by Matt London
When they reached the docking bay, a small Winter-pole shuttle was coming in for a landing. It touched down, and the hatch opened. A pale, skinny boy with slick black hair emerged. He had Rick with him, in handcuffs.
“Rick!” Evie ran to them. “What are you doing here?”
“I came here to rescue you,” Rick explained as the other boy reached for the icetinguisher on his belt.
“Waaark!” 2-Tor leaped forward, knocking the boy to the ground. The icetinguisher slid across the floor. “No one is going to bother my children any more today!”
“2-Tor!” Rick stared in disbelief. “What happened to you?”
The bird looked down at his metal body. “Believe me when I confess it is a very long story.”
“Yup! Time for that later,” Evie said. “We gotta get out of here.”
“Great.” Rick held up the handcuffs. “The keys to these are on Benjamin’s shuttle. We can take that to get home.”
“Good idea,” Evie said, leading him and 2-Tor aboard. While 2-Tor found the key and freed Rick, Evie powered up the engine and took off. She flew toward the dreadnought’s open mouth.
“You can’t escape, Lanes!” Benjamin was hanging from the hovership’s entry door, icetinguisher in hand.
“Man, this dude is persistent,” Evie complained, rocking the ship side to side to try to shake him off. But Benjamin grabbed hold of the door handle and climbed aboard.
“Evie, look out!” Rick cried, shoving Benjamin as he fired his weapon. Evie dodged the blast, but it struck the pilot’s console, freezing the controls.
The hovership careened out of the dreadnought and tumbled down, toward the surface. The four passengers flew around the spiraling cockpit. Evie fell against the console. It stung her hands to touch the frozen controls. She punched the flight wheel, trying to shatter the chemically formed ice locking it in place. Crack. She hit the wheel again. Crack. Through the viewport, the ground was coming up fast.
Smash! On the third hit, the ice shattered, and Evie pulled up on the controls as hard as she could. The others dropped to the floor as the hovership leveled off. But it was coming in too fast. The hovership slammed into the main boulevard, but the rapidly deteriorating rock cushioned their fall.
Smoke billowed from the wrecked console. While Benjamin struggled to his feet, Evie helped Rick and 2-Tor up, and they escaped the hovership.
People fled New Miami in a panic. Streams of Anti-Eden Compound flowed through the streets. Careful not to step in the silver puddles, Evie led the way across the city.
“Come on, children,” 2-Tor instructed. “Hold on to me. I will whisk us out of here with a quick flight.”
Rick and Evie grabbed 2-Tor around the middle. The bird raised his metal wings and prepared for liftoff.
“LANES!!!” roared Benjamin. He aimed his icetinguisher and fired another blast. The blue goop spattered 2-Tor’s wings, freezing them into brittle slabs.
“I say, it appears I am stuck.”
“Unflappable as usual, 2-Tor. Now come on, run!” Evie sprinted across the wobbly terrain.
Benjamin pulled the trigger again. Click. He was out of freeze gel. He tossed the weapon aside and gave chase.
At the edge of the city, one of the bombs had shot a geyser of Anti-Eden Compound sideways, forming a river that cut a deep ravine with slopes of garbage up either side.
“We have to get across,” Rick said.
“Okay, we’ll jump.” Evie ran down the slope of the ravine, hopping from garbage bag to garbage bag like they were stepping-stones. Rick and 2-Tor followed her across, the latter looking quite silly with his frozen blue wings jutting out of him.
The ground rumbled. Evie’s foot sank into the dirt, which had turned to the consistency of marshmallows. She saw moldy bread and broken lightbulbs and, yes, even half-eaten marshmallows. Rick grabbed her and pulled her free, like plucking a big carrot from the earth. “I got you,” he said. “You’re okay.”
“Lanes, help!” Benjamin was trapped, standing on a bag of trash while the river of Anti-Eden Compound split on either side of him.
He was a huge jerk, but Evie couldn’t just leave him exposed to the Anti-Eden Compound. After seeing its effects, she wouldn’t wish that fate on anybody. From the far bank, she crept down to the river’s edge. “I’m coming!” she said.
