Coinworld [Book Three]

by Benjamin Laskin

  “Yes, Sir.” Damian did not know what else to reply. That The Six always seemed to know what he was feeling creeped him out. “Would you like me to investigate, Sir?”

  “It’s nothing serious for now, but I would be interested in knowing what Coin Island makes of these sightings, if anything at all.”

  “Understood.”

  “Now get along to your conference and meet me here again tomorrow at the same time to tell me what was discussed. I want to be better prepared than we were in Memphis. We succeeded then, but not without unnecessary casualties and attention.”

  “So you’ll be joining in on the operation?”

  “But of course. Capturing The Four is not something to leave to an ordinary coin commander. The Four is not to be underestimated.”

  “What about the boy?”

  “What about him?”

  “Is he who you think he is, Sir? The blue-eyed one mentioned in the visions?”

  “It’s too early to tell. His father is certainly onto us, and the lad is very bright and perceptive. Coinworld has come easily to him.”

  “Sir, if I may be so bold, this Vision Master of yours, are his visions more trustworthy than those of Chief Iron Tail?”

  “He’s far, far older than the Indian, and nothing he told me has proved wrong yet. Why do you ask?”

  “Anyone revered by The Six is someone I’d like to one day meet, Sir.”

  “Would such an award temper your doubts, Damian?”

  Damian blanched. “Your words wound me to my core, Sir! I have no doubts, Six. None! Please don’t mistake my curiosity for anything other than my desire to become a fully actualized dime and to better serve you!”

  Nicolai smiled. “Dear Damian, don’t be so defensive. I recognize your longing. Meeting the Vision Master is not an easy task, but you have my word that after this mission I will take you to him.”

  Damian bowed his head. “Your word is solid gold to me, Six.”

  Nicolai swiveled on the rim of the dog bowl. Sensing danger, Dominique Double Eagle had already taken flight to snatch Nicolai up with a moment’s notice.

  “I see the stupid dog barking at me through the patio window,” he said. “His owner will be letting him out any second. Be on your way, Damian, and I will see you tomorrow.”

  Damian hurried into Darla Dime’s headquarters on level two and saw her and Kipp Quarter leaning over a map scratched into the sandy floor.

  Darla looked up. “Welcome, Damian. Join us.”

  “Sorry I’m late,” he muttered. He hated apologizing and never offered an excuse unless he was asked, something Darla or Kipp rarely did. Damian wasn’t sure if it was because he intimidated them, or that they were both too incompetent and feckless to care. All of the above, he preferred to believe.

  Darla modeled her office after Deirdre’s on Coin Island, only on a larger scale. Every commander of every bullion base had done the same. Deirdre, who had yet to visit any of the other bases, would have been appalled to learn she had the smallest office of all.

  The size of Darla’s headquarters had nothing to do with the size of her ego. All of the bullion bases were much bigger than Coin Island for one, and the island’s caliche-riddled ground was difficult to excavate.

  Darla’s office contained three cavernous rooms, each with skylights, a sandy floor, and walls adorned with etchings.

  As with Deirdre’s office, the main room held a sacred reflecting bowl recessed into the floor for communications. A plastic straw inserted through the ground above fed drops of water into the dish when it needed refilling. Coin engineers also installed an oil lamp employing a jar of Gerber’s baby food sunk into the floor. The lamp’s sacred flame allowed for communicating across the CBS at night when the cavern’s skylights were of little use. The tiny fire only allowed for audio communications, but it was better than nothing.

  Brave Frail Feather and his temperamental buffalo, Limp Paw, who had outfitted Deirdre’s office, had been brought in to decorate the cave and etch maps onto the walls. The 1920 Indian nickel’s talents had found a nice niche, and with the expansion of coin bases around the country, his skills were always in demand.

  Limp Paw, however, wasn’t fond of travel and hated spending months away from his bison buddies at Coin Island. When Limp Paw’s snorting became too much for Deirdre, she suggested that Frail Feather and Leo Lincoln open an artisan guild where they could pass on their skills. This compromise delighted all involved.

