Ripkins removed a palm-sized
medallion from his pocket. With a flick of his thumb, he launched
it
spinning into the air. Like a coin spinning fast on its edge, the remote eye became almost impossible to see. But unlike a coin, the thing flew. Emitting no more sound than the rapid flutter of insect wings, it spun through an opening in the demarcation barrier’s mesh and into Wonderland, transmitting images directly back to Ripkins’ visual cortex. He saw what it saw: the number and location of card soldiers on border patrol.
“A full hand,” he said. “Pair of Threes. Pair of Fours. Lone Two.” The remote eye flew back through the demarcation barrier. Ripkins caught it and stowed it in his pocket. He called out to the card soldiers on the other side of the barrier: “Pretty dull work, just pacing up and back all day, isn’t it? Don’t know about you cards, but I didn’t sign up for this boring detail! Luckily, I’ve got something that helps us Boarderland guards pass the time! Come here and I’ll show it to you!”
The two nations were not at war and the soldiers had no reason to think of Boarderland guards as enemies. The Three Cards ventured close. “Yeah?”
They tried to get a view of Ripkins through the eyesquintingly bright sound waves, when— Thewp! Thewp!
Ripkins harpooned them with kill-quills, yanked hard on the coils attached to the quills’ blunt ends and pulled the soldiers into the demarcation barrier’s mesh. Tzzzzzzzzccckkkkzzzkkkckch!
The dead card soldiers acted as shields, created a gap in the sound waves through which Ripkins and Blister jumped safely into Wonderland, tumbling and rolling because razor-cards were slicing the air and ground all around them, the Four Cards making the most of their AD52s while the Two Card tapped his ammo belt, about to transmit an emergency message via his crystal communicator, except— Mid-roll, with effortless accuracy, Blister pulled the trigger of his crystal shooter and shot the Two Card dead.
Ripkins lobbed a whipsnake grenade at the Four Cards, and while they danced and hopped to avoid its deadly coils—sending razor-cards everywhere but at their attackers—he and Blister sprinted forward. Suffering the nasty twistings of body parts that should never be twisted, the card soldiers fell, lifeless, and Arch’s bodyguards were soon pushing through the tangles of Outerwilderbeastia, crunching twigs and leaves underfoot.
“Visit the labs?” Blister said, referring to the squat network of buildings in Wondertropolis’ warehouse district, where a consortium of Alyss’ scientists and engineers had tried to transform a host of captured Glass Eyes into a benign force. On lab grounds were the incinerator baths—large pits into which Glass Eyes were being herded and melted down, scorched into ash. There would be lots of Glass Eyes to choose from at the labs, but Ripkins shook his head. “Too much security,” he said.
“Find one that’s roaming?”
spinning into the air. Like a coin spinning fast on its edge, the remote eye became almost impossible to see. But unlike a coin, the thing flew. Emitting no more sound than the rapid flutter of insect wings, it spun through an opening in the demarcation barrier’s mesh and into Wonderland, transmitting images directly back to Ripkins’ visual cortex. He saw what it saw: the number and location of card soldiers on border patrol.
“A full hand,” he said. “Pair of Threes. Pair of Fours. Lone Two.” The remote eye flew back through the demarcation barrier. Ripkins caught it and stowed it in his pocket. He called out to the card soldiers on the other side of the barrier: “Pretty dull work, just pacing up and back all day, isn’t it? Don’t know about you cards, but I didn’t sign up for this boring detail! Luckily, I’ve got something that helps us Boarderland guards pass the time! Come here and I’ll show it to you!”
The two nations were not at war and the soldiers had no reason to think of Boarderland guards as enemies. The Three Cards ventured close. “Yeah?”
They tried to get a view of Ripkins through the eyesquintingly bright sound waves, when— Thewp! Thewp!
Ripkins harpooned them with kill-quills, yanked hard on the coils attached to the quills’ blunt ends and pulled the soldiers into the demarcation barrier’s mesh. Tzzzzzzzzccckkkkzzzkkkckch!
The dead card soldiers acted as shields, created a gap in the sound waves through which Ripkins and Blister jumped safely into Wonderland, tumbling and rolling because razor-cards were slicing the air and ground all around them, the Four Cards making the most of their AD52s while the Two Card tapped his ammo belt, about to transmit an emergency message via his crystal communicator, except— Mid-roll, with effortless accuracy, Blister pulled the trigger of his crystal shooter and shot the Two Card dead.
Ripkins lobbed a whipsnake grenade at the Four Cards, and while they danced and hopped to avoid its deadly coils—sending razor-cards everywhere but at their attackers—he and Blister sprinted forward. Suffering the nasty twistings of body parts that should never be twisted, the card soldiers fell, lifeless, and Arch’s bodyguards were soon pushing through the tangles of Outerwilderbeastia, crunching twigs and leaves underfoot.
“Visit the labs?” Blister said, referring to the squat network of buildings in Wondertropolis’ warehouse district, where a consortium of Alyss’ scientists and engineers had tried to transform a host of captured Glass Eyes into a benign force. On lab grounds were the incinerator baths—large pits into which Glass Eyes were being herded and melted down, scorched into ash. There would be lots of Glass Eyes to choose from at the labs, but Ripkins shook his head. “Too much security,” he said.
“Find one that’s roaming?”