Not Your Average Princesses Page 9

  “Are you serious?” Juno asked in a hushed whisper. “You think I came all this way—and got this close to one of Geela’s weapons—just so we could turn back and quit before the fun part?”

  “Aren’t these black spy suits the fun part?” Luna asked.

  Juno shook her head. “We’re going to destroy it. The Fog-O-Nator is never leaving this warehouse.”

  “That goes against Captain Hansome’s instructions,” Chamberlin protested. “He specifically said you were to find out what kind of weapon she was building and report back so … the Resistance … can figure out how best to destroy it.”

  “By the time we report back,” Athena said, “it may be too late. We need to destroy it now!”

  Moments later, the girls and a very nervous Chamberlin climbed up a narrow ladder on the far end of the warehouse. “We just need to get up on this ductwork,” Juno said, racing up the ladder effortlessly. “We’ll have the perfect view of the weapon’s moving parts from overhead.”

  “In case anyone cares,” Chamberlin mumbled. “I have a fear of heights…”

  Behind him, Rhea asked, “Is there anything you’re not afraid of, Chamberlin?”

  Chamberlin paused for a moment, considering. “Doughnuts,” he said finally. “And tea.” As he began to climb again, he said, “But wait … cold tea gives me the willies. And sometimes, doughnuts have sprinkles. There is always the chance a sprinkle could fall off and go in your eye and—well, I guess that’s to say, perhaps I’m also afraid of doughnuts.”

  Once they had all reached the top of the ladder, the six of them scurried cautiously on all fours across the web of ducts. From overhead, they had the perfect view of the Fog-O-Nator. Now, to figure out how to destroy it—without being destroyed themselves.

  Below them, the professor was explaining the inner workings of the Fog-O-Nator to Geela. “There is only one weak spot on this weapon,” he explained.

  “That is unacceptable!” Geela shrieked, her voice ringing out from one side of the warehouse to the other. “I don’t believe in weakness.”

  “Well, Your Greatness, we have done our best to make this weapon as strong as possible—but in order to finish it in the timeline you required, we were not able to perfect the input valve.”

  “Explain yourself in my language,” Geela screamed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t make me feel foolish, professor!”

  “Yes, Empress,” the professor said, cowering under Geela’s floating pod. “You see, there is a tube just here—” He pointed to a huge metal pipe that reached up toward the roof of the warehouse. “This tube sucks in air that is then converted to fog. If something were to fall inside this tube while the motor was running, well…” The professor broke off with a shrug.

  “Well what?” Geela screeched.

  “Well … the entire machine would be destroyed,” the professor said with a meek smile. “It’s a weakness, I admit. And for that I’m sorry.”

  The girls exchanged a look.

  “Turn it on!” Geela ordered. “I want to see how it works.”

  “But Empress,” began the professor. “We’ll fill the entire warehouse with fog in a matter of seconds.”

  “Don’t ‘but Empress’ me,” Geela barked. “Turn it on.”

  “But—”

  “No buts!” Geela pointed a long, perfectly manicured finger at the professor. “Do it!”

  The professor flicked a switch and the Fog-O-Nator roared to life. “Just give it one minute to warm up,” the professor said nervously. “Then you’ll see what kind of power you will soon have.”

  “We need to move fast,” Juno whispered urgently to the other girls. “You heard what that guy said—this place is going to be filled with fog in no time. We need to jam that tube and move on out.”

  “What are we going to jam it with?” Rhea asked.

  Before they could figure it out, Geela’s voice rang out over the loud speaker again. “Doughnut!” she blurted. “I want a doughnut while I wait for it to warm up.”

  A guard raced across the warehouse floor, a tray of doughnuts balanced precariously in his hands. As the girls watched, the guard tripped on a loose piece of machinery … and the tray of doughnuts flew up, up, up. They twisted and spun in the air, flying in dozens of different directions. “Chamberlin, watch out!” Athena cried as one of the doughnuts—a glazed one coated with rainbow sprinkles—raced straight toward him. The doughnut made contact with Chamberlin’s leg, and the sprinkles scattered everywhere. One of them spun and twisted through the air, then hit Chamberlin in the eye. With a delicate shriek, Chamberlin tumbled off the ductwork and dangled over the Fog-O-Nator.

