by Jeff Norton
I turned Carol around and went back for Octo, hoping my friend was still alive.
Instead of dodging laser flashes, I was suddenly dodging hundreds of tumbling, complaining NEDs, all wearing the same bewildered, how-could-this-happen- to-someone-as-awesome-as-me expression as they sploshed in their round lake.
“The magma’s the source of their power,” I realized. “The straw is draining their planet, sucking the magma into the tanker and taking their strength with it.”
I circled the area where Octo had jumped and stared at the water. Finally I saw him surface.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
It wasn’t a sneeze.
It was Sneeze-zilla.
Sneeze-point-eight on the Richter scale.
The kind of sneeze that could burst only from someone staggeringly, alarmingly …
Allergic.
The ventitent surfaced amongst three NEDs trying to use each other as life rafts, but they instantly backed off, swimming away like they were scared of catching something contagious.
Octo’s rectangular eyes bulged. His blue-and-yellow striped skin was blackened and charred.
“Oh no,” Jessica groaned. “He’s hurt bad.”
I lowered the racer, hovering just over the lapping water. Houston, Jessica and Juliet each grabbed a couple of tentacles and hauled Octo aboard.
“How is he?” I yelled from the cockpit.
“He’s alive, Sherman,” said Juliet, “but in bad shape.”
“That totally SUCKED,” Octo wheezed in a scratchy voice.
“But you did it, buckaroo,” I said, turning around and smiling at my flambéed friend. “We’ll get you your allergy cream and you’ll be Ikea colors once again!”
“Your bravery will go down in history,” Houston added, tapping his photo-receptors. “And I got it all on video. It’ll go viral.”
“And I hope you ventitents heal quickly,” Jessica said, checking her watch, “because there’s still plenty of Prom left – and I’m in the mood for dancing.”
“Feelin’ better already,” Octo beamed.
“Sherman?” called my dad through the speakerphone. “Did it work?”
“You did it, Dad,” I replied. “The conduit’s sent that straw through the wormhole all the way here. The Earth is safe, the NEDs are powerless and we’re coming home in time for the last bit of Prom!”
I flashed the boosters and prepared to take us back to the wormhole highway.
“No, Sherman, you did it,” Dad said. “And I’m so incredibly proud of you.”
I don’t think he’d ever used the P word with me. It felt good – really good – for about an instant.
“But son,” he continued.
With Dad there was always a “but”.
“You have a choice to make now,” he said, gravely.
“What choice?” I asked.
“If you keep the wormhole open, the NED world will implode … and die. At our hands.”
He was right. If the straw sucked out the planet’s core, the NED world would collapse in on itself just like they’d planned for Earth.
“You, Sherman Capote,” Juliet said, “have the power to save their home.”
I’d saved our world, but endangered another. And as much I despised NED and his entitled, cruel, uppity planet, was I really ready to let an entire species die?
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
NED or Alive
As I flew the racer from the surface of the tremor- shocked NED planet, Dad’s voice sounded tinny over the speakerphone.
“It’s up to you, son,” he said. “I know you’ll make the right decision.”
“But?” I asked, expecting a caveat.
“No but, not this time.”
By now I could barely hear him over the colossal earthquake shaking the planet to pieces.
NED was such a bully, and I hated his species for what they’d done to Houston’s world, what they’d tried to do to my home, and their hold over the Aristox. But could I let them all perish?
Part of me wanted to rid the universe of these bullies forever, but another part realized that I would become worse than a bully if I did. I was confused. It was all too much.
“Dad, I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “I don’t know what to do!”
I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. Then I realized it was Juliet’s hands on my shoulders, gently rubbing them from behind my pilot’s chair.
“This is a bit what it feels like to be omnipotent,” said Juliet. “Every moment of every day, there are worlds to guard and species to save.”
