Doc had been studying the coin in its plastic bag for several minutes. “Want a cup of tea?” Doc pushed a button on his console, and a steaming cup of tea emerged from a pocket that slipped open. Mikah shook his head no.

      “Let me tell you about third grade.” Doc took a sip. He seemed satisfied with the flavor.

      “Okay.” Mikah had no idea what this had to do with the coin. He assumed that Doc would get there.

      “I loved science. So much. Still do. But third grade was where it really came together. So much happened that year. It was the Midvale World’s Fair. It was the year the Americas entered the Great World’s War. It was the year I entered my version of the Freedom Formula in the August G. Hanover Elementary School Science Olympics. A big year all around…”

      Mikah nodded. It was the polite thing to do.

      “That summer, my parents had taken me to the World’s Fair. Flying cars. Jet packs. Ovens that cooked your food in seconds. Devices you could hold in your hand that would allow you to talk to anyone, anywhere in the world. Incredible stuff.”

      It sounded neat.

      “But I was always interested in the use of science for good. I never really cared about convenience. A flying car was nice, but if you can walk there or take your bike, then why not do it, right?”

      Mikah disagreed. A jet pack would be sweet.

      “But the Freedom Formula. That was what caught my eye.”

      Mikah had heard of it. But he knew next to nothing about it, other than a name.

      “That was where Heartland came from. He was a soldier. Decorated for valor. Winner of the Platinum Medal for Exceptional Heroism. He was there. I got this close to him.”

      Doc had pointed to an imaginary person a few feet away. He paused at the memory.

      “He was my hero. He’d just received the Freedom Formula. He was going to fight the New Reich on the other side of the world. He was talking about how science must be used for good.” The smile was even bigger now.

      “Science for good…” he sipped the tea.

      “After that day, Heartland went off to the war. I followed his adventures from a distance. I remember going to the movies three times a week to watch the update reel before the film, just to see footage from the front lines, to get an idea of what Heartland was doing. Sometimes, they actually had footage of him punching Reichers and diving out of airplanes.” This was a different smile, “they actually had footage of him fighting Simian Prime. Incredible. I remember him fighting that big ape… uppercut, uppercut, jab and haymaker.” Here Doc pantomimed the fight, smiling the whole time. He paused in memory.

      “When I wasn’t at the movies, I was working on my science project. I was going to recreate the Freedom Formula… in third grade… I was quite the precocious child.” Doc Stalwart was still smiling that different smile.

      “I tried my formula on some rats. They grew. And grew. I mean, they were huge. It was a success… the morning of the science fair, I had grown so confident that I decided to use the formula on myself instead of the rats. They ended up released in the sewers. I ended up as the only third grader who was too wide-shouldered to get on the bus that day.”

      “Within a week, I had been taken away, and was working at the facilities that would become the genesis for the Citadel of Tomorrow…” he licked his lips, “and my hero would disappear forever. He was declared Missing in Action on a mission about five years after the war ended. It’s been twenty-five years since then. And I’ve always wondered...”

      Doc Stalwart was now playing with the coin, which was still in its plastic protective bag. “This was his. Heartland’s. He earned it during the war. I want you to tell me if you can get anything from it.”

      Mikah’s hands were sweating again.

      “I’d like you to try. Could you do that, son?”

      Mikah nodded. Doc Stalwart gently opened the bag, letting the coin slip into Mikah’s palm. Mikah closed his fingers into a fist and set his other open hand over it. He closed his eyes.

      The familiar sensation came over him. It was like diving into murky water. He was surrounded by things, but he couldn’t see anything clearly. “I need something to look for. Something specific…”

      “His shield,” Doc answered, “Heartland always had his shield…”

      In the murky water, something shimmered. Mikah could feel himself swimming towards it, diving towards the object. There it was, buried in the mud. The Shield of Heartland. His hand reached out for it…

      Mikah’s eyes opened. “Let me see the map.”

      Doc Stalwart opened the folder and pulled out the map. He unfolded it, and Mikah found what he was looking for immediately: a small island in the South Pacific, barely a mark on the map. “Here. There’s a ruined temple in the jungle. It’s there. The shield. Everything you are looking for.”

      “I’ll be…” Doc Stalwart shook his head. He patted Mikah on the shoulder. “I suppose we have our mission. Wheels up in fifteen minutes.”

***

The Beetle gliding over the surface of the ocean made a sound like a knife cutting through paper. This had gone on for the last several hours. The display kept pinging, showing their progress towards the island. They were within a hundred miles.

      And then Mikah felt a flash of something. “Can I see that coin again?”

      Doc, who had been quietly piloting for the better part of the day, studied him. He nodded. Mikah went to the small compartment on the console in which Doc had deposited the coin. He drew it out and again focused. Now, the images were crisp.

      “I see a tribe of albino men. There is one man… he has Heartland’s shield. He’s the leader of the tribe…”

      Doc whistled in appreciation.

      “And there’s a big giant ape.”

      “Hmmm,” Doc mused, “when you say ‘big giant’, how big do you mean?”

      “Um. How tall is a coconut tree?”

      “Well, the larger ones can grow to about 30 feet in this part of the world.”

      “Oh. He’s like 30 feet then.”

      Doc whistled. More appreciation, “That’s a big boy.”

