War on Whimsy (18 page)

“Just concentrate on what you're
doing
, Henry,” said Greta. “Instead of constantly thinking about how you're
feeling
.”

For once, Nicola was in complete agreement with Greta.

It was strange entering
into
a prison camp, when Nicola's every instinct told her to run in the other direction. At first, the place seemed silent and deserted. There were no guards or prisoners in sight.

Then Nicola heard a familiar voice.

“I
knew
it! I must be the smartest person in the galaxy!”

It was Princess Petronella, standing at the doorway of a building beneath a sign saying FOOD HALL.

“Hi! How are you?” called out Nicola, filled with sudden affection for the princess. There was something comforting about seeing her familiar, self-absorbed face in these frightening surroundings.

“I'm a genius,” answered the princess seriously. “I have amazing powers of observation! I noticed that the girl delivering the food looked nervous and I said to myself,
I bet that food is poisoned.
Then I thought,
I bet the Space Brigade is behind it!
So I didn't touch a crumb, even though I'm famished! Just when I think I couldn't be any smarter, I outdo myself!”

“You're so modest, too,” said Sean.

“It's nice to see you again, Princess Petronella,” said Katie.

“Yes, I imagine it would be very nice for you,” said the princess. “Tell me, what poison have you used? Are they all about to die painful deaths?”

Nicola and the others walked into the dining hall and looked around curiously. A number of tables had been set up for breakfast. There was a big sign at one end saying,

 

THE VOLCOMANIAN PRISON CAMP WELCOMES OUR FINE AND CLEVER PRESIDENT, MRS. MANIA!

The room was perfectly silent, except for the low rumbling sound of people snoring.

Everywhere Nicola looked she could see sleeping guards. Some of them had fallen asleep on their breakfast plates, cheeks comfortably cushioned on sausages. Others were sitting upright in their chairs, heads tipped back, mouths wide open, and forks still gripped in their hands.The horrible guard who had reminded Sean and Nicola of the school bully had landed face-first in his scrambled eggs, where he was snoring like a snuffly pig.

At the end of the hall was a raised platform with a long table that had obviously been set up for the guests of honor. Mrs. Mania was sleeping peacefully with her head cradled in her arms. She didn't look at all forbidding when she was asleep—in fact, she looked quite nice. On her left was her son, who was sleeping with his chin on his chest, his hands still clutching his knife and fork. On Mrs. Mania's right was an empty chair with an untouched plate of food that was obviously Princess Petronella's.

“They're just sleeping,” Nicola explained to Princess Petronella. “They're not going to die violent deaths.”

“Oh good,” said Princess Petronella. “I would have been quite disappointed to see Marty Mania die.” She pointed at Mrs. Mania's sleeping son. “He might look like a toad, but I've become quite fond of him. I've decided to add him to my collection of ‘friends.' I've got so many now! I might actually need to cut back.”

She narrowed her eyes at the Space Brigade as if trying to decide which of her friends she didn't need.

“Oh, by the way, this is the president of Whimsy!” Nicola awkwardly gestured at Henry Sweet. She was always forgetting the right way to introduce people. “Ah, Henry Sweet, this is Princess Petronella. Princess Petronella, Henry Sweet.”

“I am honored to meet you,” said Henry with a sweeping bow.

“You certainly are,” agreed Princess Petronella with a sniff.

“Ah, Nicola, we'd better not chat for too long,” Sean reminded her. “We haven't got long before they start waking up.”

“Yes, you're right,” said Nicola. “Let's go, everybody!”

Everyone pulled out coils of rope from their bags. (They had gotten the rope from Poppy the waitress's mother. She had been a tightrope artist before her arthritis started acting up.)

The night before, Greta had trained them all on various knots she had learned at Girl Scouts, such as the Double Fisherman's Knot. Today they were using the skills to tie each guard securely to a chair.

It was hard work. The guards were big people and they were sleeping so deeply their arms and legs were floppy and heavy.

