Rocking the Resistance

by Erin Downing

  “That’s not candid,” Hera said, frowning. “You’re all posed.”

  “I am not,” Luna insisted. “I look awful. No lipstick or anything! This is so behind-the-scenes and candid I’m practically grotesque.”

  “I’ve seen you first thing in the morning,” Rhea said under her breath. She peeked around the corner of her own sleeping pod, half-dressed in her performance outfit. “That is grotesque.”

  Luna threw a tube of lipstick across the room. Hera snapped a quick photo just as Rhea ducked back inside her room to hide. While Luna continued to primp, Hera turned her attention to the pile of pets snoozing on the floor of the girls’ common room. When the girls were first introduced, none of the princesses’ pets had seemed excited about sharing his or her beloved owner with four other critters. But after just a few hours of sniffing and snuffing at one another, the five cuddly pets had become fast friends. Now they spent much of the day napping in a furry pile of mixed-up colors. The little critters loved to get up and dance while the girls rehearsed, and they were often invited along on Resistance missions to help in their own special way—each of the girls’ pets had strange quirks that made her useful from time to time.

  Hera crept forward and snapped a close-up of the snoozing pet pile. Juno’s shy pet, a purple fluffball called Skitter, opened one eye and burrowed deeper inside her pile of friends to hide from the camera. Rhea’s pet, a quirky blue critter called Springle, bounced out of the pile and knocked the camera out of Hera’s hands. Giggling, Hera fell over onto the floor and let the soft collection of pets jump on her and tickle her until she cried, “Peace! Peace!”

  “Hera, you better start getting ready,” Luna called out from in front of the mirror. “One hour until we go on.”

  Hera scooped up an armful of fluffy pets and rubbed their soft fur against her face. “Oh, I’m ready.”

  “Really?” Luna said, cocking an eyebrow. “Are you going to do something about your hair? It’s all frizzy from wrestling with the animals.”

  Rhea peeked out of her room again. Chuckling, she burst out, “Or maybe you could wear one of Geela’s wigs onstage?”

  Luna and Hera both cracked up along with her. Hera draped her own pet—a feisty pink critter named Roxie—across the top of her head and pretended she was wearing a wig. This made Luna and Rhea laugh even harder. Though the five princesses fought like real sisters much of the time, the group also had a lot of fun together. It helped that each girl had a small sleeping pod she could decorate in her own personal style. When one of them needed a break from the others to rest, relax, or (in the case of Hera) meditate, she could escape to her pod and sink into a space that felt safe and somewhat like home.

  The space bus was small and cramped compared with the palaces and grand homes the five princesses were all accustomed to living in, but it had been smartly designed to make the most of a small amount of space. There was a common living room in the center of the transport; Chamberlin had a small private room near the transport’s only bathroom; and the band’s roadie, Rand, slept hanging upside down in a minuscule supply closet whenever he needed to catch a few Zs (which was not often, as the four-armed alien came from a planet with very long days and almost no night). At the far back end of the space bus were the girls’ quarters, which had been broken into the five individual sleeping pods connected by a small living room that the girls used for hanging out, writing songs, and planning their missions.

  Now Athena stepped out of her private pod wearing her performance outfit for that night’s show. With only a quick glance in the mirror, she swept some lipstick over her lips and then settled down at her keyboard with a look of extreme concentration on her face. She and Luna had been working on writing a new song together for the past week or so, but they hadn’t gotten far. Band business had gone a little off-track while they’d prepped for their mission to search for the Dungeon of Dark Doom on Kantal-ka. “Anyone want to jam to warm up for tonight?” she asked. “I’m totally stuck on this new song. We’re going to need to drop a new hit soon to keep people excited about SPACEPOP, or we’ll be last week’s news.”

  Luna glanced at Athena in the mirror and waved her off. “You can’t rush greatness,” she told her. “True creative inspiration strikes when the time is right.”

  “I disagree,” Athena said pointedly. “I believe great songs come from a place of hard work, not luck.”

