by Wendy Mass
“Why are you talking like a cowboy?” I mumble as I doze off. I hear him say something about watching movies about the Old West on TV with Dad, but that’s all I remember until I hear a bloodcurdling screeeeech!
Once again, I bolt upright, my heart pounding this time. More yowling and screeching. I jump out of bed. “Pockets?” I open the closet door, but he’s not in there. “Pockets! Where are you?”
“Yooowl… eeeekkk… meeeooowww!”
I drop to the floor next to the bed and press my cheek to the rug. At first I can’t see anything in the dark, but then Pockets’s eyes glint and I spot him. At that moment, Mom, Dad, and Penny run into the room.
“What’s going on?” Dad asks, flipping on the light switch. “Is everything all right?”
Penny is wrapped around Mom’s leg, clutching her stuffed dragon and sucking her thumb. She still does that only when she’s really scared.
“Everything’s fine,” I tell them. “I mean, Pockets is upset about something, but I don’t know what. Maybe he had a bad dream?”
From beneath the bed, Pockets whimpers. Since Penny’s in the room, he can’t tell us anything. I notice something I wasn’t able to see in the dark—a newly balled-up piece of paper just outside the closet door. The others set about trying to get Pockets to come out while I unfold the paper. It has only one sentence printed on it:
The last remaining canisantha plant in the universe grows on the highest peak of planet Canis.
I pull Dad aside and whisper, “I think this is where our next mission will be. But I don’t know why Pockets is so freaked out.”
Dad looks down at the paper. “I know why,” he says. “Canis is the word scientists give to the group of animals that includes the common dog.”
“So you’re saying that planet Canis means… dog planet?”
Dad nods. “’Fraid so.”
“Oy vey!” I exclaim.
Dad looks at the shaking Pockets and says, “You can say that again!”
Chapter Four:
No Way, No How
“Good morning, Minerva,” Dad says into the com system as he adjusts his rearview mirror. “Morningstar and son checking in.”
“Always nice to hear from you,” Minerva says cheerily, “but I don’t have you on the schedule for today.”
“The ISF is sending us out on a mission,” Dad replies. “I will plug in our destination now.” He presses a button on the dash, and the keyboard pops out. But instead of typing in the data, he turns the keyboard in my direction.
“Here’s the information, Archie,” he says, handing me a slip of paper. “You should learn how to do this.” Dad hasn’t let me touch anything on the dashboard yet! I eagerly begin inputting the information.
Destination: planet Canis in the Canis Major dwarf galaxy
Takeoff: 8:00 a.m.
Arrival: approx. 1:00 p.m.
Time and date of return: unknown
Passengers: Salazar Morningstar, Archie Morningstar, Agent Pilarbing Fangorious Catapolitus, aka Pockets the cat
Systems: checked and ready
Weather: partly cloudy
I’m not the world’s best typist, so it takes me a lot longer than it would have taken him.
“Good job,” Dad says, pushing the keyboard back in. Pleased, I slide my space map out of its case so I’ll be ready as soon as we get the all clear from Minerva. But when she does come back on the com line, she’s laughing so hard she can’t speak. And let me tell you, the sound of a mouse laughing isn’t all that pleasant. It’s high-pitched and whiny and hurts my ears. “There is no way you’re telling me that cat is going to planet Canis,” she finally says. “No way, no how.”
I almost tell her that’s exactly what Pockets said last night when Dad told him we would be leaving early in the morning, but I feel like I have to defend him. “He is going,” I insist.
“Then where is he?” she asks.
“He’s coming,” I reply, glancing out the taxi’s back window.
“You expect me to believe,” she says, “that a cat is going to willingly travel to a planet inhabited by nothing but dogs? And I don’t mean civilized dogs that walk and talk and have cities and play ball games. I mean wild dogs whose first thought when they see a cat is to chase it.”
That news about the dogs being wild surprises me. I figured they were talking dogs, like Pockets is a talking cat and Minerva is a talking mouse. “Well… maybe not exactly willingly,” I admit.
