Raven Rise

by D. J. MacHale

  The thugs exchanged looks again. They didn’t look like rocket scientists. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  “Tell you what,” the guy said while pressing closer. He had to be six inches taller than I was, which made him even taller than Alder. I stood my ground and hoped that Alder wouldn’t pop him. “Make an appointment. The professor’s a busy guy.”

  “I’m Bobby Pendragon,” I blurted out.

  The guards looked at me blankly.

  I took a breath and added, “We’re the ones who attacked the Ravinian conclave tonight.”

  The big guy raised his eyebrows in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead we heard a man’s voice coming through the security speaker in the door. “Send them up.”

  Apparently Professor Gastigian had electronic eyes and ears after all.

  Professor Haig Gastigian lived in a simple, neat apartment that had a cool view of Washington Square Park. It was exactly the kind of place I expected a professor of philosophy to live. It was small and full of books. Alder and I had to move several volumes off the couch so we could sit.

  Gastigian entered the living room carrying a tray with a teapot and three cups. He treated us like welcome guests. The guard who sat at the door, though, let us know we weren’t completely accepted. Gastigian looked to be in his sixties, with dark skin and a head full of pure white hair that he combed straight back. He wore big, square glasses right out of the seventies that made his eyes look twice their size. He wore a buttoned-up sweater, a blue bow tie, and walked with a kind of stoop and shuffle. If I were making a movie and had to cast a guy to play a philosophy professor, Gastigian would get the nod.

  “Is it true what they say?” he began. “Are you terrorists?”

  “Depends on your definition,” I answered. “Are we trying to spread terror? No. Are we trying to stop the Ravinians? Absolutely. So to them we’re terrorists. I guess that makes you a terrorist too.”

  Gastigian gave me a sly smile. “Call me Haig,” he said. I think he liked me. That was good. People who liked me were in short supply lately. He poured us tea. I was never much of a tea guy, but I was starving. Alder was too. We didn’t waste any time in downing our cups and polishing off the stale cookies he put out.

  Haig took his own cup and sat back in his easy chair, totally relaxed. “It never ceases to amaze me how gullible people can be. The promises that Naymeer feeds the world on a daily basis are shameless. He tells people what they want to hear, like a politician running for office. It would all be laughably harmless if people weren’t actually listening, and if his ideology didn’t involve the persecution of so many. Those are the people I speak for. The people who will be left out of his grand scheme. There are plenty of us, I’ll tell you that. We aren’t going to sit still and let this fascist consume us.” He took a sip of tea and continued, “So tell me, gentlemen, how is it that you found yourselves giving Naymeer a run for his money, hmmm? I must say, I’ve never had terrorists to tea before.”

  I hadn’t thought about what I would say to Haig. He might have been the last person in the world who had any kind of hope of slowing down the Ravinians, but I was afraid that when he heard what I had to say, he’d throw us out. Still, we had to take the chance. I decided that the only way to go was to tell him the truth.

  “You’re not going to like what we have to say,” I began.

  “I don’t like much of anything I hear these days. Try me.”

  “Okay. The trouble is, the things that Naymeer is saying aren’t fantasy. You may have trouble believing it, but it’s all true. Halla is real. There are other worlds besides our own. You said you speak for the people who will be left out of his grand scheme? You have no idea how many people that really is. What’s happening here is going to happen everywhere else. If he isn’t stopped now, it will be the end of it all.”

  Haig held the teacup to his lips but didn’t take a sip. He stared at me for a long moment, placed the cup back onto the saucer, put the saucer back on the table, then sat back and folded his arms across his chest.

  “You have my attention,” he said.

  Alder and I spent the next hour telling Haig the highlights of what we thought he needed to know. We skipped over many details of the struggle with Saint Dane. In fact we skipped over Saint Dane altogether. What we concentrated on was Naymeer, and his use of the flume to show his chosen people the other worlds of Halla, and how he planned on creating a superrace of achievers to control all that exists, at the expense of those who might have less to offer. Haig listened intently. More so than the guard at the door, who I think fell asleep. Haig never took his eyes off us. Besides trying to digest what we were saying, I figured he was also trying to judge if we were crazy or not. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he decided we were.

