Hopes and Schemes
part 4

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Pirate Island
The Next Afternoon

Rays from the setting sun filtered down through the clouds, transforming both the sky and the sea into a brilliant orange. Kit, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back to the cave wall, glanced up from polishing his airfoil to admire the beautiful scenery. It looked just like a picture surrounded by a jagged, rocky frame.

This small cave, complete with a 'window' overlooking the ocean, was one of his favorite thinking places. Since it was far from the caverns utilized by the other pirates, he could sit undisturbed amongst the shadows and drift into the land of daydreams. He folded his airfoil with a press of a button and concealed it beneath his sweater. Propping his head in his hands, he gazed out over the sparkling ocean, filled with a restless longing to fly to the horizon and beyond.

And once he got his hands on that jewel mentioned by the pilots on the radio the night before, his dream would become a reality.

There was only one catch: His plan for escaping the pirates hinged largely on the pirates.

A million questions crowded into his mind as he absently stared at a point on the horizon. Would Karnage steal the jewel? And if Karnage stole the jewel, how could he, Kit, get it? And once he got it, how could he get away? And once he got away, where would he go?

Frankly, Kit really didn't care where he went as long as it was away from the air pirates.

He was sick of being kicked around. Sick of being bossed around. Sick of the brutality. Sick of the pointless plundering. Honest Kit hated stealing. Stealing to survive was one thing, but stealing just to steal was wrong. He was tired of being bullied, of being surrounded by crude, rough, ignorant pirates, of constantly having to be on the defensive, of having to fight for everything he had, of not being able to trust anyone. He was just sick of being a pirate.

Once he got the jewel and had gotten away from the pirates, he'd somehow find Shere Khan and return it to him. Surely the richest man in the world would reward him for recovering his precious jewel. That way, everybody would win. He'd have money and his freedom and Shere Khan would regain his property.

Don Karnage and his band of pirates would be the only losers in the deal, and Kit knew from experience that they wouldn't take the loss of the valuable jewel well. But he had to escape and he wasn't going to go back to being a penniless street urchin, not when he had the chance to have a few dollars and a plane of his own.

Kit gritted his teeth in determination. He was no quitter. He'd escape from the pirates somehow or die trying...which he knew might very well be possible.

His thoughts were interrupted by an ear-splitting klaxon horn that signaled the Iron Vulture's return.

The boy roughly brushed his hand across his eyes. A second later, his usual tough expression had replaced his fleeting look of despair.

He sprang to his feet and hurried out of the cave, into the dusky, narrow, winding passageway that led down, down, down towards the cove where the Iron Vulture was moored.

At the tunnel's end, Kit slammed into Hal, causing the fat feline to drop the box he had been carrying.

"Why don't you watch where you're going, shrimp?"

"I was watching where I was going, and if you had been watching where I was going, I wouldn't have run into you," Kit said rudely.

Confused, Hal stammered, "Oh...sorry."

"No problem. I'll let it slide this time."

Hal picked up the box, pondering what the boy had said. "If he was...and I was..."

Kit grinned and jogged towards the Iron Vulture's open beak where the other pirates were unloading their recently stolen loot.

As he approached, he heard Mad Dog saying, "Flagpoles and wire? Has the captain gone crazy?"

Don Karnage, breathing heavily with anger, stalked over to the lanky ferret and smacked him across the face. "Never...call...me...that...word!"

Mad Dog rubbed his sore cheek. "A thousand groveling apologies, Captain."

"Vhat do ve need with all dis junk?" Dumptruck wondered.

Karnage bristled with indignation. "Junk? Junk? JUNK? This is not junk! These are the finest flagpoles and wires that pirates can steal. And once we have everything, we will be able to steal the finest whatever whenever we want. Do you not see? Si?"

"No..." droned the confused pirates.

The pirate captain sighed. Just once, he'd like to meet a pirate who had the slightest glimmer of brains. "Of course you can't, because only I can do what I do the way I do it."

"Huh?" A few of the pirates scratched their scruffy heads.

"Very well. Let me let you fooligans in on a little, tiny secret."

