The Amazing Adventures of 4¢ Ned (Coinworld: Book Two)

by Benjamin Laskin

  Ned’s Raiders had been outmatched. The gold eagles were faster and more agile in the air, and the enemy’s infantry demonstrated superior moves and strength on the ground. More work was needed. If the coins were going to be future base commanders, then they had to up their game.

  Ned, the chief, Two Loons, Hannah and Harper Half Dollars, Camille Quarter, and Darla Dime understood that this applied to them as well. Simply being skilled enough to infiltrate collectors’ homes was not going to cut it. Everything was different now. As The Four said, saving Coinworld had become a lot more complicated.

  Having come so close to redeeming Franny only to lose her again frustrated Ned to his metallic core. All that planning for nothing. And to lose her to coins, too!

  Who were those coins, and how did they even know about the mission? And why Franny? What was she to them? A collector wanting her he could understand, but other coins? It made no sense.

  Rather than mope, however, Ned channeled his anger into his training. If he was ever to meet them again—and he felt certain he would—next time was going to be different. Oh, sure, the enemy was probably training hard too. As bad as Raider losses were, the other side suffered even more casualties, thanks mostly to the chief, Two Loons, and Harper Half Dollar. Wherever and whenever the next clash was to occur, Ned assumed it would be even fiercer than the last.

  After making sure they weren’t being followed and the Raiders returned to Coin Island, Darla and the chief were conspicuously quiet.

  At first, Ned thought it was the sour taste of defeat in their mouths, but then he wondered. He felt certain that each was hiding something from him, but he had no idea what it could be. Like Deirdre, they seemed to blame themselves, but for different reasons.

  The heavy air that had settled upon the island and its morale needed a stiff breeze. He told Darla, the chief, and Brave Two Loons to meet him at Coinhenge for a powwow.

  He also told Deirdre Dime, but she said she was too busy. Ned understood Deirdre’s obsession and didn’t press her. He told her that if any new information or idea emerged from the powwow he’d report back to her later.

  Darla Dime required no persuading. Her suspicions had been eating her up inside. A big-hearted and trusting Mercury dime who had never encountered deceit in her life, the last thing Darla ever wanted to be thought of was a tattletale. She kicked herself for not having spoken up earlier, but at the time she didn’t believe it was her place.

  Prior to the mission, Darla had no concrete evidence for her mistrust, only her intuition. Nothing had changed in that respect either. But now there were cold coins in the field—a term they used for lost, mutilated, or deactivated coins—and she wondered if they’d still be bucking if she had been more forthright with her suspicions.

  “Damian Dime?” Two Loons said with surprise. “He’s a hero to many coins around here. He discovered torching. Why would someone who made such a big contribution to improving something as vital as communications work to undermine us?”

  “I don’t know,” Darla answered, “and I don’t even like thinking it, but I have to get it off my chest. Damian is an excellent commander as you say, but there’s something about the Roosevelt dime that doesn’t add up.”

  “And you’re sure it has nothing to do with your rivalry?” Two Loons asked.

  Despite his tone carrying no accusation, Darla’s gazed dropped to the ground before her.

  “I’m aware it could appear that way,” Darla acknowledged, ashamed. She lifted her eye and addressed Two Loons. “If you or any of the others believe I’m out of line, I will resign my post without protest. I’d rather lose my position as commander of the Grand Canyon base than feel responsible for another cold coin because I was too afraid to speak my mind.”

  Ned rolled over to Darla and put a comforting rim around her. “No one is blaming you for anything, and no one is getting demoted.”

  Chief Iron Tail, who had been leaning against one of Coinhenge’s stone pillars, approached Darla. “I want the whole megillah, Darla. These suspicions of yours, were they based on anything the dime did or said?”

  “Specifically, no Sir. But he had some strange habits and really liked his privacy.”

  “We all have our quirks,” Ned said, “and I too like some privacy now and then.”

