Lissa was astounded. One glance at the faces of the others showed her feelings were mirrored by their own.
“What a range that girl must have,” Ash whistled softly. “She can reach the mind of an alien being on another planet?”
Octi tilted his head at this. “Thought does not travel in time or space, Mr. Ash. For a Friss, it is a matter of knowing the identity, not the location.”
Ash shook his head, incredulous. “But the brain operates on electronic impulses! How can they reach across space and time?” “Why, you Earthlings don’t really believe that you think with your brain, do you?” Octi chortled. “What an absurd idea!”
Lissa sat back thoughtfully. It was true, what Lollipop could do made little sense if the human neurologists’ theories were correct. Well, the proof was in the pudding, she supposed.
“Alright, let’s talk to Lollipop,” she said and stood. The others did as well and Lissa looked them over. “Ash, you’ve had enough excitement, I think. Get some rest. Shiro takes the next watch. Octi, are we safe here in orbit?”
“Aye, Captain. Earth does not have the technology to detect us.”
Lissa thought she rather liked the nautical way Octi treated her. “Then you are relieved,” she told him. “Shika take the helm. We’ll call Octi up if we have anywhere particular to go, but I think we can chill here for a few hours.”
Mrs. Phelps stood also, taking Lissa’s assumption of command in stride, a fact that made Lissa’s heart pinch with love for her mother.
“If it’s alright, I’d like to lie down for a bit. This has been a wearing day.”
“Sure, Mom,” she said. “Shika, can you find some guest quarters around here?” “I am sure there is such a space for passengers,” Shika assured them both. “Follow me, please.” Lissa left the cabin and immediately spotted Lollipop. The pink alien was creeping along the deck after a cricket, which must have hopped aboard while they hovered just above the lawn. Lollipop’s two stalk eyes were fixed on the bug as she shuffled forward on her pink webbed toes, quietly following it along the planks toward the forward mast. Lissa took a moment to admire the little furry creature’s fascination for what must to her seem just as alien as she was to humankind.
“Lollipop,” she called softly, loath to interrupt her adventure but focused on reaching Stephanie and Mr. Piff. “Can you come here? I need your help.”
Lollipop broke off her pursuit of the cricket and with just as much enthusiasm hopped up to Lissa and turned her big dark eyes up to the girl. As they gazed at each other, Lissa felt a pressure in her mind—a question. What did she want from Lollipop? She concentrated, picturing Stephanie as clearly as she could ... the way her black hair fell in straight lines 43 down her shoulders, her almond eyes, the pout she often used to get her way. Lissa felt her mind drifting for a moment, and then suddenly she saw an image that was unfamiliar.
It was like watching a 3D video of walking down a hallway. The image turned left and right, as though the videographer were checking the place out, every once in a while glancing down at the toes of the person walking. With a shock, Lissa identified those shoes: Stephanie’s! She and Lollipop were inside her friend’s mind, staring out at the hallway she was in.
“Stephanie!” she cried mentally. “Can you hear me?”
“Lissa?” Stephanie’s thought was as clear as if she had spoken aloud. “What ...?”
“Lollipop,” Lissa explained. She got a flash of an image as Stephanie thought about Lollipop and comprehended that they must be using telepathy to speak to each other. A darker thought flickered and Lissa got an image of a boy at school and something Stephanie didn’t want Lissa to see about him.
“Never mind that!” she “said,” not caring what crush Stephanie wanted to hide. She would never intrude on her best friend’s secrets. She tried to keep her mental touch light so as not pick up anything else Stephanie was afraid of her knowing. “Is Mr. Piff alive?”
Lollipop seemed to sense their discomfort. Lissa felt a different sort of pressure from her, and suddenly she knew that, by intending not to read Stephanie’s mind without her permission, she could control what she heard. Stephanie gave a mental sigh of relief, and the two girls concentrated on the question at hand.
“Yes, he’s fine,” Stephanie assured her. “He took a bad shot, and his people aren’t used to projectile weapons—they only had medical supplies for laser burns aboard. But I showed them how to staunch the bleeding, and then they understood it was a bullet and rushed him to the healing center here. He’s in Recovery.”
