The Lost City of Faar

CLORAL

Spader!” shouted Uncle Press.

I had my hands on my knees while tossing my lunch. I looked up to see Spader booking across the deck several yards away. He was headed deeper onto Magorran and I knew why. He was going to find his father.

Behind us Wu Yenza came from the pilot house and saw him too.

“Stop right there!” she commanded. “Donotgo onto this habitat!”

Spader didn’t even glance at her. There was nothing stopping him.

“We’ll stay with him,” said Uncle Press to Yenza.

“You are not authorized to be here,” she said sternly.

“We’re civilians,” countered Uncle Press. “You can’t stop us.”

“We can’t protect you either.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Whatever caused this horrible disaster could still be out there. On the other hand, chances are it was Saint Dane, and that bad boy was our department.

“Understood,” said Uncle Press. “We’ll bring him back.”

Yenza wanted to argue, but Uncle Press had already started to jog after Spader. I looked to the chief aquaneer and shrugged. She scowled at me and I turned and ran after Uncle Press.

Spader had a head start on us and it was tough keeping up with him. It didn’t help that he knew exactly where he was going. We had to keep him in sight or he’d be gone. As we ran across the deck of Magorran I tried to keep an eye on him while taking in the new surroundings. This was a manu habitat, but the factories must have been toward the stern because the area we were running through seemed more residential. There were several tall structures that looked like apartment buildings surrounding a big park. This could have been a normal, downtown neighborhood back on Second Earth. It was strange to think that we were floating. Stranger still was the fact that the place was deserted. There wasn’t a soul to be seen — living or dead. It gave me hope that everyone had evacuated Magorran before they met the same deadly fate as the crew.

Up ahead Spader hurried into one of the apartment buildings. When we entered after him, all my hopes that the habitat had been abandoned came crashing down. Sitting in the lobby were three more bodies. Like in the pilot house, it looked as if death touched them quickly and with complete surprise. They were three men who must have been factory workers because they all wore the same bright blue coveralls. They sat around a table that was covered with multicolored tiles. My guess was they were playing some kind of game when they met their fate. One still held a tile as if ready to make a play. He never got the chance. The whole scene was creepy and I didn’t want to look too closely, but I did see that all three men had the same trace of dried green liquid on their chins. Whatever it was, it must have had something to do with the way they died.

I didn’t want to be there anymore. This was getting dangerously gross. I was all set to turn and bolt back for Grallion, when we heard a crash coming from deeper in the building that sounded like breaking glass. Either it was Spader or somebody was still alive. Uncle Press took off toward the sound and as much as I wanted to run the other way, I stayed with him.

As we ran down a long corridor I tried not to think about what horrors lay behind each of the closed doors we passed. It was like running through a tomb. We finally came to a door that was open slightly.

“You ready for this?” Uncle Press asked.

“No, but we gotta do it,” I answered.

So he pushed the door open and we both entered.

We saw right away that this was an apartment very much like Spader’s on Grallion. It was small and simple, with molded furniture and windows that looked out on the ocean. Nobody was here, so we had to move on into the bedroom.

That’s where we found him. Spader stood in the middle of the room. At his feet was a shattered vase. That was the sound we heard. Spader must have broken it himself, probably in anger. When we entered, he didn’t turn to look at us. That was because he was focused on his father. The man was sitting at a desk with his head resting on the surface. Yes, he was dead. Like the others, it looked as if he had died peacefully. He wore his full aquaneer uniform. My guess was he wanted to look as good for his son as Spader wanted to look for him. My heart went out to my friend. I had expected Spader to discover that his father had disappeared, just as mine had. But this was worse. Much worse.

I think Spader was in shock. His eyes were focused on his father as if he thought he could change the sight before him by sheer willpower.

I had no idea of what to say or do. Uncle Press walked over to the fallen aquaneer and gently closed his eyes. He then looked to Spader and said in a gentle voice, “Don’t be sad, this is the way it was meant to be.”

Though he didn’t know it yet, Spader was a Traveler. As I was told many times before, everything happens for a reason. I didn’t quite buy it yet, but that’s what I was told.