The pirates leaned in closer, eager to hear what their captain had to say.

"This...thingy..." he said, for lack of a better word, "is a need-to-know thingy and only I need to know about it, you know?" With a little chuckle, Karnage walked away, feeling vastly pleased with himself.

"Vhat did he say, Mad Dog?" Dumptruck asked.

"Search me. I still think the captain is..." Mad Dog made sure Don Karnage was far away before mouthing: "Crazy."

Khan Towers
Two Weeks Later
3:00 AM

Clouds, driven by a tempestuous wind, scudded rapidly across the sky, foreshadowing an approaching storm. The intermittent shafts of moonlight that pierced the clouds turned objects that were familiar and friendly by day into forbidding, fearsome monsters. In downtown Cape Suzette, a lone withered leaf skittered across the deserted street in front of Khan Towers where it took shelter in the warm glow at the base of the streetlight.

High above the streets, Shere Khan sat behind a raised podium in an amphitheater-like room. Khan Industries' departmental managers - all middle-aged, grey male panthers wearing almost identical grey suits - sat in a semicircle around him.

The manager furthest to the right stifled a yawn, then whispered to his neighbor, "These late-night meetings are ridiculous."

His colleague murmured, "Business waits for no man, especially Shere Khan."

When their boss looked sternly in their direction, they turned their attention to the speaker.

Jenkins, the head of Energy, was saying, "All coal-burning plants are at one hundred percent capacity and..."

Just then, Owen, Shere Khan's right hand man, burst into the room. "Mr. Khan! Mr. Khan, sir!"

Khan frowned down on the interloper from his lofty height. "I thought I told you never to interrupt me during a meeting."

Feeling about two inches tall, the scrawny tiger stammered, "Y-yes, sir, but this is important!"

Khan sighed. If it wasn't more than a million dollars, he didn't consider it important. "What is it?"

"Air pirates have hijacked one of your cargo ships, sir."

The podium gained a few more claw marks courtesy of Shere Khan. "And what did they steal this time?"

"You aren't going to believe it, sir."

"Try me."

Owen cringed and tugged nervously on his tail. He hated to be the bearer of bad tidings. Shere Khan always made him feel as if it were somehow his fault. His voice trembled when he said, "Railroad track."

The departmental managers muttered confusedly amongst themselves. "Railroad track?"

Khan quirked a disbelieving eyebrow. "Railroad track?"

Owen nodded. "Meant for your railroad in Zambeezee."

"I am aware of their intended destination," Khan said dryly. "What about the diamond-tipped drill bits that were also in that shipment?"

"Don Karnage said that they were worthless."

"One point five million dollars of diamond-tipped drill bits...worthless?"

"Yes, sir," said the yes-man.

While Khan silently mulled this over, he absently scraped one claw against the desk. After a few tense moments, he said impatiently, "Is that all, Owen?"

"Yes, sir." Owen, realizing that that was his cue to leave, scurried out of the room.

"Continue, Jenkins," Shere Khan said curtly.

Pirate Island
Two Weeks Later
Night

Glancing over his shoulder every few steps, Kit purposefully, yet furtively, made his way from his bedroom through the Iron Vulture. Karnage had recently decreed that anyone caught sneaking around the workshop, day or night, would be hung by their pinkies. That threat may have deterred the other pirates, but not Kit. It only made him more curious to find out what Ratchet had been building. Whatever that thing was, it made Karnage extremely happy. And since Karnage wouldn't tell him what it was, he'd just have to find out for himself.

Just as he was about to turn the corner, Kit stopped in his tracks. He had heard a noise akin to a puppy's whimper. With his back to the wall, he cautiously peeked around the corner. The boy sighed with relief when he realized that the noise was coming from Hacksaw, who had fallen asleep on guard duty. The brawny canine stood in the middle of the corridor, his arms folded across the butt of his shotgun, his head resting on his arms. As Kit tiptoed past him, he twitched slightly and let out another whimper as if he were having a bad dream.

Kit scurried through the hallway and down the stairs. As the boy hurried past the radio room, he noticed that Gibber was there. Ever since the night that Kit had heard about the stone, either Gibber or Will, Karnage's second mate, had been stationed at the radio, listening for more information about the jewel.

