She was awake in bed for several minutes, staring at the clock, before it registered that it was morning and that she was almost an hour and a half late for school. She jumped up and scrambled to find a clean school uniform in her closet. Halfway down the stairs, she was intercepted by her mother.

“You’re staying home from school today.”

“Mom, I can’t. My attendance is important if I want to be Valedictorian.”

“I’ve already talked to your principal. It seems that a mission to space is a valid excuse for at least one day’s absence.”

“Mr. Fellows said that?”

“He did. Now, I want you to go back upstairs and take a hot bubble bath. After you are dressed, you can come down and join us for brunch. Your father has only just gotten up as well.”

Astrid did as her mother directed and enjoyed a long soak in the tub. Afterwards, she dressed in a pair of jeans and a comfortable top and joined her parents, who were already eating at the table in the breakfast room.

“What would you like to eat,” asked Chef Pierce, suddenly at her shoulder.

“I just realized I’m starving,” said Astrid. “How about a sandwich?”

“Right away.” The chef hurried back to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a thick roast beef sandwich.

“How are you feeling, Dad?” Astrid asked, before taking a bite.

“I’m just fine, sweetie, although I’m a little upset. Your Ariel has made my Quasar IV rocket program obsolete before its time.”

“I think we’ll still need the Quasar/Nova configuration for a while,” replied the girl inventor. “We’ll need it for cargo launches. Quasar IV also makes a good launch vehicle for deep space probes. But I think you need to get to work on Quasar V. We need a heavy lift vehicle.”

“I’m already at work on it,” said Dr. Maxxim, pointing to his temple. “Great minds think alike.”

“So, how long am I grounded for?” Astrid asked her mother.

Mrs. Maxxim looked at her husband, who shrugged.

“We’ve never had to ground you before,” she said, “but this is very serious. Leaving the Earth without permission has to warrant a severe punishment. I think one month is appropriate.”

“Oh,” said Astrid, her shoulders slumping.

“What’s the matter?” asked Dr. Maxxim.

“Well, the Sweetheart dance is February 8^th, and Denise wanted us to all go out and get new dresses. I guess I can’t, but it doesn’t matter, because I can’t go to the dance anyway.”

“You can still go to the dance,” said her father. “Today is January 8^th. The dance isn’t till a month from today, so your grounding will be over.”

“And you can still go out with your friends,” said her mother. “You’re not grounded from that. We’re not barbarians.”

“What exactly am I grounded from?” wondered Astrid.

“No flying,” said her mother.

“Oh, I’m literally grounded.”

“Well, except airplanes,” said her father. “Airplanes are fine.”

“So… I can’t go into space?” said Astrid. “For a month.”

“That’s right,” said Mrs. Maxxim.

“And let that be a lesson to you,” said Dr. Maxxim.

“Ariel spacecraft, this is Houston.” A new voice sounded from the radio speaker.

“Go ahead Houston,” Astrid said.

“Ariel, we have a message for you, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to ignore it.”

“What is the message?” wondered Astrid.

“Your mother says ‘turn around and come home’.”

“Well, I couldn’t really, even if I wanted to.”

“Ten-four on that, Ariel. We would however like to know your plan.”

“Plan,” said the girl inventor. “I knew I forgot something. Well, my intention is to rescue Nova 5, but I have to be honest. I don’t really have a plan.”

“Well, we have a few suggestions for you.”

“I thought you might,” said Astrid. “Can I ask who I’m speaking to?”

“This is Eric Foley.”

“I’m familiar with you, Eric. You were a mission commander to the ISS. I’m Astrid.”

“I’m familiar with you too, Astrid. So here are the possibilities. Number one: You can rendezvous with Nova and nudge her up into a sustainable orbit. The problem is we don’t know how much that will help. She appears to be badly damaged. Number two: You could rendezvous and latch onto Nova with your robot arm, towing her to the ISS. The problem with this one is it might be dangerous to both crews, since her current orbit is pretty steep. Finally, you can rendezvous and Nova’s crew can transfer in their suits to Ariel and abandon their ship. This sounds easy, but it’s not. It’s difficult to get around in space, even when it’s not an emergency situation.”

