“I’m next,” Luna announced, pushing past Chamberlin to step into the only bathroom on board the space transport. The bathroom door whooshed closed, leaving Chamberlin alone in the chilly hallway. The butler sighed and returned to his room, bath caddy hanging loosely by his side.
Chamberlin had been waiting to get in the shower for several hours, and every time he thought it was finally his turn, one of the girls beat him to the bathroom door. The shower had been running for nearly four hours straight. He was beginning to suspect that when he finally got his chance to wash up, there would be no hot water left.
As far as Chamberlin was concerned, the first morning on Borana had been nothing short of a disaster. Juno was the first girl awake, at the stroke of five-thirty. As was her morning custom, Juno turned on loud, angry music and launched into a workout. Of course, the music had woken up the other girls, who were less than pleased about the early wake-up call. There had been a lot of groaning and yelling—and several thrown shoes.
Rhea and Luna both preferred to stay up late and sleep in, so five-thirty was an unacceptable hour in their minds. (And Luna, of course, was upset about not having her customary morning juice delivered for the second morning in a row.) Hera didn’t particularly mind waking up early, but Juno’s grunting and blood-pumping music had gotten in the way of her relaxing sun salutations and rosehip tea. Athena was indifferent about the time on the clock, but she hated not having her privacy first thing in the morning. She hated people seeing her in her vulnerable, just-awake condition.
As soon as it was clear that no one would be getting back to sleep, the girls began fighting over the shower. Then there had been a slew of arguments about whose job it was to clean up after breakfast. Every one of them left their dishes on the table when they had finished eating, obviously expecting that the mess would magically disappear and be dealt with. The girls’ room was already messy, and Hera had reluctantly informed the others that she didn’t know how to tie her own shoes (someone had always done it for her).
The constant bickering had gotten louder and louder as the morning went on, and the smell in the kitchen began to seep out into the common rooms. Lunch was still hours away, and every single one of them was on their very last nerve. They hadn’t been together for twenty-four hours, and it already felt like an eternity.
Early in the afternoon, as a treat and an attempt at distraction, Chamberlin had opened up the crates of supplies and disguises he had brought along for the girls. “These are just some things that will help get us through until you can all return home,” he explained. Inside the crates they found a random collection of clothing and fabric, kits of hair dye, crafting supplies, a dozen pairs of ratty shoes and boots, and several very out-of-date music players.
The girls removed everything from the boxes and laid it out in the transport’s living room. “Ugly, uglier, and ugliest,” Luna said, surveying the selection of clothing with a scowl on her face. “Where and when did you get this stuff, Chamberlin? Were all of these things in some sort of Borana grade school lost-and-found bin back in 2016?”
Chamberlin frowned at her. “I did the best that I could. You may choose outfits from this supply or wear the clothes that Athena brought for you. The only thing you need to know is, you will no longer be allowed to dress in your usual clothing.”
“Some of these things are sort of pretty,” Hera said, pulling out a length of silver fabric. She rubbed the fabric against her face and said, “This feels like evening bramble rose petals!” With a sunny smile, she added, “And it will be nice to have some music to listen to.”
Rhea dug around at the bottom of the box and extracted a sewing kit. She grinned, holding the kit up like a prize. “Anyone care if I tear this stuff up and make it look like it came from a store instead of the trash? I can make a few alterations to everything and it might be halfway decent. I could totally design a cute disguise for each of us.” She looked at each of the other princesses and added, “I think I can come up with something that will suit each of your styles, but that is just far enough from your regular clothes that we’ll all look really different. I learned to sew when I was nine. It was part of my formal princess training—but making all those silly quilts and skirts was immensely dull, so I convinced my tutors to let me study fashion design instead. I practiced my skills on the palace employees.”
“Go for it,” Juno said, glancing skeptically at a long purple skirt with butterflies embroidered on it. “Good luck.”
Athena nodded. “If you are qualified, then by all means, have at it.”
Rhea gathered all the clothes up into her arms—the drab selection from Athena and the random hand-me-downs from Chamberlin—and headed for the girls’ bedroom, happy to have a little solo project to keep her busy for a while.
Meanwhile, Chamberlin dismissed himself for a much-needed nap. Muttering something about a tepid shower and not enough sleep, he shuffled off. The girls’ butler was obviously disappointed no one had appreciated his little gift.
As soon as he was gone, Athena slid her trunk of supplies out. The clothes she had packed hadn’t been popular with the other girls, but she hoped the other things would be. She pulled out the musical instruments, one by one. As soon as her keyboard was settled on her lap, Athena spread out her fingers and played a few notes. Something about the bright sound of the keys carried her straight back home, to the only planet and life she had ever known. Playing the keyboard made her feel at home.
“Drumsticks!” Juno gasped, peering into the trunk. She pulled them out, her purple face bright. “May I?”