  I ended by saying, “What happened tonight at the conclave was the beginning of something evil.”

  “The Bronx Massacre,” Alder added.

  “There’s no other way to say it,” I continued. “If given the power, Naymeer will do the same to anyone who threatens him. The fear of being shipped up there and tossed into the flume will get his enemies to back down. I think that if the United Nations accepts Ravinia, there won’t be anything stopping Naymeer. That’s why we came to you. You have the ear of the opposition. You are the voice of the Foundation. The voice of reason. Something must be done to stop Naymeer. Now. Today.”

  I grabbed my cup of tea and remembered it was empty. I didn’t care. I had to do something other than look into Haig’s questioning glare. The man sighed and stood up. He ran his hands through his white hair. He was sweating. He was shaken.

  “I know,” I added. “It’s impossible to believe.”

  “Not so impossible,” Haig said. He stood before us and pushed up his sleeve. On his arm was the Ravinian star tattoo. Alder sat up straight, as if he had been hit with another Taser. I probably did the same thing.

  “I—I don’t get it,” I gasped.

  “I have seen many of the things you speak of,” Haig said. “I have sat in that conclave and witnessed sights from throughout Halla. I am a believer.”

  “But…” was all I managed to croak.

  Haig pushed his sleeve back down and returned to his chair. He sat forward, leaning his hands on his knees, speaking with passion. “Knowing that we aren’t alone in this life is both frightening and thrilling. But instead of treating this reality as an opportunity to enrich everyone’s lives, Naymeer and his people have used it as a weapon to further their own elitist goals. Yes, I was a Ravinian. Was. I’m a professor of some note. I was selected. Once I realized where it was all leading, I left. I couldn’t be part of it. Instead I used my knowledge and influence to build the Foundation. I was the first to raise a negative voice against the Ravinians. I’m sure they want me dead, or to throw me into the flume as they did those poor people this evening. Why do you think I need the protection of these guards? If not for them, I’m sure I would be gone by now. So yes, Pendragon. Alder. I believe you.”

  I wanted to jump across the table and hug the guy. We had an ally. A true ally. With power.

  “So maybe there’s still hope,” I exclaimed.

  Haig shook his head gravely. “Hope? That’s a fragile concept. For all that I’ve done, I’m afraid we’re tilting at windmills. Ravinia has become very powerful. Naymeer is spoken of in the same breath as respected world leaders. People believe in him. They don’t want to hear the downside of his vision.”

  “So that’s it? We’re going to roll over and give up?”

  “No,” he said adamantly. “There is one last opportunity. Call it my last hurrah. The United Nations is voting tomorrow evening. Of course we have organized a protest to take place outside their headquarters in midtown. But the truly impressive display will happen at the same time in another venue. The Foundation has reached out to people from all over the world who fear the Ravinians. I’d venture a guess that there are more people out there who are against Naymeer
than with him. Call them ‘the silent majority.’ I’m anticipating a showing that is seventy thousand strong. The eyes of the world will not only be on the United Nations, they will be on us. The common people. We will not be ignored. We will not be silent anymore. Our numbers are strong and we will prove it, in force.”

  “That’s incredible,” I said. “Do you think it might sway the UN vote?”

  Haig shrugged. “Who’s to say? At the very least, it will be seen by people all over the world. Perhaps it will convince them to think twice about Naymeer and all that he stands for. Your coming to see me could help with that.”

  I looked to Alder. He shrugged. “How?” he asked.

  “Your name is known, Bobby Pendragon. A few years ago you made national news when you disappeared along with your family. It’s a fascinating mystery that has never been solved, until now. Your return, and the story you can tell of Halla, might open the doors of possibility for all people, not just the Ravinians. Naymeer has guarded the truth about Halla, keeping it for himself and his minions, excluding those who were deemed unworthy. You can change that. You can offer up the truth to the world. The whole world. Present Halla as a wonder for all to share. You’d be empowering the common man. Who knows? Armed with the truth, it might give them the will to reject Naymeer and his cult of the elite.”

