“I will give you one peck of time to begin the transfer,” his voice boomed. “If I see no sign of your compliance, we will open fire. So until then, enjoy your day!”
What was a peck? Was that an hour? A minute? A second? Uncle Press read my mind and said, “Twenty minutes, in case you were wondering.”
Saint Dane had one more thought. “Oh, one last thing,” his voice boomed. “Welcome to Cloral . . . Pendragon.”
Yikes. My knees buckled, which I’m sure was the exact reaction Saint Dane wanted. He knew we were here. Luckily, the other vators had more to worry about than why this pirate had given me a personal greeting. That would have been hard to explain. So instead of questioning me, they all started chattering at once. Half argued to give him the food, the other half wanted to fight. Neither choice was a good one.
“At least we know a little about his plan now,” said Uncle Press, trying to sound positive.
“Yeah, big deal,” I shot back. “What are we going to do about it?”
At that moment Spader burst into the shack. He looked around quickly until he saw us. “Press, Pendragon, come!” he shouted.
Neither of us knew what else to do, so we followed. Once outside we saw that Spader was off and running. He led us down to the same floating docks where we first arrived on Grallion. The area was deserted because all the other aquaneers were up on deck, ready to defend their habitat.
He ran to the end of one dock and jumped onto his skimmer. We finally caught up to him. I shouted, “What are you doing?”
While he spoke Spader busily prepared the skimmer for a trip.
“My father taught me everything there is to know about every ship on the sea,” he said quickly. “I know about that raider cruiser, the Pursuit. There were only a few built, back when the aquaneers feared there might be a war between the habitats. They even built warships that traveled underwater. But the war never happened and the cruisers and submarines were never used—except for a few that got hijacked by raiders.”
“What’s the point, Spader?” asked Uncle Press.
Spader stopped working and looked up at us. “I know where she’s vulnerable. I can scuttle the guns.”
“How?” I asked in disbelief.
“Simple. There are two intake ports below the waterline. That’s where they bring in water for power and ammunition. If I drive a skimmer into an intake port, it’ll jam up the works. No water, no guns. It’ll be dead in the water and we can take her!”
“Did you tell Yenza about this?” asked Uncle Press.
“She wouldn’t listen. She thinks I’m off my cake.”
“Are you off your cake?” I asked.
Spader jumped off his skimmer and back onto the dock. He stood across from us and spoke with sincerity.
“Ever since you turned up here, I’ve had a feeling,” he said. “First you, Press, then later when you came back with Pendragon. I feel like you two mates are here for more than just picking fruit. Am I right? Are the three of us in for a natty-do, or am I just shooting fish?”
It seemed Spader had some rumblings about his future as a Traveler after all. He didn’t know much, he could only sense it, but it was there just the same. His father probably taught him many things to prepare him for this moment, just as Uncle Press did for me. Whatever it is that makes one a Traveler, it was starting to kick in.
“Are you with me?” Spader asked.
“More than you know,” answered Uncle Press. “What’s your plan?”
Spader jumped back down onto his skimmer.
“Press, stay here. Get to Yenza. Tell her what we’re doing. When the intake ports are jammed up, I’ll send up a signal with this flare.”
He held up a small pistol that was probably a flare gun.
“This flare won’t go up until the Pursuit is crippled,” he added. “Then Yenza can take a crew and board her before the raiders figure out what happened.”
“What about me?” I asked.
“You’re getting pretty good under the water, mate,” he said.
“Whoa! You want me to go with you? Under that cruiser?”
“I told you, there are two intake ports. I can’t hit ’em both at the same time.”
I looked to Uncle Press, hoping he’d bail me out of this suicide mission. He didn’t.
“Are you up to this, Bobby?” he asked.
No! I wasn’t!
“It’ll be easy, mate,” said Spader. “They won’t be looking underwater. All we have to do is sneak up from below, wrench off the intake covers and send in a couple of skimmers. Snappy-do!”