“Well, I’m going to be honest, Eric. Since right now, there’s just a big empty space where Ariel’s robot arm goes, we have to go with option three. Can you tell Nova’s crew to suit up? We’ll rendezvous in 116 minutes.”

“Relaying that information now,” he said. “Just so you know, that’s cutting it close. They’re dusting some atmosphere now. We estimate that they have a window of only 121 minutes.”

“That’s just craptastic,” said Williams.

Ariel shot through space essentially flying herself. Astrid ran through calculations, eventually deciding that she could accelerate enough to gain 19 minutes, without taking herself off course and without cutting into the fuel that she would need to make it home safely. Unlike the Nova capsules, which maneuvered through space with very little fuel and then just dropped back to earth, the space plane had to maneuver through the air and fly down to a runway landing. Pushing the throttle forward, she guided her creation across the sky. Carl Williams meanwhile gathered the emergency gear.

“Nova 5 on alert radar,” said Williams, back in his seat.

“Got it,” she replied. “I see her! There she is!”

Everyone was back in school for lunch, which was butternut squash soup, yellowfin tuna ribbons with avocado and spicy radish in a ginger marinade and hamachi sashimi with avocado, yuzu, and radish, alongside mushroom risotto with citrus foam. Dessert was peanut butter torte with caramel.

“I don’t think my fish is done,” said Austin.

“It’s supposed to be served rare,” said Christopher.

“Yeah, but mine’s still going like this.” Austin formed his lips into a fish mouth, opening and closing.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it,” offered Bud.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to eat it.”

Astrid was only paying half attention. She was busy sending an email memo on her phone. “Attention all Maxxim Employees. The correct name of the launch facility located on the Maxxim campus is the Maxxim Spaceport. Any official use of the term ‘Startopia’ is prohibited. Signed, Astrid Maxxim Co-Chairman of the Board, Maxxim Industries.”

“What are you doing?” asked Denise.

“Um, just texting.”

“Who are you texting? We’re all right here.”

“I’m texting my chief of design that his daughter is a nosy-Rosie.”

“Fine,” said Denise. “No need to be snappish.”

The rest of the day was pretty routine. Astrid rode home with her friends, who said goodbye and parted, one after another, until only she and Toby walked the last leg up the hill. When they were halfway home, Toby reached out and took her hand and held it until they said goodbye near the poplar trees where their yards touched.

Astrid’s mother wasn’t home all evening and of course her father was in space, so Astrid did her homework, which she was three weeks ahead on, and sat down to dinner by herself. Chef Pierce baked a fish pie; something Astrid had never tried before, though she had heard people in Britain ate them all the time. After an hour of TV and an hour playing her oboe, she climbed into bed and slipped into sleep.

An annoying sound woke Astrid from a deep slumber. It took her a minute to realize that it was her phone. Staggering across the room, she picked it up and pressed it to her face.

“Hello?”

“Astrid, have you seen the news?”

“Who is this?”

“I’m sorry. This is Tomiko Ikeda. Astrid, you’ve got to turn on channel 25.”

“Now?”

“Yes, right now. Channel 25.”

Astrid flipped on the all-news channel and tried to shake the cobwebs out of her eyes. There was a male news anchor in a grey suit talking to the screen.

“It is confirmed now. There is an emergency in space. Nova 5, the privately funded manned spacecraft of Maxxim Industries has experienced a catastrophic failure. The vehicle has lost all power, is in a decaying orbit, and is venting oxygen into space. Indications are that the ship was hit by an object, though whether that object was a meteoroid, a piece of space junk, or some type of space weapon is unknown at this time. Houston has confirmed that the three crewmembers, billionaire industrialist inventor Roger Maxxim and two veteran NASA astronauts are alive and in no immediate danger, but how long that will continue to be the case is unknown.”

