Circus Galacticus (6 page)

Nola heads for the birdbath-shaped console poking up from the center of the room. "We'll have to request your know-it-all from the dispenser," she explains, laying her still-silvery palm on the console. "Now you put your hand there, so it can read your genetic signature."

I set my hand alongside Nola's. With a snick of sliding metal, the hollow opens, popping out a small pile of black gadgetry.

"Go on," says Nola. "Try it out."

Gingerly, I hook the loop over my ear.

"WELL, HELLOOO, PARTNER!"

"Aaagh!" I try to pull it off, but the band clamps into place along my forehead.

The synthetic voice babbles on. "I know we're going to be the best of friends, dear! I can't wait to tell you
everything
about the universe! Are you excited? I know I am! Now, what should we cover first, hmmm? Ooooh, you must be
dying
to know the latest dish from
Love Among the Stars;
am I right? In the last episode, we saw Dalana admit her true feelings to Kel Starstrike, just before the space pirate Zendalos tossed them both into a black hole."

"Shut up!"

"I know!
What
a plot twist! But it gets better, because meanwhile, Dalana's evil twin, Talana, was scheming to take over the galactic empire by—"

"No, really," I say. "Shut. Up." I yank at the earpiece, but it won't budge.

Nola's doubled over, giggling.

"A little help, please?"

"Wow. I knew the know-it-alls have personality chips, but I've never seen one like that."

"It's not funny! How do I get the stupid thing off ? I need a new one."

Nola wipes her streaming eyes, no longer laughing. "Oh, Trix, I'm sorry, but I can't. We only have so many blanks, and once the dispenser imprints it to your genetic code, it can't be reused except by someone from your planet. We can't just make a new one."

"Well, then, can you at least give this one a new personality chip?"

"Not easily. But I'm sure this one will settle in, given a few days."

"Given a few tranquilizers, maybe."

"You can turn it off, if you want to." Nola indicates a button on her own.

"Wait!" protests my know-it-all. "We need to talk about what you're going to wear tomorrow. It's your first full day on ship! We have to look our best, don't we?"

"No, we don't!" I flick the switch. Blessed silence follows. "Hallelujah."

Nola swallows a last giggle. "Seriously, though, Trix. You need a know-it-all."

"Yeah. Because it's vitally important that I know the latest plot twists on
Love Among the Stars?
"

"It's a good show," Nola says with an injured expression. "You ought to try watching. Anyway, it's more than that. Your know-it-all will help you find your way around the Big Top, and you can use it to send messages, like if you need me. Have your know-it-all patch you through to mine. They've got access to the whole datanet."

"I think I'll fly solo for a little longer. So what now?" I yawn. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Your know-it-all could tell you," Nola says with a cheeky grin. "It's ten. Breakfast is at eight."

"So do you sleep in normal beds or what? Don't tell me it's some kind of weird pod thing."

"No, the dorms are really nice. And I meant what I said before. I've got a double. You can room with me if you like."

"Seriously? You mean it?"

"Sure. What, do you snore or something?"

"No, it's just..." No one's ever gone out of their way to be friendly to me. I mean, there were some girls at Bleeker who were nice enough—but only when Della wasn't looking. Part of me doesn't think Nola could really want to hang out with me. Crazy, huh? I'm on a spaceship, in another galaxy, and the thing that's hardest to believe is that I've got a shot at my first real friend.

"I'd love to be roommates," I say finally.

Nola beams. "Wait until you see our room. It's the best! I've put in a ton of customizations. You'll love it! I mean, I hope you will."

"I bet it's amazing. So, is that our next stop?"

She shakes her head. "There's no way to reach the dorms right now. We have to wait for the decompaction bell. Everybody's probably hanging out in the commons. Come on, I'll introduce you."

Nola's know-it-all leads us back out past the spacewings, then up two sets of ladders and down a pearly white corridor that spirals like a giant snail shell. We come out into a large round room with mirrored walls, like an inside-out disco ball. About thirty other kids are gathered around a raised platform lit by orange lights. Inside, a figure jumps and catapults as puffs of smoke, bursts of flame, and several nasty-looking metal mallets chomp through the air. I guess "hanging out" in an intergalactic circus involves more than flopping onto the sofa and watching bad TV.