  “That’s where we differ,” Luna said, lining her lips in color. “Songs need to come from your heart. The words won’t arrive until they’re ready. You can’t force them to appear.”

  The other three girls and their pets swung their heads back and forth, watching the disagreement with great interest. Athena and Luna were about as different from each other as two girls could be, but when they wrote songs together, the result was almost always incredible. Luna had a true ear for how words fit together and—as she often pointed out—a singing voice that was second to none. Athena’s discipline and strict musical training gave her the perfect background for composing.

  “Your Highnesses,” Chamberlin said, stepping into the girls’ common room just before the argument escalated any further. “Pardon the interruption, but I have news.”

  “Ooh, news!” Luna said. “Fan mail?”

  “No, not fan mail,” Chamberlin said. “Actually, perhaps it is something like fan mail. Just not the kind you might be hoping for. We’ve had a message.”

  “Is it about our parents?” Juno said hopefully, stepping out of her room. Juno and Hera were closer to their parents than any of the other princesses. Athena and Luna both loved their parents, of course, but their relationships were a bit more distant and formal than Juno’s and Hera’s. Rhea didn’t know her parents at all. She had spent her early years in an orphanage, learning about her royal heritage only when she was six—so the king and queen of Rhealo were not her actual parents but connected to her distantly by ancient blood. “Have you received some message from them?”

  “I’m sorry, no.” Chamberlin cleared his throat, a nervous tic. “I’ve had a message from the empress’s live entertainment network. The band Arion IV has had to cancel their performance on The Geela Hour tomorrow night. The producers are looking for a backup band, and they’ve asked me—your, uh, manager—if you would be willing.”

  “To perform live in front of millions of galaxy fans?” Luna shrieked. “Oh my Grock! Obviously, the answer is—”

  “No,” Juno snapped, cutting her off. “We are not going to support one of Geela’s shows. I’m not singing for that beast or anyone who works for her. Absolutely not.”

  Hera held up a hand. “It would be great exposure. And Arion IV is our biggest competition for the slot at the top of the charts, so it would be fun to take their place and make them regret canceling.”

  “We could perform ‘Unstoppable,’” Rhea added. “We’ve only had the chance to play it at a few shows, and this would be a great opportunity to debut it for a larger audience. It’s ready for a bigger stage.”

  “Rhea and Hera are right,” Athena said. “It is great exposure. We’ve never had an audience this size. And the more people who have a chance to hear our songs—especially one like ‘Unstoppable’—the more we’re doing the job we set out to do of spreading our message of peace, freedom, and rebellion to the rest of the galaxy.”

  Juno glared at each of the other princesses. “Seriously?”

  “Besides, the last thing we need to do is make ourselves targets for Geela by saying no,” Athena pointed out.

  “Fine,” Juno said. “But I’m not smiling during the shoot. Not once.”

  Rhea grinned. “Not even if we bump into Geela in the hall and I pull the wig right off her horrible head?”

  Juno fought against it, but eventually the smile snuck out. “If that happens, maybe I’ll smile. But no promises.”

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  “So tell me, SPACEPOP…” The band had just wrapped their set, and now Tam, the charming l
ate-night host of The Geela Hour, leaned across his enormous glossy desk to begin his interview with the five girls. He spoke to them in a low, conspiratorial voice. “What’s your secret?”

  “Secret?” Luna squeaked, tugging her bouffant of hair over one half of her face. She and the other girls exchanged nervous looks. What did Tam know? For a brief moment, Luna regretted agreeing to do the live after-show TV interview. The band could have easily made some excuse about needing to hustle off set to hit the space highway to make it to their next gig, but no. Someone (maybe, possibly even Luna herself) had insisted that they needed the publicity and should go ahead and take the interview. “Wh-what secret?”

  Tam laughed and pounded his chair. “The secret to your success! How do you do it? Tell me everything!”

  “Oh,” Rhea said, laughing nervously. “That secret.”

  Tam’s eyebrows flew up. “Are there other secrets I should know about?”