The second day of the new year, Astrid, along with pilots Hugh Chase and Carl Williams, took her space plane for another test flight. This time they broke no records for altitude or speed. Instead they pushed Ariel through a series of complex maneuvers, carefully measuring the structural integrity of the craft. She came through with flying colors.

The girl inventor was still at the airfield when her Maxxim Carpé signaled she had a phone call.

“Hello,” she said, tapping the screen to pass the call from her phone to her wrist device.

“Hi Astrid,” Toby’s voice came through the speaker. “How did your test flight go?”

“She’s got it going like a turbo vet.”

“Did you just quote Sir Mix A Lot?” he asked.

Astrid laughed. “What can I say, the man’s a poet. Seriously, Ariel is 100%. I’m ready to declare her airworthy, but we’ve still got two tests planned.”

“That’s great,” said Toby. “Another Astrid Maxxim success. The reason I called was to see if you had plans for tomorrow night?”

“Not that I know of. What’s up? It’s not another party, is it? I’m just about partied out.”

“No. Not a party, but a date.”

“I’m listening,” said Astrid.

“They’re showing a Charlie Chaplin double-feature at the Main Street Cinema and I thought we could have dinner afterwards at The Great Wall.”

Astrid was so excited about her date, she decided to stop by the Main Street Dress Emporium and purchase something new to wear. She found a cute tunic dress with bright colors that she paired up with black leggings. She also bought a pair of black heels to go with the outfit. They weren’t particularly high, but since Astrid seldom wore heels, she practiced walking in them for about an hour.

The Cinema was located at the east end of Main Street. It was a small movie theater. Originally built in 1937 in a town in Kansas, it had closed down in the fifties, and had been scheduled for demolition, but was bought and moved to Maxxim City. This was the case with many buildings on Main Street, a feature of the town that made it seem to have far more history than it actually did. Because it had only had one screen and seats for only 122 movie viewers, the Main Street Cinema seldom showed the newest movies, and never anything with digital or surround sound. It was almost always the classics. But sodas were a dollar, candy fifty cents, and all-you-could-eat buttered popcorn was included in the price of your ticket. Toby and Astrid tried not to stuff themselves too much as they watched Chaplin tramp through The Kid and Modern Times.

“It’s amazing how well Charlie Chaplin films hold up,” said Astrid, as they walked hand-in-hand down the street to The Great Wall.

“I think a lot of the great old movies hold up,” said Toby, “if people will only give them a chance.”

The following morning was the launch of Maxxim’s Nova 4 unmanned spacecraft. There were far fewer high school kids there than there had been during the Nova 3 launch. Most were off visiting friends and family or Christmas shopping. In fact, as Astrid watched the rocket disappear among the clouds, she was reminded that she hadn’t done much in the way of Christmas shopping yet herself. Fortunately she knew just who she needed to help her.

The girl inventor flew to Phoenix, which was the closest major metropolitan area. She had to take a certified pilot with her, but it was another chance to add miles to her flight log. More importantly, Miss Scacchi went with her. They spent the day at the Biltmore Fashion Park and by that evening, Astrid had her Christmas shopping done.

One of the many stores in the mall was the Maxxim store, where in addition to several presents, Astrid purchased a Carpé Aviatrix for herself. The clerk who waited on her was so excited that Astrid worried he might wet himself. She was frankly surprised that he recognized her, until she saw a large picture on the wall of herself climbing out of a mini-sub in the waters near Hawaii. It was right next to an even larger picture of Gloria riding a hoverbike. After a quick dinner at an Italian restaurant, Astrid, her instructor pilot, and Miss Scacchi flew home.

