The Micki Adventures

    By Linda Bindner

                                            Chapter 10: The Plan

        The following morning, Micki studied the back seat of the older model vehicle she and Al and Alice had borrowed as they left the outskirts of Walltown behind them. “It’s a good thing you were able to borrow this vehicle,” she said to Al.  “I couldn’t even get into the palace vehicle house.  Those guard dogs were way too mean.”

        Al shrugged.  “They were just doing their job, weren’t they?”

“Ugh,” Micki agreed halfheartedly, recalling her recent run-in with those big, slavering, growling dogs, all the while wishing she could forget it.  “If it’s just their job, they’re really good at it,” she said, shuddering.  “They wouldn’t even take the food I brought for them from the kitchens.”

        Al shook her head.  “They must be well trained.  I’ve never heard of an animal that refused free food.”

A second shiver crawled up Micki’s spine.  “I hate dogs!”

“At least Alice remembered about this vehicle.  She can even drive it.”  Al smiled at Micki.  “I knew it was a good idea to bring her along.”

Micki frowned.  “You did?  I thought bringing Alice was my idea.”

“Your idea… my idea…”  Al’s voice trailed into indifference.  “It doesn’t matter.  I’m just glad she’s here.  We would be lost without her.”  Al’s voice turned to a frantic whisper.  “Don’t tell her I said that.”

Micki grinned.  “My lips are sealed.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Al asked, becoming all business.

“Um… I thought we would just make it up once we got there.  At least we know we’re going in the right direction.”

 “I’m so glad you thought about that.”  Al smiled in admiration.  “Asking the Tutor how to get across the Hammondy border by asking about every other border, too… that was brilliant.”

But Micki only rolled her eyes.  “That was an accident.”

“But a good one.”

“At least he doesn’t suspect anything… or, I don’t think he does.  You never know with the Tutor.  Sometimes it’s like he can read my mind.”

Al was dismissive.  “As long as he doesn’t read it this time.  Or if he does, he won’t read it for several hours yet.”

“It’ll be too late by then; we’ll already be across the border.”  Micki tried to sound more confident than she really was.  Her strange suspicion that the Tutor could read her mind was true more often than not.  When she ran away from the palace, he always seemed to find her more quickly than she anticipated, just as he had when she first met Al.  It was weird.

But weird or not, it was unlikely he would uncover this plan in time to stop them before they at least were granted an audience with King… Feston, that was his name.  All those at the palace would be plenty grateful to her and Al and Alice once they convinced King Feston to help them.

In fact, they would be heroes!

Micki’s smile grew huge.  She couldn’t wait to see Rachel’s face when she came home with stories about Hammondy, or possibly even a cure for The Disease!

That was when the cabin intercom crackled to life.  “Hey,” came Alice’s voice from the front of the vehicle.  “Come sit up here with me.  I’m getting bored all by myself.”

                                        ~~~

They reached the gate at the Hammondy border hours later, but right on schedule.

“See,” Micki said, trying hard not to sound smug.  “It’s right where I said it would be.”

“Where the Tutor said it would be, you mean,” Al corrected.

“What?” Alice said in surprise.  “Didn’t you know just where to go?”

Al waved dismissively.  “Of course we did.”

Alice glared at them in suspicion despite her sister’s casual gesture.  “Queen Madge told you where to go, right?”

“Of course,” Al said again.  “Now all we have to do is find the King.”  She turned to Micki.  “Any ideas?”

“I’ve already got this part figured out,” Micki assured them with confidence.  “All we have to do is get captured.”

Alice’s eyes grew wide.  “Get captured?  That’s your grand plan?”

“It’ll be easy,” Micki said.  “The border guards should be here any minute now.  They’ll take us straight to the King, or I don’t know my guards.”  Guards were the one thing she was absolutely sure she understood.

Five minutes later, they were surrounded by men dressed in crisp black uniforms, and holding guns.

Micki hadn’t counted on the guns.  In fact, these guards weren’t anything like the friendly people that Micki had anticipated.  They reminded her of that mean guard she had encountered in the market square the day she met Al.  In fact, these guards made that guard seem nice.

“Okay,” she said, more to break the growing silence than because she was particularly confident any longer.  “Alice, it’s up to you.  What are they saying?”

Micki had expected that Alice would immediately know exactly what all their grunts and growls meant.  But Alice looked more perplexed than confident in her Hammish speaking abilities.  “I think… they want us to… bow down?  Kiss the ground?  Something like that.”  She reached hesitantly towards the ground, her eyes on the guns pointed at them the entire time.

Well, each country had its traditions.  So Micki bent at the knees as well, following Alice to the ground.  “Al, touch the ground,” she ordered on a whisper.

“Like this?”  Al bent at the waist.  Her movement was instantly rewarded with five guns thrust in her face.  Her hands flew above her head in the gesture of surrender.  “I’m sorry!  Sorry!  Alice, tell them I’m sorry!”