  One year later, the two coins opened ‘The Coin Island Academy of Engineering and Arts’ at the base of Mount Cashmore. A five-minute buck from Camp Coin, there the neurotic nickel and painstaking penny began instructing qualified coins in the fine arts of etching, painting, sculpting, and improvised engineering.

  Among the most important of the skills taught at the academy was mapmaking. Every bullion base required a skilled mapmaker, and as coins became more animated, it was the pre-’59 Lincoln wheat cents who seemed to excel at the art. Having learned how to manipulate their two wheat stocks with finesse, the pennies’ stocks could be used to both brush clear the sandy floor and draw with DaVinci-like precision.

  Damian bucked over to Darla and Kipp and peered down at the map they were studying. “Operation Jackpot?” Damian inquired.

  Darla nodded and brought him up to date, informing him of the casino hotel that was hosting the coin expo, which floor and convention hall it was to be held in, and how many Coin Raiders would be participating in the snatch. Operation Jackpot was to be the single largest redeeming raid ever put together, larger and more intricate even than the Memphis raid.

  Damian followed the two coins to a second map depicting a detailed layout of the convention room as described by Kipp Quarter and his reconnaissance team.

  Kipp explained the mission to Damian and how they intended to rescue the Peace Dollar. Damian nodded along. He thought the operation extremely well conceived, but he wasn’t about to congratulate the quarter.

  “Damian,” Kipp said, “few can plan a mission like you can. Are we missing anything?”

  “You’re counting on an awful lot to go right,” he answered. “It’ll be February. What if the windows are closed? You’re assuming the exhibition cases are glass topped, a lot of them today are using a new type of high-grade plastic. You scheduled the raid for the busiest time of the day. The more people around, the higher the chance things could go wrong, and of course, the more likely the possibility you’ll make a spectacle of yourselves.”

  Darla and Kipp exchanged frowns. The dime was right.

  “I’m not suggesting it’s back to the drawing board,” Damian said, “but do you have a back-up plan?”

  Kipp said he did and outlined changes they thought they could initiate at a moment’s notice.

  “Not bad,” Damian pronounced, “but I think you’re still putting too many coins in harm’s way. Why not attempt the interception before the show like you did in Memphis?”

  “In Memphis we knew who was holding Franny,” Darla answered. “We don’t have that information this time.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re trying,” Kipp said, “but so far we have nothing to go on.”

  “Then how can you be sure that the Peace Dollar will even be there?”

  “We’re not. But from flyers and other advertisements we’ve managed to track down, we’re sure that at least a few very valuable ’22 Peace Dollars will be there.”

  “I see,” Damian said, “but meaning no disrespect, it strikes me as a little selfish that The Four is willing to risk the lives of so many top operatives for a girlfriend who isn’t even animated.”

  From the cavern’s entrance a voice said, “You’re right, Damian. It is selfish.”

  14

  warts and all

  Damian Dime’s jaw unhinged and he turned a shade of taupe. He shot Darla and Kipp a vengeful glower, but quickly recovered and replaced it with a look of mild surprise. He turned towards the two coins silhouetted at the ca
ve’s opening, the day’s bright sunlight momentarily blinding him.

  “Four,” Damian said with a smile, “long time no see. Hannah, you’re as lovely as ever. How long have you two been on the base?” He flashed Darla a disapproving eye. “I wasn’t informed that you’d be gracing us with your presence.”

  “Just arrived,” Ned said.

  He and Hannah rolled over to the coins. Ned gave Damian a friendly tap and Hannah offered a smile and slight bow of recognition.

  “Damian,” Darla said, “The Four’s travel plans are never announced, you know that.”

  “Right,” Damian said, as if he had forgotten. He turned to Ned. “You, ah, entered at an inopportune time, Four. What you heard must have sounded rather—”

  “Don’t give it another thought,” Ned said. “I appreciate candor among my troops. You’re right, rescuing Franny is selfish, which is why it’s an all-volunteer mission. No coin is being ordered to take part.”

