War on Whimsy (17 page)

There was a grainy, black-and-white photo on the flyer. Someone in the Secret Service must have taken it when they were getting on the bus after Mrs. Mania had turned up.

It was an extremely unflattering photo. They all seemed to have shifty, criminal expressions on their faces. Even Katie, who was the nicest person Nicola knew, had her mouth pulled down in a sour snarl.

“This makes us seem
horrible
,” cried Nicola. “If I read it, I would think we were seriously bad.”

“Yeah, we really look like ‘hardened criminals,'” said Sean happily, as if it were a great thing.

“Did you really do all that stuff?” asked Henry Sweet nervously.

“Yes,” admitted Nicola.

Henry took a few steps back.

“But you see, we
needed
to kidnap Princess Petronella,” said Nicola. “Because she was going to destroy Earth.”

“Oh, and just for your interest, she's not exactly a ‘dear little' princess,” commented Sean.

“And the commander in chief of Shobble was
not
kind or gentle,” said Katie.

“Yes, but—”

“No need to worry, Henry,” said Georgio. “They're good kids.”

“So we can't pretend to be a news crew anymore,” said Nicola. She was disappointed. She had been looking forward to doing some more interviewing.

“Your only option is to help the Whimsians win the war against Volcomania,” said Georgio. “Otherwise someone will capture you for the reward.”

“We're not
soldiers
, Dad,” said Shimlara. “We don't know how to win a war!”

“The Space Brigade had no experience at all before the last two missions and look at what you've achieved,” said Georgio. “I have every confidence in you!”

“Dad, this isn't Saturday morning sports,” said Shimlara. “You can't just give one of your little pep talks like you do before a space-ball game.”

“It's
just
like Saturday morning sports! Your competitors are the Volcomanians. How are you going to beat them? You need strategies! A plan! Oh, and a little trickery is perfectly acceptable. You're creative people! The Whimsians are creative people! Aren't you, Henry?”

“Yes, we are!” cried Henry. His face was flushed with hope. “We can do it!” He seemed to be the only one who was feeling inspired by Georgio.

“Oh, and one other thing. We've heard that Mrs. Mania is planning to visit Whimsy and inspect the camp,” said Georgio. “That's why they're getting the prisoners to clean the barbed wire fence. So that's the perfect time for you to launch your attack.”

“Launch our attack?” said Nicola faintly.

“Yes! I think you should capture Mrs. Mania! In all the war histories I've read, capturing your opponent's leader works out beautifully. You could
lure
her into your clutches with, umm, I don't know—some sort of nice food?”

“She's not a puppy dog!” Shimlara rolled her eyes. “We really need to get some advice from Mom about this. She's the one with the war experience.”

Georgio looked hurt. “I know I haven't fought in a war, but I have read numerous books and seen a lot—”

“When is Mrs. Mania coming to inspect the camp?” interrupted Nicola.

Before Georgio got to answer, there was the sound of heavy footsteps. The Space Brigade hastily stepped back.

“Gorgioskio!” called out the same nasty voice as before. “Got a treat for you! We're having a cleanup.You're the only one tall enough to dust the top shelves!”

“Ah, glad to be of help!” Georgio answered. “Cleaning up for Mrs. Mania's visit, are you? Her visit
tomorrow morning at eight AM?!
”

“That's none of your business,” said the rough voice. There was a scraping sound of keys in a lock. “Come on, out you come!” Their voices vanished.

The Space Brigade and Henry Sweet were all looking at their watches. They had less than twenty-four hours to work out how to win a war and capture a president.

“This is where I kissed my wife for the first time,” said Henry Sweet, dreamily. “Her lips tasted like strawberries. They were as soft as—”

“Too much information!” Sean clapped his hands over his ears.

Henry had led them to a giant tree a short walk away from the prison camp. The tree was beautiful, with low branches laden with strange flowers that smelled like honey. Its trunk's circumference was the size of a swimming pool. Henry had walked over to the trunk and found his initials and those of his wife carved deep into the bark. He had slid his hand straight down from the carving and suddenly the bark had given way to reveal a small opening, just large enough for them all to crawl through.

Nicola gasped with surprise when she saw the inside of the trunk. It was like being inside a secret cave. The light was dim and green. The ground was soft and springy. Tiny butterflies fluttered above their heads like falling blossoms.

“What a romantic place for your first kiss,” sighed Katie.

“Is anyone else
really
hungry?” said Sean loudly.

Everyone sighed. They hadn't eaten anything since the sugary desserts the night before.

“I liked the sound of that breakfast the horrible Volcomanian guard was describing,” said Tyler. “Bacon, eggs, sausages!”

Nicola's mouth watered.

“We don't have time to think about food,” she said briskly. “We've got to work out a plan.”

“I don't think I can concentrate without breakfast,” said Sean.

“You're going to have to!” Nicola was feeling extremely irritable.

“I wonder if the Griddlemill Café still delivers,” said Henry. “They used to do a lovely hot breakfast. My wife had a fondness for their buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup. You just whistle three times like a Melody Bird and they send a waitress to take your order.”

“Why didn't you mention this earlier!” said Sean. “Start whistling!”

Henry went to the entrance of the tree, pushed aside the bark, pursed his lips, and whistled a melodious tune.

He came back inside the tree and sat down. “Of course, they might have closed down due to the war,” he said.

Nicola quietly crossed her fingers. She saw Sean bite his lip and Katie close her eyes.

A minute passed. Nobody said a word.

“Looks like they might have closed down,” said Henry regretfully.

Another minute passed.

“Okay, well, let's get to work,” said Nicola, faint with disappointment and hunger. “So, we need—”

The bark twitched and a young girl with long chestnut braids and liquid brown eyes walked into their hideaway. She spoke in a fast, bored monotone. “Hi-my-name-is-Poppy. I'll-be-your-waitress-today-may-I-take-your-order?” She pulled a pencil out from behind her ear and a notepad from the pocket of her white apron and looked up at them expectantly.

