The Pilgrims of Rayne tpa-8

by D. J. MacHale

  There weren’t a lot of knickknacks or personal touches, other than one painting that hung on the wall above the radio. It was an oil painting of a U.S. Civil War battle where the union soldiers were all members of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry Regiment, one of the first black army units in the Civil War. Gunny was really proud of that.

  Standing in that room, I expected to see Gunny walk out of his bedroom with a big smile and a greeting of “Hey there, shorty!” That wasn’t going to happen. The thin coating of dust on everything was a sad reminder that nobody had lived here in a while.

  “Are we ever going to see him again?” Courtney asked somberly, reading my thoughts.

  “I think so,” I answered optimistically. “When this is all over.”

  “So let’s make that happen,” she said, getting down to business. “Can we make this our base while we’re looking for Mark?”

  “That’s the plan,” I said. I walked to Gunny’s tiny kitchen and opened the oven. Inside was a metal cookie tin that looked like a log cabin.

  “Stale cookies?” Courtney said.

  “These cookies don’t get stale, and they are very sweet.” I opened the tin and pulled out a roll of money that was held together by a rubber band.

  Courtney whistled in awe. “Yikes! Didn’t he ever hear of a bank?”

  “He kept this in case of an emergency. I think this qualifies.” I tossed the roll of bills to her. “For food and more clothes and anything else that comes up.”

  Courtney stared at the huge roll of cash nervously. “I think I’d rather have you in charge of this. My palms are already sweating.”

  It was time to tell Courtney of my plan. From what I’d seen, everything was working out the way it had to. Gunny’s apartment was still here and available; money wasn’t a problem; and the people at the hotel remembered me. The hunt for Mark could happen from here. That was the easy part. I led Courtney over to the couch. We sat, facing each other while I scrambled to think of the right words.

  “This looks serious,” she said. “I’d say you’re breaking up with me, but since we’re not even going out I don’t think-“

  “I can’t stay on First Earth,” I said.

  Courtney stared at me, not sure how to react. She laughed. Stopped herself. Gave me a curious look. Laughed again and finally shook her head.

  “We just got here. We have to find Mark.”

  “I know. You need to do it alone.”

  “What?” Courtney jumped up. “No way! Just… no way!”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Don’t be sorry,” she shot back. “Be serious.”

  I took a breath to try and keep my voice calm. It was killing me to do this but I couldn’t see any other way.

  “I am being serious. I can’t stay here because Saint Dane went to Ibara. That’s where I need to be.”

  Courtney paced. I couldn’t tell if she was angry or frightened. Probably both.

  “He wants to beat me, Courtney. He has to beat me. I think that’s just as important to him as taking control of Halla.”

  “Then don’t let him!” Courtney screamed. “He’s luring you there, Bobby, don’t you see that? He wants you to follow him so he can beat you.”

  “You’re right. That’s exactly why I have to go. I don’t think he can control Halla until he beats me, once and for all. But it works both way If we want to stop him, I mean really stop him, forever, I’m going to have to beat him straight up. That’s the only way this can all end.”

  “That’s pretty arrogant, don’t you think?” she sniffed. “I mean, thinking that the future of all existence is only about the two of you.”

  “It’s not,” I countered. “It’s about how we influence events, and the people of the territories and the choices they make.”

  Courtney shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “This has been torturing me from the beginning,” I answered. “On every territory, with every conflict, Saint Dane has challenged me. You’ve read about it all. He always gets me to follow him to his next target. The Travelers have ruined his plans more often than not. The guy is a lot of things, but he’s not an idiot. He could have won every single territory if the Travelers hadn’t stopped him, but we never would have gotten the chance if we didn’t always know where he was going. But he always tells me. Don’t you wonder about that?”

  Courtney plopped down in one of the cushy easy chairs, shooting out a small cloud of dust. “Yeah,” she said, resigned. “I have. Are you saying he really wants to be beaten?”

