The sky over New York City was black and cloudless. Rubella shivered within her nylon coat, her wad of curly hair barely keeping her ears warm. As the minutes passed and the moon began to peek over the skyscrapers, she realized that her sister's mission would take up far more time than she expected. I could freeze to death here, she thought. That mob's giving off plenty of body heat, but how close can I get before the sphere sucks me in?

Her eyes wandered up and down the well-lit but mostly empty street. Restaurant signs, bar signs, and even theatre signs presented themselves to her view, but no taxis, buses, or even subway entrances. You'd have to be crazy to stand around in a place like this, she told herself. Crazy, or on patrol…

Her attention caught by a parked police car, she started to shuffle in its direction as chilly gusts swept through her hair. It became clear to her that a lone officer was sitting inside, most likely keeping an eye on the unruly masses. He's sure to help me, she thought. Policemen are always helpful.

Officer Gonzago was startled by the sound of knuckles rapping on the window of his squad car. He rolled it down to get a better view of the stranger's face, and was greeted by a long, pointed nose, a pair of pleading eyes, and lashes that hung heavy with mascara.

"Excuse me, sir," said Rubella sweetly. "I know this is an unusual request, but I'm really cold, and the inside of your car looks very warm. Is it all right if I slip inside for a minute or…"

"Sorry, lady," said the policeman brusquely. "I don't do business with the likes of you."

The window quickly closed, leaving the befuddled rat girl to seek warmth elsewhere.

In the meantime Prunella, hungry, thirsty, exhausted, but unable to disobey the commands Frink piped into her mind, reached the edge of the crowd and the beginning of the relatively empty space that led to the Hilton. The tableau was a grim one. The entrance doors had been barricaded with pieces of lobby furniture, behind which a number of ever-vigilant Thrag heads stood like lampposts. New Yorkers on every side debated how large a mass of humanity would be needed to storm and overwhelm the alien guards. And worst of all…

"Oh, my God!" Fern blurted out.

"It's horrible!" exclaimed Francine.

"Vomitrocious!" remarked Muffy.

And worst of all, the bodies of those slain by alien gunfire lay in heaps in the bushes, against the walls, and in the entrance to the valet parking garage.

The picture was in black and white, but the message came through in vivid color. "They…they shouldn't be dead," said Sue, her voice quivering. "They were regular people like you and me. They didn't want to hurt anybody. It was the sphere that made them attack the hotel!"

D.W. looked up at her older brother, tears forming in her eyes. "Why, Arthur?" she asked plaintively. "Why are the unicorns killing people?"

"I don't know," said Arthur firmly. "I just know that we're gonna stop them."

Muffy, her expression filled with angst, suddenly grabbed the pleats of Frink's smock. "Please, Dr. Frankenstein, don't make her go any further," she begged. "She's my friend, and I don't want her to be killed."

The scientist shot her a look of knowing concern, and turned his attention back to the transmitter he held. "Do exactly as I say, Prunella," he spoke into the microphone. "Raise your hands high above your head and walk slowly in the direction of the doors. If the aliens point their guns at you, stop, but keep your hands above your head."

Prunella, her hands elevated, took a step forward. The kids in the viewing audience held their collective breath. She took another step. The kids dared not move or breathe.

The Thrags stood still, their inscrutable, helmeted faces giving no indication whether they were looking at Prunella or away from her.

She was halfway up the concrete slope to the hotel doors, and the alien guards had yet to make a hostile move. They could shoot her down like a dog at any second, thought George. I don't know if I can watch.

"Please don't kill my friend," Muffy muttered to herself. "Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…"

She'd better not die, thought Frink. If she dies, I'll have to resort to weapons of mass disintegration.

Less than two feet remained between Prunella and the nearest upraised couch, when a Thrag suddenly poked its long arm through a crack in the barricade, the muzzle of its weapon parallel with her nose. So quick and agile was its movement that the kids' hearts started to beat faster before they even realized what they had seen.

"State your intent!" barked the Thrag in a low, resonating voice.

Frink wasted no time in bringing the microphone up to his mouth. "Please let me come inside," were the words he spoke.

"My daddy's in there," Prunella told the armed alien.

Without lowering its weapon arm, the Thrag communicated in quiet murmurs with its neighbor, their helmets vibrating as the lights of the city bounced off them. Finally, much to the relief of Frink and the children, the guards opened up a breach wide enough for Prunella to pass.

The rat girl marched dutifully into the hotel, a Thrag flanking her on each side. "She made it," said Fern with joy. "She's inside."

"From here on it's easy," Frink assured his young companions. "The unicorns want to maintain a peaceable façade, so they won't attack her. All that's left is to locate the sphere, and employ the element of surprise."

Watched at every moment by a stiffly moving Thrag, Prunella searched room after room of the hotel, all the while calling out, "Daddy? Are you in there?"

The helmeted alien, apparently losing patience, rested a gloved hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's a big hotel," it uttered. "It'll take you a long time to find him this way. Do you know where he was last?"

Alan grinned smugly at his friends. "What'd I tell you? They're just like Earth cops."

"I think he's with the unicorns," said Frink into his device's receiver.

"I think he's with the unicorns," Prunella repeated.

"I'll check with them," the Thrag offered. "Follow me."

Through the long corridors of the Hilton strolled Prunella and the kindly alien. One of the conference room entrances was guarded by another Thrag, who politely stood aside to allow them passage. The moment Prunella stepped into the spacious chamber, the microchip in her brain sent a moving image to her friends of a multitude of unicorns, more than forty in all, as well as a nearly equal number of laser-toting aliens.

One of the unicorns, a male with smears of blood underneath his nose, approached the pair. "Who is this?" he inquired, apparently taken with the small visitor.

"She claims her father is here with you," the Thrag reported.

"I…don't see how that's possible," said the unicorn. "The only human in our midst is a woman—the reporter who struck me."

Arthur gestured at the TV screen. "That's him," he said with certainty. "That's Greta's dad."

"He must have the sphere," said Francine.

Arlos von Horstein, his expression free of malice, gently patted Prunella's scalp. "You're a lovely girl," he gushed. "I don't know why you chose to come to such a dangerous place."

"I'm looking for my daddy," said Prunella innocently.

"Interesting," said the unicorn man. "I hope your daddy isn't out there in the mob, with all the other people who want to hurt us unicorns."

"No," said Prunella, shaking her head vigorously. "My daddy would never harm a unicorn. He loves unicorns. I love unicorns."

"You do?" said Arlos, taken aback. "But how…"

As he struggled for words, Prunella leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the robed unicorn's waist and smiling blissfully. Arlos put up little resistance as she clutched one section of his vestments after another, looking for…

…found it!

The round bulge underneath his robe was her target. Moving quickly, she yanked the blue cloth aside and inserted her arm into the deep inner pocket. Her fingers latched onto the object at the bottom, a ball with a smooth, cool surface. Such was the force with which she pulled it out that she lost her balance and tipped over backwards.

As she landed back first, the sphere slipped out of her hand and rolled away.

"Prunella!" Frink shouted frantically into the microphone. "Get the sphere! Destroy it!"

The rat girl rolled over and started to push herself up, only to feel strong hands lifting her into a standing position. As she impulsively wriggled and squirmed to break free, her eyes, and the eyes of everyone in her living room, caught sight of a smirking unicorn with a glowing green ball resting in his palm.

"Looking for this, perhaps?" Arlos gloated.

To be continued