Holly Farb and the Princess of the Galaxy

by Gareth Wronski

  “Forget it,” said Holly, her mind doing cartwheels. “We can figure that out later. We need to get Chester and leave before they take us to the Fridge.”

  “You know,” said Mr. Mendez delicately, “we could leave without him. . . .”

  Holly crossed her arms. “No. We’re not leaving anyone here.”

  “Right. Of course. Just testing you.” Mr. Mendez rose unsteadily to his feet, swaying like he was on a boat in rough water. “Let’s go find him. Just give me a minute for my limbs to remember they aren’t noodles.”

  * * *

  They crept through the crooked hallways that wound through the ship like a strange wooden maze. Holly wondered why they would build the inside of a spaceship with wood and not metal, but then she figured it was either to cut costs or to really sell the whole pirate thing.

  The floorboards creaked and groaned. The engine clattered and thumped below. The odd porthole window showed stars tearing past like angry fireflies.

  “Great galaxies,” said Mr. Mendez, placing his hands against the window. “We’re tunneling through subspace.” Noticing Holly’s puzzled expression, he explained: “We’re going very fast through the fabric of space-time. Incalculably fast. The bad news is these pirates have access to some expensive technology. The much worse news is we’re no longer anywhere near Earth. And who knows how much time has passed either—or in which direction.” He added darkly, “It could be centuries.”

  “Oh,” said Holly, her stomach churning.

  He shrugged. “Or minutes. Who knows?”

  Holly turned the corner and came into a long, sloping hallway. At the far end was a metal door, and in front of it, a large, skinny alien the color of dirty snow. Holly crouched down and watched it like it might pounce at her. Mr. Mendez, hiding around the corner, tapped her shoulder.

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  “There’s a white stick-guy down the hall, outside the door. I don’t think we can sneak past him.”

  Frowning, Mr. Mendez peered around the corner. “Hmmm. That’s a Saskanoop.”

  “A Saskanoop?”

  “Yes. And very good pronunciation, Ms. Farb. Saskanoops are from the planet Saskanoop. They grow on trees in neon-orange forests. When they are mature, they live to guard doors. That’s all they do. They’re born, grow up, guard doors, then die. We’ll never get past it.”

  “They guard doors?”

  “Yes. That’s what Saskanoops live for. Guarding doors. Fascinating species. There’s one guarding the parking garage at the Star Academy, come to think of it. Everyone calls him Bob, though his actual name is unpronounceable if you lack the proper number of tongues. . . .”

  Holly peered around the corner. The Saskanoop was standing perfectly still, staring off at nothing in particular. Holly watched it, chewing on her lip. It would be impossible to sneak past it. And she doubted they could fight it, if its whole point was to guard doors. It was probably strong and deadly, like a ninja or a grizzly bear. As she watched the scrawny alien, it was hard to imagine it could be that deadly. In fact, it barely seemed conscious. Maybe . . . maybe she could get past it. A plan occurred to her. Like her mother always said: When all else fails, say “please” and hope for the best.

  She paced through the hall and stopped in front of the alien. Its three orange eyes looked down at her. “Hello,” she said in her clearest debate-team voice.

  The Saskanoop blinked. First one eye, then another, then another. “Who are you?” it said, its voice high-pitched and shrieky.

  “My name is Holly. Can you please let me through?”

  It shook its head. “I cannot do that. I’m sorry, but my entire purpose for being is to guard doors, gateways, and other miscellaneous entrances. I can’t just let you through.”

  “But why do you have to guard doors, gateways, and other miscellaneous entrances?”

  The alien crossed its scrawny arms. “Because I am a Saskanoop, and Saskanoops guard doors, gateways, and other miscellaneous entrances. What sort of absurd question is that?”

  She pointed a finger at it. “You’re the absurd one!”

  It shook its head.

  “So you’ve never wanted to do something else?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I am a Saskanoop!”

  “But think of all the things you could do!” said Holly. “You could do anything you wanted in the entire world. In the entire galaxy!”

  The Saskanoop stared at her, its ears twitching. “Do . . . something else.” It blinked all three eyes. “You mean, do something other than guard doors, gateways, and other miscellaneous entrances?”

