The Soldiers of Halla (13 page)

Looking down at the devastation, Mark's story seemed possible. It truly was Armageddon.

Mark continued, “They didn't kill everyone, of course. There were survivors. But not in any numbers, and certainly not enough to stand up to the Ravinians.”

“When did it happen?” I asked.

“I'm not exactly sure. I think it was about four years ago.”

That rocked me. “Four years ago? That's all?”

Mark turned away from his flying long enough to give me a dark look. “I think it was the turning point of Third Earth, Bobby.”

I couldn't breathe. Was it possible? Had we been sent back too late? Was the battle for Third Earth, and Halla, truly over before we'd had a chance to stop it?

Mark looked back ahead. He had tears in his eyes. “I just don't get it,” he said. “Obviously this is all about Saint Dane, but what does he gain by destroying most of the population of Earth?”

I didn't answer. I knew of course, but it wasn't the time to give Mark a crash course in Solara. Still, he deserved an answer. Every last survivor deserved an answer.

“Because it's about more than just Earth,” I said. “And it's about more than Halla, believe it or not. What Saint Dane is doing is crushing the positive spirit of man. Once that happens, he can rebuild a universe any way he chooses.”

Mark frowned and nodded. There was no way he could understand exactly what my words meant, and maybe it didn't matter.

“But there is hope,” I added.

“Is there?” he asked, sounding tired and a little more than skeptical.

“The hope is you, Mark. And everyone like you. It's about all those who were exiled through the flumes.”

Mark gave me a surprised look.

I added, “Why do you think Saint Dane wants you dead?”

“Because we're all that remains of the opposition.”

“That's more true than you know. What happened to you when you went into the flume in the Bronx on Second Earth? Where did you go?”

Mark's expression turned dark. “Cloral,” he said softly. That was all he said at first. I think it was tough for him to wind his mind back to that time. He was struggling to keep a lid on his emotions. I didn't want to press him, but I had to know.

“I messed things up pretty bad, Bobby.”

“You?” I said, trying not to laugh. “Mark, with all that's been going on, I don't think there's anything you could have done that would make it any worse.”

He didn't believe me. Something was eating him up.

“Tell me,” I said.

After another minute Mark got himself together and told me his story.

“A couple dozen of us ended up on Cloral in that underwater cave. I was the only one who knew enough to swim out. But once we got to the surface, it was nuts. It wasn't like the Cloral you described in your journals. There were battles between barges. The raiders were everywhere. Each barge was like its own fortress trying to defend itself. We were picked up by some raiders and forced to work on their ships. It was nasty.” He looked me dead in the eye and said, “It's where I learned to fight. You don't want to know why.”

There was one question I had to ask. I had been holding off because I was afraid of the answer, but I couldn't wait any longer.

“What about Courtney? Was she with you?”

Mark shook his head gravely. “No. I don't know what happened to her. We went into the flume together, but she didn't land on Cloral. Once other exiles started arriving, I started piecing together what must have happened. We figured that the Ravinians were tossing their enemies into the flume and sending them to other territories randomly. A few more showed up on Cloral. There may have been others, but I had no way of knowing.”

Mark hadn't yet heard about the Bronx Massacre and the multiple thousands of people that Ravinia tossed into the flume that black day in Yankee Stadium.

He added, “I haven't seen Courtney since we went into that flume together.”

“We were afraid you were all executed,” I said.

“Sometimes I wish we had been.”

My heart ached for my friend.

“How did you end up on Third Earth?”

“I didn't know what had happened on Second Earth,
but from the way things were going with Ravinia, I was pretty sure it was lost. That meant Third Earth was the only territory that Saint Dane hadn't brought to a turning point. As dumb as this sounds, I still felt as if we were on the mission, Bobby. I wanted to get here to try and stop Saint Dane. I gathered together a bunch of the other exiles, and we mutinied against the raiders. We stole a couple of skimmers and took off to the flume. I hoped that a Traveler would come by, maybe even you, and get us out of there, but nobody showed. I knew that traveling without a Traveler would damage the flume, so we sat and waited. I don't know for how long. Too long. I was beginning to think we'd have to live in that underwater cavern, eating the fruit from the walls forever. I finally couldn't take it anymore and called
“Third Earth”
into the flume. I knew it was wrong, but I guess I was going a little out of my mind. I expected things to start rumbling, but nothing bad happened. The flume activated normally and we were on our way here. Twenty of us. At first I thought it was okay. I hoped things had somehow changed. It wasn't until we got here that I realized I was wrong. As soon as we set foot on Third Earth, the flume started rocking. It was like Eelong all over again, Bobby. The flume collapsed. It was my fault. Bringing those guys here was wrong. I'm the one who destroyed the flumes.”

I smiled. Mark gave me an odd look. I guess that's what happens when you bare your soul to your best friend, and all he does is smile.

“You didn't destroy them, Mark. It would have happened anyway.”

“But…what?”

I wanted to put his mind at ease, but I didn't want to
start the whole lesson on Solara just then.

“The flumes were destroyed, Mark,” I said. “All of them. It had nothing to do with you. Trust me. There are bigger forces at work.”

Mark stared at me a long time, trying to understand. He wanted to believe, but he was having trouble. “Are you serious or just trying to make me feel better?”

“Both.”

“You're not kidding?”

“No. It wasn't you, Mark. I swear.”

He relaxed. It was like the weight of guilt was physically lifted off his shoulders. Mark may not have understood it all, but he believed me. Probably because he needed to.