Quickly and quietly, Kit went out the open beak and skirted around the harbor to the cavern designated as the workshop where the pounding of a hammer and the sizzling of the welding torch could be heard at all hours of the day and night.

A fire was roaring in the large furnace, making the room feel like an oven. The tarp that usually covered the mysterious machine had been thrown off. Rachet stood on a platform, his welding mask pulled down over his face. Sparks were flying from his welding torch. For a few moments, Kit gazed at the huge contraption, constructed from an array of diverse items that had been stolen one by one from Shere Khan's cargo planes and ships.

Kit took a deep breath and strutted over to the base of the platform where Ratchet was working. "Yo!" he shouted to get the mechanic's attention.

Ratchet turned off the welding torch, pushed up his mask, and looked down at the boy. "The captain know you're here, kid?"

"The captain doesn't need to know everything," Kit replied insolently. "Need any help?"

"Sure," Ratchet said with his habitual sniff which made it seem like he had a perpetual cold. "I could use a hand."

Kit scrambled up the ladder to the platform.

Ratchet placed an industrial-strength spring up against the machine's metal frame. "Hold this there." When Kit took hold of it, the spring slipped a fraction of an inch lower. The mechanic jerked the spring up, snapping, "No, there." He flipped down his welding mask.

Kit squeezed his eyes shut to protect them from the blinding light of the welding arc. When the mechanic turned off the torch and inspected his work, the boy asked casually, "So, what's this thing for?"

"To get into Cape Suzette." Sniff.

"How?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions." He took a book from his tool belt and flipped to a marked page.

"I helped steal this stuff, I figure I got a right to know how this thing works."

Ratchet looked at Kit for a long time as if he was considering what to say. Finally, he muttered, "It's too complicated for a kid like you." Sniff.

"Try me," Kit said, peeking over the mechanic's arm at the book.

"Nuh-huh." Ratchet slammed the book shut and shoved it back into his tool belt. "The captain wouldn't like it."

Becoming frustrated at the lack of answers, Kit sputtered, "W-well...then could you give me a demonstration?"

"Can't." Sniff. "It ain't put together yet, 'cause I ain't got all the parts."

"What other parts do you need?"

Vaguely Ratchet said, "Couple of things." Sniff. "Run along, kid. It's way past your bedtime."

As he climbed down the ladder, Kit muttered under his breath, "Thanks for nothing. I hate being a kid. No one ever tells you anything."

Iron Vulture
Christmas

Like every other day for the past month, one of Shere Khan's captured cargo planes rolled into the Iron Vulture's hangar. The fact that it was Christmas made no difference to either Shere Khan, who insisted that Christmas was just another business day, or to Don Karnage, whose plan was to plunder every one of Khan's cargo planes that came his way.

Don Karnage chuckled to himself as he strolled towards the captured plane's cargo hold door. "Santa has deposited yet another present in our stockings, my mangy minions. It is time to rip off the wrappings and get to the goodies inside!"

With an excited cheer, the pirates jimmied open the door with crowbars, then hopped into the cargo hold. In the middle of the cargo hold was a single, large crate, twice as tall as it was wide. Splayed across each of the four sides of the crate was 'Fragile', 'This Side Up' in big, red letters. Through one hole in the crate, a beak protruded. Through another hole, a bulging, darting eye watched them. A tuft of purple feathers stuck out of yet another hole. A chorus of muffled squawking came from within.

But what was really noticeable was the overpowering stench.

"Ew, yuck!" Mad Dog exclaimed. His hand automatically flew to his nose. "Something smells...funny."

"Don't look at me," Dumptruck said, his hand over his own nose. "I took a bath last veek."

Due to the clothespin on his nose, the panther pilot said nasally, "I wouldn't open that if I were you."

"But you are not me. Don Karnage can leave no stone unturned, no crate unopened." He pushed a couple of other pirates closer to the crate while he, himself, moved closer to the door. "Open it!"

His eyes watering, Kit murmured, "Do we have to?"

