First War

CHAPTER ONE-2

“It’s just a flesh wound,” I lied. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be fine.”

Cyberkid looked at me skeptically, but then shrugged and flew over to me. He scooped me into his arms bridal style (which felt kind of awkward) and then lowered us both to the deck below. When we landed, Cyberkid kicked open the door and rushed inside. I followed, ignoring the pain in my shoulder as best as I could, though the bleeding was harder to ignore.

Once we passed the threshold, the sound of battle outside became a lot more quiet, especially when I closed the door behind us. We stood in a narrow wood hallway, which stretched ahead toward the front of the ship and had about three or four doors on each side. There was no sign, however, of the vigilante himself.

“Where did he go?” I said, looking around the narrow hallway in confusion.

Cyberkid looked at me in annoyance. “Are you sure you saw one of the vigilantes sneak into here? Because if not—”

“I did,” I said defensively. “He had weird goggles on his face and a bunch of balls in this bag tied around his waist.”

Cyberkid paused. The part of his face that was not hidden by his helmet revealed a growing sense of horror. “Goggles?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Big, bug-eyed ones.”

Cyberkid’s one revealed eye widened. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh?” I said. “What do you mean by that?”

Cyberkid, however, did not respond. He just turned and ran down the hallway, forcing me to run after him in order not to get left behind. He turned down a corner and ran down a wooden staircase which appeared to lead to the lower decks, going down two steps at a time, while I had to do one at a time in order not to aggravate my shoulder injury.

“Cyberkid, what’s the problem?” I said, my breath ragged as we reached the end of the staircase. “Do you know the guy?”

Cyberkid abruptly stopped and turned to face me, frowning grimly. “Know him? I met him. He was Myster’s last sidekick, before I started working for him. He quit working for Myster three years ago to strike out on his own, though I met him once when Myster threw a sidekick reunion party last year. Not sure why he became a vigilante, though.”

“What are his powers?” I said. I tried not to show any pain, but my shoulder wound was getting harder and harder to ignore.

“He has none,” said Cyberkid in a grim voice. “Like me, Blast was technologically-gifted, but his own talents lay mostly in creating explosives. As in, bombs, and big ones, at that.”

My eyes widened in shock as I realized what Cyberkid implied. “You don’t mean—”

“I do,” Cyberkid interrupted me. He turned around again. “While Myster and the other HU heroes are busy fighting his allies, Blast went down here to set explosives to blow up the ship. He’s probably going to blow up the engine, which would be enough to cause the whole ship to fall like a rock.”

In my mind’s eyes, I saw The Mystery fall abruptly down toward Golden City below before crashing and exploding into tons of pieces. “That will kill everyone on board, including his own allies.”

“They probably plan to get off the ship with their teleporter,” said Cyberkid. “In any case, we’ve got to find him fast before he has time to set off his explosives. The longer we stand around talking, the more likely his success becomes.”

And the more infected my shoulder became, but I didn’t say that aloud. I just followed Cyberkid through the lower decks of The Mystery, taking the shortest route possible to the ship’s engine. I had never been down this low in The Mystery before, and the farther down we went, the more muffled the sounds of battle above became, until soon I couldn’t hear the battle raging above us at all.

But I could hear a loud engine humming somewhere up ahead. That sound grew louder as the sounds of battle above grew quieter. I half-expected us to run across one of Blast’s bombs in the hallway, but given how we didn’t run into any of them, I guess Blast must have been in too much of a hurry to set bombs for anyone following him. Or he was so convinced that he had sneaked in unnoticed that he simply never felt the need to set any traps.

Finally, I spotted a door up ahead, a cracked open door, which was helpfully labeled ENGINE ROOM. It was ajar, but Cyberkid kicked it open anyway and the two of us rushed inside without hesitation.

