The four subversives dug into their backpacks with nervous, twitching fingers. They unzipped the vinyl and openedthe lunchboxes fully to allow themselves full range ofmovement. A pair of nitrile gloves was balled up at the bottom of each of their floppy packs. With as little motion as they could manage, they pulled them over their fingers and up to their wrists.
“We’ve done it all,” Honeydew continued, his froggishvoice pinched with the exertion of shouting. “Who made space tourism possible? And who built the Agora District in downtown Bonneville with robot rickshaws, stop signs that give you directions, and tons of brand spanking new jobs?”
“You did,” the crowd chanted. “Ho-ney-dew! Ho-ney-dew!Ho-ney-dew!”
The nerd emperor in the electric blue earthsuit thrust hisgloved hands in the air. “But you didn’t just come here to hear me boast like a proud dad about all the great stuff my ace Substrate employees have done. You want the swag.”
He turned to meet a young woman handing him a T-shirtcannon. One-handed, he aimed the translucent bazooka at oneof the balconies.
The audience whipped toward the target in unison. A smallboy clutching his mother’s neck took the balled-up fabric square in the face.
The crowd leapt to its feet and laughed at the child’smisfortune. With his mother’s prodding, he held up the extra-large Substrate-logoed shirt, his eyes wet with tears.
“God, he almost knocked that kid out,” Liz said to Rose.“Let’s do it now.”
Rose nudged the other two with a surreptitious elbow.Vashti blinked her assent. Barnabas’s lips peeled back to revealcrowded, straight teeth, like little cinderblocks.
Just as they had practiced, they each withdrew from their lunchboxes a tightly packed ball of Substrate TopSoyl. The soft black shreds were speckled with bits of gold and orange andwhite, which adhered nicely into a sphere with the heft and texture of clay.
They waited until the audience simmered and peoplesettled back into their translucent fold-up seats. Then, the foursome shot to their feet. They had one vanishingly slight chance of this thing working, they knew. In a fluid,synchronized motion, they withdrew their hands from their backpacks and loosed their missiles with the full force of their overhand strength.
Vashti’s loose cluster disaggregated into a shower of dampclumps, which fell onto the heads of the audience below. Liz’s struck the railing before her, bisecting the oblong hunk and sending its hemispheres falling lamely into the cup holder of an unlucky patron. Rose, the once all-state women’s softball catcher, splattered the stage with ersatz mud, some of which polluted the faux magma floes with bits of calico grit.
It was a good throw, but this was Barnabas’ golden moment. He unfurled his long, ungainly arm and liberated hisprojectile with impressive force. It whizzed through the air and stayed intact, rocketing toward its mark with a sniper’saccuracy. It caught Honeydew flush in the Substrate insigniapainted on the chest of his earthsuit.
The moment of impact dilated in Liz’s perception. Thesting of her failure to launch gave way to a thrill of glory.Honeydew’s arms splayed out and he let out a guttural grunt.His boyish face contorted into a mask of confusion and fear.The assembled gasped in concert.
“Hell yes!” Barnabas shouted into the momentary silencethat followed.
But his celebration was short-lived. Honeydew’s sentinelswere on the gang within what seemed like seconds. Where they came from was anyone’s guess.
—Excerpt from Honeydew by Ben Zalkind. Published by Radiant Press, 2025. Reprinted with permission. Copyright Ben Zalkind.
Read our interview with Ben here.
About Honeydew:
Rose Gold can’t catch a break. Her latest “golden opportunity” has given way to a madcap adventure through the soft underbelly of Bonneville City. She finds herself cast in the role of renegade mentor and hero to a trio of idealistic young rebels. Together, they perpetrate an act of subversion targeting “future-mover” and celebrity CEO Moses Honeydew, which puts them in the crosshairs of his Substrate Inc.
Along the way, they join forces with family-doctor-by-day and fixer-by-night, Dr. Hansjorg Winteregg, and go on the lam. Meanwhile, there are rumours about Honeydew’s private space station, The Visionary, which may or may not have forced its first passengers into working off their debt. Rose’s boss and his crew go missing. Honeydew announces his plan to take a manned submersible drill to Earth’s mantle to burnish his brand as a fearless and impossibly cool maverick.
With her faithful charges by her side, Rose finds herself at the centre of an unfolding conspiracy. Did she ever truly have a hand on the rudder of fate? And what chance does a quartet of second-rate saboteurs have against a multinational corporation with a vendetta and a trillion-dollar market capitalization?
Bring home Honeydew.
Ben Zalkind lives and works in Calgary, Canada. His debut novel, Honeydew, was released by Radiant Press in October 2025. A Salt Lake City native and naturalized Western Canadian, Ben is happiest outdoors, where he can cycle, drink coffee, and adventure with his wife and fellow traveller.