Although, his story raised questions. I knew exactly how the flumes were destroyed, but now I wasn't so sure
when
they were destroyed. I had thought it happened right after I was sucked into the flume on Second Earth. But if Mark had lived on Cloral for so long, the time lines didn't match up. As confusing as that was, it actually fit with what I was seeing. Sort of. Mark aged when I didn't. Though it felt like minutes, I may have been floating in time and space limbo for years. Or maybe time didn't matter once you left a physical world. Or maybe now that I knew I was a spirit, any pretense of living a normal physical life didn't matter anymore. Or maybe I should stop freakin' worrying about things I couldn't control. Yeah, that was the way to go.

“Tell me what happened after you got here,” I asked Mark.

“We barely got out of the flume before it was crushed under some big, marble building I'd never seen before. I figured it was a new flume on Third Earth until we started
exploring. It was the flume in Stony Brook, Bobby. But it wasn't the Stony Brook we grew up in.”

I didn't want to hear those details. I knew they couldn't be good.

“The place was deserted, so we made our way toward the city. We found some survivors, and that's how we found out about the war. That was around three years ago. We've been fighting to survive ever since, waiting for something to happen. Or maybe I should say, we were waiting for you to come. Are you serious about the flumes?”

“Yes. So there are only twenty exiles here on Third Earth?”

“No. After today we're down to twelve. I don't understand it. There are plenty of war survivors, but the Ravinians only target us.”

“That's because the exiles are the last thing standing in Saint Dane's way.”

Mark gave me a confused look. That made no sense to him, and I wasn't so sure my explanation would help much.

We stopped talking for a while as he brought the helicopter in for a landing. We touched down in an empty lot on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. No sooner did we hit the ground than a group of men and woman ran toward us. I tensed up. Were we under attack again?

“It's okay,” Mark assured me. “They're my guys.”

Mark and I climbed out of the chopper. Not a word was spoken because everyone knew exactly what to do. Four small flatbed dollies were dropped on the ground. Half the group went to one side of the chopper, half on the other. They didn't even wait until the rotor stopped turning. Everyone lifted the small helicopter up and placed
it onto the dollies. Soon we were under way, pushing the helicopter toward the open doors of a derelict garage. Once the chopper was wheeled inside, four more people ran back out to scuff up the tracks from our journey, while the others pushed the huge door shut. The whole operation didn't take more than a couple of minutes. The helicopter was hidden away, safe from the prying eyes of Ravinians.

Once the job was done, I turned to look into the garage and saw a half dozen other choppers, along with a number of yellow taxicabs.

“What do you think of our collection?” Mark asked with a smile. “The choppers are courtesy of the Ravinians.”

“You stole them?” I asked in surprise.

“There's more, too. Hidden all over the city. We've been acting like guerrillas since the minute we arrived here, Bobby. We hope to put this stuff to good use someday.” Mark looked me right in the eye and asked, “Is today that day?”

I debated about how much to tell him. The truth about Halla and Solara was a huge, impossible story. I decided that the details would wait for another time. There were more important things to do. So I told him what I thought he needed to know. We sat on the far side of the garage, away from the others. I knew they'd have a million questions, and they deserved answers, but they would have to wait.

“This is the deal, Mark,” I began. “Saint Dane and the Ravinians exiled thousands of people. From what I've heard and what you tell me, they were sent all over Halla. Those people are now the last hope. The Travelers have been sent back to their home territories to find them. But
Saint Dane wants to find them too. Desperately. That's why he tortured that poor guy today. He's afraid of you, Mark. I don't think the turning point on Third Earth was that war. I think it's you.”

“Me?” he echoed, shocked.

“You and all the other exiles. You represent the future of Third Earth and of Halla. That's why Saint Dane wants you dead.”

“Why us? What can we do to him? There's only a handful of us left.”

“There's more than that. Way more. Seventy thousand people were dumped into a flume on Second Earth. I was there. I saw it. The exiles are the ones who stood up to Ravinia so long ago, and it's your collective spirit that's keeping the battle going. It's that spirit that Saint Dane wants to kill. You represent independence. Free will. Unique thinking. Everything that goes against his ideal. You and the others are the last positive force in Halla.”

Mark nodded thoughtfully.

“You're getting a little cosmic on me,” he said with a small smile.

“I know.”

“Seventy thousand?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Man, I'd love to have half those people here with us. We've been coming up with ideas on how to bring down that Ravinian conclave. None of 'em work with a few dozen of us. But seventy thousand…that's a whole different ball game.”

“Maybe you'll get the chance.”

Mark had a gleam in his eye. He was imagining the possibilities. “There were more exiles on Cloral,” he said. “Do you think the rest could be there?”

“I don't know, but I'm going to find out. I'm going to Cloral.”

“What should we do in the meantime?”

“Stay alive. That's the most important thing. Once I know the other exiles are safe, I'm coming back, and we'll take our last shot at Saint Dane. Together.”

“There's something else you have to do,” Mark said.

“What's that?”

“Find Courtney.”

Courtney. Where could she be? After seeing Mark, I had no doubt that she would still be alive. I had to believe that. If anyone represented the positive spirit of Halla, it was Courtney. Heck, she could probably keep Solara going all on her own.

“I missed you, man. There were so many times I wished you were with me.”

Mark and I finally broke down and hugged. He was my best friend. The guy I grew up with. The guy who was loyal to me throughout everything. He was my acolyte. Now he was one of the forces that would try to save Halla. I was certain of that. It was the way it was meant to be.

“Why did you take so long to come back?” he asked.

“I didn't, Mark,” I explained. “I feel as if I've only been gone for a short time. Maybe hours.”

He gave me a confused look.

“Strange, huh?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You know something,” I added. “I think that's good news.”

“How's that?”

“Because I've been sent here to Third Earth five years after Patrick's time. That tells me that the turning point may
have shifted. I'm here because I need to be here. Now. I think we've still got a chance.”

Mark nodded thoughtfully. “You gonna explain all this to me a little better some time?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “It'll make your head explode.”

“Seriously?”