Karnage hopped out of the plane, shouting, "I will wait out here where it is safe, I mean, so you can see the present first."

"Gee, thanks," Kit said sarcastically.

When the pirates stuck their crowbars in the crate to pry it open, the panther pilot retreated into the cockpit and slammed the door behind him. Before the pirates knew what was happening, they were engulfed in a flurry of feathers, flapping wings, and pecking beaks.

"What are these?" Kit shouted over the discordant squawking. He attempted to shield his face with his hands while struggling to push their assailants back into the crate.

"Gor..." Mad Dog coughed, then spit a feather out of his mouth. "Gorilla birds! Ow! Get away from me, you stupid bird! That's my nose, not your dinner!"

Finally, after struggling for several minutes, they managed to corral the birds in the crate. The pirates, tired, sweaty, reeking, and covered in feathers and peck marks, fled from the cargo hold moments before the plane flew out of the hangar.

With a wan laugh, Don Karnage said, "Merry...Christmas?"

The pirates collapsed in a heap.

Pirate Island
New Year's Eve

Leaning against the wall in the main cavern, Kit ran a finger underneath the uncomfortable elastic band that strapped his party hat to his head. He felt stupid wearing the purple polka-dotted hat, but pretending to enjoy the lame New Year's Eve party was the perfect excuse for keeping tabs on Don Karnage. At the moment, the pirate captain was immensely enjoying sitting on his throne-like chair in the middle of the cave, a real gold crown on his well-groomed head, barking orders to the minions who were waiting on him hand and foot.

For more than a month, Kit had been trying to figure out Karnage's zealously guarded secret behind the mysterious, monstrous machine in the workshop. But more importantly, he wanted to know about Karnage's plans to steal the jewel. Every day, he became more and more impatient to quit the air pirates. The boy knew that only by sticking close to the captain would he get the answers he'd been looking for.

Kit was momentarily distracted from his self-appointed surveillance when Mad Dog and Dumptruck walked past him towards the winding passageway that led to the outdoor ledge where Karnage liked to sunbathe.

"This year, we're gonna bring the New Year in with a bang," Mad Dog said with a nasal chuckle.

Dumptruck followed him, carrying a large crate. From the top of the crate protruded rockets and coils of fuse. "Yeah, vith lots and lots of firevorks!"

"And they say kids shouldn't play with matches," Kit muttered under his breath. His eyes wandered around the room, wondering how much longer the so-called party was going to last.

Except for Don Karnage smacking Sadie for bringing him green grapes instead of purple, the most exciting thing happening was over by the refreshment table where Hal and Hacksaw were arguing over the last cookie.

Kit strolled over to them. "Hey, guys. Whoa!" he gasped, pretending to be astonished by something behind them. "What's that over there?"

When both pirates spun around to look, Kit swiped the cookie and hurried away.

"What's the big idea, kid?" Hal said, turning towards the table. "There's nothin' there." He looked down at the empty plate, crestfallen. "There's nothin' here either."

Hacksaw peered under the rickety card table, searching for the cookie. "Where'd it go?"

In a shadowy corner of the cave, on the opposite side of the room from the refreshment table, Kit gobbled down the stale chocolate chip cookie. As he wiped the crumbs from his sweater, he noticed Gibber enter the cave and whisper something into Don Karnage's ear.

Karnage nodded at Gibber, then shouted, "The party is over! Everyone, go away!"

"But it isn't midnight yet, Captain," Hal pointed out.

"WhenI say it's midnight, it's midnight! Go!" To emphasize his point, he drew his pistol and shot at the ceiling, causing them to be showered with rocks.

Grumbling amongst themselves, the pirates filed out of the room. Kit, however, flattened himself to the stalagmite he was hiding behind and listened with all his might.

When it appeared that only Karnage and Gibber remained, the captain said, "Now, tell me all the little, minuet detailings that Khan's chatty pilots spilled all over the radio and into your listening ear."

Kit, knowing that his whole future depended on this, strained to hear what Gibber was muttering into the captain's eager ear.

"Tomorrow from the power plant in NoSmokey Mountains to Cape Suzette for more testings?"