The clock said 10:43 AM when Astrid finally climbed out of bed the morning of Christmas Eve. It was unusual for her to sleep so late. It was even more unusual for her to find both parents at home that late in the morning, even if it was the day before a holiday. Still in her pajamas, she plopped down at the table in the breakfast room as Chef Pierce placed a bowl of oatmeal and fruit in front of her. She was on her second bite before she realized that though both her parents were seated, neither was eating and they weren’t talking. Glancing at her mother, Astrid noticed that she was intentionally not looking at her father.

“All right, who’s in trouble?” asked the girl inventor. “It’s not me, is it?”

“No, it’s me,” said Dr. Maxxim. “I just informed your mother that when Nova 5 launches on January 7^th, it will be the first manned launch from the Maxxim Spaceport.”

“Can you get the launch facilities ready so quickly?” asked Astrid. “That’s a turn-around of less than four weeks.”

“I think so,” he replied. “It was up and running in less than five weeks between the last two launches. We’re just pushing it a little.”

“Stop beating around the bush,” snapped Mrs. Maxxim. “What your father neglected to mention is that he’s planning on being in that capsule.”

“It’s not a capsule,” he said. “It’s a spacecraft.”

“Stop it! You have no business going up into space!”

“I’ve gone through the training. I’m in good physical shape. In fact, with the exception of some less than perfect vision, I’m a perfect specimen. Besides which, space literally is my business.”

“Talk some sense into your father,” Astrid’s mother demanded.

“Can I come too, Dad? The Nova holds up to seven and I’ve already had a spacesuit custom made to fit.”

Mrs. Maxxim’s face went white, and then red.

The next morning, Astrid was back at Plymouth Road. The first part of the tour was the factory floor where huge robotic arms, overseen by workers wearing white lab coats and yellow safety goggles, were assembling Hoverbikes. These flying scooters were still the original models.

“We’re keeping the art-deco outside, but in here, it’s all twenty-first century,” said Carl Maxxim proudly.

“How many hoverbikes come out of here?” wondered Astrid, seeing a mountain of crates being loaded onto railroad flat cars.

“Right now we’re running two shifts, and we’re averaging about one hoverbike every twenty seconds.”

“Amazing,” said the girl inventor. “But November sales were 92,000.”

“That’s right. The Rochester plant is up and running and making up the difference. Between the two of them, they can conceivably produce more than 250,000 per month, if we go to 24-hour production. If we need more, we could build them at the Lansing plant. It will be ready to go by February, though right now, I think we’ll be producing our cars there.”

“We have twenty-six facilities, right?”

“Yes, but some of them are fairly small. The Indianapolis plant just produces glass and the Toronto plant was the car battery factory. And before you say anything, it’s already being converted to produce LED lights.”

“I’m pretty impressed so far,” said Astrid.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” said Uncle Carl. “It’s time to hit the Auto R&D department. Ready for a ride to Toledo?”

“I didn’t know we had a plant in Toledo.”

“It’s not a plant; just a property that through a long series of purchases, foreclosures, and mergers came to be owned by National. Now we own it.”

“Speaking of properties,” said Astrid, on the way to Uncle Carl’s limousine. “What about this neighborhood?”

“We purchased the parking lot across the street. We sign the papers next week. We’ll make it look nice. Our own lot needs some tender loving care too. We’re going to completely redo that park, and since the city can’t really afford to keep it up, we’ll do it. I’m trying to buy out all the houses for three blocks in any direction. That’s slow going. Some of the owners are trying to gouge us, not that I blame them. Property values have been plummeting and along comes a big corporation willing to buy them out. The ones we do get, we’ll fix them up and lease them to our employees, with an option to buy.”

“Uncle Carl, I’m sorry.”

“About what, sweetie?”

“I’m sorry I never realized what a capable manager you are,” said Astrid. “How do you juggle all of this?”

“Easy. I hire very good people and when they bring me a good idea, I say ‘yes’.”

