by Matt London
Rick reached out for his friend. “Sprout! NOOO!”
But the resourceful boy stretched out his hands and grabbed hold of a windowsill on Spire Two. He hung precariously, but safe. “Go!” he urged. “Stop that giraffe! I’ll get everyone to safety.”
Leaving Sprout behind, Rick zoomed up the glide wire, keeping the destructive robot giraffe in his vision. The neck seemed to go on forever, towering higher than many buildings. At last he came even with the head. The eyes of the beast were a trapezoidal viewscreen. He peered inside the bridge, assessing what he would have to do to stop the destruction.
He saw his sister staring back at him.
No. No! This wasn’t possible. What was Evie doing on Vesuvia’s wrecking machine? He swung around on the glide wire and landed on the head of the giraffe. Rick clung to the plastic roof as the head swung from side to side on the long neck, flinging the wrecking ball into the side of Spire Two.
He twisted open an access hatch and dropped down into the bridge. A pink robot sheep was moving the controls with its mouth. Evie stood nearby. She backed away from Rick when she saw him. “Get out of here, Rick! Leave me alone.”
“What are you doing?” He raced past her. “Move out of the way!”
He tried to pull the sheep away from the levers, but the robot bucked him off and yanked at the controls. The wrecking ball tore through Spire Two. The giant tree shuddered and began to fall. Rick surged up and charged into the sheep with all his strength. The robot tumbled across the deck of the bridge, bleating grumpily.
Then Rick turned on Evie and grabbed her. “What have you done? That’s our home!”
She shoved him hard with both hands, knocking him to the ground. “Your home. Not mine. If only you’d listened to me, Rick. If only you cared about what I wanted, just once, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” She stood tall and angry, framed in front of the viewscreen. Beyond, Rick could see Spire Two collapsing, along with all his dreams.
“I hate you!” Rick roared, lunging at Evie. She raised her arms to defend herself, and her fist clipped him in the jaw. He bit his tongue, tasted blood, and dropped to his knees.
She watched him for a moment. “I know you hate me. Maybe that will help you to understand.”
Rick grabbed her, even though it was too late to save his arcologies. They grappled and fell to the ground. Rick rolled over, gaining the upper hand. “Mom and Dad have been totally freaked! They won’t do anything but fly around looking for you. We’ve all been worried sick. We didn’t know where you were!”
Vesuvia dropped through the ceiling hatch, still strapped into her flowercopter. Where was Sprout? Fearful, Rick stood. Vesuvia raised a remote and pointed it at the control console.
The viewscreen turned bright red, and a voice boomed over a loudspeaker. “This giraffe will self-destruct in thirty seconds.”
The pink sheep baahed a sound of hurt betrayal as it lay on the floor.
“Come on, Evie!” Vesuvia grabbed her and held her tight. The propellers spun, and they shot up through the hatch in the ceiling. There was no way for Rick to reach the hatch. In a panic, he looked for an exit.
“Twenty . . . nineteen . . . eighteen . . .”
He bolted to the back of the bridge and opened the doors. He raced through an empty hall and down a long spiral staircase, which he assumed was inside the neck of the giraffe.
“Twelve . . . eleven . . . ten . . .”
He was going to make it. He landed at the bottom of the stairs and emerged in the main storage hold. He ducked into another stairwell, down one of the giraffe’s legs. The entire machine shook violently as explosives armed and the power generator overloaded.
“Six . . . five . . .”
He reached the bottom floor. He could see the escape hatch at the far end of the room. It was open. He could see daylight. He ran.
“Three . . . two . . . one.”
Explosions ripped the walker apart as Rick dove for the exit. He was so close. Behind him he felt tremendous heat. He didn’t dare look.
Rick reached out his hand. He was almost there.
And then the fireball overtook him, and he remembered nothing more.
Evie threw up three times on the trip back to New Miami. And the cause hadn’t been the mostly pink diet she’d been ingesting under Vesuvia’s hospitality. She had made a huge mistake. She had betrayed her family, the people she loved most.
