by Ahmet Zappa
Piper looked up from her dream holo-diary, flipping a lock of hair the color of ocean foam over her shoulder. “Is someone on the way?” she asked.
“I think Tessa is heading over,” Astra told her. After striking out with Cassie, they had tried to talk to some of the other Star Darlings and had begun to notice that something seemed off with each and every one of them. But they couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on. So they decided they’d study their roommates first and report to each other.
Back in their room, after Clover had hugged Astra tightly for the tenth time, she realized that no one could possibly have missed her that much. So she sent Piper a holo-text:
Clover is a mad hugger! What about Vega?
After a while she received the following holo-text:
To figure it out took me some time. But Vega only talks in rhyme!
They made plans to study the rest of the Star Darlings the next starday, starting at breakfast. So there they sat, awaiting their arrival.
Piper shut off the dream diary with a swipe of her hand. “Star apologies, Astra,” she said. “I just thought I’d skim through some of my latest dream entries to see if I could come up with any clues about what’s going on. You know, any themes or symbols that might have deeper meaning.”
Just a few stardays earlier, Astra would have scoffed at such a statement. But now she totally got it.
“Find anything?” Astra asked hopefully.
Piper sighed. “Not yet,” she said.
They both watched as Tessa, her brilliant green eyes flashing, made a glitterbeeline for the table near the windows that the Star Darlings had claimed as their own. All the Star Darlings knew how much Tessa loved food and looked forward to each meal. “Star greetings,” she said pleasantly. She plopped down in a chair. “I’m starving!” she announced.
A Bot-Bot waiter zoomed up to drop off Piper’s and Astra’s breakfasts and take Tessa’s order. She thought for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll take a pastry basket and a cup of Zing, please,” she said.
Her breakfast arrived shortly thereafter. Tessa’s hand hovered over the baked treats, and she licked her lips as she made her choice. She pulled out an ozziefruit croissant and took a big bite. “Moonberry,” she said when she was done chewing. She made quick work of the flaky pastry, then, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin for any errant crumbs, reached in again. This time she grabbed a mini astromuffin, which Astra could see was liberally studded with lolofruit. She popped the entire thing into her mouth and chewed. “Moonberry again!” she said. “What are the chances?”
Astra’s Star-Zap, which was sitting in her lap in silent mode, flickered. She flipped it open and read the message.
Tessa = Everything tastes like moonberries?
Sure looks that way!
Cassie and Sage strolled in next. Cassie sat next to Piper and smiled at her as she flicked open her napkin.
“Starkudos on your mission, Piper,” she said.
“Star salutations, Cassie,” Piper said, digging into her bowl of Quasar Krispies with sliced starberries.
“It probably didn’t…” Cassie began, obviously trying to figure out the best way to phrase her statement. “It probably didn’t go quite as seamlessly as mine, did it?” She thought for a moment and laughed, placing a hand on Piper’s arm. “Of course it didn’t,” she said. “What was I thinking? My mission was such a stellar success!”
Piper looked stricken for a moment. But her expression changed to a knowing grin when she received Astra’s holo-text:
Cassie = Braggy! Now her weird behavior yesterday makes sense!
The rest of the Star Darlings began to arrive at the table. Astra and Piper watched as Sage giggled when Clover shamefacedly confessed to getting a D on her Chronicle Class examination and then guffawed when the Bot-Bot waiter informed her the kitchen was out of the Sparkle-O’s she had ordered.
Sage = Can’t stop laughing.
Piper nodded from across the table and began to write a holo-message in return.
Libby = Can’t stay awake.
Astra looked over at the girl, whose cheek was resting on her plate of tinsel toast. My stars, she thought. She reached for her mug, drank her last gulp of twinkle tea, and began to compose a reply.
“Hey,” said Cassie, noticing. “Are you writing a message about me?” she asked eagerly. She looked down at her silver dress and lace tights and smiled. “I did pick a startastically fashionable outfit today, didn’t I?”
