Space Cadets

Getting space-sick was the only undignified trait Eliza’s otherwise perfect sisters possessed. She tried to ignore them and focus on her book as Bianca and Jocelyn frantically searched through their mountain of luggage for their nausea pills. Eliza’s stomach was apparently made of cast iron and she never got woozy during space travel. They were about to take off and her sisters needed to take their pills before launch or they’d throw up rather spectacularly and showing up to any event flushed and smelling of vomit was, for them, the worst possible thing that could ever happen.

Eliza doubted it would matter, Bianca and Jocelyn could likely throw up on a foreign dignitary or celebrity and they’d apologize for being in the line of fire. That was just the effect her sisters had on people. Bianca let out a cry of triumph and brandished her bottle of space-sickness meds in the air. She hurriedly took one and then re-fluffed her butter blonde curls, which had gotten disheveled in her mad search. Jocelyn snatched the bottle from her and gulped it down, somehow managing not to smudge her lipstick in the slightest. They were barely two years apart and looked almost like twins with their golden hair, long legs, and smiles that never looked faked. People often looked surprised upon learning that Eliza was the third Rothchild daughter. She had none of her sister’s height or social graces, and her hair was a coppery red. Since that feature had come from her mom, it was the thing that marked her as a Rothchild.

The shuttle engine tumbled to life and the pilot announced that they were preparing to launch. Everyone strapped in with their takeoff safety belts as the ship took off at breathtaking speed and cleared the atmosphere. Once they were on their way, Eliza shed her safety belt and made her way to the onboard library to get a better view. Despite her general dislike of fancy social functions, Eliza was glad her father had brought the whole family along for this. He served as an Ambassador for the Intergalactic Union and had built a good rapport with the royal family of the Zenix Galaxy. The queen was about to celebrate her fiftieth year on the throne and so had invited his family to come for the celebration.

Eliza was so thrilled about going that she almost forget to be annoyed that she had to attend a couple of fancy dinners and go to the official, invitation-only celebration ball. Still, festivities would be going on for the entire month and there would be a lot to do and explore on Zenia, the capital planet. Eliza planned to spend all her free time outside the palace. The benefit of being virtually invisible with her sisters around was that Eliza could leave the schmoozing to them and find ways to entertain herself.

Stars and planets whizzed by outside the library window as they hurtled through space at top speed. After two and half days of travel she could see the veritable rainbow of planets that made up the Zenix Galaxy. Everything here was colorful, except for the large, silvery planet in the distance. Zenia was covered in white stones and white sand beaches and Eliza practically smooshed her face against every window she passed to look out in awe.

“Eliza, we’ll be arriving soon. Aren’t you going to change?”

Eliza smothered a sigh and pried herself away from the window to look at her father. He was checking messages on his comm-screen.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Eliza asked. Marcellus Rothchild lifted his gaze and arched an eyebrow at her.

“You know your mother packed something for you to wear for your first meeting with Queen Korinne and her family. She had it made special just for the occasion.”

“It has puffy sleeves.”

“Pardon?”

“Puffy sleeves, Dad. Please don’t make me wear it.”

“Your mother had it made,” he said firmly. “Now scoot, we’re landing in less than an hour.”

He returned to his comm-screen and Eliza dejectedly returned to her room. The dress in question was hanging in her closet, a lacy mint green affair with gargantuan puffed shoulders. It made Eliza look like a green marshmallow. Deciding even she couldn’t avoid detection in this ridiculous dress, she impulsively took a pair of scissors to the sleeves, de-puffing them and just leaving her shoulders bare. She trimmed off some excess frilly lace from the skirt as well, using a scrap of it to tie her hair back. She would never choose the color in a million years but it was bearable this way. Gabriella loved pastel greens and always tried to make her one red-haired daughter wear them.

She made her way to the main deck and strapped in again as they descended onto the surface of Zenia and landed with a gentle lurch. Bianca, Jocelyn, and Gabriella all looked radiant in an assortment of blue and green silks and jewel-bedecked curls. Eliza’s hair didn’t curl naturally and she was usually too impatient to curl it herself, hence the lace. Gabriella finally noticed that Eliza had cut up her dress as they rose and her eyes went comically wide.

“Did you cut your sleeves?” she cried.

“Mom, I’m twenty years old, not twelve. I don’t want things with puffy sleeves. Bianca and Jocelyn don’t have to wear puffy sleeves.”

“I thought it looked cute.” Gabriella frowned. Eliza tried not to twitch. Her mother meant well but she didn’t know what to do with a daughter that wasn’t invested in fashion and glamour the way that she was. Eliza always paled in comparison to her sisters and mom anyway, so she’d given up trying to be glamorous.

“We’re going to be late,” she said, changing the subject. The ship’s door opened and they filed out, announced by the queen’s Chamberlain. There were some cheers and Eliza realized there was a much bigger crowd there to greet them than she had expected. She was eager to get the pleasantries over with and escape but she did her best to smile politely and not trip on her way down the steps.