"Someone's in the Arena!" says Nola, clapping her hands together. "Oh. It's Sirra. Well, it's still fun to watch." She leads the way to a spot along the side with a good view. With Sirra putting on a show, nobody pays us much attention.

The Galacticus crew all look about my age or a few years older and oddly normal, for aliens. You could have pulled most of them off the street back home, if you were in the artsy, punked-out part of town. And then there are the really weird ones.

I try not to stare at the guy who looks like a walking boulder, or the one with antennae like a moth. Far out! I wonder how much of it is thanks to the Tinkers. Or are there entire planets of rock people?

"I guess I wouldn't mind watching Sirra get pulverized," I say, turning back to Nola. "What is it, some kind of training machine?"

"More like a game. People play one another to see who can stay in longest. I once pawned off a whole week's bilge-cleaning duty to Jom on a bet that Ghost would beat Etander. And it's fun. Sirra won't get pulverized, though. She's too good. Watch."

Sirra cartwheels over two smashing metal plates and hangs in midair for a long moment, arms flung out artistically. Even with a giant deathtrap trying to take her out, she's going for the glamour shots. I'm kind of impressed, in spite of myself.

The lights in the Arena abruptly switch from orange to blue. The flames wink out. Sirra flips down to land triumphantly outside the Arena.

"She's good, isn't she?" says Nola, sounding wistful.

"You could totally take her, with your Tech mojo."

"Oh, they'd call it cheating."

"She's using her superpowers. Who says you can't?"

Nola ducks her head. "I couldn't go in there, anyway. It's too dangerous. Look." She points at a dial on the side of the ring. "That was only level five, and did you see those fire jets?" She shudders.

"Eh, it doesn't look too hard."

Me and my big mouth. My words ring out into one of those weird lulls in the conversations around us. Every single person hears me. And stares.

"Hey, everybody," says Nola, doing her best to cover for me. "This is Trix. She's new. Trix, this is ... uh ... everybody!"

"Not too hard, is it?" Sirra bounds down from the platform, arms crossed, chin high. "I'd like to see you last three minutes, Earth Girl."

No backing down now. "Sure. But only if we make it interesting."

"Interesting?"

I march over to the panel and spin the dial as high as it goes. Excitement buzzes through the crowd. Sirra's eyes go wide.

"Trix!" says Nola. "Are you sure? Level thirteen?"

"It's okay. I know what I'm doing." I lower my voice. "If we stick to the easy stuff and Sirra beats me, I'll look like an idiot. Even Sirra is scared of level thirteen."

"And what about you?"

I try to smile. "I'm more scared of looking stupid."

"Sirra, don't," says a boy with the same coppery skin and slippery dark hair as Sirra. "You don't need to prove—"

"I do, Etander. Someone needs to show the new girl how things work around here. She obviously doesn't know her place. She probably can't even do a cartwheel."

I say nothing. Instead I try to shake out some of the tension from my arms, roll my neck, and wiggle my toes.

"Trix," whispers Nola, "don't do it!"

I'm already moving, taking the three bounding steps that propel me into a front handspring, step out, round-off, back handspring. As I slam down from my double twisting layout onto the edge of the Arena, the crowd erupts in whoops of surprise. I wink at Sirra. "Ready when you are, Sparkles."

Sirra grimaces, then vaults over the steps, pulling a midair somersault to land on her hands beside me. Supporting herself one-armed, she waves. The onlookers cheer even louder.

"Watch out in there," says Sirra, bobbing upright. "This is no place for newbies."

"How's your nose?" I don't wait to see her reaction. It's time to face the Arena.

Someone, probably Nola, shouts, "Go, Trix!"

As soon as my feet touch the floor, about five billion things start trying to kill me. I duck under a giant rolling pin studded with jabby spikes. I twist out of the way of shooting flames. I leap up to grab a dangling hook, narrowly avoiding a pit that falls away under my feet. It's taking all my energy just to stay in the game. I've got to focus. I only need to last three minutes.

It feels like it's been an hour already. Sweat streams down my neck, tickling my skin. I throw myself under another swipe of the giant rolling pin. I may not be posing, but I'm surviving.

Then the net gets me.

Threads of fire burn through my body. It catches me by the legs and one arm. It's going to toss me out. I claw with my free hand for anything that can keep me inside the Arena.