Nicola's fingers ached and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Henry had estimated that it would take about an hour before the effects of the rose petals wore off and people started to wake up. They had thought that would be plenty of time.

“We're never going to finish before they wake up,” said Shimlara desperately from the front of the room, where she was tying up the sleeping Mrs. Mania.

“If only we had more people to help,” agreed Greta.

“You've got plenty of people who would be more than happy to help,” commented Princess Petronella, who wasn't being much help herself, relaxing in a chair with her feet up on one of the tables.

“What do you mean?” said Nicola, and then she slapped herself lightly on the forehead.

She went through the pocket of the sleeping guard she was tying up and found a heavy set of keys.

“We need to release the prisoners!”

Releasing the prisoners was a wonderful experience.

They were being held in a narrow concrete building. Each tiny, dark, damp cell held so many prisoners they had to sit in rows with their knees held tightly to their chests. Some of them were scaly-skinned Volcomanians who must have been protesting against the war. Others were pale, beautiful Whimsians, who must have done something to annoy the invading army.

When Nicola unlocked each gate, the prisoners stared up at her without saying a word, their eyes dull and dirty, their thin faces full of sad resignation, assuming she was just another guard. When she said, “You're free!” they were transformed. First there was shock and disbelief, followed by relief and delight. Some of them whooped with joy. Others cried with happiness and wanted to hug Nicola.

“Hurry! Hurry!” she told them. “We need your help!” As Nicola unlocked each cell, the rest of the Space Brigade led the prisoners away to help with tying up the guards.

Shimlara had been craning over Nicola's shoulder, looking for her family. Finally she found them in the very last cell. With their long Globagaskarian legs, they looked especially uncomfortable in the cramped conditions. Squid had his thumb in his mouth and his head resting against his mother's shoulder. Mully had her eyes closed as she leaned against the back wall of the cell. Georgio, who had obviously been released from solitary confinement, was sitting next to his wife and son with his forehead resting on his kneecaps.

It was Squid who caught sight of Shimlara first. He took his thumb out of his mouth and grinned widely at his big sister.

“Shimlara,” he said clearly.

“Yes, darling,” said Mully tiredly, without opening her eyes. “We'll see Shimlara soon, I promise.”

“You can see me right now,” said Shimlara.

Mully's eyes flew open. Georgio's head jerked up like a jack-in-the-box.

“Shimlara!” cried Mully.

Nicola unlocked the gate and the prisoners all got to their feet with difficulty and walked out into the corridor.

“I told you we'd be out of here soon!” said Georgio triumphantly. He clapped one of the other prisoners who had been sharing their cell on the shoulder. “That's my daughter I was telling you about!”

“I must admit I was rather beginning to think she was a figment of your imagination,” smiled the prisoner, a short, fuzzy-haired lady with pink apple cheeks. She didn't look like she was from Volcomania or the Planet of Whimsy. She wasn't an Earthling, but for some reason she seemed slightly familiar to Nicola.

Shimlara, Mully, and Georgio rushed together for a family hug.

“I kept thinking of how frightened you must have been when you got home and found the house deserted and that half-written note from your father,” said Mully, her face buried in Shimlara's curly hair.

“I was fine,” Shimlara reassured her. “I got right on the phone with the Space Brigade.”

“Blanket?” asked Squid hopefully.

“Oh yes, I forgot!” Shimlara pulled the dirty blue square from her pocket. Squid grabbed it and hugged it rapturously.

“Well, as much as I enjoyed the company, I'm very happy to be out of that cell,” said the familiar gray-haired lady, stretching her arms over her head.

“Me too,” said another tall, thin, gray-haired woman. Nicola noted with interest that her skin was deep green: the exact same color as a well-watered front lawn.

“We've been lucky enough to meet some quite distinguished people during our stay here,” said Georgio to Nicola, as if he'd been at a cocktail party, not a prison camp. “May I present the
United Aunts
!”