  Juno and Athena both lunged for him, grabbing his arms and pulling him toward safety. But it was too late—Geela had already spotted them. “Someone is in here! Destroy them!” she screamed, as fog began to fill the air.

  “We need to go now,” Rhea said as Geela’s floating pod raced toward them. Several of Geela’s Android army began to shoot at the girls. Because of the fog shrouding the warehouse floor, the shots all missed. Instead of hitting their intended targets, the blasters blasted a huge hole through the warehouse wall.

  “My cardigan,” Chamberlin said, tugging at his sweater sleeve as the girls pulled at his arms and legs. “It’s stuck. I’m caught on something.”

  “Take it off,” Athena ordered.

  Chamberlin shrugged his arms out of the sweater. The girls pulled him the rest of the way up, leaving his sweater dangling from the ductwork by one loose piece of yarn.

  “Let’s go out through one of the holes in the side of the wall,” Juno ordered. “We’ll have to jump.” She whistled, long and loud.

  As the six spies raced toward a huge blaster hole in the outside wall, Athena snuck one last glance back at the Fog-O-Nator. “I can’t believe we failed,” she growled. “Because of a doughnut.”

  But then, something amazing happened. Empress Geela’s floating pod whooshed into Chamberlin’s sweater as she raced after the five princesses. The force of the impact knocked the sweater free. Gracefully, the hand-knit cardigan fell down, down, down—straight into the Fog-O-Nator’s precious, delicate input tube.

  With a mighty glorph! the machine belched and groaned. Sparks began to fly, and the whole thing burst into flames. Geela screamed. Fog swirled around the girls as they jumped out of the hole in the side of the warehouse and leaped toward the ground below.

  “Ha ha!” Geela’s voice rang out from inside the warehouse. “That is a sixty-foot drop. The intruders have all fallen to certain death.”

  But she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Just before the five girls and Chamberlin hit the icy ground, they bounced off a squishy nest of purple fur that had been waiting to catch them. “Good girl,” Juno said, patting Skitter’s huge, inflated back. “Now, it’s time to get back to the space bus. Our first rebel mission is over!”

  CHAPTER 11

  “I am impressed by your results,” Captain Hansome announced over the Resistance’s secure holo-network later that day. The leader of the Resistance had explained to his new recruits that, because of the risk involved with in-person meetings, most of their interaction would be done via remote communication devices and holo-comms that would be provided by the Resistance. Luna was crushed to think that she couldn’t flirt (and admire the captain’s rippling shoulder muscles) in person more often. “But!” Captain Hansome went on. “I am also frustrated that you took such risks during your mission. You were specifically told to scout and report back—not to destroy the weapon yourselves. You could have been hurt or, worse, caught.”

  “But we weren’t caught,” Juno said defiantly.

  “But you could have been,” Hansome said, jutting out his chiseled chin.

  “But we weren’t,” Juno repeated.

  “But you could have been,” Hansome said.

  “It was basically an accident anyway,” said Juno.

  “Enough!” Athena said, cutt
ing them both off. “There is no sense arguing about it now. The deed is done. We snuck in, we performed our mission, and we also ended up performing your mission. All in all, it should be considered a success for the Resistance.”

  “… the Resistance!” Hansome echoed. Then he shook his head, as if to clear it, and went on. “I must admit that I underestimated the five of you.”

  “And Chamberlin,” Hera said sweetly. “If it hadn’t been for Chamberlin and his sweater, the Fog-O-Nator would be churning out yucky-blucky fog all over the Pentangle Galaxy right at this very moment.”

  Chamberlin smiled modestly. “I am proud to have served … the Resistance. It was my pleasure.”

  “Indeed,” Hansome said. “Thank you to Chamberlin as well. Now, we need to figure out what your next mission should be.”

  “Next mission?!” Chamberlin blurted out, choking on a sip of tea. “There will be no next mission!”