Spader looked into Uncle Press’s eyes and I saw how bad he was hurting.

“This is the way it was meant to be?” he asked with a shaky voice. “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” Uncle Press said gently.

“We’re going to help you.”

I knew what Uncle Press meant. Pretty soon we were going to have to tell Spader about being a Traveler. But I didn’t think it was going to help him understand anything. I’ve known about being a Traveler for some time now, and I’m still pretty clueless.

Uncle Press looked down at the dead man, and saw something. Clutched in his right hand was a small folded piece of paper. Uncle Press gently took it from his hand and read it. He then looked at Spader, and handed the note to him. When Spader took it, I thought he was going to burst out in tears. That’s because the letter was for him.

Scribbled on the sheet was one word: “Spader.” In his dying moments Spader’s father had written a note to his son. It was odd to see “Spader” written out in normal letters. Since Travelers understood all languages, I suppose we could also understand allwrittenlanguage as well.

As Spader took the note I saw Uncle Press put something quickly into his pocket. Spader didn’t see it because he was looking at the note. But I did. Uncle Press had taken something else from the dead man’s hand and didn’t want Spader to see it. He looked at me and gave me a stern look which clearly said: “Don’t say anything.”

“What does the note say?” asked Uncle Press.

Spader showed the note to Uncle Press and I looked over his shoulder to see it too. It wasn’t a written message; it was a drawing. It was a circular symbol about the size of an Oreo cookie. It looked to me like two interlocking letters from an Asian alphabet. I had no idea what it meant or what it represented.

“Do you know what this means?” asked Uncle Press.

Spader shook his head. Uncle Press handed it back to him and said, “If your father wanted you to have it, it’s more important than we realize right now.”

Spader nodded, folded the paper and put it in his pocket. He then looked to my uncle and I saw a change in the aqua-neer’s eyes. He was no longer in shock. He was totally in control.

“I’m going to find out what happened here,” he said with certainty.

“Good. We’re going to help you,” Uncle Press answered.

The moment was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps. A group was headed down the hallway toward us, fast. Seconds later they entered the apartment and I saw it was a group of five aquaneers, headed by Wu Yenza. These guys looked as if they were on a mission. They were all business, and they carried guns. This was the first time I had seen weapons of any sort on Cloral, other than spearguns for fishing. These weapons were sleek, silver rifles with wide barrels.

I would have thought they were kind of cool, if I hadn’t been so worried they might be used on us. Yenza had a gun as well, but hers was a silver pistol in a holster on her hip.

She strode purposefully into the bedroom and scanned the scene. When her eyes fell on Spader’s father, she cringed with surprise and sorrow.

“I’m sorry, Spader,” she said kindly. “I knew your father. There is much of him in you.”

Spader acknowledged this with a nod.

“Magorran is being evacuated,” she then said, clicking into business mode. “All nonessential personnel must return to Grallion.”

“What’s the point?” asked Uncle Press.

“We’re sending in a medical team,” she answered quickly. “The habitat will be quarantined until we determine what caused these deaths.”

Good point. If a virus had done this, it could still be hanging around. It was best to leave this to the experts.

“When you get back to Grallion,” she continued, “you will be disinfected. Do not take anything from here. Understand?”

I was sure that the same thought shot through all of our heads. What about the piece of paper with the round symbol on it? Was Spader going to leave it? The answer wasno. He walked out of the room, past Yenza, without giving up the paper. Uncle Press and I shared glances, then followed him out.

We were escorted back toward the bow of Magorran by two armed aquaneers. We weren’t under arrest or anything, they just wanted to make sure we got back quickly. Spader didn’t say a word. He walked stiffly, looking straight ahead.

When we got near the crushed bow, I saw there was a flurry of activity going on. Several more aquaneers had arrived and were putting on bulky suits that made them look as if they were getting ready to handle plutonium. I figured they wanted protection against any nasty microbe that might be on Magorran. I really hoped those suits weren’t necessary, because if they were, it would have meant Uncle Press and Spader and I were already infected. Suddenly the idea of being disinfected was sounding pretty good. We had to get back to Grallion, fast.

