Johnny Graphic and the Etheric Bomb

by D. R. Martin

  Dame Honoria spoke first—in a tone that could have frozen all the water in Zenith Bay. “Johnny tells us that you’re in there somewhere, Ozzie.”

  A dark, frightening grin spread across the round Rotonesian face.

  “Well,” Dame Honoria continued, “you’re going to have to prove it.”

  Ozzie bowed slightly from the waist. “Of course, ma’am. I’d expect nothing less.”

  “The voice sounds right, anyway,” said Dame Honoria. She indicated a chair for Ozzie/Prakoso. She walked around the table and sat facing him.

  “I shall ask you things that only my father’s majordomo might know,” she said. “Things too obscure for even the most meticulous briefing.”

  Ozzie crossed his arms and said, “Ask away, Mrs. Rathbone. Ask away.”

  “My father’s favorite drink?”

  “He was a claret man, your old dad. He had to have his Chateau Greysolon close at hand. The ’97, of course.”

  Dame Honoria’s eyes widened a bit, then squinted. “The name of the budgie I kept on Gorton Island?”

  “MacTavish. A blue budgie. Miserable little blighter never missed a chance to bite me.”

  The zombie successfully answered several more of Dame Honoria’s questions and she finally nodded to Crider and Mr. Cargill.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Rathbone,” Crider said. “Naturally, Mr. Eccleston, we have many things we’d like to ask you. But the first is simple: what is it you want?”

  The zombie reached inside his jacket and pulled out a buff-colored envelope. He slid it across the empty table toward Crider. “A little message for your government.”

  Crider grabbed the envelope, ripped it open, extracted a sheet of paper, and began to read.

  Johnny’s heart dropped like a stone when he saw Crider’s ruddy complexion turn a sickly white.

  When Crider finished reading, he stared at Ozzie with a stunned expression. “Good heavens, man. You can’t be serious.”

  The Rotonesian zombie grinned a shy little smile. “Oh, but we are, Mr. Crider. We are. Deadly serious.”

  Chapter 54

  Tuesday, December 10, 1935

  Zenith

  Johnny wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about the secret meeting in the boardroom of the Zenith Clarion. But he didn’t think it was right that his best friend couldn’t know about the terrible news. After all, she had risked her life, too, on their journey across the Greater Ocean. So he arranged to meet her after school at their favorite soda fountain. “A top-secret meeting,” he had whispered in her ear.

  He was on the Oakley Avenue streetcar in East Zenith when he noticed that the girl ghost Bao had tailed him. He spotted her a couple of times, flying along in the rain, a good hundred feet behind the streetcar. The ghost had been following him around the house a lot, looking weirdly moony when they made eye contact.

  Dripping from the rain, Johnny stepped into Shep’s Super Soda Shop—all glass and mirrors and stainless steel and colorful vinyl upholstery. For a moment no one bothered to look at the new arrival. But when some girls in the nearest booth noticed him, they almost shouted in unison, “It’s Johnny Graphic!”

  That unleashed a torrent of greetings: “Hey Johnny!” and “Hi Johnny!” and “Look who’s here!” and “Where’ve you been?” But there were also a few catcalls and boos and one loud, rude raspberry. Not everyone was impressed with Johnny Graphic the Newspaper Big Shot.

  A moment later, in came Nina Bain in her yellow rain slicker and yellow fisherman’s hat.

  Her entrance provoked fevered speculation. Johnny could hear joshing words about “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” and even the dreaded “First comes love, then comes marriage…”

  Both blushing fiercely, they settled into the last booth in the back. The very skinny Shep magically appeared with a tray. He unloaded their regulars—a vanilla shake and La Concha hamburger for Johnny, and a Cozy Island hot dog and strawberry malt for Nina. “Both of ’em on the house, Johnny,” Shep said. “Don’t be a stranger now.”

  After they cleaned their plates and drained their glasses, Johnny leaned toward the center of the table. Nina leaned in, too, eager to learn the forbidden knowledge.

  “We have to talk softly, Sparks,” Johnny said. “It’d be really bad if anyone overheard. And whatever I tell you has gotta be super, duper, duper secret. I mean, you can tell no one.”