  Hansome laughed. Luna quickly joined him. “Of course there will be another mission,” Hansome said, chuckling.

  “Silly Chamberlin,” Luna added.

  Hansome became serious again and said, “I will consider what your next task shall be and get in touch with you again shortly. In the meantime, you should prepare for the challenges that lie ahead. Hansome … out!” The holo-screen fizzled and went black.

  “He’s gone!” Luna shrieked. She dove for the holo-screen, staring into the blank void where Hansome’s face had been just a moment before. “I miss him so much already.”

  “I’m sure he misses you, too, Snookie-kins,” Rhea said in a sappy voice.

  Luna glared at her. “He and I have a connection,” she said, pouting.

  “What do you think Hansome meant when he said ‘prepare for the challenges that lie ahead’?” Athena asked.

  “Fight training,” Juno said. “Survival skills. If any of you actually came face to face with Geela or her Android army, it wouldn’t be pretty. Sheer luck is the only thing that got us out of that warehouse last night. And me and Skitter.”

  “Don’t give yourself all the credit,” Luna snapped, still pouting.

  “Oh, come on,” Juno said, rolling her eyes. “If I hadn’t been there to take the lead, you would all still be standing around trying to figure out how to get to the Ice Desert. You’re all a bunch of princesses with absolutely no instincts for survival, reconnaissance, or spying.”

  “Juno is not wrong,” Chamberlin said quietly. “None of you is equipped for this kind of work. If you are going to continue to perform rebel missions, I insist that you all learn to take better care of yourselves.”

  “I take great care of myself!” Luna protested. “I keep my skin hydrated with custom-blended moisturizers, I have regular facials, I get exfoliating salt scrubs twice monthly, my weekly mani-pedis—”

  Chamberlin cut her off. “That is not the kind of care I am talking about. I’m talking about self-sufficiency and independence. You don’t even know how to make your own bed!” he snapped. “I also know for a fact that none of you knows how to boil a kettle of water, you are incapable of cleaning up after yourselves, and one of you has been so spoiled by your servants that you have forgotten to flush the toilet countless times since our escape. Just imagine what would happen if you were in a situation where you had to take care of yourself in order to survive. It would be a disaster.”

  “On Junoia, there is a custom that when royals turn ten, they are sent into the wilderness to survive on their own for a month,” Juno told the others. “I can’t make my own bed—and, frankly, don’t want to learn—but I do know how to protect myself in dangerous situations.”

  “Your parents sent their ten-year-old out into the wilderness for a month alone?” Hera asked, obviously horrified. “Who tucked you in at night? Who read you your bedtime story?”

  “Who prepared your meals?” Luna asked.

  “Where did you go to the bathroom?” Rhea wondered aloud.

  “Things are different on Junoia,” Juno said with a shrug. “My family believes it is essential that a young woman learn how to take care of herself in challenging situations. I would be happy to teach you all to fight, if you’d like me to.”

  “No thanks,” Luna said in a bored voice. “I don’t want to chip a nail. I have a feeling we might not get to a manicurist anytime soon…”

  “A broken nail will be the least of your worries if you have to face-off against Geela,” Athena chided her. “Juno, teach us everything you know.”

  * * *

  “Ohhhhh,” Rhea moaned, curling into a ball on her bed. “This must be what it feels like to be chewed up and then spit out by a krag. I’m so sore!”

  “I think I might be dying,” Luna whimpered. “Someone get me a juice!”

  Hera, whose body was twisted into a complicated yoga pose on the floor, muttered, “Breathe happiness in, push the anger back out…”

  Athena inspected her knuckles, which were bruised and cracking. “How long do bruises last?” she asked aloud. “Will my hands be scarred like this forever?”

  “Oh my Grock!” Juno growled. “We haven’t even gotten to hand-to-hand combat! All you’ve done is throw a few punches at poor Rand, who is probably a whole lot sorer than any of you. This is the easy stuff.”

  “Easy?” Luna yelped. “My muscles are so tired that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get out of bed again. How are we supposed to go out on stage tomorrow for the outdoor music festival we’re supposed to be performing at? I might need to be rolled out in a wheelchair.”