Vesuvia hummed cheerfully as they rendezvoused with the big flowercopter and boarded the vessel. They raced across the continent.
“You’re not so bad, Evie,” Vesuvia admitted with an earnest smile as they neared the pastel seaside town of New Miami. Not so bad? Evie ached to think about all the people she could have hurt when they attacked her family’s settlement. Those buildings had collapsed! Was anyone trapped? Had anyone died? If she could take it all back, she would in a heartbeat. Half a heartbeat. But that’s the nasty thing about mistakes. They’re easy to make and impossible to undo.
They entered the Mastercorp dreadnought to return the weapons they had borrowed. Vesuvia chatted animatedly, but Evie remained dour. As they reached the flat staging area just past the docks, Viola Piffle greeted them.
“Mom, you won’t believe what happened!” Vesuvia skipped over to her mother, grinning. “We smashed the Lane settlement good. No certificate of occupancy for them. We did it!”
“I know. I’ve been monitoring your progress.” She glanced at the squad of guards flanking her. “The certificate will be a valuable asset as we move forward with our plans.”
Vesuvia pointed at Evie, who stood timidly nearby. “This one was a valuable asset herself. Wow! You should have seen how much she helped.”
Viola folded her arms. “You were right about her, Vesuvia. She could be persuaded willingly.”
“I’m always right about everything,” Vesuvia said matter-of-factly.
Her mother ignored her. “Now that the Lanes are out of the picture, we can proceed to the next phase of our plan.”
“Massive expansion! New Miami will be the biggest city on all eight continents!”
“All will be explained in time,” Vesuvia’s mother said. Her steely gaze turned on Evie, who immediately felt short of breath. “As for this one, throw her back in her cell for now. We’ll come up with a way to dispose of her eventually.”
“WHAT!?” Evie screamed.
“Mom, what are you talking about? She’s helping us. She’s on our side.”
“She betrayed her family,” Viola explained simply. “She can’t be trusted. Good job conning her, Vesuvia. But you can drop the act now.”
Vesuvia looked shocked. Evie felt the panic build up. She backed away and took off running, but Viola’s guards gave chase and quickly caught her. They lifted Evie into the air as she screamed and punched the Mastercorp goons.
“Evie, wait!” Vesuvia called out.
Evie couldn’t believe she had trusted this rat. What had she been thinking? She screamed curses as the guards pulled her away, back to her cold, empty prison cell.
Winterpole was having a party. In the freshly drilled caverns under the surface of the eighth continent, agents stood in tight circles, conversing in subdued voices. Occasionally, other agents would walk by and hush anyone who spoke above a certain volume or who tried to conduct two conversations at the same time.
“Let’s not get out of hand,” the quiet patrol agents would suggest.
Diana had been finishing up some paperwork, approving the arrival of several thousand ice blocks that would be used to make igloos on the surface for overflow housing. She didn’t even know that a party had been announced, or what the special occasion was. When she arrived, several agents eagerly (but not too eagerly) shook her hand.
“Congratulations, Diana.”
“Junior Agent Maple, job well done.”
Diana
pulled away from them. “Thanks . . . I guess.” She had no idea what they were congratulating her for, and, knowing Winterpole’s bizarre definitions of success and progress, she was afraid to find out.
But with Winterpole being so stiff and rule-abiding all the time, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been to a party, so she skirted over to the buffet table to enjoy the rare privilege. She surveyed the spread. There were several trays of white bread cut into half-inch slices. Next to them was a communal salad bowl with nothing but iceberg lettuce and a few slivers of white onion. Lastly, a bartender.
“Isn’t this a cool party?” The bartender flashed Diana a thin-lipped smile. “Would you like some carbonated water?”
“Do you have any sodas, or juice?”
“What?!” The bartender leaned back, aghast. “You are out of control, young lady. Water with bubbles is enough of an extravagance as it is.”
“Okay.” Diana frowned. “Just carbonated water, then. With ice.”