“Are we pleased to see
you
!” said Sean.

“Sorry I took a while,” said Poppy. “I was working on a new monologue.”

“Monologue? Are you an actress?” asked Katie.

“Acting is my life, my passion, my destiny!” said Poppy dramatically. “I can do
any
voice with perfect pitch. Do you want me to show you?”

“Sure.”

“Are we pleased to see
you
!” said Poppy in an absolutely perfect imitation of Sean.

Everyone laughed and applauded except for Sean, who said sourly, “Great. Well done. So, I'm thinking crispy sausages.”

“All we've got is the Breakfast Special—bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, and waffles—sound okay? I'm only meant to serve it to Volcomanians but I'll make an exception. You all look so hungry.”

They ordered seven breakfast specials.

“How much?” asked Nicola, hoping they had enough Whimsian currency.

“It's free.” Poppy waved away their money.

She looked them up and down. “You're Earthlings, aren't you?”

“We're a news crew—” began Nicola uncertainly, wondering if their cover was now totally blown.

“
Sure
you are.” Poppy grinned broadly and winked. She had obviously read the “Wanted” notice that Georgio had shown them. “And I'm the president of Whimsy.”

“Actually,
I'm
the president of Whimsy,” said Henry.

“Oh, are you?” said Poppy. “I didn't even know we had one.”

A short time later she was back carrying a tray piled high with wonderful smelling food.

“Do you deliver meals to the Volcomanian soldiers in the prison camp?” asked Nicola.

“Yes,” said Poppy. “Why?”

“You might be able to help us,” said Nicola, although she wasn't sure how.

“Just let me know what I can do,” said Poppy.

She left, and they all settled down to enjoy crispy bacon, succulent sausages, fluffy eggs, and featherlight waffles.

Thank goodness for food,
thought Nicola. Then she remembered all those prisoners cleaning the barbed wire fence without breakfast and felt guilty. As soon as they were all released she would make sure to arrange all the food they could eat.

They all sat in deep silence for a while, either looking at their empty plates or watching the movement of the butterflies fluttering around them.

Sean stretched his arms above his head. “All that food has made me sleepy.”

“
Aha!
” Nicola jerked up her head and pointed at Sean.

“What?” Sean looked over his shoulders with alarm. “Spider? Snake?”

“I've got an idea.”

“So do I!” said Katie. “It has to do with that waitress.”

“And me too!” said Tyler. “It's about using Whimsy's strengths.”

“Actually I think I've got an idea to do with that, too!” cried Sean.

The food had done the trick. Now that they all had full stomachs, their minds were sharp again. Suddenly everyone was on their feet, talking at the same time, ideas sparking off other ideas, and even the butterflies seemed energized by the electric new atmosphere.

It was eight AM the next morning and the Space Brigade and Henry Sweet were hiding behind a rosebush outside the prison gates.

They were all tired and a bit snappy. They hadn't slept at all the night before. Instead, they had spent the whole night in the tree trunk working out a plan to win the war against Volcomania.

If it worked,Volcomania would be defeated by nightfall.

If it failed, the Space Brigade would be in chains by nightfall.

Their plan was audacious, complicated, and possibly ridiculous. Nicola really had no idea if it was going to be a spectacular success or a spectacular failure.

“Here they come!” said Greta. “Right on time.”

Nicola looked up just as Mrs. Mania's limousine was driving through the gates of the prison camp. It was the same one they'd seen on Volcomania.

“Didn't they have to scuba dive? How do they get that car through the Underground Sea?” she asked.

“It converts to a submarine,” answered Tyler.

“How do you know that?” asked Nicola.

“It was obvious,” said Tyler. “The tires were wet, the windows were all foggy, and they left the periscope up on the roof.”

“Right,” said Nicola, who hadn't noticed any of that.

A few minutes later they saw Poppy, their waitress from the day before, walk into the camp pushing an enormous trolley piled high with covered plates of food. She was biting her lip and her eyes were darting all over the place.

“She looks nervous,” said Shimlara. “So much for being a great actress!”

“They won't even notice; they'll be too busy looking at the food,” Sean reassured her.

Poppy disappeared into the camp.Ten nail-biting minutes passed and suddenly she came running back out. Nicola's heart sank when she saw the terrified expression on her face. Something must have gone wrong.

“What is it?” asked Nicola fearfully. “What happened? Didn't it work?”

“It was all going beautifully,” said Poppy. “They all got into the food right away and within a few minutes they were falling sound asleep!”

It had been Nicola's idea to grind rose petals into the food Poppy took into the camp. She had remembered how Henry Sweet's wife had said the rose petals were a cure for insomnia. Once the Volcomanian guards and Mrs. Mania were fast asleep, they would go into the camp and restrain them.

“So what's the problem?” asked Sean. “That's what we wanted!”

“Yes, but one person hasn't eaten anything at all. She's wide awake!”

Disaster.
“It's not Mrs. Mania, is it?” asked Katie.

“No, she's sound asleep! It's worse! It's that really tall princess with the—” She stopped.“Why are you all laughing? I'm telling you, this girl looks scary!”

“That's our friend, Princess Petronella,” explained Nicola. “And she's not as scary as she looks. Don't worry—we'll take it from here. Thanks for all your help. Don't forget, we'll need you later!”

Poppy had two important roles to play in the execution of their plan.

“No problem,” smiled Poppy and ran off.

“Let's get in there fast before they wake up,” said Nicola to the others.

“This is so thrilling!” cried Henry Sweet as they ran in the prison gates. “The ups! The downs! The terror! The joy!” He tripped and nearly stumbled.