My slippery fingers scrabble against smooth metal, then catch. I grit my teeth against the crackling pain that pulses from the net. I'm holding one of the spikes that pokes up from the floor. All I want is to let go and escape the pain, but I can't. I won't give up.

"You'll never make it, Earth Girl!" Sirra pirouettes aside, evading a blast of flame. "Let go!"

"Make me."

"Fine. If that's what it takes." Sirra leaps, soaring over the intervening obstacles to thump down in front of me. "What do you think of the Arena now?" Her eyes glitter with the reflected blue sparks popping off the net.

"Not ... so tough," I huff. "Might ... take ... a nap." I force a grin. I can tell her patience is running out. I only need her to come a little bit closer.

Sirra snarls, reaching for my fingers. Before she can wrench them free, I let go and grab her instead. She shrieks and kicks, but I've got a good grip. I hold tight as the net flips me up into the air, so that we both go flying out of the Arena. We slam to the ground in a tangled heap.

Sirra throws herself off me, planting an elbow in my gut along the way. I don't care. I made it a tie. That's good enough.

The translator can't handle whatever it is Sirra's saying as she stalks off, but I get the picture. I start to laugh, but it hurts.

"Trix!" cries Nola, popping up over my head. "You were amazing!"

I manage a smile, barely. All I want is to lie there for a few years enjoying my victory and waiting for my body to feel less like a sack of jelly.

A weird wailing echoes from the ceiling. All at once everybody's moving, heading for doors and chattering.

"Trix?" Nola asks. "Are you all right?"

I shake myself. "Considering that the day started with my hair turning pink and ended on a circus spaceship filled with mutant outlaws, yeah, I'm surprisingly all right."

"Come on, then. Let's check out your new home."

My new home.

THE NEXT MORNING I'm still tucked into my bed yawning as Nola bops around showing off the different gadgets she's installed "for fun." She tried giving me the rundown last night, but I was so wiped I fell asleep pretty much as soon as she popped down my foldaway bed. I'm still not entirely sure this isn't all a crazy dream, except that if it were, the dorm would probably be bigger. It's actually smaller than my room at Bleeker, but about a million times more comfy.

The walls are chock-full of all kinds of stuff. A woman sitting on a giant thresher waves from one picture. It could be a cornfield in Iowa, except there are two moons in the sky. One whole wall is filled with engineering schematics. And there's a pair of impossibly beautiful identical women gazing smolderingly from a poster right beside Nola's bed. I can't read the alien script above them, but I'm pretty sure it says
Love Among the Stars.

"And see this?" Nola gives her desk a push. It flips up, disappearing into the wall. "All the furniture is foldaway. Oh, and check this out." She presses her palm to the wall. It changes color, from green to bright pink.

"To match your hair," Nola says. "Or try this." The walls go dark, speckled with stars. "It's what you'd see if we were outside. The program patches in from the external sensors, so it's all live feed. It took me three days to work out how to integrate them, but isn't it neat?"

"Whoa!" I pull myself out of bed to spin around, taking it all in. "You even did the floor." Stars drift below my feet. It's kind of freaky, but amazing.

"So you like it? You think you'll be okay here? I mean, rooming here?"

"Absolutely. Who wouldn't be? I've got supergenius Tech Girl to show me the ropes and the cushiest bed in the galaxy."

But as I stare out into the limitless expanse, I can't help shivering. Nyl is out there, somewhere, waiting to get his hands on my meteorite. What if he finds us? Just how safe is my fabulous new life?

"What?" Nola glances around. "Is it making you space-sick?"

I shake off my fears. There's no reason to worry Nola. Nyl's probably light-years away. "No. It's great. So where do we get breakfast? I'm starved. Please tell me you don't live on weird energy drinks and protein pills."

"Oh, no—the food here is amazing! Jom isn't even a Tech, but he's got the culinary protocols figured out better than any of us, what with the family business and all that. You just have to be careful with his experiments..."

Nola trails off, her eyes wandering. She cocks her head, raising one hand to her know-it-all. She nods, then says, "Got it, Miss Three. I'll be there quick as I can. I need to drop Trix off for breakfast." Her conversation apparently finished, she looks at me, a hint of worry in her eyes.