War on Whimsy

  Henry didn't hesitate. He waded purposefully through the water toward the raft. "I must see that contrast!"

  "On you hop, then." Sean dragged him up onto the raft.

  "Oh, yes, I see what you mean." Henry lay down on his stomach to examine the water against the wood. "That is lovely! If I only had my sketch--oh my, we appear to be moving!"

  The Space Brigade had all picked up the makeshift oars they had created out of tree branches and were paddling furiously.

  The raft sped off bumpily down the river. It rocked around a lot, and Nicola noticed water was seeping through the gaps in between the branches, but apart from that it was quite stable.

  "Well done, you two," she said to Tyler and Greta.

  "Thank you," said Tyler.

  "Yes, well, that's why I think everyone should be a Girl or Boy Scout," said Greta. "It should be a requirement of Space Brigade membership. It teaches you so many useful skills."

  "Goodness! We're moving so quickly! The shore is just whipping by! I've never experienced a sensation like it!" Henry Sweet sat up in the middle of the raft with an enchanted expression on his face like a toddler on a merry-go-round. "We'll reach Griddlemill in no time! We're moving--and yet my legs are still!"

  "Can I ask you a question, Henry?" said Tyler.

  "Certainly!" said Henry agreeably.

  "Has your planet invented the wheel?"

  Henry frowned. "The wheel? Wheels?"

  Tyler struggled to explain what he meant. "It's like a circular, ah, disc--and it spins on an axis. It's sort of the basis of all transport."

  "That sounds like a very interesting object," said Henry, obviously trying to be polite.

  "You really need to invent the wheel," said Tyler. "It would change everything."

  "Yes, well, we'll certainly look into it," said Henry vaguely.

  "Oh, my goodness, we must be going by the Village of Song already! Listen! They sing throughout the night and sleep through the day."

  They listened, and an angelic sound filled the night air. It sounded like a young boy's voice holding one high, sweet note. It was so unbelievably pure it gave Nicola goosebumps. Then other voices joined in, their voices harmonizing to create a rainbow of sound.

  Katie dropped her oar on the raft. Tears rolled down her face.

  "I must go there," she said. "I have to go there!"

  She dived off the side of the raft and began to swim toward the shore.

  "Katie!" shrieked Nicola. "What are you doing?"

  "Ah, well, if she appreciates music that's the last you'll see of her," said Henry. "Music appreciators find it impossible to leave the Village of Song. Your friend will grow old there."

  Without a word, Sean and Shimlara dropped their oars and dove into the river to bring her back.

  "Leave me alone!" cried Katie, when she saw them coming after her. "I must get to that music!"

  "Stuff her ears with leaves!" called out Henry, as the sound of singing grew even louder. "It's the only way!"

  Shimlara scooped up some leaves floating by, grabbed Katie, and pushed them into her ears.

  "No, no! I must hear it! Let me hear it!"

  "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Shimlara was almost crying, as Katie fought against her like a drowning person.

  "It's for your own good," said Sean, grabbing Katie in the lifesaving hold.

  He and Shimlara dragged Katie back onto the raft.

  "Paddle!" ordered Nicola, when everyone was back on board. She wanted to get away from the singing.The more she heard, the more she began to think it would be an excellent idea to jump in and swim to the Village of Song herself. She and Katie could go together and spend the rest of their lives doing nothing but listening to the blissful sound of--No! Stop thinking like that! You would never see your family again!

  Water flew as everyone paddled like crazy. The raft flew around a bend in the river. The sound of singing grew fainter and finally vanished altogether.

  Katie sat up and pulled the leaves from her ears.

  "I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. "I don't know what came over me."

  "I'm sorry for being so rough with you," said Shimlara.

  "Oh, no, I'm sorry for putting you in such a difficult situation," said Katie.

  "And I'm sorry I have to listen to you girls go on and on about how sorry you are," said Sean.

  "Are there any more villages like that coming up?" Nicola asked Henry.

  "No," said Henry. "The river will make its way through the Sublime Mountains and then we'll be in Griddlemill."

  They spent the next few hours quietly paddling their way down the river, their arms beginning to ache from the effort.