With a nod, Gibber murmured briefly.

"Starting from the mountains at 3 PM? Good," Karnage said with a business-like air. "We will steal it then."

Gibber muttered something else into the pirate captain's ear.

"Who cares about the rest of the cargo?" Karnage said impatiently. "It is expandable."

Just then, Kit accidentally kicked a pebble. The unlucky pebble skidded across the rocky floor, bouncing off other rocks and stalagmites like a ball inside a pinball machine, making a noisy, echoing racket in the large, silent cavern.

Don Karnage was immediately on his feet. "What's that? Who's there? Show your miserable self, or I will show my sword to you!" Swift as summer lightning, he drew his sword from his scabbard, prompting Gibber to jump out of the way. The pirate captain pivoted to the north, to the east, to the south, then to the west, scanning the remotest recesses of the cave. Spying the edge of Kit's red bandana peeking out from behind the stalagmite, he said in a triumphant, sing-song voice, "I am seeing you! Whoever you are, I will slice you and dice you into a million fragments for listening to Karnage's secrets!"

Kit's heart pounded in sync with Karnage's boots, which were coming closer...

Closer...

Kit silently cursed himself for getting stuck in a corner with no exit. His mind raced to conjure up a plausible excuse for being there. Suddenly, he looked down and, seeing something, bent down to scoop it up.

"Got you, boy!" Karnage swooped down on Kit and picked him up by the scruff of the neck. "Now..." the pirate captain snarled, his razor-sharp teeth mere inches from the boy's face. "What have you to say for your pipping-squeak self?"

"Get your own cockroach!" Kit retorted.

"C-cockroach?" Karnage sputtered in surprise.

"Cockroach. For the races." The boy opened his hand to reveal a cockroach munching on a cookie crumb. He held it close to Karnage's face.

Repulsed, Karnage dropped the boy. When Kit hit the ground with a 'thump', the roach fell from his hand.

"Ew, ew, ew! Nasty creepy-crawly!" The pirate captain skewered the insect with the tip of his sword.

Kit scrambled to his feet and was about to make a break for it when Karnage caught him by his scarf. He threw the boy to the ground and wagged his finger at him. "Ah-ah-ah. I'm not through dealing with you yet." He raised his sword high above his head, a murderous gleam in his eyes.

Trembling in terror, Kit huddled on the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, determined not to cry out in pain.

Just when he had thought he had drawn his last breath, there were several loud, screaming whistles, followed by cave-shaking booms!

Kit opened his eyes just in time to see Gibber and Karnage being chased, yelling and screaming, around the room by a blazing rocket. Thankful for Mad Dog and Dumptruck's stupidity, he lost no time in making his escape.

Riversidle
New Year's Eve

Rebecca, clad in a nightgown and robe, was lounging on the living room couch. Beside her, the radio was playing softly.

"...Dirk Cluck bringing you the New Year's Eve party from Cape Suzette. The main square is packed as the clock approaches midnight..."

But she really wasn't interested in anything Dirk Cluck was saying. All she could think about was the failing business she had learned about earlier today. Air cargo sounded so adventurous and romantic. Her thoughts were consumed with the places she would go and the things she would do, not to mention all the money she would make.

While Rebecca's thoughts were fixated on a fitting, yet memorable name for an air cargo business, Molly padded down the stairs and into the living room with Lucy in tow. Through a yawn, the little girl said, "Is it next year yet?"

"No, and you should be in bed, young lady."

"But me and Lucy wanna see next year. Pleeeeease?"

"Oh, all right," Rebecca said reluctantly, wondering how Molly always managed to get around her. "But just until midnight, then straight back to bed."

"Yay!" Molly hopped up on the couch beside her mother and snuggled up next to her.

Rebecca wrapped her arms around the little girl and kissed the top of her head. "A lot of good things are going to happen for us in 1937. I may have found us an air cargo business today."

"You mean, one with a plane?" Molly asked excitedly.

Rebecca nodded. "With a plane. It's in Cape Suzette."

"Where's Cape Suzette?"

"It's about an hour's drive from here, near the ocean. We'll have to pack up all our stuff and move there."

