He looked at Dexter to see if he understood. “Your name is Boris,” Dexter said, realizing they actually had a way to communicate. He was beginning to think the monkeys were more intelligent than Lucy had given them credit for. “Where are you taking me, Boris?”
Boris pressed another button on the wall. The voice said, “Banana now.” He held out his hand.
The monkeys began spinning in circles and screeching. One of the monkeys jumped up and grabbed a bar on the ceiling and swung himself around madly. The young monkey pounded the floor and bared his teeth.
Boris looked at Dexter, waiting with his hand outstretched. “I don’t have any bananas,” Dexter said.
Boris pressed the button. “Banana now.”
“I don’t have one.”
Boris kept pressing the button with his hand outstretched. “Banana now. Banana now. Banana now. Banana now.”
Dexter looked around at the monkeys, who were in a state of pandemonium. Two chimps got into a fight and began rolling around on the deck. Boris began jumping up and down and kept pressing the button.
“Banana now. Banana now. Banana now. Banana now. Banana now. Banana now. Banana now. Banana now…”
Dexter wished he were anywhere else in the entire universe.
What you don’t know about running shoes may kill you, and tonight at ten, oxygen: Is it overrated? Find out the shocking truth in a special report that you won’t want to miss.”
Jacob couldn’t figure out how the reporter had managed to make his hair so shiny. He wondered if he had undergone surgery to replace the entire top of his head with a permanently gleaming brow and rock-solid plastic hair.
Jacob looked around the room at the reporters, busily scratching at notepads and speaking into cameras. He was amazed at the many and varied places the reporters stowed their writing utensils. There were pens tucked behind ears, pens stuck into hair, pens tucked into stained shirts, and even two-fisted pens, with a second pen at the ready should one fail at the precise moment something important was spoken. There was paper all over the floor, and no one had thought to water any of the plants along the wall, which were brown and dead and themselves littered with more paper. Occasionally someone would shout, “Scoop! Scoop! I have a scoop!” and the other reporters would grumble to each other and then casually position themselves to eavesdrop on what the scooping reporter was saying.
“Are you getting this, you imbecile?!” the reporter screamed at his cameraman. “What? We’re live? Ha-ha!” He adjusted his red tie. “Just a little joke for you folks back home.”
Jacob looked all over the room for Sarah, and finally spotted her giving an interview in the back. He caught her eye, and though he knew she was still mad at him about Dexter, she gave him an encouraging smile.
“You’re on,” the reporter said. He glanced at his watch. “Is it time for more hair gel?” he asked his camera-
man. “I think we need more gel.”
Jacob steadied his nerves and stepped up to the podium, then onto the box behind the lectern. He peered out at the reporters, who were frantically taking pictures and scratching notes even though he hadn’t said anything yet.
There were cameras everywhere, and he wondered how many billions of people were watching. Maybe even his dad was watching, either on some top-secret space TV channel on Earth, or maybe even from somewhere nearby in space. He pulled at the tie he was wearing, which Sarah had tied too tightly. He wondered if he should have spent more time on his speech.
“Astrals and Earthers,” he began as confidently as he could. “I am supremely, uh, honored that you… I really appreciate that I’m here to be… I mean… I’m here to announce my candidacy for president of the universe.”
Jacob waited for some sort of applause, but the reporters were staring at their notepads. After a moment, he finally heard clapping from the back and heard Sarah shout, “Go Jake!”
He cleared his throat. “This is an important time for Earth and Space. I mean, as I don’t think I have to tell you. The first president of the universe should be like the king has been, um, like. Kind and good. And responsible. I promise to you that I will do the best job I can and will serve the office with honor.”
He looked out at the reporters. Some of them had fallen asleep. The rest looked as if they were so bored they couldn’t bother to keep their mouths closed. They stared at Jacob with slack jaws and half-lidded eyes.
“Is that it?” someone finally asked.
“No,” Jacob said quickly. “I mean, I will always do the right thing. I won’t let you down. I promise. Uh, thank you.”
