Cyberpunk: An underwater dystopia

[JCM]

12. Now or Never

 

“Joe? Joe, pick up! Damn it, Joe, where are you?”

 

James Milton, mayor of Alveus, turned off his wristphone and slammed it on his office desk.

 

“Sir,” said Milton’s aide, walking in.

 

“What?” said the mayor.

 

“Joe’s body was found just outside of the police station. He was stabbed to death.”

 

“Damn, damn, damn!” screamed Milton, kicking at his desk and ignoring the resulting pain in his foot. “Why does everything have to go wrong today?”

 

Milton turned on his wristphone and dialed a number. A hologram of a fish in a suit then appeared from the wristphone.

 

“How may I help you?” said the fish.

 

“Don’t give me any of that crap,” said Milton. “I ordered a robot army 15 minutes ago, right after the signal came back, and I have yet to see a single robot here!”

 

“Don’t fret,” said the fish. “I always make good on my promises.”

 

“You’d better! Just because you’re Cecil Carpfish doesn’t mean I’ll let you get away with ripping me off!”

 

“You’ll get your robots.”

 

Cecil disconnected, leaving the mayor with only his aide to converse with.

 

“What do we do now?” asked the aide.

”We wait,” replied Milton. “Wait and hope.”

 

----

 

The jet-boat that carried SpongeBryan, Pat, Ron, Jim, Sam, and Wally stopped in front of the city line.

 

“This is crazy,” said Pat. “Cyclops plans to kill every single person in the Upper Ring and make some kind of celebration out of it?

 

“Yes, and we have seven hours to stop it,” said Wally.

 

“That’s plenty of time!” said Ron.

 

“It may seem that way,” said Wally. “But remember that Cyclops is smart. He probably knew that SpongeBryan would come back, and he’s probably doing everything in his power to make sure that he doesn’t disrupt the ceremony. We have to strike him now, while he least expects us. Then we’ll have a fighting chance.”

 

SpongeBryan, Wally, and the rest of them made their way to the Upper Ring, hiding whenever the oppurtunity arose. Before long, SpongeBryan found himself alone behind a tree, yards away from the Upper Ring denizens, who were chained together where Cyclops first found them and were watching helplessly as mutants tied explosives to their homes.

 

“I guess this is where it all ends,” said Octhomas, rubbing bruises on his body with a broken tentacle.

 

“Man, he looks really defeated,” whispered SpongeBryan.

 

“I know,” whispered Ron, who was right behind him.

 

SpongeBryan covered his mouth to suppress a scream.

 

“Don’t do that!” he snapped. “I could’ve blown it for us all!”

 

“I’m sorry,” whispered Ron. “I didn’t mean to…”

 

“It’s alright. Just be more careful from now on.”

 

“We just wanted to know if you’d see where Jim and the others went,” interjected Pat.

 

“No, I didn’t. I thought they were with you,” said SpongeBryan. “Even with these headlamps on, it’s hard to know where anybody is without the streetlights.”

 

Suddenly, a cry from behind one of the houses on the opposite side of the lane: “A fugitive! We’ve caught ourselves a fugitive!”

 

A pair of mutants hovered into view with Sam clutched in their arms.

 

“I’ll get the boss! You make sure he doesn’t escape!” said one of the mutants.

 

The other mutant nodded, then winked in the direction of SpongeBryan. SpongeBryan realized that the mutant was Wally.

 

“What’s going on?” whispered Ron.

 

“I think that Wally’s setting some kind of trap,” replied SpongeBryan.

The first mutant flew off towards the mayor’s office, and Wally, staring back at SpongeBryan, gestured toward the mutant with his hand. Understanding immediately, SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron chased after the mutant, while Wally and his father stayed close to the chained-together captives.

 

----

 

Milton paced back and forth in his office, not knowing what to do next.

 

“Should we go out there?” wondered his aide.

 

“Are you crazy? Whoever’s running that insurgency will put a laser through my brain for sure! It’s better just to wait this thing out for now.”

 

“You spineless little man,” came a voice from outside.

 

“Jim Carpfish?”gasped Milton as he saw Jim crawl into his office through an open window. “What are you doing here?”

 

“What am I doing here?” replied Jim. “What are you doing here? Your city is about to get demolished, and you’re not doing a thing about it!”

 

“Well, what am I supposed to do? My chief of police is dead, and the robots I ordered from Cecil aren’t even here! I’m out of options.”

 

“Wait, you ordered robots from my dad?”

 

“Yeah, I told him to program the robots to kill any and all mutants they encounter in the Upper Ring.”

 

“Oh no! Wally, Pat and Ron! You have to tell my dad to send the robots back!”

 

“What? Why would I do that? If the robots even do come, it’ll be a gift.”

 

Jim looked out the window with concern. “Oh, they’re coming. Dad always keeps his promises.”

 

Suddenly, the door of Milton’s office exploded. Cyclops strolled through the heat and fire and wiped a bit of ash off the shoulder of his uniform.

 

“Who said I don’t know how to make an entrance?” he bragged.

 

Milton lunged for the window, but Cyclops shot a laser through one of his knees, causing him to fall to the ground crying.

 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Cyclops said with a wiggle of his finger. “We can’t have our first victim running off by himself, now, can we?”

 

“What?” Milton coughed.

 

“In order to destroy whatever hope the Upper Ring-ers may have left, we’re going to kill their beloved Mayor Milton right in front of them.”

 

“No!” Milton shouted. “You can’t!”

 

“We can, and we will.”

 

“No! I have somebody better! Jim Carpfish! He’s the son of Cecil Carpfish! He’ll give you anything you want!” Milton looked up at where Jim was, but he was gone.

 

“Nice try,” said Cyclops. “But the junior Carpfish is in our custody. I saw him get thrown into the cellar at the HQ before we left for here.”

 

Cyclops’ wristphone began to ring. He looked down at it in surprise then pressed a button to display the face of the caller.

 

“The prisoners have escaped! The prisoners have escaped!” cried a hologram of the guard from the insurgency headquarters.

 

“Why…does my wristphone…work?” snarled Cyclops.

 

“Oh…I don’t know,” said the guard. “I just woke up, you see.”

 

Cyclops shut off his wristphone in annoyance and turned around to see one of his soldiers flying towards him.

 

“Can you explain what just happened?”

 

The soldier started sweating. “Well, we didn’t really have a lot of time to cut the wireless signals – after all the time we spent shutting off the electricity – so we just did a temporary fix instead that cut it off for five minutes. Pretty funny, huh?”

 

Cyclops wasn’t laughing. “Why didn’t you tell me this until now?”

 

“We didn’t want you to get upset.”

 

Cyclops slapped the soldier, sending him sprawling to the ground with blood rushing from his nose.

 

“Does this look upset to you?” he bellowed.

 

“No?” the soldier squealed.

 

Cyclops kicked the soldier in the stomach. He turned around and saw the mayor’s aide helping Milton out of the window.

 

“Oh no, you don’t!” Cyclops grabbed the aide by the legs, swung him around, and threw him into the wall.

 

“His skull! You broke it!” Milton was wailing.

 

Cycops threw a mirror at Milton’s already-wounded knee. “Shut up!”

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron watched everything that happened from the bushes just outside the mayor’s office.

 

“He’s going crazy,” whispered SpongeBryan.

 

“I know,” whispered Jim.

 

SpongeBryan muffled another scream with his hand.

 

“Why is everyone sneaking up on me today?” he said.

 

“Sorry,” said Jim. “But the situation is getting more urgent. Milton hired robots from my father to tackle the insurgency, and they’ll be here any minute.”

 

“So?” said SpongeBryan.

 

“The robots were ordered to attack every mutant in the Upper Ring, not just the insurgents.”

 

Pat and Ron looked at each other.

 

“Oh,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“Yeah,” said Jim. “So we need to take down Cyclops now, so he’ll be one less thing to worry about when the robots come.”

 

Pat and Ron, not needing to be told twice, jumped out of the bushes.

 

“Hey! Cyclops, over here!” said Ron.

 

Cyclops was leaving the mayor’s office with Milton in a chokehold. He turned at the sound of Ron’s voice and growled in rage.

 

“I’m getting sick and tired of all these distractions,” Cyclops muttered.

 

Cyclops took a laser gun out of his pocket and shot at Pat and Ron, who deflected the lasers with mirrors.

 

“Our turn,” said Pat with a smile.

 

Cyclops reached for his mirror, but he remembered that it shattered over Milton’s knee.

 

“Damn it!” said Cyclops.

 

Cyclops dodged the blasts from Pat and Ron’s laser guns, and once they stopped shooting, he fired back at them. He was so intent on Pat and Ron that he didn’t notice SpongeBryan sneaking up behind him with his own laser gun raised.

 

“Bye bye, Cycs!” said SpongeBryan.

 

Cyclops turned around, but it was too late. SpongeBryan struck him on the temple with his laser gun, knocking the one-eyed leader out.

 

SpongeBryan sighed. “It’s finally over.”

 

“Not yet, it isn’t.” Jim pointed to the sky, where a fleet of robots was preparing to cast its dark shadow on the already-dark city of Alveus.

 

----

 

Wally heard the first rocket land a few blocks behind him. As he turned around to see what was going on, he was plastered with a mix of fish guts and rubble.

 

“What the hell?” gasped Wally.

 

Fifty, maybe sixty robots, all with the same FutureWorks sticker on their backside, approached the Upper Ring with rocket launchers aimed at designated mutants. The rockets flew at random intervals, sometimes hitting a mutant, sometimes hitting the house they were equipping with explosives, always ending in the same grisly death.

 

Wally watched in horror at first, but then he got a grip on himself and began to run. He ran as fast as legs could carry him, but then one of his legs got caught in a crack in the road. He used all four of his arms to pull at the leg, but it was useless. The more he tugged, the tighter it lodged into the crack. He heard a low buzzing, getting louder every second, and he turned around to see a rocket headed right for him!

 

Wally closed his eyes, bracing for the impact, when two strong hands curled around his stuck leg. He opened his eyes and looked around, and there was Sam, ripping his son’s leg out of the crack in the road and hurling Wally out of the rocket’s range.

 

Before Wally could say anything, a deafening explosion sent him back farther than Sam had thrown him. He plunged into a muddy terrain, and for the next few seconds he sat there, processing what had just happened.

 

“My d-d-dad… my d-d-dad...” Unable to say anything else, he broke into tears.

 

----

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, Ron, and Jim stared at the unconscious Cyclops.

 

“What do we do with him?” asked Pat.

 

“I don’t know,” replied SpongeBryan. “But there’s no doubt the robots will be coming for him next.”

 

“Let’s just put him in the bushes and hope for the best,” said Jim. “And if the best doesn’t come, hey, we can say we tried!”

 

Pat and Ron tossed Cyclops into the bushes and followed SpongeBryan and Jim as they went south.

 

“Now what?” asked Ron.

 

“Now we wait out the rest of the attack downtown,” said Jim.

 

“We do what?” sputtered SpongeBryan. “What about the insurgents?”

 

 “If they aren’t dead now, they would be by the time we got there,” said Jim. “We’d only be putting ourselves at risk, with little chance of saving anyone, if we tried to help them now. The design of my father’s robots is to kill as many of the enemies as possible in the shortest amount of time.”

 

“But they aren’t enemies! They’re the people I grew up with! The people I live with!”

 

“And I sympathize, but there’s nothing we can do now.”