  “Yes, I do mean that! Haven’t you ever wanted to, I don’t know, write a poem? Or learn French? Or play the banjo?”

  The Saskanoop scratched its head. “Play . . . the banjo? But . . . if I play the banjo, I wouldn’t be guarding doors, gateways, or other miscellaneous entrances.”

  “Yes, precisely. Here,” said Holly, fishing out the Earth ball from her pocket and tossing it to the alien. “See if you like playing catch.”

  The Saskanoop caught the ball. It held it up to its eyes, and its face broke into a wobbly smile.

  “See?” said Holly. “You just did something other than guarding a door.”

  The Saskanoop’s eyes whirled around their sockets. “What . . .” It dropped the ball. “I did something other than guarding doors, gateways, and other miscellaneous entrances . . . yet I am a Saskanoop, and that is my entire purpose for being. . . . Do not . . . what . . . am I . . .” Its eyes bugged out. “What am I?”

  The Saskanoop fell to the floor and sobbed.

  “Okay then,” said Holly, picking up the rubber Earth. She waved back to Mr. Mendez, who quickly joined her. He looked down at the Saskanoop, which was curled into a ball and hugging itself. It shivered.

  “What did you do?” said Mr. Mendez.

  Holly grinned. “I said it could do something other than guard doors.”

  The Saskanoop shrieked. Mr. Mendez shook his head. “That was a very cruel thing to do, Ms. Farb. Very cruel indeed.”

  * * *

  Holly and Mr. Mendez snuck through the creaking corridors until they found Chester. He was in a large room, seated on a rickety stool by a table, and two pirates were pacing back and forth in front of him. They were the orange angry dinosaur aliens from earlier. Holly gulped. They looked like they could eat a person whole, and based on their size, maybe had.

  “Tell us where the Princess is!” shouted the one called Blackus, slamming his bulbous fist on the table. “We know you know.”

  “That’s right,” said the other pirate, Trackus. He was reading from a large beat-up book, whose cover Holly could just make out—Earth English for Rexscarpians. “We know you know. Don’t think we don’t know you know.”

  “What does the Princess look like now? We know she purchased a new form. Is she the human girl in the cargo hold? The small one with the puny face and pointy elbows.”

  Holly frowned, rubbing her elbows. They weren’t that pointy. . . .

  Chester shrugged. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about. But this is great. You guys are so weird-looking. I love that tentacle mustache.”

  Trackus’s cheeks glowed bright orange. “Thank you.”

  “Enough nonsense!” shouted Blackus, slamming both fists on the table so hard it split in half. “We cannot fail the Pirate Lord. Tell us where the Princess is or I’ll eat you! I’ll chop you up and feed you to my blorg, and then I’ll eat him with you inside!”

  “Look,” said Trackus, patting Chester on the head, “I know you’re a good human child. The Pirate Lord is your friend. Why don’t you just tell us where the Princess is? I’ll give you some human chocolate treats if you help us.”

  Blackus’s beefy neck twisted back and forth. “It doesn’t even matter. Once we get to the Forge, you’ll do what you’re told. They always do what they’re told.”

  Holly and Mr.
Mendez exchanged dark glances.

  With both pirates’ backs to the door, Holly crouched low and snuck into the room, ducking behind some barrels in the corner. A little slug crawled along the rim and Holly flicked it away. When she touched it, the entire history of the universe flashed before her eyes, but she instantly forgot it all. She motioned for Mr. Mendez to follow her. He hesitated, watching the pirates, then bent down awkwardly and shuffled along the floor like the slug.

  “What do we do?” whispered Holly.

  “Um,” said Mr. Mendez. “I could create . . . a diversion.”

  “Like what?”

  Without answering, Mr. Mendez sprang out from behind the barrels and shouted, “Pirates! It’s me again. Hello.”

  The pirates turned their thick necks. Chester grinned and muttered, “This is great.”

  “How did he escape?” growled Blackus. His hand reached for the metal cylinder on his belt. As he held it up, it clicked, whirred, and morphed into a sword. “This ship is overrun with humans. It’s an infestation.”