"When?"

"As soon as the bank forecloses on the loan. The current owner is six months behind on his payments."

"When will that be?"

Rebecca smiled at the note of impatience in her daughter's voice. "The man at the bank said that he was giving Baloo, that's the current owner, until the end of next week, and if he doesn't pay, we're going to buy it and make lots of money shipping cargo all over the world."

"Baloo's a funny name," Molly remarked.

Rebecca gave her a fond smile. "It is unusual, but the bank said he's a terrific pilot."

"A pilot?" Molly exclaimed. "Think he'll take me on plane rides? Think he'll teach me and Lucy how to fly?" She 'flew' her doll through the air, making engine noises.

"Maybe, honey," Rebecca said with a twinge of anxiety. For the first time she wondered what kind of a man she would be exposing her young, impressionable daughter to. She had a vague idea that pilots were irresponsible, free spirits who needed a lot of discipline. It was obvious that this one especially needed discipline, because he certainly didn't know how to run a business.

As Molly continued to play airplane with Lucy, Rebecca's gaze turned to the window behind the back of the couch. She smiled. Their future seemed as bright as the stars that shone in the sky.

Louie's
New Year's Eve

To the southwest, the same stars were twinkling over Louie's Place. It was nearly midnight, but the party had just begun to be in full swing. Music blaring from the nightclub could have been heard from miles away. Simian waiters balancing trays of frothy fruit drinks swung on ropes above the crowded dance floor where the most energetic dancer was Baloo.

When the jazzy tune ended, Baloo headed over to bar, panting a little.

Behind the bar, Louie was mixing up a fruity drink, his long arms and legs seeming to be everywhere at once. "Hey, check out that chick by the stage, cuz. I know who I wanna be kissin' when the clock strikes twelve."

Baloo, catching a glimpse of the young, raven-haired vixen, grinned as he plumped down on a barstool. "Roger that. Some party, huh?"

"Not bad for a night's work," Louie replied, taking a couple of shaboozies from a customer and stuffing them into his overflowing cash register till.

"Work." Baloo cringed as if the word offended him. "As my ol' daddy used to say: work is fine for killin' time, but it's a shaky way to make a livin'."

Louie chuckled. "Yeah, but for us who didn't inherit a ka-jillion shaboozies and who like three squares a day and a roof over our heads, work is the only way to make a livin'."

Grumpily, Baloo muttered under his breath, "Work ain't my definition of livin'."

Baloo's expression grew thoughtful as he absently stared at the crowd. This was as far away from work as he could possibly get. Therefore, he should have been ecstatically happy. He loved to party, loved dancing, loved to mingle with others, and especially loved flirting with pretty girls, but tonight he wasn't in the mood. In fact, he was a little bored. All the faces seemed the same. Even the music seemed old. Or maybe it was him that was getting old. For the first time in his life, he considered leaving a party early. He felt as if he needed to spend time with a friend who had never let him down, who never made him feel old, who never made him feel lonely, namely the Sea Duck. Flying always cheered him up by providing a way to escape the troubles of the world.

"Earth to Baloo." Louie blew a noisemaker in Baloo's face, startling the big bear. "What's with the long face?"

"Whatcha mean?" Baloo quickly assumed an overly bright smile. "I'm flyin' high."

"You got that right," Louie said with a knowing look. "Your head has been in the clouds all night. C'mon, cuz, ditch the deception an' dish the dirt. You can't fool your oldest and bestest pal."

Baloo shrugged. The smile slid from his face. "Just antsy in the pantsy, I guess. Holidays always get me a little down in the dumpster."

Louie had been friends with Baloo for such a long time that he knew what the big bear had left unspoken. Holidays were a time for being with family and, being a middle-aged bachelor with no family himself, he suspected what Baloo was feeling. He conveyed his sympathy through a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Ol' Doc Louie's got the sure cure for the blues, Baloo. One Mango Fizz, heavy on the fizz."

"Thanks, my man."

"Now, I'm gonna go personally welcome that dishy dame to Louie's fine establishment." He licked his palm, removed his hat, and slicked back what remained of his thinning hair before nimbly vaulting over the bar.