 

“Fine!” SpongeBryan started marching north. “You three can go downtown without me!”

 

Jim reached his hand out, but Pat and Ron put it back down.

 

“Let him go,” said Pat. “Let him see what he needs to see.”

 

----

 

SpongeBryan hadn’t been walking for long when he spotted Wally in the mud.

 

“You’re alive!” cheered SpongeBryan.

 

“Yayyy,” quipped Wally.

 

“What’s wrong? Where’s your dad?”

 

“He didn’t make it.”

 

SpongeBryan was shocked. “I-I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s alright.” Wally wiped away a tear. “He died a hero. That’s more than most people can ask for.”

 

SpongeBryan sat down next to Wally. “Do you think there’s any survivors?”

 

Wally shook his head. “I hope you don’t actually plan on going up there.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The things I’ve seen are things I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t wish this experience on anybody.”

 

SpongeBryan nodded. “Come on. Let’s go downtown before the robots turn you into fried fish.”

 

As SpongeBryan and Wally went south, they passed the bushes that contained Cyclops. Not long after they passed, Cyclops woke up and crawled out of the bushes with an aching head.

 

“Once I find that two-headed bastard, I’ll give him what for, I will!” he muttered.

 

Cyclops heard a low buzzing. “What’s that sound?”

 

Just as he turned his head, he was greeted by a rocket, and it was the last thing he would ever lay eyes on.

 

----

 

During the next few days, SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron struggled to adjust to life in the Lower Ring again. Mayor Milton formally pardoned them of all of their crimes, allowing them to move back into their apartments and go on with business as usual, but as the only suriving witnesses of the revolution and its after-effects, SpongeBryan and his friends became very popular in the Lower Ring. Strangers often came up to them on the street and asked them to tell them about “that day”, and while they enjoyed their fame at first, it quickly became annoying for them.

 

They didn’t have to deal with it for long, however, because like most things, the revolution was forgotten about in the Lower Ring after a week or two.

 

In the Upper Ring, Cyclops and his insurgents were seen as group of madmen who deserved to be killed by the FutureWorks robots on that fateful day. Cecil Carpfish was seen as a hero for sending the robots, and he happily assisted in the Upper Ring’s reconstruction (for a nominal fee, of course).

 

Jim Carpfish moved back to the city he grew up in, and despite his father’s pleas, he refused to associate with Cecil or his company. Jim’s problems with alcohol was soon a thing of the past, and though he got to reunite with old friends, he still made sure to call Pat and Ron each day.

 

Wally moved into an apartment right next to SpongeBryan’s, and though he inherited some money from his father, he went on “shopping” trips with his new friends nevertheless.

 

During the trips, Wally liked to stop by a statue of Electric Man in front of the mayor’s office. Milton commissioned the statue for the soldier he once trained, its inscription reading: “To Sam, who showed us that you don’t need electric fingers to be a hero.”

 

SpongeBryan went on a shopping trip alone one night, glancing at the houses he passed, which were built to look exactly as they did before their demolishment. Now, with the houses back, and cleaner than they ever were before, it was almost like nothing had happened at all in this neighborhood. Perhaps that was the effect the reconstruction intended to convey. That nothing was different, that nothing would ever be different. That the Upper Ring would stay wealthy and that the Lower Ring would stay poor, and that no act of insurgency would ever successfully change that.

 

SpongeBryan made it to his destination. He cracked the code of the lock and entered the mansion with a small sack hanging over his shoulder. Suddenly, the lights turned on, revealing that Octhomas was sitting on the living room couch with a cup of coffee in his hand.

 

“Hi,” said Octhomas.

 

SpongeBryan waved nervously. “Hi.”

 

“I see that you’re about to rob me,” Octhomas said, pointing to the small sack that SpongeBryan was holding.

 

SpongeBryan said nothing.

 

“Well, if you ever get thirsty, there’s a cup of coffee waiting for you here.”

 

Octhomas put the cup on the table in front of him and walked upstairs.

 

“Have fun,” said Octhomas, winking down at the thief.

 

SpongeBryan smiled and started putting objects in the sack.

 

“Business as usual,” he said.

[JCM]

13. Homecoming
 

Six months had passed since the rebellion of Cyclops and the mutants. Even though the Upper Ring was fully reconstructed and those in it were returning to their normal routines, their distrust of the people in the Lower Ring hadn't faded one bit. The contempt they had for the impoverished masses before the rebellion was now mixed with fear. That fear got stronger as the months passed, and threatened to consume the Upper Ring and start an all-out class war.

 

It didn't help that Cyclops copycats from the Lower Ring popped up in the Upper Ring every few weeks, stealing from houses, spraying graffiti on walls, and causing general mayhem. Upper Ringers wanted Mayor Milton to intervene, but Milton feared that cracking down on the Lower Ring would threaten any chance the two sides had for reconciliation. He wanted Alveus to be united again, despite the rebellion and all that had gone on since then.

 

Charles Rutherford, the richest man in Alveus, walked into Milton's office one day.

 

"Hello, Mayor Milton," said Rutherford.

 

"H-hello, Charles," said Milton.

 

"You know, me and my friends have been wondering for a while just who you represent."

 

"I represent the city of Alveus."

 

"Cut the bullshit. The 'city of Alveus' didn't bankroll your run for mayor. My friends and I did."

 

"And I appreciate that, but I'm not going to squander my responsibilities just to make you and your friends happy."

 

Rutherford laughed. "Don't you get it? Your responsibilities are to make us happy. And we aren't very happy right now. You do realize that you have a re-election campaign coming up soon, right?"

 

"What about it?"

 

"Well, until we know whose side you're on, we'll have to consider scaling back our support for that campaign...considerably."

 

"Tell your friends that I'm on nobody's side and that no amounts of threats from you will change that," Milton said through clenched teeth.

 

"Very well," said Rutherford. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

 

"Is that all?"

 

"For now, yes."

 

"Then get the hell out of my office."

 

Rutherford walked out of Milton's office, and Milton used what was left of his strength to slam the door behind him.

 

"Neptune," Milton whispered. "What do I do now?"

 

---

 

SpongeBryan walked into Pat and Ron's grocery store. Pat and Ron sat on the counter, eating candy bars and watching cartoons on a holographic television screen.

 

"How's business?" asked SpongeBryan.

 

"Terrible as usual," said Ron.

 

"Yeah, we haven't had a customer in weeks," said Pat.

 

"I told you that this grocery store was a bad investment," said SpongeBryan.

 

"What are you talking about?" said Ron. "We have a ton of free food and a holoscreen! This was a great investment."

 

"But what'll happen when the free food runs out?" asked SpongeBryan.

 

Ron shrugged. "We'll just replace it with the money we get from our shopping trips, like we've been doing for the past six months."

 

"Speaking of that," said SpongeBryan, holding up a folded piece of paper. "I've just finished planning out tonight's trip."

 

SpongeBryan unfolded the paper on the counter next to Pat and Ron. It was a blueprint of the Upper Ring.

 

SpongeBryan continued, "I'm thinking we can stop by Rutherford's mansion again. I heard he got a new security system installed, and I'd love to try it out."

 

"Why do those people even keep trying?" Pat shook his head and chuckled,

 

"There's no key you can't crack," said Ron.

 

Wally rushed into the grocery store with SpongeBryan's laptop.

 

"Am I late?" Wally asked.

 

"No, you're just on time," said SpongeBryan.

 

Wally pointed to the blueprint. "Pen and paper? Isn't that a little old-fashioned?"

 

"Yeah, but it gets the job done," replied SpongeBryan. "Anyway, when you're running a criminal enterprise, you shouldn't have everything in one place."

 

"A criminal enterprise?" Wally laughed. "Is that what we are now?"

 

"That's what we've always been," said SpongeBryan, opening up his laptop.

 

SpongeBryan typed Charles Rutherford's name into the universal search bar on his home screen, and links, images, and news articles popped up in succession.

 

"Perfect. He has a meeting tonight with Cecil Carpfish in Pacific City, so his home will be unoccupied," said SpongeBryan.

 

"Speaking of the Carpfish clan," said Pat. "Jim called us this morning to tell us that he's coming later today."

 

"He did? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" queried SpongeBryan.

 

"I don't know," said Ron. "Talking to him hasn't been the same lately. He keeps asking us to come to Pacific City with him, tells us that this life isn't suited for us."

 

"You should take him up on his offer," muttered SpongeBryan.

 

"What was that?" said Pat.

 

"I said that you should take Jim up on his offer, okay?" said SpongeBryan, louder. "How many opportunities do you get to leave the Lower Ring? How many opportunities do any of us get to leave the Lower Ring?"

 

"We like it here," said Ron. "I thought you did, too."

 

"I do," said SpongeBryan. "But you can't help thinking that there's more to life than this, stealing to sustain ourselves, always wondering where our next meal will come from."

 

"I know where my next meal will come from," said Pat. "Aisle 3."

 

"We won't be somebody's charity case," said Ron. "Our mother raised us to be independent, and if it means having a lower standard of living than we'd have in Pacific City, so be it."

 

"Should I come back later?" said Jim, standing in the doorway.

 

"Jim!" cried Ron.

 

"How did you find us?" wondered Pat.

 

"Your wrist-phones have GPS technology. It wasn't hard," said Jim. "Anyway, my offer still stands."

 

"And the answer is the same: no," said Ron.

 

"I just don't understand why you choose to live down here," said Jim, using the grocery store's doormat to wipe pieces of rotten fruit off the sole of his shoe.

 

"Hey! I chose to live down here," snapped Wally.

 

"Yeah, and for good reason," said Pat. "Our friends are down here. Our lives are down here."

 

"You can make lives in Pacific City," said Jim. "Better lives."

 

"What if we don't want better lives?" suggested Ron.

 

Jim sighed. "Okay. I'm not here to argue with you. I'm just here to catch up. How are things going?"

 

"They're going fine," said Pat. "In fact, we were planning our next shopping trip."

 

"Really?" said Jim. "What mall are you going to?"

 

SpongeBryan cleared his throat.

 

"Oh," whispered Jim. "That kind of shopping trip."

 

"Well, we don't all have rich daddies," said Pat. "Some of us have to make a living."

 

"Hey! Just so you know, my father cut me off six months ago when I refused to join the family business. All the money I have now was earned from my job as a waiter," said Jim.

 

"So you know what it's like to get your hands dirty," said Ron.

 

"My hands aren't nearly as dirty as yours," said Jim. "Stealing? I thought you gave that up after we came back from Insulam."

 

"In exchange for what?" said Pat. "In case you weren't aware, the job market in the Lower Ring isn't exactly thriving."

 

"That's why I want you to come out of the Lower Ring. There are opportunities in Pacific City you won't find here," said Jim.

 

"For the last time, no!" screamed Ron.

 

"Ron, calm down," said SpongeBryan.

 

"Yeah," agreed Wally.

 

"No!" said Ron. "He insulted our way of life! He talked to us like we were inferior! I want you out of here, Jim! If you love Pacific City so much, you can go there in your fancy boat and never talk to us again!"

 

Jim gasped, and then he looked at Pat, who nodded.

 

"Fine," said Jim. "You try to help out some old friends, and this is how you get treated. Don't blame me when you end up getting shot down here, or worse."

 

Jim stormed out of the grocery store, and SpongeBryan cleared his throat again.

 

"So, Rutherford's?" SpongeBryan mumbled.

 

"Yeah," said Wally.