The next day was less regimented, at least in the morning. That’s when Astrid realized that Miss Scacchi had gone a little overboard. Guests started showing up for a party. Eleven girls, all the within a year or two of Astrid’s age, arrived. Astrid couldn’t imagine how Miss Scacchi had come up with this particular list of girls. There were girls that she had always gotten along well with: Alicia Noble, Madison Laurel, and Joanie Blair. Then there were girls that she tried to have as little to do with as possible: Hannah Stark, Taylor Kirkpatrick, and Sierra Brightman. And there were girls she had hardly even ever spoken to: Diana Mills, Chloe Sergeant, Dot Collins, and Amelia Stark, who was back in town after having her appendix taken out. Finally there was her cousin Gloria. Astrid thought they had been getting on extremely well, considering. Why push it?

Miss Scacchi gathered everyone together in the foyer and then led them up the sweeping staircase to the third floor. She had transformed one of the large unused rooms into a vast game room. There was a pool table, two ping pong tables, and an air hockey table. Along one wall was a bank of classic coin operated arcade games. Along the other wall were small tables, each with two chairs, and set up with board games. The entire room was decorated with an Olympics theme. By the door, was a chart set up with progression ladders or score charts for each of the games.

The fifteen girls rotated around playing. Most of them were interested, though not overly enthusiastic, about the games. All that changed when Miss Scacchi rolled in a table filled with gold, silver, and bronze medals. Suddenly the competition grew fierce. They were playing so hard, they didn’t even notice they were hungry until Chef Pierce brought in a cart filled with snacks, including gold medal cookies, and torches made from sugar cones filled with buttered popcorn. By time for dinner, the girls were growing quite tired. Another nearby room had been arrayed with three folding banquet tables covered with the evening meal. Dinner consisted of gold-medal vegetable dip with crisp veggies, Olympic rings of pizza, Olympic rings of fruit pizza with a chocolate cookie crust, and a champion chocolate cake. When they were all stuffed, Miss Scacchi handed out 45 medals. Everyone got at least one. Astrid got gold in Ms. Pacman and Chess, a silver in Q-bert, and a bronze in air hockey. The medals turned out to be chocolate. Then they all watched Chariots of Fire. When vans arrived to take everyone home, the girls were exhausted but happy. And all of them proclaimed Astrid’s party a success.

“We should have had your party planner two months ago,” said Denise. “Compared to this, our birthday parties sucked.”

“Well Astrid,” asked Miss Scacchi. “What did you think?”

“It was the best party I didn’t even realize I was throwing.”

Between homework and dinnertime, Astrid made use of the new sitting room to discuss a few things with Miss Scacchi.

“I’d like to leave for Detroit on the 17^th if possible,” she said. “That way I can come home on the 21^st, in time to watch the Nova 4 launch and with plenty of time to finish my Christmas shopping.”

“Would you like me to arrange a first class ticket?”

“No, I’ll take a company plane. In fact, I think I’ll fly it. The guys have been bugging me to get my pilot’s license. This will give me enough hours and will count as a cross-country solo flight. I would really appreciate it if you could make sure that I have everything I need for the trip.”

“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“How about helping me set up a girl’s weekend with Denise, Valerie, and Valerie. I’d like to do something special next weekend—really fancy it up, with invitations and everything. I think I’ve been neglecting them lately, especially Denise.”

“Leave it to me, Astrid.”

“Um, one more thing. I need to get ahold of Governor Hardgrave and ask him to give me an age waver for a student pilot’s license.”

“I’ll call him right away,” said the assistant.

The first part of the week seemed to stretch on forever, as Astrid was looking forward to the first test flight of Ariel, her space plane. When the scheduled time arrived for the test, Thursday afternoon, she stepped out onto the tarmac of the Maxxim airfield in her flight suit. Just as she had told her friends weeks before, Astrid would not be piloting the craft, though she felt more than capable. Instead, two Maxxim test pilots Hugh Chase and Carl Williams would be at the controls. The girl inventor would be along for the ride though, as navigator and flight analyst.