The sound of the engine humming and rumbling was deafening now that we were actually inside the Engine Room itself. The engine was a huge, mechanical device that looked like an overgrown car engine, except far more complicated and advanced. Pistons worked hard against the main body of the engine, electricity crackled, lights flashed, and its innards rumbled and hummed like a rock song. The engine took up about half of the entire room, which was impressive, because the Engine Room was easily one of the larger rooms on The Mystery.

But I paid little attention to that, because I spotted Blast standing near the foot of The Mystery. He was bent over, messing with something, though I couldn’t tell what due to his body blocking my view of it.

Cyberkid stepped forward and shouted as loudly as he could, “Blast, you i***t!”

Blast must have heard him, because he looked over his shoulder, but instead of frowning or scowling, he just smiled, which made him look very creepy, especially with those goggles covering his eyes.

“Ah, Cyberkid,” said Blast as he rose to his feet and turned around. He had a nasally voice, but it didn’t make him any less scary. “Myster’s newest child slave. Er, I mean sidekick, of course.”

Then he looked at me and his smile grew even wider. “And Rubberman’s brat? My, my. I came down here only to blow up this engine and turn this airship into a falling fireball of doom. I didn’t think I would get the honor killing the brat who put our leader behind bars.”

“You won’t,” I said. I winced at my shoulder wound, but stepped forward beside Cyberkid. “You’re not going to blow up or kill anyone. Come forward quietly and we won’t have to get violent.”

Blast threw back his head and laughed. “Ha! You kids really are brainwashed, talking like those damned fake heroes. I don’t remember talking like that when I was a sidekick, but I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ve already set up the bomb, as kids these days say.”

Blast stepped aside, revealing a large, flat blinking device set on the foot of the engine. On the device was a five minute timer that was, to my horror, already counting down second by second.

Cyberkid looked at Blast in shock. “Turn off that timer right now or else.”

“Sorry, I can’t do that,” said Blast with a shrug. “It’s an automatic timer. Besides, even if I did turn it off, I would still be able to blow it up. I have the detonator right here, after all.”

Blast held up a small device in his right hand, which had a single red button on it. His thumb hovered over the button threateningly, but did not press down on it yet.

“The original plan was that I would come down here, set up a few well-placed bombs, and then leave before the timers finished,” said Blast. “Then I would tell Traveler—that’s our teleporter, if you didn’t know—and we’d all retreat. We’d trick you and your bosses into thinking you had won the battle right up until the moment the bombs went off and you all died; however, it’s clear that I won’t be able to do that now. Oh, well. Traveler has orders to teleport the other vigilantes away if I don’t return in two minutes, so even if I die, at least my allies will leave. Can’t say the same about your allies, however.”

“Then we’ll disarm it,” I said. I looked at Cyberkid. “Cyberkid, have you ever disarmed a bomb before?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Blast. He waved the detonator above his head. “If either of you two brats try to stop the bomb before the timer is up, I’ll press the button on this detonator and blow us all to kingdom come. And, unlike those fake heroes you work for, I’m not lying.”

I believed him. Blast looked and sounded completely serious about detonating the bomb before the timer finished. I could probably shoot the detonator out of his hand from a distance, but Blast probably expected me to do that, given how he knew who I was. And even if I did blast the detonator out of his hands before he could activate it, that didn’t mean we would be able to disarm the bomb itself.

Blast glanced at the timer. “Three and a half minutes left. I should warn you that the blast will probably kill all three of us instantly when it goes off, but The Mystery will likely remain airborne for a bit longer than that. I could have made it sink immediately if I’d had set more bombs, but really, more bombs would have been a luxury rather than a necessity at this point.”

I hated Blast’s rambling, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I had a feeling that if I said anything, Blast would use that as an excuse to activate the detonator and kill all of us.

I looked at Cyberkid, wondering if he had any ideas. He, however, looked just as helpless as me. He was scowling, his hands balled into fists, but it seemed like he had no idea how to stop Blast, either.