Baloo downed the drink in one gulp, then passed the back of his hand across his mouth. "Not if I beat you to her."

Khan Towers
New Year's Eve

The downtown streets of Cape Suzette were packed with revelers, eager to usher in the new year with music, dancing, and fireworks. In the middle of the square, people of all ages and species were gathered around the stage from where Dirk Cluck was introducing the next act.

"Looks like we have time for one more song in 1936," Dirk Cluck, the popular emcee, said into the microphone. "Ladies and gentleman, the Gandrews Sisters!"

The crowd let out a deafening roar as the newest singing sensations, the Gandrews Sisters, took their places at the microphones and the band started playing.

Ninety stories above, a dropped pin could have been heard in the quiet, serene office of Shere Khan.

Khan stood at the large window, gazing out over Cape Suzette. Clad in a black monogrammed, silk robe with a drink in his hand, he mulled over the past year and thought about the year to come. Below him, the people were only thinking of tonight. They weren't gifted with his far-seeing vision, a necessary trait for making him the wealthiest man in the world.

And thanks to the sub-electron amplifier, which would revolutionize the way power was generated, he would become more rich and more powerful. As of next week, all the electric power he needed or would ever need would be produced by something that fit in the palm of his hand.

When the fireworks were let off over the cliffs, signifying the beginning of the new year, he raised his crystal champagne glass. "To 1937...and the future."

Meanwhile...
Riversidle

Amid the cheering on the radio, Rebecca hugged Molly with a joyful, "Happy New Year, honey."

Meanwhile...
Louie's

When Baloo and Louie both tried to kiss the raven-haired vixen's cheeks, she ducked, causing them to kiss each other.

"Yee-uck!" Baloo cried, spluttering.

"Blech!" Louie spat. He grabbed someone's drink from a nearby table and gargled with its contents.

Meanwhile...
Pirate Island

Fireworks were still popping and whistling throughout Pirate Island, filling the caverns with smoke.

Amid the fireworks, Don Karnage lifted his glass and choked out, "To the future, and the beginning of a new error."

Kit, who had fled to his favorite 'thinking cave', following his near brush with death was now more determined than ever to escape Pirate Island. He looked out over the dark, rolling waters, sprinkled with the light of a million stars and illuminated with the intermittent, multi-colored flashes of fireworks. "Only one more week to freedom," he murmured to himself.

One Week Later
Thursday Afternoon
Khan Towers

An extremely nervous Dr. Debolt was alternately pacing and hopping in front of Shere Khan's huge desk.

Always calm, cool, and composed, Khan drawled from behind his newspaper, "Calm yourself, Doctor."

Dr. Debolt paced even more furiously. "Do you know how many hours have gone into this? All the research, the trials, the failures, the..."

"The stone will arrive at my power plant." The businessman leisurely turned a page in the newspaper.

"But the pirates!" the scientist squeaked. "They've hijacked every plane in the last three weeks!"

"My best pilot is flying my fastest plane to get it there. Besides, other than the pilot, yourself, and myself, no one knows of the stone's whereabouts."

"What if it falls into the pirates' hands?"

"Then they'll receive a nasty shock, won't they?" Shere Khan smiled grimly at the skittish rabbit.

Before Dr. Debolt could open his mouth to offer one more protest, Khan folded the newspaper and placed it on his desk. "If Don Karnage does steal it, he won't know what it is. Your secret is safe, Doctor."

"But...!"

Khan held up a hand. "Furthermore, Karnage recently seems to be only interested in hardware, not jewels." He picked up a list and read from it. "Wire, flagpoles, railroad track, glass tubing." He pushed the list in Dr. Debolt's direction. "If you can tell me how Don Karnage is going to profit off these items, then I'll listen to your concerns."

"But...!"

"Good day." Shere Khan once more retreated behind the newspaper, an irrefutable signal that the matter was closed.

Knowing that he couldn't argue with the great and powerful Shere Khan, Dr. Debolt picked up the list and left.

Meanwhile...
Baloo's Air Service

With a nail protruding from the corner of his mouth and a hammer in his hand, Wildcat knelt on a loose floorboard in the office.