  My head was swimming. Haig wanted me to go before seventy thousand people, no, the entire world, and reveal the truth about Halla. How could I do that? It was a huge request. A huge responsibility. On the one hand, given what was happening with the Ravinians, Haig could be right. It might actually help. Still, my first thought was to say no. In my gut it felt like the exact opposite of what Uncle Press said was one of the most important responsibilities of a Traveler. We were not supposed to mix territories and their natural destinies. Explaining the nature of Halla to the people of Earth felt like I would be doing exactly that.

  But things had changed. With the Convergence, was that no longer an issue? There were plenty of people who knew about Halla already. Heck, the Ravinians were traveling to other territories, thanks to Naymeer. The flumes had become busy highways. Maybe keeping silent about Halla was actually giving the green light to Naymeer. If his people knew the truth, why shouldn’t everyone?

  It was a bold step, but I decided that Haig was handing us the one tool we didn’t think we had. He was offering us a platform to speak to the world. I had told Alder that world opinion was much too vast and complicated for us to influence. I told him we had to think small. I was wrong. With Haig, we were able to think as big as Earth. That was worth the risk. We had to take the chance. Besides, we had nothing to lose.

  “All right,” I said. “I don’t know what I’ll say, but I’ll try.”

  Haig reached out and gave me a friendly slap on the knee. “Good man,” he exclaimed. “Who knows? Perhaps your mission as a Traveler was always about this one moment. Seize it, Pendragon. Your words to the world might be the deciding factor in saving Halla.”

  I looked to Alder. He smiled, but uncertainly.

  “If we’re not arrested first,” I said, half joking.

  “You won’t be,” Haig answered. “You’ll be my guests tonight. Sleep here. Order pizza…or whatever it is you eat on—what’s the name of your home, Alder? Denderoon?”

  “Close enough,” Alder answered, actually having fun with it.

  Haig jumped up. He was excited. “Boys,” he said, “for the first time in a very long while, I’m thinking we might actually stand a chance.”

  Alder and I did exactly as instructed. We ordered pizza. Pepperoni. It was delicious. Alder drank Coke for the first time and didn’t like it. I didn’t know why. Maybe he’s a Pepsi guy. Haig set us up in his guest room, where there were twin beds. It was a luxury compared to the places we’d been crashing lately. I spent a few hours writing this journal, to try and get my thoughts down. Writing this one has been tougher than most, because I don’t know if Mark and Courtney will ever get the chance to read it.

  You know what? Lose that. I have to be positive. Mark, Courtney, you will read this someday. Since day number one, writing these journals as if I’m talking to you has helped keep me sane. I’m not going to stop now. When you read this, know that I’m worried as all hell about you right now, but I have faith that you’re all right, and someday we’ll see one another again. Count on it.

  Alder and I went to sleep that night with the faint hope that in spite of all that had happened and all that had gone wrong, there was still a slim chance that the people of this territory, of Second Earth, would see reason. We had to find hope somewhere. As someone once said, without hope, you have nothing.

  It took a while for me to get to sleep. As exhausted as I was, I couldn’t get the image out of my head of those poor people being thrown into the flume. Of Courtney. Of Mark. I tried to think ahead to what we would do if Haig’s rally failed and the UN passed its resolution, but I couldn’t. It was too much. One major hurdle at a time.

  Once I finally conked out, I slept like the dead. I think we both did. We didn’t wake up until almost noon. Haig had breakfast waiting for us. Or maybe it was lunch. Whatever. It was a delicious feast of bacon and eggs and pancakes and so many other delights I hadn’t had since I lived at the Manhattan Tower Hotel. Haig was off making preparations, so Alder and I watched TV. We saw news reports of the members of the General Assembly arriving in New York for the vote. Those images were countered by footage of people arriving from all over the world for the Foundation’s rally. It was like Super Bowl Sunday, with planeloads of people flooding out of the airport. It was a welcome change to see the other side of this drama. There were people out there who cared. Who didn’t buy into Naymeer’s elitist cult. They were regular people who feared what their lives would become under this new and frightening way of thinking.