One of the aquaneers stopped us and said, “We’ll get you on a boat for Grallion. Wait here.” He took off, leaving the other aquaneer to make sure we stayed put.

As we stood there I glanced over at the pilot house and saw something strange. Two agronomers were standing outside, away from everyone else. They were arguing. It was the man and woman whom I recognized from Grolo’s. The man seemed to be pleading with the woman. He was angry and waved his arms to make his point, but the woman didn’t want to listen and kept turning away from him. I had no idea what they were saying because we were too far away, but I wanted to remember what I saw.

A transfer boat brought the three of us back to Grallion. But we weren’t allowed to go home right away. They first brought us to a medical building and made us give up our clothes. I think they burned them, because I never saw them again. We were given replacements though. We also had to empty our pockets. This was going to be tricky. It meant giving up my Traveler ring, not to mention Uncle Press’s ring and whatever it was he took from Spader’s father. I also wondered what Spader was going to do with the note. It could be a vital clue as to what happened on Magorran and I feared it would be destroyed.

The rings proved easy. They were sent through a sterilizer and given back to us. As for the other stuff, I wasn’t sure. Before we got dressed we had to shower with some foul-smelling soap that stung my skin. Some medical personnel watched us the whole time to make sure we washed all the nooks and crannies. Nice, huh? To be honest, I didn’t mind. I would have scrubbed myself with acid in Yankee Stadium if I thought I might be carrying a microbe that was deadly enough to do the damage I saw on Magorran.

Once we were released, all freshly scrubbed and stinging, we walked back toward Spader’s house. Spader wasn’t saying much and I figured it was because his thoughts were with his dad. Well, his thoughts may have been with his dad, but that’s not why he was so quiet. As soon as we got away from the medical unit, I saw the real reason. He opened his mouth… and pulled out the note from his father. He had folded it and got it through without anyone knowing. Smart guy. We asked him to come for dinner, but he wasn’t in the mood. He wanted to be alone. Can’t say I blame him. Uncle Press and I went back to our apartment and I finally got the chance to talk with him in private.

“What happened over there?” I asked right away. “Was it Saint Dane?”

“It could have been,” answered Uncle Press. “Or it could just have been a horrible accident.”

“Accident?” I shouted. “How many people died on Magorran? Two, three hundred? That was no accident.”

“You might be right, but we’ve got to look beyond the tragedy here. Saint Dane doesn’t wreak havoc just for the sake of it. He always has a plan. If he caused those people to die, it’s because it served some overall scheme. Remember, he’s about pushing a territory toward chaos. If we’re going to find his hand in this, we’ve got to figure out what his overall plan is.”

“What about Spader?” I asked. “He’s in bad shape. It’s going to be hard to tell him about the whole Traveler thing.”

“But he’s got to learn soon. He’s the only Traveler from Cloral now.”

“You mean he wasn’t before?”

“Up until he died, Spader’s father was the Traveler. Now it’s Spader.”

“Oh, man!” I blurted out. “Spader’s father was a Traveler too?”

“Yes,” said Uncle Press softly. “And he was a friend.”

He reached into his pocket and said, “I took this from him, but it belongs to Spader now.” He held up the item he secretly took from Spader’s dad and I instantly recognized what it was. It was a Traveler’s ring just like mine. The band was made of heavy silver; the stone in the center was slate gray and there was some kind of bizarro engraving around it.

“I want you to give this to him. You’ll know when the time is right,” said Uncle Press, as he dropped it in my hand.

I nodded and put the ring in my pocket. I wasn’t sure I wanted this responsibility, but Spader was my friend. How could I not do it?

Uncle Press then said, “Spader’s father must have known something was going to happen.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The paper he left for Spader. His last act was to get that symbol to his son, the Traveler. It’s why I think the deaths on Magorran weren’t an accident. There’s something bigger going on.”

“What do you think the symbol means?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll make you a bet: When we find that out, we’ll find Saint Dane.”

