Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow

by Kevin J. Anderson

Franky watched in horror as the Warhawk shot toward the crablike robot. The snarling jaws painted on the nose of his plane made him look like an attacking shark. She yelled into her cockpit microphone. "Joseph, disengage! Do you read me? Joseph!"

  The crab monster settled back on its segmented rear legs, exposing the overlapping iron plates on its underbelly. A round weapon port opened, and a spurt of bubbles accompanied the release of a fast spearhead torpedo. The underwater rocket locked onto its target, accelerating toward Sky Captain's oncoming plane.

  Polly cried out. "Joe, look!"

  Still struggling to steer, Sky Captain could not swerve in time to avoid the torpedo. The plane's rudder wiggled, strained, but the broken rock shaft only wedged in tighter. "We're dead in the water," he said. "Literally."

  The torpedo closed fast…

  final episode "THE MYSTERIOUS DR. TOTENKOPF"

  Aboard the flying fortress, Sky Captain and Polly have discovered the location of a mysterious island…

  Meanwhile, an enemy torpedo is heading straight for Sky Captain's Warhawk as he attempts to evade the island's defenses…

  27

  Drawing Fire. A Desperate Ploy. A Narrow Escape

  When the enemy torpedo was only seconds from hitting Sky Captain's crippled plane, Polly fought the instinct to squeeze her eyes shut. "Didn't Dex add extra armor to your plane, Joe? Might that…?"

  "It won't be enough," Sky Captain said, his voice heavy. "My only hope is that the explosion will wipe out the robot monster along with us. Then maybe Franky can finish the job."

  "Oh, Joe…"

  "Polly?" He sounded sincere, hesitant. She thought he wanted to tell her something meaningful.

  The crab machine's torpedo was coming straight toward them. It was fifty yards away… twenty…

  Then Sky Captain said, "You should have taken your last two photos at Shangri-La."

  At the last moment, Franky's plane plunged in front of the Warhawk, swooping so close that her stirring backwash nudged the P-40 out of the way. Her unexpected appearance was like a wild dog in a chicken coop, and as she raced past, her plane presented a closer and larger target for the torpedo's sensors. She drew the automated missile away from Sky Captain.

  "Come on, then," Franky said with a forced chuckle, "let's follow the leader."

  Even Polly cheered. Sky Captain laughed into his microphone. "Thanks, Franky. That was close."

  But as she pulled the torpedo along in her wake, Franky had more in mind than just diverting the underwater rocket. With the swirling missile in close pursuit, she pushed her plane to its limits and made a tight arching loop. Flying upside down, she turned her aircraft back toward the lumbering crablike crawler at the mouth of the cave. Unshaken by the maneuver, the torpedo came fast on her tail.

  "Get ready to make a run for it, Joseph," Franky's voice said over the cockpit speaker. "You're only going to have one shot at this."

  "Franky, I'm not much use. My rudder's jammed. I can't — "

  Franky's plane dove overhead on a collision course for the crab machine. "She's heading straight for it," Polly said. "On purpose."

  "That lady doesn't do many things by accident." Sky Captain lifted his microphone, unable to keep the alarm out of his voice. "Franky, what are you doing? This is no time to show off." But there was no question in his mind about what she intended to do. "She's going to ram it."

  "But that's suicide!" Polly said.

  "It's her way of accomplishing a mission." His face paled. "Damn it, Franky, pull up!"

  But her amphibious plane rocketed straight for the lumbering monster. She completed a half barrel roll, putting herself right side up again. The menacing torpedo followed, closing the gap.

  "On my mark." Her voice was maddeningly calm. "Don't let me down, Joseph. I'm going to rather a lot of trouble for you here."

  "Franky! No!" Sky Captain was horrified.

  "Three…"

  Even with her mixed emotions toward the beautiful and mysterious British captain, Polly was drawn in. She whispered under her breath, "No, Franky. You don't need to do it."

  "Two…"

  "Franky, pull up! Come on, pull up!"

  "One…"

  Now Polly closed her eyes.

  The giant crab machine completely filled the view in front of Franky. The torpedo closed the few remaining feet at her tail, its proximity fuse triggered. Everything happened faster than the human eye could absorb.