I finally understood why she didn’t want to be anyone’s bodyguard. She had the weight of the universe on her shoulders all the time, and sometimes, she just wanted to be a teenager. It made sense that she was at Groom Lake High; it was the one place in the entire universe she could be herself, and not just an Icon. And I had tried to take that away from her.
“And all you can do is follow your heart,” she said.
“Sherman, whatever you decide,” Dad said, “whatever happens, I just want you to know – you’ve done great. I’m proud of you, and your mother would be so proud.”
I thought about Mom. Once when she was in Afghanistan, she’d been brought a patient who was considered the enemy. She operated on the man, saving his life. She didn’t have to, and she didn’t get anything in return. She just did it because she believed it was the right thing to do. She followed her heart.
“I don’t like these NEDs,” I said, “but I can’t just let them die.”
I was a lover, not a fighter. And I really didn’t want to be a killer.
“We’re going to collapse our side of the wormhole,” I declared. “Octo, that’ll collapse the whole thing, right?”
“I’m glad someone pays attention,” he groaned.
“And what happens to that straw if it’s still inside?” I asked.
“It’ll get smashed to space-smithereens,” Octo said. “A collapsed wormhole crushes anything inside it.”
We were approaching the Kármán Line of the NED atmosphere and I had 6DoF in my grasp. We were nearly rid of this NEDforsaken planet, but I banked the racer in the sky and shot us back down towards the lake to sabotage the magma-sucking straw.
“He can’t go back in the water,” Jessica said. She was right. Octo’s swimming days were over, but someone needed to dive in, fetch the bracelet and pull it closed.
“I would volunteer,” Houston said, “but I’ll sink straight to the bottom. When my parents designed our ecto-suits, they forgot that Earth was seventy per cent water.”
“I’ll do it,” I said, making up my mind. “Houston, you take the controls!”
I climbed out of the cabin as Houston slid into my seat.
“Once I come back up with the bracelet, tow me to the other side of the lake. Octo, will that collapse the wormhole?”
“That’ll do it. But, Sherman, as soon as the vortex closes, the hole that’s left is going to start spewing magma. You’ll be opening a hole that goes all the way down to the planet’s core.”
“You mean I’ll be creating a volcano?”
Octo nodded. “Okay, I guess you pay attention in school too.”
“Then I’d better be quick,” I said, looking out the back hatch at the water rushing below.
Juliet looked at me. “Sherman, you don’t have to—”
I took one big breath and jumped out, splashing into the clear lake below. I was suddenly thankful for the Air Force-compulsory swimming lessons, and dived until I could see the stretched, red rubber bracelet. I grabbed it and kicked my way up. But it was heavier than I’d realized. I kicked and kicked, but I wasn’t rising. I could feel my body weaken, oxygen leaving from my lungs. I tugged and kicked and wanted to scream. But the lake’s surface was so far above me. I stopped kicking, as it dawned on me that this was the end.
At least I’d saved the Earth. At least I’d told Juliet how I re
ally felt about her. And at least I knew how Dad felt about me.
It was my time. A great light encircled me, as if calling me to swim towards it and leave behind my mortal life. I began kicking again. This was my final destiny, my crossing over to the other side.
But it wasn’t just a light. It was a glow.
A very familiar blue glow!
I blinked, and suddenly Juliet was floating before me. She leaned in towards me, pressed her warm lips on mine, and blew fresh air into my mouth and into my lungs. As she pulled back, I noticed we were now in a bubble – an air bubble under the water.
“What? How are you doing this?”
“Just kiss me,” she said. And I did. On. The. Lips. And considering it was my first non-stage, underwater kiss on an alien planet, it was amazing. Okay, who am I kidding? All qualifiers aside, it was just … amazing.
She reached down and grabbed my hand … the one still holding onto the bracelet … and gently pulled it up. We rose steadily in the water until we surfaced with the bracelet.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No, Sherman, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For showing true compassion when faced with ultimate power. I think the Icons could learn from you.”
