The Incredible Space Raiders from Space! (8 page)

He missed his family. Even his sister. She was seventeen and very popular, which of course meant she had to be mean to Jonah. Or so he gathered. But she did have her moments. Once, she gave him a ride to school when he was late. And once, she told her boyfriend that he should stop calling him Jonie. That was nice. He missed her.

All of a sudden the window got blurry, and he realized he was crying. And then it hit him. He'd contracted space sadness. Willona had been right.

He picked up his journal. He had to fight it off.

Dear Mom and Dad . . . and Mara,

I know I already wrote you several letters (well, not you, Mara, but I did include you at the bottom in the first one), but I have contracted space sadness and have to write you another one. I suppose I could just write a journal entry, but that still feels weird.

I am now an official member of the ISR, and I have
not yet been eaten by the Shrieker. These are both technically good things, but I'm still sad. No one here likes me, and I think it's because I have parents. I don't really understand. At least Peter thought I looked like a girl. It made sense. But parents? It's very confusing.

They also confirmed that I'm a special recruit. That should also be a good thing, but it might also mean I have to fight the EETs first or something. That would be bad, since I still haven't practiced with my bonker. I better do that soon.

I know I already kind of said sorry, but I just wanted to say that again. I was thinking about Mara, and she does more nice things than I thought. Actually, I think I might have done as many mean things as her. Space makes you remember things. You know how she got home late and you caught her because something woke you up? That was me knocking on your door. I don't know why I did it. Maybe I was jealous that she was out and I was home playing video games. Oh, another time I put an old herring into her boyfriend's shoe for a few hours and then took it out just before he left, so he probably smelled like fish all day.

Anyway, tell her I'm sorry. But still not her boyfriend. Did they break up yet?

I don't know if this space sadness is deadly, but if so, this may be my last letter. If that is the case, good-bye.

Sincerely,

Jonah

Jonah did feel a little better. It was like he got to talk to someone who didn't want to exile him or throw him into the brig. That was a nice change.

However, he was still a bit lonely, and space kept rolling by his window. And so he was actually happy when there was a quiet knock at his door a few hours later.

“Hey,” Willona said, looking at the floor. She held out a food bar. “You dropped this.”

“Thanks,” Jonah replied. He was very hungry. “Is everything all right?”

She glanced at him. “Yes. Well, no. Everyone thinks you're a spy. Possibly a superspy, since no one saw you leave and steal the List. Even me. And I was with you.”

“Who would I be spying for?” Jonah asked.

She shrugged. “The crew. Maybe even the EETs.”

“Why would I spy for evil aliens that are trying to destroy the universe?”

“Who knows?” Willona said. “Could be that they paid you off to infiltrate our ranks and sabotage our mission. For all we know, you are an EET. Well, I doubt that, since they're supposedly, like, eight feet tall and have claws and sharp teeth, but it is one theory. I mean, how else could you have snuck out and stolen the List? It seems impossible.”

“That's because I didn't steal it,” Jonah said.

“It's just a little suspicious,” Willona replied. “You know—the guards disappear, and then the List is stolen. They think it might be an inside job.”

Jonah frowned. “Who's ‘they'?”

“Ben.”

“He really doesn't like me,” Jonah said. “Maybe I should talk to him.”

“To tell him you like his shoes?” Willona asked.

Jonah hesitated. “I was going to say something nice.”

Willona shook her head and walked into the room. “That doesn't work, you nincompoop. I still like you, Jonah. I know that I would probably like a superspy, since they would be very smooth, and girls always like spies.”

“They do?” Jonah asked.

“I heard that once,” Willona said. “But you seem so nice. And, you know, defenseless. No offense.”

“None taken,” Jonah muttered.

Willona turned to face him. “But it's hard, you know. This is my first career posting, and I don't want to mess it
up. I'm on the rise. And people might think I'm helping out a spy. That can't be good.”

Jonah nodded. He knew what was coming. He was sad, but he couldn't blame her. She had her career to think about. “So you can't be seen with me anymore.”

She sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Jonah said. “I understand.”

“You're on brig duty,” Willona said. “The lieutenant wanted me to tell you. Usually no one starts without training, but since your first job is to release Martin, the only prisoner, you're probably safe. I'll still bring you messages, but that's all. Sorry.”

Jonah just nodded again. He actually felt like he might cry, but he held it back. He remembered what his mother said: Don't cry in front of the person who hurt you.

Willona was just leaving when she saw the journal and the pen on his cot. It was open to Jonah's letter. She stared at it for a moment, then looked at Jonah.

Without warning, she walked up to him and gave him a hug.

“No spy would get space sadness,” she whispered, and then she pulled back again. Her eyes were watering. “Forget my career. I choose friends. Well, both. I still want a career. I'll just make them like you again. I am the third most important greeter. I got the job for my charm.
And because I can't use a bonker. I'll work on everyone else. Don't worry, Jonah. I'm here for you. Even if it looks lonely from your window.”

She hurried out of the room, and Jonah smiled and wiped his eyes, just to be sure. Still dry. His parents would be proud.

Willona poked her head back into the room. “PS: You start right now.”

T
HE CURRENT BRIG GUARD, A
boy named Eric the Excellent, gave Jonah a wary look as he stepped away from the door. He didn't seem to trust Jonah with the job.

“So I can let Martin out?” Jonah asked as Eric the Excellent slowly backed away, making sure to keep his eyes on Jonah while clutching his bonker.

That seemed to be the new strategy for the Space Raiders. They couldn't exile Jonah, but they certainly didn't trust him. They'd carefully watched him all the way down Squirrel Street, popping out of doorways and sending hand signals down the hall. Even now at least four armed Space Raiders were watching the exchange. Jonah wasn't exactly sure what damage he could do guarding what would soon be an empty brig, but lots of things didn't make much sense on the
Fantastic Flying Squirrel
. He was getting used to it.

“Yeah,” Eric said cautiously, still backing away. “Lieutenant Gordon thought you might want to do it, since you've already done some hard time with Martin.”

Jonah shrugged. “It was just three hours.”

“For now,” Eric said.

“So I just stand here?” Jonah called. Eric was already twenty feet away.

Eric reached his bedroom door. “Think you can manage it?”

Then he quickly stepped into his room and slammed the door shut. The loud clang echoed down Squirrel Street. Jonah just sighed and swung open the brig door. Light flooded into the small cell, pushing back the darkness. Jonah's eyes widened.

There, lying in the middle of the floor, was Martin the Marvelous.

He was lying flat on his back, eyes closed, arms sprawled out beside him. It looked like he'd been shot. Jonah rushed into the room and knelt down beside him.

“Martin,” he said desperately, shaking his shoulders. “Martin!”

Martin's eyes flicked open. “Yes?”

Jonah yelped and fell backward in surprise. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I sleep here,” Martin said calmly. “Good for your posture. And the bed smells.”

Jonah shook his head and stood up. “Do you have to sleep like that?”

Martin slowly climbed to his feet, squinting against the light. “Always have. What did you do now?”

“Nothing,” Jonah said. “You're free.”

Martin looked out into the hallway. “I am?”

Jonah nodded. “I'm the brig guard now.”

Martin gave Jonah a fierce hug. “Thank you! Thank you! It's been the longest three days of my life. From now on, Whiskerface is on his own. Or I'll just share my bar. Probably that. Poor Whiskerface. He's probably starving!”

Martin skipped out of the brig. “I'm back!” He came to an abrupt halt.

Jonah followed him out and saw that at least ten grim-looking Space Raiders were now watching them from all parts of Squirrel Street, their hands on their weapons.

Martin turned to Jonah. “Did I miss something?”

•  •  •

Martin the Marvelous headed off to his bedroom soon after, and Jonah was left alone, standing in front of the old, rusted brig door. He had no idea how long he was supposed to stand here, or if they even had clocks or time or night and day on the Squirrel.