It did sound easy. I spent a lot of time underwater with Spader and I was pretty confident down there. Maybe I could do this after all.
“I don’t suppose there’s a plan B?” I asked Uncle Press.
“Not this time,” he answered. “Unless you’ve got one.”
I didn’t. I was going underwater.
“Wait for the flare!” shouted Spader.
“Be careful!” Uncle Press shouted back as he ran back up the stairs toward the deck.
Yeah, careful. That was a joke, right?
Spader opened the cargo carrier that was behind his skimmer and pulled out two water sleds and two air globes. He threw one air globe to me and stowed the two water sleds in the floor compartment of his skimmer. He then unhooked the cargo carrier so he wouldn’t have to drag it along.
“Are those water sleds big enough to do the job?” I asked.
“Nah, those are for our getaway,” said Spader.
“Then what are we going to use to jam the intake ports?”
Spader jumped from his skimmer onto another that was right next to it. He threw a few toggle switches and the engines whined to life.
“You take my skimmer,” he said.
This didn’t make a whole lot of sense. If we were going to sneak up on the raiders’ cruiser from underwater, then why were we each taking a skimmer? They may be fast, but Saint Dane and his crew would see us coming for sure.
Spader put his air globe over his head and it instantly conformed to him. I did the same. I jumped onto the skimmer and started to power it up. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “Won’t they see us coming?”
Spader pointed to a black toggle switch that was under the steering column.
“They would—if we were on top of the water.”
He flipped the black toggle and a rush of air bubbles blew out from under his skimmer. Then it started to sink. Spader looked at me and smiled. I found the same switch on my skimmer, and threw it. The same thing happened. Slowly my skimmer submerged. As it turned out, these babies didn’t just fly over the water, they traveled underwater, too!
Just before his head went under, Spader asked, “How do you know Zy Roder?”
“Long story,” I answered. “I’ll tell you later.”
“You’d better. Hobey-ho!”
With that, my head sank below and we were under way. Spader had given me skimmer lessons before, so I was familiar with how it operated. But this was way different. Rather than stand up, I held on to the steering handles and my body floated parallel to the deck.
“You okay?” asked Spader.
“I think,” was my answer.
“Then let’s hit it!”
He cranked his throttle, dipped the nose of his skimmer, and immediately shot down to the ocean floor. I did the same, and we were off. This was a lot like using the water sleds, except they were much more powerful. I was too heavy on the throttle at first and the skimmer nearly pulled out of my grasp. I followed behind Spader but made sure to stay out of his wake because when I got too close, the jets from his skimmer’s pontoons hit me like turbulence. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually got the knack of controlling the vehicle and staying clear of Spader. Now all I had to do was worry about the killers we were sneaking up on.
Spader hugged the sandy bottom. That was smart. The deeper we were, the less chance there was of us being spotted. Remember, the water
was very clear on Cloral. Visibility had to be at least a hundred feet. I really hoped that from the deck of the Pursuit, we just looked like big fish.
In no time I could look up and see the dark shape of the cruiser floating above us. Everything looks bigger underwater, but even accounting for that, this ship looked immense. It was like a giant black cloud that blocked out the sun. Spader set his skimmer down in the sand directly beneath the massive ship, right in its shadow.
“I’ll go up first,” he said while taking out a wrench-looking tool from his back pocket. I’ll pull off the intake covers, then come back for you. Get the water sleds ready to go.”
I nodded and gave the “okay” sign. I still wasn’t used to talking underwater. Spader took off swimming up to the Pursuit, and I swam to his skimmer to get the water sleds. So far so good, but time was running out. I didn’t have my watch (since I wasn’t allowed to have a Second Earth watch on another territory), but I guessed that we were getting close to the end of the twenty-minute time limit.
I got both water sleds and rested them down in the sand between our skimmers. A few moments later, Spader joined me.