  "How are you going to rescue the Gorgioskios from the prison camp?" asked Henry at one point.

  "We don't know," admitted Nicola."We'll work something out once we see what we're up against."

  Henry nodded. He was lying on his back close to the edge of the raft and letting one hand trail through the water. It didn't seem to have occurred to him to offer to help out with the paddling.

  "How are you going to win the war against Volcomania?" Sean asked Henry.

  Henry blinked. "Well, I expect we're going to lose. I don't really see there's much point in even trying. Those Volcomanians are really a rather rough sort of people."

  "That's not the right attitude," said Sean. "Are you a man or a mouse?"

  "I believe I'm a man," said Henry confusedly. "What's a mouse?"

  But there was no time for Sean to explain because the river had suddenly changed its nature, like a quiet person losing their temper. It was no longer meandering peacefully through the mountains. It was a raging torrent of white water.

  "Why didn't you warn us, Henry?" cried Nicola over the roar of the water, as her oar was snatched from her grasp and the raft was flung around like a flimsy piece of driftwood.

  "About what?" called back Henry.

  "About this!"

  "I always wanted to go white-water rafting!" shouted Sean joyously, as if he were on a roller-coaster ride.

  "Well, I didn't!" yelled back Nicola.

  The raft flew into the air and crashed down again, only just missing being smashed to smithereens against the side of a boulder.

  Bumpity-bumpity-BUMP!

  Bumpity-bumpity-BUMP!

  Nicola felt as though she were being tossed around like a carrot in a stir-fry.

  "Forget paddling!" yelled Tyler. "Just hold on!"

  CHAPTER 25

  Silence. Stillness. The scent of roses.

  Nicola tentatively opened her eyes. Had they really survived that? Her memories of the last ten minutes of her life seemed to be broken into tiny pieces, like jagged fragments of glass.

  She could remember:

  Clinging to the side of the raft as it flew high in the air.

  The feel of cold water closing over her head as her side of the raft tipped under.

  Gasping for air as it righted itself.

  The sound of Sean hollering "WOO-HOO" as if he were actually having a good time.

  And then suddenly it was all over. The roaring sound stopped. The raft became wonderfully still.

  Nicola sat up. The rest of the Space Brigade and Henry were all lying flat on their backs on the raft. Everyone was drenched through. The mountains were behind them and the river had widened. It was now flat and tranquil. The raft was barely moving. Above them, the sky was becoming lighter and the stars were fading.

  "Dawn," said Henry Sweet, sitting up. "My favorite time of the day." He looked at Nicola. "Have you ever seen a Whimsian dawn?"

  Nicola shook her head.

  "You're about to see something you'll never forget."

  Nicola could see the curve of Whimsy's giant sun glimmering on the horizon. The light began to change. Everything was bathed in a fine gold mist, as if someone was sprinkling the planet with gold dust. Streaks of peach, cherry, and mango slowly appeared across the sky, as if that same person was now lazily trying out paint colors on a ca
nvas. As the sun rose higher, the colors deepened and became more beautiful, like an orchestra reaching its crescendo.

  By the time the sun was hovering over the horizon like a burning coin, Whimsy's birds were singing and the Space Brigade was all sitting up, lifting their faces to the soft, warm rays.

  Henry raised his eyebrows at Nicola.

  "Incredible," she agreed.

  "My life's goal is to paint a Whimsy dawn," he said. "I've tried it a hundred times but I never quite capture its essence. One day I will."

  "Unless Volcomania wins the war," said Nicola.

  "What do you mean?" said Henry."I'll still paint! Painting is my life! I would never stop. I paint every day of my life."

  "Yes, but if Volcomania wins the war, everyone will be put in artistic factories. You'll have to paint what they tell you to paint. You'll be on a schedule."

  "A schedule? Me? I couldn't paint to a schedule!"

  "You might have to," said Nicola. She didn't mean to be cruel. She just wanted Henry to understand what this war could mean to his planet.

  "That's why you have to fight," said Sean.

  "That's why you have to defend yourselves," said Nicola.

  Henry stared at them. His mouth opened as if he were going to say something but no sound came out.