Upstream, the bomb burst, pouring a wave of Anti-Eden Compound into the river. With a roar of sound, the wave overtook Benjamin, engulfed him, and swept him away.
“Whoa,” Evie gasped, horrified. But then, squish, her foot sank into the ground again.
“Evie!” Rick cried, running down the bank to save her.
“Wait, Rick, don’t come!” But it was too late. The ground all around them had turned into a roiling pool of trash, and Rick sank up to his waist. He reached out for Evie. She grabbed his hand, but as they pulled they only managed to sink deeper. The garbage was almost up to their shoulders.
“Children!” 2-Tor squawked. “Do not despair! I shall waddle for help at the speediest of clips.” The ground beneath 2-Tor’s feet gave out, and he sank as well, surrounded by balled-up plastic grocery bags. “Waark! Foiled by pollution!”
They didn’t have much time left. The eighth continent had been garbage before the Eden Compound transformed it, and now it was garbage once again. Sinking into a vast sea of smelly trash seemed like a pretty terrible end to their adventure, but if these minutes were to be their last, Evie wanted to set things right.
“Rick, I’m so sorry. I ruined everything.”
Under the surface of the trash soup, Rick found her hands and squeezed them tightly. “No, Evie, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I didn’t trust you when I should have. I’m no good as a leader without you. We need to work together.”
Evie looked around at the garbage that had risen up to their necks. “Yeah, sure . . . I’ll make a mental note of that and jot it down in my self-improvement journal.”
Rick raised his chin so it wouldn’t touch the grime. “I’m serious, Evie, if we get out of this mess, we can’t let the continent be a dictatorship. We need to serve the people of this continent together, Evie. As a team.”
“I thought you hated me.”
“Hated you? I came all the way here to rescue you. But then I was the one who needed rescuing. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“Sure, no problem. Glad I could save you.” Evie grimaced. This was it. One more breath, and then she’d be under the surface.
“I love you, sis.”
“I love you too, bro!”
Evie closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.
“Yeehaw! There them smelly varmints are!”
Above their heads, a tree and a silver bird swooped across the sky. It was Mom and Dad in the Condor, and Sprout and Professor Doran in the Roost. Their parents went after the dreadnought, chasing the big Mastercorp shark away from the coast, while their beloved tree flew low and dropped a vacuum, slurping up Evie, Rick, and 2-Tor.
“Ugggccccch . . .” Evie groaned as she landed on the deck of the storage hold. “That smell is like Gorgonzola cheese cosplaying as a sewer.”
Rick gagged. “It’s like a skunk brushed its teeth with brown guacamole.”
Evie would have retched at Rick’s description if she hadn’t already been retching at the smell. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hoo-wee!” Sprout fanned the stench away with his cowboy hat as he arrived in the storage hold. “Y’all smell worse than a desert outhouse.”
Together, Rick and Evie said, “We know!”
The cell doors slammed shut with a humbling clang. Vesuvia dropped to the floor of the barren room, wailing in misery. “Why are you putting me in here?! There isn’t even a bed. Just this horrible slab. It’s cruel, I tell you. Let me out!”
Vesuvia’s mother did no
t look like she was about to listen to her daughter’s protestations. Her face was a tapestry of disappointment and disgust. “You betrayed us. You ruined our plan. You’ve cost Mastercorp millions. Formal charges will be filed against you in short order. In the meantime, enjoy your probation.”
“Mommy . . . please!” Vesuvia begged.
“Don’t call me that,” the woman said. She smoothed her hair against her head and left.
Back at the Lane settlement, Rick and Evie rushed to their parents’ arms as soon as they disembarked from the Condor. Through all the happy tears of joy and relief, Evie babbled, “Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I ruined everything.”
“Nonsense, my darling dear.” Dad patted her on the head. “We’ve got lots to fix up, and you’re going to have more work to do than anyone, but we’ll be better too.”
“That’s right!” Mom agreed. “We’ll listen. You deserve to have a say in things. And we’ll make this continent the best one ever.”