  “No!” I said quickly. “He wants to win, all right, but winning for him isn’t just about toppling a territory. It’s about beating the Travelers. Beating me. I think the battle here is more complicated than we even realize. It isn’t just about wars or destruction or us trying to make sure the people of a territory have a peaceful way of life. I think it’s more about the way it happens. The decisions people make. The paths they choose.”

  “You’re getting a little cosmic on me,” Courtney said.

  “I know, I’m on shaky ground here, but the more I learn about Saint Dane and the way he thinks, the more I realize he’s trying to prove some kind of point. He talks about the people of the territories being greedy and arrogant and shortsighted. He thinks that whatever horror happens to the territories, the people deserve it.”

  “Because he’s a monster,” Courtney added.

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t see it that way. He thinks he’s giving the people what they want.”

  “Death and destruction and misery?” Courtney asked.

  “I know, it doesn’t really follow. But the point is, he thinks he’s serving a grander purpose. I don’t think it’s as simple as him being some kind of megalomaniac James Bond-type villain who wants to rule the universe, muhahahahaha! In some twisted way, he thinks he’s doing the right thing.”

  “But that’s just it,” Courtney pleaded. “He thinks the right thing is to steer the people of the territories into disaster. How can that possibly be right?”

  “I’m not saying it is. I’m saying that’s how he thinks.”

  Courtney looked around the room, letting my confused logic sink in. “So if Saint Dane is on a quest to prove that his way of running the territories is the right way, and the only way he feels he can do that is by beating the Travelers, then by his way of thinking, the Travelers are the bad guys/’

  Those words hit me hard. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but if my theory was true, then Courtney was right. If Saint Dane thinks he’s trying to save the territories, in his mind the bad guys who must be defeated are the Travelers.

  “That’s not all, Bobby,” Courtney added. “If Saint Dane is trying to prove something, who exactly is he trying to prove it to?”

  I sat forward and rubbed my eyes. I was feeling very tired. “That’s the biggest question of all,” I said softly.

  “It’s coming to an end, Bobby,” Courtney said. “Whatever the Convergence is, it sounds like it’s what this has all been leading up to. I think what Saint Dane did as Andy Mitchell, what he got Mark to do, has broken down the walls between the territories for good. There are dados on Second Earth. There are dados on Third Earth and Quillan.”

  “Dados tried to get onto First Earth,” I reminded her. “For all I know, more are showing up right now.”

  “The destinies of four territories have been altered. It’s sounding like those dominos are being lined up.”

  “I agree,” I said. “That’s why I’ve got to go to Ibara. I hate to say this, but I’m afraid it’s too late to undo what Mark has done. Too many events have been set in motion. A Traveler has joined Saint Dane, remember? Nevva Winter is on his side. She told me on Quillan that she was thinking of taking the place of the Traveler from Ibara. All signs point to Ibara being that first domino that’s going to be tipped.”

  Courtney looked at the floor.

  I continued, “I don’t think we can change the future by trying to re
-alter the past. We’re too far down the road for that. I’ve got to look forward.”

  “So you want to give up on Mark?” she asked.

  “No!” I shouted. “It may be too late to undo the damage he’s done, but we still don’t know why he did it. That’s not about Halla. Or dados. It’s about our friend. According to Patrick’s computer, Mark Dimond disappeared sometime in November 1937. Disappearing is bad. Mark is an innocent victim in all this. If something bad is about to happen to him, we’ve got to try and stop it.”

  Courtney walked over to the couch and sat down next to me. She held my hand and said, “No, I’ve got to try and stop it. You’ve got to go to Ibara.”

  I’m finishing this journal while Courtney is sleeping in Gunny’s bed. I’m lying on his couch, writing. I can’t sleep. My mind is going in too many directions. My plan is to finish this journal and leave it with Courtney. She’ll find a safe place to keep it. From now on, I’ll send my journals to her through the rings.

