The Never War

by D. J. MacHale

  I figured I’d better step in and change the direction of this conversation. “We’ll never forget this, Jinx,” I said.

  Jinx looked at her plane. I thought I sensed a bit of sadness in her. “I love to fly,” she said. “Hard to believe it’s all going to end.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I just got word this morning. After this tour, I’m grounded.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I think the brass is afraid something might happen to me,” she said with a hint of anger. “I agreed to do all this public relations stuff so they’d let me fly. Now I’ve become so famous, they’re worried if something happens to me it’ll look bad for everybody. Stupid thing is, they’re probably right. If I crashed, they wouldn’t let another woman in the cockpit for thirty years. Here I thought I was paving the way for women fliers, and all I did was take myself out of the sky.”

  Neither Spader nor I knew what to say. Jinx then put on her big, trademark smile. “But until they yank me outta the cockpit, I’m going up whenever I get the chance. So thanks, you two, for giving me the excuse to go on this little jaunt.”

  We all climbed in a cab and headed back to the hotel. Jinx was her old self again, telling us stories about how she learned to fly, and how she once crash-landed in a pasture in Maine and had to dodge a herd of moose. I really liked her and felt bad that soon she would no longer be able to do the thing she enjoyed so much. I really hoped she would find another way to get back into the air.

  When we got back to the Manhattan Tower Hotel, Spader and I thanked Jinx again and left her at the front curb. We didn’t want to run into any reporters so we ducked into a side entrance. We made it through the kitchen and the dining room and were just about to climb the service stairs to our room, when somebody grabbed both of us by the back of the neck. It was one of Max Rose’s bodyguards.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you two,” he growled. “Mr. Rose would like a word with you.”

  Uh-oh. Was this good news or bad news? Was this going to be another chance to learn about Max Rose and his evil plot with the Nazis? Or was he ticked about me not following his order to shoot the gangster and planning to make us both pay the price? The truth was, it didn’t matter because we didn’t have any choice. We were going to have an audience with Max Rose, whether we liked it or not.

  JOURNAL #10

  FIRST EARTH

  Max Rose’s bodyguard kept a firm hold on both of our jackets and marched us to the elevator like two kittens being carried by the neck. I can’t speak for Spader, but my feet barely skimmed the ground. Dewey rode us up to the penthouse without a word. He didn’t look at any of us. I knew he was thinking about the laundry chute. We hit the thirtieth floor and the bodyguard carried us toward the penthouse. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and pulled away.

  “Enough, all right!” I shouted. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  The guy looked at me with fire in his eyes. He didn’t like being told what to do, especially by a punk bellhop. For a second I thought he was going to punch my lights out, but he held back. I would have bet anything it was because Max Rose wanted us alive and in one piece. This was good. I started to feel like we weren’t being led toward a gangland execution. At least not today, anyway.

  We followed the thug into the penthouse and right to the living room where I had set up lunch for Mr. Rose and Ludwig Zell. Max Rose was there waiting for us. He stood behind a bar, dressed in another silky bathrobe, only this one was deep purple. The bodyguard stood at the door with his arms folded. If we had to make a run for it, we’d have to get through him first. That pretty much meant we weren’t going to be making a run for it.

  “There you are, Buck!” he said with a warm smile. “And we got your sidekick, too. What’s your name? Flash Gordon?”

  “Vo Spader,” answered Spader.

  “Vo?” said Max with surprise. “What kind of name is that?”

  “What kind of name is Rose?” asked Spader. “Isn’t that some kind of flower?”

  I winced. I didn’t think it was a good idea to match wisecracks with a mobster. Max Rose stared at Spader for a moment, then smiled. “You’ve got brass, just like your buddy,” he said. “I like that, Flash.”

  Spader gave me a sideways “Who is Flash?” look. But I ignored him.

  Rose fixed himself a drink. He poured some amber liquid into a crystal glass, then gave it a squirt of bubbly water that he shot out of a bottle with a trigger. I’d seen those babies before. The Three Stooges used them all the time. I never knew people used them for anything other than water fights though.