One of the reporters threw his notepad into the air in disgust. “How can I write a story about this?” he shouted.
“Headline!” another yelled. “‘Candidate for Presidency Promises to Try Hard.’ Subhead: ‘Reporter fired for boring everyone to death.’”
There was a murmur of agreement.
“How do you plan to beat your opponent?” someone asked.
Jacob frowned. “My opponent?” He hadn’t even considered that he would have to run against anyone.
There was a commotion at the back of the room. Everyone turned and watched as an entourage swooped in with a great deal of fanfare. Cameras flashed, and the reporters started shouting questions. Through the tumult, Jacob finally caught a glimpse of his opponent—a small figure with impeccably groomed hair standing in the center of his entourage. It was Mick Cracken. Space buccaneer and prince.
Mick guided the entourage to the aisle, then broke away. He walked confidently up to the podium and shoved Jacob aside, then stood in front of the microphone. Jacob gave his ground, too stunned to know how to react.
Mick flashed his best cocky smile. “To the finest reporters and journalists in the universe, guardians of free speech and keepers of liberty. I bow down before your beauty and intelligence, you peerless scribes of truth and wisdom.”
The reporters nodded to each other and smiled. There was a smattering of applause. Jacob didn’t know what to do and locked eyes with Sarah Daisy, who shook her head and shrugged.
Mick paused for a moment, basking in the glow of attention. Finally he began to speak. “My administration will be full of corruption and scandal. There will be foul tricks and dirty deeds. I will disgrace the office, and my mistakes will force me to beg for mercy.” Mick looked up at the reporters. “There will probably be tears.”
The reporters murmured to each other appreciatively.
“As the universe’s most famous space buccaneer, I couldn’t be more unqualified for this office. I cannot promise you that I will be competent or wise or good or even sort of good. You will often wonder how and why you elected me in the first place. That is, if I don’t steal votes outright.” Mick winked, and the reporters laughed. “There will always be a scandal to follow. Always a conspiracy to unravel. Constant speculation about whether I will be forced to resign.
“Above all else, you will never be bored. I will break every single promise I make to you, except for this one, which I will hold dear: My speeches will be short.”
The room grew quiet in excitement and anticipation.
“And that is why it gives me great pleasure to announce my candidacy for president of the universe.”
The reporters rose to their feet and cheered wildly. Mick raised his hands above his head and shook them in triumph.
Mick walked over to Jacob and turned him to face the crowd. “Photo op,” he said. He grabbed Jacob’s hand to shake it and flashed a peace sign with his left hand, giving the reporters his biggest smile.
“This is going to be so easy,” Mick said between his teeth.
Jacob sensed that his candidacy was on thin ice.
Jacob was still stunned long after Mick’s speech had sent the reporters into a frenzy. He watched Mick work the room, laughing at reporters’ jokes and reminiscing with them about how terrible he had been to them when he was a toddler running around Planet Royale. Every now and then he would turn to wink at Jac
ob, clearly relishing that he had so thoroughly upstaged his opponent.
Not knowing quite what to do, Jacob found a video screen to stare at and was surprised to see his old friend Moonman from the tiny planet Numonia. He was being interviewed in front of the spaceship Swift and looked as if he was the only person in the universe more uncomfortable than Jacob.
“Why… Jacob Wonderbar? Of course I remember him,” he said.
A reporter stuck his microphone closer to Moonman’s face and he flinched. “Could you please comment on reports that the Earther candidate is here to bring war to Astral colonies and is advancing a hard-line pro-Earth agenda?”
Moonman screwed up his face and regained some composure. “Now you listen here,” he said. “You couldn’t find a finer young man than Jacob Wonderbar and we would be lucky to have such a… a… fine young man for president. He’s welcome back on Numonia anytime, which is more than I could say for all of you rotten…”
Night fell on Numonia at that moment and Moonman fell asleep standing up.
“Sir?” the reporter asked, alarmed. “Sir!”
“Well, well, well…” Jacob heard a girl say behind him.
