The Pilgrims of Rayne (48 page)

IBARA

I
'm writing this journal from a small room somewhere deep within Tribunal Mountain. It has become my home. I hope what happened hasn't shocked you, Courtney. It's been a while since I destroyed the flume, so I've had time to think about it. Now that the emotion and excitement have died down, I still believe I did the right thing.

I've given everything I have in the battle against Saint Dane. I've made lots of mistakes, but I'm only human. At least, I think I'm human. Actually, I don't think I'm human at all, but you know what I mean. Since the loss on Quillan, I haven't been the same. Quillan took a lot out of me. From the beginning I always felt as if there would be an end to this quest. Especially since we seemed to be beating Saint Dane on most territories. Quillan changed things for me. I began to feel as if this battle would be endless. Who says that every territory has only one turning point? What's stopping Saint Dane from returning to any of them to try and turn things his way? On Ibara he convinced the Flighters to attack the pilgrims of Rayne, which was classic Saint Dane. But what about the
dados? There was no turning point involved there. It was flat-out war. What's to stop him from doing the same kind of thing on another territory? He could assemble another dado army on Quillan or march down Stony Brook Avenue.

That's why I took such a drastic step. The flume here on Ibara is history. Saint Dane is trapped. If that's what it took to end this war, it was worth it. I haven't seen any sign of him since I blew up the flume. But I will. I'm sure of it.

Of course, destroying the flume means that I'm trapped here with him. This is hard to admit, especially to you, but I think that's a good thing too. Truth is, I'm done, Courtney. I feel as if I've lost sight of the values that Uncle Press said were so important. Seeing the wreckage of Rayne was hard. Sure, we stopped the dado army, but we might have taken the heart from this territory in the process. I was out of control. My obsession with beating Saint Dane was all I cared about, when I should have been worried about the welfare of a territory. Saint Dane manipulates people to bring about their own ruin. I'm afraid the person he manipulated on Ibara was me. I made the choices. I changed the destiny of Ibara by mixing territories.

Neither of us can do that anymore.

Instead of fighting an endless battle to prevent chaos, I want to be positive. I want to look forward. I want to build something. I see that chance here on Ibara. The village was destroyed. Many people were killed. Rebuilding will take decades. I want to be a part of it. And the Flighters are still out there. That conflict hasn't gone away. The defenses here are now weak. If the Flighters decide to attack, the people of Rayne may not be able to stop them. That's another reason that I'm happy to stay here. I want to protect these people better than I did before. They've even asked me to be on the tribunal. Can
you believe that? I wonder if they'll give me a title? My mandate will be to carry out the vision of Aja Killian. Maybe that was always the way it was meant to be.

Telleo has become my good friend. She reminds me a lot of you, Courtney. She's strong. She has opinions. She doesn't take grief from me. That's probably why I like her. We spend hours at night talking about the past of Veelox and the future of Ibara. I don't think I'll tell her about the Travelers. It has no importance here. Not anymore. Especially since I am no longer a Traveler.

I miss Siry. In many ways I think he should be here with me, with his people. He would want to help them build their new lives. It's exactly what the Jakills set out to do. But I didn't want to trap two Travelers. My hope is that he will stay with Alder, or join with Loor. Together maybe they can learn the real truth about Travelers, and their own lives. They deserve to know that. We all do.

I don't know if you will ever meet Siry, but if you do, please tell him something for me. Days after the dado war, I was sitting alone on the beach, staring at the sea beyond the bay, thinking of nothing for a change. It felt good. On the horizon I saw a dot. It was a skimmer, moving fast, headed for the opening to the bay. My first instinct was that it was a group of dados or Flighters, and I was about to rally the security force. As the skimmer drew close, I saw that it wasn't a dado at all. Four people were on board. I thought I was seeing ghosts.

Flying over the water were four of the Jakills. One of them was rat boy, whose name I still don't know. There was another guy and two girls. The girl driving the skimmer was Twig. They had been hiding in Rubic City and finally managed to steal one of the few skimmers that the dados didn't use to attack Rayne. All I could do was stand there in the sand and
laugh. I took it as a sign that there was real hope for the future of Ibara.