As soon as the three of them climbed aboard and strapped themselves into their seats, Chase called the control tower for clearance. Once they received the go ahead, he ignited the engines. Ariel rumbled to life.

Thanksgiving had always been a fairly small family affair at the Maxxim household, so this year was quite a big departure. Uncle Carl, Aunt Lauren, and Gloria, joined them for the first time in Astrid’s life. Aunt Penelope arrived with them. The Bundersmiths were also in attendance. Toby and his father seemed natural enough, but it was the first time that Astrid had ever seen their Aunt Gerta anywhere that she wasn’t the primary cook. Finally, there were the Maxxim’s three new staff members, whom Dr. Maxxim made sure to invite. Of course Llywelya Pierce had to be there anyway, as she was cooking the meal.

Although it rarely got too cold in the American Southwest, the wind did whip up, making it slightly too cool to relax on the deck. Since the living room was currently out of order, Astrid’s mother had ordered some of the living room furniture moved to a sitting room, which was decorated for the feast, just off the formal dining room. Astrid couldn’t ever remember seeing the sitting room used, and she hadn’t even been in it since she was about eight. So, leaving it to the adults, she and Toby commandeered the family room and watched the parade on TV.

“What are you two doing?”

Astrid looked over her shoulder to see Gloria, followed by Penelope, entering the cozy room. They took seats on the recliner and couch.

“We’re watching the parade,” said Toby. “We’ve made a game of it. Every time anybody on TV says the word ‘balloon’ you have to jump up and shout ‘Huzzah!”

They watched a school group perform a dance routine to a Beyoncé song. Then the program’s hosts appeared sitting side by side on the screen. A small window popped up in the corner showing a partially deflated Peanuts character.

“Oh no!” exclaimed the female host. “Snoopy is caught up in the electrical wires.”

“Oh, you hate to see that happen,” said the male host. “This is the third straight year they’ve had problems with that balloon.”

“Huzzah!” shouted Penelope, jumping to her feet.

The other three stared at her and then burst out laughing.

“You three suck,” she said, sitting down with a pout. Then a moment later, “Who can we get next?”

“I don’t think either of my parents would jump up and shout, even if it wasn’t a joke,” said Gloria.

“Mine either,” said Astrid. “Well, maybe my dad.”

“My dad would probably fall for it,” said Toby. “I’ll go get him.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t play a trick on him like that,” said Penelope.

Gloria shot Astrid a knowing look. It was clear that she had figured out the same thing that Astrid had—Penelope was infatuated with Mr. Bundersmith.

“Huzzah!” said Astrid, jumping to her feet.

The others looked at her.

“They said ‘balloon,’ and it looked like fun when Penelope did it.”

Toby laughed and Gloria rolled her eyes. Soon they were all playing the game for real, and they had to jump up and shout six times as Underdog made his journey through Manhattan. By the time they were called to their meal, all four were exhausted.

Astrid was sad that she didn’t have any classes with Denise this year or with either Valerie, but they were all waiting for her at the lunch line. After a quick hello, they entered the queue and picked up their tray before heading to their regular table near the center of the quad. Lunch was chicken breast with white wine herb basting sauce, with garlic potatoes, sliced heirloom tomatoes, and green beans, and a raspberry white chocolate mousse for dessert.

“Yum, pudding,” said Austin, plopping himself down next to Astrid. “Or as we say in français, pudding.”

“The call it mousse in France,” said Denise. “And you know what? They call it that in America too.”

“It’s not my fault I don’t know about all this fancy food,” he said, as Toby and Christopher took their seats. “I’m just a poor orphan trying to make my way in a strange school. I’m like Harry Potter.”

“Austin is right,” said Astrid. “We don’t want to sound like food snobs.”

“Whatever you say, Hermione,” said Denise.