The Dark Planet

by Patrick Carman

  Everyone in the group had a picture in their mind of what they

  thought Atherton looked like. Stories had been handed down

  about how Dr. Harding loved towers and levels and things that

  were round, probably because his earliest memories were of

  the Silo. He had made many models of Atherton, all of them

  with different levels, wider at the bottom and thinner at the top.

  But this thing, this fallen Atherton, looked nothing like what any

  of them had expected.

  "Atherton used to be shaped differently, but then it collapsed in

  on itself," said Edgar, thinking back to the catastrophic events of

  only a year before. "After that it filled with water and all the

  Cleaners were trapped."

  "So there are no Cleaners on Atherton?" asked Landon.

  "We have lots of Cleaners, but they're harmless now," Edgar

  said. "I think these statues represent a series of events,

  probably in the order they occurred."

  "Why do you say that?" asked Vasher, who had been quiet up

  until then, captivated by the intricate carvings of each image.

  "This fourth one is a Cleaner," said Edgar.

  "That's no Cleaner," argued Aggie. "I've seen them and they

  have lots of legs. This one looks more like it swims in the

  water."

  "What's it say?" asked Edgar, seeing words etched in the base

  of the statue.

  "It says 'Transformation of the Cleaner.' But that doesn't make

  sense. It's not a Cleaner."

  "But it is," said Edgar. "This is a Cleaner on Atherton, after it's

  been dumped in the water and left there. They lose their legs

  and most of their teeth. They become a harmless fish."

  "I love Dr. Harding!" said Landon.

  Edgar smiled and continued. "And this happened because of

  the fall of Atherton. So it's in order, you see?"

  Aggie had moved on to the last statue and was looking at it,

  puzzled by what she saw. It was a round ball, completely white,

  with oceans and land marked out in relief.

  "It's the Dark Planet," said Vasher. "Only it's not."

  "What do you mean?" asked Teagan, touching the statue

  against her better judgment.

  "I mean it's not dirty. It's clean," answered Vasher. " Really

  clean."

  "'The Chill of Winter,'" said Aggie, reading the inscription on the

  statue. "I don't think it's white because it's clean. I think it's white

  because it's covered in snow."

  "What's snow?" asked Edgar, who came from a world where

  there was no such thing--nor rain or wind.

  "You really aren't from around here, are you?" said Vasher. He

  had remained unconvinced at some level that Edgar could

  really be from this mythical place called Atherton. Edgar's

  genuineness was starting to win him over.

  "We haven't seen anything like snow or winter in a long time, at

  least not since I've been at the Silo," said Teagan. She tried to

  remember--had she ever seen snow? She'd read about it, seen

  pictures, and maybe even seen videos when she was much

  younger. Everyone else seemed to have the same experience

  of trying to remember what winter felt like.

  "I think we must be seeing these statues in the wrong order,"

  said Edgar, looking back at the gray and black depictions

  around him, then noticing the floor beneath him. "This wintry

  Dark Planet must be first in line, then the rest."

  Edgar fished around for the black disk that controlled the Raven

  and pulled it out. "This floor looks familiar," he said. "I wonder..."

  Edgar gently set the disk on the black surface of the floor, and

  by the time he stood back up the floor was already filling with

  firebugs. They poured forth from under the statues, merging as

  a giant ball of blue light under the floor at the center of the room.

  "What's happening?" asked Aggie. Everyone backed away

  from the middle of the room.

  "What have you done?" said Teagan, petrified by what was

  appearing through the black fog.

  "It's a face!" said Aggie.

  "Not just any face," said Edgar.

  Aggie and the rest didn't know what to make of the dazzling

  blue light. The bugs danced and moved, and there was no

  doubt about it.

  "It's his face," said Edgar. There on the floor, surrounded by

  thick black, was the glowing blue face of Dr. Harding in full

  relief. All the tiny dots moved and pulsated in perfect harmony

  in order to make the mouth begin to move. And not only that-they heard a voice, too.

  "Hello, Edgar! If this floor has been activated it means I have

  succeeded in my long and complicated plan. Bravo!" said the

  glowing blue head of Dr. Harding.

  "Wow," Aggie whispered in awe. "This is the craziest thing I've

  ever seen."

  The head of Dr. Harding ignored her.

  "As I'm recording these words I still haven't told you all of what I

  planned, but I must have succeeded for you to be standing here

  among my things. I'll be brief and to the point, as the firebugs do

  tire after a few minutes of such rigorous thinking."

  Edgar couldn't believe his ears. It was like his father was right

  there in the room with him.