  “None,” Athena snapped, cutting him off before the host pressed further. “I’ll begin, if that’s all right?” Tam nodded, encouraging her to go on. Athena rested her chin in her hand, trying to spread her fingers so they would cover as much of her face as possible. Unlike Rhea, who often wore a hat, and Luna, who had all that hair to hide behind—she, Juno, and Hera had to be extra careful in front of the cameras. She turned toward Tam so the cameras would be able to capture only her profile. She took a deep breath, hoping for the best. “I am confident the secret to our success is this: we truly believe in the songs we sing. Our music imparts a message each one of us feels strongly about. Additionally, we’ve all had extensive musical training—”

  Tam cut her off, his enormous eyes practically bulging out of his slim head. “Is that so? Tell me more!”

  “Oh,” Athena said, realizing a little too late that most nearby galaxies didn’t offer extensive music education to anyone. Music lessons were usually a privilege reserved for the very rich—or royal. The SPACEPOP girls hadn’t ever gone into a lot of detail about their backgrounds with reporters, obviously, and none of them wanted to get into it now. “Well, by that I don’t mean … or rather … uh…” For once, Athena was flustered.

  Juno broke in, hoping to shift the focus away from the girls’ lives before SPACEPOP. “I think what Athena is trying to say is not that we’ve had extensive professional training, but that we’ve all worked hard to perfect our craft because we just love to make music. It wasn’t simple to figure out what works, but now here we are. The most important thing the galaxy should know is, we work well together. It’s not always easy to get along as a group of five, but it’s essential to making the band work.”

  Tam nodded. “Together, eh? So do you write your songs as a group?”

  “Mostly, yes,” Athena said, finally recovering.

  “That’s not true!” Hera cut in, her black curls bobbing around her face as she smiled merrily. “They’re both too modest to admit it, but the truth is Luna and Athena usually take the lead. The rest of us chime in from time to time with a few lines, but they’re both really talented when it comes to songwriting.”

  “Aha!” said Tam. “So the truth comes out! So are you saying Athena and Luna are the leaders of the band?”

  Luna—who had never before been accused of modesty—nodded vigorously, while Athena frowned and shook her head. Luna glanced over at her songwriting partner and stopped nodding. “We all play an equal part in this band,” Athena said curtly. “We don’t have a leader.”

  “Except Chamberlin!” Rhea chimed in, a mischievous grin on her face. “Our manager, of course.”

  “Chamberlin,” Tam said, stroking his chin. “I wanted to speak with you about him. He’s an unusual choice for a manager. No previous experience in the industry, but he seems to be doing an impressive job ushering you girls into the limelight.” The host leaned forward and whispered, “I hope you’re paying him enough, or some other band may snatch him up.”

  “Oh, I highly doubt that,” Rhea said.

  “Moving on!” Tam burst out suddenly, apparently done talking about Chamberlin. “Tell us more about your lives before SPACEPOP. The universe wants to know everything. Any fun stories about the girls behind the legends?”

  “Legends?” Rhea said with a grin, cocking an eyebrow. “Really, Tam? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  Hera raised her hand. “I’ll take this one, if I may?” She glanced at her bandmates for approval. They all reluctantly nodded, unsure of how Hera would answer the question. “I’m sure everyone has figured out by now that I love animals. All critters—big or small, slimy or soft—are dear to my heart, and most of my stories from childhood involve me playing outside with pets or wild creatures. But here’s something you probably don’t know about me: I absolutely love moonberry crackle! And one of my fondest memories from childhood is sneaking into the kitchen to steal spoonfuls of the batter before the cooks—”

  “Cooks?” Tam burst in.

  “M-my mother!” Hera said, recovering quickly with a small white lie. “My mother and her friends loved to cook together. They always asked me to call them Cook when they were in the kitchen.”

  “That’s very sweet,” Tam said. “And itty-bitty Hera would sneak into the kitchen and snatch a taste?”

  “That’s right,” Hera said. She laughed. “But once, I was too greedy and I accidentally knocked over the whole pod of batter. I can still remember the look on my mother’s face when she saw me sitting there on the floor surrounded by a sugary-sweet mess.” Suddenly, Hera stopped talking. Her eyes filled with tears. She missed her parents terribly and longed for the day when she would see them again.