  Courtney is going to stay on First Earth to track down Mark. If anybody can do it, she can. She’s as much a part of this now as I am. She’s been together with Mark from the beginning. They are a team. Or, they were a team. Though I’m worried about both my friends, this feels right. I’ve made loads of sacrifices since becoming a Traveler in the name of saving Halla from Saint Dane. Now I’m abandoning my two best friends. It’s a hollow, dark feeling. But what else can I do? I honestly believe that there’s nothing we can do about the dados. The real concern here is Mark. Where is he? What happened that he knowingly changed the course of history? Is he okay? I believe that Courtney’s mission here on First Earth is not to try and realign Halla. It’s to save Mark’s life. Knowing that I won’t be here to help is killing me, but it’s a sacrifice I have to make. While Courtney tries to save Mark, I’ve got to try and save Halla. I’ve got to face Saint Dane on Ibara. It’s about him and me. It’s about proving the Travelers aren’t the bad guys.

  I’ve got the same queasy feeling I always have when I’m about to go to a new territory. What will I find? What kind of culture will they have? Will it be modern? Ancient? Civilized? Primitive? Or will I land square in the middle of a society run by robots?

  Anything is possible. There’s only one thing I know for sure.

  Saint Dane is there waiting for me.

  END OF JOURNAL # 28

  Courtney was alone.

  More alone than she had ever been In her life. At least that’s what it felt like to her. Even when she was lying in the hospital after having nearly been killed by Saint Dane, there were people watching out for her. But that was on Second Earth. On First Earth she had no one. Nobody knew she even existed, because technically, she didn’t. She was out of place, out of time, and feeling a little bit out of her mind. She wanted to cry. She wanted to go home in the worst way, but that was impossible because to use the flumes without a Traveler would mean disaster. No, she was stuck. She wanted to lie in Gunny’s bed, pull the covers over her head, and pretend she was at home with her mom and dad.

  Instead she focused on her mission. She didn’t resent Bobby for leaving. She agreed that he had to go to Ibara. But it didn’t stop her from wishing that he was still around. What kept her going was the hope that she would soon find Mark. History said he disappeared and she knew that couldn’t be a good thing. She needed to find him before whatever was going to happen, happened. She even held out hope that in spite of what Bobby thought, finding Mark and learning why he’d done what he did might somehow realter the course of history and put Halla back on track. But there was another reason she had to find Mark. She needed him. She needed her friend. She needed to hold on to him and cry and hear his dumb stutter and be back together with the only person in Halla who had traveled the same road she had. Mark had become her best friend, her support, her confidant. He saved her life. She needed to return the favor. She needed to get Mark back.

  Her first order of business was to get new clothes. She hated the flowery dress from the flume. It didn’t matter what the current cultural standards dictated, girly dresses and Courtney Chetwynde did not go together. After a quick meal in the hotel restaurant of bacon, eggs, potatoes, and orange juice (that cost a whopping thirty-two cents) she went looking for Dodger, the bellhop. She found him at his same post, standing outside the hotel, greeting guests. When Dodger spotted her, his eyes lit up. Courtney wasn’t sure if he was happy to see her, or terrified that she’d start yelling at him again.

  “G’mornin’,” he said cautiously. “Everything okeydokey?”

  “It’s all good,” Courtney answered. “But I need a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  “I need to buy some clothes. Are there any shops nearby?”

  “You kiddin’?” Dodger chuckled. “We got the greatest shops in the world just steps away. Pendragon knows that.”

  Uh-oh. Courtney hadn’t thought of a plausible story about why Bobby was gone.

  “Right, she said, trying to buy time to think. “He went home to Stony Brook. A family thing.”

  Dodger nodded. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Could you tell me where the shops are?”

  “I’ll do better than that. I’ll take you there myself. I got a break comin’ up.”

  “That’s okay. Just tell me where to go.”

  “Tut-tut,” Dodger said, trying to be gallant. “Pendragon and I go way back. I gotta give the red carpet treatment to his sister.”

  “Sister?” Courtney asked a little too quickly. “How do you know Shannon-” Oops, she stopped herself. She’d forgotten about the setup. “Right! Sister. I’m his sister. For a second I thought you meant his other sister, Shannon. Who of course is my sister too. We’re all sisters. And brothers. Bobby is our brother. Right?” She giggled nervously.