Nicola realized that the other prisoners who had shared the Gorgioskio cell were all gray-haired, gracious, intelligent-looking women. Judging by their varying shapes, sizes, and skin colors, they were all from different planets. This was confirmed when each stepped forward, bowed her head, and said the name of the planet she was representing.

Nicola didn't recognize most of the planet names. (For example, the woman with green skin said she was representing the Planet of Clock.) However, there were a few that she did recognize. An extremely tall woman with a noticeably large nose said she represented the Planet of Globagaskar.

A beautiful woman carrying a flute, with long gray hair that nearly touched the ground, said she represented the Planet of Whimsy. A gray-haired, scaly-skinned woman said, “I'm somewhat ashamed to say I represent the Planet of Volcomania.”

Next was the short, fuzzy-haired lady. She smiled at Nicola. “I think you may know my planet. I represent Shobble.”

“My planet is a different place thanks to the Space Brigade,” said the aunt. All the other aunts looked impressed and Nicola blushed.

Then a slight woman with cropped gray hair stepped out from behind Georgio.

Nicola gasped. “I think you may know my planet, too,” said the woman briskly.

Nicola was trying to speak, but no words were coming out of her mouth. She had never been so surprised to see someone in her entire life.

“As you probably guessed,” said Nicola's crazy great-aunt Annie, “I represent Earth.”

“
Great-aunt Annie?
” Nicola finally managed to speak.

Sean was back in the Food Hall helping to tie up the sleeping guards. She wished he were here to share her shock at this unexpected surprise.

“Those dreadful Volcomanians kidnapped me from your great-grandmother's birthday party just a few minutes after you left,” said Great-aunt Annie.

“
You're
one of the United Aunts?” stammered Nicola.

“What's so surprising about that?” said Great-aunt Annie.

“Most Earthlings don't even believe in the existence of life on other planets,” said Nicola out loud. “I wouldn't have thought Earth would have a representative.”

“That's why there weren't many applicants for the position,” admitted Great-aunt Annie. “There was an advertisement in my local paper about ten years ago. I think
most people
thought it was a joke, but I thought,
why not
? They wanted an adventurous aunt with a strong sense of morality who was committed to achieving intergalactic peace. I met all the criteria! I remember I tried to tell the family when I got the position but everyone just thought I'd lost my marbles. So nowadays I pretend to be as clueless about intergalactic life as ordinary Earthlings. That's why when Shimlara called for you at Grammy's party, I put on a little act. I don't know why I bother. You all still think I'm quite crazy!”

“Oh, no we don't,” said Nicola unconvincingly.

“Do you think we should postpone all these family reunions for another time?” said a rather cranky-looking aunt from the Planet of Doom. “There
is
a war going on.”

“You're right,” said Mully. She stopped patting Shimlara's hair and she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “What's your strategy, Nicola?”

Nicola was always amazed at the way Shimlara's mother could be transformed from ordinary mom to experienced soldier and back again in a matter of seconds.

“We put rose petals in the guards' food to make them sleep,” she said. “We're tying them up at the moment. Then we'll—anyway, I'll explain the rest later.” She was suddenly worried that Mully would think their strategy was dumb.

“Sounds like you're doing a great job,” said Mully with encouragement.

“I do hope you're not going against the United Aunts' ‘Play Nice' Guidelines,” said the plump aunt who represented the Planet of Plenty. “The United Aunts do not condone nastiness.”

“Er—we're tying them up as nicely as possible,” said Nicola.

When they got back to the hall, they found Tyler and Katie tying the last of the guards to chairs.

“The prisoners were
very
enthusiastic about helping,” said Sean to Nicola. His eyes widened. “
Great-aunt Annie?
”

“Is that my president
tied to a chair
?” said the aunt who represented Volcomania. She pointed at Mrs. Mania, who was still sleeping in spite of the ropes tying her to the chair. “When she wakes up she is going to be
furious
!”