“You do look nice today,” Astra said. To Piper she holo-texted:
They don’t know that they are acting odd, do they?
I don’t think so. Let’s see…
“Vega,” she said. “Have you noticed that everything you say rhymes?”
Ten Star Darlings’ heads swiveled around to look at Piper, curious looks on their faces.
Cassie cocked her head to the side. “Really?” she said. “I don’t hear it.”
Gemma turned to Tessa. “Imagine if I talked in rhyme all the time? That would be so annoying!”
Tessa laughed. “My stars!” she said to her sister. “Bite your tongue!”
“Ouch!” said Gemma.
Vega stared at Piper like she had three auras. “Piper, do you need some schooling? Talking in rhyme? You must be fooling!”
With a quick glance at Astra, Piper asked, “You really didn’t just hear that?”
“I think it is completely clear,” Vega replied. “There isn’t anything to hear.”
Does that answer your question?
It certainly does!
Soon it was time to head to class. Piper and Astra lingered at the table as the rest of the Star Darlings gathered their Star-Zaps and stood up to leave. Their Bot-Bot waiter collected the breakfast utensils and dishes around them.
“Star salutations, SL-D9,” said Astra. When he zoomed off, she turned to Piper. “It’s just so startastically strange that no one knows they are acting odd.”
Piper nodded. “Or that anyone else is, either,” she added.
The two girls headed out of the cafeteria, down the steps, and toward Halo Hall.
Suddenly, Piper grabbed Astra’s arm and jerked her backward. “Watch out!” she cried. Astra realized that she had almost been knocked down by a Starling rushing to class.
Astra stared after her. “Was that Scarlet?” she said.
Piper nodded.
“And was she skipping?” Astra asked incredulously.
“She was skipping,” said Piper.
“Well, now I’ve seen everything,” said Astra. “We’ve got to figure this weirdness out, and fast.”
“So why aren’t we acting odd?” asked Piper.
“Great question,” said Astra. “I think when we sort out that part, we’ll be able to get to the bottom of this.”
Piper sighed. “Let’s figure it out soon,” she said. “If I have to listen to Vega’s rhymes for much longer, I think I’ll scream!”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” shrieked Piper.
Vega jumped, then turned to Piper, her brow furrowed in concern. “Piper, are you quite all right?” she asked. “Your screaming gave me such a fright.”
Piper’s mouth opened as if she might yelp again, and Astra put a steadying hand on her arm. Vega, who had just bumped into the two girls on her way to class, shook her head in consternation and headed down the hallway, glancing back over her shoulder worriedly at Piper.
Piper turned to Astra and gave her a shaky smile. “My sincerest star apologies,” she said. “But I just can’t stand the rhyming anymore.”
“No star apologies necessary,” said Astra. “Really. I get it. Everyone’s behavior is not just weird, it is startastically annoying. We’ll figure it out after SD class this afternoon,” she told Piper, more confidently than she felt. “I’ll see you later. I’m off to Aspirational Art.”
Piper brightened. “Maybe it will spark some creative ideas,” she said hopefully.
<
br /> Astra shrugged. “Doubtful. I don’t even know why I have to take Aspirational Art, anyway,” she said. “I’d much rather do a double P.E. class.” Astra ignored Piper’s shudder. She knew that while Piper loved stretching and meditating, she was no fan of team sports.
Astra walked into the classroom, a huge airy space with beautiful light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Giant holo-canvases, one for each student, were set up around the room. Each had an artist’s station furnished with brushes of all sizes and tubs of glowing paintlight in every color of the rainbow. Astra selected a canvas positioned in the corner, which overlooked the lush ozziefruit orchard.
The rest of the students began choosing their canvases, ready to begin. But where was their professor?
“Should we just start?” asked Fioney, a girl with bright blue curls. She picked up a brush and positioned it over her jar of purple paintlight, eager to get started.
