by Charlie Wood
“That’s not what I did, I just didn’t know—”
“It’s fine. Seriously. You’re not thinking that way anymore, are you?”
“Hell no.”
“Okay then. Then that’s good enough for me.”
Ida held up her stein and they shared a toast. After taking a sip, Ida looked toward the dance floor. Orion was dancing with Aykrada.
“So, let me ask you something,” she said.
“Sure.”
“Is Orion single?”
Keplar looked at her, with his mouth dropped open. Then he burst out laughing, holding his stomach. Ida laughed too, taking another sip.
“I think I’ve already had too much to drink,” she said, shaking her head.
Not far from Keplar and Ida, among a set of picnic tables that were filled with the celebrating citizens of Ruffalo Rock, Jennifer and Chad were telling Tobin about their unexpected adventure.
“So I walk in,” Jennifer said, “and Keplar is just standing there, with mustard and ice cream and who knows what else all over his jacket, and my mom’s vase is broken on the floor behind him.”
“Oh my god,” Tobin said, laughing. “That’s awful. And awesome.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna be fun to explain.”
“How do you think I feel?” Chad said. “Orion came into my work, and I just left! I didn’t even tell anyone! I didn’t realize it until now, but I’m definitely gonna get fired over this!”
They laughed.
“Well,” Tobin said, “considering what happened at the navy base, I think you should be happy that—”
“Ahem.”
Tobin turned around. Adrianna was standing behind them.
“Hi,” she said. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”
Chad looked her up and down. “Whoa.”
“Oh yeah, yeah,” Tobin stammered. “This is Chad.”
Adrianna shook his hand. “Hi, Chad.”
“Whoa,” Chad said again.
Tobin turned to Jennifer. “And this is Jennifer.”
Jennifer extended her hand. “Hi. You must be Adrianna. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Really?” Adrianna replied. “Because I haven’t heard anything about you.”
Jennifer smiled uncomfortably, glancing at Tobin from the corner of her eye. Tobin looked to the ground, his hands in his pockets.
“Oh boy,” he muttered.
Chad looked back and forth between Jennifer and Adrianna. He couldn’t stop grinning. “This is awesome,” he said between chuckles.
Meanwhile, at the front of the festival, near the wooden gate of Ruffalo Rock, Scatterbolt was trying to coerce someone to come out of the Rytonian Rebels’ medic helicopter. Holding out his hand, the robot dangled a piece of pink-and-green bremshaw meat between his fingers.
“Come on, come on,” Scatterbolt said quietly. “Go ahead. I know it’s noisy out here, but it’s really fun. Come on. That’s it.”
Finally, Scatterbolt was successful—the baby trigulsaur bounded down the chopper’s steps and jumped through the air, clutching the bremshaw meat from Scatterbolt’s fingers.
“There you go!” Scatterbolt said to the bouncing, tongue-wagging, three-horned dinosaur. “See? We’re all friends here. Come on, it will be fun.”
As Scatterbolt walked back toward the festival, the trigulsaur followed him.
“Hey everybody!” the robot shouted. “Look!”
A group of chatting heroes—including Mad Dog John and Wakefield—turned to Scatterbolt.
“Look who’s joined us!” the robot said, pointing to the trigulsaur.
“Uh, cool,” Mad Dog John said, confused. “What is it?”
“It’s a trigulsaur!”
“Excellent,” Mad Dog John said with a smile. “What’s his name?”
“Umm…” Scatterbolt eyed the dinosaur, then turned back to the heroes. “Keplar Junior!”
“Sweet!” Mad Dog John replied, holding up his mug of punch. “Keplar Junior!”
“Keplar Junior!” the rest of the heroes replied, holding up their drinks and sharing a cheers.
“See?” Scatterbolt said, turning to the newly named Keplar Junior. “Told you it was fun!”
A few dozen feet away, as Scatterbolt tossed another chunk of bremshaw to the baby dinosaur, the original Keplar was still sitting on the bench and watching the festivities from a distance. Soon, Ida returned and handed the dog another stein of beer.
“Another drink?” Keplar said. “You’re not so bad after all, for a Rytonian.”
“Easy,” Ida replied. “You haven’t reached the point where you can make jokes like that yet.”
Keplar laughed as Ida sat down near him. They watched the dance floor.
“Look, I’m all for a party,” Keplar said, “and it’s great having everyone here and everything, but isn’t this a little morbid?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like...we’re celebrating as if we might not come back tomorrow or something.”
“Well, maybe some of us won’t.”
“Hey. Don’t say that.”
“What? Let’s be realistic, Keplar. You saw what happened back there with the Daybreaker. You felt what happened. This won’t be pretty tomorrow.”
“So you’re saying this is a hopeless mission?”
“No. Not at all. But everyone here knows what’s at stake. What’s been asked of them. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess. But we’re gonna party about it?”
“What the heck else are we gonna do? Sit in our rooms and count down the seconds until morning? Plus, it’s the tradition of our host. You don’t insult your host. Especially when he’s a three-hundred-pound eagle.”