She pointed to a tall rocky outcrop at the far end of the lake. There, hovering on the rock’s top, were Juliet’s parents, glowing blue. They nodded and then they vanished.
“Maybe they did learn something?” I said.
“Looks like,” she said.
Juliet held onto my weakened body and pulled me up into the rear hatch of the racer. Houston immediately revved the racer towards the middle of the lake and the bracelet shrunk in circumference and then snapped to its normal size, coming to its final resting place in the palm of my hand.
I stared at the red rubber circle. The wormhole between worlds was destroyed and the NED planet was safe from certain ruin, but I was still reliving that amazing kiss.
“It’s leaving, Sherman!” Dad cheered through the phone, snapping me out of my daydream. “The straw’s retracted and the tanker’s leaving orbit. They must be hightailing it back there to replace their own magma!”
“That’s great, Dad,” I said. “We’ve closed the wormhole from here and—”
Suddenly, lava spewed into the sky. We watched through Carol’s windshields as a fountain of red-hot inner-planet goo sprayed all around us.
“Get us out of here, Houston!” I yelled to the cockpit.
Houston navigated the racer upward, but the escaping lava licked at the racer as it towered up, burning through the metal casing of the starboard engine and, from the sound of it, frying the fusion jet inside.
With only one functioning rocket, Houston limped the racer up and over the rocks, to safety, but the damage was done. As soon as we set down, a few miles from the erupting hole in the planet, we scrambled out to examine it.
“Carol’s fried,” said Octo. He was right; the racer looked more charred than he did. The entire starboard booster was melting and at least half of the cabin’s hull was scorched and fractured. But after everything we’d been though, I wasn’t giving up hope.
“We might be able to repair it, fly home with just the one engine—” I began as a blinding flash of lightning struck the racer, blowing it to pieces.
I was floored by the force of the explosion, and for a minute couldn’t see anything through the billowing smoke.
“Everyone okay?” asked Octo. “Roll call.”
“Here,” I managed.
“Just when I thought my dress couldn’t get any more ruined,” said Jessica.
“Operational,” said Houston.
The smoke lifted, and I saw that only Juliet, shielded from the blast by her blue aura, was still standing. “That did tickle a bit,” she said.
Fortunately for us mortals, we’d been standing far enough back from the blast. I guessed that had we still been inside the racer, we would have been incinerated. I took my eyes from my friends and surveyed the carnage. There was nothing left of Carol. Not one scrap of metal.
She was gone, just like my mom.
Strangely, I heard laughter – sick, smug laughter – blowing on the wind. I looked up. Standing on a rock tower, cape flowing in slow-motion over his powder- blue tuxedo, the fountain of hot lava spewing behind him, was NED.
He was holding the smoking gun.
Hope, it seemed, had given up on me.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Egg on his Face
NED scowled down at us with his self-satisfied mannequin-face and plastic hair that was perfectly still despite the gale from the spewing lava.
“Perhaps I should talk to him,” Juliet sighed. “I know he’s mean, but … what I did to him, that must have really hurt.”
NED pointed his silver ray gun at us, taking aim.
“I think he’s way past talk,” I said.
“Prepare to—” he began, no doubt about to issue the last words he thought we’d ever hear. But I’m pretty sure NED never expected a giant flying egg to knock him off his pedestal.
I gaped in disbelief as he fell backward, tumbling down the rock tower and into a deep crevice. Sonya’s Eggcraft swung back around, hovered over us and opened its hatch.
“Hiya, wedding crashers,” she said with a smile as she hung out of the back, still wearing her black Balleropera tunic. “Looks like you could use a lift.”
She disappeared inside to set the egg down on terra now-firma, then rushed down the gangplank, busting out some grateful hugs for everyone.
“Octo, you look a little crispy,” she said.
“He looks just great to me,” chirped Jessica.
“So gross,” I said. “Good to see you, Sonya.”
“How did you find us?” asked Houston, holding his Sonya-hug the longest.