  "I used to love the yards, the place where Dr. Kincaid found

  me," the voice went on. "I was sad for weeks and weeks when I

  couldn't come here any longer. I made this secret place much

  later, or I should say the firebugs made it for me. Amazing little

  creatures when you put them to work on something. They work

  harder than honeybees and do precisely what I tell them. It's a

  very good thing I invented them, or we wouldn't be having this

  last moment together. It's too bad they have to be kept in such

  close quarters so no one gets hurt, but then all my inventions

  seem to have at least one broken part. When I'm gone they'll

  say it was my signature, won't they?

  "A few important details for you now. Once Atherton has been a

  year in its final resting position, it will have completed the...

  what shall I call it? The birthing process, I suppose. Yes, that

  will do. You have only to take the Raven back now. But don't

  forget to bring a big block of powder! You've followed my clues

  well, no doubt, so I'm certain you have it with you."

  The whole green team edged in closer to Dr. Harding, glancing

  at one another knowingly for having figured things out as he'd

  hoped they would.

  "Without the powder block I'm afraid things are going to go from

  bad to worse, so you really must have it with you. You need

  only set the block on the black table inside the Raven.

  "I've kept an eye on the forsaken wood and feel just terrible

  about all the things I abandoned there. It was easy at first, but it

  certainly did get out of hand. A lot of bad inventions roaming

  around that need cleaning up. You may trust that I have this

  problem well in hand. And I've taken the necessary precaution

  to keep you out of the wood unless absolutely necessary. Your

  transportation will be arriving in the yards shortly, so you won't

  need to go find it."

  Everyone smiled at this news, especially Edgar. The Raven
r />   would be waiting right outside! It was beginning to feel like this

  was all going to work.

  "Don't be alarmed when you arrive back on Atherton in a place

  you've never been. It's awkward talking this way--because I

  haven't told you every thing yet--but I must assume I've revealed

  enough since you stand before my glowing blue head. As long

  as you have Gossamer in place, every thing will be fine when

  you get back."

  "He's talking about the black dragon!" Landon exclaimed,

  looking at Edgar. "Hey, wait a minute. You said you'd never

  heard of Gossamer."

  "I haven't," said Edgar. He was suddenly very worried that he

  had failed. If Gossamer was part of the plan it must have been

  spelled out somewhere, but he'd missed it.

  "Gossamer has been patient a long time and will surely be

  excited to get on with things. Do as I have told you and he won't

  harm you. He's especially fond of children and will do anything

  to protect them. My apologies if this gets you into a pinch, but

  Gossamer began, like so many of my creations, as a glimmer in

  my childhood mind. I have it all planned out so that you will

  have written instructions, which you clearly found. Bravo!"

  "We might be okay," said Edgar. "I have two friends on

  Atherton. Hopefully, they've met Gossamer even if I haven't."

  Edgar couldn't believe he'd sent Isabel and Samuel to deal with

  a dragon when he had given them that tablet. It was the only

  place he could think of where the message could have been

  hidden.

  "Gossamer will listen and he is surprisingly intelligent," Dr.

  Harding went on. "That's what you get when you start with a

  human brain. Oh, my. Did I say that? I think it's best we pretend I

  didn't bring it up, don't you?"

  Everyone in the room was entranced by Dr. Harding's voice. He

  was in so many ways still a child himself. There was a sense of

  wonder and good humor in every thing he said. This was the

  man Edgar wanted to remember, not the one gone mad in the

  Highlands, transformed into a terrible ruler, and finally

  redeemed in the end. As he listened to the last of what Dr.

  Harding would say, Edgar noticed the man's voice become

  happy in a different sort of way, as if he was coming to the end

  of something big and tiring and was looking forward to a good

  long nap.

  "I love you more than anything else, Edgar. There is nothing

  else I made that comes close, nothing I loved half as much. You

  were fearfully and wonderfully made in a world gone mad.

  "I have come to accept the reality of my situation. I am a

  scientist and proud of it. Some of what I've done has not turned

  out as I expected, but my aim was always true, and I aimed

  awfully high, didn't I? It would never have been enough to make

  a new world. I aimed for so much more than that. It was a story I

  wanted to tell, one that would captivate the minds of children

  every where, with monsters and dragons and wars aplenty. If

  they wanted a boring time of it, they shouldn't have chosen a

  child to get the job done.

  "Make sure everyone in the Silo is taken care of as I

  mentioned--or will mention, I should say. I really must get my

  timing down or risk forgetting to tell you altogether. These are

  the faulty ways of my mind lately. No matter. You're here now,

  Atherton needs you back, and the time of winter has come. I

  suspect your ride has already arrived above you in the yards.

  Best you be on your way.

  "The story has come to its final chapter. It began in the mind of a

  child, and it will end with a Raven, a dragon, and a storm like no

  other. How stupendous!

  "I am signing off for the last time. Your faithful servant, Max

  Harding."

  The firebugs fell away slowly and Dr. Harding's face began to

  melt. Edgar leaned over and tried to touch the face with his

  hands. The floor was warm where it had been. He could feel the

  humming bugs under black glass as they moved off and

  disappeared beneath the ring of statues.

