The Rivers of Zadaa

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The Rivers of Zadaa Page 25

by D. J. MacHale


  There was general murmuring of concern. Some of the people nodded in agreement with the old guy, others were shaking their heads no. The two little kids kept eating. I don’t think they cared one way or the other. I half expected them to start a food fight.

  Saint Dane stood again and took control. “You are a wise leader,” he said to the old guy. “Your caution is further proof of that. All I can offer you as assurance is my own experience. My tribe was faced with a similarly difficult choice. Once the possibilities were discussed, we came to a conclusion that could not be denied. Details aside, we had two choices. To survive, or to perish. We chose to survive, and I am here today as proof that we chose the right course. You, the ruling elite of the Rokador, are faced with the same choice. The path you are on is not a pleasant one, I will not deny that. But what other choice do you have? I am the last one who needs to remind you how close you have come to the depths of oblivion. The wheels are now in motion. I suggest that if you do not want to be enveloped by the dark shadow of death, that you choose to break free…and live!”

  “To Saint Dane!” shouted the really old guy, who had been asleep and drooling. He jumped out of his chair, holding up his goblet. I couldn’t believe he could move that fast. Or move at all.

  “Saint Dane!” the others cheered, and jumped to their feet. Even the old guy who had just questioned their plan took his glass and raised it with the others. Whatever was about to happen, there was no stopping it now.

  Teek touched me on the shoulder and led us back out of the ventilation room. Once we closed the door, I asked, “What the hell were they talking about? What’s going to happen?”

  “Follow me,” Teek said, and led us farther into the building.

  “That group of bozos was the elite?” I asked. “How did they get to be in charge? Eeenie, meenie, miney, mo?”

  “As I said,” Teek answered, “they are descendants of the original Rokador who discovered the underground.”

  “So, they get to be in charge because of their ancestors, not because they’re any good at it?” I asked.

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Teek said.

  “That’s the only way of putting it,” I shot back. “There were a couple of kids in there! I’ll bet Saint Dane had a real tough time convincing them to do…whatever.”

  I had to calm down. This was their show. The way the Rokador chose to rule themselves was none of my business—no matter how idiotic it was. I was more concerned about this big decision they had made. No, more like the big decision that Saint Dane maneuvered them into making.

  Teek led us to the end of a long corridor, where a door stood out from all the others because it was made of steel. He stopped and turned to us. “We must be careful. There will be Tiggen guards inside.”

  “What’s in there?” I asked.

  Teek didn’t answer, but he opened the door and entered. I shot Loor a quick, nervous look. Were we about to see the nightmare that Bokka told us of? We followed Teek through the door and found ourselves on a narrow, steel catwalk that looked down onto a cavernous room. It was freaky at first, because I thought we had been running around the basement of this building. The room we had just entered dropped down another bunch of stories. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Digging holes is what these guys did best. Once I got my wits back, I tried to understand what I was looking at.

  It was some kind of machine room. There were dozens of giant vertical silver cylinders lining the walls of this huge cavern that were connected by massive horizontal pipes. The center of the room was taken up by a single, huge horizontal pipe that ran the length of the room. This pipe had to be twenty feet across, with thick seams that were bolted together by thousands of fat rivets. The bottom half of the pipe was below the floor, so only the top half showed. Built onto the top of this pipe was a long platform. On the platform was the complex instrument panel that controlled the machinery. There were countless flashing lights, along with small dials and gauges. Three Rokador were on the platform, monitoring the gauges and making occasional adjustments to the small silver handles that controlled…whatever. As we watched, two more Rokador climbed the ladders to the platform and manned their own stations. The place had an energy to it. A physical energy. You could feel it. There was a low, steady hum. It felt like…power.

  “This is the center of our world,” Teek said. “It is the master control station for the rivers of Zadaa. From here we channel all the water, and create our power.”

  Hydropower. Of course! That’s how the Rokador kept the lights on. They used the flowing water to create power.