  The door on the far side of the room opened and in walked Esther Amaden. Actually, “walked” isn’t the right word. She slinked in like a cat. She was wearing another long nightgown with a violet-colored shimmery robe over it. Didn’t these people ever get dressed?

  “You know my associate, Miss Amaden, right?”

  “My friends call me Harlow,” she said as she draped herself on a couch. “You saved Maxie’s life. I think that makes you a friend.”

  “That’s why I wanted to see you boys,” said Rose as he lowered his huge frame into an easy chair. “Harlow’s right. I think you’ve got more guts than most of the knuckleheads who work for me.” He gestured at the bodyguard by the door. The big goon looked down, embarrassed.

  “So I brought you up here to say a proper thank-you,” continued Rose. “And to give you a reward.” This was looking good. Max Rose felt as if he owed us something. We had to be smart about this.

  “We don’t want any reward,” I said. “We did what we had to do.”

  “That’s a good little spaceman, but I’m telling you, you deserve it.”

  “Don’t disappoint him,” Harlow said. “He isn’t always so generous.”

  “You boys name it,” Rose said after gulping down some of his drink. “Within reason, of course. What is it you want? Money? You can’t be making all that much dough working at this hotel. Or a car? I can get you any ride you want. What is it you little Martians would like?”

  This was our chance. It wasn’t about money or cars or any kind of reward. This was about Max Rose feeling as if he owed us something. If we were going to find out more about him and about his connection with the Nazis and Saint Dane, this was the time to do it. I had to come up with something fast.

  “What do you think, Pendragon?” Spader asked. I could tell by the look on his face that we were thinking the same way. He saw the opportunity here too. The question was, how to handle it?

  A thought blasted into my head. It was a dangerous thing to do, but I couldn’t think of anything better in a nanosecond. So my mouth started working before my brain could catch up.

  “I’ll tell you what we want,” I said, trying to sound confident. “We want a piece of the action.”

  Max Rose spit his drink halfway across the room. I swear, he did this huge, wet spit-take. Most of his drink was now on the carpet.

  “You want what?” he shouted.

  “Yeah,” said Spader, sounding pretty nervous. “What exactly is it we want?”

  I had gotten myself into this. It was time to start making it work or we’d never leave this room. Max Rose stood up and went to the bar to fix himself another drink.

  “We hear things, you know,” I said, trying to sound cocky but not disrespectful. “Can’t help it, working in a place like this.”

  “Yeah? What is it you hear?” said Rose. He was annoyed. I was going to have to talk our way out of this…or into it. Either way, I had to talk fast.

  “We hear you’re in for a pretty big score, maybe in a couple of days.”

  Max Rose shot me a look, going from annoyed to angry. I was pushing too hard.

  “I’m not saying we want a part of that or anything,” I assured him. “We don’t deserve nothing like that. I’m just saying we want to be part of your operation. You know, like maybe help you out with whatever it is you got going on.”

  Max Rose
poured his drink and squirted more fizzy water. I could tell he was thinking about what I had said. The question was, what was he thinking? The answer would probably mean the difference between life and death for Spader and me.

  “What did you hear about this score I got coming up?” he asked.

  I shrugged. I had to keep up the tough-guy act or he’d eat me alive. “Not much,” I said. “Just that there’s some big payoff coming in for something you did, and that there might be more where that came from. A lot more.”

  I didn’t want him to know we knew about Ludwig Zell and his connection with the Nazis. That would put us dangerously close to the category of knowing too much. Rose looked at me. I felt like he was deciding whether to keep up the conversation or grab his gun and shoot me. I really hoped he was feeling talkative.

  “That’s all you know?” he asked.

  “That’s it,” I said. “But you’re the smartest, best-connected guy we’ve ever met. It would be an honor to work for you.” I figured throwing in a little butter couldn’t hurt.

  “So that’s it,” Max Rose said. “You want a job.”

