Diego and the Rangers of the Vastlantic

by Armand Baltazar

  The captain looked at Santiago and nodded. “Good luck, old friend.”

  “And to you, Aleksandr.”

  “Diego,” Santiago said, “go help your captain. I need that device. Hurry now, son. I’ll have to drop that bomb and get clear of the blast—so no time to lose.”

  “Okay,” Diego said, and he followed the captain, but he paused at the hatch and turned to see Santiago approaching Lucy, who had come down to the aft deck to look for her family.

  They stayed like that for just long enough that Diego started to worry.

  Diego saw tears at the edges of Lucy’s eyes.

  “Diego!” the captain called from the stairwell. “Let’s go!”

  “One sec!” Diego turned to follow, but then he saw his mother climbing aboard the John Curtis with Ajax, who had retrieved her with a longboat. “Mom!” He waved. She was up onto the deck when a flash of movement distracted her. Diego saw it, too.

  Santiago was getting into Seahorse, untying the tether and pushing the bot away from the John Curtis. But where was he going?

  “Dad, what are you doing?” Diego yelled. Instinct took over, his feet moving on their own. His eyes locked with his mom’s, and then she was running, too.

  They reached the rail together.

  Diego stepped back, pulling free of his mom, and activated his radio. “Dad!” he called into the static.

  “Diego,” Santiago’s voice crackled. “Be strong, son . . . follow your own path.”

  “Dad, wait!” The radio crackled. “Come back!”

  “How . . . can I?” he asked, knowing there would be no answer.

  “Santi . . . ,” Siobhan whispered.

  “Dad.” Diego stared at the radio.

  Silence.

  A geyser of water shot skyward. Massive waves rippled out of the epicenter, crashing over the sides of the John Curtis and swamping the decks. The water bubbled and roiled with huge, foam-topped waves.

  Diego toppled to his back. He reached for the railing, only to be thrown back the other way by the waves emanating out of the disturbance. Diego collided with Ajax, hit the wall, then finally got his feet underneath him and lunged for the railing. He pulled himself up and looked over the side.

  “Dad!” Diego shouted, scanning the water helplessly. He had to come back. Had to . . .

  Something glimmered beneath the waves. Diego leaned up on his toes. There was a light, deep beneath the blue, glowing brighter. Through the watery blur Diego saw lines, glinting metal, glassy reflections . . . Seahorse’s canopy!

  But as the light grew brighter, Diego saw that this was something else. Buildings, shining in sunlight, somehow beneath the waves, like he was looking through a window at a city, a vast, futuristic metropolis. It had majestic towers, arcing monorail tracks, everything sleek and—for a moment the image crystalized into monuments of glass and steel that pierced the surface of the water . . .

  And then it was gone. A shimmering flicker. Diego blinked and shook his head. What had he just seen? Had the explosion caused it, or had his mind been playing tricks on him? And yet, it hardly mattered. It hadn’t been Seahorse. Hadn’t been his dad. The water was dark again, unknowable and cold, no sign of life beneath its surface.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Path and the Promise

  Diego can see it: he stands with his father, leaning against the railing on the roof of a towering skyscraper. As the sun sets, buildings cast long shadows over the city, and pulsing gas lamps flicker to life, rimming the dark sea. The ocean breeze caresses his face, bringing its salt-and-diesel smell.

  “When I was your age,” Santiago says, “this building was called the Sears Tower. It was the tallest in the world, and in my time, that was an accomplishment of great importance.

  “As time passed,” Santiago says, “another tower was built in a different part of the world, one even bigger and grander than this. And then another.”

  “Who built the biggest tower?” Diego asks. “Was it the Elders? Their towers on the other side of the city dwarf this one.”

  Santiago smiles at Diego. “The tallest building hasn’t been built yet, son. . . . Can you imagine it, though? Taller than the Elders’, taller than anything ever imagined before. Perhaps even so tall that it would touch the rim of the sky. Close your eyes.”