“That I can do.” The bartender plunked two ice cubes into a cup. Diana drank and moved on.
The party was being held in one of the bigger caverns in the Winterpole complex. Diana shivered. The agency pumped refrigerated air into the already drafty tunnels, making the base feel just like home.
As Diana reached the far side of the room, she stopped short. A circle of agents had gathered around a portable slide projector, which displayed a bunch of images of destruction—what looked like a forest hit by a hurricane.
“Wow, they really got walloped,” one of the agents whispered.
Diana looked closer. “Wait . . . is that . . . ?”
“It sure is.” Benjamin Nagg appeared behind her. He studied the images, a devilish smirk on his face. “The Lane settlement got smashed to bits. Snow and I were going to head down there and do our inspection, but when our surveillance drones brought back these pictures, we knew there was no point. Auto-fail!”
“Auto-fail? What does that mean?” Diana wrinkled her nose in disgust when Benjamin glared at her with his beady eyes.
“It means the Lanes will never be able to bring people to the eighth continent. No certificate of occupancy for them. And smooth sailing for us.”
“Oh . . .” Diana said quietly. “I see.”
“You don’t look happy, Diana. Hmm . . . I wonder why you’re not thrilled by our success.”
“I’m ecstatic.” Diana held up her cup. “See? I’m even drinking carbonated water.”
This seemed to satisfy Benjamin. He turned away. Diana held her chest. She was having trouble breathing. The whole settlement had been leveled, and after all the concern Winterpole had expressed in the past several days, as the Lanes’ big buildings sprung up from the ground. Everyone thought they were going to pass inspection and acquire the certificate. She’d been in daily brainstorm meetings to come up with ways to stop them.
What most worried her was that she couldn’t see Rick—or any people—in the photographs. She hoped he was safe.
At the front of the room, Mister Snow waved his arms to get everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just gotten off the phone with the Director, and he is very pleased with our progress constructing this base. More agents are on their way, and new recruits are coming soon. Winterpole has declared that Winterpole qualifies for its own certificate of occupancy, and all construction projects are on schedule. Good work, everyone. Very fine work.”
His speech was met with tepid applause. Diana clapped so she wouldn’t arouse suspicion, but on the inside her head was spinning. She had to get to the Lane settlement and make sure Rick and his family were okay.
“Junior Agent Maple?”
Diana jumped in surprise. Mister Snow was standing right in front of her, with Benjamin at his side. “Yes, Mister Snow?”
“Job well done on the Lane problem. I’m very proud of you and Benjamin. I’m more proud of Benjamin, of course, but I recognize your contributions as well.”
At that moment, Benjamin’s face looked very punchable. Diana bit her lip so she wouldn’t groan, uppercut him, or roll her eyes. “Thank you, sir.”
“I have a special task for you both. It is more important than this celebration, so finish your extravagant beverages and follow me down to the vault.”
The cave system ran deep into the continent. As the trio traveled down, the sounds of far-off drilling echoed in their ears. Winterpole was already expanding the complex.
In the lower caverns was the water system. Winterpole had installed filtration pumps that poured millions of gallons of icy fresh water under the continent, chilling the region and providing drinking water for the agents. The water moved fast. Diana shivered as they crossed a narrow bridge over one of the rushing rivers.
At the very bottom of the complex, the walls had not been smoothed or polished yet; they were simply rough stone. Watching where they stepped on the slick rock floor, Mister Snow led the junior agents to a corridor. A caution sign hung over the opening to the corridor.
WARNING—UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Mister Snow removed the sign and went in. Diana and Benjamin followed. At the end of the corridor they came to a large circular door—the entrance to a vault.
“I didn’t know this was here,” Diana said.
Benjamin cast her a condescending glance. “Your impotent powers of observation will prevent you from advancing in Winterpole.”
Good thing I don’t want to advance in Winterpole, Diana thought to herself.
