War on Whimsy (16 page)

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.”

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.”

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.

“He was pretty happy to hear we're here,” said Shimlara. “He was thinking so fast, I could barely understand him! He purposely got himself put in solitary confinement so that we could all talk to him. He said to go around to the back righthand corner of the camp.”

“What else did he say?” asked Nicola.

Shimlara looked at Henry.

“He said the only way to ensure we didn't end up captured, too, was to help Henry Sweet and his people win the war against Volcomania.”

Henry paled. “Goodness me.”

“Pssst! Dad? Are you there?”

Shimlara stood with her hands on her hips at the far corner of the prison camp fence.

“He said the solitary confinement cell was underground.

It's built into a wall of rock just outside the perimeter of the camp,” she said to the others. “I'm just not sure where—what's that?”

They all stopped to listen. A tiny, faraway voice seemed to be coming from beneath their feet.

“Under here!”

Tyler fell to his knees near the barbed-wire fence. He cleared away some dirt with the palm of his hand to reveal a small iron grille in the ground. Georgio was peering up at them, his dark eyes flashing with excitement. He was sitting with his knees squashed close to his chest in a small, dark underground cell.

“Look at all your lovely, dear faces! Nicola! Sean! Tyler! Katie! Greta! I've never been so happy to see you all!” he cried. “When I heard Shimlara's voice in my head I nearly jumped out of my skin. Oh, and you've got Henry Sweet with you! Hello, Mr. Sweet! It's a pleasure to see you again. How is the war progressing? We don't get to hear much here, obviously. I'm sorry, I'm talking so much, but solitary confinement does seem to mess with my mind, and I've only been here five minutes. Last time they put me in here for a day! When I came out I spoke for two hours straight without taking a breath! Drove your mother crazy! I never realized how important human interaction was to me!”

“Dad,” said Shimlara.

“And of course, I get so
bored
, and you know how I can't stand to be bored! I try to set myself little mental challenges, but to be honest—”

“
Dad!
” said Shimlara.

“Sorry,” said Georgio humbly. “How are you, honey?”

“I'm fine,” said Shimlara. “Are you all right? Are Mom and Squid okay?”

Her voice cracked. She was obviously trying not to cry. Nicola tried to imagine how she would feel seeing her dad locked away in a tiny prison cell.

“Oh, yes, yes, we're all fine. It's not exactly a dream vacation but . . . ” His words drifted away.

“Shhh. Someone is coming,” he whispered.

The Space Brigade stepped away from the grille and fell silent.

They heard the sound of bars being rattled.

“Feeling hungry, are you, Gorgioskio?” said a rough voice.

“Well, yes, I am quite peckish,” answered Georgio amiably.

“That's good, because I've got some nice crispy bacon, sizzling sausages, and fried eggs for your breakfast!”

“Sounds delicious!” said Georgio.

“
Ha ha ha!
That's what
I'm
having for breakfast. You know what you're having!
Air!
That should fill you up, eh? See ya, Gorgioskio!”

The voice trailed off. Georgio looked back up at them. “They've got quite a sense of humor, these Volcomanians,” he said dryly.

“They're horrible!” said Shimlara. “We're going to get you and Mom and Squid out of there today!”

“That's very nice of you all, but as I said, we really need you to rescue
all
the prisoners,” said Georgio. “We couldn't leave anyone behind! Do you know they've got the
United Aunts
in here? We're sharing a cell with them! When the intergalactic community hears about this, Volcomania is going to be the most unpopular planet in the galaxy.”

“I don't care about the other prisoners!” Shimlara stamped her foot in frustration. “I only care about rescuing you!

“And how were you planning to do that?” said Georgio.

“We're pretending to be journalists from Earth,” said Nicola. “We thought we'd act like we're doing a story on the prison camp and—what's that?”

Georgio was pushing a rolled-up piece of paper up through the bars of the grille. “You might want to look at this,” he said.

Nicola took the piece of paper and unrolled it. It seemed to be some sort of notice or flyer. The others gathered around her to read it.

It said: