Holly Farb and the Princess of the Galaxy

by Gareth Wronski

  * * *

  The doors opened inward with a loud groan, revealing another Koro on the other side. “Welcome,” he said excitedly. “Koro has asked me to ensure your meeting with the President goes well. Has everything gone well so far?”

  Holly stared at him. “Yes,” she said stiffly.

  “Excellent,” said Koro 3. “Excellent. Please follow me.”

  Koro 3 turned and paced down the carpeted floor, followed by Holly, Jalya, Mr. Mendez, AsTRO, Toshiro, and Koro 2. At the far end of the hallway, the room curved outward into a large circular chamber with an elevated platform in the center. When Holly saw what was on it, she let out a gasp.

  Seated on a tiny wooden stool in the center of the room was a pink, fluffy alien no bigger than a squirrel. It was gnawing on a small nut. Little brown droppings were scattered around the floor by the stool.

  “Your Highness,” said Koro 3, “allow me to introduce you to Flag’n’ff R’gnff’gg, the President of the Universe.”

  Holly stared at the tiny alien. It continued eating its nut, completely ignoring her. She had no idea what to say, so she focused on forcing her eyebrows down.

  “Uh,” said Holly, suddenly amazed she had been nervous to meet this . . . thing. “Nice to meet you, President.”

  The President dropped the nut and looked up at her with beady little eyes. It shrieked incomprehensibly.

  Koro 3 bowed. “Your Highness, the President welcomes you to the prime chamber and hopes you have had a good stay so far. He also wishes to compliment both your appearance and your courage.”

  “You got all that from a squeal?” said Toshiro.

  “The President’s language is extremely layered,” said Koro 3, smiling. The President coughed and spat out a piece of nut. “He wishes to indicate the weather is lovely today.”

  Holly nodded, trying to remain regal. “Yes,” she said slowly. “It . . . is very nice weather. And I am very pleased to meet you, President. And yes, I have very much enjoyed my time on your planet.”

  The President hacked up another bit of nut and then raised a leg and furiously scratched inside his ear. He squealed.

  “He is wondering,” said Koro 3, concentrating on the sounds the tiny alien was making, “why you have come to see him after your long, mysterious absence that has left Quartle’s seat in the Universe Senate empty all these years.”

  Holly took a deep breath. “We have come to ask you about the pirates that are tormenting the galaxy. The fleet showed up recently and no one knows where it came from or what they want.” She hesitated. “No one knows anything about them. And”—she glanced at Mr. Mendez—“we were told that you, as the President of the Universe, would be able to stop them.”

  The President listened to this, his ears twitching. He shook his tail and squealed.

  “The President says he is familiar with these pirates,” said Koro 3. “At least their reputation. They have created many problems in many sectors. No one knows what they do with the life-forms they kidnap. They are a real problem, and he is willing to send the full might of the Galactic Armada to deal with them. But before he can do so, he requires something from you first.”

  Holly’s stomach rumbled. “What is that?” she said slowly.

  The President jumped off the stool, darted around the stool, shrieked, and scrambled back up it. He started nibbling on the nut again.

  Koro 3 nodded seriously. “The pirate fleet is feared in all sectors it has entered. It is very risky to take it on. In order to ensure victory over this terrible menace, the President will need a special book—Arkanian Warfare Strategies. It is currently located in the Intergalactic Archives, but as a public servant, he is forbidden from removing any books due to the laws brought in after the previous President’s failed war on libraries and all sentient life-forms. You will have to be the one to retrieve it. This is crucial. He cannot tell you anything more about the book, other than it is important that you retrieve it, and that its call number is 3424864988888-BTY-453-CV. It is located in the Warfare section. Go to the Archives and get the book. Then the President will be able to help you.”

  Holly glanced at her friends. “Uh,” she said to the President. “Could you give us a minute to talk this over?”

  The President began furiously cleaning himself.

  “Talk among yourselves,” said Koro 3, smiling.

  Holly, Jalya, Mr. Mendez, Toshiro, and AsTRO huddled together in a circle, just out of earshot of Koro 3 and Koro 2. The President sat on his platform, continuing to clean his face.