Jacob turned around and saw Catalina Penelope Cassandra Crackenarium, princess of the universe, dressed in a smart pantsuit and wearing sensible pearl earrings. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun.
“Wow, Cat… Hi. I’m…”
Sarah suddenly appeared at Jacob’s elbow. “What are you doing here?”
“Sarah Daisy!” Catalina shouted. She grabbed Sarah in a tight hug, air-kissed her cheeks, then held her by the shoulders. “Now let’s get a look at you.” She looked Sarah’s outfit up and down, raised her eyebrows, and then shrugged. “Enh,” she said.
Sarah’s face flushed and Jacob stepped in between them in case Sarah was considering an attack. “It’s good to see you, Cat. Are you here because of Mick?”
Catalina laughed merrily and tapped him on the nose. “Don’t be silly! I’m here because of you, sweetie.” She spread her arms. “I’m going to be your running mate.”
Sarah sputtered. “You! Don’t be ridiculous.”
“And your vice president when you win.”
“That’s really nice,” Jacob said. “But I think we’re doing fine with what we—”
“Jake…” Catalina said. “Oh, Jake, honey. That”—she pointed to the podium where Jacob had delivered his speech—“was not fine. You two don’t know the first thing about Astrals or how you can win.”
“We know enough,” Sarah said.
“Oh really?” Cat said. “What are you doing for communications? Do you have Astral Tellys so you can make calls to the press? Let alone keep up with Astral television stations?”
Sarah and Jacob looked at each other.
Catalina laughed. “Did you think your pitiful Earther phones were going to work in outer space?”
“No,” Jacob said. “But…”
“Population centers. Sarah darling, why don’t you share with Candidate Wonderbar the five most populous planets and how you plan to campaign there for votes? What about the three Battles Supreme? Have you thought about your strategy? We have less than a starweek to prepare for the first one.”
Sarah was silent. Jacob hadn’t heard anything about any battles.
Catalina grabbed Jacob’s tie and flipped it dismissively. “And look how you have my future husband dressed. The poor dear!”
Jacob looked down at his red tie. He didn’t think it was so bad.
“You need credibility. You need Astrals to trust you. And what better way than with the Astral princess as your running mate?”
“What’s in it for you?” Sarah finally managed to say.
“Me?” Catalina looked scandalized. “Why, I couldn’t be thinking less about myself at a time like this. I just want to help Jake win this election.”
“Right. Sure. Like I’d listen to a stupid alien,” Sarah whispered furiously. Catalina’s eyes widened in shock. She started to say something back, but then stopped.
Sarah grabbed Jacob’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“Sarah, look…”
Sarah paused and stared daggers at him. “Jacob Wonderbar, if you go along with this…”
Jacob wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sarah quite as angry, but he also knew that Catalina was right. He didn’t know how to run this election and he did need someone like her to give him credibility with the Astrals. It was the only chance he had at rescuing his candidacy, especially after the terrible speech he had given.
“We have to,” he said.
Sarah pushed Jacob’s arm away and stomped off. “I’m taking Lucy and I’m going to find Dexter,” she shouted over her shoulder.
The reporters sensed a conflict and swooped in, camera bulbs flashing, video cameras rolling. “Mr. Wonderbar! Mr. Wonderbar! Would you care to comment on your friend Sarah Daisy leaving your campaign? Mr. Wonderbar!”
“Um…” he started.
Catalina stepped confidently in front of the cameras. “Jacob Wonderbar has decided that he needed to shake up his staff in order to energize his campaign. Sarah Daisy has resigned her position and acknowledged her abysmal performance as chief of staff.”
Jacob frowned. He started to defend Sarah, but Catalina continued, “The campaign will be heading in a new direction. Mr. Wonderbar has offered me the opportunity to be his running mate.” She flashed Jacob a dazzling smile. “And I couldn’t be happier to take it.”