***

Everything about the jungle was thick and soupy. The ground, the air, the foliage. All of it was heavy and wet. In places where they dipped into the lower crossings of the jungle, the edges of everything blended with the thick mist and warm, heavy damp. The ground was squishy.

      They had set the Beetle down on the eastern coastline and had been cutting their way across the island for the last two hours. Doc took the lead, striding through the foliage, with Jynx perched on his shoulder. Behind him, Zirah cut through the foliage that Doc didn’t trample, clearing a path for herself and Mikah, who was bringing up the rear. They had decided to approach the temple proper from the ground. A distance scan of the temple had revealed a great deal of technology; they didn’t relish the idea of having to ward off surface-to-air missiles or laser-guided rockets.

      For the first part of their trek, Mikah didn’t notice that Zirah made no sound. Not her footfalls. Not her sword. Not the foliage she cut. At first he didn’t notice, but then he couldn’t stop noticing how weird it was. Nothing she did made any sound at all. She left no trail of her passage, either. He couldn’t see even one bent leaf or mark a single footprint. It was almost like she wasn’t even--

      “There…” Doc had stopped, looking up. Between the canopy of trees, Mikah could make out the top of a huge, tiered pyramidal temple, “hope you are up for some climbing…”

      After an hour of circling and climbing the temple, it turned out that the only way to enter was through a trapdoor in its roof. Doc had forced this open easily enough, and he shimmied down a few hundred feet of rope with the group on his back. The entire pyramid was hollow.

      They touched down in a huge chamber. Light came in sharp lines at odd angles, winnowing through gaps in the stone in a dozen places. Although this was once some sort of technological nerve center, it had long been conquered by vines. These were everywhere, wrapping around machinery and covering up control panels. Thick leaves hung from the angled walls, reclaiming every inch of available space. The various consoles, and their accompanying legions of vines, stretched for hundreds of feet in every direction, disappearing into darkness. 

      “Hmmm,” Doc Stalwart mused, looking around the area, “this is familiar…”

      Instinctively, Mikah put a palm on one of the machines. Immediately, he had a flood of images. Men in grey military garb. Electrical lights and mechanical sounds. Screaming. Blood.

      “Monkeys,” he said aloud, “lots of monkeys. One of them is…”

      “Simian Prime.” Doc answered in the most serious tone Mikah had yet heard him use, “this was from the reel. That’s what I saw. It was archival footage of Heartland here, in this place… battling Simian Prime.”

      And now, Jynx emitted something like a cry or a chirp, bounding from the console he’d been exploring. He leapt at Mikah. At his face. Mikah was only somewhat surprised; he expected that at some point Jynx was going to try and eat his face. It was only a matter of time.

      But instead of sinking its teeth into his nose, Jynx flattened itself on Mikah’s chest and pushed his head to the side with one of its claws. Mikah saw something wooden shatter against the control panel he’d just been standing near.

      Looking around, he saw this happening throughout the chamber. Wood was shattering against control consoles and inert technological devices. Wood was flying out of the darkness.

      No. It wasn’t just wood. It was spears.

      A volley of spears hit Doc Stalwart, splintering against his chest, shoulders, and even his head. He glanced northward with interest, but not pain. Zirah looked like she was dancing. She had evaded two spears, using her sword to beat away three others in what looked like one motion.

      Doc reached down and grabbed a huge root, maybe two feet wide, and unearthed it in one mighty yank. He had maybe fifty feet of it in hand and was starting to spin it like a whip.

      Two dozen pale men clad in rags and brandishing spears had stepped into view, and they were preparing for a second volley. With one swipe of the root, Doc tripped most of these men, sending them careening like bowling pins. Zirah bounded across the chamber, moving towards the center of the remaining men. She took a great swing of her sword in an overhead arc.

      The man at the center, who was larger and more elaborately decorated than the others, blocked her attack with a shield. It was covered in filth and had been painted over, but it was unmistakable. This was the shield of Heartland.

      “Stop!” Doc Stalwart bellowed, cowing all within the chamber into instant submission by the authority he carried, “That shield…”

      The man, who was as pale as the others, with pink eyes and white hair, a prolific beard and bare feet, barked at him in some unknown tongue.

      To Mikah’s surprise, Doc barked back. Mikah had now sat up, watching from maybe twenty feet away. Jynx had left him, moving into the shadows to either prepare a sneak attack or hide from danger. Mikah wasn’t sure about that little imp yet.

      The banter between Doc and the leader went on for several minutes. The exchange sounded hostile, as the language itself was decidedly cutting. This was the type of tribe that had ten words for kill and only one for help. For all Mikah knew, this could have been a friendly greeting to these savage men.

      After a series of exchanges, Doc and this man did something that looked like shaking hands. Doc came over to his friends and pulled them together in a huddle.

      “They have lived in tunnels below ground for hundreds of generations. This island has been invaded by outside forces many times. Explorers. Pirates. Raiders. The New Reich during the Great War… each time, these men have driven them away, often at great cost.”

      “The last group had been Simian Prime and his minions. They were sent away, but they left behind their greatest warrior… a huge ape that these men call ‘Gorillo’. Gorillo rules the island, keeping the tribe hidden in darkness, confined to their tunnels. Gorillo is the one who killed Heartland, but they recovered his shield from the ape’s lair. I have made a bargain with them. I will defeat Gorillo, and they will give me the shield.”

      Mikah sighed, “you heard me when I said thirty feet, right?”

***