  Diego does.

  “Can you see it? Can you see what it would need?”

  Diego imagines a great structure. “Lots of men, and robots,” he says, “and so much glass and steel and hard work. It would take years to build, but”—the form grows in his mind’s eye—“it would be so beautiful!”

  Santiago’s hand falls on Diego’s shoulder. “Yes, it certainly is.” Diego glances up and sees that his father’s eyes are closed now, too. “And more amazing than anything I ever imagined. Do you want it to be real?” Santiago asks. “This tower of yours.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  Diego looks around, but there is still only the setting sun across the city below. “For a moment I thought it might be here,” he says.

  “It’s here,” Santiago says. He touches Diego’s forehead. “This is where it lives. Its promise.” He touches Diego’s chest. “And here is where you’ll find your path.” Santiago smiles. “Follow it through to the end, no matter what. This is what is in the heart of every man or woman who has ever built a tower, or conquered a mountain, or changed the world.”

  “Do you ever miss the world you came from?” he asks his dad. “Some people think it was better.”

  Santiago sighs. “Sometimes I miss a street corner, or a restaurant. There were these hot dogs from Portillo’s that, oh man . . .” He laughs. “But, no. The only world I want to live in is this one, because you and your mother are in it. That was my world. But here, this is ours.”

  Diego’s eyes opened. The dark bled away, and the warmth of light poured through the window in their room. He was in Arkhipov Castle. It was dawn.

  He was surprised he’d slept. Yesterday had seemed like it would never end. Dad . . . every time he thought of it, the sight of Seahorse submerging, the fleeting glimpse of the future made by the quantum explosion. He kept telling himself it was impossible, that his dad couldn’t be gone. But he was.

  So Diego could live.

  But now Diego had to live without him.

  “Hey, D.” Petey stood nearby, lacing up his boots. “You had a good dream, it sounded like.” He spoke carefully. “I got back from the shower, and as I was getting dressed, you said something in your sleep. ‘It would touch the stars.’”

  “Yeah,” Diego said. It had felt so real, being there on the building top with his father. He wanted to go there again.

  Diego sat up. “What are our duties?”

  “The captain is showing the Emersons around the island. Ajax is unloading gear. There’s going to be a ceremony later tonight.”

  “Oh, right,” Diego said.

  “Balsamic says we have the day free. What do you want to do?”

  Diego got dressed. “Actually, Petey, I’ve got something in mind.”

  “Sure, whatever you want.”

  “I’ve got a project I want to do, over in the hangar. Feel like joining me and Redford?”

  “That sounds great.”

  When they finished hours later, Diego heard his mother and Lucy over by Sea Fury, talking about flying. The captain and the Emersons were discussing various machines. Diego sent Redford and Petey looking for fuel. Wiping his hands on a grimy rag, he joined his mom.

  “I can’t believe you flew so well when you were sixteen,” Lucy was saying. She glanced over her shoulder, toward the sound of her father’s voice, and lowered her own. “How in the world did you convince your parents to let you become a pilot?”

  “I didn’t tell them until it was too late.” Siobhan turned and opened her arms. “Diego.” As he moved in for a hug, he saw his mom trying to keep up a smile.

  Diego hugged her hard.

 
“What have you been up to?” she said, her lips against his hair.

  “A little project. You guys want to see?”

  “Actually, the captain wants me to explain some of Santiago’s designs to the engineers. Best as I can anyway. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Captain Ribera . . .” Lucy’s face had gotten pink.

  “What is it, darling?”

  “I, um, I found this, in your old trainer plane. I believe this belongs to you.”

  “My other lucky chopstick. I thought it was lost. Thank you.” Her eyes welled up. “Santi gave me these before my first mission, and said they would bring me luck.”

  Diego put his arm around her. “They did, Mom.”

