“Whoa,” Siry gasped. “Where did you learn that?” “Long story,” I said.
It was time to put my Loor skills to work. With the pipe clutched at my side, I crept silently forward, dodging between the mounds of wreckage for cover. The Flighters weren’t exactly a crack security team. The two were in some kind of argument. Over what, I didn’t know or care. The two started shoving each other. It wasn’t violent, just heated.
It was about to get very violent. I was about to drop in.
Their attention was so focused on each other that they didn’t see me creeping toward them. It was perfect, for about ten seconds. I snuck forward and hid behind the final pile of rubble, looking at twenty yards of open ground between me and my quarry. I couldn’t get any closer without being totally exposed. Siry crept up right behind me.
“Once the fight starts,” I whispered to Siry. “Run for the pier.”
He nodded. His eyes were wide and scared, but he was ready.
There was nothing left for me to do but attack. I leaped out from my cover and sprinted toward the Flighters. I was in the open. All they had to do was turn their heads and they’d see me. Luckily, they were focused on each other. I figured I had a good shot at jumping them before they even saw me.
I was wrong.
I was five yards away. The pipe was pulled back, ready to take these guys out, when one of them saw me. The surprise on his face was almost funny. Almost. This was very serious.
“Ahhh!” he screamed, and turned to protect himself.
I went for the guy who turned. I feinted, as if to swing the pipe one way. When he threw his arms up to protect himself, I flashed the pipe the other way… and totally whiffed. The guy ducked and rolled. He was quicker than I thought. Oops. But it was okay. He didn’t jump up to fight. He ran away. I’m serious, he turned and ran. I realized that my back was to the other Flighter, so I spun quickly, ready for his attack. It never came. He was running away too. Both of them sprinted to get the heck away from me. Not exactly dedicated guards. It was the easiest fight I’d had in, well, ever. They were running scared. I figured we had free access to the mysterious warehouse/pier.
I was wrong, again.
One of the Flighters pulled something out of his rotten clothes as he retreated and put it to his mouth. A shrill whistle pierced the air, and my ears. He was sending out an alarm. From one of the buildings a few hundred yards away, doors burst open, and Flighters began pouring out, headed for us. There were so many they reminded me of the quig-spiders on Quillan. We were trapped. The ocean was behind us, the Flighters in front of us. We had to get inside that pier. If there was a ship, there was a slim hope we might be able to get it under way before they reached us. Very slim. We both turned and bolted onto the pier. The floor itself was in way better shape than the pier where we’d first landed. It was cement and solid-a fact that gave me hope there really was something beneath there that they were protecting. That, and the fact that hundreds of Flighters were sprinting closer to keep us away from it.
“How do we get in?” Siry yelled.
I scanned the pier. It was flat. There weren’t any doors or ladders or anything that would be the obvious way to get down below. Suddenly I was beginning to fear we were wrong, and this was pier. A quick glance back showed me the Flighters were getting closer. I was about to suggest that we run to the end of the pier and dive off. Swimming would be our only way to escape.
“There!” Siry shouted, and ran forward.
He’d spotted a three-foot square in the floor that could be a trapdoor. His fingers played across the surface, desperate to find something to grab on to.
“Got it,” he declared.
It was a ring embedded in the surface. He dug his fingers in, lifted the circle up on its hinge, and pulled. The square lifted up. We had our way in, but to what? There wasn’t time to be cautious. Without hesitation Siry dropped his legs into the hole. There was a steel ladder that he used to quickly climb down. I was right after him. Before dropping below, I took a look back to see the Flighters were nearly at the pier. It was hopeless. Even if there was a ship down there, there was no way we’d be able to get under way in time. I closed the trapdoor behind me. I know, it wasn’t much, but slowing them down for even a second might prove critical. Once the door was slammed, I quickly slid down the ladder, eager to see what was below.
