Chapter 3
Niki lay back on her bed with a deep sigh of satisfaction. Orchestra practice had gone particularly well this afternoon. Mr Warble the music teacher had remarked that he’d never seen a violin used like that. Well, it was Tanisha Day’s own fault – she shouldn’t have come in early on the second bar. She gazed up at the swaying shadows on her sloping ceiling. She’d commandeered this bedroom as soon as they moved in. It was the biggest in the house, although its size paled in comparison with the grand living spaces to which she was accustomed. She sighed. She missed her old life. Well, not all of it, but definitely the simple things – like a massive luxury
suite with its own spa, private zoo and a convertible roof. Sam had objected to her taking the upper storey of the house, saying it was harder to defend from attack or infiltration. Such a bore. He would have preferred her to sleep in a more secure location. She tutted to herself. The background research she’d been supplied with before their arrival in Middling had included a sample of typical fiction, including one genre of story that seemed exclusively to involve young women – often women of rank with great hair – being locked up in towers by their elders. Sam would approve. Were it up to him, she would be bolted behind a two-metre-thick Teledium metal door in some subterranean prison. Without her hair straighteners.
There was a hesitant knock at the door.
“Go away,” she called out in irritation. Hadn’t she made it clear to the rest of the Apples that she was not to be disturbed? Having to spend so much time at Middling High School was wearing. School wasn’t taxing intellectually or physically, of course; she was far smarter and more able than anyone else there, including the teachers. No, it was the tedium of this existence that she needed to take time out of, and in particular the task she’d been set by Sam and Mercedes, which was a wearisome burden. Following that unremarkable neighbour boy
everywhere felt like the biggest waste of her time. Be his shadow, Sam had insisted. She understood why he wanted her to stick to Gavin, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Or him. She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, then reached in the gap between her mattress and bed frame and pulled out a sleek mobile phone. Its bright casing shimmered like it had been carved from a cloud using a sliver of ice.
There was a gasp from the door. She whirled round to see Bart standing there, his anxious gaze trained on the phone.
“Do Mum and Dad know you’ve got that?”
“They are not my mum and dad. And they’re never going to find out,” she said, adding darkly, “Are they?”
“No. Never,” he gulped. “Uh, so what are you using it for, exactly?”
“What on Earth?”
“I said, what are you using—”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s the title of my channel.” She turned the phone around so he could see the screen. On it was an image of a smiling Niki, just about recognisable beneath a ton of filters, above which was splashed the phrase “What on Earth?”
He squinted at the screen. “Why’s there a number six there?”
Niki snatched the phone away and sniffed. “That’s my followers.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve just started,” she said defensively. “Give it a month and a few irresistible posts and it’ll be—”
“Seven?”
“Thousands!” She threw him a murderous look. “Millions!” She strutted into the centre of the room. “If I’m stuck here, I might as well do something to entertain myself. Now, be silent.” She swept back her hair took a deep breath and …
… her head burst into flames.
Instead of running about in panic looking for a fire extinguisher like any normal person would do under the circumstances, she just fixed a smile across her face. The flames encircled her head like a burning crown.
“You’re not supposed to do that—” began Bart, immediately falling silent under her fiery glare.
“I will do exactly as I wish,” she said coldly, pointing the phone at her face and tapping the record icon.
“Dread Princess Xyllara, Spawn of D’Rek the Destroyer, Firelord of Trilia Zed Zed 6, Inheritor of the Haunted Stars, First Hatchling of Pamnatakrocula the Pitiless, Sovereign of Shadows, heir apparent to the throne of the Dark Galaxy, coming to you again from planet Dirt.
OK, so it’s … five-thirty in the evening of my ninetysecond day in this desolate place. As bad as it is having to trail around after Gavin Cheesely like he possesses the secret of the ancients, it’s made so much worse by taking place here. Its inhabitants refer to it as—”
“NO!” shouted Bart. “You’re not supposed to say where we are!”
Niki’s flames shot higher and she sent him a dangerous look.
“Sorry,” he mumbled apologetically. “I just mean, it’s not safe. Sam and Mercedes say—”
“I don’t care what they say.” She gave a dismissive tut. “And, anyway, who’s going to find out? No one’s going to come across this place, not in a million years. If there’s a bright spot in the universe, then Middling is as far from it as a bold, independently minded Galactic League princess could possibly find herself.” She returned her attention to the video. “On today’s episode of ‘What on Earth?’ I want to talk about something that came up at orchestra practice today. And I don’t mean Tanisha Day’s bruise. No, I am referring to the fourbeat musical combo known as Cubic Parsec, the most successful and sensational pop group on this planet, according to my classmates. I detect notable increases in heart rate and elevated skin temperature whenever the
group is discussed, especially its lead singer, Hal Hill. The topic of conversation today was Cubic Parsec’s major new tour. Obviously, they’re not coming to Middling, and yet the excitement here is palpable. The unwarranted adulation for a glamorous figurehead I can totally understand.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s the songs I don’t get. ‘Talkin’ ’Bout a Pollution Revolution’, ‘Polar Bear Blues’, ‘It’s the Climate, Mate’. They’re all about what people here refer to as ‘the environment’. By which they mean the air, earth, water and all the living things that surround them. Young people in particular are obsessed with ‘the environment’. And not in the way you’d expect – they want to protect it. I know. You’d think it was the only planet they had. The inhabitants of this place have no idea how to conduct themselves like a civilised culture. Haven’t they read Ruling the Galaxy –A Guide for the Aspiring Tyrant?” She snapped her fingers and pointed to her bookcase. Bart hurried over, retrieved a large hardback book prominently displayed there and handed it to her. She balanced it on one knee and flicked through the pages. “Yes, here it is. Chapter twenty-three explains the importance of the environment. You extract as much as your machines can pull from the soil, the air, the oceans, then move on to the next world and start all over again. That’s progress. That’s conquest. That’s how
you build an empire!”
Niki ended the recording with an indifferent swipe at the phone and waved Bart away. “You are dismissed.”
Bowing low, he retreated to the door and hesitated, remembering why he had come in the first place.
“Why are you still here?” Niki demanded.
“Dad said I had to get you. It’s time to leave for the quiz.”
She yawned. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going.”
“But you have to!”
She could see him regret his choice of words as soon as they slipped from his tongue. No one told her she must do anything, especially not someone like Bart.
“Apologies,” he grovelled. “But people will ask questions if you don’t show, and you know what Mum and D— Sam and Mercedes say about unwanted questions.”
Let them ask their questions. She was fed up pretending. Fed up hiding her light. It was such a blisteringly beautiful light!
“It’s the final,” said Bart hopefully. “And it’s against Middling Academy.”
Middling Academy was Middling High’s archrival. Now, that was a concept she could get behind: an adversary to defeat. An enemy to crush.
“Fetch my outer layer,” she commanded, striding past him out of the bedroom and heading downstairs.
“And would you like a banana?” he said, tripping after her.
She frowned. “Why would I want a banana?”
“No reason,” he said, reaching the foot of the staircase. He crossed the tiny hallway, plucked her coat from the stand and helped her on with it.
“Now bring my personal transport around to the front of the dwelling,” she ordered.
“Right away, Your Highness.”
She placed her hands on her hips and declared to no one in particular, “I shall ride my twenty-six-inch Carrera Vengeance junior mountain bike to the quiz where I will single-handedly smite Middling Academy and then we will have chips!”
There was just one thing Earth had to offer that Niki had found favour with during her time on the planet: a bag of hot chips from Act of Cod, the fish and chip shop on the high street. And those little sachets of ketchup. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.