  "I love you, too," said Edgar, for those were the words that truly

  rang in his head, the words his heart would always remember.

  "You haven't been the father I expected, but I'll never forget you.

  And neither will anyone else."

  There was a rising resolve in Edgar's voice as he said the

  words, and when he stood, everyone in the room could see that

  he was different now. There had always been a sadness about

  Edgar, a loneliness and a questioning that wouldn't go away.

  The feeling was gone, like an outer shell cracked and thrown to

  the ground. Edgar felt free as he never had before. His

  preoccupation with the past had vanished and all at once he

  realized how much energy his long search for answers had

  taken.

  "The Raven is waiting for us up there," said Edgar. He looked at

  all the faces around him and saw the expectancy in their eyes.

  "Are you all ready to see Atherton for yourselves?"

  CHAPTER 26A SPIKER ON THE

  BEACH

  Commander Judix was beside herself with dismay as she

  watched the cluster of dots on the screen in Dr. Harding's

  laboratory.

  The Raven was moving.

  "But this can't be!" she shouted.

  Commander Judix touched the screen and followed along with

  her hand, agitated beyond all reason, wishing she could leap

  from her chair and run to catch the vessel. How could it be

  moving? Edgar must have escaped from the Silo, gone through

  the forsaken wood, and snuck past Shelton and Red Eye. But

  that was all impossible! There was only one way past the

  barrier of electricity, where the transport vehicles passed

  through, and even that way only opened if it was prompted by

  the transport itself.

  "This is madness!" said Commander Judix, her mind racing.

  She had let the first line of defense slip. Cleaners and Spikers

  were warring at the edge of the last line of electricity, crashing

  into it. And all those impacts were draining fuel at an alarming

  rate.

  Commander Judix had thought she would have several days,

  maybe even a week to find the boy, get the key, and make her

  escape, but it was looking like it might only be hours before

  monsters were crawling all over the beach. And now even that

  didn't matter, because the vessel was unexpectedly on the

  move--and she wasn't in it.

  "I won't let it leave without me," she repeated over and over.

  The communication box on the wall crackled to life. It was

  chaos in the engine room, where fuel was converted to

  electricity.

  "Commander! Where are you? We're into our final reserve! We

  need Grammel with that fuel! Where is he?"

  "We've got a breech at nine o'clock!" It was a second voice from

  a different part of Station Seven. "It's alive! It's alive! I repeat, we

  have a live breech at nine o'clock!"

  She couldn't stand the idea of leaving the dot behind, but

  tearing herself away, she rolled quickly to the pillar of books

&nbs
p; and pushed the communication button that would have her

  voice heard in both places at once.

  "How long will the fuel last?" she asked. There was a moment

  of static-filled silence before her answer came in which she

  thought of rolling back to the screen.

  "A day, maybe less. It depends on how many touches we get. It

  takes a lot of fuel to absorb those hits."

  "It's a Spiker that's broken through!" said the second voice. "It's

  on the move!"

  "Commander Judix, what are your orders?"

  The Commander felt physically ill and began to shiver. She

  didn't care about anyone else. Not those who had stayed on at

  Station Seven, not Hope, not the children. There was only her

  and her goal of leaving forever.

  "Assume lockdown positions," she said. "And kill that thing

  before it attacks the station."

  Commander Judix turned off the receiver. Lockdown meant the

  windows would be covered in shields of metal. Metal, metal,

  metal! She hated metal. And she didn't want to hear anything

  more about Cleaners or Spikers or lack of fuel. Commander

  Judix wanted to be left alone as she watched the glowing blue

  dots foretell her doom.

  To her great surprise, when she returned to the screen, the

  cluster of glowing blue dots had stopped. And what was more,

  they appeared to have stopped almost directly on top of the

  laboratory where she sat.

  "What trickery is this?" she said, confounded by this new turn of

  events. And then it crossed her mind that maybe, just maybe,

  this thing had come looking for Dr. Harding. Maybe it had come

  on its own by some forgotten program in an endless loop. It

  could have landed in its usual place, then moved on in search

  of its master.

  "Where are you hiding?" she said. "You're outside, on the roof,

  aren't you?"

  She rolled away from the screen and crossed the laboratory,

  pressing a button on a panel. A door swish ed open and she

  entered a small elevator with masks and goggles hanging here

  and there.

  "The way to Atherton will be there! And the door will be open,

  as it was in the forsaken wood."

  Commander Judix put on a set of goggles and a mask as the

  elevator rose to the roof. When the door swung open again the

  elevator room filled quickly with caustic smog. Looking this way

  and that, she desperately hoped to see the vessel awaiting her

  arrival. But it was nowhere. There were only glass rooms filled