“That’s a relief. What’s the plan to get you home? Your parents must be worried about you.”
“We sent them a message,” Stephanie assured her. “Some alien device undetectable by the OneWorld, apparently. They replied agreeing I should stay under Mr. Piff’s care until this whole thing has blown over.”
Lissa thought about that. If Stephanie stayed with Mr. Piff, then she would be safe from the OWSF. But how safe was a Space Patrol craft for a human girl? She could sense that Stephanie was wearing a breathing mask and saw from the view through her eyes that the hallways were stark, if clean. It was like asking a refugee to stay on a coast-guard patrol ship—she might be safe from her own people but a lot of things could happen in space. What if they were attacked or had to take on pirates like Captain Nask?
“Mr. Piff says he’s been granted a leave to stay with me while he’s recovering,” Stephanie told her. “We didn’t know what had happened to you, and the 32nd Patrol captain planned to go back to Earth right away for a rescue mission if necessary.”
“I’m fine,” Lissa told her. “Ash rescued me!”
She projected a picture of Ash flying through the air with his new suit of armor. “He’s like a dark knight,” she joked. “I’m glad you guys are safe.”
“We should meet up somewhere,” Lissa added. At that moment, Stephanie turned a corner in the hallway and the door before her had a sign that read, “Mr. Arthur Piff, combat recovery.”
Stephanie entered the room and Lissa saw Mr. Piff sitting up in a bed that hovered above the ground, several odd pieces of machinery lying about him. A patch of fur had been shaved away to facilitate removal of the bullet, and his four eyes were closed, but as they approached, she could see he was breathing evenly.
One eye opened as they approached, and Stephanie hit a button over his head.
“Translator on,” said a pretty female voice.
“Mr. Piff, Lissa is talking to me via Lollipop,” Stephanie cried.
“That is excellent news,” the translator told her as Mr. Piff squeaked. “Everyone onboard and safe, then?”
“Yes,” Lissa thought at Stephanie. “Including my mom. OWSF tried to take her when they failed to keep hold of me.” (This is a very strange conversation, she thought, very privately to herself.)
“We must rendezvous on Europa,” Mr. Piff told them both after Stephanie relayed Lissa’s thoughts to him. “Octi can steer you to the capital city there, and from there we will decide on the best course of action.”
Lissa was quite relieved to know he would help them. She had no idea what to do next.
Disconnecting from Lollipop’s mind, after a mental hug to Stephanie and farewell to Mr. Piff, Lissa sat at the helm beside Shika and watched the sun sink over the horizon of the Earth. Stars winked into view in the east and cities glowed like firebugs on the surface below as they stood watch, the autopilot silent and the ship’s wheel unmoving as they lay anchored in geostationary orbit.
Lissa thought about what lay ahead of them. She thought of her friends left behind at St. Lucia’s Academy. None of them as close to her as Stephanie, but still she missed them. She even thought about Mr. Sufflet and how the Swiss man was probably terribly worried about his two missing students. And she thought about Timothy Rocksquatter and Mr. Bilderbus. Her thoughts about those two were grim. Somehow, she would see an end to their plans for an enslaved, ignorant Earth. Somehow.
To Sail the S
tars
“I strongly suggest you go into protective exile,” Mr. Piff was urging Mrs. Phelps, his squeaks translated for her by a bot hovering between them. His ribs were wrapped in a stark white bandage that made his solemn words all the more impinging as he fixed his four eyes on the tall human woman.
Lissa watched from a distance, pretending to be engrossed in her tinkering of the Forty-Five’s steam boiler. Her head was cocked to one side as she listened intently to her mom’s reply.
“Where would you place us?” Mrs. Phelps asked, seriously considering the idea. “There are quite a few inhabited worlds similar in atmosphere and gravitic strength to Earth,” Mr. Piff assured her. “A cultural hub such as Orion VI would be a perfect hiding spot—so many beings from millions of worlds; their very diversity will disguise you.”