  “Sure,” Darla said, “but Damian seems to go to great lengths for his. For instance, like every base we have a CBS, but Damian prefers the creek, even though doing so requires a hike to get there. It’s secluded and he accesses it usually in the early morning or late at night. I followed him there twice. He spoke in whispers so I couldn’t make out what he said, but I found it odd.”

  “Did you question him about it?” Two Loons asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Our relationship is fragile as is, and I put my base’s morale over my suspicions. After all, who would he be speaking to? To Coin Island or another base, that’s all.”

  “Anything else?” Ned asked.

  “He often wandered off by himself, again usually in early morning hours or late at night. I figured at the time that he was communing with nature or wanted to train alone, but now I wonder.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Two Loons said.

  “Yes, except I noticed he did so each time after staring up at the sky, as if he was looking for a signal of some kind.”

  “What kind of signal?” Ned asked.

  Darla shrugged. “I’m not sure, but once I could have sworn I saw him leave after something tiny, glittering, and gold had appeared just over one of the surrounding cliffs. When he thought no one was looking, he headed off in that direction. But like I say, I wasn’t sure what I had seen.”

  Two Loons said, “Maybe it was just a twinkling star.”

  “This thing moved with precision and, it seemed to me, with deliberation.”

  “Perhaps it was just one of the bases eagles,” Ned said.

  “I thought of that, but I checked base logs and no flights had been scheduled. Also, I know what a silvery eagle looks like in the light of the moon. What I saw had a distinct golden tint. I might have been seeing things, sure. But why did Damian have a preoccupation with that part of the night sky?”

  Two Loons chewed it over, but his expression told that he was still not convinced. Two Loons didn’t think Damian’s doings were all that strange. He’d been living with his tribe of nickel braves and Lincoln pennies for decades, and he knew many of them to display all sorts of curious behaviors, and all the more so since they had become fully activated.

  “And there’s another thing,” Darla offered.

  “What’s that?” Ned asked.

  “I think Damian is operating a shadow command on the base.”

  “A what?”

  Darla sucked on her bottom lip, hesitant to answer. “I know this might sound petty, or come across as insecurity, but Damian has his own fan club, so to speak.”

  Two Loons laughed. “Fan club?”

  Darla nodded. “A lot of coins look up to him. He’s quite clever, as you know, and although he’s just a dinky dime like me, he’s very strong. Next to Kipp Quarter he’s the best wrestler on the base. He whups coins four times his size, half dollars and silver dollars. Some of the coins follow him around like puppies and will do anything he asks them to do.”

  “I’m embarrassed to admit it,” Ned said, “but I have a few ‘fans’ myself. Coins, like people, look up to those who are better than them at certain things.”

  “I get that,” Darla said, “but Damian treats them like his personal club or gang. He meets with them regularly off base.”

  “What do they do at these meetings?” Ned asked.

  “I don’t know. To attend you have to be in the club, and since I’m no fan of Damian’s, I’m not invited.”

  “How many coins are we talking about?” Two Loons asked.

  “At least twenty that I know about, but probably more than that.”

  “That’s close to half the ba
se,” Two Loons said. “And the other half idolizes Kipp Quarter?”

  Darla dipped her chin with a frowning nod. She regretted bringing up the whole thing now because of how weak the story made her sound. What kind of commander was she if half her base was loyal to Damian Dime and the other to Kipp Quarter? Darla looked away so that Ned and the others wouldn’t see her welling eye.

  Ned said, “Let’s cut to the chase. What you’re suggesting is since Damian knew about the Memphis operation, he was behind the ambush.”

  Darla, who had a moment to get a grip, turned to Ned. “I don’t think he pulled it off, no. But I believe he knows who did.”

  Two Loons grunted. “I’ll admit something stinks, but there are still way too many questions that need answering before we can accuse Damian of anything.”

  Darla stood straight and said forthrightly, “I will go to Deirdre right now and hand in my resignation as commander of the Grand Canyon Bullion Base.”

  She turned and made a move to roll off.

  The chief barked, “Halt! Get back here. You’re not doing anything of the like, young lady.”

