Michael Vey 7

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Michael Vey 7 Page 14

by Richard Paul Evans


  Jack nodded. “We fought together.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “He was the last time I saw him,” Jack said. “You know him?”

  “He was my friend,” Alveeta said. “We went to grade school together.”

  “He fought bravely,” Jack said. “He helped us hold the prison.”

  “You are fortunate to have fought with him. You get to know a man in battle.”

  “Something tells me you’ll be getting to know us all better real soon,” Jack replied.

  29

  Gathering the Resistance

  “It’s a good thing we had that nap earlier,” Ostin said to Jack. “I don’t think we’re getting any sleep tonight.”

  Jack watched the doors as more and more people filed into the warehouse. “I think you’re right,” he said.

  Within an hour of Vishal’s first phone call, there were more than fifty Tuvaluans gathered in the warehouse. By midnight there were more than two hundred. There were both men and women, but the majority were men.

  “How many are missing?” Vishal asked, standing on a wooden crate to look over the crowd.

  “I know of a few who have left Fiji,” one of the men said.

  “Where is Rynal?”

  “I’m right here.” The squat man behind the voice approached. “Sorry I’m late. What’s this emergency?”

  “We’ll begin,” Vishal said. He walked to the front of the room. “Your attention, please.” When the room didn’t silence, he took off his shoe and slammed it against the wall. The room silenced.

  “We have just received the information we’ve been waiting for. The flash of light Rynal reported seeing four days ago was a verified explosion.”

  “What kind of explosion?” one of the men asked. “Do they have nuclear weapons?”

  “We know little about the explosive,” Vishal said. “Except it was used against the Elgen. But our sources have told us two important things. First, the Elgen army was mostly destroyed in the explosion. That is why Fiji has recently been flooded with Elgen guards. The leader of the Elgen, Admiral-General Hatch, is calling in his guards from around the world.”

  “There are many new guards in Vanuatu and Samoa as well,” a woman said.

  “My cousin in Tonga says the same,” said someone else in the crowd, nodding.

  “They are clearly calling them in,” Vishal said. “Which only adds to the validity of the report. Second, Enele Saluni is still alive. He is gathering forces among our people. It is our hope to unite with him and help him overthrow the Elgen.”

  There was a notable rise in noise from the crowd.

  “Where is he?” someone asked. “Where’s Enele?”

  “We’re not sure,” Vishal said.

  Someone shouted from the crowd, “Who are these sources we’ll be risking our lives for?”

  “A ia e fui talia,” Vishal muttered to Ostin. “This man’s name is Namase. He agrees with much difficulty.”

  “Who is it?” Namase repeated.

  “I can’t tell you,” Vishal said. “Only that they will be going with us into battle.”

  “. . . Or into a trap.”

  “It’s not a trap,” Vishal said.

  “Do you know that? Who are these sources of yours? How could they know what’s going on in Tuvalu? No one gets in or out.”

  “We did,” Jack said, standing. “And it’s not a trap. It’s not going to be a cakewalk either, but if you want to take out the Elgen, this is the best chance you’re ever going to get.”

  Everyone turned and looked at him.

  Namase eyed him. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Jack. I’m with the Electroclan.”

  “What’s ‘Electroclan’?”

  “I know that boy,” someone shouted. “He was with J.D. when they sailed to Tuvalu. J.D. never came back.”

  “J.D. was a traitor,” Ostin said. “Why do you think the Elgen allowed him to sail to their islands?”

  “They are not their islands,” someone shouted. “They are ours! And our children’s!”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Ostin said. “J.D. was paid by the Elgen to deliver us to them.”

  “Why would the Elgen want you?” Namase asked.

  “They don’t want me. They wanted the rest of our group. The electric ones.”

  “The boy in the girl’s shirt makes no sense.”

  “It’s not my shirt,” Ostin said. “The Elgen accidentally created seventeen electric children. They have been gathering them. We went there to rescue them.”

  “And how did you get out?”

  “We stole their submersible boat. But before we got here, we were stopped by the Philippine Navy.”

  “I can verify that,” Rynal said. “I flew over them. There were three navy ships, one of them a full battle cruiser. They had surrounded a strange-looking boat. They were taking people off of it.”

  “And I saw them jump off the boat,” Vishal said.

  “That’s when we escaped,” Ostin said. “We’re the only two who weren’t electric.”

  “Where is the boat now?” Namase asked.

  “It left this afternoon,” Vishal said. “I would guess back to Tuvalu.”

  Namase exploded. “You think we’re fools? You think we believe this crazy story of submerging boats and electric children? Why would we listen to this boy in a girl’s shirt?”

  “Enough with the shirt already,” Ostin said.

  Vishal turned red in the face. “I don’t care what you believe, Namase. Stay here with the cowards. But you’ll never return to Tuvalu with your head up.”

  “None of us with a head on our shoulders will ever return to Tuvalu,” Namase said. “And those of you fool enough to believe stories of electric children are just fools who are going to follow this man into slavery or death.”

  Suddenly a low voice from the back of the room said, “The electric children are real.”

  Everyone turned to see who had spoken. An elderly, silver-haired man stood against the back wall, leaning on a cane. One of his legs was in a cast. He was Maatia Maani, a respected Tuvaluan elder and former government minister. He had been meeting with Fijian officials when the Elgen attacked Tuvalu. But it was not respect for his government office that silenced the crowd; it was respect for his position as island elder. There were only three elders left in Tuvalu, and they were regarded with deity-like respect. Everyone silenced to hear what he had to say.

  Maatia blinked as he panned the quiet room with his ancient, dark eyes. “The electric children this young man speaks of are real. I have seen them with my own eyes.”

  He said something to the young man next to him, then began limping forward, leaning heavily on his cane, with the young man at his side. The crowd parted for him as he hobbled to the front of the room. When he reached the front, he bowed slightly to Vishal, then turned back to face the crowd.

  “A month before the Elgen attack, I was riding my bicycle on Funafuti near the Elgen power plant when I came upon two Americans, a boy and a girl about these young people’s ages,” he said, pointing at Jack and Ostin. “They were throwing stones at a dog. Hurting the dog. I told them to stop. They were very disrespectful and told me to mind my own business. They called me many names that I think they did not think I would understand. I told them that they had poor manners and should respect the elderly.

  “The young woman said to me, ‘Maybe you should respect the young or you might get hurt.’ Then she reached out her hand, and like magic my bike was pulled out from under me, as if she were a powerful magnet. I fell hard to the ground. That is how I broke my leg.” He frowned. “They both laughed when I fell. They enjoyed that a great deal.”

  Indignation rose in the room.

  “They will pay,” someone shouted. “Who are these youths?”

  Maatia raised his hand to silence them. “. . . After I fell, the young man walked over to me. He smiled at me; then he put his hand over my bicycle. Electric sparks came out of his
hand. He cut my bicycle in half. I thought I was watching a demon.”

  “I saw the bicycle with my own eyes,” the young man next to him said. “It was cut in two pieces. The metal was melted in a way I’d never seen before.” He turned back to the elder. “My apologies for interrupting, Elder.”

  “Thank you for sharing your testimony.” The old man looked around. “I have seen many peculiar things in my life but nothing as peculiar as those two youths.”

  “That would be Kylee and Bryan,” Jack said. “They’re two of Hatch’s Glows. They’re bad news.”

  “There were seventeen kids born with electric power,” Ostin said. “Each of their powers is different. Some of them are with the Elgen, like Bryan and Kylee; the rest are now against them. But now the Elgen have captured all of them. After what they did to his army, we’re pretty sure he’ll kill them.”

  Vishal turned to the crowd. “Do you believe me now? Or will you deny the testimony of Elder Maani and these young friends who have already risked their lives fighting our battle for us?”

  “No,” Namase said humbly. “My apologies.”

  Vishal looked around the room. “Time is against us. Every day the Elgen force will grow in strength. We must sail as soon as possible. Nikhil, you have the fastest boat. Alveeta, the Americans and I will go with you and your crew. We will find Enele, then radio everyone to join forces.”

  “Do we have weapons?” Jack asked.

  “We have some,” Vishal said.

  “The Elgen have enough weapons to equip a large army.”

  Vishal looked at Jack as if he were unimpressed. “Then we will have to borrow theirs.”

  * * *

  The Tuvaluans spent a sleepless night gathering weapons and supplies for the three-day journey to Tuvalu. As the dawn sun began to rise above the turquoise blue South Pacific, there were, in all, one hundred and sixty-four men and eight women who had volunteered to fight. The remaining forty-six women and twelve men joined together to make a plan to slow the Elgen guards’ departure from Fiji to Tuvalu, using Fijian travel regulations. This was Elder Maani’s idea.

  “Even the smallest of us can keep ten or more Elgen guard from joining the battle through paperwork and regulations or whatever means available,” the elder said. “Oftentimes in war, more damage is done by a bureaucrat with a pen than a soldier with a rifle.”

  One of the young women added, “Or a woman with a smile. It was a pretty woman who kept the British from attacking the American colonial army when they were at their weakest.”

  The elder nodded. “A pretty face is a powerful weapon indeed.”

  * * *

  While the Tuvaluans made their preparations, Ostin and Jack spent most of the night with Vishal, writing notes on the island maps, detailing what they knew of where the Elgen strongholds were. The most important question they couldn’t answer was where Enele was and how they would find him.

  “If I were him,” Jack said. “I would first rescue my grandfather.”

  Ostin shook his head. “I don’t think so. Nike is the Elgen’s stronghold. With a force that small, even surviving Elgen guards could stop them. I think Enele is patient. He will gather men and weapons first, then free his grandfather. Prime Minister Saluni has already been imprisoned since Hatch took over. What’s a few more days?”

  Alveeta nodded. “I think little Ostin is right. The Enele I know is not one to let his heart outrun his brain.”

  Ostin looked at the map of Tuvalu. He put his finger on Hades, then moved it down. “If I were him, I would go to where the largest potential number of soldiers were located.” He touched the map. “That would be here, the closest island, Nanumaga. That’s where the Elgen grow their food. It will be filled with hundreds of young, strong workers. They’ll also need food and water; both would be plentiful there. The only thing they won’t have is weapons.”

  “Then where?” Jack said.

  Ostin studied the map again, then said, “The next closest island is Nui, the Elgen’s science island, where the Volta is docked. But there’s nothing there for them except scientists. Like I said, they may gather people on Nanumaga, but without weapons they’re not soldiers. The most likely way for them to secure weapons would be to sail south to Vaitupu. That’s where the Elgen train their guards and dock their warships. Before the battle of Hades it would have been suicide to go there, but I’m guessing that it’s probably only guarded now by a skeleton crew of a few dozen guards.”

  Jack said, “Enele’s forces would probably land there after dark, when they are less likely to be seen.”

  Ostin’s forehead furrowed. “Not necessarily. The Elgen have advanced night-vision technology, which would give them the advantage. If they attack during the day, they’re on equal ground. Or might even have the advantage since they are better hunters and know the land better.”

  “So the real question,” Vishal said, “is, would Enele think of all that?”

  “How long would it take them to get from Nanumaga to Vaitupu?” Jack asked.

  “That depends on what boats they are able to secure from Nanumaga. If there are none and they keep the Joule’s tenders, it will take them two days.”

  Jack nodded. “After Vaitupu, where would he go?”

  “The only other island between Vaitupu and Funafuti is Nukufetau,” Ostin said, “the one Hatch renamed Plutus. That’s where the Joule was docked. But there’s no reason for them to go there, so I’m guessing that Enele would bypass it and sail directly to here”—Ostin drew his finger in an arc around the east side of the island—“landing on the northeastern side of Funafuti.”

  “That side of the island is very much jungle,” Alveeta said.

  “Yes. If they have many people, it would give them the cover to land and move in toward the Starxource plant. And,” Ostin said, looking at Jack, “rescue his grandfather.”