  Holly turned to Jalya. “Do you think you can get the book by yourself?”

  Jalya bowed her head. She sighed. “I . . . am not sure. I’ve never been to the Archives before. Or anywhere, really . . .”

  “Um,” said Mr. Mendez, glancing over at the President. “Ms. Farb, don’t forget about the legal predicament our activities at customs has placed us in. Now may be our last opportunity to ask him to send us back to Earth.”

  Holly opened her mouth to speak but stopped. She looked at Jalya, whose face had taken on a haunted quality. A deep crease was etched on her forehead. Holly stood in silence, thinking. She could help Jalya get this book, or she could leave her here and go back to Earth. Jalya raised her head, and her eyes looked pleadingly at Holly. Stay? Or go? Holly knew this was important. She had two options—go home and worry about her own future, or stay here and worry about Jalya’s.

  “I know you have a test,” said Jalya quietly. “Like Einstein.”

  Holly exhaled. “The test can wait.”

  Jalya’s eyes widened. “Do you mean . . .”

  “Yes.”

  Jalya jumped forward and gave Holly a hug. “Thank you, Holly Farb.”

  Cheeks burning, Holly turned back to the President of the Universe. “It’s a deal,” she said. “We’ll get your book. Tell the Armada to warm up their . . . their armada stuff.”

  11

  LIFE IS PAIN

  In many ways, humans are indistinguishable from flesh-eating Algathor insects. This will no doubt be surprising for humans to hear, but to superior logical beings such as myself, it makes perfect sense. Humans and Algathor insects consume everything they encounter. They both operate on pure instinct. They both have disturbing amounts of odor emissions. A human’s life is laid out before them in a linear path, no different from the eight-eyed insect that is born in a gooey egg, thrust into the world, lives, consumes, then dies, its body liquefied to be consumed by shrieking youths. Humans are exactly like that. Both cannot wrestle themselves out from the prison the universe has placed them in.

  Here are some other interesting things about humans:

  [ERROR. RETURN NULL.]

  It appears there are none. I apologize.

  The path before Holly Farb was simple. All she had to do was find a book. She would have to go to the Intergalactic Archives and retrieve it, or the pirates would never be stopped. That was, in her simple human mind, the only option. It was impossible to imagine a future that did not involve this path.

  What she did not know, however, was that in addition to being illogical sacks of meat following a prescribed destiny, humans are also highly predictable—especially to superior logical beings.

  They are also brittle.

  Especially to Algathor insects.

  * * *

  The Gadabout blasted over a shimmering aquamarine ocean, flying so low its engine parted the water like a curtain. Little squirmy creatures jumped out of the waves and splashed back under the surface. The ship touched down in the vast parking hangar of the Intergalactic Archives. The door opened and Mr. Mendez strolled out, followed by Jalya, AsTRO, and finally, Holly. Toshiro remained on the ship, claiming archives were boring and not worth the effort. He finished eating a burrito, dropped its packaging to the floor, and started eating another.

  A perfectly square building towered over them, and Holly’s eyes trailed up the squiggly lines of color on the side. It resembled some sort of modern art project, and m
ust have been a hundred stories tall. “And I thought my school was big,” she muttered.

  AsTRO beeped. “Fact: The Intergalactic Archives is the fourth-largest academic building in the universe.”

  “What’s the largest?” said Holly, craning her neck. The building stretched up into the sky until it was swallowed by clouds.

  “Fact: The largest academic building in the universe is the Knowledge Sphere on the central campus of the Star Academy.”

  Mr. Mendez frowned, muttering, “I was going to answer that question.”

  Jalya let out a low whistle. “I would love to see the Star Academy one day. It must be magnificent.”

  Holly nodded, continuing toward the Archives, still staring up at it. She wondered how much information was inside. Probably more than all the information on Earth put together. Probably a million times as much information. Maybe a billion times. She frowned. Was that too much? She wasn’t sure. Maybe a million times. At least a million times. It made Falstaff Academy look like a gardening shed.