  Franky grabbed a lever on the cockpit roof, yanking it down with all her strength. A spark flashed, clamps disengaged, and a small charge detonated to augment tightly coiled springs beneath her padded chair. The cockpit canopy blasted away, and the newly installed ejector seat flung her up through the water.

  Just below, the merest fraction of a second after she shot away, the torpedo struck the tail of her plane and detonated. At the same moment, her underwater aircraft, now empty, crashed at full speed into the looming crab monster.

  It seemed that the whole ocean convulsed with the terrific explosion. Shock waves slammed upward, nipping at Franky's heels as her ejector seat burst free of the wave tops like the cork from a shaken bottle of champagne. Shoved back with the force of the launch, Franky rode it through a rush of foam, gripping the arms of her chair. Beneath her, the sea roiled from the underwater fury. It was quite a ride.

  As soon as she reached the open air, before the pilot seat ascended to the zenith of its trajectory, a rotor system activated under her seat. Slender alloy blades unfurled and began to spin, carrying her safely upward like an inverted version of Igor Sikorsky's new "helicopter" craft.

  The previously untried escape system worked like a charm. "Thanks again for your imagination, Dex." She looked across to the misty silhouette of the nearby mysterious island. "Once you get rescued, I promise I'll buy you a year's subscription to any pulp magazine you take."

  The rest of the Royal Navy's special amphibious squadron breached the surface of the waters below, activated their air engines, and rose from the ocean. Franky used controls in her chair to guide her own ascent. Together, they climbed toward the relative safety of the damaged flying fortress…

  After the explosion, Sky Captain's Warhawk sailed through the watery inferno. The cauldron of bubbles and half-vaporized debris from the ruined crablike robot battered them like a whirlwind and dislodged the jammed stalactite in the P-40's rudder. The controls suddenly moved in his grip.

  "Hey, I can maneuver again!"

  The Warhawk rode the choppy waters past the sagging hulk of the destroyed guardian, and they finally slipped inside the undersea inlet.

  The cockpit radio crackled to life with the familiar voice of Franky Cook transmitting from her ejected seat. "You're all clear, Joseph. Good luck. Go save Dex."

  "Thanks, Franky. We'll take it from here." Relieved to hear she had escaped, he clicked off the radio. His plane plunged deeper into the cave.

  Polly was unable to deny her exhilaration. "That Franky's some kind of girl."

  "Yeah, I know," Sky Captain said.

  28

  An Underwater Passage. A Remarkable Jungle. A Land That Time Forgot

  Always alert for more of Totenkopf's monstrous defenses, the Warhawk drifted through the underwater cave, following bends and curves in the inlet. The plane's engine droned with a low hum, muffled by the murky water.

  Spotlights emerged from the nose of the aircraft, shining into the mysterious labyrinth. Around them, the sheltered currents offered a strange tranquility for a universe of bizarre sea life.

  Polly pressed her face against the canopy glass like a small child, her eyes filled with wonder. All manner of exotic fish, mollusks, and honeycombed coral growths passed before them — things she had never seen in any aquarium or naturalist's book.

  Prehistoric sea lilies with segmented stalks and hard clamshell petals snapped at fish that darted by. Crawling multilegged creatures that resembled helmeted pill bugs squirmed through the ooze, cracking and devouring snails as large as
pumpkins. Sponges like rubbery tubes sucked in warm water, filtering out microorganisms, while ribbony sea snakes glided by.

  Everything Polly saw seemed to have a lot of teeth.

  A creature that looked like a cross between a crocodile and a swordfish cruised in front of them, attracted by the P-40's lights. The plane's churning propeller made the monster reconsider its attack, and it darted off with a thrash of its sharp tail, chomping on two unfortunate fish as it fled.

  "How far do we have to go yet, Joe?"

  "We didn't exactly have maps of this passage. I can only hope the inlet penetrates to the core of the island. We'll just have to wait and keep our eyes open."

  Before long, the character of the water around them changed. Shafts of sunlight penetrated through a break in the cave ceiling, giving the widening grotto a lambent glow. Predatory fish swam into the streaming light, then dove back into the comforting shadows of the inlet passage.