Mrs. Phelps nodded her assent.
Lissa sighed softly in relief. Pausing in her pretend tinkering, she gazed out at the massive ball that was Jupiter, glowing orange and red above them as they orbited Europa, and contemplated the next move for them both.
When she had first brought her mom aboard, Lissa had been afraid she would try to take over the Forty-Five and order them all home. But her mother had quickly grasped the importance of staying in space and made no move to place the ship under her own charge. She seemed content to allow Lissa to act as captain, although the girl wondered how her mother would react when she realized Lissa was not coming with her into protective exile. She had no intention of hiding. Timothy Rocksquatter and the Earth president had already sold humans into space as slaves. There was nothing and no one to stop them but her—and she had come out here to Europa to meet with Mr. Piff and tell him just that.
But first, her mother needed to be safe. She hoped Stephanie would come with her, but if she was too afraid, the Lissa would go alone. Not alone, she reminded herself, looking across the deck at her crew. A spark of pride hit her as she saw Ash on the upper deck, listening to Octi’s instruction on how to use the sunsail telltales to know where the invisible solar winds were blowing from. Shika sat a short ways away with Lollipop on her lap, the latter telepathically implanting English into her mind like a sort of alien Rosetta Stone. Shiro had Rasta on his wrist, whispering softly to the eagle, who preened under his attention.
Yes, Lissa felt sure her crew would come with her, to the ends of this galaxy if need be. She knew from talking to them over the last four days that each loved Earth and would do anything to save their people from enslavement in the black of space.
As Mrs. Phelps and Arthur Piff made plans for their safety, Lissa finished her inspection of the steam engine and began to gather up her crew. They made ready for launch and secured their new cargo—a thousand pounds of fresh blueberries, which they had picked up off a blueberry farmer before heading into space. The farmer had been very happy to exchange his large crop for the solid bar of gold they had found in Captain Nask’s bedroom underneath his pillow. How he had slept soundly without getting a crick in the neck was anyone’s wonder, but Lissa supposed his greed must have outweighed any creature comforts.
It would take three days to reach Sagittarius Prime from Europa, and Lissa hoped to sell their cargo to the highest bidder. Sagittarius apparently had a large Corian population, and so Lissa had every reason to expect that, after thousands of years of embargo on Earth blueberries, the fruit would sell fast. Yet still she hesitated. A nagging feeling churned in the back of her mind, for she really had no idea what to do after that. She would have money, yes, and would have excited an interest in Earth commerce, but that was not really what she had set out to do. She needed to talk to Mr. Piff, she realized.
She waited until her mother had found a room to her liking in the guest wing of the Europa Space Tower. Once she had disembarked, the crew assembled and Lissa used Lollipop to call Stephanie and Mr. Piff aboard.
Shiro crouched in the darkness topside as the two visitors appeared via MTrans. They had left the deck unlit so as not to attract attention to their covert meeting. When the golden glow faded, he jiggled a hand in their direction until they saw him and jerked his head that they both should follow. First Stephanie, then Mr. Piff fell into step behind him as he led the way down into the cargo bay. Stephanie gave a little shudder as she passed the glass walls but otherwise was unperturbed to be once again aboard the slave ship that had kidnapped her.
Mr. Piff’s eyes were wide and alert as he took in Ash and Shika standing guard, ray pistols in holsters at their sides, wearing matching black microbot armor. Shiro took up position on Lissa’s right, and Octi clung to her shoulder like a rather odd shawl.
As the two guests stopped before her, Lissa said, “I’ve asked you here, Mr. Piff, for two reasons.” Her words were confident, almost sharp. Piff’s four eyes never left hers.
“I want Stephanie aboard when we sail tonight.” Her eyes flickered to her friend. Stephanie nodded solemnly as though she had already guessed. The two girls were not best friends for nothing.
“And,” Lissa added, “I want to know what you think of all this political nonsense, and what you think our best course of action would be.”
“Space Patrol is not a political entity.”