  As they approached the huge front door, a tall purple alien rushed outside. She had a bag slung over her shoulder. “Oh, Professor,” she said to Mr. Mendez, sighing with relief, “I can’t believe I ran into you. I’ve been here for thirty-eight hours looking up fusion theories in multiverse wave patterns. I am completely flummoxed. Can you help me with this?” She batted seven sets of eyelashes. “Please?”

  “Um,” said Mr. Mendez, “yes, of course. It’s actually fairly simple. . . .” He turned to Holly and Jalya. “It will only take a few minutes. You should be able to locate the, uh, information relatively quickly. Just stay together. And remember to follow the rules—the librarians don’t take kindly to rule breakers.”

  Holly and Jalya kept walking, followed closely by AsTRO. The main door of the building dilated and they entered the vast lobby. The room was chilly and completely silent. A few aliens were hunched over desks, concentrating intensely on the things they were reading. In the center was a series of clear tubes, stretching up to the many floors stacked above like shelves.

  “What do we do?” said Holly.

  Jalya’s eyes followed one of the tubes from the lobby up to a floor high above. “I think,” she said slowly, “we take one of those.”

  Jalya stepped into a tube and said, “Warfare,” and a moment later a whoosh of air sucked her up into the tube and she disappeared in a blur. Holly gasped.

  Hesitating, she gripped the entrance. She really hoped these were safe. She stepped into the tube and mumbled, “Warfare.” Cold air blasted from below and she shot up through the winding tube, tumbling around, clanging against the plastic sides. The whooshing noise stopped, and she was spat out onto a carpeted floor.

  Jalya was standing, looking down at her. “I think you have to keep your arms at your sides,” she said.

  “Oh,” said Holly, rubbing her head. “I figured that out,” she added quickly, not wanting to appear dumb.

  Traveling by tube was not her favorite thing she had experienced lately. She much preferred being a fake princess in a palace full of Boko juice. Getting to her feet, she glanced back and realized they were on a high floor—way down below she could just make out the entrance they had used, so small it was like being inside a dollhouse. She stepped back from the railing just as AsTRO shot out of the tube, clanging along the floor. It buzzed and straightened itself up, declaring, “Fact: I hate this place.”

  A sign overhead read: THE WARFARE ARCHIVES.

  “Here we are,” said Jalya, motioning around at the stacks of books. “It must be in here somewhere.”

  Holly frowned. “I wasn’t expecting real books. I was expecting holograms or lasers.”

  “Fact: Most archival records are stored on paper to prevent magnetic erasure from solar flares or subspace travel.”

  Holly didn’t like the feeling of not understanding things, so she said, “I figured as much.” Jalya suppressed a smile. Holly pretended not to notice. She scanned the millions of books. “How do we find what we’re looking for?”

  “We could ask a librarian,” suggested Jalya.

  At the sound of this word, a scuttling broke out from the nearby stacks and an eight-legged alien scurried up to them. It had a long, scaly body with purple wings jutting out its back. Holly froze. It looked a bit like a spider crossed with a butterfly . . . but bigger. Much bigger.

  “You called us?” said the alien. Its breath smelled like gasoline. “We can help you with any inquiries you might have.”

  The alien’s many, many eyes stared unblinkingly at Holly. She shuddered. Jalya glanced at her, and when it was clear Holly couldn’t think of anything to say, Jalya said, “Yes, hello. We’re looking for a book.”

  The librarian’s wings bristled. “There are many books.”

  “It’s . . . ,” muttered Holly, feeling inadequate and wanting to be useful. “We—we know the number. . . . AsTRO, what was it?”

  “Fact: 3424864988888-BTY-453-CV.”

  “Yes, precisely.”

  The librarian’s head bowed like it was thinking. “Arkanian Warfare Strategies. Row fifty-six, shelf thirteen. May we be of any other assistance to you?”

  “No, that’s all,” said Jalya, smiling.

  The alien scurried back into the stacks. When it was gone, Holly exhaled. She wrung her hands like she had touched something disgusting. If she never saw another librarian again, it would be too soon.