Keplar grinned. “I guess you’re right.” He shook his head. “Geez. I must be getting old. Questioning why we’re having a party.”
“Maybe Orion’s finally getting to you. Or maybe it’s the third degree burns all over your body.”
The dog laughed. “Could be. Could be that.”
A silence passed.
“So tell me,” the dog said. “You serious about that Orion thing?”
Ida looked toward the dance floor. Orion was now slow dancing with Aykrada.
“I’m only telling you this ‘cuz I like you,” Ida began, “but I used to have his poster on my wall back when I was in college.”
As Ida and Keplar continued their talk on the bench, on the dance floor in front of them, Orion spun Aykrada around on her toes and then resumed slow dancing with her.
“It’s a good thing your husband’s not here to see this,” Orion said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want to get beat up.”
Aykrada rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. He idolizes you more than I do. He probably wishes it was him out here dancing with you instead of me.”
Orion laughed and gave her another twirl.
“Plus,” she said, “if I can’t dance with one of my oldest friends, who can I dance with?”
Then, over Orion’s shoulder, Aykrada spotted Tobin. The boy was chatting with Chad, Captain X-Treme, and three members of the Shigeru Knights.
“Look at him over there,” Aykrada said. “Can you believe it? Scott’s son. Our Scott’s son. Right there.”
“I know,” Orion replied. “Sometimes, I have to remind myself that it’s Tobin I’m talking with and not Scott. It’s uncanny.”
Aykrada smiled. “And wonderful. You’ve done an amazing job with him, Orion. You really have. Scott would be so happy. And proud. Proud doesn’t begin to describe it.”
Orion watched Tobin from the dance floor. “You have to promise me something, Aykrada.”
“Of course.”
<
br /> “If anything happens tomorrow, if I don’t make it…take care of him. I know he’s grown up a lot, but he’s still just a kid.”
“Orion, stop it. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”
“Aykrada, I’m ninety-seven years old. I’m not who I used to be. I can barely even go to Earth anymore without collapsing. Who knows how I’ll be able to hold up inside the Dark Nebula.”
“Orion, I’ve been watching you do this for three decades. You’re the Red Wolf. Nothing is gonna happen to you.”
“But if it does. Promise me that. Promise me you’ll look after him.”
“Of course. But nothing is gonna happen to you.”
The song ended. Aykrada let go of Orion.
“Okay,” she said, “I better go talk to Wakefield before he gets too grumpy and goes to bed. Maybe I’ll bring him some cake. You want anything?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Okay. Talk to you soon.”
As Aykrada turned and walked away, the old man spotted Tobin coming toward him.
“What’s going on over there?” the old man asked, motioning toward the edge of the dance floor.
Tobin looked in that direction. Not far from them, Adrianna and Jennifer were talking, and Adrianna was cracking up with laughter.
“Apparently they’re best friends,” Tobin said. “Which is just great. I don’t know what’s better for me: if they are enemies or if they get along.”
Orion chuckled. He looked around the street festival. “So this is all a little different, huh?”
“The party? Uh, yeah, just a little bit. I actually really like it, though. I think it’s helping everyone bond or whatever. Or at least helping us relax.”
“Yes, normally I wouldn’t be too happy about all this, but we are asking them for a lot tomorrow.”
“Maybe it’s better if nobody’s thinking about it.”
The old man and the boy walked away from the dance floor.
“I know it’s a big deal, Tobin—the biggest mission we’ve ever had—but everything is gonna be fine tomorrow. I promise.”
“Really? You really think we have enough?”
“We’ve done all we can do. I know that much. We’ve worked hard and given it our all and prepared. Now we just have to act and protect Earth while we still can. It’s time to defend your world.”
Tobin nodded. “You know, I was thinking—all these people we’ve met? We really could not have done any of this without them.”
“I know, it’s true. We should always remember that. Without the help of our friends, we’d be absolutely lost. Especially Agent Everybody. With all he’s done over the last three months, it’s unthinkable to imagine where we’d be without his help.”
Tobin looked around the party. “Hey…where is Agent Everybody?”
In the spacious, magnificently decorated lobby on the ground floor of the Trident skyscraper, a beautiful, raven-haired, dark-skinned, twenty-four-year-old Rytonian woman sat on the comfy cushions of a large sofa, watching the building’s main elevator.
Finally, the young woman saw the person she was waiting for—a Harrison mailman walked out of the elevator, strolled across the lobby, and dropped a package off with the greeter at the building’s front desk. As the mailman walked outside and onto the sidewalk, the raven-haired girl followed him, exiting through the Trident’s automatic sliding doors.
“Excuse me, sir?” the woman said, walking along the street. “I think I saw you drop something back there.”
The mailman turned around, patting his pockets and mail satchel. “Really? I don’t think I’m missing anything.”
“It looked real important.”
The mailman checked the envelopes in his hand. “I have everything right here.”