“Here he comes now!” Dad says. He and I jump out of the car. Mom and Penny are pushing Pockets in the crate that Dad rigged together in the middle of the night. It’s like the world’s largest cat carrier, but on wheels. A regular-size cat could easily squeeze between the wooden slats, but Pockets can only stick his paws through.
Pockets scowls at us when he’s wheeled up to the car. I know he has a lot he’d like to say to my dad and me, but he can’t say anything in front of Penny. We only got him into the crate in the first place because he fell into such a deep sleep after all the yowling and carrying-on. Dad and I were able to slide him right in without waking him. The motion of the crate kept him sleeping, so Mom and Penny have been rolling him up and down the block for the last hour like a baby in a stroller. Looks like he finally woke up!
“Got a lot of strange glances,” Mom tells us. Penny kneels down beside the crate. Her cheeks get all puffy when she wants to say something but can’t get the words out. We’re used to it. Only this time, once she lets out the air, she breathes in again and says, “Bye-bye, Pockets. Please come home soon.”
Mom, Dad, and I gasp. Even Pockets stops glaring at us, and his ears perk up. That is the longest sentence Penny has ever said. It may actually be the ONLY full sentence she’s ever said. In fact, it was really TWO sentences! Mom’s eyes fill with tears, and she bends down to pull Penny into her arms. “Oh, sweetie! I’m so proud of you! Talking like the big girl you are! And of course Pockets is coming back. Daddy’s just taking him on a little ride.”
Penny squirms out of Mom’s arms and reaches through the slats into the crate. Pockets moves closer so she can stroke his neck. “I love you, Pockets!” she says. “You’re the best pet ever!”
Of course this makes Mom fully start to cry. Dad and I may have wiped away a tear or two—I’m not gonna lie.
“We’d better get going,” Dad says, patting Penny on the head. “Otherwise we’ll never leave.”
It takes me, Dad, and Mom to lift the crate into the backseat. It doesn’t help that Penny and Pockets keep reaching for each other. Penny has begun listing all the ways that Pockets is the best pet—he’s cute, he’s cuddly, he sleeps on her bed and keeps her feet warm, his purrs sound like music, and on and on. I guess now that Penny has decided to start talking, she has no plans to ever stop!
As soon as the car door closes and Mom leads Penny away, Pockets starts yelling at us. “What do you think you’re doing? I outrank you! I order you to release me and deliver me back to the apartment!”
“I knew it!” Minerva says, her laughter cackling through the com line.
“Hey,” Pockets shouts at her. “I haven’t seen you book a trip to MY planet!”
The idea of a mouse vacationing on a planet full of cats quiets her right down.
“Let’s just focus on the job ahead,” Dad says, heading out of town toward the airfield. “We know you don’t want to go, Pockets. And trust me—your father is beside himself with worry, but he knows you’re the best officer for the job. He made us promise to keep you far away from any dogs. You’ll stay with the taxi while Archie and I retrieve the plant.”
Pockets finally settles down. “I don’t have to leave the taxi?” he asks.
“That’s right,” Dad says.
“We can use those glasses and the earpiece you gave me yesterday,” I suggest to Pockets. “That way it will be like you’re there with us.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, pulling out his pillow. He curls up on top of it but doesn’t shut his eyes.
“Ready for liftoff?” Dad asks me.
I turn back around and focus on the map. I ask it for the best route, and the map responds to my voice by filling the air over my lap with planets and stars.
“That’s strange,” I say, turning the map around to get a better view. “The Canis Major dwarf galaxy is right next to our Milky Way, but the trip to get there is really long and winding. And the travel time we sent Minerva said five hours. We’ve passed through ten galaxies before in less time than that.”
“Yes, but there aren’t any wormholes between us and Canis Major,” Dad says, raising his voice over the increasing roar of the engine and the grinding sound the wings make as they come out from the sides of the taxi. “That means we can’t take any shortcuts. You’ll have to pay careful attention because we’ll be passing through a lot of populated areas. There will be many more stars and planets than you’re used to navigating around.”