  "Nap time is over." Sky Captain tilted the rudder so his plane angled toward the light. "I'm taking us up."

  "Nap time?" Polly gave an annoyed sigh. "Fresh air sounds fine with me."

  With a rush of bubbles, the Warhawk climbed out of the underwater cove and surfaced in a lagoon half covered by floating leaves and odd frilled lily pads. Startled amphibians dove into the water and splashed toward the weedy shore. The plane leveled itself and came to rest afloat on the pool.

  Sky Captain slid open the canopy, then stretched his arms as he drew a lungful of the heady, mulchy air. The scent of foliage and rotting vegetation made each breath seem thick enough to chew.

  Polly wrinkled her nose. "Smells like a compost pile."

  Sky Captain sat on top of the canopy, gazing into the island wilderness. Now the two had a chance to look around at the dense, nightmarish jungle. The strange noises of unseen creatures came from every direction: clacking insect buzzes, howls and grunts, eerie whistles.

  The sunlight shimmered and reflected in the steamy air, as if slowed down by plowing into the past. Giant rushes and wide-spreading ferns rose around them, dripping star points of dew. Squat armored fern trees towered overhead, some rising almost a hundred feet high. Primitive evergreens and trees with no flowers clustered in the wet undergrowth.

  Sky Captain tapped Polly on the shoulder, put a finger to his lips, and pointed off into the forest. She turned, then couldn't believe her eyes. Drinking from a shallow pool were three giant protobirds with ferocious sharp beaks that looked strong enough to snip an oak tree in half. The creatures resembled ostriches, but their muscular legs reached twenty feet off the ground before connecting to disproportionately smaller bodies. One of those drumsticks would have fed a family for a week.

  The floating plane rocked from an underwater disturbance, and Polly held on to Sky Captain, strictly for balance. A dark sinuous shadow emerged from the grotto below. With barely a ripple, the dorsal spine of a gargantuan creature surfaced, and a small head rose from a serpentine neck. Half-chewed water weeds dangled from its jaws as it placidly looked around, snorted stinking spray, then dipped beneath the water again.

  Polly reached into the cockpit and pulled out her camera. Her face was flushed, her breathing fast. With a reporter's eye, she raised the small camera, sighting through the viewing lens. So many amazing creatures from a time long before recorded history — how could she choose which ones to photograph? After hesitating, she sadly lowered the camera.

  Sky Captain watched her in disbelief. "You're not going to shoot that? Dinosaurs, prehistoric birds, sea monsters. What would your editor say?"

  Polly tapped the counter gauge. "I've got two shots left, Joe. Who knows what else is waiting for us out there?"

  "Suit yourself… but be sure to save one of the exposures for a reunion shot with me, you, and Dex."

  He reached into the cockpit and rummaged in a storage compartment. He withdrew a small kit containing a compass and then a long machete. "Always come prepared. Let's go have a look and see what we can find." When he glanced at the compass, though, it spun impossibly fast. "Terrific. Now Totenkopf is scrambling the Earth's magnetic field, too."

  After they made their way to shore, the ground felt spongy and damp beneath their feet. Each step made a squelching sound. Polly could smell the sharp, oily scents of the weird vegetation rising from the swamp's sultry ooze.

  She ducked, biting back an outcry, as a sound like a chainsaw whizzed past her head, and she gaped at a colorful dragonfly with a wingspan of two feet. The dragonfly circled them, and Sky Captain withdrew his pistol, ready to shoot it, but the overgrown insect sped deeper into the swamp.

  Billowing seed ferns and cactuslike club mosses crowded the heavy forest. A large beetle scuttled sluggishly down the fallen trunk of a fern tree, picking its way across a wet mass of algae. A stubby-legged spider the size of an apple watched them from a scale tree, but did not seem interested in prey so large.

  Sky Captain and Polly slogged through the dense brush for hours. He hacked right and left with his machete, cutting a path that led them deeper into the mysterious world. Despite their crunching and thrashing, the air seemed hushed and brooding. All around them small creatures made quiet greeting sounds, like a cicada's song played backward.

  Nearby, Sky Captain heard a strange chirping sound, loud and insistent. His face wrinkled with concern. "Shhh. Listen." The tall grasses and ferns cut off their line of sight in all directions. The wind began to pick up, but the sky remained clear.