Since I began this adventure, I can’t count the number of times I’ve written about how I’d seen something I hadn’t expected. This was one of those times. I think it’s safe to say that it came very close to the top of the list on the surprise scale. What I hoped to see was a ship. Preferably one that Siry could figure out how to get moving quickly. I got my wish… a few thousand times over. What I saw inside that pier, floating on water, wasn’t one ship. Or two or three. I can only guesstimate the number, but I’d say we were looking at a thousand watercraft at least. I say watercraft because these weren’t ships. That’s what the true surprise was.
They were skimmers. From Cloral. Floating side by side were multiple hundreds of the small, sleek watercraft like the aquaneers of Cloral used to fly over the water. This was how Saint Dane would get his dados to Ibara. Each craft could carry a half dozen of them easily. You remember the skimmers, right? They were like oversize Jet Skis with side pontoons for stability. Their bright white hulls made them look like water rockets. They were fast. They could maneuver tight turns, which meant they could dodge the fire from the guns of Ibara. Even if a few were hit, there would be hundreds more behind it.
Looking at the sea of skimmers bobbing on the water was like seeing the last piece in the puzzle that would bring about the destruction of Ibara. There was only one good thing I could say about it. I knew how we were going to get out of there.
Siry was staring out at the small sea of crafts with his mouth open in wonder. There was no time to explain. I could already hear the thundering feet of the Flighters. They were on the pier above our heads, coming our way.
“Let’s go!” I ordered, and started sprinting forward along the long, narrow walkway that ran parallel to the skimmers at water level. We had to get to the front of the pack.
“Pendragon?” Siry called while running behind me. “What are these? Where did they come from?”
“Later!” I screamed.
I heard the creak of the trapdoor opening behind us. Flighters began climbing down the ladder. More trapdoors were yanked open over our heads. Flighters poured down from above. It was going to be close.
In seconds we reached the leading edge of the mass of skimmers. I was happy to see that the end of the pier wasn’t enclosed. Before us was open ocean. The only thing keeping the bobbing skimmers from floating out were several thick chains draped across the opening.
“Get them down!” I screamed to Siry.
I didn’t have to explain. He jumped at the chains and worked to unhook them so we’d have enough space to squeeze out a skimmer. I jumped onto the first skimmer in line. I held my breath. If there was no power, our trip would be over right there. I looked to see the first group of Flighters had landed on the walkway behind us, and they were running forward. I had to stay focused and hope I still knew how to drive a skimmer. One by one I flipped the toggle switches that were lined up on the console. I was rewarded with the high-pitched whining sound of the skimmer coming to life. I wanted to scream, “Yeah!”
Siry was struggling with the chains. If we couldn’t get enough of them down, it wouldn’t matter how much power the skimmer had. We’d be trapped. I toggled the last two switches. The pontoons, which jutted out on either side of the skimmer like wings, began lowering toward the water with a steady hum. They both needed to be in the water for us to have full propulsion, but these skimmers were so jammed in, it looked like they would hit the skimmer to my right and the walkway to my left, stopping their descent. We were going to have to push the craft into open water so they could fully extend, but the chains still kept us back.
“Help!” Siry called i
n frustration.
I jumped off the skimmer to help with the snarl of chain. The Flighters were fifty yards back and closing fast.
“Pull!” I ordered. We both grabbed the chain that ran through a loop attached to the side of the pier. It was heavy. It needed all our combined strength. Together we pulled hand over hand, yanking the chain through the loop as quickly as possible. The metal sang as it zipped through the loop. The Flighters started screaming. I didn’t know what they were saying, but it definitely sounded angry. They were fired up. If they got to us, there was no telling what they’d do.
With one final yank we pulled the chain out of the loop. It fell into the water. The way was clear. Siry jumped onto the walkway and looked back at the Flighters.
“Hurry!” He shouted and boarded the skimmer.
I leaped back aboard. The engines were whining high. The pontoons were pushing down on the walkway and the next skimmer, straining to go lower, but that wouldn’t happen until we moved forward.
“Sit down,” I yelled to Siry.
