I unclipped the waveform dealie and turned to leave.
Emerson was standing between me and the door.
“My dad asked me to keep you here,” he said. “To stop you.”
I snorted. “Stop me?”
Emerson swallowed. “I don’t think he’s noticed that I’m shorter than all the girls in my class.”
I took a step toward Emerson. He took a step back.
“So what’s your dad like?” he asked.
The question surprised me, and I halted.
“I...don’t know,” I said.
“I was six when I lost my first tooth,” Emerson said. “It was in the summer, so my dad had me.”
I couldn’t stop looking at the door. Probably made me seem rude. “Okay,” I said. I couldn’t imagine where he was going with this.
“So I told my dad, and he said to put the tooth under my pillow that night. My best friend had already lost two teeth, so I knew about this. I knew what was coming.” He shifted. “I went to bed with the tooth under my pillow, and the next morning I found ten dollars under there instead.”
I raised my eyebrows at this. In my house the going rate was a quarter.
“So I ran out to the kitchen with my ten bucks,” said Emerson. “And I asked who put it under my pillow. And Dad said, ‘I did!’”
I frowned. “What, no Tooth Fairy?”
“That’s what I said. I asked him, ‘What about the Tooth Fairy?’ and Dad said, ‘I’m the Tooth Fairy! Me.’ Then he went back to reading his paper.”
“Yeesh,” I said. “That’s kind of rough.”
“It’s always...it is always always always about him.” He sighed. “When do most kids stop believing in the Tooth Fairy? Like, at what age?”
“Dunno,” I said. “Seven or eight?”
Emerson nodded, and looked backward at the spot where he’d last seen his father. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s when I mostly stopped too.”
We stared at each other in silence for a minute.
Finally he said, “Let me get the door for you.”
And he did, and that was nice, but the gesture was sort of ruined by the six armed Boov who were standing on the skywalk outside.
I was used to this sort of thing, but it took Emerson a minute to figure it out.
“Wh...” he said. “What are you all doing here?”
The Boov in the front answered as the others leveled their weapons.
“We have been ordered to prevent the humansgirl from leaving your chambers.”
“Oh...there...there must be some misunderstanding. My dad asked me to keep her here. He probably forgot to tell Captain Smek.”
The Boov exchanged looks.
“It was from your father that we received our orders,” said the Boov in front. “Captain Smek has made him a sergeant.”
“I heard lieutenant,” said another Boov.
“Rear admiral,” I suggested.
Emerson was red in the face. “It was my job! My dad left me to keep her here!”
The Boov looked back flatly. “But you failed.”
“But my dad didn’t know I was gonna fail!”
One of the other Boov gave him a strained smile. “Yyyyeah, he did, though.”
Emerson was shaking a little, clenching his fists. I was afraid he might do something stupid.
The Boov in the lead said, “Humansgirl, step back into Dan Landry’s quarters and await further instructions.”
I crossed my arms.
“No,” I said.
The Boov blinked.
“No whatnow?”
“No, I won’t step back into Dan Landry’s quarters,” I said.
He glanced back at his teammates, then leaned forward and addressed me.
“But you have to step back into Dan Landry’s—”
“But I don’t want to do it,” I said. “I don’t want to. I’m going to walk back across this skywalk and go downstairs and help my friend, ’cause he’s my friend.”
The Boov chewed his lip. “This has never happened before,” he said. “Would you excuse us a moment?”
“Sure.”
Emerson and I stood there as the Boov huddled up.
“What are we to do?” asked one.
“Shoot her,” said another.
“We are not allowed to shoot her. Captain Smek said so.” They looked down at their weapons.
“I do not know why I am even carrying this thing.”
The guards huddled closer, and I couldn’t make out what they were saying anymore. One of them leaned back and mimed a plan with his hands to the others, something to do with rope and a lot of waving and maybe a bird. Finally the knot of them opened to face me.
“Thank you for your patience,” said the leader. “We have come to a decision; we are going to—”
But that was when they were bombarded with bubbles and fell off the skywalk.
“Bill!” I cheered. “You came back!”
The little bluzzer hovered over the now-empty skywalk.
YES.
Emerson was looking over the edge at the falling Boov. “They inflated their suits,” he said. “They’re all bouncing around down there.”
“Are you still mad at me, Bill?” I asked.
YES.
“Why?”
Bill spilled forth two dozen bubbles of different shapes and sizes. I couldn’t follow it.
“You know I can’t read that, Bill.”
Emerson stepped forward. “It says, ‘I am...mad about the bluzzer on your back.’ Oh, right—you have a bluzzer on your back; did you know that?”
“What?” I craned my neck to look.
Then I saw it in my reflection in the mirrored door: a little silver bee, smaller than Bill. It was on my shoulder blade. Right where Dan Landry had patted me a few hours ago.
“Sonofa—” I whispered. I brushed at the bluzzer, and it took off. It was probably one of those homing beacons, and it had been on my back for hours. I’d led Smek and Landry right to J.Lo.
“We have to get underground,” I said. “I think J.Lo’s in trouble.”