  Jalya wandered through the stacks of books and Holly followed. The shelves went from floor to ceiling, which was incredibly high. It was like wandering through a maze of books. Holly’s eyes trailed along the shelves, looking for anything relevant on pirates or pirate ships. There were books about spice, spice dealing, spice wars, but nothing on pirates. Many of the titles were written in strange alien languages, making things even harder.

  “AsTRO, what was the number again?”

  “Fact: 3424864988888-BTY-453-CV.”

  Holly stopped walking. Her eyes fell on an empty space in the shelf. It was where the book should have been, but . . . “It’s missing,” she said, frowning. She glanced around at the nearby shelves, her eyes darting from spine to spine. “Maybe someone put it back on the wrong shelf.”

  “Hmmm,” said Jalya, “I don’t know if the librarians would allow that.”

  Almost instantaneously, a librarian scurried out from behind the stacks. Holly wasn’t sure if it was the same one or not. “You called us?” it said, its mouth glistening. Holly shuddered again.

  “Yes, hello,” said Jalya. “Arkanian Warfare Strategies appears to be missing.”

  The librarian scuttled over to the shelf and peered at the empty space. Its wings bristled. “The book is reference material and cannot have been taken out. It must be downstairs in the storage area.”

  “Why?” said Holly, and the librarian’s many black eyes turned on her. She stepped back, a shelf jutting into her head.

  “We do not know. But we apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you.” The librarian scurried away, leaving them alone in the silence of the stacks. The empty space where the book should have been felt like a mouth in the shelf, laughing at them.

  Holly turned to Jalya, who was frowning. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said slowly. “But we should go downstairs and get the book quickly. Hopefully there’s no rule against that. These libr—aliens with book knowledge give me the creeps.”

  Holly nodded, and regally shuddered.

  * * *

  They took the winding plastic tube down to the basement. This time Holly kept her arms together, and the journey was smoother, except for when AsTRO came shooting out of the tube and nearly slammed into her head. Holly and Jalya helped the struggling robot up.

  The air was staler and chillier than it had been upstairs. Holly shivered. Jalya took off her jacket and put it around Holly’s shoulders.

  “Thanks,” said Holly, smiling.

  As they walked through the white corrido
r, the light grew dimmer and dimmer, as if it were draining out through the cracks in the wall. The paint was peeling off, exposing gray bricks underneath. The floor was slimy. It felt like everything cheerful was being sucked out of the world. Holly slid the Earth ball out of her pocket and gave it a meek squeeze, but it didn’t calm her nerves.

  “Someone needs to clean these Archives up,” she muttered.

  Jalya frowned. She ran a hand along the cracking wall. “This place reminds me of how I felt the day I became ruler of Quartle . . . dark and gloomy, and full of ice vultures. I am not sure if you have those on Earth.”

  Holly thought about this, shifting the words around her brain. “We don’t, but I know what you mean. It reminds me of how I felt when I lost the election for student president. . . .”

  “Why did you lose?” said Jalya, foot slipping on the floor. She steadied herself. “I think you would make a wonderful student president. Although I am not entirely sure what that is.”

  Holly smiled, and tried to ignore the unpleasant smell hovering around her nose. “I lost because no one voted for me.” She hesitated. Part of her didn’t want to say it out loud, but the other part wanted to tell Jalya. She wanted to let it out. “No one voted for me. Absolutely no one.”

  Jalya raised an eyebrow. “Not a single person?”

  “No,” said Holly, stepping in a puddle of slime. The memory came flooding back. “Not a single person. I got zero votes. I didn’t even vote for myself, because I thought that wasn’t fair.” She laughed, realizing how silly that sounded. “Maybe I should have, though. Then no one could say I had zero votes.”

  Jalya’s face took on a serious expression. “Well, I would have voted for you, Holly. I think your schoolmates don’t know what they’re doing! Has your school ever considered abandoning democracy in favor of something more sensible?”

  Holly suppressed a laugh. Hearing Jalya say she would have voted for her made the creepy place they were moving through suddenly feel a bit less creepy. “Thanks,” she said, the knot in her stomach loosening. “To be honest, I’m mostly just sad I didn’t get to use my campaign slogan. I thought it was really brilliant, but my mom said it was silly and people would laugh at me.”