in the palace on Rhealo, she was pretty sure most “parties” were usually a bit livelier than this. This was nothing but a collection of people who had obviously been forced to spend the evening in a room together. Based on the fact that everyone averted their eyes when she looked their way, it seemed that there was no one in attendance who would actually call Geela a friend.
For the briefest moment, both Rhea and Hera found themselves feeling sorry for the evil empress. Then they both remembered what she had done to the princesses’ homes and families and how she mistreated the residents of their formerly peaceful galaxy—and any lingering pity was gone.
“You know,” Geela said, her voice echoing in the nearly silent room. She snapped her fingers at one of the circling waiters. When he swooped in, she plucked a raw field onion off a tray, popping it into her mouth in a single bite. “I sing, too.”
The band stared at her, trying to mask their hatred. They all knew this was neither the time nor the place for them to exact their revenge on the evil empress—but that didn’t make it any easier to be in a room with her. And none of them, under any circumstances, wanted to make small talk with her.
“Did you hear what I said?” Geela said, now snapping in Athena’s face. “I am a singer.”
“I see,” Athena said coolly.
“I’ll perform with you at your next concert,” Geela announced. “Imagine the delight on everyone’s faces when I—the incredible Empress Geela—appear onstage to share my talents with amateur performers such as yourselves.”
“You want to perform with us?” Luna asked in a strained voice.
“Want?” Geela laughed, as though the idea of her wanting anything was ridiculous. “No. But I will.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Luna said, plastering on a fake smile. “I’m sure you have much more important things to be doing than singing with us.”
“Like ruining our galaxy…” Juno whispered so quietly only Hera could hear.
“Ah, yes,” Geela said, smirking. “You mean important things like destroying the former royal planets of the Pentangle so I can rebuild them to my liking?” Chamberlin squeaked, but Geela didn’t seem to hear. “Or torturing the useless Pentangle royalty inside their new home in my Dungeon of Dark Doom?” She popped a tiny fish into her mouth, chewed, and then added in a low voice, “Speaking of which, I owe my ridiculous royal guests a visit. It’s been too long since they’ve had the honor of my company.”
With wide, innocent eyes, Luna managed to ask, “Will you…” Gulp. “… be visiting the prisoners tonight?”
“Tonight?” Geela snapped. “Impossible. I’m here at this fabulous dinner with you.”
Realizing Luna was fishing for clues as to the dungeon’s whereabouts, Rhea somehow found her voice to speak, too. She pressed, “Perhaps you’ll go to them after the party?”
“Considering the Dungeon of Dark Doom is on a different planet, that’s highly unlikely.” Geela rolled her eyes, not seeming to realize that she had just eliminated Pallomo from the list of possible planets that could be hiding the prisoners. She had inadvertently given the Resistance a very important clue that made this unpleasant evening very worth it!
Before Geela could say anything more, one of her assistants slipped into the ballroom and handed her boss an oversize handbag. “I thought this might be a good time to bring out your new accessory, Your Highness?” the assistant said, bowing low. “Perhaps the kid with the glasses could get some footage of you with it to make the acquisition worthwhile?”
“Wonderful,” Geela said darkly, swinging the bag on her arm. She glanced at Bradbury and called out, “Yoo-hoo! Runty cameraman! Get a shot of this. I think some of your fans might like to know that SPACEPOP and I have matching accessories!” Geela opened the bag’s zipper and peered inside. “Ugh, pets,” she sneered. “Such a nuisance. Am I right?” She looked up at the band, waiting for one of them to agree with her.
Hera opened her mouth to reply, but before she could firmly disagree, a small, fuzzy head with pointed ears poked up and out of Geela’s handbag. “Wh-wha—?” Hera stuttered. “What is that?”
“It’s one of those kwub-kwubs that have become so fashionable,” Geela said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve learned that if I don’t keep the horrible thing locked up all day, it’s constantly trying to climb on me and nuzzle. Nuzzle! Do I look like a nuzzler? Taking it in seemed like a good idea at the time, but I absolutely detest the thing.”
“At the time?” Hera asked.
“My team ordered it from some sort of ridiculous pet-adoption event last weekend. They picked the so-called ‘cutest’ creature and told me carrying it around would soften my image.”