  “Absolutely, not a peep.” Nina’s eyes were glittering with anticipation.

  Johnny recounted everything that had happened at the top of the Clarion Tower. He had both elbows on the table, chin resting on his knuckles. He spoke intensely but very quietly. They were almost nose-to-nose. Johnny could hear other kids chattering about them. He hoped they didn’t think he and Nina were whispering sweet nothings to each other.

  “So Ozzie hands the letter to Crider. He reads it. Crider almost looks like he’s going to…well…like…puke.”

  “What was in the letter?” Nina asked with an impatient expression.

  “Do you know what an ‘ultimatum’ is?”

  “Of course I know. A demand for something, backed up by a threat of hurting you.”

  “Well, this ultimatum’s a doozy.”

  “How so?”

  Johnny leaned even closer toward Nina, and she leaned toward him.

  “They want whole cities reserved for ghosts and for zombies. All the living get kicked out. First out of Zenith. Then Silver City, Molderdam, Tor Chan, Ville de Rivière, Royalton.”

  Nina gasped. “That’s utterly crazy!”

  “No argument there, Sparks. Nutty as a holiday fruitcake.”

  “And what if the government doesn’t agree?”

  “If Zenith isn’t emptied of every living human by the end of this year, they’ll blow us all up with another etheric bomb.”

  When Nina gasped, kids in the nearby booths instantly looked their way. Johnny knew there were a lot of nosey parkers around, trying to overhear their conversation. He put an index finger to his lips, signaling to Nina that she should lower her voice.

  “The end of the year is just a few weeks away,” she whispered.

  “Right again, Sparks.”

  “And even if the government agreed, where would everyone go?”

  “There are over one million people in Zenith. That’s a lot of folks to turn into refugees.”

  “Do you really think Percy’s gang would do it?”

  “Dunno. They murdered those members of the Gesellschaft. Pulverized all those ghosts in the bomb. They have blood all over their hands. So yeah, maybe.”

  They stared at each other silently, grimly, momentarily at a loss for words.

  Gripping her lower lip with her teeth, Nina looked as though she might burst out crying. “But I love Zenith,” she said. “Everything about it. The parks, the libraries, the museums, the movie houses, the stores downtown. To have it blown up by maniacs and zombies—well, it’s the most horrible thing imaginable.”

  Johnny almost felt guilty, telling her the terrible news. It wasn’t easy being one of the very few people on earth who had actually seen the etheric bomb in action. And now they both had to carry around the awful secret of a second bomb.

  “What do you think the government’s going to do?” Nina asked with a note of desperation.

  “Mr. Crider said he didn’t know. But he made Mr. Cargill promise not to print anything until a decision was made, until he could give an official okay. If any of us blabs, we get tossed in the clink.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You betcha, Sparks. Seriously. Even if you’re just a kid.”

  “Then why are you telling me?”

  “’Cause there’s no one in the world I trust more than you. You won’t go around blabbing it. And besides, like I said, you deserve to know.”

  Nina rewarded him with a grin.

  “Anyway,” Johnny continued, “it just absolutely killed Mr. Cargill, not being able to break the biggest story in years. But he agreed. If news of this got out,
there might be panic. Anarchy. A lot of people could get hurt.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “If the prime minister decides to give in, I suppose they’ll force an evacuation of Zenith.”

  “That’s hard to imagine. Based on just a single letter? What if it’s a trick?”

  “We thought of that. That’s why Mr. Cargill believes the new prime minister will probably decide to do nothing. Call Ozzie’s bluff. If it is a bluff.”

  “He has a bad choice or a worse choice,” observed Nina. “Maybe they could try to stop the bomb from getting here.”

  “Remember, Sparks, no one even knows what the thing looks like. Franklin Fforbes and the other two scientists never saw the actual bomb. Neither did Bao. Bigger or smaller than a bread box? It’s anyone’s guess. It might even be here already.”

  Nina’s black eyes widened. “Johnny, maybe we ought to get out of town!”

  Johnny stared at his friend, surprised. “But what if we’re the only ones with a chance to stop it, Sparks? What if everyone in Zenith is depending on us? Maybe the government’s doing a bang-up job of hunting for the bomb. But what if it isn’t?”