  Siobhan nodded. She hugged Diego fiercely. “Show me your new machine later, okay?” She turned back to Lucy. “This one belongs to you now, young warrior. It’s your lucky battle charm.” She placed it in Lucy’s hand and closed the girl’s fingers around it. “May it keep you safe.”

  Lucy and Diego headed back to the shop. “Petey told me you finally got some sleep,” she said.

  “Yeah.” Diego didn’t want her to ask anything more about how he was doing, and she didn’t. “Okay,” he said as they rounded the corner, “Redford, Petey . . . here we come!”

  “Diego, it’s magnificent!”

  “I never could have done it without Petey and Redford,” Diego said.

  “We were essential,” Petey said, except he was shaking his head side to side.

  “And what, pray tell, is this?” George Emerson had walked over to them.

  “Diego made it,” Lucy said, her smile fading. “He’s an amazing builder, just like his father.”

  Diego tensed. He wondered if George would dare speak ill of Santiago given the circumstances.

  “An impressive toy,” George said. “Perhaps the flying circus is in your future.”

  Diego pictured his dad hitting George in the mouth and smiled. “Actually, it’s not for me,” Diego said.

  “Either way,” George said. “I came to find you, Lucy. We’ll rejoin the other engineers now. Come along.”

  “I’d rather stay here,” Lucy said.

  “Young lady, bite your tongue and bow your head! This foolish adventure has earned you no right to be insolent.”

  Diego saw Lucy’s fists balled tight. He wondered if she’d stage a full revolt.

  But she gave Diego an apologetic glance. “Yes, Daddy,” she said in her iciest tone, and walked away.

  “Man,” Diego said, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “That guy’s a real—”

  Redford blew a puff of steam.

  Diego smiled. “You said it, Redford.”

  “What did he say?” Petey asked.

  “He told me I’m not allowed to repeat it.”

  “Whoa, Redford!” Petey shouted, and slapped a high five on his metal leg. “You’ve been spending too much time with Paige!”

  Diego laughed. It didn’t last long, but it felt good.

  At dusk, everyone gathered in the map room. All the windows and doors had been thrown open wide. A chilly breeze whispered around them, laced with the smell of salt. They stood around the large map table. Two maps were laid out, and atop them stood two brass candlesticks. One candle was lit, the other was not. Once everyone had arrived, they looked to the captain.

  “We stand together at this day’s end to wish our fallen comrades safe passage as they cross over to distant, unknown shores. May they find peace knowing that the world they fought for remains and that we will honor their sacrifices.”

  The captain held out an arrow to Siobhan and Diego. “For a husband, father, and comrade.”

  Siobhan nodded for Diego to take it.

  The captain held out another arrow. “For our brother in arms, second pilot, navigator, and deck officer who had no equal.”

  Captain Wallace stepped forward and took the lit candle from the table. He led everyone outside to the balcony, where Ajax waited, holding a large bow.

  As the flaming arrow sailed into the dark, Captain Boleslavich spoke softly: “We all come from the fire. We burn bright, each of us an ember sent high, to shine our light as long as we can.” The falling flame arced downward and winked out against the midnight-blue water.

  The captain lit the second arrow and handed it to Ajax. He let it go with a sharp snap of the bow. It hissed as it traveled and joined the other at the bottom of the cove.

  They stepped back inside. The captain lit the second candle with the first and blew out the first one.

  “Diego,” the captain said. “Come here.”

  Diego stepped closer, and the captain motioned to the map before him. It was newly drawn.

  “Please read the inscription at the top,” the captain said.

  Diego looked it over for a moment, then read:

  “A world to be found. A world to be made.

  And what is made shall never be unmade.

  We fight together. We fight for each other.

  To the very last, till the very end.

  We’ve come far and will go farther still.

  So say the Rangers of the Vastlantic.”

  As Diego read, the words burned into his heart. This was his mission now, too. His fight.

  “Diego,” the captain said. “You and your friends are hereby recognized by the Vanguard as our own. This map belongs to you as a reminder of your vow.”

  “There’s no title on this map. Why?”