 

"Yeah," said Pat and Ron.

 

---

 

That night, Charles Rutherford walked into a Pacific City restaurant. Cecil Carpfish was beside the door waiting for him.

 

"What did you want to talk about, Charles?" asked Cecil.

 

"Let's sit down first," said Rutherford. "Waiter!"

 

The waiter, standing a couple of yards away, glanced in Rutherford's direction but quickly turned his head.

 

"How rude!" shouted Rutherford.

 

Rutherford sprinted to the waiter, grabbed his shoulder, and turned him around to realize that he was Jim.

 

"Oh, my," whispered Rutherford.

 

"Jim?" said Cecil.

 

"I-I was just going to ask about our reservation," said Rutherford.

 

"You and Mr. Carpfish will be sitting at table 12," said Jim.

 

"Thank you," said Rutherford.

 

Cecil stared at Jim for a second, then he followed Rutherford to their table.

 

"So, how are things going down in Alveus?" Cecil asked as soon as they were seated.

 

"Not too good," said Rutherford. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

 

"Are the problems reconstruction-related?"

 

"No, the reconstruction went great. The problem, you see, is with our mayor."

 

"Well, I don't think I can fix that."

 

Rutherford smiled. "I think you can."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Cecil, have you ever thought about running for office?"

 

"I've thought about it, but with the company and all the duties that come with it, I've never had the time."

 

"What if you did have the time?"

 

"That's a big 'what if', Charles."

 

"I don't think our mayor will survive past his current term, and I think you'd be an excellent candidate for replacing him."

 

"Why me?"

 

"You're a household name. Your successful reconstruction of the Upper Ring will easily get your its votes, while your rags-to-riches story will make you a shoo-in for winning the Lower Ring as well."

 

"I could win in any city in the ocean. Why should I choose yours?"

 

"Because I asked first."

 

Cecil scratched his chin. "I have been considering retiring from FutureWorks, and politics would be a nice way to keep myself busy while staying in the public eye."

 

"Is that a yes?"

 

"I'll get back to you."

 

Jim walked up to Cecil's and Rutherford's table.

 

"May I take your order?" murmured Jim.

 

"You know, you're always welcome if you decide to come back," said Cecil.

 

"Thanks, but no thanks," said Jim. "Now I'll ask again: May I take your order?"

 

---

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, Ron, and Wally flew to the Rutherford mansion in their rocket boots. SpongeBryan opened up his laptop and tried to hack into the mansion's security, but he was unable to. Pat, Ron, and Wally were pointing laser guns at the door.

 

"We're ready when you are," said Pat.

 

"Just wait a minute," said SpongeBryan.

 

SpongeBryan tried to override the security again, but he couldn't.

 

"This has never happened before," said SpongeBryan.

 

"What's going on?" asked Wally.

 

"It's not letting me in!" revealed SpongeBryan.

 

"What?" said Ron. "What do you mean it's not letting you in?"

 

"I mean it's not working! I can't disable the security system!" said SpongeBryan.

 

"Should we try to break in anyway?" asked Wally.

 

"Yeah, if you want the entire Upper Ring to know what we're doing," quipped Pat.

 

SpongeBryan sighed. "Okay. Mission aborted."

 

SpongeBryan typed in a line of code to grab information about Rutherford's security system and put it in a separate file.

 

"I'll analyze this later, and see if we can do this again," he said.

 

"SpongeBryan, will you be okay?" asked Ron.

 

SpongeBryan ignited his rocket books and flew off without saying anything.

 

"I'm worried about SpongeBryan," said Wally.

 

"So am I," said Pat. "There's never been a security measure he couldn't bypass."

 

After SpongeBryan got back to his apartment, he sat on his bed and opened his laptop. When he opened the file containing the security details, he saw a giant name at the top.

 

"'HARP00NER'?"

 

SpongeBryan got a notepad out from under his pillow and wrote Harp00ner's name in it. He fingers tightened around the notepad as he looked at the name he had just written, and in a fit of rage, he threw it across the room.

[JCM]

14. Dark Side

 

Jim woke up in the mid-afternoon with a hangover.

 

“Oh, no,” whispered Jim.

 

He had been able to control his alcohol addiction since he returned from Insulam, but his fight with Pat and Ron must have pushed him over the edge. He always passed by a bar on the way home from work, and the temptation was probably too much to resist this time. He looked at the time on his wrist-phone. 3 PM. One more hour before he had to serve up fast food and fake smiles to wealthy diners all over again.

 

Jim lived in a cheap apartment in the outskirts of town, which was all he could afford after his dad cut him off. He didn’t care, though. He didn’t want his father’s blood money. He just wanted to live a normal life and not one where every single opportunity afforded to him came to him because of who his father was. He even changed his last name to Gillson shortly before getting the job at the restaurant. The fewer ties he had to his family, the better.

 

He heard the doorbell ring, and he opened the door to find a green fish with long yellow hair standing there with an awkward smile. It was his sister, a year his junior, Sarah.

 

“Hello, Jim,” Sarah said.

 

Jim and Sarah hadn’t talked to each other since Jim left Pacific City to go to Insulam. Jim’s stomach felt uneasy, so he bent over a trashcan to vomit.

 

“Oh Neptune, have you been drinking?” she asked.

 

“What if I have?” he responded, wiping his mouth.

 

“Don’t do this to yourself. You know you’re better than this.”

 

“What gives you the right to come here and lecture me?”

 

“I’m your sister.”

 

“Oh, now you’re my sister? You certainly had no problem acting like I didn’t exist for the last six months!”

 

Sarah lowered her head. “I know that, and I’m sorry. But the company needs you. I need you. But not like this.”

 

“What you see is what you get. And in case you didn’t get the memo, I’m done with the company.”

 

“I don’t believe that.”

 

Jim, who was still bent over the trashcan, straightened up and faced his sister.

 

“I’m done with the company,” he repeated. “It’s run by sociopaths, and I want no part of it.”

 

“Then you can change it!”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Our dad confided in me that he would announce his retirement tonight. He wanted me to take up the mantle, but I told him that you’d be a better choice.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you care about people. I’ve never forgotten that about you, even though the way I’ve been treating you may have made you think otherwise. In a way, I was jealous because I knew I could never be as good as you are.”

 

Jim thought for a second, then he sighed. “It’s weird how the people who are supposed to be my friends are treating me as an enemy and the people who are supposed to be my enemies are treating me as a friend.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means I’ll do it. I’ve been running from who I am for too long. It’s about time that I embrace it.”

 

Sarah hugged Jim. “Thank you so much for reconsidering! It’s so good to have the old gang back together again!”

 

Jim smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

 

---

 

Pat and Ron walked into SpongeBryan’s apartment. SpongeBryan was sitting on the bed, his red eyes glued to his laptop.

 

“Did you get any sleep last night?” asked Pat.

 

“No,” said SpongeBryan. “And I won’t until I find out who Harp00ner is.”

 

“It’s just one house. We can shop at another one later,” said Ron.

 

“No, we can’t,” said SpongeBryan.

 

SpongeBryan turned his laptop around to show Pat and Ron a news article on it.

 

“Word of Harp00ner’s success is already spreading,” he continued. “Most of the houses in the Upper Ring, as well as houses in neighboring places like Pacific City, are in the process of replacing their current security systems with his.”

 

“So? Once you figure this Harp00ner guy out, that’ll just make it easier to rob these places,” said Ron.

 

“But you can’t do that until you get some sleep,” said Pat. “Give your mind a break. We have plenty of time to find Harp00ner’s identity.”

 

SpongeBryan yawned. “But I’m so close. I know I’ve seen his name before. I just…”

 

Suddenly, everything went black. The next thing SpongeBryan knew, he was running down a hallway in his elementary school.

 

“I can’t be late for history again!” SpongeBryan said in a noticeably higher voice.

 

SpongeBryan ran past giant legs and faces long forgotten before he bumped into a fish not much taller than he was. Once he regained his coordination, SpongeBryan looked down to see their books scattered across the floor.

 

“I’m sorry,” SpongeBryan said, picking up the books. “I didn’t look where I was going.”

 

“That’s okay,” said the boy.

 

As SpongeBryan separated his books from the boy’s, he noticed a picture of a fish holding a spear, with the word “HARP00NER” scribbled under it, taped to the cover of one of the boy’s binders.

 

“Who is this?” SpongeBryan asked.

 

“Just a superhero I doodled,” the boy replied. He was holding three of his books with three arms, and he took his binder from SpongeBryan with the fourth.

 

SpongeBryan immediately recognized who the boy was, but before he could say anything, he woke up in his bed, back to his original age.

 

“Harp00ner is Wally,” he whispered.

 

SpongeBryan ran outside, and he saw that it was darker than usual. Wally’s apartment was right next to his, and before he knew it, he was knocking on Wally’s door with a ferocity that surprised even him.

 

“Wally!” he shouted. “Wally, I know you’re in there!”

 

SpongeBryan turned the doorknob, and he found that the apartment was unlocked. When he walked in, he saw Wally sitting in front of a holographic television mounted to the wall.

 

“Wally, there’s something I need to ask you,” SpongeBryan started.

 

“I never chose to live down here,” said Wally.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Wally turned around. “I never chose to live in the Lower Ring. My mother sent me here because I had become a burden for her. The only reason she hadn’t kicked me out sooner was because I had my father to defend me.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because it’s the truth. I’ve lied to you and myself for too long.”

 

SpongeBryan’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not the only thing you’ve lied to me about, Harp00ner.”

 

Wally gasped. “How do you know about that?”

 

“We went to the same elementary school. I had a dream, or a memory, of seeing that name on your binder.”

 

“Yes. That shitty elementary school in the Lower Ring. Ever wonder why I went to that school? Why me, the son of the famous Electric Man, went to the same school as street trash like you?”

 

SpongeBryan was taken aback. He never heard Wally speak that way to him before.

 

Wally answered himself. “It’s because my kind aren’t allowed in the Upper Ring schools. My kind aren’t allowed in the Upper Ring hospitals, which is why I was never able to get these extra arms removed. My kind aren’t allowed to get jobs, run for office, do any of the things normal Upper Ringers have the privilege of doing. That systemic racism was what drove me to join Cyclops’ gang, but now I know that that was a terrible idea. Now I know that we were doomed to fail from the start.”

 

Wally clasped together his orange fins and stared at them for a while.

 

“You know,” Wally said. “My parents actually found a doctor willing to remove these things, back when I was a baby. He said there was a 50/50 chance of me surviving the surgery and going on to live a healthy life, and a 50/50 chance of me bleeding to death. My parents ultimately chose not to go through with it. I wish they did.”

 

“I’m not here to listen to your life story,” said SpongeBryan. “I’m here to know what this Harp00ner crap is about.”

 

“Harp00ner is who I want to be!” cried Wally. “He’s everything my condition has kept me from being so far. And after my father died, he was all I had to cling to.”

 

“You had us.”

 

“It was your fault he died in the first place! Why did you have to go and mess with the natural order of things? If only I had known it before. Folks like us, we belong in the Lower Ring. We may not have chosen it, but it chose us. And we need to respect that choice. The fact that you not only go up to Upper Ring, but that you steal from it regularly; why, it’s almost blasphemous!”

 

SpongeBryan began to back away. “Wally, you’re starting to sound a little touched in the head.”

 

“For six months, for six long months, I studied your methods, your code, so that I could use them against you. I have to say, it wasn’t an easy endeavor, as you really know your stuff, but it was all worth it to know that once I ridded the Upper Ring of your influence and brought harmony back to the ocean, the gods would forgive me of my transgressions and allow me to live in the afterlife as my idol, Harp00ner.”

 

“So, this was a long game? Did you even care about how we’d feel when this all came out?”

 

“Why would I care about scum like you?”

 

SpongeBryan, unable to control his anger, pounced on Wally. Wally pulled out a knife and stabbed SpongeBryan in the leg.

 

“Ow!” hissed SpongeBryan.

 

SpongeBryan rolled off Wally and tried to control his bleeding with his hands.

 

“I think we’re done here,” said Wally.

 

Wally turned back to the television screen just in time to watch a purple fish walk up to a podium in front of the FutureWorks headquarters.

 

“Cecil T. Carpfish is getting ready to make his highly-anticipated speech,” explained an announcer, whose hologram appeared right next to the screen.

 

SpongeBryan limped to his apartment, found a piece of cloth on the ground, and wrapped it around his injured leg. As he felt the pain pulsate from his leg throughout his entire body, he realized the full ramifications of what had just occurred. No more shopping trips. No more adventures with Pat and Ron.

 

SpongeBryan noticed his laser gun in the corner of the room.

 

No more Wally.

 

---

 

“…and for that reason, I would like to announce my retirement as CEO of FutureWorks,” said Cecil at the podium.

 

There were audible boos from the audience. Cecil raised his hand to calm the crowd.

 

“But that’s not all,” he said. “I would also like to announce my run for mayor of the city of Alveus.”

 

The audience cheered.

 

“Man, I’d hate to be the guy he’s running against!” said the holographic announcer next to the television screen.

 

As Mayor Milton watched this from his office, he felt his gills being crushed by an invisible force. He turned the holographic television off and grabbed his desk to keep his balance.

 

“This can’t be happening,” he managed to choke out.

 

He was dizzy. He couldn’t tell up from down, left from right. Then, he remembered something, and everything went back to normal. He searched through the contacts on his wristphone using a shaky, plump fin. When he found whom he wanted to call, he dialed a number. One ring, two rings, three rings. A gruffy voice answered, with no accompanying hologram.

 

“What do you want?” the voice asked.

 

“Hello to you, too,” said Milton.

 

“Something tells me you didn’t call me to make small talk.”

 

“Well, then, you’d be right. I need a favor.”

 

“Well, what is it?”

 

“I assume you heard Cecil Carpfish’s recent announcement.”

 

“You assumed wrong. I have bigger things on my mind right now than listening to some old guy talk. No offense, old guy.”

 

“None taken. If you didn’t hear him, here’s the gist of what he said: he’s leaving FutureWorks and coming to Alveus to challenge me in my next mayoral campaign.”

 

“So you have a little competition. It’s about time you had something to exercise those old brain muscles of yours for.”

 

“This is more than competition. I’m certain Charles Rutherford tapped him to replace me.”

 

“Rutherford? The fish with the comb-over?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What did you do to piss him off?”

 

Milton was quiet for a moment.

 

“The right thing. I did the right thing.” Milton shook his head. “But no matter. I’m not calling you about Rutherford. I’m calling you about Carpfish. You need to take care of him.”

 

“Take care of him? Is that what you think I am? A hitman?”

 

“Don’t forget that you owe me!”

 

The voice sighed. “This won’t be easy. Carpfish probably has the best security available.”

 

“Yeah, he recently switched to that Harp00ner system.”

 

“Wait, did you just say Harp00ner?”

 

“Yeah. Why?”

 

This time, the voice was quiet for a moment.

 

“No reason,” said the voice. “I’ll carry out your hit, but after that, we’re even. You got it?”

 

“Yes. Got it.”

 

“Good. Don’t contact me again until I’m finished.”

 

The voice hung up on Milton. Milton looked out of the window. The sky was at its blackest. As he prepared to leave the office, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He pushed that thought out of his mind. This was politics. Simple as that.

[JCM]

30 minutes late. Good enough

 

14. Honor Among Thieves

 

SpongeBryan stood in front of Wally’s door, heart thumping in his chest. He felt the laser gun in his pocket and thought about what he was about to do. He was angry, irrational. He was about to kill somebody for making it hard for him to steal from rich people. But it was more than that. It was about the betrayal. This was the second time in a year that he was betrayed; again by someone he considered one of his closest friends. He was too trusting. He was too nice. Well, that was about to change.

 

SpongeBryan kicked down the door with his good leg. Because of how old the apartment was, the door hinges broke easily. He saw that Wally wasn’t in the living room, so he pulled out his laser gun and checked the kitchen and bathroom. He couldn’t find Wally in either. He was about to leave the apartment when Pat and Ron entered it.

 

“SpongeBryan? You’re up already?” asked Pat.

 

“You fell asleep at your apartment four hours ago,” explained Ron.

 

 “Well, I have more important things to do than sleep now,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“What are you talking about?” wondered Ron.

 

“What’s that laser gun for?” asked Pat.

 

“Neptune, what happened to your leg?” shrieked Ron.

 

“The less you know, the better,” groaned SpongeBryan, limping to a couch. “Have you guys seen Wally, by any chance?”

 

“No,” said Pat. “That’s why we were here.”

 

SpongeBryan sat down on the couch and sighed.

 

“SpongeBryan, you know you can tell us anything,” said Ron.

 

Pat and Ron’s slender pink heads turned into a pair of Wally-like heads for a moment. Startled, SpongeBryan rubbed his eyes, and their heads returned to normal.

 

“Do I?” said SpongeBryan.

 

Pat and Ron looked at each other, confused.

 

“SpongeBryan, are you okay?” Pat asked.

 

“No, I’m not okay!” said SpongeBryan.

 

SpongeBryan pocketed the laser gun and put his head in his hands.

 

“I’ll never be okay,” he whispered.

 

“Tell us what’s going on,” said Pat. “We’re your friends. We can help you.”

 

“I don’t even know what ‘friend’ means anymore,” said SpongeBryan.

 

SpongeBryan told Pat and Ron everything that Wally told him. When he was finished, Pat and Ron had shocked expressions on their faces.

 

“I can’t believe it,” said Ron. “When I get ahold of that bastard, I’ll… I’ll…”

 

“You won’t do anything,” interrupted Pat. He turned to SpongeBryan. “And you shouldn’t, either.”

 

“What?” sputtered SpongeBryan. “How can you defend him?”

 

“I’m not defending him, but I’m not saying we should go all Big Tony on him, either,” said Pat.

 

SpongeBryan felt like the laser gun was burning a hole through his pocket.

 

“We’re not murderers,” continued Pat.

 

“Don’t you dare tell me what I am,” snapped SpongeBryan.

 

“No, he’s right,” said Ron. “Whacking Wally would be going too far.”

 

“Coming from a drunk and a liar, that doesn’t mean a lot!” SpongeBryan shouted.

Ron gasped.

 

SpongeBryan stood up. “I’m going after Wally. If you want to come with me, that’s fine. If you don’t, stay out of my way.”

 

SpongeBryan ran out of the apartment, and Pat and Ron followed him.

 

---

 

Jim had been waiting tables for three hours when his father walked into the restaurant and took his seat.

 

“Oh, perfect,” muttered Jim.

 

Cecil waved to Jim and motioned for Jim to come to his table. Jim hated his father seeing him the way he was, but he clenched his teeth as he walked to Cecil’s table.

 

“I heard that my daughter stopped by your apartment,” Cecil said.

 

“Yeah, what if she did?” responded Jim, trying his best to avoid making eye contact.

 

“I just think it’s great that you’re carrying on the family legacy.”

 

“I’m not doing it for you, if that’s what you think.”

 

Cecil sighed. “It’s not what I think. I know our relationship hasn’t been the best lately.”

 

The manager of the restaurant, a very large fish with part of a tattoo showing on the back of his hand, approached Jim and Cecil at the table.

 

“Is everything all right here?” said the manager.

 

“Everything’s fine,” said Cecil. “I’m just having a chat with my son, if that’s all right with you.”

 

“Of course it is. By the way, I heard about your retirement. Good luck on your campaign.”

 

“Thanks. I’ll be traveling to Alveus tomorrow.”

 

“Alveus? What are you doing in Alveus?” asked Jim.

 

“Didn’t you know? I’m running for mayor.”

 

Of all the places, thought Jim.

 

“I’ll leave you two to finish your discussion,” said the manager.

 

“Thank you,” said Cecil.

 

The manager walked back to a supply room. He did a double take then hurried into the room, making sure that the door was closed behind him.

 

"How the hell did we end up like this?" Cecil wondered. "We used to be so close."

 

"That was before I figured out that I was nothing more than a trophy for you and mom to parade around," growled Jim.

 

"I didn't know you felt that way."

 

"There's a lot you don't know about me. Because you never bothered to try and get to know me."

 

Cecil was quiet for a second. "Well, that ends right now. Tell me everything."

 

"What?"

 

"Everything you've ever wanted to tell me! As of right now, we're starting over. You talk, I listen."

 

Jim shook his head. "I have work."

 

"I'm sure that I can talk the manager into letting you out early."

 

"No! This is exactly what I hate about you. You take control of my life thinking that your money and your influence will solve all my problems. It won't. I'll talk to the manager."

 

"Okay, okay. I'm just happy that you're willing to try this whole father-son thing out again."

 

Cecil smiled. Jim smiled a little as well.

 

"Alright," said Jim. "If you're not going to order anything, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. If my boss says it's okay, I'll catch up with you."

 

Cecil nodded then left the restaurant. Jim walked to the door of the supply closet, knocked, and waited for the manager to come out.

 

"What do you want?" the manager asked.

 

"My dad's leaving, and he wants me to go with him. Do you think you can find a replacement for my shift while I'm gone?"

 

"No, no, no," said the manager. "Ours waiters are swamped enough as is. I'm afraid you aren't going anywhere."

 

Jim sighed. "Fine. I guess I need to call my dad to tell him I'll be running late."

 

As Jim dialed his father's number on his wristphone, the manager disappeared into the supply closet.

 

---

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron floated above Alveus with their rocket boots.

 

“I can’t see him anywhere down there,” said Pat.

 

“Can we go home?” asked Ron.

 

“Wait,” said SpongeBryan. “I see him. He’s flying in from Pacific City.”

 

“What was he doing in Pacific City?” Pat wondered.

 

“I guess we’re about to find out,” said SpongeBryan.

 

The three of them flew down and surrounded Wally from above.

 

“What the…” started Wally.

 

Ron punched Wally in the face, causing Wally to lose control of his rocket boots and fly into a coral tree.

 

“Ron!” scolded Pat.

 

“What? I couldn’t help it,” said Ron. “Hey, wait a minute. When could I control our arms?”

 

“I guess this means I can control our legs now,” said Pat.

 

Ron kicked himself in the backside.

 

“Hey! Stop that!” Ron whined.

 

“Time to finish this,” said SpongeBryan.

 

SpongeBryan took out his laser gun, and Pat kicked him, causing SpongeBryan to drop the laser gun.

 

“What was that for?” shouted SpongeBryan.

 

“I’m stopping you from making the biggest mistake you’ll ever make!" said Pat.

 

“Oh, someone here’s made the biggest mistake he’ll ever make, but it isn’t SpongeBryan,” came a voice from below.

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron looked down to see Wally holding SpongeBryan’s laser gun. He had a maniacal smirk on his face, which was bloodied up from the impact of the coral tree.

 

“Wally, don’t do anything drastic,” pleaded Pat.

 

“Why shouldn’t I? You were obviously here to kill me! All this would be is self-defense!” said Wally, waving the laser gun around.

 

“Great job, Pat!” said SpongeBryan. “You’ve killed us all!”

 

“Nobody has to kill anyone,” said Ron.

 

“No,” said Wally. “Somebody’s going to be dead by the end of the night, and it won’t be me.”

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron flew off in different directions, avoiding the lasers that Wally shot at them. Wally climbed up the coral tree to get a better vantage point, but by the time he made it to the top, SpongeBryan and his friends were long gone.

 

“We’ll meet again,” he said. “I know we will.”

 

---

 

As Cecil walked to his boat, his felt his wristphone vibrate. He pressed a button on it, and Jim’s hologtaphic face showed up.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Jim. “But the boss won’t let me off tonight.”

 

“I knew I should have talked to him,” grunted Cecil.

Jim shook his head. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. We’ll try this thing again when you return from Alveus.”

 

“It’ll be like I was never gone. I promise.”

 

“Based on your track record for promises…I just hope you’re right.”

 

Jim hung up. Cecil sighed. Losing his son was the thing he regretted the most after a lifetime of building up FutureWorks. He had always been a businessman before a father, and he didn’t notice the toll it had on Jim before it was too late. After Jim ran away from home, the rest of his family went frantic looking for him, but Cecil simply stayed in his office, running his company, not letting the events of his personal life get to him. He hoped retiring would change all that. He and his son would still be apart, but Cecil would have more time to visit him and his daughter, go out with his wife, and spoil his future grandchildren. That, along with being mayor of Alveus, would ensure that he would never be bored post-FutureWorks. Better yet, he would be happy. Happy. That was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a while. Sure, he put on a glowing façade when in front of the cameras, but that only masked the lonely man inside. For a while, he was unsure of whether or not he would ever be happy again, but now that he had hope for his family, for his business, for his life, he knew that happiness wasn’t far off. He got in his boat, pushed the coordinates of his house into his trackpad, and watched the world around him become a blur.

 

When he got to his mansion, Cecil jumped out of the boat and walked to his door. He carefully put his fin on a small screen next to the door.

 

“Fin pattern analysis complete. Welcome, Cecil,” said a robotic voice through speakers above the door.

 

The door opened, and Cecil walked in. His wife wasn’t home yet, so she must have been passed out drunk at a bar somewhere. Their relationship was one of the many that Cecil’s cold indifference weakened. Cecil gave his hat to an android standing in the corner and trudged up the stairs. When he got into his room, he couldn’t wait go to sleep after what was one of the longest days he had. He plopped onto the bed, and he closed his eyes. Suddenly, a shiver went down his spine, and he opened his eyes again to find Sam standing in front of him.

 

“E-electric man!” Cecil screamed.

 

“That’s what they call me,” stated Sam.

 

“Youre supposed to be dead!”

”You’re right. I am. And you want to know what the last thing I saw before I died was?”

 

“What?”

 

“The FutureWorks logo.”

 

Sam held out his hand, and he shot an electric ball straight into Cecil’s chest. He watched as Cecil convulsed, crying out in pain, swearing. Cecil rolled off the bed and began to hyperventilate until he stopped breathing entirely. Sam walked over to Cecil and felt his pulse to make sure that he was dead. Once he was sure, he tapped his wristphone.

 

“It’s done,” he said.

 

Sam took off his wristphone, crushed it in his hands, and threw it out the window. He walked downstairs and out of the mansion, never looking back once.

[JCM]

Resurrection Man

 

6 months earlier…

 

Wally heard the first rocket land a few blocks behind him. As he turned around to see what was going on, he was plastered with a mix of fish guts and rubble.

 

“What the hell?” gasped Wally.

 

Fifty, maybe sixty robots, all with the same FutureWorks sticker on their backside, approached the Upper Ring with rocket launchers aimed at designated mutants. The rockets flew at random intervals, sometimes hitting a mutant, sometimes hitting the house they were equipping with explosives, always ending in the same grisly death.

 

Wally watched in horror at first, but then he got a grip on himself and began to run. He ran as fast as legs could carry him, but then one of his legs got caught in a crack in the road. He used all four of his arms to pull at the leg, but it was useless. The more he tugged, the tighter it lodged into the crack. He heard a low buzzing, getting louder every second, and he turned around to see a rocket headed right for him.

 

Wally closed his eyes, bracing for the impact, when two strong hands curled around his stuck leg. He opened his eyes and looked around, and there was Sam, ripping his son’s leg out of the crack in the road and hurling Wally out of the rocket’s range.

 

Before Wally could say anything, a deafening explosion sent him back farther than Sam had thrown him. He plunged into a muddy terrain, and for the next few seconds he sat there, processing what had just happened.

 

“My d-d-dad… my d-d-dad...” Unable to say anything else, he broke into tears.

 

---

 

Hours had passed since the last robot left the scene. Mayor Milton, who had crawled away during Cyclops’ fight with SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron, was now sifting through the rubble of the Upper Ring in search of an object. Milton had his shirt pulled up over his nose to cover up the stench of dead bodies everywhere, and part of the shirt was wrapped around his knee to stop some of the bleeding.

 

“Where is it?” Milton muttered. “It has to be in here somewhere.”

 

Suddenly, he noticed something shiny sticking out of the rubble just ahead of him.

 

“Yes!” he exclaimed.

 

Milton reached for the object and pulled it out. It was a long, thin piece of metal. Milton took another piece of metal out of one of his pockets and combined it with the piece he just found.

 

“Perfect,” he whispered.

 

Milton pulled the pieces apart again and put one piece in each pocket. He limped to his office to find Octhomas and many more Upper Ringers standing around it.

 

“There you are!” said Octhomas.

 

“May I…help you?” wondered Milton.

 

“Yeah, maybe you can tell us why you destroyed our damn houses!”

 

The Upper Ringers started shouting at the same time. Milton raised his hand to quiet them.

 

“I was doing you a favor. Those mutants were going to kill you., so I took some drastic measures,” said Milton.

 

“But destroying our neighborhood?” replied Octhomas. “Did it really have to be that drastic?”

 

“Property can be restored. Your lives, though, cannot,” said Milton, feeling the metal pieces in his pockets. “At least, not yet.”

 

“Where will we stay until our homes get rebuilt, though?” asked Octhomas.

 

“I’m sure I can arrange something with my friend Cecil Carpfish. Perhaps he can set you all up in a hotel.”

 

“A hotel?” cried a lady in the crowd. “How demeaning!”

 

“It’s the best I can do,” said the mayor.

 

“Meanwhile, you get to cozy it up in this office of yours,” said Octhomas.

 

Milton laughed. “Rest assured, I’ll be far from cozy. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a leg injury, and it’s an injury I really should be attending to.”

 

Everyone stared at Milton, so he continued talking.

 

“I’ll give Cecil a call, so none of you will have to worry about where you’ll be sleeping for much longer,” Milton said. “Right now, I must ask you all to leave, however”

 

The Upper Ringers left with suspicious looks on their faces, Milton looked through the doorway of his office, which was still charred from Cyclops’ attack. His knee was hurting more than ever. He saw shards of broken glass and his aide’s lifeless body on the floor, with a pool of blood around him. He figured he’d get a cleaning crew in the morning and a shovel so he could give his aide a proper burial. As he walked through the charred doorway, he thought about the damage done to his office, done to his life. It made him nauseous. He was still mayor, though, and he had work to do. He turned on his wristphone and dialed a number. A hologram of Cecil Carpfish appeared.

 

“Hello, Mr. Milton. Did our service meet your expectations?” asked Cecil.

 

“Yeah, it met them a little too well,” responded Milton. “Now my constituents are homeless because of your robots.”

 

“My apologies. I didn’t know how serious things were over there. I’ll send a couple of boats to take your friends to Carpfish Towers here in Pacific City, free of charge!”

 

“You’d really do that?”

 

“Yes, and I’ll even take care of reconstruction, though I’ll have to charge you for that.”

 

“Of course! Thank you, Cecil. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

 

“Think nothing of it. We’ll do anything to satisfy our customers. Is there anything else you need?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Please call again.”

 

Cecil disconnected. Milton took a deep breath, and then he dialed another number. This time, a hologram of a three-eyed frog appeared.

 

“James? What do you want?” asked the frog.

 

Milton took the pieces of metal out of his pocket.

 

“Recognize these?” asked Milton.

 

“I think so,” said the frog. “Wait a minute! That’s my spine! Why do you have it?”

 

“It was in a bit of an accident,” said Milton. “So was its host.”

 

“Are you saying Sam is…” the frog began, but was unable to finish.

 

“Yes, and I’m sad to say it’s my fault. But we can fix this.”

 

“Oh, no. That was just for wartime.”

 

“And we didn’t need it for wartime, thankfully.”

 

“You know how I feel about this, James.”

 

“I do know, Ed, but I also know Sam was just as much a friend of yours as he was mine.”

 

Ed was silent for a while.

 

“Okay,” he finally said, “Bring that crap over here and I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“Actually, Ed, can you pick me up? I have a bum knee. Long story.”

 

“Long story. I’m sure it is.”

 

Ed disconnected. A few minutes later, he flew through the doorway of the office wearing rocket boots.

 

“Hop on,” he said,

 

Milton jumped onto Ed’s back and held onto his rubbery skin as they headed towards the laboratory. Once they reached their destination, Milton let go of Ed as he powered off his rocket boots.

 

“Do you have them?” asked Ed.

 

Milton took the metal pieces of his pockets and gave them to Ed. Ed opened the doors to his laboratory, and the light coming from the inside was so overwhelming, Milton had to cover his eyes.

 

“Lovely place you’ve got there,” said Milton.

 

‘Thank you,” said Ed.

 

Ed and Milton walked into the laboratory, and Ed grabbed a lab coat from a hanger on the wall.

 

“Make yourself comfortable, James. We’ll probably be here for a while,” he said.

 

Milton watched as Ed put the metal fragments on a table and started working on them with tools. He looked at his wristphone. Half past midnight. He slumped down to the ground and started drifting off to sleep. Suddenly, he was back in the wreckage of the Upper Ring, dead bodies and debris everywhere.

”It was you,” said a familiar voice behind him.

 

Milton turned around and saw the pale, ghoulish face of Sam looking right at him.

 

“It was you!” echoed Sam.

 

“What are you talking about?” asked Milton.

 

“It was you who killed me.”

 

Milton didn’t know how to reply. He backed away, hearing bones crunch beneath him as he stepped on rotting carcasses.

 

“It was you who killed me!” Sam held out his palm. “And it is you who will die.”

 

Sam shot a burst of electricity at Milton, and Milton closed his eyes, anticipating the grisly death that was coming to him. When he opened his eyes, however, he was back in the lab. He looked at his wristphone again. A quarter to three.

 

“Okay, done,” mumbled Ed. “Now to get this to the machine.”

 

Ed took the repaired metal spine to what appeared to be an MRI scanner. He saw a spine-shaped depression in the bed of the scanner and fitted the spine into it. He then pressed a button next to the bed, and it rolled into the scanner’s tube, which immediately closed itself once the bed was inside.

 

“Is that…” began Milton.

 

“Yes,” affirmed Ed, looking at the scanner’s progress using a tablet.

 

After what felt like a decade to Milton, the tube opened up, and the bed slid out of it, this time with Sam, whose eyes were closed and whose fingers were shooting off small sparks of electricity, lying where the spine used to be.

 

“He did it,” whispered Milton. “That son of a bitch did it!”

 

Milton ran over to the bed.

 

“Be careful,” whispered Ed. “He could wake up at any moment and we don’t want to scare him.”

 

Sam opened his eyes and yawned, stretching his entire body.

 

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked, looking around. “Where am I?”

 

“You’re in my laboratory,” Ed replied. “I’m Ed Wart, in case you don’t remember me.”

 

“Don’t remember you? How could I forget?” Sam chuckled.

 

“I’m glad you’re doing all right,” said Milton.

 

“James? I haven’t seen you in forever! Why aren’t you in Alveus? Wait…Alveus…I was just in Alveus,” muttered Sam.

 

“Don’t strain yourself too hard,” warned Ed. “You’re still recovering.”

 

“I was killed! A rocket hit me! How am I alive?” asked Sam.

 

“I’m afraid I wasn’t completely honest with you when I told you what that spine was capable of,” Ed told him. “In addition to amazing electrical powers, it gives you the ability to come back.”

 

“Come back from what?” Sam’s hands began to shake.

 

“Come back from the dead,” said Ed.

 

Sam sat up, trying to register what he just heard. Back from the dead. He remembered a moment from his childhood, a moment he hadn’t thought about in a long time. He was eight years old. He was staying up late against his mother’s orders, waiting for his dad to come home from his job, which was a mystery to young Sam because his father was very secretive, sometimes even hostile, whenever young Sam brought it up.

 

Young Sam hid behind a couch, which was very old, very shabby, with springs sticking out of it. The end of one of the springs nearly poked his eye out, but it was worth it if it meant even catching a glimpse of his dad’s elusive job. He heard the doorknob turn, and he giggled with excitement. He saw two muddy boots walk in, and a shovel fell to the floor, startling him so much that he jumped.

 

“Sam,” a deep voice said. “I know you’re under there.”

 

Disappointed that he’d been found out, young Sam came out from under the couch with his head down.

 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” his father asked him.

 

“I wanted to see what you did for a living,” squeaked young Sam.

 

The father laughed.

 

“Well, I guess there’s no point keeping it from you any longer. I’m a resurrection man!” said his father.

 

“A resurrection man?” repeated young Sam. “What’s that?”

 

“I bring back the dead,” whispered his father.

 

“Really?” asked a suspicious young Sam.

 

“Yeah. I dig them up their bodies so I can give them new lives.”

 

“Wow.”

 

Young Sam was very impressed by his father’s “resurrection man” activities, but the police weren’t when they caught him in the act a year later. It turned out that he robbed graves and sold the bodies to sharks and other predators for hefty sums. While it made Sam’s father enough to support his family, it was also very illegal, and he was locked up for a very long time to be made an example of.

 

Sam’s mother got a job after her husband was arrested, but she didn’t make nearly as much as he did. She and Sam were forced to move out of their apartment and into an even worse one, and Sam decided to enlist in the army at the earliest possible age after not seeing his father for six years.  Sam vowed to be a better father for his son, but Sam, lying in the bed in Ed’s laboratory, knew all to well how that didn’t work out.

 

“Should we leave?” asked Milton.

 

“It was you,” said Sam.

 

“What do you mean by that?” Milton sweated.

 

“You saved me. After I died. You saved my life. Thank you.”

 

Milton stopped sweating.

 

“Anything for a friend,” he said.

[JCM]

Crisis Management

 

James Milton sat at his office desk with a cup of coffee and turned on his holographic television.

 

“Business magnate Cecil Carpfish was found dead this morning. Cause of death is not known,” said an announcer.

 

Milton smiled as he took a sip of coffee. Suddenly, Charles Rutherford burst into his office.

 

“What the hell, Milton?” screeched Rutherford.

 

“Hello to you, too,” said Milton.

 

“You knew you couldn’t beat Cecil, so you had him killed!”

 

“That’s an interesting theory.”

 

“This is low even for you! You won’t get away with this! The Pacific City police will be standing right where I am to arrest you in a few hours! I guarantee it!”

 

Milton took another sip of coffee and looked back up at the holographic television.

 

“Breaking news! The PCPD has just released details of Cecil Carpfish’s death! It has been ruled a suicide,” said the announcer.

 

Another holographic screen appeared showing the commissioner of the Pacific City Police Department standing behind a podium.

 

“I’m glad my boys were able to wrap this up as quickly as they did and bring closure to Mr. Carpfish’s family,” said the commissioner.

 

“This can’t be possible,” whispered Rutherford.

 

“I guess the stress in Cecil’s life finally caught with him,” said Milton. “It’s sad. He was a good man.”

 

Rutherford clenched one of his fins into a fist and used the other to grab Milton’s cup of coffee and throw it through the holographic television, behind which it shattered.

 

“Neptune, man! You don’t have to throw a tantrum!” said Milton.

 

“What did you do, bribe the whole police department?” Rutherford asked him.

 

“No!” said Milton. “Not even I have that kind of money.”

 

 “Then how did you do it? How did you get them to cover up Cecil’s death? How did you even kill Cecil in the first place? He has one of the most secure homes in the ocean.”

 

“The answer to those questions is obvious. I didn’t do it.”

 

 “Keep lying! I don’t care! I’ll run against you myself if I have to.”

 

“I won’t stop you.”

 

“Yes, you will. I’ll probably end up like Cecil, won’t I? Doesn’t matter. Unlike you, I have integrity. ”

 

Rutherford walked out of the office, and Milton took a deep breath before dialing Sam’s number on his wristphone.

 

“I’m sorry,” said a feminine voice from the wristphone. “That number is unavailable.”

 

“Damn it,” said Milton. “I guess he really is done with me.”

 

Milton looked at the pool of black coffee underneath the holographic television. He didn’t usually drink his coffee black, but he wanted to try something new that day. He was almost relieved that Rutherford spilled it, because it tasted terrible.

 

He walked over the mess and used a rag to clean it up. While he was doing so, a piece of broken cup punctured his hand, reminding him of Cyclops shattering a mirror over his knee. Milton hyperventilated as he saw the blood rush from his palm, but he quickly regained his composure and wrapped the rag, now black with coffee stains, around his hand. He then used a feather duster to sweep the pieces of cup into a garbage bin.

 

Milton returned to his desk, putting his head down on the smooth wood as he listened to the holographic television. This office was all he had now, and he wouldn’t let anybody take it away from him. He killed for it once, and he would kill for it again, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to this time. He didn’t have to. At least not yet.

 

---

 

SpongeBryan lay in his bed after another sleepless night. Pat and Ron tip-toed into the apartment.

 

"I'm awake," he said.

 

"Oh," said Pat. "How are you?"

 

"I still want Wally dead, if that's what you're wondering," said SpongeBryan.

 

Pat was quiet.

 

"But I don't want to be the person to kill him anymore," SpongeBryan continued. "Wally must have had a lot of anger inside him to do what he did. The last thing I want is to end up like that."

 

"You're right," said Ron. "He isn't worth it"

 

"I doubt we’ve seen the last of him, though,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“If he comes after us, we’ll deal with it,” said Pat. “After all, we’ve dealt with worse.”

 

“Yeah,” agreed Ron. “Wally’s nothing compared to his father. I’m sorry he died, but I’m glad he isn’t out there zapping people anymore.”

 

---

 

Sam opened the box containing his new wristphone. As he attached it to his wrist, he heard the doorbell ring.

 

“It’s me!” said Wally, standing on the porch of Sam’s house. “I brought food!”

 

Sam let Wally in, and Wally gave him two bags of groceries.

 

“Thank you for doing this,” said Sam, taking the groceries into the kitchen.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” said Wally. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

 

Sam put the groceries on a table and turned around. “Because letting anybody know I’m alive is risky. I wanted to call you as soon as I came back, but Milton talked me out of it, saying he didn’t know if this was permanent and that I shouldn’t bring your hopes up.”

 

“Wait, Milton? The mayor of Alveus?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“The same man who ordered the attack that killed you in the first place?”

 

“He did what?”

 

Wally’s eyes widened. “Oh…you didn’t know, did you?”

 

“Of course. He didn’t tell me. Of course he didn’t tell me!”

Sam grabbed a hat and sunglasses and ran towards the front door. Wally stopped him, holding him by the shirt.

 

“Where are you going?” asked Wally.

 

“I’m going to have a conversation with Mayor Milton.”

 

“Please don’t do that. You have enough blood on your hands.”

 

 “You want to know why I killed Cecil Carpfish?”

 

Wally closed his eyes, trying not to think about it.

 

“The day I asked you about your Harp00ner system, Carpfish, who uses the system, turns up dead. It’s okay. I know you know,” said Sam.

 

After a minute, Wally opened his eyes. “Why did you do it?”

 

“It was a favor to him. To Milton. He told me I owed him.” Sam laughed. “He told me I owed him!”

 

“Dad, he’s still your friend,” said Wally. “He probably didn’t know that you were with us when he had Cecil send the robots.”

 

“What kind of friend lies to you for six months? I’ll tell you. Someone who isn’t really a friend.”

 

Wally looked down.

 

“Please let go of my shirt,” said Sam.

 

“SpongeBryan and I had a falling out!” Wally screamed. “And it was my fault!”

 

“What?”

 

“After you died, or I thought you died, I blamed him. Him and his friends. I went crazy. I spent the next six months going on ‘shopping trips’ with them, learning everything I could about how they circumvented the security systems in the Upper Ring and then using their knowledge against them in the form of Harp00ner.”

”That’s why you created Harp00ner?”

 

“I wasn’t exactly a security nut before then. Yesterday, SpongeBryan found out, and we got into a fight. I stabbed him. Neptune, I stabbed him!  Then you called me, and you asked me to meet you here, and I was so happy you were alive. I was so happy I didn’t even notice how interested you were in Harp00ner. I didn’t care. When I returned to Alveus, I was prepared to put everything behind me, but SpongeBryan and his friends attacked me, and I just went crazy again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I need you, dad. I need you to be here for me.”

 

Wally looked up again to show that his eyes were filled with tears.

 

“I want to be there for you,” said Sam. “I want to be there for you the way my father wasn’t there for me, but…I can’t.”

 

Sam let a small spark of electricity escape his finger, and it shocked Wally’s hand. Wally let go of Sam’s shirt, and Sam stormed out of the house. Wally looked down at his hand and saw that it was burnt. He wiped the tears away from his eyes as he left the house, ignited his rocket boots and flew towards Alveus, hoping to catch up with his father and stop him.

 

---

 

Jim took the order of an elderly couple seated in the corner of the restaurant.

 

“Hey, I know you!” the woman of the couple realized. “You’re the son of that man. What was his name, dear?”

 

“Mr. Carpfish,” grumbled her husband, who didn’t seem to want to be there.

 

“That’s it,” said the woman. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

 

“Thank you,” said Jim. “I’ll be back with your food later.”

 

As Jim walked away from the table, the manager approached him.

 

“You know, you didn’t have to come today,” said the manager. “I would have understood.”

 

“No, the best thing for me right now is to keep busy,” said Jim. “Besides, I need the money.”

 

“What about your inheritance?” asked the manager.