Astra grinned as she observed the empty doorway. “Maybe he’s not coming and we’ll get a free period!” she said hopefully.
Gaila, a serious girl with a turquoise aura, gasped. “We need to stay, Astra,” she gently chided. “Imagine if he came in and we were all gone!”
Astra eyed the holo-clock. “If he’s not here by eleven-eighty, I say we make our starry way elsewhere,” she said. “We could all go for a run. Or play a game of Poses!”
“Or take a nap!” said a girl named Smilla, who had a bright green buzz cut. The rest of the class laughed.
Half the class stared at the holo-clock and the other half stared at the door as the starmins ticked by. With ten starsecs to go before eleven-eighty, the door slid open with a bang and Professor Findley Claxworth stood there, his tall frame filling the doorway. Astra sighed. “Sorry I’m late!” he said, his purple hair in even more disarray than usual. “But I couldn’t find my favorite pair of purple socks! And you know how much I love to match.” He indicated his purple-and-turquoise striped shirt.
“Did you find them?” asked Smilla.
“Yes, to my great relief!” he said with a grin as he lifted his pant leg to show everyone his violet socks.
The door slid shut behind him as he stepped inside the classroom. “I hope you girls are ready to let your creativity soar today,” he announced. “Today is going to be all about letting go of your inhibitions and shining like the creative geniuses I know you are. Today you should all just go crazy!”
Astra gave him a look. Go crazy? That was what she did on the playing field. Not in art class. She wasn’t even quite sure where to start.
It was even more frustrating to her because the rest of the students immediately started to paint. One girl sang to herself as she covered her canvas with bold strokes of blue and yellow. Another closed her eyes and simply let the paint fly. Astra stood in front of her blank canvas, uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Astra!” said the professor as he stepped up behind her. “Don’t think, just do.”
Astra put down her brush, turning to face him. “I’m just not creative,” she told him, shaking her head. Then, catching his sympathetic look, she added hastily, “It doesn’t bother me! I’m an athlete! I just don’t have time to work on my creative side. No offense.”
His eyes crinkled behind his round magenta glasses. “None taken, Starling,” he said. “But we all have creativity inside of us. It’s just that in some it is closer to the surface than others. We need to give ourselves permission to be open to it and then let ourselves go. No self-consciousness, no embarrassment. You must embrace it and then you’ll really soar. Trust me, there’s no other feeling quite like it.”
Astra nodded and smiled agreeably, but when he moved on to the next student, she rolled her eyes. No other feeling like it? That was easy to say if you hadn’t scored the winning basket in a tied game of star ball as the holo-clock was counting down, or broken a school record in the quarter-floozel dash. She couldn’t imagine that spreading some paintlight on a holo-canvas could even come close to that feeling.
Having this enormous blank canvas in front of her was daunting. She felt unsure of herself, and that was unfamiliar and unpleasant. She dipped a large brush in her favorite color, bright red, which was sparkly.
“Don’t think, just feel,” the professor said in her ear. She hadn’t realized he had returned, and his voice startled her. She jumped, her arm moved forward, and a big splash of shimmery red paintlight landed on the canvas.
“There you go,” said Professor Claxworth encouragingly.
The red splatter might not have been intentional, but it did look good against the blank canvas. Encouraged, Astra picked up another brush and coated it in sparkling yellow paintlight. She flicked the brush at the canvas, and splatters of sunshine covered the right side of the painting on top of the red. She started to feel bolder. Orange was next, then green, then purple. She decided she needed more red. She stepped back and took a look. The entire canvas was covered in overlapping strokes and splatters of paint. It was very bright and colorful. Cheerful, even. She tilted her head for another look. Then she frowned. Something was clearly missing.
“Nice work,” said the professor, who had made his rounds and was back at Astra’s side. He stared at the picture. “It’s very pretty.” He shook his head. “But I think it needs more of you in it.”