Hera squinted at the kwub-kwub stuffed into the bag. The poor little beast peeked out at her, quaking with fear. Hera recognized the critter immediately: it was the very same kwub-kwub she had snuggled with at the celebrity pet-adoption event just days earlier! “But—” Hera began, her voice catching. “But kwub-kwubs need affection. Without enough cuddling, they g
et very restless and agitated. They can become highly depressed, and—”
“Did I ask for a lesson in pet care?” Geela snapped, cutting her off. “I am all-knowing. The last thing I need is a lecture on fur care from you. You can’t even keep your curls from frizzing. Now. Shall we play?”
“With the kwub-kwub?” Hera asked hopefully.
“You really are rather dim,” Geela said, throwing her a pitying look. “I mean, shall we play for my party guests, of course. Consider this your audition.”
“Audition for what?” Juno asked.
“To be my backup band. I’ve been looking for the right musicians to back up my vocals, and it seems you five ought to be given the chance to try out.”
“You want us to audition to be your backup band?” Luna asked, a note of horror in her voice. Luna sang backup to no one.
“I know this is a great honor,” Geela said. “It’s highly unusual to have a chance to perform with such greatness so early on in your careers. But you need not be nervous. Tonight is our first performance together, so I’ll go easy on you. Bratwick,” she said, getting in Bradbury’s face. “Make sure you capture this moment for the fans. The universe is about to witness something extraordinary!”
* * *
Moments later, the band was ushered to the front of the room, where their gear was already squeezed into a corner of a stage. None of the princesses wanted to sing with Geela, but they didn’t have much of a choice. To defy her would ensure certain punishment—or worse.
Geela adjusted her hair (prompting Luna and Rhea to exchange a knowing glance) and then tapped her fingernail on a microphone to call the partygoers’ attention to the stage. “I hope you are all prepared for a real treat. Presenting Geela and the SPACEPOP!”
There was a smattering of applause as everyone in the crowd shared confused looks. But when Geela screamed into the mic, “Cheer, you lowly fools!” they all jumped up and down and whooped and clapped. Bradbury cheered louder than anyone. He rushed to the front of the stage so he would be able to live-stream the entire concert for his—and SPACEPOP’s—legions of fans galaxy-wide.
Geela turned to the band and announced, “Since you don’t know any of my brilliant songs, why don’t I do you a favor and start with one of yours? I will kick things off with your awful little ‘hit,’ ‘We ’Bout to Start Something Big.’” After a fast, uneven count, Geela launched into the song—and butchered it.
Her voice sounded like death itself.
Many people in the audience covered their ears to try to hide from the horrific sound. Hera’s ears stung. Rhea couldn’t keep herself from laughing at the craziness of the situation. Though they couldn’t even hear their instruments, the band did their best to keep up with her frantic pace. Luna tried to sing more loudly to cover up Geela’s vocals, but Geela just shoved her out of the way and unplugged Luna’s microphone.
At the end of the song, the party guests tried to sound enthusiastic. Geela smirked, cooed “You’re welcome,” and then launched into another song. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Geela was not a singer. But no one could say it, of course.
Then, a few songs into the concert, things got even uglier. Some nervy audience member began to quietly chant, “SPACEPOP, SPACEPOP, SPACEPOP”—and it didn’t take long for the chant to catch on. At first, Geela couldn’t hear the crowd over the sounds of her own screeching. But when she realized what the crowd was chanting, she freaked out. In a fit of fury, she wrapped her long fingers around Hera’s and Luna’s arms and began to drag them off the stage.
From the front of the stage, Bradbury yelled, “Hey! Where are you going?”
But Geela was so overcome with anger that she didn’t seem to hear him. She just tightened her grip and pulled harder. Hera and Luna both flailed and scrambled, trying to escape Geela’s deathly hold. Suddenly, Hera felt Geela’s fingers release her. Hera looked down and saw the tiny kwub-kwub cub had sunk his razor-sharp teeth into Geela’s arm!
By then, the rest of the band had figured out what was happening. Juno, Athena, and Rhea stopped playing. Luna screamed. The crowd stopped chanting, and Geela froze.
In the silence that followed, Bradbury called out, “Once again, this is Bradbury—reporting live, from a very special concert on Pallomo.”
CHAPTER 9
“If Geela disliked us before, she’s going to hate us now,” Luna said, as soon as the band was safe and sound and miles away from the party on Pallomo. She collapsed onto one of the sofas in the space bus’s living room and turned on some music. When she recognized the song as one sung by Arion IV—SPACEPOP’s biggest musical rival—Luna quickly flicked to a different channel.
“I think my ears are still burning,” Rhea said, exploding in a fit of giggles as she plopped down beside Luna. “In all my life, I’ve never heard anything as brutal as Geela’s singing voice. She sounded like a goat trapped in a field of hungry lions!”