“It was snappy-do,” he announced. “Covers came right off. All that’s left is for us to drop off our gifts.”
“Tell me exactly what to do,” I said.
Spader pointed up at the hull. Right near the stern you’ll see a big round opening. I left the cover hanging from it so you wouldn’t miss. There’s two of ’em. I’ll take the one on the far side of the keel. All you have to do is bring the skimmer right up to the mouth, hit the throttle, and let her go. Soon as it’s on the way, meet me right back here. I’ll set off the flare, and we’ll have a leisurely water sled ride back to Grallion while Press and Yenza start the natty-do topside.”
“Got it,” I said. It didn’t sound all that hard.
“Then let’s be heroes,” said Spader, and hit the throttle of his skimmer.
He didn’t speed to the surface; he traveled with more caution. Now was not the time to get cocky and make a mistake. I powered up and ascended just as cautiously. I kept looking up at the dark hull as I grew closer, expecting some alarm to sound and to have the raiders start firing their water cannons down at us. As long as we stayed directly under, we stood a good chance of pulling this off.
It only took a few seconds for us to reach the ship. A steady hum came from its engines. I glanced to Spader. He pointed up at the hull. I looked, and sure enough, there it was. There was a round opening about six feet in diameter with a metal cover hanging below it. The intake port wasn’t flush with the hull, it was perpendicular to it. The metal cover that hung from the opening had narrow slits to let water in and debris out. Now that the cover was off, anything could get stuck inside and we were riding two very big pieces of debris. I was beginning to think this would work.
Spader and I now had to separate. He gave me a thumbs up sign—a Second Earth gesture he picked up from me—and glided his skimmer across the keel to the far side of the ship and the other intake port.
Now came the most critical part of the operation. I carefully guided my skimmer up toward the open port. The opening wasn’t much bigger than the width of the skimmer, pontoon to pontoon, so I had to make sure the whole vehicle got inside. I also didn’t want to bang the skimmer against the hull because that might alert someone that predators were lurking below. I carefully used the throttle to maneuver the craft into position. I had to bring it right up under the hull, then move parallel with the hull into the intake port. It was tricky, but I soon had the entire skimmer resting inside the port. The hard part was over. I was almost there. All I had to do was hit the throttle.
But I never got the chance.
That’s because the ship came to life. The engines that had been idling quietly suddenly roared. I guessed the twenty minutes were over. The raiders were getting ready to fire on Grallion. The noise grew deafening, but worse than that, I felt a rush of water and realized with horror that I was being sucked into the intake port! The Pursuit was drawing in water for power and ammunition—and I was well within sucking range! The force of the intake pulled me into the opening. In seconds I would be splatter. There was nothing to grab on to. I was going in.
That’s when a strange thing happened that I still can’t explain. Even as I think back to what happened, it doesn’t make sense. It felt like someone seized me by the hand and pulled me out far enough to grab on to the edge of the intake port. I wrapped my fingers around the lip then struggled to bring my other hand forward and grab on as well. I looked up, expecting to see Spader there, but he wasn’t there. Whoever had saved me was gone.
Did I say saved? I wasn’t saved yet. I held on to the lip of the intake port with the tips of my fingers. My entire body was still inside the tube leading into the ship. The force of the water grew stronger. I didn’t have the strength to pull myself forward. I tried to find something with my feet to push off of, but the inside of the tube was smooth. I wasn’t going to last much longer.
That’s when I realized that the force of the intake pump wasn’t just pulling on me, it was pulling at my skimmer, too. There was still hope! If I could hold on long enough, the skimmer would be sucked into the engine and jam it up just as if I had sent it in myself. All I had to do was hang on. But I didn’t know how long I would last. It was torture. The only thing keeping me from being hamburger were the tips of my fingers. I watched as the skimmer slowly moved past me, headed deeper into the ship. It was taking too long. I wasn’t going to be able to hang on much longer. The force of the water grew stronger, and the skimmer moved faster. But that meant it was even tougher to hold on. I screamed. Why not? Nobody could hear me over the roar of the engines.
My fingers had gone numb. I was done. Like a fiendish hungry beast, the intake pump finally won the battle. I lost my grip. I flew in toward the engine, knowing I was seconds away from death. I could only hope that it wouldn’t hurt too much.
But an instant later I heard a horrifying grinding sound, and the pull of water stopped. The skimmer had been sucked into the engine! Spader’s plan worked. Yes! I instantly kicked my fins and swam out of that hole as fast as I possibly could. I blasted out into open water and shot down toward the bottom, kicking for all I was worth.
Spader was already there, waiting for me. I was totally out of breath and probably looked as terrified as I felt.
“What kept you?” asked Spader calmly.
I wanted to scream that I was nearly sucked into the engine, but figured it could wait until later.
“Did you do it?” I yelled.
“Of course,” was Spader’s confident answer.
“Then shoot the flare!” I ordered.
He pointed the gun topside and fired. A screaming bright arc of light blasted from the pistol and shot toward the surface leaving a bright trail of light behind it. I looked up to see that the missile broke the surface and continued on into the sky. We had done it. We had crippled Saint Dane and the Pursuit and opened the door for Yenza and the aquaneers to defend Grallion.
But we had done something else, too.
A few seconds later I saw four splashes next to the ship. Four divers had just hit the water, and they were coming after us. Yeah, you guessed it. The raiders saw our flare.
“Uh-oh,” said Spader. “Hadn’t thought of that.”
“We can’t get back to Grallion,” I said. “They’ll get us for sure.”
“Then let’s give ’em a chase,” said Spader as he grabbed his water sled.
We both powered up and sped off along the ocean floor headed for . . . I didn’t know where. We flew over the bottom, inches from the coral, looking for a place to hide. It was a good thing that Spader and I had played all those games underwater, because my skills at handling the water sled were pretty good. Without slowing down, I looked back and saw the four raiders were right after us. They had water sleds too. I wondered if one of them was Saint Dane.
As we flew along the ocean bottom something cau
ght my eye off to our right. Something was swimming alongside us, shadowing us. I only caught a quick glimpse because whatever it was, it darted below the coral. But what I saw didn’t make sense. It couldn’t have been a person because it was moving too fast. It might have been a big fish, maybe even a quig, but quigs were gray and black. This thing was green, like the water. Weird.
“The kelp!” shouted Spader.
I forgot about my strange vision and looked ahead to see the beginnings of the tangle of red sea kelp that grew from the coral reef and stretched up to the surface. If we could get into that dense jungle, we might have a chance of losing the raiders.
“Stay close,” commanded Spader. “Don’t want to get separated in there.”
We hit the dense kelp but didn’t slow down. The slimy leaves whipped at us as we sped by. Imagine running full tilt through a wet field of corn. That’s what it was like. For a moment I thought we were home free, but it didn’t last long because a second later, we popped out of the far side. Bad news. The kelp forest wasn’t anywhere big enough to hide us. We had to keep going.
And that’s when it happened. It was just a slight movement. I wasn’t even sure what it was at first, but a moment later it hit me. It was my ring. It was getting warm and the gray stone was starting to glow. That meant that we were getting near the gate. I looked up ahead and saw the shelf of rock where the quig had nearly gotten us. It was the rock formation that held the gate to the flume. I knew instantly that it was our best and only hope. Spader was going to have to learn about being a Traveler sometime. I couldn’t think of a better way to do it and save our butts at the same time.
“Follow me!” I shouted to Spader and changed my direction toward the rock overhang. Spader didn’t question. He followed. The thought of running into a quig flashed through my head, but right now it was the least of our worries. When we were just about to shoot under the rock ledge, Spader yelled, “Stop!”
The Lost City of Faar Page 13