“I packed my sisters off in the cruiser, but figured you might need a hand with your NEDfestation problem. But then I couldn’t find you. It wasn’t until I spotted that lava spray that I thought to myself, it could only be the handiwork of someone wanted by NATO for inciting global thermo-nuclear war.”
“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint,” I said.
“C’mon aboard and let’s get out of here,” she said, stopping to grab my arm. “And, Sherman, thanks for helping me and my sisters.”
“No prob,” I said. “And thank you, for everything – especially for getting me behind the wheel of a rocket.”
I looked over the burning chunks of metal strewn across the rocky landscape. “Goodbye, Carol,” I said.
Sonya followed my gaze to the scorched patch of ground and lowered her head, whispering solemnly, “She reached for the stars.”
“And she got there,” I said, “in the end.”
Jessica put one hand on my shoulder, holding an Octo tentacle with the other. Juliet reached over and squeezed my right palm. The gushing lava painted the sky deep orange as the planet retched its insides out. I felt a little bit like that: my deeper feelings finally coming to the surface.
I couldn’t stop the tears. They dripped from my eyes and raced down my face. I could taste the salt. But I wasn’t embarrassed. I squeezed Juliet’s hand back and nodded a slow, deliberate signal of reconciliation to Jessica.
“Octo?” I asked, using my sleeve as a tissue. “Do you think you could get us back to the wormhole highway to make the end of Prom?”
Octo wrapped a tentacle around Jess and said, “Only if I get a dance.”
We piled aboard the Eggcraft and I took the co-pilot seat beside Sonya.
“Wanna fly her?” she asked.
“You bet,” I said. I was a rocket man, a rocket-savant, but I’d found my true calling. I was born to fly.
Must be something in the genes, I decided.
I befriended the controls and steered the Eggcraft up into the sky, past the NED Kármán Line, and out of the atmosphere to Octo’s coordinates. We found the on-ramp to the wormhole highway, and I took one last look back at Plan
et NED and smiled. I’d faced down the bullies and refused to become one myself.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Hero’s Welcome
Soon after we pushed through Earth’s atmosphere, two not-so-friendly F-18s escorted us back to Groom Lake. I set us down back in the scrapyard; a perfect landing lit by the spotlights of the eight armored Humvees that surrounded us. A helicopter whirled directly overhead and the two fighter jets flew past.
“Sherman Capote,” barked a megaphone voice. “Leave the spacecraft with your hands in the air.”
“Eggcraft!” corrected Sonya.
“No other occupants are to disembark,” ordered Megaphone Man.
It’s not like I’d expected a hero’s welcome or anything, but a friendly slap on the back for a “job well done” wouldn’t have gone amiss. But I guessed that as far as the military were concerned, Sherman Capote was a fugitive who’d committed some serious rocket- related reoffending.
I squeezed from the cockpit into the cabin and grinned as Juliet said, “You’re a real hero, whether they recognize it or not.”
Sonya opened the hatch and Octo slithered out a tentacle, scooping up the allergy cream from his nearby Toyota.
“Ooooooh, that feels soooo, soooo good,” he purred. As he lathered up, the cream erased the chargrilled flesh, revealing raw, shiny blue-and-yellow stripes underneath.
“Only Sherman Capote,” barked Megaphone Man again. “With your hands up.”
“Don’t forget me when I’m gone,” I said, heading for the gangplank.
Jessica enveloped me in a hug and punched me on the arm. “You did great, Sherman. Really great.”
“It’s been a pleasure flying with you, pilot,” said Sonya with a smile.
“You made me think I had a brother again,” said Houston. “Jessica, you are very lucky.”
“I know,” she said, smiling at me.
“C’mere, buckaroo,” said Octo. He wrapped twenty tentacles around me, pulling me close for a suffocation- inducing hug.
“C-c-can’t breathe,” I stuttered. He released his grip and slipped the red bracelet around my left wrist.