“Sqwaaaa!” Juno sang out, doing her best impression of Geela’s voice. “BLAAAAT!” She put a hand over her neck and cringed. “How does she even make that sound? It hurts my throat!”
“We have to go back,” Hera said, staring forlornly out the window of the space bus as the soft Pallomo landscape faded into a speck in the distance. The moment the band had returned to the bus, Chamberlin made himself tea, then blasted onto the space highway with no clear destination set. He was so eager to get away from Geela, in fact, that he had almost left Rand behind on Pallomo. The band’s poor roadie had been racing toward the bus with a huge armload of gear as Chamberlin started up the bus. He’d made it through the huge bus door just in the nick of time.
“Back to that party?” Athena asked. “Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish?”
“I need to rescue the kwub-kwub!” Hera said through tears. “Geela keeps the poor thing locked up in a handbag, and he looked absolutely terrified! How did she even pass the adoption screening?”
“You think Geela filled out an adoption-application form?” Rhea snorted. In a sarcastic voice, she continued, “Yes, that’s right. The woman who stormed our homes, took the entire royal court as her prisoners, declared herself empress of the galaxy … I’m absolutely certain she went through the usual channels and filled out an application to adopt her perfect pet.”
“But there’s no way she would have passed the screening!” Hera said, outraged. “The pet-rescue center ensures that each adoptive family knows how to properly care for their new friend before they place them in the home. I made sure of it!”
“Hera,” Rhea said in a gentle voice. “I was being sarcastic.”
“Oh.” Hera sniffled. She crossed her arms and said defiantly, “I will rescue that little sweetheart. It’s inhumane to adopt a pet just because you think it will improve your image. Geela disgusts me. Even more than she did before.”
“And here I would have thought spending an afternoon together at an extremely awkward party might have made the two of you become friends,” muttered Rhea. “Guess I was wrong.”
“I can’t believe Bradbury set us up like that,” Luna said.
“I don’t think he set us up,” Athena said. “I honestly think he was just as surprised by Geela taking over his party as we were. The poor guy was sweating and crying and looked absolutely terrified. I’m glad he was able to get out of there when we did.”
Juno added, “Thank Grock he was there today. If Bradbury hadn’t been live-streaming the party, just think what Geela would have done to us when the crowd turned on her and chanted our names instead of hers.” She grinned. “That was amazing.”
“It was amazing,” Rhea said. “Not as cool? Dragging Hera and Luna offstage. That did happen, right? Or was I imagining it?”
“It happened! She is really strong,” Hera said, giggling. “Do you know why she let me go? The kwub-kwub stuck his head out of her handbag and bit her! That sweet little thing was trying to save me…” She broke off, sobbing again. “And we didn’t do anything to repay the favor! He’s sti
ll trapped, living a horrible life in Geela’s custody!”
“You know what’s even sadder than that?” Juno asked. “Neither of you was able to defend yourselves when you knew you were being threatened. You had to rely on a kwub-kwub cub and Bradbury’s video glasses to save you from Geela. Just think of what might have happened if we had been somewhere alone with her. What if we get trapped on one of the planets we’re exploring, and we need to fight our way out? It’s clear we need to do some more training. Right now.”
Luna whined, “I hate fight training.”
“Too bad. You all need to toughen up. There won’t always be a kwub-kwub around to protect you.” Juno led the girls into their bedroom common room, so as to avoid any awkward encounters with Rand. Thankfully, their oblivious roadie hadn’t yet figured out the girls’ secret side job for the Resistance, and they all planned to keep it that way. “Now, let’s go over some of the basics.”
Athena plunked down in front of her keyboard, tapping out the notes to her song-in-progress while Juno spoke.
“First off, prevention is the smartest form of self-defense,” Juno began. “It’s important to always be aware of your surroundings. Stay alert; never put yourself in a foolish spot. If you can avoid a dangerous situation altogether, that’s ideal.”
“We’re spies,” Rhea said drily. “It’s part of the job to put ourselves into dangerous situations.”
“Yeah,” Juno said. “I know. That’s why we have to go through the next part. We probably won’t be able to avoid confrontation forever, so let’s talk about what you do if someone’s coming at you.” She gestured to her pet, Skitter. “C’m’ere, Skitter. Will you help me demonstrate?”
Skitter yawned and trotted over to Juno. Mousy little Skitter was the most timid of all the girls’ pets—but when she got scared, nervous, or felt threatened, Skitter grew to ten times her usual size. The little trick had come in handy more than once during her and Juno’s life together.