  “That’s it,” I answered confidently.

  “Why should I trust you two?” he asked. “You’re nothing but snot-nosed kids.”

  “With respect, mate,” said Spader. “We’re snot-nosed kids who saved your life.”

  Max glanced over to Harlow. Harlow raised an eyebrow. “They’ve got more smarts than any of the clods you got on the payroll now,” she said. “Maybe you should give ’em a small job to start. You know, as a test.”

  Rose looked at Harlow with a mischievous little gleam. “You got something in mind?” he asked her.

  Harlow stood up and slinked over to us. She walked around us, sizing us up like a cat plays with a mouse. Of course, right after a cat does that it usually kills and eats the mouse.

  “Why don’t you send these boys down to see Farrow,” she said slyly.

  “What for?” Rose asked.

  “To give him a message,” was the answer. “Have them tell Farrow to lay off. You’ll give him a pass for sending his hitman up here, but only if he lays low for a couple of days. Let him know that if he doesn’t back off, you’ll come down on him, hard. If he listens, you won’t have to worry about him until after your score comes in.”

  “And if he doesn’t listen?” Rose asked.

  “Then you’ll know you’ve got to take care of business,” Harlow answered. “His business.”

  Wow. Harlow may have been beautiful and talented, but she had some cold blood running through her. She liked playing dangerous games. Trouble is, I didn’t. There was no way I wanted to go meet this Winn Farrow dude. From what everybody said, he was a psycho and more dangerous than Max Rose.

  “I don’t get it,” I said, trying not to sound chicken. “I thought we proved ourselves last night?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” answered Rose. “But you turned yellow, Buck. You didn’t shoot when I told you to. If somebody’s gonna work for me, I gotta know they got the guts to do what I tell ’em, when I tell ’em, no matter how ugly it is.”

  Harlow walked behind Rose and played with his hair while he spoke.

  “I got enemies,” he said. “Hard to believe since I’m such a sweet guy, but it’s true. That gunman last night, I know him. He works for a competitor of mine.”

  “We know. Winn Farrow,” I said. “Your old partner.”

  Rose looked up at Harlow. “I told you these boys were smart,” she said.

  “Yeah, Winn Farrow,” said Rose. “I have no beef with the man. He’s got his business, I got mine. But lately he’s been getting a little, I don’t know, jealous. You’re right. I got a big score coming in. I don’t want Farrow doing anything to mess that up. So here’s what I want you to do. Go see my old friend and tell him to back off. That’s it. Just tell him to back off. Tell him I’m mad, and by all rights I should hit him back for what he did. Hard. But for old times’ sake, I won’t. But if he doesn’t mind his own business, then I’ll come down there and put a hurt on him like he’s never seen before.”

  “That’s it?” asked Spader. “All you want us to do is deliver that message?”

  “That’s it,” answered Rose. “Do that for me, and you’re in.”

  “He’ll kill us,” was all I could say.

  Rose laughed. “I figure one of two things will happen. Either you boys make it back in one piece and I’ll know I won’t have any problems from Farrow, or you’ll come back in a bunch of little pieces, and I’ll have a war on my hands.” He then broke into a grin that can only be described as evil. “So, how bad do you two still want a piece of my action?”

  Gulp. I knew the answer to that. We were going to have to accept Rose’s offer. But that meant we would have to meet Winn Farrow and his gang of cutthroats. These were the guys who tried to kill Max Rose. These were the guys who tried to kill us. These were the guys who Saint Dane had taken to the flume and used to kill Uncle Press. As suicidal as this mission was, we had to go.

  At least we were getting closer to the truth. I had no doubt in my mind that when we met Winn Farrow and his gang, we’d find Saint Dane. I just hoped we’d stay alive long enough to do something about it.

  JOURNAL #10

  FIRST EARTH

  “You’re going to what?” shouted Gunny with horror.

  “We’re going to deliver a message from Max Rose to Winn Farrow,” I said.

