Author's Notes: I've had two reviews. TWO! Come on, y'all, give me a little more than that!
Chapter 2: Helping Hands Gone Array
We hadn't been traveling long before we came to Terra Atmosia to pick up some kids. While we were landed, Finn shouted, "Herplosheimer's! Herplosheimer's!"
All the kids cheered and ran toward the window. I lingered a little bit, but even I had to admit I was interested in seeing the world's best and biggest toy store.
Stork, however, was in distress. "No! Keep your grubby hands off the window! I just cleaned it! You'll get hand sansies on it!"
"Uh, what are hand sansies?" Junko asked innocently.
"They crawl around on your hands, gradually eating away at your flesh."
That silenced pretty much everyone around us. Some of us were giving Stork weird looks.
Most, however, were looking at Herplosheimer's toy store.
They had their Christmas display out. There were fake presents wrapped up with mechanical elves "working" on others. Along with the display were real toys, including dolls, blocks, skimmer models, and spinning tops.
"Dude, look at all those presents!" Finn exclaimed. His nose was almost pressed up against the glass. "I want all of 'em!"
His buddy Junko, on the other hand, wasn't being so selfish and annoying. "It's so Christmassy and cozy and pretty!" he exclaimed.
However, I had my eyes on one thing in that display. In it, I could see Santa Claus putting presents under a tree. Every time he turned around, it was possible to see the steel wheel in his back, part of his gears.
I shook my head. Like every Santa I had ever seen, this mechanical Santa was a fake. And people actually expected us to believe this stuff?
Just then, I heard Stork cry, "Tickets! Tickets! Unless you want to see horrible, unmistakable doom!"
Well, that got everyone off the window. Everyone got back in their usual places and started digging in their pockets.
Ticket? I suddenly felt a fearful flush in my face. I didn't have a ticket!
So of course, Stork had to come to me first. "Ticket," he said curtly, brandishing a hole puncher. It looked like some sort of dangerous weapon in his hands.
I shook my head at him. I had no ticket. I never had a ticket for this ship.
"Try your pocket," Stork told me.
I dug into my pocket only to find the hole I had torn in it when I had dashed out of the house.
Stork rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The other pocket."
"Well, you didn't exactly specify," I answered back moodily. I knew that wasn't what I should have said, but really, he didn't have to make me look stupid!
I dug into my other pocket . . . and froze. Slowly I pulled out a stiff piece of paper and stared at it. It was a ticket! And the most beautiful ticket I had ever seen! It was pure gold in color with a beautiful, metallic sheen. On one side it had a picture of the Condor Express. On the other side, it said, "Condor Express," and below that, "ROUND TRIP." Below that, at the bottom middle was a symbol of a hawk taking wing, the same symbol I had seen in blue painted on either side of the Condor Express and done in red on the round table.
Stork snatched the ticket out of my hands before I was done examining it. "Thank you, ma'am." He then proceeded to spray my beautiful ticket with disinfectant before finally hole punching it. He punched it so fast that I could hardly see what he was doing. Little golden dots fluttered in a cloud around us until he was finally done. Then he handed the ticket back to me.
Just as he did that, another kid was heading toward something. Finn had spotted him. "Hey, watch out, there!" he called, diving in after him. The kid was headed for a lever, and Finn seemed determined to beat him to it.
Stork's ears stood on end at the sound of that, and he squeaked. "Don't touch that!" he cried. "That is not a toy! You'll doom us all if you lay a single finger . . . !"
I, however, tuned them out while I looked at what Stork had done to my ticket. I held it up in the air, staring at the patterns of holes. On one end he had made a series of holes that formed the letter B. On the other end he had made the letter E.
"Boy, that wise guy sure likes to show off with that ticket punch."
I groaned when I heard the voice. Finn had come back over.
Finn shoved the ticket in my face. "Look what he did to mine!"
As if I cared. He held it sideways, anyway, so that I was tilting my head in order to try to read it.
"L E," Finn told me. "What the heck does that mean?"
"How should I know?" I retorted.
By this time, Stork appeared to have gotten everyone's tickets and was planning on taking us to the next stop.
We headed to Terra Greemus next. A bunch of hippies got on. Even though they were in their pajamas like the rest of us, their clothes were very loud, and they all smelled kind of . . . strange. If you got anywhere near one of them, the conversation would either turn to saving the environment or free love.
I care about the wild lands of Atmos, too, but my tolerance has limits. I stayed as far away from them as possible. And I wasn't the only one. A lot of us avoided them; even Finn didn't both to pester them.
A couple more stops meant a couple more kids. On one dusty mining terra, we picked up a kid named Chuckie, who seemed able to pester Finn as much as Finn pestered everyone else.
On the next terra, the most annoying boy I ever met came on, even worse than Finn. He had black hair and huge glasses, as well as rather large, chubby middle. When he first got on, he blinked at me owlishly and said, "Do you know what kinda ship this is?"
"What?" I repeated, totally bewildered.
"It's a magic ship!" Junko answered him, just as he told me earlier.
"Actually," the boy said, "it's a . . ."