  "Is this Griddlemill?" interrupted Shimlara. "I can smell the roses."

  Henry cleared his throat and looked around. He pointed at the shore, where dozens of rosebushes were growing. "That's Griddlemill there. There's a beautiful picnic spot through--oh. Oh dear." He dropped his hand.

  "What is it?" said Nicola.

  She looked where he'd been pointing and saw an ugly tangle of vicious-looking barbed wire rising high in the air above the roses.

  "They've built a prison camp over our picnic area," said Henry. "That's where I proposed to my wife!" He leaped to his feet, causing the raft to rock alarmingly. "These people are barbarians! They must be stopped!"

  "Now you're talking," said Sean.

  Henry took off his beret and crushed it between his hands. "I will defeat them single-handedly!"

  "See now, that's just silly," said Greta.

  "But I have right on my side!" cried Henry. He punched both fists over his head and then lost his balance completely and fell straight back into the river.

  He came up spluttering water and clambered back on the raft. He wiped his face with his beret and looked sheepish.

  "I'm just not sure where to start," he admitted. "Where do you think I should start? Could you help? Have any of you ever won a war before?"

  The Space Brigade all shook their heads and Henry looked dejected.

  "You've got to play to their weaknesses, while using your strengths," said Nicola, remembering something her dad had said while watching a football game on the television.

  Henry brightened.

  "Right! Yes, of course! So our strengths are music, art, literature, and theater. Their strengths are that they're organized and methodical and quite violent, with lots of weapons and bombs, and their weaknesses are--their weaknesses are--mmmmm. They don't seem to have any weaknesses."

  BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

  A sound like a tremendously loud alarm clock shattered

  the peaceful morning.

  Henry clapped his hands over his ears. "What is that awful sound?"

  "It's coming from the prison camp," said Shimlara.

  There was a hollow sound like someone lifting up a megaphone and a harsh, authoritarian voice rang out. "Wake up, prisoners! All prisoners are ordered to report for work duty. There will be no breakfast this morning due to the bad conduct of Prisoner Georgio Gorgioskio!"

  "Oh no," said Shimlara. "Typical! Dad is in trouble! Come on! We've got to get them out of there."

  CHAPTER 26

  Nicola's heart thumped as they pulled the raft up onto the riverbank about a half a mile away from the prison camp. They had agreed that if they were approached by anyone they would stick with their story of being Earthling journalists reporting on the war. However, first they wanted to do a thorough inspection of the camp.

  They hid their raft under a pile of rose petals. The air was thick with the sweet smell of roses, but there were other, less fragrant scents as well.

  "I think it's boiled potatoes," said Sean, sniffing the air. "And gunpowder. Maybe sweaty socks?"

  "How dare they ruin the famous scent of Griddlemill!" said Henry. "Quick! Let us hurry!"

  Henry seemed to be changing. His eyes were more focused and less dreamy, his manner more decisive. Nicola thought perhaps he was acting more like a president, until he suddenly pounced on a perfectly ordinary rose petal lying on the ground.

  "Why, just look at the enchanting shape of this petal!" he cried.

  "Enchanting," agreed Sean, pulling on his sleeve. "But we've sort of got things to do."

  "Oh, yes, yes, of course." Henry carefully put the petal in his pocket.

  The rose bushes provided the perfect cover as they carefully made their way back along the river shore as close as they dared to the prison camp. Two Volcomanian soldiers were guarding the gates to the camp, standing very still and straight, like the guards at Buckingham Palace.

  Nicola silently pointed away from the river toward the back of the camp. The rest of the Space Brigade nodded in agreement.

  They crept around the barbed wire fence, trying not to make a sound. It was difficult, because they had to weave their way through overgrown rose bushes. The fragrance was beautiful, but the thorns were sharp against their skin.

  Once they were far enough away from the guards, Nicola stopped and everyone tried to see through the fence without cutting themselves on the barbed wire.

  Nicola could see the prisoners lining up in rows. Their hair was unwashed, their clothes filthy, and they all looked miserable, tired, and hungry. Nicola searched the faces for Shimlara's family.