  Spader added, “And that’s going to get us in good with Rose so we can find out about the natty-do he’s cooking up with the Nazi wogglies. It’s perfect.”

  “It’s not perfect,” Gunny said nervously as he paced the floor of our hotel room. “First off, you’re not delivering a message, you’re delivering a warning. Winn Farrow doesn’t take kindly to warnings.”

  “But we’re just the messengers,” I said.

  “That’s even worse, shorty,” Gunny shot back. “He tried to kill Max Rose. Do you think he’d bat an eye over bumping off two messenger kids? No, sir. You boys can’t do this.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, Gunny,” I said. “But May sixth is tomorrow! We’re running out of time.”

  “This is what we do,” Spader added. “It’s what being a Traveler is all about.”

  Gunny stopped pacing and looked at the two of us. Like it or not, what Spader said was true. This was what we were there for. To chicken out and hide wasn’t an option. I wished it were an option, but it wasn’t.

  “Then I’m going with you,” Gunny announced.

  “You can’t,” I said. “If something happens to us, you’re the only one who knows what’s going on.”

  “He’s right, mate,” Spader said. “You’d have to push on without us.”

  This was the last thing Gunny wanted to hear.

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Gunny said softly.

  It didn’t do much for me, either, but it was the truth. “It’s not going to come to that,” I said with more confidence than I actually felt. “We’re going to go down there, give him the message, and get out.”

  “And what happens if you run into Saint Dane?” Gunny asked.

  “I’m counting on it,” said Spader with conviction.

  I didn’t like the way Spader said that. The simple mention of Saint Dane’s name always cast a dark shadow over his normally bright personality. Our best hope of pulling this off was to keep our heads on straight and be smart. If Spader lost it and went after Saint Dane, well, then Gunny would probably end up being on his own after all. I couldn’t let that happen, mostly because I didn’t want to end up on the front page of the newspaper under the headline TWO BELLBOYS RUBBED OUT IN GRISLY MOB SLAYING.

  “I’m not going to argue with you anymore,” Gunny finally said, sounding tired. “You boys have had more experience with this Traveler business than I have. But I know about Winn Farrow and how he operates. I promise you, the man isn’t right.”

  “We know,” I said. “We’ll be careful.”
<
br />   I really, really hoped that “careful” was going to cut it.

  Twenty minutes later we were in a taxicab, headed downtown to meet the infamous Winn Farrow.

  I have to admit, I was having second thoughts. What if Winn Farrow was as nutzoid-vicious as everybody said? He might start shooting before we even got in the door. The more I thought about it, the more I worried that we had gotten a little bit too cocky.

  Spader must have sensed my tension because he gave me a friendly shove.

  “It’s gonna be fine, mate,” he said, actually sounding oddly cheery. “We’re the good guys. We can’t lose.”

  I wished that were true.

  “Besides,” he added, “nothing’s gonna happen to you so long as I’m around.”

  “How do you figure that?” I asked.

  Spader didn’t answer right away. I think he was trying to find the right words. When he next spoke, it was with a serious tone I hadn’t often heard from him. I’d seen him blind with rage at Saint Dane. I’d also seen him devastated by the death of his father and the disappearance of his mother. But this was different. This was a thoughtful, sincere side of Spader that I hadn’t known existed.

  “I may not know much about being a Traveler,” he said. “But from what I’ve seen, the key to this whole thing is you, Pendragon.”

  That took me by surprise. “We’re all in this together,” I said quickly.

  “True, but you’re the one keeping us together. I think we’re all playing our parts, but I’ve got no doubt, the most important piece to this natty puzzle is you, mate. If anything happens to you, I’m afraid the show would be over. I won’t let that happen.”

  I didn’t know how to react. Though I was slowly starting to accept the fact that I was a Traveler, I wasn’t ready to take on the responsibility of being some kind of ringleader. It was tough enough just trying to figure out why I was chosen to be a Traveler in the first place. I didn’t want to be in charge, no way. The thought of it actually made me a little nauseous.