“Of course,” Athena said. “I brought these things to share. But I don’t have any drums…”
Juno grinned. “That’s not a problem. This planet is a space dump, remember? I’m sure there are some things floating around outside that I can use to put together a kit.” She raced toward the door of the space transport, certain she could build a killer drum set out of spare parts and recycled metals on the streets of Borana.
Hera reached into the trunk and tugged out the bass guitar. She flopped back onto the couch and strummed a few notes. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the sound. She, too, felt most at home with an instrument—or her camera—in her hands.
“You play bass?” Luna asked, sounding both surprised and impressed.
“A little,” Hera shrugged. She plucked at the strings. “I’m more of a classical upright bass player, but an electric bass can be pretty fun from time to time, too. Do you play any instruments, Luna?”
“I’ve been taking vocal lessons for thirteen years,” Luna boasted. “Opera, French classical, and soprano ballads are my specialties. I write songs and play a little piano, too—but only because my tutors made me learn so I would be a ‘well-rounded’ princess.”
Athena tapped out a simple melody on her keyboard. A few notes in, Luna began to sing along:
Livin’ on Borana.
It doesn’t get a whole lot uglier than this.
But life … as we know it … is gone, gone, gone.
Lost. Forgotten. Stolen …
Her voice cut out. But a moment later, Hera jumped in and filled in the empty spaces with the thrumming beat of her bass.
Rhea peeked out of the bedroom, her face lighting up when she saw the unused electric guitar on top of Athena’s trunk. She bopped out to the living room, strapped it over her shoulder, and chimed in. For a few minutes, the girls were unified in song. For once, they were getting along—but only because they didn’t have to talk.
The tranquility only lasted for a few minutes. Just as Luna had started building a new verse, Juno returned to the space transport with a collection of metal to create her drum kit. She spread all the supplies out in the living room, crashing and banging around and taking no notice of the other girls. It was as if she were totally unaware that she was making a ruckus.
Irritated, Luna snapped, “I can’t hear myself think with you building your noisy little toys over there. Can you please go somewhere else?” She said this in a voice that suggested she was used to getting what she asked—always.
“These are not toys,” Juno grunted. “It’s gonna be a killer set of drums.”
Luna rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Drums are just noisemakers. They don’t make real music. You and your stack of garbage over there are ruining my sound.”
Juno glared at her but said nothing. She returned to her project, tapping her drumstick against one of the drums in a thrumming rhythm. It actually sounded great.
“I just had an idea,” Athena said suddenly. “What if we all tried to play together? Like a band?”
“Backup for me?” Luna clarified.
“As if,” Rhea scoffed. “A band is a group thing. There is no star.”
“Unless you’re the singer,” Luna said. “A band’s singer is obviously the star. It’s the words that matter. The instruments are just background noise.”
The other girls began to argue with her, but Athena put up a hand to silence them all. Miraculously, the bickering stopped. “Every member of a band is important. And since we all play different instruments, we could make an amazing group.” She put her hands on her hips. “At least it’s something to do.”
Juno looked up from her makeshift drum kit and muttered, “So I’m not allowed to fight back against Geela … but I am allowed to play cute little songs with a bunch of princesses? Awesome.”
“It is awesome,” Hera said, not realizing Juno was being sarcastic.
“What if we did both?” Athena said. “Chamberlin won’t let us fight back against Geela as ourselves—but what if we fought back through music?”
Rhea shook her head. “I’m not following.”
“We could write rebellion songs!” Athena said, her usually pale cheeks flushed pink. “Here’s what I’m thinking: We go undercover as a band and get our songs broadcast to spread the message of hope and rebellion.”
“And love. I’d love to spread a message of love,” Hera cooed.
“But we can’t broadcast anything,” Juno pointed out. “Every station is all Geela all the time.” Quietly, she added, “I wonder when she’ll form a band…”
“So I guess we just have to go out on tour, then,” Rhea said, shrugging.
Athena pointed at her. “Yes! We can travel around the galaxy preaching a message of rebellion, freedom, and love to the people!”
“I’m all about rebellion,” Juno agreed.
“If you think we can help our people and planets reclaim their freedom, I’m in!” Rhea said happily.
“I’d be the lead singer of this band, right?” Luna asked. She looked around at the other girls, waiting for them to agree. No one replied, so Luna continued, “As long as I don’t have to share the spotlight with anyone, I guess I’ll do it.”
“A band,” Athena said, nodding. “I like it.”
Rhea grinned. “Geela is always bashing other peoples’ music, so what better way to rebel against her than by writing a bunch of freedom songs?”
“I can think of a few better ways to get back at Geela,” Juno said, punching a fist into her palm. She pounded one of her drumsticks noisily against the edge of her homemade cymbal.
“Nonviolent fighting,” Hera said softly. “This is the smart way to fight.”
“I have to say, your idea is kind of brilliant, Athena,” Luna noted with a small smile.
Juno shrugged and said, “I’m in, too. Just know that I’ll be pretending my snare drum is Geela’s starship.” Then she lifted her arm high and slammed one of her drumsticks down with an enormous boom. The fight was on.