Alice said something that sounded like she was clearing her throat.

More guns thrust towards each of them.

Al froze.  “Something tells me this isn’t working.”

One of the guards roughly pushed her to the ground.

“Okay, okay, I’m down!” Al said loudly, smiling at the nearest guard.  It looked more like she was preparing to bite him.  “Good job!”

“Talk slowly, but not so loud,” Alice suggested.

“Oh, okay.  Gooood joooob,” Al said slowly and distinctly.  She nodded and bared her teeth.

“Is that supposed to be a smile?” Micki asked in disbelief.

“I’m too nervous to smile right!” Al wailed.  She thrust her hands higher into the air.

The guards gestured choppily at them, followed by grunts and growls and more throat clearings.  The three girls rose slowly to their feet, hands always above their heads, letting the guards shove them forward.

“Yes,” Alice sarcastically drawled, “getting captured was a marvelous idea.”

                                        ~~~

But a twenty minute ride later, they were ushered into a large square building that was clearly the Hammondy idea of a palace.

“See?” Micki said, smug again.  “Just as I planned.”

They were ushered down a long hall, turned into a second corridor, were rushed passed many closed doors, through a big, empty space where their footsteps echoed eerily back at them, into another corridor, then through a double door and into another big space that was full of very tall men.  They were all bent over a table covered in what looked like maps.

Micki goggled.  This scene looked so much like the scene with her mom and Rachel and the healers and the advisors that she wanted to laugh.  Looking at maps was clearly a royal pastime.

The men all turned as one to stare at the three girls.

One man in particular stared at them the longest.  He was dressed just a hint better than the others, his long, dark hair held back by a circlet of gold.

This must be King Feston, Micki thought.  Just the man she wanted to see.

Her eyes continuously on the man’s golden circlet, Micki slowly drew her Bracelet from her wrist.  Without even thinking how such a movement would look to those in the room, she gave her wrist an energetic flick.

The Bracelet twanged into a circlet, and ten guns instantly appeared two inches from her face.

Micki froze, gulped, then carefully placed her circlet firmly on her head.

As if wearing a circlet declared her royal background without a word, Micki spoke in as regal a voice as she could.  “I am Princess Em from the royal house of Ruralusia,” she said, proud her voice only wavered a little.

Alice dutifully repeated everything she said.  At least, Micki was sure she heard the words ‘Em’ and ‘Ruralusia,’ so she assumed Alice was interpreting for her.  She waited for King Feston to acknowledge her as a fellow royal.

King Feston did no such thing.  Instead, he laughed, a bellow of noise that came straight from his stomach, aimed at her.

Soon, all the men in the room were laughing at her.

Micki hadn’t expected this.  She’d thought that these negotiations would be relatively straight forward, despite the language barrier.  What should she say next?  “Um....”  Her voice trailed off to silence.

King Feston turned, said something to someone hovering at the edges of the room, then turned back, an amused look still on his face.

Well, at least she was amusing him.  At this point, Micki counted any reaction that wasn’t a gun immediately thrust into her face as progress.  She tentatively smiled back.

King Feston said something else.

Alice translated, “Who is this young…dog?   No, whelp.”

“I am Princess Em,” Micki said again to the King, enunciating perfectly, though she was too scared to do as the Tutor always suggested and imagine him in his underwear.  “I come from Ruralusia to beg your help.”  There.  ‘Beg’ sounded like a good, non-threatening word.

Alice spoke her words in Hammish… she hoped.

King Feston laughed again, and said something else.

Alice repeated, “Beg my help for what?”

Weighing every word she said, Micki carefully asked, “Have you heard of The Disease?”

King Feston didn’t wait for Alice to interpret, but let his brows frown over his eyes.  “Quay?”

He was obviously asking, ”What?” so Micki explained further.  “It’s an illness, a sickness.  It causes death.”

Alice interpreted.

King Feston said two words.  Alice said, “The Virus?”

Virus… disease… same thing.  “Yes,” Micki said.  “Have you had many cases?  Can you treat it?  We’re all dying from it.”  Not exactly true, but the truth was too complicated to go into just now.  “Do you know what to do?  Maybe even have a cure?” she said, her voice full of hope.

By the expression of confusion on Alice’s face, Micki knew she had said too much.

It didn’t matter, because King Feston’s face had turned red the minute she spoke, then the purple of rage.  He thrust his face into hers and said in perfect Ruralusian, “Cure?  No cure!  My people have been dying like common flies!”

Uh-oh.  She had obviously said something wrong.

Micki pushed aside her curiosity about his sudden and perfect understanding of Ruralusian to focus on what he was saying.

“We have been fighting this Virus for a year!” he yelled.  “We asked for aid from Ruralusia - you sent us only two doctors.  Two!”