  “I do not think they will stop in Vaitupu,” Vishal said. “Family is all in Tuvalu. Enele might stop in Nanumaga for supplies, but then he would go to Funafuti to rescue his grandfather.”

  “But would he go without weapons?” Ostin said as he looked away from the map.

  “Would they not find weapons on Nanumaga?”

  “Where there are Elgen, there are weapons,” Jack said.

  “If we sail to Vaitupu and they’ve already started to attack Funafuti, we will be too late to help,” Alveeta said.

  Ostin rubbed his head. “We could really use Ian right now.”

  “Who is Ian?” Vishal asked.

  “He’s one of the electrics,” Jack said. “He can see for miles and miles.”

  “I can see for many thousands of miles,” Alveeta said.

  Ostin looked at him. “You can?”

  “Yes. Every night I look up at the stars.”

  “Not what we meant,” Ostin mumbled to himself.

  “All right,” Vishal said, looking exhausted. “We sail to Funafuti and hope he is there.”

  “What do you think of that?” Jack quietly asked Ostin.

  Ostin rubbed his chin, then said, “I just hope that Enele is a better strategist than Vishal.”

  * * *

  With the exception of those still loading the boats, the Tuvaluans met for a final time in the warehouse.

  “Talofa,” Vishal said to those gathered before him. “Many centuries ago our people defended themselves from the people who came by canoe from the Fijian islands. Today we come from the Fijian islands not to steal our lands but to reclaim them, the land of our ancestors’ bones. Konei, e o ai? E o koulua. These lands are ours, not the Elgen’s. The spirits of our ancestors will travel with us. We go not by canoe but by modern boats. But the spirit is the same.

  “Rynal will fly ahead of our boats and send us reports of any Elgen activity. We’ll stay far enough apart from each other to not arouse suspicion, but close enough to be of protection to each other. We may encounter other boats as the Elgen guard arrive. Those who stay behind will do what they can to stop those coming f
rom Fiji, and they will let us know what boats make it off the island, so that we can look for them. We will sink them before they make it to Tuvalu.

  “When we reach Niulakita, you will dock on the southeast shore and wait until you receive word from me. We will go ahead of you to Funafuti, seeking Enele and his warriors. When we find them, we will alert you before we attack the Elgen stronghold. Not a minute before.” He looked over the tired but impassioned patriots. “There is much danger ahead. I fear that much blood will wet the soil of our home. But we will be courageous and we will not fail.” He pounded his chest. “Tuvaluans, be of great strength.”

  The group returned the greeting, likewise striking their chests. “Be of great strength.”

  “That was a good speech,” Jack said as Vishal walked back to him.

  Vishal did not smile. “Let’s hope it’s not my last.”

  * * *

  The group moved silently out of the warehouse. Ostin and Jack followed Vishal, Alveeta, Nikhil, and two of his crewmen out to Nikhil’s boat. There were already three other crewmen on board.

  In all, there were twenty-one vessels in the Tuvaluan armada. They were mostly commercial fishing or transport ships, with the exception of Nikhil’s boat, which was a high-speed commercial touring yacht called the MAS.

  “What’s ‘MAS’ stand for?” Ostin asked Vishal as they boarded.

  “I don’t know. Nikhil won’t tell anyone.”

  Nikhil overheard the question. “It means whatever you want it to.”

  “What does it mean to you?”

  “That’s for me to know.”

  Ostin climbed aboard the boat. When Nikhil was out of earshot, he asked Jack, “What do you think it stands for?”

  He shrugged. “ ‘Maniac at steering wheel.’ How about you?”

  “Well, in Spanish ‘más’ means ‘more.’ But MAS is also an acronym for the disease macrophage activation syndrome, which, as you know, is a life-threatening complication of rheumatic disease. But then I thought, why would he name his boat after a disease, especially one that occurs much more frequently in juveniles than adults?”

  Jack looked at him in wonder. “Does your brain ever want to, like, explode?”

 

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