Holly Farb and the Princess of the Galaxy

by Gareth Wronski

  It was the most amazing thing Holly had ever seen. Which, she thought some more, wasn’t that impressive a fact. She hadn’t seen many amazing things in her life. Mostly her school, and her home, and her mother . . . and books . . . and . . .

  The ship’s console buzzed. A robotic voice blared out from the overhead speaker: “Attention, incoming vessel. You are entering a non-neutral territory. Please state your purpose.”

  Captain Bundleswirp pushed a button on the console and stated, “Travel Port 73, this is the Mighty Cactus reporting in. Ship ID number 56744444BG7.” She recited this from memory, which impressed Holly. She bet Bundleswirp could do well on tests. “We’re requesting a landing zone to deposit our current passengers and pick up the new batch. Name’s Bundleswirp, if that matters.”

  “Bundleswirp?” said the monotone voice from the speaker. “You old salty swog! It’s me, TECH-87. How ya been?”

  Bundleswirp closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her bulbous nose. “Oh, TECH-87, didn’t expect to run into you here.” She put her hand over the microphone on the console and turned to Holly. “It’s our former navigator bot. It has a faulty friendship core. You’ve never seen something so clingy.” She uncovered the microphone. “It’s good to see you’ve found work, TECH.”

  “Oh yeah, I’m doing really well,” said the robot. “After you banished me from your ship and I had that public meltdown where I accidentally destroyed that moon, I was returned to my manufacturer and a programmer helped me to do some soul-searching and become a better robot. For example, did you know robots don’t have souls, thus rendering soul-searching pointless? Wow, I did not know that. The programmers definitely helped me deal with some issues, let me tell you.”

  Holly raised an eyebrow. She and Bundleswirp exchanged glances.

  “Aye. So, uh, TECH-87,” said the captain, “how about that landing zone?”

  The robot was silent. Finally, after a long delay, it spoke. “Landing zone. Of course. Don’t have time to catch up with your old pal TECH-87. All business. Of course.”

  “Now, TECH, I never said that—”

  “You are permitted to land in Landing Zone 7, Dock B. Personnel will assist you upon arrival. As you wait for them, take a moment to consider how your actions affect others.” The speaker buzzed and the ship’s computer said, “Transmission ended.”

  Holly put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “So you knew that guy? Uh, I mean, robot?”

  Bundleswirp nodded. “Aye. Long story. It makes me glad robots can’t program themselves, though. Imagine what it’d do. . . . Probably follow me around, staring. Waiting. Following and staring, waiting and staring. Creepy.”

  Holly watched as Bundleswirp squished into the captain’s chair and grabbed hold of the ship’s controls. The space port grew larger and larger as they approached, the Mighty Cactus slowly gliding into the gaping hangar bay. Fifteen minutes later they had fully docked, and passengers began streaming off the ship, stacks of luggage hovering behind them a few inches off the ground. Holly joined up with Mr. Mendez and Chester, who were trying to blend in to the gathering crowd of chattering life-forms.

  Bundleswirp stood in the entrance and waved, her huge body taking up most of the doorframe. “Bye!” she shouted. “And good luck with your journey back to Earth! If you see an Earthling named Sean, tell him he owes me thirty credits!”

  A group of humans walked past and Holly watched them, narrowing her eyes. But before she could give too much thought to why other humans were in space, an orange rectangle on four legs bumped into her and squealed. Holly shook her head, barely believing where she was.

  “Mr. Mendez,” she said in a quiet voice, “can I ask you a question?”

  Her teacher smiled. “Of course. I’m sure your list of questions is growing at an alarming rate.”

  Holly hesitated. “How did you first get into space? I mean, originally? Or are you a . . . an—an extraterrestrial?”

  Mr. Mendez smiled. “A very good question, Ms. Farb. I’ll give you the short version. Do you remember when the chemistry club accidentally blew up Room 215, and now it smells like cabbages all the time? Well, I did something similar in college, except I accidentally teleported myself to the Star Academy’s cafeteria.” He chuckled to himself. “I didn’t have eyebrows for a year.”

  Holly nodded slowly, once again barely believing where she was.