After two hours spent pressing the “Banana now” button, the space monkeys had eventually grown tired of their antics and fallen asleep in a heap in the cockpit. Dexter thought about trying to determine where the spaceship was heading, but he was so tired and so grateful that the monkeys were finally quiet that he huddled in a corner and wrapped his arms around his knees. He put his head down and began to nod off.
The young chimp that had been watching Dexter when he was in the cage scrambled over to him. He chirped quietly and then rested his head on Dexter’s shoulder.
Dexter didn’t have the heart to move away from him, though he was thoroughly terrified at the thought that the monkeys had begun to think he was one of them.
“What’s your name?” he asked the monkey.
The monkey didn’t answer, but Dexter decided to call him Rufus until he could get him to press the buttons on the wall. Dexter yawned and was feeling very drowsy…
Dexter heard a crash and realized he had fallen asleep. The monkeys all leaped up at once and began swinging around the cockpit, crashing into things and screeching and causing a horrible racket.
As he began to regain his senses, Dexter realized they weren’t flying through space anymore. He looked out the cockpit window and saw what looked like a giant airplane hangar. They had landed on another planet.
He heard another crash in the hold, and the monkeys scrambled around, clearly terrified. They backed into a corner, and Boris paced in front of them.
Suddenly men wearing army uniforms and body armor scrambled into the cockpit. They were carrying blasters, and as they drew closer Dexter could see that they had an unbelievable number of knives and weapons hanging from their belts. Dexter’s heart leaped. He was finally being rescued.
The men charged in, diving and rolling on the ground, leaping up, and shouting things like “Cover me!” and “Move! Move! Move!” They looked like hyperactive martial arts experts with guns. Dexter wasn’t sure why the men needed to employ such complex maneuvers to board an unarmed spaceship, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Boris charged at one of the soldiers and they knocked him back with a stick. Dexter suddenly became worried for Boris’s safety. “Boris, don’t!” he shouted.
The monkeys all ran at once out of the cockpit, and the soldiers followed them with their guns at the ready. Dexter scrambled after them and reached the hold just in time to see the monkeys being herded safely into a nearby bunker. Dexter was relieved that they hadn’t been hurt. He was even more relieved
that he was finally free of them.
“Thank you!” he shouted to the soldiers. “You don’t know how long I’ve been…”
“Freeze!” one of the soldiers shouted at him, swinging his blaster around. Dexter raised his hands.
“It’s fine, I’m—”
“Silence!” the soldier shouted.
After a tense moment, a beefy kid with bright yellow hair stepped into the hold. He looked like he was about Dexter’s age, and he wore the same uniform as the soldiers, though he had far more decorative ribbons and medals. His nose was very crooked and it gave his face the appearance of being locked in a perpetual sneer.
“Good work, men,” the boy said. He paced in front of Dexter for a little while. Then he stepped up and sniffed at him. “So, what’s it like being a dirty Earther?”
Dexter blinked in confusion. He didn’t like the way this rescue was unfolding. “Um. Well, I don’t know, I never really thought of it like that, I guess I don’t…”
The boy punched Dexter hard on the shoulder.
“Ow! What was that for?” Dexter yelped.
“My dad said to punch first and ask questions later.”
Dexter rubbed his shoulder. “But you asked me a question first and then punched me. You didn’t even have the order right!!”
The boy grunted. Dexter didn’t have the sense that he was very bright.
“Splendid operation, men!” Dexter heard a voice outside say. He turned and looked as an adult version of the yellow-haired boy strode into the hold. His uniform could barely contain the ribbons, medals, and badges that poked out from every available space on his uniform.
“Did you punch him, Patrick?” the man asked.
Patrick shot Dexter an evil smile. “I sure did.”
“That’s my boy,” the man said. He loomed over Dexter. “General Gravy is the name, and you’re coming with me.”
“This wasn’t a rescue, was it?” Dexter said, sighing.
“A rescue?” General Gravy said. “Dear bombs no, this was a training exercise. I wanted my men to have experience rescuing high-value targets and…” He looked closer at Dexter. “You’re not Jacob Wonderbar.”
Jacob Wonderbar for President of the Universe Page 3