  We also saw news bulletins about the hunt for the terrorists. Us. There were stories about the strange disappearance of Bobby Pendragon and his family. The newscasters actually speculated that since my disappearance, I had been training in terrorist camps in Asia. Unbelievable. Naymeer’s propaganda machine was in high gear. I took it as a good sign. People were being reminded about Bobby Pendragon. That could only help when I went before the world that night to tell my true story.

  Yikes.

  Finally, at around three o’clock, Haig returned to his apartment.

  “Ahh!” he exclaimed with a smile. “I see that you were not arrested.”

  “So far so good,” I replied.

  “It’s time to go. I have two cars waiting outside. You will follow me.”

  Alder and I got up and grabbed our sweatshirts.

  “Hey, you never told us where this rally is going to be,” I said.

  Haig smiled proudly. “I managed to secure one of the most hallowed venues in all of New York. Arguably in the entire world.”

  “Really? Where?” I asked.

  “Yankee Stadium,” he announced with a sly wink. “We’re going to the Bronx! Tell me that won’t get noticed!”

  With a spring in his step, Haig left the apartment.

  Alder and I didn’t move. Haig’s words were like a shot to the gut.

  “What is a Yankee Stadium?” Alder asked uneasily.

  “A sports arena,” I answered, numb. “Home of the most famous team in baseball.”

  “It is a large venue?” Alder asked.

  “Huge. Think of the battle arena that was part of the Bedoowan castle. You could fit ten of them inside Yankee Stadium.”

  “And it is in the Bronx?”

  I nodded. “Seventy thousand people. All together in the same place. All enemies of Ravinia.”

  The two of us stood there; we were both thinking the worst.

  “Pendragon,” Alder finally said with caution, “is it possible that the horror we witnessed last night at the Ravinian conclave…was not the Bronx Massacre?”

  JOURNAL #36

  (CONTINUED)

  SECOND EARTH

&n
bsp; Alder’s fear was the same as mine. Twelve people had been thrown into the flume the night before. The jury was still out as to their actual fate, but even if they had been executed, did that constitute a legendary massacre that would be spoken about in dreaded whispers for centuries? Would the disappearance of twelve people create such fear of the Ravinians that the entire world would tremble and fall to its knees?

  It suddenly seemed unlikely. The loss of twelve people, though tragic, wouldn’t have that kind of impact. The loss of seventy thousand people would.

  “We must stop it,” Alder declared.

  “How?” I shot back. “Thousands of people are showing up from all over the world. You think they’re going to cancel the whole show just because we said so?”

  “Think of the alternative,” Alder said with a lot more calm than I was feeling. “Seventy thousand people may be in danger. That truly is a massacre.”

  “May be!” I repeated. “We don’t know for sure. What if we’re wrong? Haig said it himself. This is the last best hope to try to stop Naymeer. To stop Saint Dane. If we somehow pull off a miracle and abort this rally, we’d be killing our last chance of saving Halla.”

  “If we do not stop it, it may be the turning point of Second Earth and the beginning of Naymeer’s dominance. Stopping it would save thousands of lives and alter the course of Earth’s history. This might truly be our chance to stop Naymeer.”

  “Unless we’re wrong,” I argued again.

  Alder and I stared at each other. Neither of us knew what to do. I grabbed my sweatshirt and headed for the door. “We won’t solve anything by hanging around here.”

  We blasted out the door and ran down the stairs to the front entrance of the brownstone. Two black SUVs were waiting outside, along with several of Haig’s bodyguards.

  “We’ve got to ride with Haig,” I said to the first guy I came to as we ran down the outside steps.

  Before he could answer, the first SUV took off. Haig was on his way north. The guard shrugged an apology. I didn’t waste time and went for the second SUV. Alder and I jumped in the backseat and slammed the doors. Behind the wheel was a big guy with a neck as thick as his head. He turned to us and said, “Hey, how come you two bozos get special treatment?”