  The passengers marched along the dock in a big, lopsided blob and then stopped at the exit. Holly stood on her tiptoes to get a glimpse at what was happening. Two tall, spindly green aliens were standing by the gate out of the hangar, their beady eyes scanning the faces of the passengers. They both wore shiny black vests and pants, and looked a bit like praying mantises in tuxedos. As Holly got closer, she could see their vests had a logo on them: a little gold sailboat in front of a ringed planet, over the words STELLAR SAILER CRUISE LINES. She tensed. These were the corporate drones Bundleswirp had warned them about.

  The line advanced. One of the Stellar Sailer insects stuck out a thin green arm and blocked Holly. Its skin was cold and glistening. She shivered.

  “Hello and please stop,” said the alien. “I am an employee of Stellar Sailer Cruise Lines. My associate here is also an employee of Stellar Sailer Cruise Lines. However, they are of a lower rank and therefore beneath me.”

  The other drone nodded solemnly. “I am worth far less than my associate. Do not even look at me.”

  “Uh,” said Holly. “Okay.” She felt bad for the other alien and wanted to tell it she thought it was worth something, but then she also didn’t want to offend it, so she just nodded.

  “As I have been explaining,” said the higher-ranked drone, “I am an employee of Stellar Sailer Cruise Lines. I have the important task of ensuring there are no contrabands or stowaways on our vessels. We are concerned about regulatory lawsuits. The current issue with so-called pirates has brought unwanted attention to our industry. Might I ask you a few questions?”

  Chester shook his head. “We’re in a hurry.”

  Mr. Mendez coughed into his fist.

  The alien blinked its many eyes. “I am afraid I must insist. Please do not take this the wrong way, but I am suspicious of you three life-forms and require reassurances if I am to permit you to leave. Please understand that this is merely my job, and failure to do my job will result in my associate eating me and taking my position.”

  The other alien looked up. “Please know that they are correct. I will eat them.”

  “Okay,” said Holly. “We’ll answer your questions.”

  “Ms. Farb . . . ,” said Mr. Mendez.

  “What?” she muttered. “I don’t want anyone to get eaten.”

  Mr. Mendez shook his head. Chester eyed the rest of the strange-looking passengers leaving the dock in a cheerful mob. His face took on a yearning expression that reminded Holly of the time she got lost on a field trip and wound up in a store that only sold cakes.

  “Excellent, and thank you,” said the first alien. “I do not want to be eaten, though I gladly would if Stellar Sailer Cruise Lines required it of me. My life is meaningless next to the profit margins of a company that runs cruises.”

  Holly had no idea what to say, so she nodded again.

  The alien clicked its tongue and the other alien clicked in return. Before Holly could wonder what they were saying to each other, the higher-ranked alien said, “My first question is this: What is your species? I am unfamiliar with semihairless bipedals that have fewer than four eyes and”—it glanced around at her back—“no tail.”

  “We’re humans,” said Holly. “From the planet Earth.”

  The alien clicked to itself. “I have heard of that planet, though I have never met an actual Earth human before. My corporate training included skills on dealing with other species, and I am familiar with many Earth customs and languages.” It thought for a moment. “Pasta is my cowabunga. Nice weather we’re having in Australia, am I partially diseased? Tennis killed my father.�
��

  Holly stared at the alien, which thrust out its chest and spread its mouth wide in a weird sort of grin, obviously pleased with itself. “That’s . . . really good,” she said. “You sound like a human.”

  It nodded enthusiastically. “Even though humans are a subspecies three levels beneath me, I will take that as a compliment. Thank you, and yes. My second question is this: Why are you on this ship?”

  “We’re, uh, a family of wealthy tourists,” said Holly, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “From Earth,” added Chester. “Looking for adventure.”

  Mr. Mendez nodded. “I’m their grandfather. These are my grandchildren, Holly and Chuck.”

  “Chester.”

  “Right.”

  The aliens clicked at each other. “I see,” said the higher-ranked drone. “I have one final question before I allow you to depart.” It peered down at them, mouth inches from Holly’s face. “Where is your luggage? All the other passengers have luggage, yet you three have none.”