  Darla stopped and faced Iron Tail. “But, Chief, Sir; I have failed. As Two Loons has correctly indicated, I maintain no control over my base. The coins don’t look up to me like they do you or other commanders.”

  “Pshaw,” the chief said. “You built and organized that base, and despite whatever meshugas is going on there, it’s one of the best-run bases we have. All our commanders should be such failures.”

  “Chief…?” Darla said, a knot in her throat.

  “You heard me, bubbeleh. If anyone should be resigning, it should be me.”

  The chief fixed Ned and Two Loons with a humorless stare, demonstrating he wasn’t being flippant. “Damian didn’t pull off that ambush, but like Darla said, the little runt knows who did, and so do I.”

  “Was that what you meant in the hotel’s hallway?” Ned asked. “‘He’s back.’”

  The chief nodded gravely.

  “Who’s back?” Two Loons said. “Back from where?”

  “A nickel. A nickel from hell,” the chief answered. “A ’38 Jefferson nickel like you, Four.”

  “Like Ned?” Darla said. “From…hell?”

  “Another four-cent nickel?” said Two Loons.

  “No, not a four-cent nickel, a—. Sit, please. This might take awhile.”

  The three coins exchanged baffled looks and flopped heads-up onto the ground. The chief remained standing.

  “Many years ago,” the chief began, “long before I met you, Four, I encountered another unique coin. He called himself Nicolai Nickel. Like you, Four, he was in mint condition, despite having already been in circulation for a few years. He came looking for me, and eventually found me among my Lakota brothers.”

  The chief paused and let his words sink in.

  “You heard right. Came looking for me. Unlike you, Four, he had already mastered the art of buck ‘n’ roll. I had never seen anything like it at the time, and I couldn’t do it either. Meeting him freed my mind, and that is how I began. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

  The chief paced before the others, a distant look in his eyes.

  “The nickel had heard that I was a medicine nickel, had visions, and ‘knew things.’ He wasn’t seeking wisdom or knowledge about his powers and abilities.” The chief snorted. “He didn’t believe an old Indian like me had anything to teach him about that. No, he was seeking you, Four.”

  “Me?”

  The chief nodded. “He wanted to know if I knew where you were. He said it was very important that he find you. I told him I never met a four-cent nickel, and of course I hadn’t. That did not surprise Nicolai, but he thought that I could locate you in a vision.

  “Up until that time my visions had been very vague,” the chief continued, “and to tell the truth, I half-wondered if they weren’t just the ravings of a mind gone mad. I heard voices. I saw flashes like postcards passing before my eyes. I felt the presence of my ancestors, the great Coinim. But other than the occasional prophesy—who was going to win the World Series or the next presidential election, junk like that—I kept the wacky stuff to myself.”

  Buffalo snuffled and flicked a hind leg like a dog trying to scratch a flea. He had an itch that needed attention, so the chief rolled over to a nearby pillar. He rocked against it back and forth. Buffalo’s tail wagged in bliss behind him.

  Ned and Darla chuckled.

  Two Loons—who was an Indian nickel like the chief—said, “We didn’t know why we built this place, but after we learned to animate our buffaloes I think we found out. My girl, Liberty Buffalo, is always dragging me here for a back scratch.”

  At the mention of her name, Liberty’s hind leg kicked out from behind the brave. Two Loons got up and joined the chief in his rocking at the next pillar over.

  Two Loons shrugged, embarrassed. “Looks goofy, I know, but what are ya gonna do? Having a live buffalo on your back has its pluses and minuses. Sorry, Chief, go on.”

  18

  six sense

  Iron Tail cleared his throat and quit his rocking.

  “As I was saying, Nicolai was unlike any coin I had ever met. We take locomotion for granted now, but think back. The first time you witnessed it you could hardly believe your eye. Nicolai hadn’t just mastered bucking; he was already a fully animated nickel. He could roll, flip, and stand endlessly on his rim without a wobble. He had perfect balance.”