  “That is true,” Damian rejoined, “but with all due respect, you are The Four. I don’t know a coin who wouldn’t lay down his or her life for you. The peer pressure to volunteer is considerable.”

  Ned nodded in understanding but said nothing.

  Damian tucked his smirk behind Roosevelt’s jaw muscle. He felt he had delivered the self-important nickel a devastating wallop to his handsome Jeffersonian chin.

  To give cover to his blow, Damian smiled and added, “I was among the first to offer my services, but the commander here insists I stay behind. I wish you’d help to convince her to change her mind.”

  Answering for Ned, Darla said, “We’ve been over this, Damian. Someone has to run the base and no one is more qualified than you. Competence has its drawbacks, I’m afraid. Besides, your experience and eye for detail, as you were just demonstrating, makes you one of the most valuable coins on the mission.”

  “That’s right,” Kipp said. “Just because you’re not there doesn’t mean you’re not taking part.”

  Damian put on a wounded face and acknowledged defeat. The saps bought his ruse and that was all he cared about.

  In a demonstration of good will he gestured towards the map and asked from where Hannah and The Four would be making their entrance and exits.

  “The air conditioning vents,” Kipp answered.

  “Clever,” Damian said, “but have you actually explored where they go?”

  “I checked them out myself. They lead to the roof and a clean escape.”

  “Excellent, but the vents are open now because it’s summer. Can we be sure they’ll be open come February?”

  Ned arched Kipp an inquisitive eyebrow.

  Kipp turned to Darla. “Put that on the check list,” he said. “I seem to recall they are lever operated. If they’re not open, I’ll have a team of strong-armed Standing Liberties there bright and early to make sure they are.”

  “How many Raiders will you have on the rooftop?” Damian asked.

  “Three of our best eagle squadrons,” Darla answered. “Ours, one from the Death Valley base, and one coming all the way from the Big Bend Bullion Base.”

  “Isn’t that a little overkill?” Damian said.

  “That’s just the roof,” Kipp boasted. “We’ll have five more squadrons on the premises. We have Raiders coming as far as the Badlands base.”

  “Eight full squadrons of eagles?”

  “Plus infantry,” Kipp said. “Our best, including a battalion of bell-equipped Ben Franklins let by Harper Half Dollar.”

  Damian said, “But earlier you mentioned no such numbers.”

  “I guess I wasn’t clear,” Darla said. “Those numbers were just for those involved in the actual snatch.”

  “We’re taking no chances this time,” Kipp said.

  “What do you think, Damian?” Ned asked. “This could be our last chance at redeeming Franny. We want to be as prepared as possible for any eventuality.”

  “I’m a little unclear on your part, Four,” Damian said. “Are you and Hannah doing the snatching?”

  “I’m the first one in, yes, but if for some reason we’re unable to make the snag, Kipp will be right on our tail. If Kipp and Erasmus Eagle can’t do it for some reason, then it’s up to Camille Quarter and her eagle Esmeralda.”

  Damian said, “I take it that all these preparations are in case The Six has gotten wind of the operation?”

  “We must assume that he will,” Darla said, “or perhaps already has.”

  “Is our security that poor?” Damian asked. “If so, wouldn’t it be wise to spend more time and resources plugging such leaks?”

  “We do what we can,” Ned replied, “but The Six is a very crafty coin. From what we’ve learned by studying some of his heists, he also seems to have a well-trained and highly disciplined army. His gold coins have strengths and abilities we lack, and he has demonstrated that he is an excellent commander.”

  Damian smirked and shook his head in a show of disagreement. “The Six and his storm troopers are overrated. I agree we shouldn’t underestimate the thug, but we needn’t blow him up into something he isn’t. It’s bad for morale. If he and his coins were so tough they could confront us in the open. Instead, the cowards creep about like the cockroaches they are.”

  Ned clapped Damian on his rim. “I like your spirit, Damian! We need more of it around here.”

  Encouraged by The Four’s unexpected praise, Damian felt compelled to up the ante. “Well,” he said imperially, “I’ve always subscribed to the motto of Alexander the Great, that an army of sheep led by a lion is to be more feared than an army of lions led by a sheep.”

