ones, didn’t really do justice to the aliens’ massive, three-meter-long physical presence. It was like being inside a zoo enclosure with a hippopotamus, not that a High One looked anything like a mammal—or even an insect, for that matter. Its closest Earthly analogue was a sea creature called a crown of thorns starfish, an echinoderm that feasted on corals in Australia’s Great Barrier Reef by first throwing up on them and dissolving the poor corals in its stomach acid. Like them, the High Ones were radially symmetrical and had many more arms than the familiar five-armed starfish, but Earth’s alien overlords were more discreet in their dining habits, and their spines weren’t venomous like those of the crown of thorns. That was a good thing because the High Ones used their spines like little tentacles for grabbing food, starship controls, and people’s hands when it wanted to shake them, as it was now doing to Arnold’s.
“Sub-Baron Shhhh-iblius at your service. How are you, son? First time in space?” it asked. Its voice synthesizer made it sound like Arnold’s math teacher, Mr. Podolski. Arnold started to relax a little—he liked Mr. Podolski—though he couldn’t help thinking that the High One looked way less human than the starfish Sammy on the cartoon “Curly-Coral Swim-Trunks,” a show SCOD had banned as “probably offensive to the High Ones.”
Offending this creature was the last thing on Arnold’s mind, even if he did have a Sammy action figure hidden at the bottom of his underwear drawer at home. The High One was so pretty, for one thing, covered with overlapping aquamarine scales that were pleasantly cool to the touch and useful for discreetly hiding the water-bottles they needed while moving about on dry land, like a human deep-sea diver’s air tanks. Its ivory-colored spines and tentacles were as warm as a person’s hand.
Arnold bent his trembling head. “My n-name is Master Arnold Grossbard. I am hon-honored t-to meet you, s-sir,” he stammered, hoping he was remembering his Imperial Etiquette right. They taught it to you from the moment you started kindergarten, but it was so easy to mess up! “I’m d-d-doing j-just f-f-fine, s-sir. S-so c-cool to be in sp-sp-space!”
“My name is Mrs. Rachel Grossbard, and I am deeply honored to meet you, sir,” Mom murmured, taking another of the creature’s spines.
How could I have forgotten the “deeply”? Arnold thought. He’s almost a baron! I just had that on a quiz. Stupid, stupid! Maybe he’ll forgive me…
“He’s so looking forward to a tour of Bradbury Colony,” Mom was saying. “I haven’t been back myself since my honeymoon ten years ago.”
“Then you’re in for a real treat,” the High One informed her. “It’s almost twice as big as it was back then, but of course the real difference is that there’s no dome anymore, not since we got the atmosphere up almost to mountaintop pressure. It was a great achievement for Subduke F’ssss-terponicus. He’s in high favor at court at the moment.”
Struggling to get his stammer under control, Arnold said, “I’m really looking forward to seeing the t-two moons, sir. Phobos and D-deimos.”
“Fear and panic, eh? You humans certainly are a timid lot, to be scared by a couple of little asteroids,” the Arch-baron chuckled. “Though I suppose if we were to toss one of them at your world, it would cause an extinction-level event, wouldn’t it?”
Mom let out a high-pitched squeal that sounded nothing like her real laugh, a deep-throated guffaw. “You do soooooo deeply honor us with your humor, Your Excellency!”
“Indeed. Now, young Arnold, since this is your first time traveling from your developing world, I have a little present for you.” A spine reached into a pocket tucked between two scales and pulled out a glittering egg-shaped bauble about a centimeter long.
“A Homeworld amulet! Gee, thanks, deeply honored sir!” His gratitude was genuine, though it burned him to remember that now. Especially because some seventh graders had beaten him up and stolen the amulet, along with the silver necklace Mom had had it mounted on, barely a week after he got back to school from his Mars trip. People would kill for things from Homeworld. But Jo and her mother seemed no more than casually curious about Earth’s overlords. How could that be, when they’d volunteered to help him fight them? He had to broach the subject with them somehow. Maybe it’s a test—they want to see if I’m brave enough to say how I really feel about the High Ones.
Arnold put his empty tea cup down carefully in its saucer. “Mrs. Purnell, thank you very much for having me over,” he said. “But I think we all know Gloria didn’t bring me all the way here just to have tea.” He felt great saying that, so important and grown-up, having heard somebody say something just like it on a tri-vee spy show.
“No? But I make very good tea,” Mrs. Purnell said.
Jo nodded vigorously. “The best. Even I have to admit it.”
“No,” Arnold said, and then in a rush, “I hate the High Ones, I really hate them! I know Gloria brought me here to meet you so you can help me fight them, right?”
Mrs. Purnell raised an eyebrow at Jo, who explained, “They’re the aliens who took over the Earth—Arnold and Alison’s Earth, that is. I told you about them, Mum. They look like blue slugs, right, Arnold?”
“Worse. They look like giant, armored, blue starfish with tentacles.”
“It’s just like in Herbert Wells’s book, The War Between the Worlds!” Jo exclaimed, her eyes gleaming.
“You know I do not approve of scientification,” Mrs. Purnell said, frowning.
“You mean science fiction? But you’re friends with a telepathic dragon,” Arnold said.
“That is just normal, everyday reality.”
“And Gloria?”
“She saved our lives, so of course I am fond of her. But she never asked us to help you fight the aliens ruling your world,” Mrs. Purnell said. She frowned and pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Arnold, I know what it is like to grow up under foreign occupation. Trust me when I say you do not want to get involved in the ‘resistance.’”
“Mum grew up in Liverpool, before England rebelled against l’Empire,” Jo explained, pronouncing the word French-style: lump-ear. “But you were thrilled when that happened, Mum! You jitterbugged with Dad around the parlor.”
Mrs. Purnell colored slightly. “Yes, of course I was happy that Anglatare was free. We shall go there soon to visit, Jodie, I promise. But when I think of the danger Tom and Teresa put themselves in, sneaking over there just before the Revolution broke out, it makes me sick. If Tom were not eighteen years old, I should confine him to his room until Judgment Day.”
Arnold smiled to himself. Some things were the same in all worlds.
“Mum’s not telling you the whole story. My dopey big brother actually helped to start the Anglay Revolution!” Jo said. “Of course, Teresa was even more important, and her double Palermo Teresa was the most important of all!”
“I do not like that girl. She is trouble,” Mrs. Purnell said, her brows knitted.
“I’m sorry, who is Palermo Teresa?” Arnold said.
“Oh, she is wizard!” Jo said, clapping her hands. “She’s the double of Tom’s Teresa, except instead of being from boring old Philadelphia, she’s from Sicily, and she’s tough as nails and hates the Frogs—l’Empire—and any kind of royalty! Which is only common sense, just like good old Tom Paine called for.”
“Common sense, indeed! She is as dangerous a radical as he was. I cannot understand why the Crown let her into British territory,” Mrs. Purnell said.
“That must be why Gloria brought you here!” Jo exclaimed, seizing Arnold’s hand. Her hands were warm and soft, except for calluses on the fingertips. Holding them made Arnold’s guts feel mushy and warm. She said, “Mum, don’t you think there must be some reason that Gloria introduced us?”
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Purnell said, “it is simply that you and