  Frowning miserably, Nina whispered, “I don’t want to lose my family again.”

  “Me neither,” groaned Johnny. The possibility that his parents might still be alive had been on his mind a lot lately. And this blasted bomb business was preventing any efforts to go searching for them. Johnny could never forgive Percy Rathbone for the huge mess he had made.

  Johnny figured they looked awfully gloomy as they headed out of the soda shop. That didn’t stop a giggling, scrawny girl—slouching in a booth by herself—from hollering, “Be sure to invite us to the wedding! Ha-ha-ha!”

  Johnny was approaching the door when he heard the loud slap of a hand on skin. He pivoted around to see the scrawny girl looking this way and that, her cheek rapidly turning red. She angrily sputtered, “Who did that? Who did that?”

  Out of the corner of his eye Johnny spotted Bao flying up through the ceiling—shaking her hand as if something had just hurt it.

  Johnny groaned. What was that all about? He needed to have a serious talk with that little girl ghost.

  Chapter 55

  Friday, December 13, 1935

  Zenith

  In the days following his conversation with Nina, Johnny felt almost as if the encounter with Ozzie the zombie had never actually happened. The idea that all of Zenith could get blown up into a giant mushroom cloud seemed bizarre. Ridiculous. Absurd.

  Because wherever Johnny went, the city looked perfectly normal—no different than he had seen it in any other holiday season of his young life. People bustled about in their winter hats and gloves and overcoats, lugging shopping bags full of holiday gifts. On the street corners bell-ringers collected nickels and dimes for the poor. Jolly holiday music filled the air. Colorful decorations and lights hung on every downtown street lamp. Kids all over town looked almost giddy, longing for the presents that awaited them in a few short days. Even the adults were smiling.

  But, of course, Ozzie wasn’t just just a figment of Johnny’s imagination. He was as real as real could be. And if the odd-smelling little creature had told them the truth, a second etheric bomb could be here in Zenith right now.

  For the first time since he’d finished school, Johnny wondered if maybe some secrets were too big for a twelve-and-a-half-year-old. He knew he wasn’t the only one feeling the weight of this dreadful knowledge.

  Nina—usually bright and upbeat—had become uncharacteristically glum. Everyone had figured out that she knew about the ultimatum. But like Johnny, they all trusted her to keep the secret.

  Uncle Louie’s big, square, happy face had gone gray and sad. He hadn’t cracked a joke in ages.

  Dame Honoria tried to look and sound cheerful, but couldn’t quite pull it off. No matter what she did, her guilt about Percy was there for everyone to see. But still, she seemed relieved that her son was safely locked up in the bowels of the National Building.

  Mel kept to her room, except when she joined them to eat. Danny had been in town between flights, but she wouldn’t even go down to the Babbitt Aeroboat Port to see him. She just talked to him on the phone for a minute in a dull, flat voice, then dashed back upstairs to work on her equations. She was desperate to figure out what the bomb might look like and how it might be disarmed.

  Johnny and Mel were also making plans for a winter trip to the Old Continent to hunt down the Contessa di Altamonta. She was the ghost painter who had made that mysterious drawing of their parents in captivity. Since Percy had clammed up utterly, the contessa’s knowledge was vital to shedding some light on what happened during that fateful expedition on Okkatek Island.

  For her part, Bao had confessed to Johnny that she had been eavesdropping on him and Nina at the malt shop. She had hovered right behind him during the entire top-secret conversation. And she had slapped the girl who wanted to come to Johnny’s “wedding.”

  The only good laugh Johnny had had lately was when Bao had asked him a very solemn question. “Little Brother, you aren’t really getting married, are you?”

  The girl in the malt shop was just making a bad joke, he explained. Heckfire, he was only twelve and a half. Besides, who would want to marry him? Then the thought occurred that maybe centuries ago, in Bao’s tribe, twelve-and-a-half-year-olds actually did get married. Now that was really scary.

  Johnny made the little ghost promise to never spy on him again, adding that “Being dead is no excuse for being rude.” Bao nodded earnestly and swore that she was a good girl, she really was. Then she started to cry—a quiet, tearless sob—which made Johnny feel like a mean old bully.