 

“I turned it down. I still want nothing to do with him or his company. He killed any chance we had of reconciling when he killed himself.”

 

The manager sighed. “Come to my office. I have something to tell you.”

 

Jim walked into a small, cluttered office room with his manager behind him. The manager locked the door.

 

“Your father didn’t kill himself,” said the manager.

 

“What?” said Jim. “How would you know that?”

 

“I got a visit yesterday.”

 

“From who?”

 

“Electric Man.”

 

Jim was confused. “That’s not possible. He’s dead.”

 

“Apparently not, because he was alive and breathing when I saw him. He told me that you were going to ask to leave early so you could talk with your father, and he told me to say we were too busy and that I couldn’t allow that.”

 

“Why would he do that?”

 

The manager thought for a minute. “I saw him following your dad after he left. My guess is he’s the one who killed Mr. Carpfish.”

 

“But the cops said it was a suicide. They’d know if it was Electric Man’s work. Why would they lie?”

 

“Self-preservation. If the rest of Pacific City learned that Electric Man was alive and out on the streets killing people, there’d be panic. The police force would have to find and arrest him fast, and Electric Man wasn’t just a war hero. He was a bounty hunter. He knew the best ways to find people, and more importantly, he knew the best ways to get lost. A manhunt would yield nothing, and the cops know this. They figure the easiest thing to do is tell the public that your dad offed himself and wash their hands of this.”

 

“I can’t believe it,” breathed Jim.

 

“It’s the truth. Electric Man told me he’d kill me if I told you or anybody else about our meeting, but I’d rather die than have this on my conscience any longer.”

 

“I…I’ve got to get back to work.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

Jim stopped halfway out the door. “No. You know what? I think I’ll take a break today, after all.”

 

Jim changed out of his suit, walked out of the restaurant, and hailed a taxi.

 

“Where to?” said the taxi driver.

 

“Alveus,” said Jim.

 

---

 

Ron flipped through the channels of the holographic television in his and Pat’s grocery store.

 

“Wait, go back to the last one,” said SpongeBryan, who was eating from a bag of kelp chips.

 

Ron flipped to the previous channel, which had the announcer from before.

 

“…PCPD confirms Cecil Carpfish’s death was a suicide,” said the announcer.

“Whoa,” said Pat. “Really?”

“I did not expect that,” said Ron. “He had everything. Money, power, money. Why would he commit suicide?”

“It’s not that simple,” said SpongeBryan. “I doubt his life was perfect. Hell, he had a son who hated him.”

“Speaking of that, I wonder how Jim is taking it,” said Pat. “I know they weren’t on speaking terms, but he was still Jim’s father.”

There was a knock on the door.

“A customer! We finally have a customer!” said Ron.

“We’re open!” said SpongeBryan.

Wally walked in.

“Oh, shit! Did you bring the laser guns?” asked Ron.

“No, I don’t carry laser guns everywhere with me,” said Pat.

“Don’t worry! I come in peace,” said Wally. “I came here because I need your help.”

“Why would we help you? After everything?” hissed SpongeBryan.

“I know. At this point, I wouldn’t help myself. But this isn’t about me. This is about my dad,” said Wally.

“What are you talking about? Your father’s dead,” said Pat.

“No, he isn’t. He came back to life,” said Wally.

“How?” asked Ron.

“I don’t know,” admitted Wally. “But one thing I do know is that he killed Cecil Carpfish, and he’s going to kill the mayor!”

“He didn’t kill Cecil Carpfish,” said SpongeBryan. “Cecil Carpfish killed himself.”

“No, my dad killed him. The cops are covering it up,” said Wally.

“Why should we believe you? How do we know this isn’t one of your tricks?” asked Pat.

“I’m done scheming. I just want to save the mayor before my dad gets to him. If Milton dies, whoever replaces him will be a lot worse,” said Wally.

“He’s right,” said SpongeBryan. “Milton’s been the only thing keeping this city together since Cyclops’ attack. Without him, there could be civil war.”

“Damn,” said Ron. “We have to help him, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” said SpongeBryan. “But if this is another trap, Wally, I swear to Neptune…”

“It’s not,” Wally interrupted. “You have my word.”

“Well,” said Pat. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go back to the apartment and get our laser guns!”

“The laser guns you should have had on you this entire time?” asked Ron.

“Shut up,” said Pat.

SpongeBryan, Pat, Ron, and Wally exited the grocery store as a taxi containing Jim Carpfish entered Alveus. Jim saw a lomg, jagged line of electricity cut through the darkness in front of the taxi.

“Could it be?” wondered Jim.

“Looks like we’ve got some lightning,” said the taxi driver.

“Yeah. Lightning.”

[JCM]

Fight or Flight

 

Sam walked into Milton’s office only to find that it was empty.

 

“Where are you?” muttered Sam.

 

Sam looked around the office and noticed a flyer on the ground with Milton’s face and the words “Vote for James Milton” over it. Sam rolled his eyes, picked up the flyer, and stuffed it in his pocket. Sam left the office and grabbed the first fish to walk by.

 

“What the…Electric Man?” gasped the fish.

 

Sam took the flyer out of his pocket and showed it to the fish.

 

“Seen this man?” asked Sam.

 

“The mayor? Yeah,” said the fish. “He’s at the Hub.”

 

Sam released the fish from his grasp and started walking away.

 

“Wait!” cried the fish.

 

Sam turned around, impatient.

 

“I-I’m a big fan of yours. I was wondering if you could sign this before you go,” said the fish, holding out an Electric Man comic book.

 

The comic book featured Sam in a heroic pose, lightning shooting out of two of his fingers.

 

Sam smiled. “They still make these?”

 

“Not anymore,” said the fish. “This is one of the last ones the company made. It’s my favorite out of all of them. I never go anywhere without it.”

 

“Got a pen?”

 

“Oh, yes! Of course.”

 

The fish reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small pen. Sam used the pen to write his name on the comic book, giving the comic book and the pen back to the fish once he was finished.

 

“I can’t believe youre alive,” said the fish, staring at the name on the comic book in disbelief.

 

“I couldn’t believe it, either,” said Sam.

 

The fish was a teenager, Sam realized. He was no older than Sam was when he joined the army.

 

“I’m sorry for scaring you like that. I guess I can’t control the bounty hunter in me sometimes,” admitted Sam.

 

“That’s okay,” said the fish. “It was all worth it to meet you. I never thought this would ever happen.”

 

Sam nodded and walked away again.

 

---

 

SpongeBryan and Wally flew through the dark skies with their rocket boots, neither saying a word to the other. Pat and Ron joined them.

 

“Do you have your laser guns?” asked SpongeBryan.

 

“You betcha!” said Ron.

 

“Alright, let’s speed up. We don’t want Wally’s dad to get to Milton before we do,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“I think I saw on the news that the mayor would be campaigning in the Hub around this time,” said Pat.

 

“Alright, then. To the Hub,” said SpongeBryan.

 

Wally’s wristphone began to blink.

 

“Intruder alert, intruder alert,” said the wristphone.

 

“Oh, great,” moaned Wally. “Someone broke into my apartment.”

 

“Then you better check it out,” said Ron.

 

“Are you sure?” asked Wally. “Will you be fine without me?”

 

“Finer than we’ll be with you,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“SpongeBryan,” said Pat through gritted teeth.

 

“I said he could tag along. Not that we’d get along,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“It’s fine. I deserve it,” said Wally. “See you soon.”

 

Wally turned around and flew in the other direction.

 

“I’m not Wally’s biggest fan, but the way you’re treating him is harsh,” said Ron.

 

“What’s harsh is dealing with the pain of a stab wound, exacerbated by these damn rocket boots, while the person who caused the stab wound is right next to you,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“Can you at least try to be nice until we save the mayor from Wally’s father?” asked Pat.

 

“I’ll try,” said SpongeBryan. “But in my eyes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

 

---

 

Milton handed out flyers to random passersby in the Hub, the meeting-place of Upper Ringers, which was considered the center of social life in the exclusive neighborhood. Most of Milton’s flyers ended up in a trashcan, but he was used to the lack of an enthusiastic response at that point. He just wanted the Upper Ringers to know he hadn’t forgotten about them, and with Charles Rutherford launching his own opposing campaign, he needed them to know that more than ever now.

 

“At least Charlie isn’t here to stir up trouble,” Milton said to himself.

 

Suddenly, Milton saw Rutherford jump onto a table with one of Milton’s flyers in his hand.

 

“I spoke too soon,” grumbled Milton.

 

“Don’t vote for the freak-sympathizer Mayor Milton! Don’t vote for someone to promotes the Lower Ring’s interests over our own!” shouted Rutherford, ripping the flyer to pieces. “Vote for me, Charles Rutherford! I’ll put those leeches in their place!”

 

Everyone in the Hub except Milton cheered.

 

“What the hell?” whispered Milton.

 

“In case you aren’t familiar, that’s the sound of you losing, Milton,” said Rutherford. “What, are you going to off me the way you offed Cecil?”

 

“Milton killed Cecil?” asked an Upper Ringer.

 

“I knew he was a crook!” yelled another Upper Ringer.

 

“No…no…I didn’t kill Cecil,” said Milton.

 

“He’s right. He didn’t kill Cecil,” said a voice in the middle of a group of Upper Ringers.

 

The group separated to reveal that the voice was Sam’s.

 

“What are you doing here?” asked Milton.

 

“You know why I’m here,” said Sam. “Wally told me everything.”

 

Milton thought for a second then ducked under a table as Sam unleashed a powerful electric discharge. The Upper Ringers panicked, tripping over themselves as they ran out of the Hub.

 

“It’s just you and me,” said Sam after all the Upper Ringers were gone. He shot a spark of electricity at Milton, and Milton rolled out from under the table with an electrosonic raygun pointed at Sam.

 

“I h-hate to do this to you, f-friend, but you l-leave me no choice,” stuttered Milton.

 

Sam looked at the electrosonic raygun with surprise then knocked it out of Milton’s hand with another spark.

 

“I really should have accounted for that,” said Milton, ducking back under the table to avoid more of Sam’s electric sparks.

 

 

Wally flew to his apartment and saw a hole where his doorknob once was. He pulled out a laser gun, kicked his door open, and walked into the apartment slowly.

 

“Hello?” said Wally.

 

“Hello, Wally,” said Jim, sitting on a couch in the middle of the living room.

 

Wally sighed. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

 

“I wanted to talk to you,” said Jim. “About your father.”

 

“What about him?” said Wally.

 

“Is he alive?”

 

Wally sweated. “How should I know?”

 

“Don’t lie to me, Wally. Is your dad alive?”

 

“You obviously know he’s alive, so why do you need me to confirm it?”

 

Jim stood up. “What else do you know about him?”

 

“I don’t have time for this.”

 

“What else do you know?” said Jim in a louder voice.

 

Wally’s lips quivered. “He killed your father. Is that what you wanted me to say? That my father killed your father? You already knew that, too. Here’s something you probably didn’t know. My father’s about to kill the mayor!’

 

Jim raised an eyebrow. “The mayor?”

 

“I was on my way to stop him before I got an alert about you breaking into my apartment.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone sooner? Why didn’t you go to the press about this?”

 

Wally shook his head in frustration. “He’s my dad! How many of your dad’s crimes have you had to sweep under the rug?”

 

Jim tried to think of a comeback, but he couldn’t. Wally was right. He let his father get away with so much. It wasn’t reasonable to fault Wally for doing the same.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Jim. “I’m just so pissed off.”