"I'm headin' to Louie's, Wildcat," Baloo said as he came down the stairs, skirting around all the boxes and junk piled on them. He didn't normally spend this much time at Louie's, but he had to go somewhere and do something. He could only sleep and eat so much, and frankly, he was a little bored, but not bored enough to work. He was never that bored. "Can you take a peek at the sewer lines while I'm gone? I think they're plugged up somewheres. The bathroom has a funny smell to it."

"Funnier than usual?" Wildcat murmured around the nail.

"Yeah. Thanks!" Baloo said, banging the door shut on his way out.

Just after he nailed the floorboard down, the mechanic heard:

Ring! Ring!

Surprised, Wildcat looked at his hammer. "You say something?"

Ring! Ring!

"Oh, it's the telephone!" he realized with a good-natured laugh.

Ring! Ring!

Wildcat dug underneath a pile of papers, following the sound of the ringing, to find the phone. "Hello? Uh-huh. Nope, he's not here right now. Uh-huh. Sure. I'll give him a message. You're going to stop by later today to discuss the...what? Fore-close-sure." He sounded out the unfamiliar word slowly. "Yup. Sure. I'll tell him. 'Kay, bye." He hung the receiver back on the cradle, crossed the room, and opened a trap door in the floor. He then dropped his hammer into one pocket of his grimy overalls, and fished a wrench out of another pocket. "Come on, Silver, we've got to find a poor little plugged up sewer pipe." Whistling, he disappeared down the ladder into the basement.

Meanwhile...
Riversidle

Rebecca hung up the phone and turned to her daughter. "Well, that does it. If we buy the business, the movers will bring the rest of our things to Cape Suzette tomorrow."

"Now can we go?" Molly said impatiently.

"Yes, Pumpkin," Rebecca said, patting her daughter's golden head.

"Yay!" Molly rushed outside to the car with Lucy in tow.

Rebecca gathered her purse, suitcase, and her daughter's suitcase, then gave one last look around the room. Except for the boxes and furniture piled in the entry way, ready for the movers to pick up, the house was bare.

At any other time, she would have cried, but her excitement about the future outweighed her sorrow about letting go of part of the past. Smiling, she walked out of the house for the last time and shut the door.

She placed the suitcases into the car's trunk alongside a couple of boxes containing bedding and other personal items. In order to be at the Cape Suzette National Bank first thing in the morning, they were going to drive there this afternoon and stay in a motel overnight. Rebecca wanted to make sure that no one snapped up the air cargo service that she had mentally dubbed Higher for Hire before her.

After getting into the driver's seat, Rebecca grinned over at Molly, who was fairly bursting with excitement.

"Lucy is real happy we're gonna buy a business and an airplane."

Laughing, Rebecca playfully tweaked the little girl's nose. Molly had talked of nothing but airplanes all week. "I'm with Lucy," she said, starting the car.

Meanwhile...
Iron Vulture

Kit, hiding in the vent, heard Don Karnage and a few other pirates clomp towards the control room. His heart was pounding, his hands were sweating, his nerves were pushed to the breaking point. This was it. This was the day that he was going to escape from the air pirates. However, the only way out was through everything he was running from, meaning that he had to escape quickly; otherwise, the pirates would kill him for what he was about to do. He mentally prepared himself for the chase of his life.

His spirits rose when the small treasure chest Karnage clutched came into view. The chest alone could be worth something, but the jewel that he knew to be inside was worth a fortune. It was his ticket out of there.

Kit jumped, slightly startled, when Don Karnage cleared the table directly below him with one sweep of his arm. Charts, pens, and ink went flying onto the floor. The pirate captain then reverently placed the chest in the center of the rough wooden table.

"Riches, my men. Riches beyond your limited, insignificant dreams. But not beyond mine." The pirate captain's laugh held a hint of insanity. "For soon, I, Don Karnage, shall be the wealthiest man in the world!" Chortling, he spun around happily.

Here goes everything... Kit thought. Taking a deep breath, he kicked the vent grate open and jumped down into the room.

The End