I grabbed the motorcycle-like handlebar controls and twisted the throttle. Slowly, painfully, we moved forward. We wouldn’t have full power until the ends of the pontoons dipped into the water.
“C’mon, c’mon!” I coaxed. The skimmer wouldn’t listen. We were moving too slowly.
“Pendragon!” Siry called nervously.
I didn’t have to look to know what he meant. The Flighters were almost on us. The ends of the pontoons scraped against the walkway and the next skimmer. Only a few more feet. I feared they’d get caught up on something and not be able to get into the water. That would be the end of it.
The first Flighter arrived. He jumped onto the skimmer, headfirst, and tackled Siry. Siry hit the deck at my feet. I turned, grabbed the grungy little guy, and heaved him over the side. More were on the way. I looked right at Siry, who was lying on his back, staring up at me with wide, fearful eyes.
“Hold on,” I commanded.
He rolled over and grabbed on to the side of the skimmer.
The two pontoons dipped into the water. I grabbed the handlebars and bent my knees.
“Hobey-ho, let’s go,” I said, and twisted the throttle.
The next Flighter leaped onto the skimmer just as we launched. He didn’t stand a chance. No sooner did his feet touch the deck than he was thrown off balance by the force of the skimmer rocketing forward. His stay on board lasted about a second then he fell over backward, into the water.
“Whoaaaaaa!” Siry yelled as the skimmer flew ahead.
We sailed over the water as smoothly and effortlessly as I remembered skimming over the waters of Cloral. I didn’t even look back at the pier and Rubic City. We had jumped the next hurdle. We were on our way back to Ibara.
I’m going to end this journal here, Courtney. I’m finishing it while sitting in the Jakill clearing on Ibara. We made it back, no problem. Okay, maybe there was a little problem. As far as the people of Rayne are concerned, we’re outlaws. We had to find a quiet stretch of rocky beach and land the skimmer without being seen. That was fairly easy, because we didn’t get back until after dark. I’m guessing this was exactly how the various scouting parties of Flighters traveled from Rubic City to Ibara.
The trip was much quicker than on the pirate ship. Skimmers are fast. Part of me didn’t want the people of Rayne to even see the skimmer. I guess I’m still holding by the rules that say territories shouldn’t be mixed. The skimmer represents technology these people shouldn’t know about. I suppose that’s a pretty idiotic concern. Soon they’ll be seeing a whole bunch of skimmers. Siry and I have got to figure out a way to get to the tribunal and warn them about what’s going to happen. It’s the right thing to do, though I have no real hope that the people of Ibara can repel an invasion of dados. Ibara will fall, which means Veelox will fall. Again. There’s only one thing that might prevent that.
Find Mark, Courtney. If you can stop him from introducing Forge technology to First Earth, it might change history back to the way it was meant to be. It might stop the dados from being invented. It might stop the invasion. Might.
I’ve got to figure out what the second turning point of Veelox is. It can’t be the attack of the dados. That doesn’t fit. There has to be something that was naturally going to happen on Veelox that Saint Dane is trying to influence. If I can learn what the turning point is, there might still be hope. Again, might.
I’ll close by saying one more time that I’m sorry, Courtney. I should have stayed on First Earth. My ego brought me to Ibara. To Veelox. I don’t believe Saint Dane even cares about me anymore. We escaped from the Lifelight pyramid a little too easily. Am I finished? Is my value as a Traveler gone? Has Saint Dane beaten me? I can’t accept that. I’ve got to keep fighting, no matter how bleak it looks.
Find Mark. Stop him. I believe it’s our last and best chance.
END OF JOURNAL # 30
The elegant ocean liner Queen Mary was escorted safely through New York Harbor by six small tugboats. Its enormous hull dwarfed the feisty little crafts as they pushed and prodded the floating city past the Statue of Liberty, through the Verrazano Narrows, and into the deep trench of the Atlantic Ocean, where they peeled off and bid the grand liner a farewell as it continued under its own power toward England.
Courtney and Dodger didn’t see any of that. They had found a quiet little restaurant on a lower deck of the ship that had not yet opened for business. Soon the place would be busy with passengers eager to sample the delights of the renowned kitchens. Until then, it was the perfect place to sit quietly and read Bobby’s journal.
Courtney finished first. She left the pages with Dodger and gazed through a round porthole at the ocean. She had never been on an ocean liner and didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t sense any movement at all, only the steady thrum of the ship’s engines. As she looked out on the horizon, she knew what she had to do, but had no clue how to go about it.
“That settles it,” Dodger said with finality. “We made the right move. We should be on this ship.”
“It’s hard to know what to think,” Courtney said wistfully. “I’m not sure what’s right and wrong anymore. Saint Dane has broken down the barriers between the territories, and it’s about to lead to the final destruction of Veelox. But Mark and I interfered with Eelong and it saved that territory! Now I’m on a ship from the past, trying to change the future back to what it was in the first place. It’s all becoming so incredibly… impossible.”
“Becoming?” Dodger asked.
He joined Courtney at the porthole. “All I know is what I read in these journals and what you tell me. I can’t say if it’s okay to monkey with one territory over another. It’s all science fiction to me. But I know the difference between right and wrong. Saint Dane is going to take those dado things and hurt a lot of people. That’s about as wrong as it gets. If we can stop him by stopping Mark, well, we ain’t got a whole lot of choice.”
Courtney looked at Dodger. Her eyes were watery. Dodger didn’t ask why, and even if he had, Courtney wouldn’t have had an answer. The list was too long. “Do you really think we can save Veelox by stopping Mark?”
Dodger chuckled. “I guess it’s possible, but you’re asking the wrong guy. Besides, what else are we gonna do on this tub? Play shuffleboard?”
Courtney laughed in spite of herself. “This is going to be tough. We’re stowaways, but we can’t hide. We’ve got to search the ship.”
“Not a problem,” Dodger said with confidence. “Hiding is the worst thing a stowaway could do. I say we stroll around like we owned the ship. Let people see us. Nobody will know if we’ve got a cabin or not. You’re with the right fella, Courtney. This ship is a floating hotel. I know hotels. We’re going to find Mark. The hard part comes after that.” “What do you mean?”
“We’ve gotta stop him. I can’t help you there.”
Courtney looked back out at the ocean. The biggest question was still not answered. Why had Mark lef
t Second Earth to change history? Until she learned that, she didn’t know how she would convince him to stop.
“We don’t have much time,” Courtney cautioned.
“Nah, we got six days till we dock, plenty of time.”
“But it isn’t,” Courtney said quickly. “History said that a body from the Queen Mary washed up in New Jersey. Maybe it was Mark and maybe it wasn’t, but whoever it was, unless you believe a body could float from the middle of the ocean all the way back to New Jersey, the shooting is going to happen while we’re still close to the United States.”
Dodger whistled in awe. “Hadn’t thought of that.”
“So on top of everything else, we’ve got to solve a murder before it happens,” Courtney concluded.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s get cracking,” Dodger announced enthusiastically. “I say we split up. You search the decks. I’ll bet Mark is out walking around right now. You don’t take a cruise to sit alone in your room.”
“You don’t know Mark,” Courtney cautioned. “He’s probably in his cabin eating carrots and reading.”
“Carrots?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, well, that’s where I come in,” Dodger said confidently. “I’ll get hold of the passenger list and find out what cabin he’s in.” “How?”
“I told you, I know hotels. Trust me.”
Courtney shrugged. Dodger reached out and took off her floppy hat. “You’re a pretty gal. Don’t go trying to look like a boy. Dressed like that you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb.”
Courtney looked down at her woolen pants and sweater. She suddenly wished she had thought ahead enough to have worn one of those creepy dresses she’d seen in the shop windows back in New York.
“I look like one of those immigrants you see in pictures from Ellis Island,” Courtney admitted, discouraged.
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