  “Who taught him those things?” Darla asked.

  “He said he learned them by himself. It was those words that started me on my own attempts at self-animation. I only attained the most basic locomotion, but tasting the crumb I acknowledged the loaf. Not until Pete Penny achieved full self-animation did I fully believe that all coins contained limitless potential.”

  The chief turned to Ned.

  “Four, remember back in the Indian’s shoebox when you first learned to buck?”

  “Of course, Chief.”

  “How was it I knew that you could do much more than buck? What gave me the crazy notion that you could stand, roll, twirl, and flip?”

  “Nicolai Nickel,” Ned answered. “You had seen it done already.”

  “Yes.”

  “But why didn’t you mention him back then?”

  “I’m getting to that,” the chief replied. He rocked back and forth on his rim and collected his thoughts. “When the nickel told me his story—or the part he wanted me to know, anyway—I knew that I was in the presence of a very special coin. In the visions I had received up until then, I was told to expect the arrival of someone like him. Naturally, after seeing what he had accomplished, I thought Nicolai was the coin.

  “I agreed to consult the Coinim for him the following day when I knew that the Lakota elders would be holding one of their powwows in the tribe’s sweat lodge. Nicolai smuggled himself inside and watched.“

  The chief look away in pensive recollection, and then continued.

  “I stared into the fire and entered into a trance. The great Coinim visited me and put on quite a show that night. I felt I had traveled to the ends of the earth and back. I saw incarnations of coins, one after another, all the way back to the earliest shekels. And then I was thrust forward in a whirl of commerce back to the present, and beyond.”

  “The future?” Darla said.

  “Yes, bubbeleh. But being the future it was vague and seemed to split off into many possible directions, like branches on a tree. A thousand different futures, but each as real as the next. Any of them were possible, but only one would win out in the end.”

  Two Loons said, “And this Nicolai Nickel, did you see him in your visions?”

  The chief nodded grimly. “At every branching future. He stood at the fork like a prince—chin raised, a luster radiating from his silvery face, and an indomitable gleam in his eye. I glimpsed too many possible futures to count, but one feature seemed fixed in all of them—Nicolai. Nicolai Nickel is here to stay n
o matter what.”

  Two Loons looked at Ned, then at Darla, and then back to the chief. “Kimosabe,” he said to Iron Tail, “if that’s the case, then why are we even here? What’s the point?”

  “I, too, have wondered about that many times, my friend. But did Chief Laughing Hawk—may he rest in peace—ever express such doubts to you?”

  “Never. Laughing Hawk was always confident that The Four would come, and he never mentioned any Nicolai to me.”

  “Did he mention a Six?” the chief asked, cocking his eyebrow.

  “Six what?”

  “Not a what. A who. The Six.”

  Darla Dime gasped, immediately putting four and two together. “A six-cent nickel? Nicolai Nickel is a six-cent nickel?!”

  “Oh, boy,” Ned groaned.

  “Oy vey,” said Brave Two Loons. “And, no, Chief Laughing Hawk never mention a six-cent nickel, only The Four.”

  “That is one reason we must fight on,” the chief said.

  “Just one?” Two Loons grumbled. “One’s a lonely number, Iron Tail.”

  “I said The Six was in every future I saw that day at the sweat lodge, but in one future I saw facing him another nickel. I saw The Four. That is the future we must fight to maintain.”

  Darla asked, “What happened in that one, Chief?”

  “I don’t know. It too branched off, and in each glimpse that I had, both contained The Six and The Four.”

  “Wow,” Darla said. She turned to Ned. “Did you ever think you’d have so many futures?”

  Ned grimaced. “One is hard enough to handle.”

  “And one it must be,” the chief said. “The right one.”

  “Chief,” Ned asked, “after all that, what did you tell this Nicolai? And did you ever understand why he was looking for me?”

  “I didn’t learn why he was obsessed with you, but you must avoid him at all costs. I sensed a great danger surrounding any meeting with him. Afterwards, I told Nicolai Nickel where he could find you.”