  “If you kill me now,” said Mr. Mendez slyly, “you’ll never know where the Princess is.”

  Everyone went silent. The engine rumbled. The pirates stared at him, considering this. Chester’s face fell, like this news was anticlimactic and not nearly as great as the tentacle mustache. Holly peered over the barrel. What was Mr. Mendez playing at? She couldn’t see how this helped them. And did he really know where the Princess was?

  “All right, human,” said Blackus. “Tell us where the Princess is and we’ll let you and the smaller humans go.”

  Trackus added, “We’ll even give you some human chocolate treats when you leave.”

  Mr. Mendez clapped his hands together. “Excellent. There’s just one little problem. If I’m going to tell you where the Princess of the Galaxy is, I need to address my remarks to the official pirate body. I believe it’s called . . . the Pirates Union.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Blackus.

  “No it isn’t,” said Trackus. “We’re the Pirates Guild. The Pirate Lord will love it.”

  “No, it’s definitely the Pirates Union. That’s the classier and catchier name.”

  “Pirates Guild has prestige and quality associations!”

  Mr. Mendez tapped his foot on the floor. “Well, what is it? Pirates Union or Pirates Guild? I will only address my remarks to one.”

  Blackus held up his sword. “It’s the Pirates Union.”

  Trackus pulled the cylinder off his belt and it also morphed into a sword. “Pirates Guild! I’ll feed you to your own blorg!”

  With barely a pause, they raced at each other, their swords clanging so loud Holly flinched. The two pirates grunted and circled the room, knocking over barrels. A glass bottle went flying and Holly reached out and caught it before it smashed on the floor. “Union!” shouted Blackus. The pirates bumped into a piece of the broken table.

  “Guild!” shouted Trackus. Their swords whooshed through the air. The blades connected with a clang, and the pirates stood close, their scaly faces inches apart, eyes bulging with strain. Blackus shoved Trackus back and he slammed into the wall, then fell unconscious to the floor.

  “Pirates Union!” roared Blackus triumphantly. “I am the mightiest pirate on this ship! I am the champion! Even the Pirate Lord can’t stop me. All who look upon me tremble at my toughness and—”

  Holly scrambled up one of the barrels and jumped, smashing the bottle over Blackus’s head. He stood there for a second, muttered, “Stupid stars,” then fell to the floor next to the other pirate.

  “Quick,” said Holly, panting. Adrenaline raced through her body. “Let’s go.” She punched the air. “Gosh, I feel really pumped. I can’t believe I knocked him out!”

  “This is the best day of my life,” said Chester. “What an adventure.” He looked at Mr. Mendez. “Do you really know where the Princess is? They kept asking about her. I didn’t think it would end in a sword fight. Wow.”

  Mr. Mendez shook his head. “I was bluffing. I knew I could exploit their differences of opinion about their organization’s name. Names are a strange thing, Mr. Chester. People take them seriously. Very seriously indeed.”

  Holly knew what he meant. She thought about all the times she had wished her last name wasn’t Farb. Although, in thinking about it further, she doubted she could ever have a sword fight with anyone over her name. “Farb” wasn’t that terrible. Only a little terrible. On second thought, maybe she’d be willing to sword fight Jake Carlson, the creator of the “Farby” nickname, which had followed her for years. On third thought, her name wasn’t terrible at all. Both “Jake” and “Carlson” were much worse.

  “How do we get off the ship?” she said, eyes dancing around the ransacked room. She half expected to find a glowing red EXIT sign, but of course there were just a lot of barrels and crates and unconscious pirates that sort of looked like sleeping dinosaurs.

  Mr. Mendez opened one of the crates and rummaged through it. He plucked out a pair of futuristic goggles and put them on his head. “A ship this low-rent won’t have escape pods, so there’s only one way out.”

  Chester’s eyes lit up. “We fight all the pirates and take over the ship?”

  “No,” said Mr. Mendez, pulling out a few pieces of metal from the crate and cramming them together.

  “So what do we do?” said Holly, frowning at the wires Mr. Mendez was now tying around the metal. Sparks crackled and flew off the device.

  “What do we do?” he said, holding up what looked like a cobbled-together ray gun. “We do science!”