Of all the difficult things I've described in these journals, what I am now about to write is the hardest. But it's reality. I don't think I will ever see you again, Courtney. Or Mark. You are my best friends. You will always be my best friends. My biggest regret over what I've done is that I won't know if Mark is all right. I think that will haunt me for the rest of my life. But I take comfort in the fact that by doing what I've done, I have saved Halla. Saint Dane said some disturbing things. The idea that Halla was only the beginning for some even grander plan of evil was too much for me to accept. It was the final straw in making my decision. Saint Dane is done.

So is Bobby Pendragon.

I will still write to you every so often, to let you know how things are going here. I hope you don't mind. It's the only way I can think to hold on to a little bit of my old life. I think of you and Mark every day. I remember the fun we had, before all this started. I never want to forget that, even though remembering makes me sad. But I'm not alone here. I have Telleo, and her father. It's time to start a new life, and help these people find their own.

I don't know if this is the way it was meant to be, but it's the way it's going to be.

I miss you both. I love you both.

Remember me.

 

END OF JOURNAL
#32

Courtney had to read the last journal
from Bobby Pendragon alone in her “cell,” back in the isolation ward of the
Queen Mary.
Dodger was alone in his own “cell” across the passageway. Until she was released and reunited with Mark and Dodger, she would have to deal with the news on her own. She felt as if the term “isolation ward” could not have fit her situation any better.

She didn't cry over the loss of her friend. She wasn't elated over the saving of another territory. She didn't take solace in the fact that Saint Dane may have been defeated forever. She felt numb. Empty. Being Courtney, her mind naturally raced ahead to the next challenge. What would the next impossible hurdle of their mission be? The strange reality was, there were no more hurdles. There was nothing more to do. Yes, there were questions. Why hadn't the dados ceased to exist once Mark destroyed Forge? If Saint Dane was trapped on Veelox, what did that mean for Andy Mitchell? Was he gone? Or maybe it didn't make a difference, because First Earth existed in another time from Veelox. Or maybe Andy was stuck here, because if he traveled
anywhere else it would create a time paradox. Or maybe…or maybe…

Courtney tried to stop thinking. There were no answers. None that mattered, anyway. There was only the empty feeling of knowing Bobby was gone from her life forever, and their mission was over. She felt as if she should be thrilled, because it meant Halla was saved. Her home on Second Earth was saved. But she wasn't thrilled. She felt overwhelmingly sad.

She spent the next three days in that cell. Alone. With no contact from anyone she knew. It was torture. The room was comfortable enough and they fed her well, but she was going out of her mind because of the isolation. Her only view of the outside world was through a single porthole. Not that there was much to see except ocean, but it kept her from going totally out of her mind.

On the fourth day there was a knock on the door at the usual breakfast time. When the door opened, instead of a steward wheeling in her morning meal, Mark Dimond stepped into the room.

“Congratulations,” he declared. “You're officially free and a paying passenger. Want to play shuffleboard?”

Courtney threw her arms around him. Finally she cried. It all came out. All the emotion she had bottled up for the last few days. Mark held her and tried to soothe her.

“It's okay,” he said. “It's over now.”

“You have no idea how true that is,” Courtney sniffed through her tears.

Mark let her cry.

Later that morning Mark and Courtney sat in Mark's suite, where a few days before Mark had destroyed his invention. It was the act they all thought would change history, but it didn't. Mark and his parents had arranged to pay for Courtney and Dodger's passage. Mr. Dimond was a lawyer. He was very convincing in
getting the stowaway charges dropped against both of them. Mr. and Mrs. Dimond left the two alone. They knew Mark and Courtney had a lot to say to each other. Even Dodger respectfully stayed away.

Courtney did most of the talking. She brought Mark up to speed on what had happened on Quillan. She told Mark about the dados, explaining how Saint Dane had brought the advanced plastic skin from Third Earth. Andy Mitchell wasn't a genius after all. He was a thief. That was the nicest thing Courtney had to say about him. He was Saint Dane. Courtney led Mark into the future of his invention, describing how it changed technology on Second Earth, and evolved into the humanlike dados of Third Earth…that looked like Mark. She told him how that technology was brought to Quillan, where dados became servants and soldiers. Finally she said how Saint Dane created an army of dados that was to be his engine to destroy Ibara, and the rest of Halla.