  Tam smiled sympathetically, then asked, “Do you get back to see your families often, or does your tour schedule keep you too busy for family?”

  “We’re working on a trip to see our parents right now,” Juno said. “It’s tough to find the time, but if our plan—er, schedule—works out, we should reunite with them soon.”

  “Wonderful, wonderful,” Tam said.

  “I have a story, too!” Luna said, realizing she hadn’t been in the spotlight nearly enough—and also that her contract with Solar Glow required that she mention the product whenever she was doing interviews. “So when I was very young, I didn’t know how to manage my hair. It’s naturally wavy and very, very thick.”

  “May I?” Tam asked, smirking as he reached out a long-fingered hand to touch Luna’s hair.

  “Of course,” Luna giggled, holding a clump of her hair in his direction. “Well, I used to get the most awful tangles. The palace—”

  “Palace?”

  Luna’s fair skin grew even paler as she blinked at Tam. “That’s a little joke my parents and I shared. We used to call our home the palace, to make it feel more spacious than it actually was.”

  Tam grinned out at the studio audience. “How sublime!”

  Luna chewed her lip. She gave Tam a look, and then said, “May I continue?” He nodded, and she went on. “One morning, I woke up and my hair was so tangled and messy that I couldn’t even brush through it. I decided the only way I could possibly fix it was by cutting the tangles out. So I got a pair of scissors and started cutting away knots.”

  The audience gasped, then began laughing.

  “I’m sure you can see where this is going,” Luna said, laughing along with them. “You can only imagine; I looked dreadful! Luckily, it wasn’t long after that I discovered Solar Glow. Their deep conditioner really helps keep my hair sleek and smooth. It’s a miracle worker.” She grinned, proud that she had figured out a way to slip a product endorsement into a true story. “I even use it on Adora’s fur sometimes.” Luna leaned backward and searched the wings of the stage for her small pink pet. “Adora, sweetheart, where are you? Come out here and show this nice host and all the lovely guests your pretty fur.” Adora raced out of the wings.

  While the studio audience cheered and whooped, Rhea, Athena, and Juno all breathed a sigh of relief that Luna was somehow managing to di
vert Tam’s attention from their own childhood stories. Rhea, who had a very specific and well-known childhood—raised as an orphan before her royal blood was discovered and she was moved to the palace—could think of no stories that wouldn’t give her away. Athena, who had been raised in a firm, strict household, had no “fun” stories of childhood. And Juno preferred to keep her family and personal life—both of which she cherished and fiercely missed—as private as possible. She rarely even talked about her family or past on Junoia with the other princesses.

  “Look at this little sweetheart!” Tam shrieked, calling Adora up onto his lap. “What a love!” Adora, who was never unkind to anyone, nuzzled into Tam’s arms and instantly charmed him. “Now, this reminds me of something else I wanted to ask the band about. Tonight, while you were performing, it was impossible to miss your pets doing a little show of their own onstage. Was it my imagination, or were they … beatboxing with you?! Was that planned?”

  Luna giggled, somehow making it seem like they hadn’t been just as surprised as everyone else about their pets’ newfound musical skills. The five little critters really had been beatboxing up onstage—which was both strange and wonderful, a shock to them all. “They’re a talented group,” Luna said, winking. “We’re very proud of them.”

  Tam patted Adora and plopped her up on the surface of his news desk. “This has been absolutely wonderful,” he said. “But unfortunately, we’ll have to save the rest of the band’s childhood stories for our next meeting. We need to take a short break. But when we come back—this week’s Dancing with the Empress castoff will show us some moves to get your body shaking! Don’t go anywhere.”

  Someone on set yelled “Cut,” and Tam leaped up. “Wonderful, SPACEPOP. Absolutely wonderful. Thank you so much for being marvelous guests tonight. I’m so sorry you weren’t able to meet the empress live and in person, but perhaps next time you visit me on set we can arrange for a meet-and-greet.”