He began rattling off some sort of model and make name that even I couldn't follow. And his date for its creation: about 120 years ago.
Old ship.
"I'm Noob," he said once he was done.
"Piper," I told him graciously. But I made a point of losing him in the crowd.
However, as we started toward the next terra, I started noticing that we weren't going north but rather west. "Stork, I thought we were going to Polar Terra?"
"We are," Stork answered. "But I had to go all the way south first, and as you know, Cyclonia has conquered the Northern Kingdoms, and so we're doing a little bit of . . . skimming . . . in order to avoid certain doom."
"But this is a magic ship," I argued. "Why would wars disturb you?"
"We may be magic," Stork answered back, "but we're very much real. And Cyclonians tend to have a 'shoot now, ask questions later' policy. Makes getting to their terras difficult."
"You pick up Cyclonians?" I was shocked.
"Aren't they, like, all on the naughty list?" Finn's the one who asked that. I seethed. He was standing right behind me.
"No, they're not," Stork grumbled back irritably to Finn. "Cyclonians celebrate Christmas, too, just like the rest of the Atmos."
Well, you can't keep calling a guy creepy when he says something that accepting.
So soon we dipped into the outer edges of Cyclonian territory. Stork assured me that we would leave after this one stop but that we'd had several other "dips" into the territory before we finally shot on north.
I was peering out the ship as we landed on the terra. It was a sad place. Most of it seemed burned or destroyed. The entire place seemed gray and full of desolation. I wasn't sure what I was expecting of a Cyclonian terra, but this wasn't it.
Stork took the intercom down, like he always did when we made a stop. "Terra Nimbus," he announced.
We landed in a clearing just outside of town, next to what appeared to be some sort of dump or maybe a small landfill.
I looked around. In Atmosia, we had stopped in a street; in Greemus, it had been a neighborhood much like mine. But this place . . . who could possibly live here?
All the same, Stork lowered the plank and went down, calling out, "All aboard!" as he did at every stop. Then he stood rigid and waited.
I went out onto the deck to look. Though I'd heard awful things about Cyclonians, I was interested to see the real damage. I knew Terra Nimbus was a conquered terra. Many of the people who lived here still didn't even think of themselves as Cyclonian, even though they were forced to live under the Cyclonian government.
At first I saw no movement anywhere, even when Stork called, "All aboard!" once again.
But then there was a rustling sound. It was coming by a dumpster settled near the side of a building. A little furry animal, monkey-like in shape with a rabbit-like head, jumped out and scurried into the open. What caught my eye about the creature was that it wore clothes. It must be a pet. But where was its owner?
In answer, a boy came running out of the darkness, stopping next to the animal and panting, his hands on his knees. One look at him, and I wished I had stayed inside and minded my own business. He seemed covered from head to toe in filth, and his face was red with cold. His jacket could hardly be called sufficient for winter; it looked more like a spring rain jacket. As for his hair, well, it was a little nuts, a crazy mop of red. I kind of wondered whether it was due to lack of care or whether it wouldn't even cooperate under normal, clean circumstances. It certainly didn't look tamable from here.
Stork seemed unfazed by the boy's appearance. On the contrary, he looked rather relieved that he had finally arrived. The Merb was probably thinking about his schedule again. "Well?" he asked the boy. "Are you coming?"
The sound of his voice made the little animal next to the boy stand up on its hind legs and sniff at Stork questionably. The boy responded, but he spoke too softly for me to hear from where I was at. He was still huffing as if he'd just run a mile.
The boy must have asked where the ship was going because Stork answered, "Why, to Polar Terra! This is the Condor Express!" And he gestured to the ship. It was his usual speech and his usual emphasis on his awesome ship.
But instead of getting on the ship, like every other kid had done when they heard that speech, the redhead took a page from my book; he took a step back uncertainly.
But unlike with me, Stork didn't seem to want to argue this one. "Suit yourself. You'll probably suffer terrible doom either way." And with that, he turned and walked up the gang plank.
"Don't remind me!" the boy called after him.
Just then, I thought I heard a distant shout. A man. He was saying something like . . . "He went this way!"?
Apparently the boy and his pet had heard it, too. The creature's ears and fur were standing on end, and the boy straightened up at once, his breath catching in his throat. He whirled around.
Just then, two Talons ran out of the darkness toward the ship, one shouting, "There he is!"
The redhead turned back to the ship and sprinted for the plank. "Never mind!" he yelled up to Stork. "We're coming!"
By "we," he must have meant his animal, too. The furry thing squawked in alarm and scrambled after the boy when it realized he was heading into the ship.
I came back in, not quite sure what to make of the whole scene I had just witnessed. Well, I thought, that was eventful.
I waited for the boy and animal near the door. I couldn't help my curiosity. I mean, what could be more curious then picking up a pitiful-looking kid and his pet on a conquered terra while they were being chased by Talons?
But when Stork walked through the door, the boy he was leading after him hesitated in the doorway. His pet, who seemed to have expected him to keep going, ran right into him and fell over backward.