  Later, Johnny asked Mel about Bao’s strange behavior. His sister rolled her eyes. “You big dope,” she laughed. “She has a huge crush on you.”

  * * *

  Johnny tramped up Birchwood’s long driveway in the chilly drizzle, after an assignment at city hall. In his head he went over what he needed to say to everyone. Normally, he wouldn’t feel comfortable ordering around Uncle Louie or Dame Honoria or even Mel. But these sure weren’t normal times. He had to do something—even if it proved to be in vain. Let no one ever say that John Joshua Graphic would allow his favorite place in the world to get blown up without a good fight.

  He went up the front stairs and stepped inside the big brick house—vigorously wiping his soaked shoes, setting down his camera pack, and throwing off his wet raincoat and hat.

  “Hello, Master Johnny,” said Mrs. Lundgren, from the front hallway.

  Too preoccupied to even say hello, Johnny asked, “Is everyone home?”

  “Yes, indeed,” the ghost housekeeper said. “Even Dame Honoria and Sir Chauncey.”

  Within five minutes Johnny had gathered family and friends around the kitchen table. Mel looked irritated at being dragged away from her research.

  “What’s up, sport?” Uncle Louie asked.

  “Yeah, Johnny, where’s the fire?” Nina added.

  Dame Honoria was sphinx-like, revealing none of her thoughts. Colonel MacFarlane stood by the refrigerator, at ease.

  “After I dropped off my film of the mayor’s press conference, I had a word with Mr. Cargill,” explained Johnny.

  “About the bomb threat?” Mel said.

  Johnny nodded.

  “Any good news?” asked Nina, sounding faintly hopeful.

  Johnny shook his head. “Mr. Cargill can’t even get Mr. Crider to return his calls. Miss Beale says none of her sources in Capital City shows any sign of even knowing about the ultimatum. It’s clear everyone’s being kept in the dark, or otherwise we’d be hearing rumblings about something big coming down the pike.

  “Mr. Cargill thinks that if the government was gonna do anything, they’d have done it by now. He thinks they plan to call Ozzie’s bluff. They won’t evacuate Zenith. It’s like they’re daring Percy’s gang to set off the etheric bomb!”

  The minute he said “
Percy’s gang,” Johnny regretted it. Not that it wasn’t true, the way he referred to Percy Rathbone. He was the boss of a gang of criminals, terrorists. But he knew how it hurt Dame Honoria. She gave a little shudder when he spoke that phrase.

  Everyone around the table looked helpless.

  “As you know,” Dame Honoria said, her gaze downcast, “I have visited with Percy several times, down in the prison cells of the National Building. He remains stubbornly uncommunicative.”

  “Did you mention Ozzie’s ultimatum?” Johnny asked.

  “Yes. I told him about the demand for a ghost-only city. At that, Percy smiled and nodded, as if he thought it a capital idea. Then I added that unless the city was evacuated by the end of the year, an etheric bomb would be detonated and Zenith wiped off the face of the earth.”

  Dame Honoria paused for a moment and looked Johnny right in the eye.

  “A curious thing, though. While he seemed pleased about the ultimatum, he was genuinely surprised when I mentioned that Zenith is the target. It’s almost as if he had previous knowledge of the plan, but not that it would be carried out here.”

  “Maybe the plan changed, once he was captured,” said Johnny.

  “That was my thought, too,” said Dame Honoria. “I wonder if, by bringing Percy here, we have unwittingly brought the bomb to Zenith, as well.”

  Johnny was thinking the same exact thing and now he had to push hard for some action.

  “Then we have to find the bomb and destroy it,” he said grimly. “Before it destroys us.”

  Frowning fiercely, Mel shook her head. “I wish we could, Johnny. But it would make looking for a needle in a haystack seem like child’s play. The city’s way too big; they could hide the bomb anywhere. We don’t even know what it looks like.”

  Johnny frowned back and slammed his hand on the table, rattling the cups and saucers sitting on it. “But we have to try! If Mom and Pop are alive, I don’t want them coming back here to find us dead and Zenith a smoking wasteland.”