“Sure,” Ash started, “but—”
“You know a lot about the current state of the galaxy,” Lissa interrupted. “Not just this galaxy. You know about the universe—who is out there, what they’re up to. You were not surprised at the attack back on Earth.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “You thought they might try something like that.”
It was just a guess, but it was proved right when Mr. Piff grinned and nodded his head.
“I would have been more surprised if Timothy Rocksquatter had not tried some way to get leverage over his planetary representative. He is a cruel one; that whole family is.”
“You're not just a law enforcement dude, are you?” Stephanie crossed her arms, “What I saw on board your ship...you're like, not even from this galaxy.”
“Space Patrol is based in the Andromeda Galaxy,” Mr. Piff admitted, “Our purpose is more than law enforcement, it's true—but more than that I cannot say.”
“Because its confidential,” Ash guessed.
“Indeed.”
“Fine. So you know a lot about space politics. What do you think the Jesters will do next?” Lissa asked him.
“They will pretend it never happened. They will solidify their position on Earth using their connections in the press. Probably they will give some excuse to Anubis not to ratify your contract and simply go back to selling slaves on the side.”
“How do we prevent it?”
“You want to prevent them from selling the slaves? Or you want to remove them from power entirely?”
Lissa smiled grimly. “You said it.” She leaned forward, emphasizing her words with an unblinking glare into his four almond eyes. “I want Earth free ... Did you see the way Rocksquatter creeped out on Stephanie the moment he saw her? And then he went after my mom.” Her hands shook with fury. “There is no way he’s gonna touch my family.”
“Earth should live by her own production, not sell her people off to be dog food or slaves,” said Shiro.
“We have a lot we could offer this galaxy,” Lissa added. “There must be someone out there who would deal with us fairly. I want to find that someone, or several someones. We need allies. That’s how the Allies won the World Wars—they brought in friends.”
“There’s always a bigger fish,” Octi chimed in.
“Indeed,” Mr. Piff agreed. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Your first choice should be to appear as a legitimate representative. Take your cargo to Jeropul and the bazaar there—sell your blueberries to the highest bidder. You will need credits. I will contact Anubis and tell him you are coming to Sagittarius Prime. I will tell him you are still Earth ambassador, that you have the contract, and you are going to file it with the GTC Office on Sagittarius. They will have no choice but to endorse it. But...watch out for assassins...” His eyes rested p
articularly on Ash and Shika. “You two must keep Lissa safe. And Stephanie as well, as I expect you will want to take her with you.”
“Damn straight!” Steph interjected. She jutted her chin out, a hand on one hip.
He shook his head. “Such stubborn pups.” But Lissa could see he was secretly pleased with them. To her, he said, “What will I tell your mother?”
“Tell her the truth,” Lissa said, her throat tight. She knew her mom would ground her indefinitely when they got back, but ... “We have no other choice. Would she really want me to let all of Earth be sold off, manipulated, and fed to the wolves so I could be safe?”
“She is your mother,” Mr. Piff pointed out. “Of course that’s what she wants. But I will tell her nonetheless.”
When Piff had disembarked again, they raised anchor and silently floated away on the first rays of light over Jupiter.
Jeropul Bazaar
Lollipop bounced happily along the deck, her bright pink fur fresh from the morning bath Shika had given her. Her two eyestalks twisted this way and that, taking in the bright new day as the ship surfed along a stiff solar breeze, golden sails taut and curved against the invisible sun motes that sped them along their course. Lissa gave the Friss an absent scratch, feeling the peach fuzz soft and tickly between her fingertips as she gazed out at the passing stars, her other hand on a spoke of the ship’s wheel. She was slouched low in a cushioned seat Ash had dug up somewhere. Her left foot, shod in her favorite Converse sneaker, was pressed up against the glass of the atmosphere canopy above her head, with the other tucked underneath her. The wheel jerked slightly under her hand. The autopilot program directing the ship’s course left her really nothing to do, but she felt reassured with her hand resting on the smooth wood of the helm—it felt as though she could seize back control of her life at any moment by a firm tug of the cedar spoke.
Space Patrol! Page 8