 

“I understand,” said Wally. “I felt the same way after my dad died, or at least when I thought he was dead. Now I don’t know how to feel.”

 

“You should probably go back to saving the mayor,” said Jim. “The last thing I want is for him to end up like my father.”

 

Wally started to leave the apartment, but he stopped.

 

“Our dads…they weren’t perfect…but they tried. Sometimes they didn’t try hard enough, but you always have to appreciate that, and I don’t know, try to be a bit better,” said Wally.

 

“Yeah,” said Jim.

 

“Will you be okay in here?” asked Wally.

 

“Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

 

Wally left the apartment and ignited his rocket boots. Jim watched as Wally flew off.

 

---

 

Milton continued to deflect Sam’s attacks with the table until he saw where the electrosonic raygun landed. He pushed the table with all his might, knocking Sam over, and jumped for the raygun. Sam shot a spark of electricity out of his toe, hitting Milton in one of his eyes just as he grabbed the raygun. Milton’s eye swelled a bit, but he ignored it as he pointed the raygun to Sam again. Sam shot a burst of electricity out of his palm as he dodged the beam from the electrosonic raygun. The burst hit Milton on the cheek as he attempted to dodge it, and he felt a burning sensation that seemed to cover his entire face.

 

He continued shooting beams out of the raygun, all of which missed, and the raygun was so noisy that Milton’s ears began to bleed. He struggled to ignore it. Milton’s damaged eye swelled shut as he danced around Sam’s electric blasts. He began to feel tired, but he knew he couldn’t slow down, because once he slowed down, he was dead. Eventually, he became so exhausted that he passed out just in time for SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron to reach the Hub.

 

“He sure did a number on the mayor,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“Finally,” wheezed Sam.

 

Sam created a ball of electricity in his palm and aimed it at the unconscious Milton. Before he could throw the ball, however, he saw SpongeBob, Pat, and Ron pointing laser guns at him, and he jumped out of the way just as they pulled the triggers.

 

“Damn it! Are you three insane?” shouted Sam.

 

“Leave the mayor alone,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“Do you know what he did? Do you have any idea what that man did?” asked Sam.

 

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t hurt him,” said Pat.

 

“It’s not up to you,” said Sam, shooting an electric spark at Pat and Ron.

 

Ron attempted to deflect the spark, with a mirror, but the mirror shattered when the spark hit it. Sam blasted more electricity at Pat and Ron, but they flew around it as SpongeBob shot at Sam with his laser gun, Sam masterfully avoiding each laser.

 

“I don’t have time for this,” said Sam, grabbing the table that knocked him over and throwing it at SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron.

 

The table caught SpongeBryan by surprise, hitting him and causing him to lose control of his rocket boots. He flew head-first into a coral tree, and after recovering from dizziness, he spotted the electrosonic raygun in Milton’s hand.

 

Pat and Ron, who flew under the table before it could hit them, continued shooting lasers at Sam, who countered with electrical blasts. While Sam and the starfish twins fought, SpongeBryan tiptoed to where Milton lay and slid the electrosonic raygun out of Milton’s fin. He then pointed the raygun at Sam, who was too busy with Pat and Ron to notice him.

 

“Stop!” screamed Wally.

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, Ron, and Sam turned their heads. Wally was hovering over the coral tree SpongeBryan collided with.

 

“What are you doing? I asked you to stop my dad, not cripple him again,” said Wally.

 

SpongeBryan clenched his teeth. “You’re the last person who should be lecturing me!”

 

“Son?” whispered Sam.

 

“Let it go, dad. Please, just let it go,” said Wally, gesturing towards the unconscious Milton. “He’s had enough.”

 

The teenage fish from earlier ran into the Hub with a few of his friends.

 

“There he is!” said the fish. “Electric Man! I told you he was alive!”

 

“Wow,” said one of the fish’s friends.

 

“You kids shouldn’t be here,” murmured Sam.

 

“I’m sorry,” said the fish. “They didn’t believe me!”

 

“It’s really him,” said another one of the fish’s friends.

 

“You seem to have some fans, dad,” said Wally.

 

“Who’s the freak?” said the fish’s third friend.

 

Sam picked the fish up by the shirt.

 

“That freak is my son,” growled Sam.

 

Sam dropped the fish, and he and the rest of the teenagers hurried out of the Hub. Sam walked to Milton, and he stood over his former general for a while.

 

“Should we do something?” asked Ron.

 

Wally shook his head. Pat and Ron turned to SpongeBryan, and he shrugged.

 

“Goodbye for the last time, old friend,” said Sam, spitting on Milton’s forehead.

 

Sam walked to SpongeBryan and grabbed his shoulder, startling him.

 

“Sorry for my son,” lamented Sam. “I know what it’s like to feel betrayed by someone close to you.”

 

SpongeBryan nodded. Sam walked out of the Hub, and an hour later, Milton regained consciousness in his office.

 

“I just had the worst nightmare,” said Milton just as Wally entered his office.

 

“Glad you’re up,” said Wally.

 

“What the…you’re his son! You’re the one who told him everything!” exclaimed Milton.

 

“Yes, I am,” said Wally. “But it’s over now.”

 

“It’s over?” repeated Milton. “Does that mean he forgave me?”

 

“No,” said Wally. “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive you. And I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me. But they’ll try, I hope.”

 

Wally leaned out the door of the office.

 

“He’s awake!” Wally announced.

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron came into the office seconds later.

 

 “Hey, mayor. How’re you feeling?” asked Pat.

 

“I’ve felt better,” replied Milton, standing up. “Listen, I don’t think I have what it takes to do this job anymore. I’ve sacrificed a lifelong friendship and my own personal integrity trying to hold onto it, though I guess I never had much integrity to begin with. Every time I think I do, I fall right back into my old, nasty habits. I’m done. I love being mayor, but it’s time for someone new to take my place.”

 

“Who are you talking about? Rutherford?” asked Ron.

 

“Hell no,” said Milton. “Maybe one of you would like to take up the reins?”

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, Ron, and Wally looked at each other.

 

“I’m not better than you are,” said Wally.

 

“We still have a store to run,” said Pat. “However unsuccessful it is.”

 

“That just leaves you, SpongeBryan,” said Ron.

 

“Who, me?” SpongeBryan laughed. “A Lower Ringer has never been elected to office in this city.”

”That’s because Lower Ringers don’t believe things can change,” said Milton. “You’d be the embodiment of that change.”

 

“I’m not a mayor. I’m a thief,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“People can change, too,” said Milton.

 

SpongeBryan took out his laser gun, held it in his hand for what felt like the longest time, and threw it on Milton’s desk.

 

“Okay, let’s do it. Let’s change things,” said SpongeBryan, determined.

 

Milton smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll cancel my re-election campaign while throwing full support behind yours.”

 

“Now? Are you sure I’m ready?” asked SpongeBryan.

 

“About as ready as I was when I first campaigned for this position. In other words, not at all,” said Milton. “That’s okay. You’ll learn, with a bit of help from me, of course.”

 

“And we’ll definitely be at your side to support you,” said Ron.

 

“And me, if you’ll let me,” said Wally.

SpongeBryan was tight-lipped.

 

“Like I said, people can change,” said Milton.

 

“Some people don’t,” said SpongeBryan. “Pat and Ron have been my friends since grade school. I know them, and I know they would never hurt me intentionally. Wally, though, meticulously planned his betrayal for six months, six long months, and he expects everything to be okay after a day? No. It’ll take a lot longer than that for me to believe he’s changed, and even then, I don’t know if I’ll ever fully trust him again. If you want to assist with my campaign, Wally, I won’t stop you. I need all the help I can get if I’m going to win. But don’t think this means we’re friends again. If you do, you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment.”

 

SpongeBryan left Milton’s office. Pat and Ron looked at Wally, who was holding back tears, but instead of consoling him, they chose to follow SpongeBryan.

 

“Do people change, Mr. Milton? asked Wally. “You, me, and my dad have let ourselves get consumed by darkness. How do we know it’ll never happen again?”

 

“We don’t,” said Milton, sitting back down and clasping his fins over his desk. “But I believe we all have the power to suppress that darkness. We just need to use it.”

 

Milton turned on his holographic television.

 

“Sightings of Electric Man have been recorded all over Pacific City and neighboring Alveus,” said an announcer.

 

“I guess the secret’s out,” said Wally.

 

“I guess so,” said Milton.

 

Wally found a chair beside a wall and dragged it next to Milton’s desk. He sat down, watching the holographic television with the mayor.

 

---

 

Four years later…

 

SpongeBryan was in the chair Milton once sat in, watching the holographic television in what was now his. Pat and Ron sat beside him.

 

“This is a good one,” said Pat.

 

“Yeah, he gets hit in the head with two coconuts this time!” said Ron.

 

“Damn it, Ron, you spoiled it,” said Pat.

 

“Sorry,” said Ron.

 

“Guys, this movie’s two thousand years old. I know what happens,” said SpongeBryan. “Besides, shouldn’t we be focusing on my re-election campaign?”

 

“You’re a lock to win it!” said Ron. “No mayor has done more for the Lower Ring than you have. They make up 90% of Alveus’ population, but they were like 1% of the voters before you were on the ballot and over 50% in the last election. Thanks to your reforms, there will be even more this time”

 

“Things are finally changing for the better,” said Pat. “I never thought I’d live to see it.”

 

“So, how’s Jim?” asked SpongeBryan after several minutes of silence.

 

“He’s doing great,” said Pat. “Managing the Cecil Carpfish Foundation has given him a sense of purpose he’s never had before. He’s stopped drinking. Perhaps you should get into charity work, Ron.”

 

“Hey! I haven’t had a drink in almost a week now!” claimed Ron. “Or was it two weeks? I don’t remember.”

 

“How about Wally?” inquired SpongeBryan.

 

“He’s fine. He’s been asking about you,” said Pat. “Do you think you’ll ever be ready to see him again?”

 

“Maybe someday,” said SpongeBryan, looking out the window.

 

“What are you thinking about?” asked Ron.

 

“That little ray of light there. I don’t think I’ve seen that before,” said SpongeBryan.

 

“Well, let’s get a closer look!” said Pat.

 

SpongeBryan, Pat, and Ron ran outside. They each stood under the beam, letting its light wash over them, and once it was SpongeBryan’s turn, he looked up and noticed some strange shape.

 

“Could it be?” asked SpongeBryan.

 

“What?” said Ron.

 

SpongeBryan smiled. “Flowers.”

 

---

 

Author’s Note: At 3000+ words, this is the longest chapter I’ve written by far, and it’d be even longer if I weren’t on the verge of insanity by the tenth page. I started writing Cyberpunk almost three years ago, and three years later, I’m finally wrapping it up for good. You’ll notice that this ending is a lot more optimistic than the last one, and the body count isn’t nearly as high. After all I put the characters through, I figured they deserved happy endings, despite those not being common in these types of stories. I will admit I had no idea how this six-episode limited series would turn out when I started it, but I’m mostly happy with the results. I doubt I’ll be doing anything like it again anytime soon, though. Once again, thank you to everyone who read, whether you started a month ago or three years ago when I really had no idea what I was doing. As frustrating as it got, it was fun writing this, and I’m glad I didn’t give up on it any one of the times my fatigued brain told me to do so, and there were a lot of them. Until next time, bonjour, farewell, and see you all later!