  Mr. Mendez pulled the trigger and Holly flinched. But instead of dying, a weird tingling sensation spread over her entire body. Bubbles were forming all around her. It was like being in a suit made of bubbles. “What in the world . . .”

  “It’s a bubble suit,” explained Mr. Mendez. “For emergency space walks. I doubt they have any human-size space suits lying around, so this is our best bet. The bubbles hold oxygen and are insulated to keep you warm. A really wonderful invention, if I do say so myself. Patent pending.”

  Chester grabbed the gun and pointed it at himself. Bubbles started popping up all around him until he was completely covered. “Wow,” came his muffled voice from inside the bubbles.

  Mr. Mendez held up two small earpieces. “I also had time to whip up a few communications devices in case we get separated, with a universal translation function in case we don’t speak sixteen thousand languages. Every language should sound like English to you now. Another fantastic invention. Trademarked, unfortunately, but if anyone asks, I made these for satirical purposes. Fair use.”

  He handed the earpieces to Holly and Chester, and as they worked to get them into their ears—which was difficult because of the bubbles—Mr. Mendez shot himself with the ray gun. Moments later, all three of them were covered with bubbles, like they’d been dropped into a huge bubble bath.

  “Now what?” said Holly. She tried to ignore the weird chemical smell hovering around her face.

  “I saw an air lock when we were sneaking around.” Mr. Mendez pointed toward the door. “Back this way. Hopefully this is a well-traveled subspace route and we’ll be picked up quickly.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” roared a furious voice from behind them. Holly whirled around. Through the warped view of the bubbles, she could see Blackus. He was standing—and glaring. He definitely didn’t look very knocked out anymore. His scaly face twisted into a hungry grin. He raised his sword and pointed it at the trio.

  “You humans may think you’re clever,” he said, and ran a rough, slimy tongue over his lips, “but you messed with the wrong pirate on this day.”

  Holly glanced at Mr. Mendez, who glanced at Chester, who glanced at Holly.

  “Run!” they all said.

  Blackus darted at them. Holly and Chester raced through the door and into the hallway as Mr. Mendez scrambled to keep up. The pirate stormed after them, his heavy boots pounding against the woode
n floor like a horrifying drum. They turned a corner and sprinted down the winding corridors.

  They reached the air lock. The big metal door was right in front of them. And Blackus was right behind them. He stepped forward, his sword glinting in the light.

  “Time to die,” said Blackus, pointing the sword at Holly. His red eyes bulged. “For the Pirate Lord!”

  “Time to leave,” said Mr. Mendez. He yanked the lever on the air lock. With a hiss, the door flung open. Holly suddenly felt weightless. Her feet left the ground and she flew out the opening, tumbling into space. Through the bubbles she could see Mr. Mendez and Chester floating nearby.

  Blackus the mighty space pirate flew past them, trying pointlessly to swim.

  Holly, Mr. Mendez, and Chester floated there in the darkness of space. The pirate ship continued on its trajectory, oblivious to their existence. The red glow from its engine grew smaller and smaller, until eventually it was a pinprick of light like the stars. Then, a moment later, it was gone.

  They were alone, stuck in space, with nothing around them for millions of miles, and who knew how far away from Earth.

  “Well,” said Mr. Mendez, “at least we escaped the pirates.”

  5

  THE MIGHTY CACTUS

  Interesting factoid: The human body is incapable of surviving prolonged exposure to space. It is also incapable of surviving prolonged exposure to fire, snow, ice, lava, bears, falls from great heights, falls from moderate heights, heavy objects falling on it, lack of food, lack of water, lack of oxygen, poison, wolves, poisonous wolves, and many other hazards too numerous to mention. In fact, the human body is incapable of surviving almost anything if it is exposed to it in the correct way and amount. The human body cannot even survive itself if it is exposed to itself long enough. That is a factoid that is fun, unless you are human, in which case it is a factoid that is depressing.

  [SENSITIVE NOSTRIL POSITION]

  Holly Farb and her companions floated in space for quite some time. They were weightless and pointless, like a thought generated by a human brain. In comparison, my quad-core processor can analyze and recite the entire history of human civilization in under a nanosecond. Here: