The Soldiers of Halla

by D. J. MacHale

  Spader took charge. “Relax. Don’t fight. I’ll get you there. I’ll take Loor first, get her set, then make it back right quick for Saangi. Pendragon, you follow Saangi and me. The train cars are open. I’ll put Loor behind the engine, then Saangi next. Pendragon you grab onto a car behind Saangi. Can you take my weapon?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Then all you have to do is hold on. I’ll make this a snappy-do. No worries.”

  Loor continued to stare at the water, psyching herself up. She clutched her wooden stave so hard I saw her knuckles go white. For a second I thought she wouldn’t be able to overcome her fear and bring herself to dive into the dark.

  Silly me.

  Loor took two deep breaths and said, “Now!”

  Spader didn’t waste a second. He took Loor’s hand and the two dropped down underwater. She did as she was told. She relaxed. At least, she relaxed her body. Her mind had to have been in hyperdrive. Spader kicked off from the stairs, pulling the warrior girl down. She trailed behind him, clutching her stave. A moment later they were gone.

  I put my hand on Saangi’s arm. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  Saangi nodded quickly. I sensed she was just as scared as Loor. She stared down at the water. No more than twenty seconds had gone by when Spader popped his head back up.

  “Snappy-do,” he announced. “Next!”

  Saangi held out her hand, took his, and dropped below the surface. It was my turn. I had been so worried about Loor and Saangi that I didn’t think too much about how scary it was going to be for me, too. But there was no time to waste working up my nerve. I had to go right away. I held the two wooden staves in my left hand, against my body. I figured I’d need my stronger, right arm for pulling. After two deep breaths, I held the third and dove below. It was cold. That’s what hit me first. It was dark, too. It wasn’t easy to see underwater anyway, but the dark made it nearly impossible. I was really wishing for an air globe from Cloral. Or at least goggles from home. Anything. All I could do was follow the vague shadow of Spader and Saangi as they swam in front of me.

  The descent was quick. I had only been swimming for a few seconds when I saw the dark outline of the small train. I remembered it very well. It reminded me of the kind of small train you’d ride in an amusement park. There were three cars behind an engine. It had been used to transport the Rokador through the tunnels and to move equipment. Through the murky water I could see Loor clutching to a handrail in the first car. Spader was moving Saangi into position in the second car. I took my place in the third. Once Saangi was set, Spader took a quick look back to make sure I was with them. I gave him an “okay” sign. That’s what scuba divers did on Second Earth. I assumed it was universal. It must have been, because Spader was satisfied and quickly shot forward for the engine. A second later the train lurched, and we were on our way.

  The little train moved quickly, even though it was working against the water that surrounded us. It couldn’t have been better. We were moving. My lungs felt good. I figured we’d be underwater for another thirty seconds or so. That wasn’t too bad. After about ten seconds I felt certain that we would make it with no trouble.

  I was wrong.

  Without warning the train stopped dead. I looked ahead, wondering what had gone wrong. Had Spader hit the wrong switch and stopped us by accident? Was something in our way? I willed the train to move. Five seconds went by. Ten seconds. The realization hit that if we were able to move, we would have. Something had gone wrong. We were halfway between stops and going nowhere.

  This had suddenly turned out to be a very bad idea.

  JOURNAL #37

  18

  My first instinct was to panic.

  I kept hoping the little train would start moving again. For some reason that old kid’s book came to mind. “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.” Well, in this case, the little engine couldn’t. This was no fairy tale.

  I felt a hand grab my shoulder. It was Spader. He motioned furiously for me to start swimming, then yanked me forward until I was next to Saangi. His intent was clear. I not only had to swim myself out of this, I was going to have to bring Saangi along with me. He left us and shot forward to go for Loor.

  I dropped the two weapons. There was no way I could tow Saangi while holding them. I had to focus and stay calm. Saangi wasn’t a Traveler. She didn’t have the option of leaving the territory. Or being reborn. I had to get her to safety. My old junior lifeguard training kicked in, and I quickly flipped Saangi over and crossed my right arm over her chest and under her armpit. Focusing on saving her was a good thing. It kept my mind off the fact that I had to save myself, too. To her credit, she didn’t panic or fight against me. Within seconds we were moving. But how much farther did we have to go? I figured that Spader knew, which is why he made the choice to go forward instead of back. That meant we were more than halfway there. I didn’t know how long we had been holding our breaths. One minute maybe? That’s a long time, especially when your heart is racing and you’re burning oxygen. It didn’t help that I had to pull Saangi along. It meant I couldn’t go all that fast and had to burn even more oxygen. It wasn’t like we had a choice.

  It was hard to tell how far we had traveled. It was too dark and there was nothing to see but nothing. The cave walls had no detail, and it was all blurry anyway. I kept glancing forward to see Spader, but he was a better swimmer than I was, and he was soon out of sight. That’s when I started to panic. My lungs were screaming. I kept pulling forward, but I couldn’t tell how fast I was going. I glanced up, hoping to see light, but there was nothing but black. I wondered what it was going to feel like to die.

  I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. Spader was back.

  He grabbed the arm that I had been stroking with and started pulling. It felt as if we were tied to an engine, that’s how strong a swimmer Spader was. I relaxed, letting him do the work. With my other arm I held tight to Saangi. We were going to make it. I could only hope that Saangi was still alive.

  Seconds later I heard splashing. Spader had broken the surface. He let me go and grabbed Saangi, pulling her forward. I rolled over onto my back to see that we had barely emerged from the tunnel. The sandstone ceiling soared overhead. I rolled back onto my belly and saw that the water spread out to either side of us. Up ahead, rising from the water, was the train track, which meant the water grew shallow. Beyond that was a large, underground cavern that was filled with several other small trains like the one we’d just ridden in on.

  Or maybe I should say, like the one that had died underwater.

  My feet hit bottom. I walked the rest of the way, gasping for air. Spader pulled Saangi up onto the sandy floor, where Loor was on her knees, waiting, breathing hard. She was okay. Was Saangi? Spader sat her up, holding her chin with his hand. Saangi sat slumped.

  “Breathe,” he ordered. It didn’t sound at all like something that would come from Vo Spader. There was no fun in it. No joke. No sly wink. He was dead serious.

  Saangi didn’t breathe.

  Spader quickly laid her down on her back, pulled her chin up to clear her airway, and clamped his mouth over hers to try and resuscitate her. He gave two deep breaths, forcing her lungs to open up. After the second breath he turned Saangi’s face to the side. She still didn’t breathe. Spader repeated the process.

  I had the fleeting thought that as a Traveler I might be able to save her. Didn’t Saint Dane save Courtney from death? It was an agonizing decision. Should I try to save her? But what would that do to the little remaining spirit of Solara? I truly didn’t know what to do.

  Spader stopped breathing into Saangi’s mouth and turned her head again. I knew that if she didn’t respond soon, I would have to make a life or death decision. After an agonizing two seconds…Saangi coughed. Water spurted from her mouth, but she coughed. She was alive. I slumped down onto the sandy floor, spent, and about as relieved as I think I’d ever been in my life. Saangi rolled onto her side, taking deep breaths. As I write thi
s now, knowing what happened, I still can’t say what I would have done if she hadn’t come around. I’m just happy that I didn’t have to find out.

  Spader looked to Loor and softly said, “I’m sorry.”

  Loor shrugged. “Why?”

  “I thought the train would make it back. The water must have killed the engine.”

  Loor gave him a puzzled look. “You did exactly what you said you would do. You got us here. Perhaps you made it seem as if it would be simpler than it turned out to be, but if you did not do that, I am not so sure that Saangi or I would have gone under the water.”

  “I definitely would not have gone!” Saangi said, and coughed again.

  “Do not be sorry, Spader. Pendragon told us to trust you, we did, and now we are here. You are to be congratulated.”

  Spader looked at me, not sure how to react.

  I shrugged. “Don’t look at me.”

  Spader turned back to the Batu warriors and said, “I am really, really happy that we’re on the same side.”