  Holly froze. Mr. Mendez glanced at Chester, who glanced at Holly, who tried desperately to come up with an answer that was logical and would satisfy the aliens. Perhaps their luggage was invisible? No, that was silly. For the first time in her life, she felt like she and logic weren’t getting along too well. The alien’s beady black eyes blinked at her. Her stomach twisted. Finally she decided logic was pointless. There’s no point for logic in a universe that has none.

  “Humans don’t need luggage,” she said reasonably. “We carry things inside ourselves.”

  The aliens huddled together and clicked furiously at each other. The higher-ranked one straightened up and faced Holly. “Please empty yourself so that we may examine your belongings.”

  Holly crossed her arms. “No. You have no right to search my belongings. When we paid good money to Stellar Sailer Cruise Lines, we had no idea we would receive this treatment.”

  “Yes,” said Chester, grinning at Holly. “This is—this is just shabby. Poor customer service.”

  The second alien clicked angrily at the first, who clicked back. It turned to Holly. “I am afraid I do not trust you, Earth human. In accordance with my corporate training, I am going to have to—”

  The second alien unhinged its jaw and latched its mouth around the head of the higher-ranked alien, biting it off with a crunch. The headless alien flopped to the ground and the second alien bent over and slurped up the body.

  Holly, Mr. Mendez, and Chester stared in horror. No one moved. The only sound was the loud gulp of the alien swallowing.

  “I apologize for my former colleague,” said the remaining alien, straightening itself up. “But they violated the rights of a passenger, and in accordance with Stellar Sailer Cruise Lines’ rules and regulations, I had to replace them. Please accept the apology of the Stellar Sailer Cruise Lines CEO for any inconvenience you have received.” It reached a spindly green hand into its vest and pulled out a piece of paper, which it handed to Holly. “And please accept this coupon for a free meal on your next cruise. Thank you, Earth humans, for flying with Stellar Sailer Cruise Lines. If you fill out a customer satisfaction survey, I am named Employee 1728.”

  The alien bent over, vomited out a tuxedo, and walked away.

  Holly stood silently for a moment, contemplating what she had just witnessed.

  “That was amazing,” said Chester. “This is the best line I’ve ever been in.”

  He ran to join the rest of the passengers filing into the port. Taking a deep breath, Holly pried herself away from the glistening, crumpled tuxedo on the ground, and followed.

  “I’m glad we finally got out of that line,” she muttered.

  * * *

  They got into another line.

  The space port was cavernous, and as they waited for the new line to move, Holly felt like she was inside the stomach of a gigantic concrete animal. It was the biggest indoor area she had ever seen. It was bigger than a lot of outdoor areas she had seen. Aliens bustled everywhere, getting into lines or getting out of them. A maze of lines zigzagged every direction. It was like an entire world of lines. Strange languages—shouts and clicks and groans—bounced off one another and echoed around. As their line advanced through the port entrance, Holly craned her neck back and looked at the large sign overhead: THE FEDERATION ORGANIZATION OF UNITED PLANETS, STARS, AND PLANETOID OBJECTS.

  Mr. Mendez noticed where she was looking and said, “Ah, the F.O.U.P.S.P.O. We’re in good hands now, Ms. Farb. That’s the central government of the entire universe, led by our mighty and benevolent President. All we have to do is acquire tickets and we can go back to Earth. Our adventure is almost over.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” muttered Chester.

  “Yes it does,” said Holly. “I’m all adventured out. I’ve seen enough things eat other things for a lifetime.”

  Mr. Mendez left to get tickets in a line branching out of their line. Holly and Chester stood and waited as the crowd slowly advanced. Holly’s eyes widened. Some of the lines in the port stretched up the wall, all the way to the ceiling. She didn’t even want to consider how that was possible.

  “Do you think he’ll get the tickets?” said Holly, concerned someone in one of the ceiling lines might suddenly fall and crush her.

  Chester watched as a huge, slimy alien slithered past. Two smaller versions of it slid rapidly after it to catch up. Chester shrugged and said, “Why wouldn’t he get them?”

  “I don’t know.” Holly frowned. “How much does it cost? Will he have enough money? Don’t we need papers or something? What about passports? You know, space passports?”