  “It is your map of the world, and it is up to you, the Rangers, to fill in the blank spaces as you find your way in it.”

  He picked up a quill and dipped it into a small ink jar. “In memory of the fallen at Yorktown, we hereby dedicate ourselves anew.” He handed the pen to Diego and motioned to a corner of the map.

  One by one, they all signed.

  “Thank you, sir,” Paige said.

  “All right,” George suddenly burst out. “I’ve had enough of this . . . indoctrination!” He grasped at Lucy’s wrist as she held the quill to sign. “You may fight for what is right, Captain Boleslavich, but you shamelessly bend the lives of those too young to know otherwise to your will. And I won’t have it for my daughter! She will not be one of your so-called Rangers. She is a child and a proper young lady, made for a decent and honorable life. You will not take those things from her.”

  “Father,” Lucy protested. “I was not made to be anything except me! And this is what I want!”

  “Nonsense! What do you know of what you want? This man, these boys, have been filling your head with foolishness. Thank heavens I found you in time. The sooner we’re away from this, the better.” George took Lucy by the arm. “Captain,” he said, calming his voice, “we support your cause, but we will not be party to it with our blood.”

  “You may not have a choice,” the captain said. “All this was only the beginning.” The captain saluted Lucy.

  “That’s enough theatrics,” George said. “Come, Lucy.”

  But Lucy yanked her arm free.

  “Lucy. Now.”

  Lucy looked at her feet, then at her friends. Her eyes were red and full of tears. She leaned toward Paige and whispered something into her ear. Then her eyes found Diego again.

  He almost called to her, almost held out his hand.

  But Lucy turned away and stepped to her father’s side.

  Diego watched her go, feeling his fragile resolve slipping. His heart sank as she left the room. He nearly ran after her, but his mother’s hand fell on his shoulder. “Two brave souls such as you are bound to meet again.” Then she leaned to his ear and whispered, “We’ll make sure of it.”

  With the ceremony completed, the Vanguard and the Mapmakers talked tactics. Wallace planned to bring the engineers and the Emersons back on the Magellan first thing in the morning, and also to update Magistrate Huston. The captain, Ajax, and Siobhan were forming a plan to find Magnus. It was all interesting, but Diego couldn’t pay attention.

  “Hey.”

&n
bsp; Diego turned to find Paige beside him. “What?”

  “Message from Lucy. She told me to tell you to meet her at turtle beach, wherever that is.”

  Diego nodded. “When? Now?”

  “No, fool. After lights-out. So don’t fall asleep or nothing.”

  “I won’t.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  One Destiny Divided

  Diego sat in the sand looking up at the stars. He heard Lucy’s footsteps approaching, but when he turned, he was surprised by what he saw.

  “I know,” she said with a shrug. She wore the same proper Victorian dress she’d had on when they’d left on their adventure. “But it will be bad enough if Father catches me out here, and even worse if I’m still in”—she mocked him with a deep, stern voice—“‘those outrageous and highly inappropriate pirate uniforms!’”

  “Your buccaneer’s hat probably pushed him over the edge.” Diego laughed, but only for a moment. “I can’t believe you’re leaving in the morning.”

  “Yeah.” She didn’t add anything else.

  Somewhere in the distance, a pteranodon called.

  “Where will you go?” Diego asked.

  “Back to New Chicago for a month or so, until the summer storm season passes. And then off to merry olde London.”

  “Taken back to prison, more like,” Diego said.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Couldn’t you stay longer?” Diego asked.

  “Father’s had enough of New Chicago.” She took his hand.

  Diego sighed. “He’s being a real jerk.”

  “Careful,” Lucy said. “The old Lucy Emerson would box your ears for that kind of comment.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I always knew this was how he would feel. Silly me to ever hope that he might be able to change.”

  “He has no idea how amazing his daughter really is,” Diego said. He gave her hand a squeeze. She laughed and leaned into his shoulder. But her laugh faded quickly.