The raven-haired woman smiled. “Are you sure? I picked it up and brought it back to my car.”
The mailman looked to her. “Really?”
The woman tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Come on, I can show you.”
The mailman smiled. He checked his watch. “Well, hell, sure.”
Three blocks from the Trident in a quiet section of Harrison, the mailman followed the beautiful woman down an alleyway. A black car was parked in between the two buildings.
“The package is back here?” the mailman asked.
“Sure is.”
The mailman grinned. “What are you up to, Toots?”
The woman turned around and smirked. “Oh, nothing.”
After reaching into her pocket, the woman held out her coiled fist toward the mailman. When the woman opened her hand, a burst of white smoke puffed out and into the mailman’s face. As his eyelids fluttered, his legs turned to jelly and he dropped to the ground, asleep. Holding the mailman by his limp arms, the woman dragged him behind the car.
Then, when the mailman was out of sight from the street, the woman’s face folded into itself, morphing into Agent Everybody. But, his true form only lasted a moment—in less than two seconds, Agent Everybody changed his appearance again, this time morphing into an exact duplicate of the mailman.
“Us men are so easy,” Agent Everybody said, lightly slapping the unconscious mailman’s face. “Did you really think she was in your league? Just be happy I didn’t shrink you down and put you into a pill.”
As he pulled his blue hat down onto his face and straightened his mailman uniform, Agent Everybody walked down the sidewalk and back into the Trident.
“Hi, ma’am,” Agent Everybody said to the woman at the skyscraper’s front desk. “Could you make sure this makes its way to the tippity-top? Almost forgot it on my way out.”
He handed the secretary an envelope.
“Sure thing,” she replied with a smile.
Five minutes later, on the top floor of the Trident, the secretary knocked on the door to Rigel’s office and stepped inside.
“Rigel, sir? This was just delivered for you.”
Rigel was standing at his desk, looking over blueprints with Nova. “It was? From who?”
“The mailman,” the secretary replied, handing the letter to Rigel.
The red giant opened the envelope, confused. Inside, there was a simple sheet of white paper, containing a message written in red ink. Rigel recognized the handwriting instantly:
I’m ready to talk if you are.
Either way, I suggest you evacuate the city.
We’re coming for you.
Tomorrow. Boston Common. 7 PM.
Sincerely,
O.
Rigel stared at the letter. Furious, he crumpled it up into a ball and tossed it across the room.
Only two hours later, Rigel and Nova were standing on the balcony outside of Rigel’s office. From there, they could see the center of Boston Common, where a squadron of Rytonian policeman and soldiers were leading thousands of people through a swirling, thirty-foot-tall, green, electrified portal, which was surrounded by barricades. The mass of evacuating people—most of whom were carrying suitcases—stretched all the way into the north end of the city.
At the same time, a message was blaring from the loudspeakers set up all around Harrison. From the speakers, a cheerful, female voice was repeating the same four sentences over and over, ensuring it was heard by all of the city’s citizens.
“We hope you enjoy your trip back to old Rytonia! Again, the Daybreaker would like to remind everyone that this is only a temporary visit. In only a few days, we’ll have made the necessary repairs to the city’s air purification system, and we’ll all come right back to our new home! Can’t wait to see you again!”
On the balcony, Rigel’s eyes were cast down on Boston Common. “Make sure they are all ready,” the red giant said to Nova. “The council. The Eradicators. Make sure everyone knows
what’s happening. Make sure they are ready for tomorrow.”
“I will,” Nova replied. “But how are we hiding this evacuation from the Daybreaker?”
Rigel turned and walked back into his office. “He’s not in a state to be aware of anything right now.”
106 floors below Rigel and Nova, in the cold science lab in the Research and Development wing of the Trident, the Daybreaker screamed, with his head tossed back toward the ceiling. As his latest energy extraction continued, he clenched his hands around the metal straps across his wrists, and felt the blue electricity bursting from his burning biceps.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The morning after the Ruffalo Rock street festival, Tobin sat on the edge of the bed in one of King Ontombe’s guest rooms, with his arms resting on his knees. Across from him, his Strike costume was draped across a chair.
“Good morning, Tobin,” Orion said from the doorway. “Are you ready for this?”
“Absolutely,” Tobin replied. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s a beautiful day for an insane plan with about a million things that could go wrong.”
Orion chuckled. “We’re all going to meet in the portal room in a couple hours after breakfast to go over everything. Is there anything else you want to do before we start? Anything else that might help us?”
Tobin thought it over. “Is there a communicator here that can reach the museum?”
Thousands of miles away, in the last prison cell on the left in the Museum of the Heroes holding area, Jonathan Ashmore lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His stomach was growling.
Suddenly, the video communicator on the wall across from Jonathan’s cell blinked and turned on. On the screen, Jonathan could see Tobin’s face.
“About time!” Jonathan said, quickly sitting up in bed and looking to the communicator. “Where the hell has everybody been this morning? I’m starving to death here. This is inhumane treatment, you know. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”