Read Atherton #3: The Dark Planet (No. 3) for Free Online Page A

wouldn't rest until he found
    and entered the docking station. He needed to do it to fill the
    hollow feeling he'd so often endured: he was motherless--not
    like an orphan, but truly motherless. And Dr. Harding was dead
    and buried at sea, so Edgar was also fatherless, too. Samuel's
    parents and Dr. Kincaid and Vincent had been kind to him, but it
    wasn't the same. He had a powerful urge to find the Dark Planet
    and discover more about his past. If there was some part of
    himself hidden there--a note, a picture, a drawing--anything that
    would tell him more about the place of his making, he would
    keep on until the treasure was found.
    "I believe I'll stay here," said Dr. Kincaid. "It's an awfully long
    walk. The two of you can scout things out and return with
    news."
    Vincent lifted the rocks from the edges of the paper that lay on
    the table, rolled it back up, and slid it into his belt. He looked
    wearily at Dr. Kincaid and started down the path with Edgar
    close behind. Along the way they spoke of how far Edgar had
    gone down before and what he had encountered.
    "You can't tell Isabel," said Edgar.
    "It makes no difference to me what you tell your friends," said
    Vincent. "I'm only interested in keeping you alive."
    Edgar began telling what he knew, reluctantly at first, but
    quickly became immersed in the telling.
    "There's a lot of paths on the underside of Atherton that lead to
    nowhere."
    "What do you mean?"
    "Everything is shaped like this," said Edgar, holding two fingers
    in the shape of a V. "The paths down the side start wide and
    end narrow. Between the paths there's a glassy sort of orange
    that can't be climbed. It's smooth, like glass, and it's warm.
    There's one path that goes farther than the rest. It's all kind of
    hard to explain."
    "Keep trying," said Vincent, curious but stern. He was
    determined to find out how dangerous it was down there.
    "The farther down the longest path I go the warmer and lighter it
    gets. It's actually easier climbing in the light, and the surface is
    warm but not too hot to touch. The top of the V or path or
    whatever you want to call it is really wide, like a hundred feet. It
    gets narrower as I go and there are wider sections of glassy
    orange. It's like being surrounded by a warm lake of, I don't
    know, I guess like a lake of fire under a thick pane of glass. I
    think it might be too hot to hold at the very end, but I don't know.
    I've never gone all the way."
    "The bridge of fire is all the way at the end, so that's challenge
    number one," Vincent noted. "If it can't be done there's no point
    going down at all."
    "I didn't say it couldn't be done," Edgar said defensively. "I was
    close. I could see the very end. It's only about twenty feet wide
    down there, but there's plenty of room for me."
    "Are there any other obstacles you're not telling me about?"
    asked Vincent suspiciously. "Anything that makes you think
    about the words on the map?"
    Edgar thought of what Dr. Kincaid had said. Below the crack in
    the surface lies the longest shard and the crossing of the bridge
    of burning stone. Beware the keepers of the gate. You must be
    quick and quiet.
    "There are holes," Edgar revealed.
    "What do you mean, holes?" asked Vincent.
    "About halfway down the longest path I start to find holes in the
    stone. I think something is living in them. I hear things."
    "What do you hear?"
    Edgar couldn't describe the sound. He shrugged. "I can stay
    away from them. There's room for me to quietly slip past."
    "I don't know," said Vincent. This new element made him
    nervous. How he wished he could climb as Edgar did and find
    the docking station himself. "You should have told us this
    before. Dr. Kincaid will want to know."
    They were near the crevice at the edge of Atherton and Edgar
    felt the familiar sense of his feet being pulled gently in front of
    him. It was a feeling he had come to love, a silent signal that
    climbing was close at hand. The pull would grow fiercer the
    closer they