  “So, all the water can be controlled from here?” I asked.

  Teek nodded and motioned for us to follow him to the far side. We snuck across the catwalk and left through the steel door on the other side, finding ourselves in another tunnel. Teek made sure the door was closed, then turned to us and said, “When the Tiggen guards returned to Kidik, we learned why the engineers had been closing down the satellite stations throughout the underground. We were told it was because of the drought. The truth was that they wanted all control to be here. It is how they plan to defeat the Batu.”

  We didn’t have to ask him what he meant by that. He wasn’t finished. He wanted to talk. I think he needed to talk. That was fine by us. We needed to hear. Teek looked tired, and sad. He took a deep breath and continued, “This is the plan Saint Dane brought to us. When the Batu attack, we will wait until they are on our doorstep to be sure that most of the Batu are in the underground. When the first wave of warriors reaches the shores of the Kidik Ocean, we will release the water.”

  Loor and I shot each other confused looks. “Explain what that means, please,” Loor said quickly.

  “It means we will flood the underground,” Teek said with a shaky voice. “Every living thing beyond this island will be trapped, and drowned.”

  Loor fell back against the stone wall, stunned. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Saint Dane’s evil plan for Zadaa had finally been revealed. He had found a way for one tribe to destroy the other. There wasn’t going to be a war, there was going to be a slaughter.

  “Every single Ghee in the underground will be killed,” Loor said, numb. “Thousands will perish.”

  “Xhaxhu will belong to the Rokador,” I said. “That’s the nightmare that Bokka talked about.”

  “But it isn’t,” Teek said softly.

  “Of course it is!” Loor shouted. “Why else would the Rokador wipe out so many Batu? You want the city. How can they make such a cruel decision? The Rokador used to be our friends!”

  Teek was in tears. “There’s more,” he said.

  “More than this?” I shouted. “More than genocide?”

  “Yes,” Teek said. “I promise you, we did not know. Bokka, me, and most of the Tiggen guards. We weren’t here. We didn’t see it. We knew the elite were preparing for war, but we didn’t know why. It wasn’t until we returned that we saw the truth.”

  “The truth,” Loor said. “Bokka said we needed to know the truth. What is the whole truth?”

  Teek wiped his tears and said, “I will show you.”

  We followed him through several more corridors until we had reached the far side of the large building. Teek stopped at a door and said to us, “Outside this door lies the truth, and the horror.” He took a deep breath to prepare himself, then walked out. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to see what was beyond the door, but I had to.

  We followed him onto a balcony that looked out over a vast, flat field. It must have stretched out a mile in front of us, and almost as far to either side. The only reason we could see it so well was that the entire field was covered with small, round white stones. Thousands of them. I’m guessing they were about a foot in diameter. They were equally spaced in perfect rows for as far as I could see. On each stone was a small light. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. There didn’t seem to be anything horrible about this place at all.

  I was wrong.

/>   “It started slowly,” Teek said. “There was no warning. By the time there was serious concern, it was too late. We are not like you. We do not live our lives exposed to the elements. We do not have the same resistance to disease as you.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Teek looked out at the sea of stones and said, “We were hit with a virus that caused a sickness. A deadly sickness.”

  I looked at Loor. Her eyes were wide, unbelieving. The two of us looked back onto the sea of stones. The thousands of lights had suddenly taken on a whole new meaning.

  “It is a graveyard,” Loor said softly.

  It was too much to accept. There had to be some kind of mistake. There were so many! I asked, “Are you saying each one of those stones represents a Rokador who died from this sickness?”

  “No,” Teek answered.

  It was a brief moment of relief. Very brief.

  “Each one of those stones represents a hundred Rokador who have died,” Teek continued. “Their ashes lie below those markers.”

  I was rocked. My knees went weak. The extent of the tragedy was mind-numbing. We were looking out over the remains of hundreds and hundreds of thousands of people.