“You two sure are quiet,” said Blast. “No witty banter to try to make me upset? Or are you coming to terms with your mortality? Perhaps your lives—as short and insignificant as they are—are flashing before your eyes. Maybe you’re even silently cursing your bosses for putting you in this situation in the first place.”

I wanted to tell Blast to shut his mouth, but again, I was worried he was just looking for an excuse to activate the detonator. A glance at the timer on the bomb revealed we had only two and a half minutes to stop it. I didn’t know for sure how big the explosion was going to be, but if it was going to be big enough to cripple the engine and crash The Mystery, it would definitely be big enough to kill all three of us instantly.

We didn’t have more time to waste. Our best bet was taking out Blast and then having Cyberkid disarm the bomb. And the only way to do that was to knock the detonator out of Blast’s hand, which I would have to do quickly, because if I hesitated for even a second, Blast would press the button and kill all of us.

“Still very quiet,” said Blast. “That’s good, of course. Most kids are too noisy these days, especially teenagers like—”

I didn’t let him finish his sentence. I fired my beams, aiming directly at his hand. Two lasers struck his detonator hand, knocking the detonator out of his grasp. Blast cried out in pain and grabbed his burned hand, but I wasn’t going to let him recover. I launched myself across the room, using the last of my previous energy boost, and kicked him in the jaw. My boot cracked against his jaw and he immediately collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

Landing on the floor, I grimaced and grabbed my shoulder, which was now bleeding worse than ever. Nonetheless, Blast was down, though the timer showed that we had only one and a half minutes left.

I didn’t even have to say anything, however, before Cyberkid rushed over to the bomb and immediately knelt before it. He began examining the bomb, running his hands over its smooth outer shell as he attempted to look for some way to open it. At least, I assumed he was, because I didn’t know what else he could do be doing.

“Cyberkid, have you figured out how to stop it yet?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard over the engine’s rumbling again.

“Not yet,” said Cyberkid, his voice frantic. “If I could open it, maybe I could rewire it, but—Ah, here we go!”

Cyberkid pried the outer shell off and threw it aside. Bunches of wires—red, blue, and green—were crisscrossed underneath the timer, which now showed about one minute and five seconds left. Cyberkid froze, staring at the wires as if he had never seen anything like them before.

“Cyberkid, what the hell are you doing?” I shouted, not even bothering to hide my anger. “Cut the right wire, damn it, before it explodes!”

“I …” Cyberkid shook his head. “I don’t know which wire is the right one! If I pull the wrong wire, it could set off the bomb early and kill us all.”

I scowled and looked at the timer. Forty-five seconds. “Haven’t you disarmed bombs before? Shouldn’t you know which wires detonate it?”

“You just assume I know how to disarm bombs because I’m a tech guy,” Cyberkid snapped. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m not a bomb technician? Just because I’m good with some tech doesn’t mean I’m good with all kinds of tech.”

I gulped. The timer now said we had less than thirty seconds left. “Then what the hell are we supposed to do? Just sit here and pray for a miracle?”

“I—” Cyberkid put his hands on his head and stared at the bomb uselessly. “I don’t know. I can’t stop this bomb. I can’t save us.”

Cyberkid sounded so pathetic when he said that, which made me angry. But I forgot about my anger when I looked at the timer one last time and saw that twenty seconds had somehow passed already, leaving us with less than ten seconds left.

I did not hesitate. I jumped forward, grabbed a fistful of wires, and, ignoring Cyberkid’s protests to the contrary, ripped all of the wires out of the bomb at once.

I expected the bomb to explode. I expected a fiery explosion of death to envelope all three of us and cripple the engine. I expected to be lying half-dead on the floor, feeling The Mystery falling to its doom, where I would die as soon as the airship crashed into the city below.

None of that happened.

Instead, the timer stopped beeping and froze at exactly five seconds before detonation. And I knew that it would not explode even if Blast pressed the detonator. I knew that The Mystery was saved.