  Polly cocked her ear. "I've never heard anything like it."

  Sky Captain started cautiously forward. The sound was like a repetitive screeching whistle, a constant demand. "It doesn't sound too dangerous." He pushed through the brush, bending thorny brambles to poke his head through a gap in the matted pampas grass. Polly shouldered her way close beside him.

  They stared at a bird's nest the size of a motor home. Thick boughs and splintered tree trunks formed the walls to keep two monstrous hatchlings inside. Each prehistoric chick was the size of a small bear. Their dark eyes glittered as their heads swiveled. Both creatures looked extremely hungry. The insistent cheeping took on a different tone as they saw Sky Captain and Polly. Their hard, bear-trap beaks clacked open and shut, demanding food.

  Then a much more horrible screech split the air overhead, similar in tone to the chicks' cries but several octaves lower. Sky Captain looked up as an airplane-sized shadow descended toward them, swordlike talons outstretched.

  "Run!" he shouted.

  29

  A Treacherous Bridge. One Shot Left. Two Confessions

  The pair of ravenous monster chicks tilted their heads and opened sharp beaks to screech for their mother. An answering bellow sent chills through Polly's bones. The giant flying creature dive-bombed from above. She and Sky Captain headed for cover under the tall fern trees. The angry beast swooped low enough to rip the clumpy tops of the ancient trees, thrashing to break through. Sky Captain jabbed with his machete in an attempt to chop through the undergrowth so they could flee. The curved blade sliced vines across their path, and he bolted forward, letting twigs snap back against Polly. She knocked them aside, sputtering, and ran after him.

  The winged terror circled around and came at them again. The monster bird tore at the forest overhead, shrieking in frustration as it tried to rip a hole in the clattering branches. A spiny feather as long as Polly's forearm spun to the ground. The prehistoric creature snapped at the protective branches a final time, then flapped off. Sky Captain and Polly stood close together in the shadows, waiting in suspense. The attacker did not come back.

  "It seems to be gone," he said, "but I don't want to count on that. Let's get moving."

  He continued to chop with the machete, pretending that he knew which direction they should go. He worked his way toward the center of the island, scaring hedgehog-sized beetles that scampered off into the underbrush. Polly stumbled behind him, and the brambles became tighter, denser.

  With a hefty swing of the machete, Sky Captai
n hacked his way through a particularly dense thicket and suddenly found his feet only inches from the edge of a sheer cliff. Panting for breath, Polly came up beside him, not expecting the sudden ledge. She swayed, then caught his arm for balance.

  He shaded his eyes, facing a deep canyon that sliced directly across their path. "It's a dirty trick to put that in our way." He scanned up and down the impossible gorge that seemed to go on forever.

  "Well… we could go back to the plane, set off in another direction," Polly suggested. "We might have better luck."

  He rubbed a twinge in his arm. "You haven't been the one swinging a machete all this way." Instead, farther down the gorge, he spotted a possibility. "Down there — do you see it?"

  She swallowed hard. "I'm not sure I want to."

  Sky Captain had already made up his mind; he began picking his way along the canyon rim. A dangerous-looking bridge made of old mossy planks and frayed vine ropes spanned the gorge. Up and down the narrow canyon, silvery waterfalls from jungle streams fed a turbulent river far below.

  "Totenkopf must have been here a long time." Standing at the end of the bridge, Sky Captain tested the closest plank by stomping on it with the heel of his boot. The ropes shivered ominously, and the wooden slats groaned. He made a nervous grimace that Polly couldn't see, but he was all smiles when he turned to look at her. "Seems sturdy enough to me." He gestured with his hand. "Ladies first."

  "So now you decide to be a gentleman?" She pointed across the bridge with some authority. "It's your idea. Go."

  "Sure." Sky Captain walked out onto the swaying bridge, one cautious footstep at a time. "No problem." He held the side ropes for support, but he could feel them ready to fray at any moment.

  Polly decided that being left behind was worse than crossing the bridge. She followed close to him, looking straight ahead instead of down. The primitive bridge creaked terribly with every step. The opposite side of the gorge did not seem to grow any closer.