So this was it. The end of Lincoln. Doomed to crash into the Moon, while the villains rode off into the sunset. Metaphorically, of course. There wasn’t really a sunset on the Moon.
Lincoln crawled towards the viewing screen, the building now so close that he could make out craters. As deaths went, this wasn’t so bad. Better than dirtying a theatre box. In fact, there was a certain dignity to it all, in a way. To die trying to stop the forces of evil. It was a death that would certainly be remembered. Every time kids looked at the large hole in the Moon, they’d say “That was Abe that helped make that”, before their cruel new masters put them back to work in their tin mines. It didn’t have to be tin. Any metal would have done. Copper, possibly. Did you mine copper? Probably.
As he lay there, sprawled out on the many buttons and gizmos that made up the control panels, he reflected on the life he’d led up to this point. Well, lives really, but this newest one had been pretty short in comparison. No, his mind took him back to his first life. He’d accomplished a lot, he reckoned. Lawyer, senator, submarine salesman, president…he hadn’t done too badly, all in all. Oh sure, there were things he would have done differently. Probably would have avoided that whole civil war thing, if possible. And stop his son from dying. And maybe not done so much bear wrestling…oh who was he kidding, more bear wrestling.
Still, when you got right down to it, he’d led a full life, and achieved many things. More than a lot of people would ever do. So surely it was ok to stop now. Surely one little building wouldn’t cause as much damage to the Moon as that nutty fruitcake had implied. It probably wouldn’t do much more than leave a crater. So he could just relax…and die…in peace.
And yet…even with the blood trickling from his wound…even with his vision becoming dark and cloudy…even with his life leaving him…could he give up yet? Did he have the right to give up? While there was still injustice and tyranny to be fought?
No! Lincoln slammed his fist against the floor. He couldn’t let it end this way. While there was still air in his lungs…still blood in his heart (though that was depleting rather rapidly)…still resolve in his spirit, he had to keep on fighting. For truth! For justice! For all that was good and pure in this world, he had to keep up the fight! He hadn’t given up during his country’s darkest hour, and he wasn’t going to give up now.
“I…will…survive!” he shouted with all his strength.
Suddenly, a change came over Lincoln. He felt his heart pumping out pure righteousness through his arteries and veins, strength returning to his legs, a feeling of power and glory surging through his body. He watched as a bullet propelled itself from his chest, the wound knitting itself back together, even restoring the torn fabric of his suit.
He’d felt like this before. Back in WIPE HQ. Right before he’d left to take on the badger people. Right before…of course! It was so obvious! He’d gained them when he was about to free people from being oppressed. He’d lost them when taking on a poor Joe just trying to do his job. It was only when he was fighting for the people that he had them, and if stopping a 3dIM from crashing into the Moon wasn’t the very dictionary definition of fighting for the people, then he was going to have to find a new dictionary.
He stood up, his strength fully restored, as an all mighty aura surrounded him. With a look of determination in his eye, he gave out that mighty cry.
“Lincoln Powers…ACTIVATE!”
A newfound urge of awesomeness coursing through him, Abe smashed his way through the viewing screen and fly to the very tip of the 3dIM. With the might of all that’s right, he threw all his weight against the accelerating building, doing his best to turn back the giant object.
He could feel it slowing down, slower, slower, ever so slightly decreasing in speed by the second. But the Moon wasn’t that far away, and Abe had a lot of work to do. Would he make it in time?
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