  “Get up and quit complaining,” Juno ordered. “Do you want to be ready for our next mission, or not?”

  “Aren’t there other ways we could prepare?” Rhea asked. Suddenly, she brightened. “Ooh, I know what I can do. I’m going to add a little flare to our rebel outfits. I think I’ll add a hint of color so we don’t look like a giant blob of black when we’re on our missions.”

  “Yeah,” Juno muttered. “Looking good is just as important as learning to stay alive.”

  “Great!” Luna said. “If looking good is important, then I’m going to take a nap. If we want me to look my best for tomorrow’s show, I am in serious need of beauty sleep.”

  While Luna dozed and Rhea figured out a way to jazz up their rebel outfits, Athena embarked on a project of her own. “What are you doing?” Juno asked, plunking down on Athena’s bed. Athena had collected up all the small electronics, makeup, and fashion accessories they had on board the space bus, and was now expertly breaking them all open. Tiny screws, batteries, wires, and lipstick caps littered the top of her bed. Athena was hunched over everything, fiddling with a bunch of wires.

  “I realized on our last mission that if we had gotten separated, there would have been no way for us to reconnect out there in the Ice Desert. Without communicators, we are putting ourselves in danger. So I’m trying to make us new devices that will help us during our missions.”

  “You’re trying to make communicators?” Juno asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “Do you have any idea how to do that?”

  “Yes,” Athena said simply. “You were given survival training as part of your royal education. I, on the other hand, was enrolled in engineering courses. One could argue that engineering is far more useful as a life skill. I am using what I learned to try to fashion some homemade spy tools.”

  Juno nodded and settled in across from her. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “Thank you,” Athena said, giving her a small smile. “We all have things that make us useful to the group.”

  “Even Luna?” Juno joked.

  “Yes,” Athena said seriously. “Even Luna.” Athena slipped a giant moonstone ring onto Juno’s finger. Then she opened up a tube of lipstick and held it up in front of her own mouth, preparing to speak into it. “These are both intended to be communication devices for us to use on our missions. Let’s see if they work, shall we?”

  “I have no doubt they’ll work perfectly,” Juno said with a sly grin. She hopped off the b
ed and stepped outside the girls’ room. She lifted the ring to her mouth and spoke into it softly, “From what I can tell, you don’t fail often, Athena. That’s what makes us such a good team.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Calling Athena,” Hera yelled into a small compact mirror after lunch the next day. “Are you there, Athena? Come in, Athena!”

  “Yes, Hera,” came Athena’s rather irritated reply a moment later. “I hear you, loud and clear. The communicators all seem to be working, so perhaps you should focus on getting yourself ready for our gig? Also, you don’t need to yell into the devices. You can speak into them in an ordinary voice and we’ll be able to hear you.”

  “Right!” Hera yelled. She stepped into the bedroom with the other girls and slipped the mirrored compact communicator into the pocket of her spy suit. The compact was one of six communication devices Athena had built. She had also turned a tube of lipstick, a moonstone ring, an enormous jeweled pendant, a nonfunctioning graphic design e-pen that Juno had found on Borana, and Rhea’s old-school watch into communicators. Whenever she had a few minutes (between band practice, songwriting sessions, and fight training with Juno), she spent them tinkering around, trying to assemble more devices—extending ropes and hooks, undetectable recording devices, spy glasses, portable tracking devices—that might help them on future missions. “These little talky things are so much fun to play with! I can’t wait to try them out on our next mission for … the Resistance.”

  “They’re not toys,” Athena snapped. “They’re tools. Part of our spy weaponry.”

  “That doesn’t mean they can’t be fun,” Rhea pointed out.

  “Know what’s even more fun?” Luna asked without turning away from the quick-moving wall of images that was splashed across the wall of the girls’ bedroom. She beamed, flicking through image after image of herself on stage. “We’re turning up in a lot more searches lately. It’s not just Bradbury’s fan site—when I search on Luna and the SPACEPOP, it turns up three hundred forty-three hits!”