It was official. The game was on. It looked like Saint Dane had made his first move. But this wasn’t like Denduron. There were no obvious good guys and bad guys here. At least not yet, anyway. There was nothing we could do but keep our eyes and ears open — and wait.

The next few days slipped by in a weird haze. Uncle Press and I went back to work, but our hearts weren’t in it. It didn’t seem like anybody else cared to be working either. Everyone wanted to know what the medical team would find on Magorran. I found myself stopping and staring out at the manu habitat that was anchored a mile away. It looked like a dark storm cloud looming on the horizon. The only signs of life were the several boats that would travel back and forth from Grallion to ferry medical personnel and repair crews.

Repairs were also under way on Grallion. The pilot brought us back to our original position and anchored us there. I heard that the collision with Magorran pushed us nearly ten miles over the ocean. It was important that Grallion return to its home because that’s where the underwater farm was.

I tried talking to Spader a few times, but he didn’t want company or conversation. I understood, but I also knew he shouldn’t be totally alone. It was sad. The loss of his father changed him. He went from being a total extrovert to spending all of his time alone. This wasn’t good, so one night I got two bottles of sniggers from Grolo’s and paid him a visit.

When I knocked on his door, Spader didn’t answer. But I knew he was in there so I let myself in. I found him lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. By the rank smell in there, I guessed he hadn’t showered much in the past few days. I didn’t say anything though, I just walked in and pressed the bottle of sniggers into his hands.

“Hobey-ho,” I said.

Spader looked up at me and for a moment I didn’t think he recognized me. His mind was miles away. But then he focused and smiled. He took the sniggers, too.

“Strange days, Pendragon, my friend,” he said as he sat up.

“Yeah, strange days,” I answered, and we both took a drink of sniggers. It tasted good. I don’t think sniggers had alcohol in it, like beer. But it definitely had a sparkle, and that was good.

“What were you thinking about?” I asked.

Of course I knew he was thinking about his dad, but it was as good a way as any to start a conversation. Spader lifted his other hand and I saw that he was holding the piece of green paper with the round symbol. He waved it at me as if to say: “I’m thinking about this.”

“Any idea what it means?” I asked.

“Not a clue,” he answered. “But I know who might.”

“Who?”

“My mum. She’s a teacher. Sweetest lady in the world and twice as bright. I gotta get back there… tell her about Dad.”

Spader closed his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was going to cry, but I looked away just in case. Things were about to get even worse for him. Here he was faced with the horrible task of telling his mother that her husband, his father, was dead. But there was more. There was the whole Traveler thing. When Spader went back to Panger City to find his mother, was she going to be there? Now that he had become the Traveler from Cloral, was she going to disappear the same as my family? Was he going to losebothof his parents? I felt like I had to say something to start getting his mind around the Traveler concept.

“Spader,” I said cautiously. “There’s something you should know.”

Spader looked at me. His eyes were red. He wanted words of comfort from me, but I had none to give. As I sat there looking at him, I realized I had no idea of what to say. I needed to explain something that I didn’t fully understand myself. Talk about the blind leading the blind.

“What, Pendragon?” he asked.

As I opened my mouth to say… I don’t know what, Uncle Press entered the apartment. Whoa, big relief. He had bailed me out big time.

“I have news,” he said. “About Magorran.”

Spader and I both sat up in anticipation. We had been waiting for information for days. But one look at Uncle Press told me that it wasn’t going to be good news. He looked nervous, and maybe even a little bit angry.

“Let’s have it then,” prodded Spader.

Uncle Press took a chair and sat opposite us. He spoke softly and clearly so we understood completely.

“The medical team made their report,” he began. “They examined and tested every one of the victims.”

“How many?” I asked.

“Two hundred and twenty.”

Though I knew the number was going to be high, it was still a shock to hear it. Uncle Press let that information sink in, then continued.

“The test results came back exactly the same on each and every one of them.” He took a breath and said, “They were all poisoned.”

The news hit me like a hammer to the head.

“H-How?” I blurted out. “How can that many people be poisoned?”