  “My family is gone,” Teek continued. “Bokka’s too. We didn’t know any of this was happening until we returned. We had been gone for so long and it happened so fast. This is why there was so much secrecy. This is not just about the rivalry between two tribes. The survival of our entire race is at stake. We aren’t running out of space. We’re running out of people.”

  “How many?” I asked, stunned. “How many are still alive?”

  “Perhaps a few hundred,” Teek said, barely able to speak. “A thousand at most. The elite were protected. So were their families. The Tiggen guards were spared because we were not here. Many of the engineers survived who ran the remote control stations. Our ambassadors to Xhaxhu, as well.”

  “Is the disease still spreading?” Loor asked.

  “No,” Teek said. “The doctors were finally able to bring it under control. It had happened once before in our history. Thousands died before a cure was found. I don’t know why it took so long to recognize it this time. It should have been stopped early, but it wasn’t.”

  I felt as if Saint Dane probably had a hand in there somehow.

  “We were told that if the Batu discovered our weakened state, they would invade us. The elite decided to strike first. We don’t want to live in Xhaxhu. Our home is here. Underground. All we want is to survive.”

  “And who suggested this plan, as if I didn’t know?” I asked.

  “Saint Dane,” Teek answered. “He has been advising the elite.”

  “It’s perfect,” I said, reeling. “He’s taken advantage of a natural disaster and gotten the Rokador all paranoid. Then he’s played the other side and pushed the Batu into attacking, which is exactly what the Rokador feared. Unbelievable.”

  “Why would he do this?” Teek asked.

  How could I answer that? “Because he’s a bad guy,” I said. It was the understatement of all time, but I wasn’t about to explain how Saint Dane was a demon from another territory, who was doing his best to destroy the past, present, and future of everything that ever existed. Teek was having a bad enough day as it was.

  “Many of the Tiggen guards do not believe this is right,” Teek said. “But when faced with extinction…” He didn’t finish his thought. It now made sense why all the guards were looking at us with these long, sad faces. They were reeling from the horror they discovered on their return to Kidik. They had lost family, they had lost friends. Their entire existence was threatened. Bokka was right. It was a nightmare.

  “There’s something I don’t get,” I said to Loor. “The Rokador are nearly wiped out by a horrible disease. They’re afraid the Batu will finish the job, so they want to defend themselves by striking first. If it works, thousands of Batu will drown. It would be a double disaster of epic proportions. No question. But is it enough to throw an entire territory into chaos? I mean, where would it all lead?”

  Loor leaned on the steel rail of the balcony overlooking the vast Rokador graveyard. Her mind went somewhere else, lost in thought, calculating the possibility. Finally she came back and said, “Zadaa is a violent territory. Many tribes fight to the death to defend their little piece of land.”

  “The primitive tribes,” I said. “The cannibals.”

  “Yes,” Loor said. “The cannibals. It is one of the reasons the Rokador went underground. It was safer. The Ghee warriors were created to protect Xhaxhu. In the past the Rokador have been our allies, so they fell under our protection as well.”

  “I know all that,” I said.

  “There is a fragile balance on Zadaa. Xhaxhu is one of the only civilized areas on the territory. The Batu and the Rokador are the future of Zadaa. If the Ghee are wiped out, along with most of the Batu, that balance would be thrown off. It would only be a matter of time before one of the marauding desert tribes attacked Xhaxhu. Perhaps more than one would lay claim. These tribes are barbaric. There would be no one left to defend the city. Generations of knowledge and progress would be wiped out. Zadaa would be sent spinning into turmoil.”

  I swallowed hard and said, “And these marauding tribes are, are—”

  “Yes,” Loor answered. “They are cannibals.” She looked at me with fear in her eyes and added, “Saint Dane is very close to winning his next territory.”

  I’m finishing this journal deep within the core of the Rokador world—or what’s left of it. Can it still be called a world if barely anyone lives in it? Teek has found a safe place for us. From here we must decide how to stop the Rokador. Which means stopping the Batu. Which means stopping Saint Dane. Which means we are in deep trouble.