The boy scanned the crowd with his eyes, and instead of being interested, he seemed to shrink into the corridor behind him. I didn't think he looked all that fearful, just . . . cautious? Nervous? Untrusting? Whatever it was, the boy turned around and headed for a room down the hall. His pet looked out into the bridge and whimpered as if it wanted to come in where it was warm, but instead it turned and followed its boy.
Stork didn't seem disturbed by the boy and animal going the wrong way. He watched them walk down the hall, seemed to note what room they went in, and then went to the helm to get the intercom. "Okay, kids . . ."
But no one could hear him. They were all talking too loud. I only knew what he was saying because I had followed him over to the helm.
"Hey, kids . . ." Stork tried again. No good. "SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE VERMIN!"
Instant silence. Well, that worked.
"THANK YOU!" Stork said, still shouting. Then he cleared his throat pleasantly. "Your attention, please. Are there any Condor Express passengers in need of refreshment?"
Everyone smiled at that and raised their hands excitedly, saying, "Me! Me, me!"
"I thought so," Stork answered. "Now be forewarned: Watch out for any hasckler venom in your refreshment. Liquefies your bones. No cure."
Everyone stopped cheering at that. Gosh, Stork really did know how to cheer everyone up!
And without saying more, he allowed a number of men dressed in robes to go past him. "Chef Steward, everyone!" Stork called.
Chef Steward looked over all the kids. "Ready for the finest chocolates and candies in the world?"
All the kids cheered at that. Even me. I mean, who wouldn't want that?
The robed men call came out into the aisle, tap dancing right in front of our eyes. "Hot, hot!" they chanted.
"Oh, we got it!" Steward called as he wheeled in the cocoa in a huge, silver thermos.
"Hot, hot!"
"Hey, we got it!"
"Hot, hot!"
"Say, we got it!"
"Hot chocolate!"
Stork lowered his ears as he stood at the helm and drove. "I hate it when they do that singing chant thing," he grumbled.
While they chanted, they began tossing out mugs onto platters held by other waiters. Surprisingly, not a single one fell and broke. These guys were good. And I kind of liked their chanting. It was cheery.
"Hot, hot!"
"Oh, we got it!"
"Hot, hot!"
"So we got it!"
"Hot, hot!"
"Yo, we got it!"
"Hot chocolate!"
The chef continued to chant in an almost rap-like tone:
"Here we only have on rule:
Never, ever let it cool!
Keep it cooking in the pot.
Then you got—"
"Hot chocolate!" the waiters finished.
Then they began the whole chant over again while they served us all at superfast speed . . . and still dancing!
"Here's where the singing part comes in," Stork warned.
Sure enough, when the chef began his chant for the second time, the waiters began echoing him in song. During this time, they were also serving us chocolate candies with nougat centers as white as snow. It was all so wonderful!
Once the chef and waiters left, we all settled into chairs, couches, on tables, and even on the floor, anywhere we could sit down. Hot chocolate has a way of making everyone sleepy.
The only ones still talking were Noob and Finn. Big surprise.
At least Noob's conversation was somewhat intelligent. He was telling the guy next to him about Emperor Shag of the Sixth Dynasty. "He would drink 50 quarts of hot chocolate a day," he said. "It was thick as mud and red because he put chilly pepper in it instead of sugar. Get it? Hot chocolate?"
"How do you know that?" Finn retorted. "That's not true!"
It so was true. I knew it from a book I read. But I wasn't about to jump into a conversation with those two.
Just then, I noticed Junko getting something out from under his chair. He was trying to be discrete, but because of his size, he wasn't very good at that.
As I watched, I saw him draw a cup of hot chocolate out from under his chair. Apparently he had stolen it. I immediately assumed he would drink it. After all, he'd tried to go back for seconds three times during the serving; the waiters had to literally push him away from their thermos of chocolate and platters of candies.
But he didn't consume it. Instead, he got up and started heading toward the corridor.
"Where are you going with that?" I asked him.
"It's for him," Junko answered. He gestured down the hallway with his head, and I immediately knew he was talking about the redhead with the animal.
"I don't think we're supposed to leave the bridge," I told him with concern. He was such a nice guy. I didn't want him to get in trouble.
Of course, Finn had to put his own donation. "Yeah, you can't just go wandering around a strange guy's ship!"
Junko shrugged. "I think I'll be okay." And with that, he started toward the door again.
"Are you sure?" I asked in concern.
"Yeah," he answered. And with that, he disappeared down the hall.
Just when he had left, I glanced over at his seat. "Oh, no," I said. "He forgot his ticket! It hasn't been punched!"
"Just leave it there," Finn said. "He'll find it."
I looked around at all the people in the room. "Honestly, Finn," I said, "anyone can lose something in here! It's crazy!" I looked down the hallway. "I better take this to him."
Finn shook his head. "You're gonna get us all in trouble, ya know!"
I ignored him and headed out into the hall.
As I went, I noticed an open window in what appeared to be a kitchen. The air was cold and frosty outside, and it seemed stupid to have the window hanging open. So without thinking, I went to close it.
No sooner had I gotten within a foot of it when I felt the ticket slip through my fingers. "No!" I cried. But it was too late. The ticket went soaring out into the night air.
I'd lost Junko's ticket!