“They aren’t sure, but they think it may have had something to do with a shipment of rice. It was bad, and they all ate it.”

“What do you meanbad!”demanded Spader.

“They don’t know,” answered Uncle Press, trying to stay calm. “They can’t tell. They said it was unlike anything they’d seen before.”

Spader jumped to his feet and started to pace. “Bad rice? How can people die because of bad rice?”

“It gets worse,” added Uncle Press. “The agronomers are afraid it may not be the only case. If there’s a problem with the food supply, then what happened on Magorran is just the tip of the iceberg.”

My thoughts immediately went back to the argument I witnessed between the two agronomers on Grallion. They knew something was wrong. The horrible reality was slowly beginning to sink in. Cloral was a territory covered by water. People relied on farmers to grow food both on the habitats and underwater. If something was poisoning the food supply, it would be beyond disaster. Compared to this, bubonic plague would seem like a nasty cold going around.

There could be only one reason for this…

Saint Dane. This had his stamp all over it. If the food supply went bad, there would be chaos throughout the territory, no question about it.

“We don’t know the extent of the problem. Maybe it was a one-time thing and they caught it,” Uncle Press said calmly.

“Not in time to save my father,” snapped Spader. There was anger in his eyes. He wanted someone to blame for his father’s death. Uncle Press and I knew who it might be, but now was not the time to share it.

It was late, so we left Spader alone. Uncle Press and I went home to form a plan. The next day was the memorial service for the victims on Magorran. We decided that after the ceremony we would join with Spader, get a boat, and travel to Panger City to find Spader’s mom. The only clue we had to go on to start tracking down Saint Dane was the strange symbol that Spader’s dad left him, and Panger City was as good a place to start looking as any. With that plan in place, we tried to get some sleep.

I barely slept all night. The thought of territorywide famine made it a little hard to have sweet dreams. There were too many thoughts banging around in my head, so I decided to finish my journal to you. Writing always makes me sleepy, and this time was no different. I got as far as telling you that Magorran and Grallion had collided, and couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. So I rolled up the pages and sent them on to you. It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized what a cliffhanger I had written. Again, sorry.

I laid back down on my bunk and finally got a few z’s. But soon the sun was brightening the sky on a new day, the day we would leave Grallion.

The memorial service was scheduled for shortly after sunrise. I didn’t know what to expect, but it turned out to be a pretty emotional moment. It took place on the stern of the habitat, away from the destruction up front. Everyone on Grallion was there. We stayed with the farm workers, the vators, who pretty much kept together in one large group. The aquaneers were lined up along the stern, shoulder to shoulder, in full dress uniform. Spader was among them. It had to be tough for him to stand there, but he did it. Good man.

The pilot of Grallion, a leathery-looking gray-haired guy named Quinnick, led the ceremony. I won’t write down all that was said, but as you can imagine, it was pretty intense. He spoke about the dedication of those who serve others, and the harsh reality that all life must one day come to an end. He spoke glowingly of the crew and workers of Magorran, and about how they would never be forgotten.

Then an aquaneer stepped forward and began to play an instrument that looked to be made from a large piece of coral. It was a wind instrument, and though it seemed pretty crude, the sound it made was sweet, like an oboe. The tune he played was haunting and sad. It was a fitting send-off to the poor people of Magorran.

But it was short-lived because suddenly, without warning…boom!

An explosion rocked Grallion only a few yards from where we stood. The crowd didn’t react immediately. Everyone just sort of looked around, stunned, not knowing what was happening.

Boom! Boom!

Two more explosions rocked the habitat, chewing up pieces of deck and dirt. People started to scatter and run for cover. We were under attack, but from where?

The answer came from Wu Yenza. She stood on the stern and yelled out,”Raiders!”

Raiders? What were raiders? The only raiders I knew were from Oakland. I looked off the stern and had my answer. There was a ship powering toward us. It wasn’t a habitat, it was a battleship, and its giant guns were trained on us. These guys weren’t from Oakland.

Things were turning very sour, very fast here on Cloral.

(CONTINUED)