  "Prisoners!" boomed a fat Volcomanian guard. He was standing in front of the prisoners, with his legs spread and his stomach pushed out. He reminded Nicola of Jeffrey Snog, the bully back at their school on Earth.

  Sean was obviously thinking the same thing. "He could be related to Jeffrey Snog," he whispered in Nicola's ear.

  "I'm sure you're all anxious to know how you'll be spending your day!" shouted the guard. "Wonderful news! You have an interesting day ahead of you! I know how you enjoyed polishing our boots yesterday. Guess what? Today you will be polishing the barbed wire fence! Of course, you may suffer a few nasty cuts but I'm sure you'll take pride in the appearance of your camp!"

  "Excuse me!" said one of the prisoners.

  Nicola heard a quick intake of breath from Shimlara.

  The prisoner stepped forward and Nicola saw that it was Shimlara's dad, Georgio. He looked thin and exhausted, and his famous bristly mustache was drooping, but he still held his head high.

  "What is it this time, Gorgioskio?" sighed the fat guard.

  "Good morning! Isn't it a lovely day! And may I say you're looking very well this morning, sir! Have you lost weight?"

  The guard frowned and looked at his huge belly with uncertainty.

  "Perhaps a little."

  "I thought so!" said Georgio. "Now, although I'd love nothing more than to cut my hands to shreds polishing the barbed wire fence today, the thing is, the Interplanetary Guidelines for Prisoners of War expressly forbids it. According to Clause Twenty-five B, prisoners shall not be required to clean their own prison camp. I don't think Mrs. Mania would be happy if she heard you were going against the Interplanetary Convention."

  The fat guard looked uncertain. "I don't know about that."

  "I suggest you give us all a nice rest day," said Georgio. "Or better still, why not let us all go free? And while you're at it, why not forget this silly war altogether?"

  Suddenly the fat guard was furious, as if he'd been tricked.

  "Gorgioskio! Solitary confinement for you!"

  Georgio groaned.
"The thing is I find solitary confinement so horribly solitary! Do you think you could join me there and we could play a nice game of cards? I'd let you win!"

  The guard looked tempted by the offer. Then his face changed. "Stop trying to confuse me! You're going to solitary confinement!"

  Suddenly Mully appeared by her husband's side.

  "Mom," said Shimlara under her breath.

  "Do you think you could send me to solitary confinement in my husband's place?" she asked politely. "I'm afraid he'll lose his mind if you send him there again. He can't stand being alone."

  "This is a prison camp, not a day spa!" The guard stamped his foot. "You're not meant to be enjoying yourselves!" He gestured at a group of Volcomanian guards standing to attention next to him. "Take him to solitary confinement! And do not under any circumstances play cards with him!"

  As he was from the planet of Globagaskar, Georgio was about double the height of the Volcomanians. It took six burly guards to carry him off and Georgio didn't make it easy for them.

  There was a sudden commotion as Shimlara's little brother ran out from the prisoners. "Don't you touch my daddy!" he cried, swatting at the guards with his hands.

  Nicola held her breath.

  "Oh, Squid, honey, don't," said Shimlara softly. Nicola turned her head and saw that there were tears running down her friend's face.

  For the first time Georgio looked frightened. "Go back to your mom, Squid," he said. "Daddy is fine."

  Mully ran out and scooped Squid up in her arms.

  "I've had it up to here with you lot!" yelled the fat guard. He indicated the middle of his forehead with a chubby hand. "I'm going to have a nap! By the time I wake up I want to see that barbed wire fence gleaming!"

  He stomped off. Meanwhile the remaining guards handed out buckets and rags, and the prisoners slowly shuffled off with slumped shoulders to begin cleaning the fence.

  The Space Brigade turned to look at one another.

  Nicola put a finger over her lips and they crept away from the camp.

  "I have never seen such evil!" said Henry Sweet.

  "We've got to rescue all those poor prisoners!" said Katie. "Not just the Gorgioskios!"

  "That's what Dad says, too," said Shimlara.

  "What do you mean?" said Nicola with surprise.

  "I spoke to him telepathically," said Shimlara.

  "Ah," said Nicola. She'd quite forgotten that Shimlara would be able to read her father's mind once he was in her sight.