Rick squeezed into the family hug. At last, they were back together. And although there was much to do before things were normal again (or at least the Lanes’ wacky definition of normal), Evie was home safe.
A loud rustling of trees drew their attention to the edge of the jungle. Large crowds of refugees were arriving from the destroyed New Miami. The Lanes would need to rebuild, all right, bigger and better than before.
Sprout and Professor Doran happily reported that the reconstruction process had already begun. More hollow-tree seeds were being transferred to the eighth continent from the professor’s farm. The settlers were hard at work cleaning what remained of the old settlement and adding new structures. They may have failed to acquire the certificate of occupancy, and Rick may have lost the Ultimate Continent Ownership Form, but that wasn’t going to stop them from building the paradise of their dreams. Even if it wouldn’t be a society where everyone was free to come and live, at least they would be together as a family.
But a non-Lane had taken over the struggling settlement in their absence, a shade-wearing, beat-dropping, bass-thumping maniac by the name of Tristan Ruby. When the settlers took breaks from their work, they would crowd around the portable DJ station Tristan had set up and dance to his music.
“Who’s this weirdo?” Evie asked, inspecting the scene.
Rick explained all the trouble he’d had with the party planner while Evie was away. “He’s the absolute worst. I haven’t been able to get him to follow orders. Maybe you know how to put a stop to his troublemaking.”
Evie dusted off her hands and walked closer. “Never fear, Ricky-poo, I’m on it.”
Tristan raised his glasses to get a better look at Evie. “Well, hey! Look at that. A little dudette.”
Evie planted her feet and shook her hips, waving her arms in the air, dancing madly. Rick covered his face, embarrassed.
“Cool jams!” Evie said, dancing closer to Tristan. “I love this.”
“Aww, thanks, little dudette. Happy to cheer you up. Nice moves.”
“I do my best! So listen, a huge island of trash is floating off the west coast that used to be New Miami. Rick thinks the eighth continent may have lost more than ten percent of its total land area. We have to mount a massive cleanup effort pronto. Plus, there’s a lot of work to do on the settlement, so workers are going to need to stay focused on that. We should cool it with the dance parties for a while.”
“Sorry, the party can’t ever stop.”
“But everyone is going to need to chip in, even you, mister.”
“No kidding?” Tristan raised his eyebrows over the rims of his glasses.
“Not even a little bit.”
“But my music can’t be held back.”
Evie smiled. “You’ll still get to host your parties. It’ll be great for keeping morale up, but no more late-night dancefests. We have to stay focused on the important tasks at hand.”
“No way. I don’t need any of your silly rules. My peeps gotta cut loose!” Tristan responded.
Evie nodded like an enlightened martial arts master. Something about her was different, and Rick liked it. “You say you don’t need our rules, but if you don’t participate, then you can’t get any of the benefits our settlement provides.”
“Don’t need none of those, neither!” Tristan said.
“Oh really? When your sound system runs out of juice, you recharge your batteries with our generators. You eat our food, you sleep in our shelters. You host your dance parties in the buildings we built. I’d say you need plenty of the things we provide.”
“Yeah, but . . . well, I . . .”
“That’s what I thought.” Evie grinned victoriously. “Work with us, and we’ll make sure you have rocking dance parties for a long, long time.”
Tristan Ruby extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, little dudette. Welcome home.”
Returning to the crowd of family members, Evie winked at her brother. “See? Easy as asking nicely.”
The deep, loud horn of a dump truck promptly ended their conversation. The hefty vehicle rumbled through the jungle, squeezed between two big trees, and parked in front of Rick and Evie. The back of the dump truck was filled with more paperwork than Rick had ever seen.
Diana hopped out of the cab of the truck and rushed over to her friends. “Hi, everyone! I have a surprise for you.”
She turned back to the truck, and Mister Snow stepped down from the driver’s side.
Everyone got tense. Mister Snow had put Dad away at the Prison at the Pole. Rick was still sore from his cyber paper battle at the Winterpole complex.