That sounds scary! I make sure my double seat-belt system is tight and brace myself as the front wheels lift off the ground. That first part—when half the car is flying and half is driving—still takes some getting used to.
I focus on my space map. There are so many objects floating in front of me that I can barely see the dashboard through them. “Okay,” I reply, peering at it all nervously. “We’ll have to exit the solar system after we pass Mars. There are a lot of asteroids flying between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter, though.”
“Yup,” Dad says, slowing as we approach Mars. “That’s the Asteroid Belt. We can usually avoid flying through it, but sometimes the only way around is through.”
I reach out with my finger and touch one of the tiny map asteroids whizzing by my face in an almost perfect circle. It’s moving so fast that the words above it are hard to read. I think they’re telling me the rock is one of millions zooming around this part of the solar system. Now all I have to do is make sure we avoid them all!
“Hang on, guys,” I tell Dad and Pockets. “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!”
Chapter Five:
What Would Pockets Do?
For a half hour I shout out directions like: “Turn east! No, not yet… now! Okay, straight past the asteroid that looks like a giant football. Okay, slow down so the one that looks like Pockets’s butt can pass in front of us. I don’t want that thing getting too close!”
Pockets harumphs from the backseat, but Dad laughs. I think he’s having fun zigging and zagging to avoid the giant rocks. My stomach’s getting a little queasy, but we’re almost out of the Asteroid Belt. At least there were no loop-the-loops like in the wormholes.
The rest of the trip to Canis is long, but we get to see some really cool things on the way. Right as we leave the Milky Way, Dad points out a stellar nursery where stars are starting to form. A special coating on the windshield allows us to actually see the gas and dust swirling around us, clumping together to form baby stars. I point it out to Pockets, but he only grunts at me. I don’t take it personally.
“We are about to enter the atmosphere for Canis,” I finally announce. Pockets springs up, hits the top of his crate, yelps, and shouts something that makes my dad say, “Young man, we don’t use that kind of language in this taxi!”
“Sorry,” Pockets mutters miserably. Then he swings his tail around, unhinges the end, and lasers a hole right through the side of the crate. He walks out onto the seat and stretches. “Ah, that’s better,” he says.
“Why didn’t you just do that from the start?” I ask.
He shrugs. “What would be the point? I knew I needed to come with you. So guide us to the right mountaintop, oh keeper of the space map. Let’s grab the plant before B.U.R.P. does, and then get out of Dodge.”
“Dodge?” I ask, searching my map. “I don’t see any planets with that name.”
Dad chuckles. “It’s not a planet. It’s an expression from old western movies. It means ‘to leave town quickly.’”
I feel a little left out of their late-night movie marathons, but truthfully, those old black-and-white movies are kinda boring. “Well, anyway, as soon as we pass that mountain over there with the snow on it, you’ll see a peak with two tall trees. According to the ISF, that’s where the plant grows.”
Dad follows my instructions, but as soon as we approach the peak with the two trees, we all see the problem. There’s nowhere to land! The whole mountaintop, including the trees, is about the size of our kitchen!
“Archie, you’re going to have to go down there while the taxi hovers overhead,” Pockets says. “I, of course, will remain here.” He pulls out a folded ladder and begins unrolling it. “For added protection, you can use my force field device. As they taught us at the academy, if you fall, you’ll bounce back up like a rubber ball.”
“Seriously?” I ask. Pockets is always serious, so I turn to Dad. “You’re going to let me climb out the window, in midair, and climb down this ladder?”
Dad takes a closer look out the window. “I can hover right next to that smaller tree. You won’t actually be too far off the ground, so I’m okay with it if you are.”
My eyes widen. “Awesome!”
While Dad gets into position, Pockets rolls down the back window and attaches the ladder. It unfolds until the last rung dangles only a foot off the ground. “We’ll get you as close as we can to the plant,” he says, “so you won’t have to get off the ladder. I think it’s best not to step on the ground so the dogs don’t pick up your scent as quickly.”