  I’m afraid things are too far along for us to do anything here that would help. It’s all too huge. This isn’t about changing somebody’s mind, or stopping a small rocket, or even destroying a mine with explosives. It’s about stopping an army. That’s out of our league.

  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m beginning to think the best choice for us is to give up Zadaa. As I’ve said so many times before, this isn’t about any one territory. This is about Halla. If Loor and I stay here, we may not survive. Saint Dane may not want us dead, but I can’t speak for the rest of the Rokador. If they’re willing to drown thousands of Batu, killing us wouldn’t make them blink.

  We’ve already lost Kasha. Spader and Gunny are trapped on Eelong. If Loor and I become trapped here, or worse, the Travelers would become so weak I’m afraid we’d have no chance of stopping Saint Dane. As I’m sitting here writing this, I truly don’t know what we will do.

  Before I finish this journal, there’s one last thing I have to write. I told you what Saint Dane said about Courtney. I don’t know if he was telling the truth, or just trying to upset me. The more I think about it, the more it’s got me worried. There’s always some small shred of truth in everything Saint Dane says. The details of what he meant about Courtney finding a beau, whatever that is, don’t matter. What matters is that he would know anything about you guys at all. I’m not saying this to scare you. I don’t think you’re in danger. My biggest fear is that he may have come to Second Earth to begin laying the groundwork for his attack on our home.

  All I can say is…keep your eyes open and watch your backs.

  I miss you guys.

  And so we go.

  END OF JOURNAL #22

  SECOND EARTH

  Mark jumped up from where he had been reading on his bed and paced. Back and forth, back and forth, bed to desk, desk to bed. It was a totally useless activity, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. His palms were sweating so fiercely, he had to put Bobby’s journal down for fear he would smudge the writing. A thousand random thoughts fought for control of his brain; none of them were good. Only one mattered.

  Saint Dane was on Second Earth.

  The demon wasn’t taunting Bobby just for the
sake of it. He was here. Mark was sure of that. Saint Dane knew about Courtney and that guy she met. What was his name? Wimpley? Whipple? Wittle? Whatever. How else would Saint Dane know about that if he wasn’t here? Was this the beginning of his plot to control Second Earth? Up until that moment, Mark held out hope that by saving First Earth, the Travelers had saved all three Earth territories. That hope had just gone adios. Mark knew that if Saint Dane was here, it wasn’t to sightsee and snoop on Courtney. He had plans. Bad plans. And Mark was the only one who knew it had to be true. Courtney was oblivious, and Bobby and Loor were trapped miles underground on an island of the dead where an assault was about to be unleashed that would wipe out the Batu—the tribe that was keeping the civilized people of Zadaa safe from barbaric cannibal marauders. Saint Dane was on the verge of winning another territory and turn his sights to Second Earth.

  Mark’s plan of watching Comedy Central and going to sleep was long gone. He wasn’t sure if he could ever relax and sleep again. Or watch Comedy Central, for that matter. He felt as if he had to do something, but had no idea what. He checked his watch. It was almost midnight. Should he call Courtney? What would he say? “Hey, how’s it going? How was your date? By the way, you didn’t happen to see Saint Dane wandering around campus, did you? Bobby and Loor are about to die, and he told them he saw you messing around with that new guy. Sleep tight!”

  Mark knew he had to get a grip. When he was excited, he couldn’t think straight. To clear his head he went outside and walked around the block. A dozen times. Two dozen times. He had grabbed some carrots on the way out and gnawed on them nervously. Nobody was out that late at night, even the people walking their dogs. That was good. He didn’t need small talk, he needed air. The walking helped him calm down and make a decision. He had to call Courtney. He felt sure that she sounded well enough over the phone to handle the news. The real question was, how much should he tell her about what was happening with Bobby? He couldn’t lie about getting the journals anymore. That much was certain. How else would he say he knew about Saint Dane? It was going to be a tricky conversation.

 

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