Some Zenian guards were waiting to greet them and escort them to the Grand Courtyard, where the queen would be receiving them. They quite openly snuck glances at Bianca and Jocelyn. They began to move toward the grand, shimmering white palace in a clustered group. The security detail that always accompanied her father flanked them while the Zenian guard led the way. Eliza wanted to look at everything at once but forced her head to stay still. If she didn’t do anything to embarrass her parents, she could get out of there faster.

They were just leaving the royal landing bay when the conversation was cut short by a high pitched whine. Bianca barely had time to ask what the noise was when the ground erupted beneath their feet and everyone was thrown in every direction like broken dolls. Eliza had the wind knocked out of her as she went sprawling on her back.

Her ears were ringing slightly as she dazedly tried to sit up. Her forehead felt sticky and she realized she’d gotten a cut and blood was trickling down her face. Guards were on their feet and everyone was yelling. Eliza had been toward the back of the group and had been knocked in a different direction than her family. Unsurprisingly, everyone had rushed to check on them while Eliza just lay in a pale green heap of fabric next to the ship.

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Eliza muttered to herself. “Thanks for your concern.” She struggled to her feet, wiping blood off her face. At least nothing appeared to be broken. The guards were helping her parents and sisters toward the palace and Eliza was forced to scurry after them. Finally her father noticed her lagging outside the protective ring of security.

“Eliza, you’re hurt.”

“It’s just a head injury,” Eliza said dryly. She was a little stung about being left behind.

“You need to see a medic for that,” Gabriella said, looking shaken.

“It’s really not that bad-“

“We’ll take you all to see a medic,” one of the Zenian guards said. “The queen will want to make sure her guests are all right.”

“It’s really just a scratch,” Eliza said but no one was listening to her. She was whisked away on a small tide of people and an Android doctor patched up the cut on her forehead. No one had sustained anything much worse than some scrapes and bruises; one guy had a sprained wrist from landing awkwardly.

The door flew open and none other than Queen Korinne came hustling inside the medic wing.

“Marcellus, are you all right? Is anyone in your family hurt?”

“Just some scrapes, Your Highness.”

“This is an absolute outrage and I assure you we will get to the bottom of it,” Korinne said. She looked shockingly young for someone nearly seventy, and was very spry in her heavy satin gown. One of the reasons the galaxy was so prosperous is because they had an abundance of minerals and plants that kept you looking youthful; Eliza’s family used the ridiculously expensive creams and serums every day. Once she was assured that no one was seriously hurt, Marcellus began introductions and Eliza was startled to find that the queen was a hugger.

Eliza curtsied and introduced herself when it was her turn, murmuring a demure, “it’s very nice to meet you, Your Majesty,” before being pulled into a warm hug and enveloped in a cloud of soft floral perfume. Zenia exported a lot of those too.

“Such a lovely family you have, Marcellus. I’m truly horrified at this turn of events. I can’t imagine who would want to hurt you.”

“Maybe it was some kind of accident?” Gabriella suggested.

“Whatever it was, I don’t want to take chances with our safety,” Marcellus said. “I want a guard accompanying all of you, always.”

Eliza almost choked. “Doesn’t that seem excessive?”

“Someone may have tried to kill my family today, there is no such thing as excessive safety precautions.”

Eliza disagreed. The idea of one of the guards tailing her everywhere sounded like a nightmare. She wanted to protest more but her father was already summoning over the head of his security, asking him to designate a personal guard to Gabriella and each of the girls. In the meantime, they were escorted to their rooms; at least Eliza had one to herself; and the queen insisted they rest up and then join her for dinner in between her profuse apologies. She also sent some of her own guard to collect their bags, which had all been dropped in the explosion.

Eliza caught her dad’s sleeve after she was dropped off at her room. “Dad, please, don’t give me a guard? No one is going to be trying to murder me. I blend into the background, no one will even notice-“

“This isn’t up for debate, Eliza. I want you girls to be safe, so you will all be accompanied everywhere with a guard. They’ll be here in time to bring you all down to dinner with the queen.”

“But-“

“Eliza.” His voice grew stern and she knew it was no use arguing. She closed the door and sat on her bed, fuming. She didn’t want a guard, and she already knew whoever was assigned to her wouldn’t want to be her guard either. She huffed and punched one of the soft, puffy pillows. A maid servant dropped off the few bags Eliza had brought and politely reminded her that dinner was in an hour. She even offered Eliza a new dress to replace the one that was now stained with blood and dirt.

“A gift from the queen,” the girl said, bobbing a little curtsy. “Would you like my assistance putting it on, Miss Rothchild?”

“No, thank you.”

Eliza shimmied out of the green dress and tossed it on the floor, kicking it for good measure. The dress from the queen was a gauzy white thing that thankfully lacked puffy sleeves. She yanked a brush through her hair so hard she winced. Then she saw a mulish look appear on her reflection. Fine, so her father was paranoid. She wasn’t going to let that ruin her time completely. She had a long list of things she wanted to do while she was here, and she could probably lose her unwanted guard easily outside the palace walls. Eliza sat on her bed and glared at the door, waiting for her glorified babysitter to come fetch her.