The Soldiers of Halla (41 page)

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Authors: D.J. MacHale

BOOK: The Soldiers of Halla
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“You know something,” he said softly. “The memory of our life back at home is the only thing that's kept me going.”

“I know. I think that goes for everybody.”

“I miss it.”

“Me too.”

“Are we going to win this one?” he whispered, so none of the others could hear.

“We have to” was the only answer I could give.

He pulled away from me. His eyes were watery. “We better. I want to go home.”

“I do too,” I said.

It was the first time I had been less than honest with Mark. Of course I wanted to go home. To Second Earth. To Stony Brook. To my old life. But win or lose, that wasn't possible. I wasn't from Second Earth. Not really. I was only a visitor. My life back there had been fabricated. It tore me up to accept that. There was no way I'd say that to Mark. At least, not then. Our friendship meant too much to me.

Patrick joined us. It was time to get going.

“Be alert,” I said to them. “And be ready.”

“Good luck,” Patrick said.

I gave one last look to Patrick, then to Mark, then stepped off the territory to begin the most important mission I'd ever undertaken as a Traveler. I had to convince a multitude of civilians that they had one more battle to fight.

Whether they wanted it or not, they were the final hope for Halla.

JOURNAL #37
36

G
unny met me on the outskirts of the village of Black Water.

He had been waiting for me. That was the plan. In the time Gunny had spent with the gars on Eelong, they had come to trust him. Spader too. But I didn't think it would be smart to bring Spader along on this diplomatic mission. This wasn't the time for enthusiasm and “Hobey! Let's go get 'em!” We needed a steady, guiding hand if we were to convince the exiles to come on board. Gunny was that guy. He sat on a rock, overlooking the village, waiting.

“How'd it go, shorty?” Gunny said as casually as if he were asking about the weather.

“Mark and his people are with us. Patrick will let us know if things start happening on Third Earth.”

Gunny shook his head. He looked tired. “Such a thing,” he said wistfully, as he gazed down at the village of Black Water. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. “This all just keeps getting more complicated.”

Gunny was the oldest Traveler. He'd seen so much more in his life than the rest of us. His
real
life, that is. As tough
as it was to accept the fact that we all originally came from Solara, it must have been the hardest on Gunny. He had lived pretty close to a full life on Earth before learning he was a Traveler. He had a different perspective than most of the rest of us.

“You okay, Gunny?” I asked. “I mean, we've been hit with a lot of things lately.”

“You know, shorty, I'm near sixty-five years old. At least, I think I am. I've kind of lost track of the years. I seen a lot of things, even before I learned about the Travelers. It's not easy for an old duffer like me to accept new things, and I'm not so sure I would have believed this business about us being spirits from some other dimension, 'cept for one thing.”

“What's that?”

Gunny held his hands up. Both of them. I don't know why I hadn't noticed before, but Gunny had two hands again. I blinked. How could that have happened? His left hand had been chewed off by a tang on Eelong years before. Now it was back, as good as new. He flexed it and made a fist to show me how real it was.

“How?” was all I could get out.

“Don't really know” was his answer. “When Spader and I got swept out of here, wouldn't you know it, but my old hand came right along with me. Like nothin' ever happened. I guess I should be happy about it, and I am. But what it tells me, more than anything, is that we really aren't natural to Earth. We're made-up beings, and that's why those spirit folks were able to make me up a new hand. Heck of a thing.”

“But a good thing, right?”

“Sure, 'cept it makes me a might sad. I liked the life I was living.”

“I hear you.”

“Makes me realize something else, too. I was poor most of my life. Had to teach myself to read and write. Never wore a single piece of clothing that didn't first belong to somebody else, till I joined the army. But I made something of myself. I was the bell captain of the Manhattan Tower Hotel and proud of it. I might not have been setting the world on fire, but I was good at what I did. People appreciated it, and I was happy.”

“Can't ask for much more than that.”

“My point exactly. Thing is, a guy like me wouldn't make it in this new setup. There's no room for regular folks in this world of Ravinia. There's the few people who have it all, and everybody else. There's always been those who have more than others, but now, the regular folks don't even have the chance to build a life they can be proud of. With all the philosophizing and theorizing and threats and highfalutin goals, it all comes down to one thing: Saint Dane is killing the chance for people to be happy.”

Gunny had pretty much summed up what this was all about. Saint Dane was taking away the chance for people to be happy. It sounds so simple, but being happy is probably the number one goal for everyone, no matter what world they come from. Talk about basic rights. What was that phrase from the Declaration of Independence? Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? Except for a chosen few, Saint Dane was taking away those rights. It took a sixty-five-year-old guy who had lived most of his life not knowing anything about Travelers or Halla or guiding spirits to put it into such clear perspective.

“And that's why I'm glad you're here right now,” I said to my friend. “You and I have to convince those people down
there that this is their chance to take back those rights and have another shot at being happy.”

Gunny took a deep breath and stood up. His energy was renewed. “Then let's get it done,” he declared.

It wasn't long before Gunny and I were sitting in the chambers of the gar leaders in the dead center of the ring of buildings that made up the village of Black Water. It wasn't hard to get an audience. Aron was still one of the village elders. Most of the others remembered Gunny and were grateful for all he had done to help educate the gars while he was trapped there with Spader. Some of them remembered me, too. We were friends. We were trusted.

Also in the meeting were ten leaders of the Yanks. Years before, they had divided the group up into ten distinct units, to help manage and organize their lives. Each group elected a leader that reported to the gar elders. The liaison between the gars and the Yank leaders was none other than Courtney. She was in the meeting too. Courtney had a foot in both camps. She knew Black Water, and she was from Second Earth. She could speak intelligently to both groups. It seemed to be a pretty smart way to quickly organize a village that had suddenly tripled in size. The proof was not only in the fact that the village ran smoothly, but also that they were able to work together and organize a solid defense against the klees. Everybody was feeling pretty good about themselves.

I hated to have to burst their bubble.

I won't detail all the arguments we put before the group. I've already written most of them earlier in this journal. Bottom line was that Gunny and I tried to impress upon them that they may have defeated the klees once, but they'd be back again. And again. More important than that, we
warned them that an attack was coming that was far more threatening than anything the klees could throw at them. We warned them that an army like they had never seen was preparing to march on Black Water with the single goal of wiping out the Yanks. The gars weren't necessarily the target, but with the kind of attack that was being planned, it would be wrong to believe the gars would be spared.

“The question isn't
if
the attack will come,” I said. “It's
when
. I believe it's going to be soon.”

Both the gar leaders and the exile leaders exchanged uneasy looks. It was a lot to accept.

“What is your proposal, Pendragon?” Aron asked.

I outlined the bare bones of our plan. I knew it wouldn't be an easy sell. It not only involved getting multiple thousands of people to jump into a flume—again—but when they reached the other side, they would be faced with a seemingly unbeatable foe. How unbeatable depended on a number of things, none of which we had control over. As I said the words out loud, and listened to myself speak, the whole idea sounded impossible. Maybe even insane. What was I thinking? The more I spoke, the more I realized that these people wouldn't go for it in a million years. Heck, if I were in their position, I wouldn't go for it either. It was suicide. I finished on a whimper, ready to get tossed out of there.

Before anyone had a chance to respond, Gunny stood up. “I can only imagine what you're thinking,” he began. “Believe me, we feel the same way. The odds we face are long indeed. There is no guarantee of victory. People will die. Perhaps by the thousands. To that, I have two things to say. You are faced with a dire situation. Black Water will come under attack again. Soon. By a force much larger and
more deadly than you have just defeated. Your weapons may stop some of theirs, but the numbers are not on your side. Their army is immense. They will keep coming, and attacking, until every last one of the people who came here from Second Earth is killed. That is a simple, sad fact. After they are finished, it's anybody's guess as to what shape you will be in when the klees decide to come calling again. Make no mistake. Whether you choose to follow our plan, or decide to stay and defend yourselves, you will have to fight this army. The choice you have is to fight them here, or take the battle to them. We wish there was a third choice. There isn't.”

Everyone shifted in their seats uneasily.

“There's something else,” Gunny continued. “To those who came from Earth, you must understand that this attack is going to be launched by the very same people who tore you from your home. The truth is, they wanted you dead back then. If not for the work of one woman, you would be. The Ravinians eliminated you because you posed a threat to their plans. You still pose a threat, and that is why they are coming after you. To the gars of Black Water, you are in much the same situation. You've seen how Ravinia changed Eelong. There was peace with the klees. I know. I helped forge it. But Ravinia has thrown out every bit of progress we made and declared you to be fair game. To be hunted as food. This is the kind of world that Ravinia has created all over Halla. In one way or another, they are eating their enemies. You gars haven't seen these other worlds, but you Yanks have. You know about the flumes. You've already traveled through one. You know there are other societies out there. Other worlds. Other lives. Ravinia is controlling it all, and it began when they exiled you from your home. This is
your chance to take back your lives. To stop the people who have wronged so many. This is the last chance to try and make things right.”

Gunny sat down, winded, but his eyes were clear and focused. He had made an impassioned plea that was hard to argue with. At least, I hoped it was hard to argue with.

One of the Yank leaders stood and said, “Perhaps there
is
a third choice. What if we Yanks picked up and left Black Water? If the Ravinians are targeting us, we shouldn't stay and endanger the gars.”

Aron said, “That's a noble gesture, but without the Yanks, I do not believe we will have the strength to fend off the klees again. I think I am speaking for all the gars here, who say that whatever we decide to do, we must do it together. Gars and Yanks.”

One of the gar leaders asked, “If this army you speak of is made up of creatures like the ones that attacked Black Water, we have weapons that will stop them.”

“Do you?” I asked. “How many of those radio cannons do you have? How much power do they have? Is it limitless? We're talking about multiple thousands of dados. You could wipe out half of them and still be overrun by thousands more. Are your weapons that powerful?”

Their dark looks told me that they weren't.

Courtney stood and said, “If I can add one thing. I haven't seen this Ravinian army on Third Earth, but I've seen what their leader is capable of. We here, all of us, gars and Yanks, represent the last hurdle in his plan to conquer Halla. I believe that. And I believe that Ravinia's leader, Saint Dane, will do everything in his power to wipe us out of his way. He is close now. He won't back down. We're in danger one way or the other. I say we should agree to Pendragon's plan. If I have to
die, I want it to be while I'm fighting for what is right.”

She sat back down and gave me a quick, sheepish smile.

The leaders looked at one another, not sure who should speak. It was Aron who took command.

“Do you have any idea when this attack might come?” he asked.

“The last I heard was that their army was being mobilized. I don't know if that means an attack is imminent, or will take several days. Either way, I think we've got to move quickly.”

Aron nodded thoughtfully. “If you do not mind, we need to discuss this among ourselves.”

Gunny, Courtney, and I stood up to leave.

“Courtney, you should remain,” Aron said quickly. “You are one of us now.”

“Thank you,” she said, and sat back down while giving me a reassuring smile.

It was odd to think of Courtney as one of them, but if her sticking around meant a strong voice who would try to convince them to follow our plan, I was all for it.

“Whatever your decision is, we will respect it,” I said. Then added, “But please, don't take long.”

Gunny and I were given a hut to rest and relax in. Rest and relax. Yeah, right. They brought us some food, which I was grateful for. I hadn't eaten in centuries.

“What do you think?” I asked Gunny.

“About what? Our plan, or if they're going to join us?”

“Both.”

“I don't know if they'll join us,” he answered. “I wouldn't be surprised either way. As for our plan, well…” He finished the thought with a shrug. He didn't want to say the words, but it was clear that his confidence wasn't high.

I didn't blame him for thinking that way. My confidence wasn't exactly soaring either. We had cobbled together a plan that not only involved timing, but moving multiple thousands of people across time and space. Oh yeah, and it all hinged on our ability to create a giant flume. It was beginning to seem like fantasy. But it was the only fantasy we had. There was no Plan B.

Hours went by with no answer. I tried to sleep, but that was impossible. It was like having an alarm clock close by that you know will go off any second. You can't sleep with that hanging over your head. There was no way to know how long it would take for them to make a decision. Worse, we didn't know how long we had before the dados began to move from Third Earth. With each passing second, my anxiety grew.

Gunny wasn't doing much better. He was lying on his back with his eyes closed, but he didn't fool me. He wasn't sleeping. His steadily tapping shoe gave him away. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the door opened, and Courtney hurried in. Gunny and I were both on our feet before she was halfway into the room.

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