I’d kind of forgotten about the dogs.
He hands me his force field pen and shows me what button to press to turn it on and off. “You’ll have to enclose the whole taxi and the ladder, too,” he says. “Otherwise you won’t be able to grip the rope. Making such a wide field will quickly drain the battery, though, so make sure you turn it off when you land.”
I nod, slipping the gadget into my back pocket.
“One more thing,” Pockets says, pulling out a small pouch with a metal clip at the end. He clips it onto my belt loop and then sprays it all over with Camo-It-Now. “This will keep the plant safe and hidden.”
“Cool,” I say, reaching down to touch the now-invisible pouch. Yup, still there. Then I slide my space map into its silver case and sling it over my shoulder. After wishing I’d had it with me on the last planet to help me rescue a three-eyed princess, I’m never leaving it behind again!
“Ready?” Pockets asks.
“Giddyap!” I reply. It’s the only cowboy phrase I know.
Dad gives me the thumbs-up and says, “Might not want to tell your mom about this one for a little while.”
I grin and climb over my seat into the back. Pockets helps me get out the window and onto the top rung of the ladder. Once I have a solid grip, I activate the force field. I wave good-bye and begin the climb down. The ladder sways more than I’d like, but knowing that the force field is around me makes me feel braver. I look up at the car to see Pockets sticking his head out the window, watching. I can tell from his face that he wishes he could do this, too. That cat loves adventure.
When I reach the last rung, I undo the force field and look around. From my perch on the bottom rung, I can see a single stalk of the canisantha plant growing in a shady spot between the two trees, just out of my reach. If I tried to grab it and fell, would the dogs pounce on me? I wave up to Dad and Pockets to tell them they need to move the taxi a few feet, but they just think I’m waving to say hello and so they wave back. Not helpful.
I swing for a few seconds and ask myself, What would Pockets do? He would do the best with what he had. Although in his case, with his endlessly deep pockets, he has everything! So I use what I have. I untie each end of the strap from my map case, then tie one end onto the rung of the ladder above me and the other end onto my belt loop. Now when I lean forward, I can let go of the ladder just enough to grab the plant without my hands or feet touching the ground. The plant feels rough, like bark, rather than soft like leaves. I can definitely see why no one wante
d to try eating it!
Pockets told me to pull it out with the roots still attached, so I grab the stalk with both hands and tug. It doesn’t budge. I yank harder and harder until it finally comes away in my hands. If I didn’t know better, I would think the ground knew it was holding on to something so valuable and rare. I fumble for the invisible pouch and place the plant carefully inside it. As it drops back against my pants pocket, I remember I’d put the glasses and earpiece from Pockets in there. D’oh! I could have used those before! I put them on now and instantly hear Pockets shouting in my ear, “Get off the ladder! Let go of the rope! Hide behind the closest tree! Now!”
I don’t even have time to think or ask Why? or What about the dogs? I quickly untangle myself from the strap and dash toward the tree. The second I step away from the ladder, it shoots up and the taxi zooms off behind a nearby cloud.
So now I’m on the ground and the dogs could come at any second and there’s nowhere to go. Pockets was right—I should have brushed up on my tree climbing!
“Hurry!” Pockets shouts. But I’m not moving fast enough. I know this because a very large, very hairy hand that definitely doesn’t belong to Pockets or Dad—or, fortunately, a wild dog!—has just clamped down on my shoulder.
Chapter Six:
A Case of Mistaken Identity
I stand very still, afraid to turn and face the guy beside me. I’m thinking that maybe the dogs wouldn’t have been so bad after all. I mean, dogs like me. At least Luna does. Maybe they would have wanted to play fetch or find a nice river to splash in. Instead, I get this huge guy. (I can tell he’s huge by the shadow he casts. He reminds me of Mr. Fitch, the first criminal I ever helped catch.)