  Darla, who knew Damian’s bombastic quotation was directed at her, ground her teeth.

  Ned, however, turned to Hannah with an approving nod. The half dollar answered The Four’s admiration for the Roosevelt dime with an equally impressed nod of her own, plus a bat of her eyelashes and a coy, dimpled smile for Damian.

  “Tell you what, Damian,” Ned said, “once this mission is over, how about you and I pay a visit to Coin Island and meet with Chief Iron Tail and Deirdre Dime to discuss a command of the Great Lakes base. It’s scheduled to open in March of next year and fills a crucial gap.”

  Damian Dime, who no one thought was capable of a genuine smile, stood at full-beaming attention. He was so thrilled by the offer that the torch on his reverse side went off like a Roman candle.

  The others stifled their laughter at his accidental toots.

  Damian grimaced in embarrassment and cleared his throat. “A side-effect we Roosevelts have with an animated torch and a lot of wampum,” he said.

  “Don’t give it another thought,” Ned rejoined.

  “Anyway,” Damian continued, “even if I don’t get the job, the opportunity to see Coin Island and meet Chief Iron Tail and Deirdre Dime would be honor enough.”

  “You mean you’ve never been?” Ned said with surprise.

  “I don’t even know where it is,” the dime answered, doing his best to hide his resentment.

  “Darla,” Ned scolded, “how is it someone of Damian’s rank has never paid a visit to the island?”

  “The opportunity never arose. You forget, Four, but Deirdre issued an order that the island was closed to new recruits or anyone who had never been there before.”

  Ned turned to Damian with an apologetic frown. “I’m not there often myself,” he said, “and regrettably more and more it seems I’m the last to learn anything.” He gave the dime an encouraging smile. “I’ll have a talk with them. I’m sure for you we can make an exception.”

  “Your word is sterling silver to me, Four. Now, shall we get back to the mission at hand? There are a few more flaws to the plan I think need addressing.”

  It wasn’t often that The Four dropped in on a bullion base these days, but Ned didn’t plan on spending the night at the Grand Canyon base. Operation Jackpot required visiting several base commanders, and he was eager to get back on the road.

  When word got out that The F
our would be leaving without having addressed the troops—most of whom had never met The Four in person—or attending the festivities to be held in his honor, Ned was shamed into staying.

  It was Hannah Half Dollar who changed Ned’s mind for him after she took him aside for a finger-wagging. She reminded him that he was The Four, and whether he fully embraced his destiny or not, every coin on the base was risking his or her life for him.

  Furthermore, having seen the hurt on Darla’s face broke Hannah’s heart. She adored the little dime and knew how insecure she was in her command of the base. How would it look, Hannah told him, if The Four showed up and the camp’s commander was treated with no more respect than a poker chip?

  Duly chastened, Ned apologized. He wondered if he’d ever be able to warm to this chosen-one stuff. After all, other than redeeming coins, what had he really done to demonstrate that he was more special than any other coin? Sure, he was faster, nimbler, and more acrobatic than the others, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with the FOUR CENTS stamped on his reverse side. He believed any coin could achieve such levels of animation if he trained hard enough, tapped into his inner wampum, and learned to become “ambiverstrous,” able to use his or her obverse and reverse sides with equal dexterity.

  Ned had gotten better at handling the devotion of his fellow coins over the years, but it still made him uncomfortable. Adulation embarrassed him, and the cheers of coins made him blush.

  The base’s festivities included drum circles, song and dance, a few speeches, and of course the highlight of every base—sumo-like wrestling matches. The base’s reigning champion, Kipp Quarter, won every contest leading up to the one everyone had been waiting for, a bout between him and The Four.

  Not since Damian Dime’s loss to Pete Penny had the coins seen such abilities and dazzling rim-work as this evening’s tournament.

  Damian grimaced at the comparison. He was used to beating coins two or three times his size, but Hannah Half Dollar eliminated him in the quarterfinals. Hannah usually avoided such contests, but aware of the animosity the arrogant dime had for Darla, she couldn’t resist taking on the runt.