Jacob almost didn’t recognize the spaceship Praiseworthy. He was painted a brilliant orange and decorated with impressive metallic streamers. The dainty horses carved into the exterior had blazing golden manes, and the lace and frill were adorned to look like flags. The last time Jacob had seen Praiseworthy, the ship had been painted a sloppy black by Mick Cracken, and Praiseworthy himself had been thrilled with the color scheme, feeling it gave him a more threatening image as a buccaneer ship.
“Master Wonderbar,” Praiseworthy exclaimed when Jacob stepped on board. “I couldn’t be more pleased! Welcome!”
“They painted you orange? What about your days as a buccaneer vessel?”
“Oh, Master Wonderbar, your memory is quite impressive. I did enjoy my days as a dashing buccaneer ship, but I couldn’t be happier with my new color. When Princess Catalina told me I might be the personal escort vessel for the future president of the universe, I swiftly asked the maintenance crews to paint me orange. It is your favorite color, isn’t it, Master Wonderbar?”
Jacob smiled as he sat down in the copilot seat. “Thanks, Praiseworthy.”
Catalina tossed a small gadget into Jacob’s lap. It was a piece of plastic, orange on one side and black on the other. “Your Astral Telly,” she said. Jacob noticed that she held on to her own, which was purple and encrusted with jewels. “You’re going to love this. You don’t even have to turn a hand crank for a half hour like you do with your pathetic Earther phones.”
“Um. We don’t—”
“Quick demonstration. Just say ‘Call’ and the name of the person you want to talk to and let the Telly do the rest. When you want to hang up, just say ‘End call.’ Like so…”
Catalina held up her phone and said, “Call Michaelus Cracken.” She waited a moment, and Mick’s face appeared on Catalina’s screen.
“You’re ugly. End call.” Mick’s face dissolved to black. Catalina smiled brilliantly at Jacob. “See how that works?”
“Okay…”
“You can use it to watch television too. Just say the station you want to watch. You’ll probably want to watch a lot of ANN, so be sure and—”
“What’s A-N-N?”
Catalina froze, and then took a deep breath as if to steady herself. “Oh my. Jacob Wonderbar, you have so much to learn. ANN. It stands for Astral News Network. They’re going to be covering the election twenty-five zoomecs a starweek.”
Jacob looked down at his phone and said, “ANN.”
Sarah Daisy appeared on his screen, and with a flash Jacob found himself inside a spaceship watching Sarah. She was standing in front of a microphone next to Mick Cracken in what looked like a trendy nightclub, or at least the décor was entirely black and there was soft lounge music playing. He turned and looked around and no one seemed to have noticed his arrival. Jacob waved at Sarah, but she didn’t see him. Everywhere he looked, the ANN logo was etched into the corner of his vision.
She seemed to be giving a speech, and she was saying, “… and that is why I’ve decided to become Mick Cracken’s running mate.”
“No!” Jacob shouted, but no one heard him.
“Why do you think Mick Cracken will make a good president?” a reporter asked.
There had to have been a mistake. Sarah said she was finding Dexter and going back to Earth. He couldn’t begin to understand why she was campaigning for president with his worst enemy.
Sarah stared straight ahead. “He’s… Um… Well, he’s… Wow. The question is, why do I think Mick Cracken will make a good president?” She looked over at a beaming Mick Cracken. Sarah stalled for a few moments longer, staring at Mick, before she finally nodded to herself and said, “He doesn’t always smell.”
Jacob felt completely numb. “How do I get out of here? I want out of here!” he yelled.
From somewhere outside his head Catalina said, “Just say ‘Off.’”
“Off. Now.” Jacob said, but it didn’t work.
“Not ‘Off now,’ just ‘Off.’”
He yelled, “Off!” and he found himself back aboard Praiseworthy. He threw the Telly into Catalina’s hands.
“What is that thing? How was I inside that ship?”
Catalina looked at Jacob as if he had gone insane. “Um. It’s called television.”
Jacob tried to make sense of Sarah joining Mick’s campaign. He knew that she was upset that he hadn’t immediately gone to rescue Dexter, and of course she wasn’t happy when he agreed to let Catalina join the campaign, but he never thought she’d try and get back at him by siding with his worst enemy. He thought back to their last trip to space and the way Sarah and Mick had seemed oddly close after spending so much time together trying to steal the Dragon’s Eye…
Maybe Mick had been the whole reason she wanted to get back to space in the first place. She could have been lying when she said she was going to look for Dexter. It all could have just been an excuse so she could go run off with Mick.
“Hey,” Catalina said.
She took Jacob’s hands and made him sit up.
“Don’t worry about a thing. You still have the prettier running mate!” She reached out to hug him.
Jacob frowned, knowing how offended Sarah would be if she heard Catalina say that.
“You know they have a crush on each other,” Catalina said softly.
Jacob’s mood darkened further.
“Hey, hey,” Catalina said gently. “I’m here for you, Jakey. I know how great you are, and she’s just crazy if she’s too blind to see it.”
“Thanks,” Jacob mumbled as he accepted Catalina’s hug. His brain felt like it was spinning in circles, and he was at least glad to have someone there with him who thought he was great, someone who was famous and a princess and who happened to be correct when she bragged about being pretty.
“I know just the thing to distract you,” Catalina said.
“What?”
“Praiseworthy, please set your course for Planet Dork.”
“What’s Planet Dork?” Jacob asked.
Catalina smiled. “I think you may know it as Planet Archimedes.”
Jacob stood up quickly and said, “No way.” He definitely knew that planet. The last time he had been there he had been captured by insane scientists and deported to a planet full of substitute teachers. “Why are we going there?”
“Because you need a history lesson.”
Jacob’s Telly buzzed to life. Catalina stared at it for a moment and then tossed it over to him.
“Looks like the press knows you’re registered. You have seven hundred missed calls.”