“Hello . . .” Mister Snow said with an awkward wave. In the warm sunlight, he looked full of starch in his glacier-white suit. “Greetings, fellow citizens of the eighth continent.”
“Diana, what are you doing?” Rick asked worriedly. “Why is he here?”
“Why?” Mister Snow’s mouth curled into a sneer. “I’m here because I have temporarily suspended my sizable reservations and considerable dislike for you and your family. Junior Agent Maple has made a compelling case for your continued inhabitance of this fledgling continent. After careful consideration, in concordance with my duties as Senior Winterpole Official in Charge of the Eighth Continent, I have deemed the Lane settlement fit for a certificate of occupancy.”
“What?!” Rick asked in disbelief.
Evie hung on his arm. “You’re serious?”
“As serious as a slippery floor with inadequate caution signage, young lady. But with a few provisos. Please see the attached four-million-page document.” Mister Snow gestured toward the mountain of paperwork in the back of the truck. “The important thing is that you may start inviting new citizens to come right away. Winterpole will be present to monitor your progress and ensure that everything you do comes with the appropriate permission slip. Miss Maple has volunteered to be your permanent liaison. She’s one of our most promising young agents. I don’t envy you, having a stickler like her around.”
Rick stifled a laugh as Diana flashed him the least subtle wink he had ever seen.
Mister Snow adjusted his tie. “There’s one other caveat that is not mentioned in any of the paperwork.”
“Are you sure?” Evie asked, inspecting the overflowing truck bed. “Because it looks like pretty much everything is mentioned in there.”
Ignoring her, Mister Snow said, “We have to deal with our mutual adversary. Mastercorp is in gross violation of Winterpole statutes, constructing weapon-manufacturing facilities in unmonitored territory. Once they repair the damages to their dreadnought, they will return for more devious activities. We may call upon Lane Industries to help us put a stop to them.”
“Of course! Anything we can do to help!” Dad said with a big grin, extending his hand.
Mister Snow hesitated. Diana nudged him. He leaned forward and gracio
usly shook the hand of his old nemesis.
The deal was sealed. Rick was elated. He had his home. He had his family. And for the moment, he had the greatest thing any of them could have asked for. Peace.
CONSCIOUSNESS REGAINED. OUTSIDE STIMULI OVERWHELMING SENSORS. REDUCING OPTICS, SONAR, AND TACTILE RECEPTORS TO TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT. ADJUST APERTURE. SIT UP. SIT UP. SIT UP.
Benjamin lurched. His mission was a failure. The Lanes had escaped.
Mastercorp had left him behind, left him to die, drown in the filth and trash that surrounded him, the wrecked ruins of New Miami. He swore he would get his revenge on them, just as soon as he got his revenge on the Lanes.
Why did he feel so heavy? He could barely move. He could barely see—just a silvery blur in front of his eyes. He moved away from where he’d woken up, lumbering like Frankenstein’s monster. As his vision cleared, he discovered he was at the edge of a river of Anti-Eden Compound, near the shore.
New Miami had disintegrated into trash. Returned to its original state, this large island of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch had drifted offshore. The rest of the continent remained the tropical paradise it had become.
Benjamin reached the water and knelt down.
AQUATIC HAZARD DETECTED. DEPLOY HYDRO-PHOBIC SEALANT.
What was that? A voice in his head? Benjamin winced. It felt like the voice was shouting directly into his ear. And then he felt this pressure all through his body. Shaking it off, he dipped his hands into the water—he wanted to splash water on his face.
Benjamin stopped short. Gauntlets. He was wearing silver gauntlets. They were thick metal with clawed fingertips, nasty things. He could stab straight through a side of meat with these. But hold that thought. First, water.
He splashed the water on his face. KA-DONG!
Benjamin froze. He caressed his cheeks and nose. Something didn’t feel right, even with the gauntlets. Crawling on his hands and knees, he splashed into the water and waited for the ripples to settle. He stared at his reflection. That face. That metal, lifeless face. Like a silver skull, with eyes like agonized lava.