  Dodger gave her a strange look. Courtney smiled innocently. A few minutes later they were walking along Fifty-seventh Street headed for the shops on Madison Avenue.

  “Here’s a swell place,” Dodger suggested as they walked by a small boutique with posed mannequins wearing flowered dresses like the one Courtney was wearing.

  Courtney kept walking.

  They came upon another storefront that displayed lacy clothes and large, straw hats with oversize flowers on them. “Lots of gals like this place and-“

  Courtney kept walking. Dodger shrugged and followed. They passed by several other stores that catered to women and girls. Courtney didn’t want anything to do with them.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” Dodger finally asked.

  “I don’t know,” Courtney admitted. “Something less… Barbie.”

  Dodger frowned. “I got no idea what that means, but maybe you should go someplace that’s got a little bit of everything.”

  “Is there a place like that?” Courtney asked.

  Fifteen minutes and a short subway ride later, Courtney stepped up to the entrance of “the World’s Largest Department Store” on Thirty-fourth Street. Macy’s. The same Macy’s she knew from home, that had all sorts of everything, including a parade on Thanksgiving. Dodger didn’t make the trip because his break was over. That was fine by Courtney. He asked too many questions. She felt that he meant well, in an old-fashioned, “I’m a smart guy who knows best how to take care of a helpless little gal” sort of way, but she didn’t need that. Her plan was to avoid Dodger like the plague.

  Walking through Macy’s was an alien experience. It looked nothing like the Macy’s of Second Earth. The clothes were heavy and dark. There was no music. The lighting was dim. The floors were made of wood. Even the escalators had wooden steps. But it was still Macy’s, and Courtney knew she’d find what she needed.

  She walked past the ladies’ and girls’ departments and headed straight to menswear. There, as a perplexed salesman wearing a neat suit with a white carnation in the lapel watched in wonder, Courtney bought two pairs of men’s woolen pants and a few white, cotton shirts. She also bought socks, a pair of brown lea
ther shoes that were much more comfortable than the ones from the flume, and a pair of green striped suspenders to hold the pants up. She found a gray woolen cap with a short, soft brim that was big enough to tuck all of her long brown hair under. Courtney put her hands in her pockets and admired herself in the mirror.

  The salesman scowled. “Halloween was two days ago, young lady.”

  Courtney smiled. “I think I look pretty good.”

  She did. Courtney may have been wearing men’s clothes, but there was no hiding the fact that she was a girl. The final piece was an oversize, dark green turtleneck sweater that she knew she’d need once the weather got cold. Satisfied, she paid the salesman and headed out.

  “What do I do with this?” the salesman called to her. He was holding up the flowered dress that Courtney had worn into the store.

  “I don’t need it anymore,” she said brightly. “Halloween was two days ago.”

  The salesman gave her a disapproving frown and Courtney went on her way. She had one more chore before beginning her search for Mark in earnest. She traveled a route she had taken many times before, in another era. From Thirty-fourth Street in Manhattan she took a subway train to Grand Central Terminal. The ride cost a nickel. From there, she got on a New Haven Line train, headed for her hometown of Stony Brook, Connecticut. The hour-long trip was familiar yet alien. The train wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable as the sleek, shock-absorbed cars of Second Earth. She felt herself bouncing around as if she were on a freight train. There was an incessant squeak and rattle that didn’t seem to bother anybody else but her. The constant bouncing was especially annoying because she was trying to read the newspaper.

  If she had been tracking Mark on Second Earth, her first stop would have been the Internet. On First Earth all she had were newspapers and the occasional radio news broadcast. At Grand Central Station she bought five different daily papers: the New York Advocate, the Manhattan Gazette, the New York Daily Mirror, the New York Post and the New York Times. She quickly searched through every paper, desperate to find a mention of Mark Dimond, Andy Mitchell, the Dimond Alpha Digital Organization, or KEM Limited. Her thinking was that if Mark’s presentation of the Forge technology was so important, it would have to hit the news, even if it was a small blurb.