This didn’t help to clear things up for Micki.  Two healers had been sent to every border country.  It was all Ruralusia could spare.   “But--”

“Two!” repeated Feston, snarling now.  “Out of how many people in your country?  Why should we give you any help when your Queen saw fit not to help us at all?”  The way he’d said ‘Queen,’ he thought it was a dirty word.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have very many healers,” Micki said.  “We helped as much as we could.”

“It wasn’t enough!” Feston roared.

Wow, this man could get angry fast.  Queen Madge had often told Micki that she must always be polite, and above all, not get angry if she ever wanted to be a good ruler.  King Feston must not be very worried about being a good ruler to have such a short temper.

Someone who’d been stuck to the edge of the large room suddenly darted forward to tug on the King’s sleeve.  This person wore a dress a lot like Micki’s.  According to her attire, Micki assumed she was a girl.  “Father, listen to --”

         Feston shook her off, speaking to Micki.  “What kind of --?”

        Another figure darted out wearing another dress, practically identical to the first child.  They looked so alike, Micki wondered if they were twins  This person also tugged on the King’s

sleeve.  “Father, remember you’re not supposed to get angry.  Doctor Huber said your blood --”

        “I don’t have time to care about a little blood problem!” Feston shouted and shook the girl’s hand away.  “I have a border problem instead!”

        A third girl darted out, also wearing a dress.  She looked enough like the other two that she could have been a twin to either one of them… or both of them.  “I think we should listen.  She’s a princess.  I like princesses.”

        A fourth person darted out, wearing pants, so Micki assumed this was a boy, though he looked just like the three girls.  His hair was even as long as theirs.  “Father, I --”

“Everybody, stop!” the King fiercely ordered.  He ignored his own children to glare instead at Micki and Al and Alice.  “Lock them in the tower for a month,” he abruptly decided.  “That will show their Queen a thing or two.”

        What?  Lock them up where?

        Micki didn’t have time to ask before guards grabbed her arms.

        “Wait!” Micki said, desperate now.  “We’re asking for help - say no if you want to, but don’t lock us up!”

        But King Feston looked like this was just what he wanted.  “Yes.  The tower will knock some sense into all you Ruralusians.”

        Now Alice had found her own voice.  “What?”   Guards seized her arms, pulling her hair in the process.  “Take your hands off me!”

        Two more grabbed at Al instead.

        Adept at evading guards, Micki shook them off and dropped to the floor in the same submissive attitude they’d been forced to take at the border.  “Wait!” she said, her voice ringing with authority.  “We come in peace!  We aren’t even armed!  We’re just children.  I thought Hammondy revered children.”

King Feston leaned over her to stare right into her eyes.  “We in Hammondy do revere children.  But not when The Virus rages throughout the country.  Hundreds are dying every day, and you want us to send you aid?  We’ll help you when you help us.  Till then, enjoy the Tower.”  He rose.  “Take them away,” he said to the guards, waving dismissively at them as if they all smelled bad.

        “But --!”

Energetically following the King’s orders, the guards dragged Micki out of the room behind Al and Alice.  She tried to stop them by planting her feet onto the floor, but they just dragged her down the hall anyway.

        They moved so fast, Micki had trouble catching her breath.  They rounded a corner, turned into a side corridor, went left, went twenty steps, went right, the right again, then thirty steps, then… Micki completely lost track of where they were in relation to the big room she had just been in, to the front door of the palace, to the border where they had entered the country, to everything.

        Next thing Micki knew, they were forced to climb up a twisting stone staircase.  It took only minutes of climbing to let her know that this Tower they were going to must be the highest place in the entire country.

After a long time, they came to a strong looking door made of wood.  One of the guards pulled the wooden door open.  The squeal of the hinges was loud in the unnatural quiet, cut only by gasps for air from the three prisoners and occasional grunts of effort to restrain them from the guards.  All three girls were thrust through the opening.  The door slammed shut.  A lock clicked into place, sealing them in.

A locked door meant a prison.  And that meant they were prisoners.  The phrase ‘Take them to the Tower’ had really meant ‘Take them to prison.’

        Micki gazed at the single circular room in the Tower.  Its stone walls were worn so smooth, she could barely tell where one stone ended and another began.  There were four beds with mattresses but no blankets or pillows.  Micki went to stare out the one window the room offered.  There was no glass in the window, and no shutter.  They were so high, she could see over the tops of the trees leading up to the palace.

She looked down the outside Tower wall.  It was also worn smooth without a ladder or even a foothold in sight.  “There’s no way down from here,” she said, just to break the silence.

Al came to stand beside Micki at the window.  “And somehow, I don’t think the guards will let us down the stairs any time soon.”  Her eyes met Micki’s.  “We’re stuck here.”

        So much for being heroes.