Astra considered this. More of her? What exactly did that mean? She liked sports, action, movement. Maybe she should be more athletic in her approach to the canvas. She dipped her brush in orange paintlight, then jumped in the air, spun, and made a bold stroke on the canvas, layering on more color. That felt good! She did it again, this time with green. Even better. Then she had an idea. Was it crazy or was it brilliant? She’d find out in a moment. She looked around. Her professor was deep in conversation with a girl named Oola, who had covered her canvas with huge flower shapes in purple and pink. The other students were concentrating on their paintings. So no one saw Astra walk to the other side of the room and pour a large container of white paintlight over her head. She took a deep breath, ran across the room, did a flying leap and a double flip, and launched herself right at the painting. The springy canvas acted like a trampoline and she bounced back onto the floor, landing on her feet. She was now completely covered in paintlight—not just white, but every color of the rainbow. The rest of the students stared at her in shock.
Astra stood there, dripping. The colorful canvas now had a life-size Astra shape in the middle. She looked at it and grinned. It was totally strange, unique, and decidedly her.
Professor Findley Claxworth stood in the middle of the room in silence. Astra stared at him. Had she taken things too far?
“My heavens!” he finally exclaimed. “It’s brilliant!” He turned to Astra. “What do you want to call it?”
“Um…Athlete in Motion?” she suggested, wiping paint from her eyebrows. She felt happy—exhilarated, even. Maybe there really was something to this creativity thing!
Oola gave her a look. “Um…you do know that if you leave paintlight on yourself for longer than twenty starmins, it totally stains, right?”
Astra turned to her professor. “Is that true?” she asked him. “It doesn’t just disappear?”
He glanced down at his paintlight-splattered clothes, then at Astra. “Oh, yes!” he said. “Isn’t it great? It is the one substance on Starland that will permanently stain fabric if you leave it on long enough.”
“Um, then may I be excused to take a sparkle shower before next class?” Astra asked. As she spoke, she felt a drip slide down her cheek.
He looked starprised. “Well, certainly,” he said. “But are you sure? I think you look great!”
Astra passed by a holo-trophy case and stole a glance at her paintlight-splattered reflection as she walked down the hallway. She was drenched! Still, she gave a little skip, then glanced around quickly to make sure no one had seen it. Maybe Aspirational Art wasn’t so bad after all.
She was rounding the corner, heading toward the front
door, when she heard Lady Stella’s voice. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she found herself ducking back into the shadows and pausing to listen. Astra, what are you doing? she thought. Spying on the headmistress—what is wrong with you? She peered around the corner. A woman wearing a dark cloak, the hood pulled over her head, was speaking earnestly with Lady Stella.
Astra holo-texted Piper:
Hey! I’m out of class and outside Lady Stella’s office. She’s here. Do you think I should ask her if she’s noticed what’s been going on with everyone?
She pressed SEND.
The immediate response: HOLO-TEXT FAILURE.
“Thank you mumble for coming by…. I’m glad that you called the energy mumble to my attention….” Astra’s head jerked up. Had one of the women said the word shortage? But then again, it could have been sport edge or possibly even report ledge. She wasn’t exactly sure. She strained to hear more, but the voices drifted into gibberish. Then she suddenly realized there were footfalls heading her way. She stepped forward and, most unfortunately, bumped right into the hooded woman. Some spy she was.
“Star apologies,” said Astra, noticing that the woman’s soft plum cloak was now streaked with white, purple, and red paintlight. “But you’ll want to wash that in the next twenty starmins or it will be stained forever.”
The woman stepped back when she saw Astra, and gathered her hood more tightly around her face. But not before Astra caught a glimpse of her delicate pointed chin and deep lavender eyes. She looked so familiar. Did Astra know her from somewhere? Perhaps she was an actress on holo-vison? “Star salutations,” the woman said softly, and hurried down the hallway. Astra stared after her retreating back. Something about that woman seemed so familiar….