“Still,” she said thoughtfully, “I don't know why that didn't all change when you destroyed Forge.”

“I know why,” Mark said, dropping his head. “After you and Dodger were arrested again, I wired the KEM corporation to say the deal was off. The whole reason for going to England was to deliver the prototype, and sign contracts to officially create the Dimond Alpha Digital Organization.”

Mark laughed ironically. “I came up with that name. I thought it sounded important. Some joke, huh?”

“What did they say?” Courtney asked.

“They wired back to say it was too late. Turned out the signing of papers was only a formality. My father explained it to me. We already accepted money from them. Heck, they paid for this voyage. Even without a signed contract, when you accept money, it's as good as a done deal. They had been going forward assuming we had a deal.”

“But how? Without the prototype, how could they go forward?” Courtney asked.

“Remember the science competition? Our presentation wasn't just the Forge prototype. We created detailed plans to explain how it all worked. Andy was in charge of those plans and—”

“And he sent them to KEM.”

Mark nodded.

“So you're telling me a science project presentation is what nearly caused the downfall of Halla?”

“It was slick, too. Full color. Nice fonts.”

“That's not funny,” Courtney said with a frown.

“I know.”

“So we never had a chance of stopping you. The flume didn't put us where we needed to be, when we needed to be there.”

“Or maybe there was another reason you had to be here that we don't know about.”

“Yeah, like to murder you!” Courtney shouted. “At least we stopped that.”

“Yeah, I'm glad about that one.”

The two fell silent, remembering that horrible almost-moment.

“They're gone, by the way,” Mark said.

“Who's gone?”

“Andy and Nevva. It's not like they're turning the ship inside out looking for them, but I know they're gone.”

“Maybe that's a good thing,” Courtney offered. “Maybe it means Saint Dane really is trapped on Ibara.”

Mark stood up and paced. “I feel so stupid,” he said, his voice rising. “It was all about me. All along. I nearly caused the downfall of Halla.”

“You can't look at it that way. You didn't create an army, you invented a toy. An incredible toy. Everything else was Saint Dane.”

“But I should have seen through it. I believed everything he told me, because he told me everything I wanted to hear.”

“Exactly,” Courtney exclaimed. “You aren't the first. Let's hope you're the last.”

Courtney couldn't stand being cooped up anymore. She and Mark went out onto the Sun Deck for some much needed fresh air. It was the first moment that Courtney could enjoy being on that ship without looking over her shoulder to see if somebody was chasing her. It was time to heal. Having Mark back and safe was a great feeling, even though she knew things would never be the same as before. Mark had changed. He'd grown up. He was no longer a nerdy little boy. They had both changed. They'd been through too much to be the same people they'd always been before. For Courtney it felt right, but sad. They had lost out on their last few moments of childhood.

Their stroll took them to the bow of the ship. The two stood together at the rail, looking ahead.

“Do you think it's really over?” Mark asked. “I mean, are we safe?”

“I guess it's possible,” Courtney answered. “But how can things truly be right if we never see Bobby again?”

“I miss him so much,” Mark said.

Courtney nodded and leaned in to him.

“How did I know I'd find you two here?” came a voice from behind. Dodger strutted up to them, flashing a big smile. “Here's an interesting little tidbit you two should know about. When I thanked Mr. Dimond for helping us out of the slammer, I told him I thought he was brilliant for getting me off with no assault charges against that officer.”

“He's good,” Mark said.

“Yeah, well he's not that good,” Dodger replied. “He didn't know what the heck I was talking about. He said there were no assault charges. I figured the guy I clocked was letting me off easy, so I went looking for Sixth Officer Hantin to apologize.
Guess what? There
is
no Sixth Officer Hantin. This ship doesn't even
have
a sixth officer. What do you make of that?”

Courtney rolled the events around in her head. “It was his gun,” she exclaimed. “History said you were shot, Mark. We got the gun from that phantom officer! Do you think—”

“Yeah, I do,” Mark gasped. “It was Saint Dane.”

“He wanted you dead and he wanted me to kill you.”

Dodger added, “I guess things didn't turn out the way he planned.”

Mark asked, “So does that mean there was more to his plan than we thought?”

Nobody had an answer. They all silently looked forward at the gray line that was forming on the horizon. They were steaming toward England.