  “I’m sure he’ll work something out,” said Chester, bowing his head and sighing. He pulled at the loose skin on his arm.

  Holly pursed her lips. “Don’t you want to go home?”

  “I’d rather stay here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because look around you.” He waved his hand at the surrounding lines, full of impossibly odd aliens. “My whole life I’ve been cooped up in rooms, doing what people tell me, and now we’re in a space station full of amazing things. Where are you ever going to see anything like this?” He pointed at a three-headed orange-and-blue squid bobbing along. “Look at that thing. It looks so weird!”

  The alien’s heads turned toward Chester. It burst into tears and shuffled away, shouting, “I’m perfectly normal!”

  Holly crossed her arms. “Well, I have things to do. I have a test this Friday that I absolutely have to do well on. It’s one of the three most important tests I’ve ever had to take. It’s the last step to getting in to Falstaff. The last step. If I don’t get back to take that test, and I don’t do well on that test, I’ll have to stay at my current school. Do you think I’m going to get in to a good university if all I have to show is a ninety-six percent average in seventh grade?”

  Chester scrunched up his face. “I don’t know. Probably?”

  “Well, you’re wrong.” She glared at him. “Life isn’t just about adventures and weird aliens. Life is about responsibility and achievement and . . . and tests! Imagine if I can’t get in to Falstaff Academy for Gifted Youths. Imagine if I can’t get in to an accredited science program. Imagine if Einstein had failed science!”

  Chester stared at a group of huge translucent slugs passing by. “I bet Einstein would rather have seen these things than take a test. But I don’t know who that is, so . . .”

  Holly nearly fell over. “You don’t know who Einstein is?”

  He shrugged, and pulled at the skin on his arm again. “Based on context, he’s a scientist.”

  “Oh, Chester,” she said tragically, staring at him. She was starting to think he had gotten lucky answering those questions in class. “You haven’t even heard about him in a movie or something?”

  “I’ve never seen a movie.”

  Holly’s eyes bugged out. Just when she was about to say more, Mr. Mendez stepped out of a line merging into theirs and stood next to them. �
��Good news,” he said, holding up three long slips of paper. “I procured tickets to Earth.”

  “How did you pay for those?” asked Holly.

  “Pay?” Mr. Mendez blinked. “Space travel is free, Ms. Farb—it’s a fundamental right. The F.O.U.P.S.P.O. would never make you pay to travel. The President would be breaking a campaign promise. Don’t be absurd.”

  Chester muttered something, but Holly couldn’t make it out.

  “Now,” said Mr. Mendez, looking around at the various gates until his eyes landed on Gate 92. He smiled and pointed at the long line of humans and the odd alien assembled in front of it. “There it is. Right through there is a ship that will take us to Earth. Just six more lines and we’re home.”

  * * *

  Interesting factoid: The Federation Organization of United Planets, Stars, and Planetoid Objects, or F.O.U.P.S.P.O., is the intergalactic body that governs all known planets in the universe. The organization’s headquarters is located on the moon Bagathon IV, the fourth moon of the planet Oop. Most of the leaders of the F.O.U.P.S.P.O. are duly elected by each planet in the federation, where almost the entire population of the planet turns out to vote. This fact may startle humans, who have grown accustomed to elections determined by 30 percent of the population. If you are startled, take a deep breath and try not to die.

  Each election is a celebration of the intergalactic spirit that has spread throughout the universe following the centuries-long Galaxy Wars. Incalculable numbers of lives were obliterated during the conflict, which few now even remember the cause of. Humans may be less startled by this. If you are not startled, say a celebratory “Hurrah!” and try not to die.

  However, despite the spread of democracy, some planets still decide their F.O.U.P.S.P.O. representatives the old-fashioned ways: wars, lotteries, or inheritance. The latter is especially important for the purposes of this story.

  For you see, prior to the events of Holly Farb being kidnapped by space pirates—a tale that I have skillfully recounted to you as efficiently as my programming will allow—one such leader ascended to a position of power. It happened on the planet of Quartle, in the Quartle Galaxy, known by many as the most technologically advanced civilization in the universe, famous for their inventions that beguile and intrigue—and terrify.