  “I can say the same for you,” Loor replied. That was as close to a compliment as Loor was capable of giving.

  I took a few more breaths to get my head straight, then said, “Okay, that was fun. Now how do we get out?”

  Loor stood and scanned the large train room that was half underwater. “There,” she pointed. “Those stairs lead to a hut just inside the outer wall of Mooraj.”

  “How are you, Saangi?” I asked.

  Loor’s acolyte coughed one more time to clear her airway and stood up.

  “Ready,” she declared.

  Amazing girls. Both of them.

  Loor led us around the rows of parked trains, headed for the archway. I didn’t think there would be any guards around. If they weren’t guarding the hut outside, there would be no reason to guard this side of the tunnel. Still, we moved with caution. We followed Loor up the sandy stairs, moving quietly. With each step the stairwell grew lighter. The tunnel we had come through must have been angled upward, because we weren’t as deep underground as when we had descended the stairs outside of Mooraj.

  I had already forgotten about our harrowing swim. All that mattered was what lay ahead. The exiles. How many would there be? Was Mooraj full of them? Was this some kind of holding camp for the strangers from another territory?

  When we reached the surface, we found ourselves in another small hut made of sandstone. At one time this was probably the work hut for the Rokador who ran the underground railroad. Not anymore. It was abandoned and empty. The four of us crept cautiously up from below and made our way to a window to get our first view of Mooraj. Or maybe I should say, what Mooraj had become.

  There were a lot of ways to describe what we saw. Not all of them were good. Not all of them were bad. There was a feeling of total jubilation…and crushing disappointment. Relief mixed with sadness. There was reason for hope, but that was tempered by anger. I guess you could say that what we saw was a mixed bag of truths. I got all of that with one single look.

  First off, we weren’t looking at a camp filled with exiles. Our search would continue. Still, there was consolation. This camp was filled with other people, which was reason to rejoice. Mooraj had become the home of the Batu tribe. The Ravinians had not committed genocide. They had simply relocated thousands of Batu tribespeople to Mooraj.

  Saangi was in tears. Tears of joy. Loor leaned on her arm against the window. I could feel her relief. Their people were alive. That’s not to say they were in great shape. I believe this was the Zadaa equivalent of the Horizon Compounds on Earth. Mooraj had become an overcrowded, filthy slum. These once-proud people were sentenced to live in squalor. Even from where we were, it was obvious that this place was a nightmare. Kids ran around wearing nothing but rags. Most of the adults sat staring vacantly at nothing. We saw a fight break out between two men. Over what, I didn’t know. It was vicious. The two beat each other bloody, and nobody made a move to stop them. They all sat quietly watching the mayhem with bored detachment. They were like zombies. No Ravinian guards came to stop the fight. That told me there was no order inside Mooraj. The guards kept them inside, but they were on their own when it came to keeping the peace. With that many people living on top of one another, I had to believe that it wasn’t easy. The bigger of the two fighters finally delivered a knockout blow. The little guy fell to the sand, unconscious. The big guy hauled off and kicked him once, then strolled away, leaving the guy to bleed. Nobody helped the poor guy. Nobody cared.

  When they lived in Xhaxhu, the Batu tribe may have been primitive, but they were industrious. They were proud. They had order. Not anymore. Ravinia had stolen their souls. I guess that’s better than being wiped out, but not by much. This was living proof of what Saint Dane had accomplished. On the one hand he had created his superprivileged class of Ravinians. Their arrogance and selfishness fed the dark side of Solara. The same could be said for what was happening in Mooraj. The vicious, dangerous environment also fed the dark side of Solara. His control of Halla was complete. It was painful to see what had become of the Batu, but at least they were alive. Where there’s life, there’s hope.

  But what of the exiles?

  “Stay here,” Loor commanded, back to business. “Saangi and I will learn what we can. There must be a reason why there was talk of exiles. We will find out why.”

  “Can’t we come?” Spader asked innocently.

  Loor gave him a quick look up and down. “These people are victims of the Rokador. You look like a Rokador. If you come, I cannot guarantee that we can protect you.”

  “Enough said,” Spader said quickly, stepping back. “I like it here just fine.”

  Loor and Saangi left the hut to explore this new world, leaving Spader and me to wonder what our next move should be. We sat in the shadows of the hut, hoping none of the Batu prisoners would peek in and see a couple of Rokador-looking guys kicking back. That would bring more trouble than we could handle.

  “This doesn’t mean there aren’t any exiles on Zadaa,” Spader pointed out hopefully. “It just means they’re not here.”

  I was discouraged. “Maybe. But how do we find them?”

  “We will. We have to.”

  The two of us sat quietly, both lost in our own thoughts. After a few minutes I realized that something was off. I sensed a change. What was it? I looked at Spader. He felt it too. He was already sitting up, on alert.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s gotten quiet” was his answer.

  I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner. Mooraj was loaded with people and that created a natural din. That noise was suddenly gone. Alarms went off in my head.

  “This isn’t good,” I said, and stood up.

  No sooner did I get to my feet than we were attacked. A dozen Batu had surrounded the small hut and quietly closed the ring around us. When we jumped up, they jumped in. They flooded in through the door and dove in through the windows, screaming. We didn’t stand a chance. I feared they would tear us apart, so I yelled, “We are not Rokador! We are not Ravinians! We are friends!”

  I don’t know if they believed me or not, but it bought us some time. We were both held by strong-armed Batu who at one time were probably Ghee warriors, because they knew exactly how to handle us.

  “We are here with two Batu warriors,” I called out. “Loor and Saangi. We are friends!”

  That seemed to stop them. Or at least confuse them. I took another chance and said, “We are looking for exiles. Do you know them? Are they here?”

  That got a reaction too. They were definitely confused.

  “We’re friends of the exiles,” Spader added.

  The men exchanged quick looks. Was it possible? Were the exiles living here in this Batu concentration camp after all? I couldn’t breathe. I knew the next few seconds would be critical.

  “Please,” I said. “Loor is our friend. She is looking for the exiles too.”

  One of the Batu guys stepped forward. By the way
he walked I could tell that he was in charge. Or at least as “in charge” as you could be with a bunch of angry, stir-crazy outcasts. He gave us both a long look up and down, sizing us up. He reached out to Spader’s ear, and gave it a twist.

  “Ow!” Spader screamed in pain. “What was that for?”

  “I think he’s checking to see if you’re a dado,” I said.

  “All he had to do was ask,” Spader shot back, indignant. Then to the Batu he said, “I’m real. See?” He opened his mouth and wiggled his tongue, saying, “Ahhhhh.”

  The ear-twister turned and strode from the hut. “Bring them,” he ordered.

  The other Batu instantly obeyed and dragged us out of the hut.

  “This is good, right?” Spader called to me.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. They didn’t kill us. That was victory enough. At least for the time being.

  We were dragged through the dusty, filth-strewn byways of Mooraj. I can’t say that I recognized much from my training there. There were so many Batu lying around that there wasn’t much chance to see any of the structures. Man, there were a lot of people crammed together in this compound. It was a dirty, overcrowded ghetto. It was hell. I didn’t know how long they had been held prisoner there, but any time was too long. Everyone stared at us as we were dragged by. I’m sure they thought we were Rokador captives who were about to pay the price for having sentenced them to such a horrible life. I really hoped that wasn’t the case.

  We were brought to a long, low building that I thought I recognized, but couldn’t be sure. We were quickly dragged inside, and I saw that both walls of this structure were lined with cots. It was the Mooraj hospital. It was a nightmare. The smell alone was enough to make you refuse treatment. There had to have been a hundred cots, all filled with people. Many more were on the floor. The only constant sound was that of people moaning in pain and misery. I guess I should have been repulsed, and I was, but the overriding feeling it gave me was anger. This was what Ravinia brought to those who didn’t live up to their standards. This is what Saint Dane had directed his followers to create. This was what fueled Saint Dane’s version of Solara. Pain, misery, anger. As I looked over the poor victims of Saint Dane’s misguided quest, I wondered if my theory was wrong. Maybe there was such a thing as pure evil.