He did know he was getting tired. On the way to his shift, he'd managed to quickly eat the food bar, which still tasted like bean-flavored cardboard. It was mealy and grainy and a dark brown color that was really unappetizing. But Jonah felt like he hadn't slept in days, with all the excitement since he'd been on the
Squirrel
, and he was really hoping his shift would be over soon.

The hours dragged on, and one Space Raider after another marched past, glaring at him and shaking their heads at his badge. He watched Alex head off down Death Alley to cheers and well wishes from the others, but Alex didn't say anything to Jonah.

The one bright spot was a quick visit from Jemma, who just gave him a warm smile and said, “Welcome to the ISR.” Then she patted him on the arm and left again.

But other than that, he just stared at the gray metal wall in front of him, wondering how old the
Squirrel
was and where it came from and whether or not he would get another food bar when he was finished. Disgusting or not, he was getting hungry.

At one point, Ben the Brilliant walked by, looked at Jonah, and stopped, sneering. Jonah glanced nervously at the bonker in his hand. He really wished Alex had taught him some moves before he left.

“So you're an official member now,” Ben said. He was even taller up close, at least four inches taller than Jonah.

“Yep,” Jonah replied.

Ben met his eyes. “I don't know how you managed to trick the commander, but we're all watching you. If you make one wrong move, I'll kick your heinie.”

“That's the same as ‘keister', right?” Jonah asked, trying to remember.

“Don't play games with me,” Ben said.

“What game?” Jonah asked.

Ben shook his head. “You think you're pretty clever, don't you? I think you're just a cow-headed grass face.”

Jonah frowned. “Is that an insult?”

“What do you think, cloud brain?”

“I don't know anymore,” Jonah said.

Ben leaned in. “You don't belong here.”

Jonah took a tiny step backward. “Probably not.”

Ben smiled, exposing particularly yellow teeth. His breath smelled like old food bars. “Are you scared, monkey head?”

“I will assume you're not talking to an on-duty Space Raider,” Willona said suddenly, hurrying down Squirrel Street. “That would be against the rules, of course! Not good. Four hours in the brig, I think. Have to check the rules. Jonah might forget your bathroom break, too. Couldn't blame him.”

Ben glanced at her. “Of course not. Just making sure he was all right.” He gave Jonah one last sneer and then headed down the hallway.

Willona reached Jonah and smiled. “How was it?”

“Long,” Jonah said. “Why is there a guard when the brig is empty, anyway?”

Willona seemed to think about that. “Rules,” she said finally. “Getting tired?”

“Yeah,” Jonah said. “Is it nighttime?”

“It's always nighttime in space. But it's time for you to sleep. You're on again when Eric the Excellent is tired.
You're the only two brig guards.” She started down the hallway. “I have to go check on the Death Alley guards. I relieve them for bathroom breaks. Couldn't find work for me, now that I've greeted everyone. We do need to have a rules lesson soon, though. Maybe I'll wake you up a bit early. Oh, and get a food bar. It's almost time for breakfast!”

She stopped to knock on Eric the Excellent's door, yelled for him to wake up, and then gave Jonah one last lopsided grin before turning down Death Alley. Jonah waited until a groggy-looking Eric the Excellent poked his head out of his door, and then he headed for the cafeteria.

Lyana the Forgotten was sitting at a table when he walked in. She was just sitting there, twisting one of her long braids around her finger, staring at the wall.

“You're a bit early for breakfast,” she said immediately.

“Oh,” Jonah said. “Sorry. I just got off guard duty.”

She stared at him for a moment and then went to grab him a food bar. She handed it to him, but when he grabbed it she held on to her end. Jonah looked at her, confused.

“I don't think you're a spy, Jonah,” she said quietly.

Jonah looked away from her intent gaze. “Thanks. Me either.”

“But you're not a Space Raider, either,” she said.

“Oh,” Jonah murmured.

He snuck another glance at her. Once again, he just saw sadness in her eyes.

“You're not a Space Raider because you're not afraid. And you're not afraid because you haven't felt pain,” she whispered.