Mister Snow swiped a key card, twisted an old-fashioned copper key, and punched a code into a panel on the wall. A number of mechanisms popped at once. There was a pneumatic hiss, and the vault door opened. Inside was a single sheet of cyber paper on an antique wooden table.
With the most delicate movements, Mister Snow picked up the cyber paper and showed it to Benjamin and Diana. “Winterpole created this document to be our contingency plan, in case the Lanes ever did acquire a certificate of occupancy. This is the Ultimate Continent Ownership Form.”
“What is it?” Diana asked.
Mister Snow gave her a strange look. “It’s the Ultimate Continent Ownership Form. I just said that.”
“I mean, what does it do?”
“It allows a one-time activation. Whoever possesses the form when it’s activated becomes the sole owner of the eighth continent. Thankfully the Lanes failed to get a certificate, and now we don’t need to use it.” Mister Snow closed the vault. It locked with another hiss. “The Ultimate Continent Ownership Form cannot be destroyed, so we must continue to guard it. That’s where you two come in.”
Diana looked at Benjamin and then back at Mister Snow. “Us?”
“Correct.” Mister Snow handed Benjamin the key card, copper key, and a piece of paper with a password written on it. “You’ve done well. The ownership form is now your responsibility. In the event something happens to you, Junior Agent Maple will take over these duties. Remain vigilant, junior agents. I’m counting on you.”
“Yes sir, Mister Snow!” Benjamin saluted.
Diana stared at the items in the boy’s hand. If Rick and his family could get their hands on the ownership form, they still had a chance to control the continent. But that was a big if. The settlement had been destroyed. Diana wasn’t even sure if the Lanes were still alive.
Rick coughed. He opened his eyes, but all he saw was darkness. He could tell he was laying chest up, so he tried to maintain slow and steady breathing and let his vision adjust. His arms were pinned to his sides. He struggled. He felt beat up, sore all over, and the skin on his back was tender. Somehow, he managed to shove something heavy out of the way and raised his hands.
He continued to push, widening the tiny holes in whatever was covering him, and eventually broke free. Rick was standing among the wreckage of the smashed robo-giraffe walker. The explosion must have thrown him clea
r of the vehicle, but then the rubble landed on top of him. A heavy dome of plastic had absorbed most of the weight of the debris. He’d survived just by random chance.
The rest of the Lane settlement was leveled. Many of the hollow trees still burned. Spire One and Spire Two had collapsed, and splinters of fallen wood covered the ground like autumn leaves.
“Mom! Dad! Sprout!” Rick called out, but it hurt his back to shout. Nervously, he pulled up his T-shirt. He didn’t even have to look. He could feel the burns on both shoulder blades, as well as his lower back. He should have figured—no one got out of an explosion like that scratch-free.
Some of the settlers wandered the devastation, looking for loved ones, seeing what they could salvage. When they saw Rick, they rushed over to check on him.
“I’m fine, it’s okay,” he assured them. “Go find whoever needs help. I need to look for my parents.”
Over by the stump that had been Spire Two, Sprout was inspecting the broken entry doors and scratching his head. “Sprout! Thank the cosmos you’re all right.”
“Rick!” Sprout’s face lit up. “Aw, boy, am I happy to see you. I need your help. I think there are some people trapped in the root system of Spire Two.”
“Under the stump? Oh, dear! We have to get them out.” Rick reached for the doors, but they were jammed.
“That’s the problem,” Sprout explained. “I can’t seem to get inside.”
“What about your lasso?” Rick asked. “Let’s climb up and over.”
“Hoo-wee! Good thinking, Rick.” Sprout pulled out his looped rope and tossed it around a broken spike of wood above the door. He climbed the rope and quickly was over the wall, inside the stump. Rick followed, grunting in pain as he went up the rope. Every motion sent agony through his back. His thoughts drifted back to his fight in the head of the giraffe. He couldn’t believe Evie was working with Vesuvia, that she had attacked the continent. And the things she had said. Rick didn’t know what to think. No one knew of Evie’s involvement but him . . . and he didn’t know how to say anything.