Neff sat pensive.
“I’m full,” said Sparky, stretching. “Got to move. Going topside.”
“Topside?” asked Notch. “You’re a sailor now?”
“I think I’ll go topside too,” smiled Sandy. “See you guys in a little while.” She followed Sparky up.
“Where you live, is it like Lowconzia?” Notch asked.
“Mm,” answered Snowy. He took a bite of fruit and chewed. “Has big mountain ring too, like Lowconzia. Fiords. Snow on peaks, but in central lowland, many farms. Lots of trees, flowers, leafy plants. Very, um....”
“Lush?” asked Notch.
“Mm. Lush.”
“What’s Seasandia like, where we’re going?” asked Neff.
“Has mountain ring too, sinking,” said Snowy, chewing, slowly pushing the palm of his hand downward. “Mostly water inside ring now. Many islands. Vacation place. Pink sand. Sea trees. Sunny. Warm. Very, um....”
“Tropical?” asked Neff.
“Mm. Tropical,” said Snowy. He pushed aside his empty plate. “If you done, we go...uh, topside?” He grinned at Notch.
Notch shook his head, “Another sailor.”
The four travelers from planet Earth spent a sunny Snoflian day at sea exploring the three hulls and the common deck, visiting with Lowconz and Trappid friends, then later relaxing in their swaying hammocks, their seapod windows open to the fresh ocean breezes.
Notch drifted off. Interstellar luxury. Could make a great vacation spot. Think about it: Snoflian Escapes dot com. I wonder if I could get the rights. Would the Snoflians buy it? Nah. Never. But, then you never know….
“Must go…topside, now,” smiled Snowy, as they finished dinner. “Will see Snofliana soon.”
It was dark on deck. Neff looked up into the cloud of stars. “Home is out there, somewhere,” she said, eyes watering. “So far away.”
“Our parents don’t know we’re alive!” said Sandy. “They must be so worried, and sad.”
The four gazed in silence as the huge hulls hissed through the waves, rolling from swell to swell.
A shooting star flew toward the horizon. Sparky watched it. Distant darts of white caught his eye. “Look,” he said pointing. Jagged peaks began to rise from the horizon, slowly forming a formidable, snow-covered, mountain barrier. “Looks like the Grand Tetons.”
The barrier soon loomed overhead. The megamaran plowed full speed toward a crevice between two lofty spires. A fiord. Have to swing really hard to starboard to make it. Sparky grabbed the rail. The ship heeled sharply to the right and raced into the fiord between two vertical rock walls.
Notch gulped and gazed upward. “Towering scene.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Neff, “and scary.”
She and the others went silent, as the megamaran snaked down the fiord under the black cliffs. Sparkles began to crawl across the water ahead. The bow rounded a promontory. Their eyes were suddenly drawn to her right. Thousands of lights glittered along the shore.
“A city without skyscrapers,” whispered Neff, “Like I saw.” She looked up. “And that too,” she said, staring at the glow of a translucent mountainside. She took a deep breath.
“All the lights point down,” said Sparky, gazing across the cityscape.
“Keeps the sky dark,” said Notch.
“So they can see the stars better,” said Sparky.
“And not be seen from space,” said Notch.
The giant craft paused, then rotated in place, until its prows pointed at the far shore. Its pulsing engines pulled it backwards, as it sidled gently into a long dock. While deckhands secured the lines and lowered the gangway, a group of Snoflian greeters showed up on the dock.
“Your friends will be leaving now,” said Snowy. Neff, Sandy, Notch and Sparky turned to see Trrad, Tyfoona and Pizeela. Trrad and Tyfoona were holding hands.
“They’re serious,” Sandy whispered.
“I’m glad he has someone,” Neff said softly.
Sandy and Neff hugged Tyfoona and Pizeela.
“I am so happy to have met you,” said Neff, “I wish you the very best here in your new home. I will miss you....”
“I hope your family will come soon,” said Sandy. And Grandpa too.
“Same, you,” said Tyfoona, touching Sandy’s cheek.
Neff turned to Trrad who waited hesitantly, scratching his head. She gave him a hug. You smell a lot better than when we first met. Good for Tyfoona.
Trrad smiled warmly. “Thenk yew, Neff,” he said. “Tek car Mollie.”
“You’re welcome, Trrad. I will.”
Sparky and Notch patted Trrad’s back, hugged Tyfoona and Pizeela and then nodded to the two Seanids, as did Neff and Sandy.
The Lowconz girls, friends of Tyfoona, took Sandy’s hands. One of them spoke. Sandy only understood the word ‘Sam’, but she knew what they meant. She smiled back.
The Lowconz and Trrad stepped down the gangway to the Snoflian greeters who ushered them down the dock to the city. Halfway along, Trrad, Tyfoona and Pizeela turned briefly, waved once, and went on to their new life.
“I miss them already,” said Neff. “I kind of wish we could go with them.”
Sandy nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” said Notch, watching his new friends walk away.
“Me too,” said Sparky.
The megamaran departed.
The four humans retired to their bunks.
They hoped to be going home, to Earth, tomorrow.
Neff cuddled Mollie. Will the wormhole wait for us?
CHAPTER 57
Seasandia
THE MEGAMARAN SKIMMED along at breakneck speed on a swift ocean current, driven along by a howling tailwind.
Sparky bolted down breakfast, headed up to the deck and opened the hatch. It flew from his hand and banged open. He struggled out and pushed the hatch closed. The wind screamed through the taut rigging. A gust drove him into the handrail, soaking him with salty spray. Awesome.
The first time he saw a catamaran was at the America’s Cup races, where his father had promised him an ocean-going catamaran trip. I’m on a huge trimaran and Dad isn’t here. He felt a pang of sadness.
He looked over the side. The boat was riding on its massive hydrofoils. We’re motoring! Whoah, it takes almost 60 clicks an hour to spring onto foils. Dad should see this! He glanced at the foamy wake, up at the kiting sails, then across the deck.
Snoflian seafarers, harnessed to safety lines, were gathered around an opening on the sloping stern deck of the center hull. A crane rose from the opening, a flying craft swinging beneath it.
“Breezy!” shouted Snowy, slamming the hatch.
Sparky glanced at him and looked back. “Is that a helicopter?”
“Aerosailer,” said Snowy, joining Sparky at the handrail.
It was shaped like a long egg. Two engines with propellers were tucked against each side, a big wing folded on the top, a huge rudder on the rear. Two oval pilot windows curved back from the round nose. Two more oval windows ran along the sides. An oblong window ran underneath.
The crew lowered the swaying, flying machine to the deck and tied it down. They untucked the engines from recesses in the fuselage and locked them into place, the propellers pointing downward.
Two crew members climbed to the top of craft and unfolded the sailing wing. It flapped in the wind.
“A parasail?” asked Sparky.
“Mm,” replied Snowy. “Opens when ship goes into wind. Then propellers push. Solar power. Great fun.”
“Must be,” said Sparky.
“You will like.”
“Me? I’m going up in it?”
“We all going. Fastest way into Seasandia.”
During lunch, Sparky watched Seasandia grow on the horizon. Its mountain rim was
as ragged as Lowconzia and Snoflia, but lower, closer to the sea. It really is sinking. A few patches of snow showed only on the very tips of the highest peaks.
In mid afternoon, Sparky and his friends boarded the aerosailer through the back and buckled in with cross straps. Snowy nodded to the Snoflian pilots who were looking back, waiting. They turned to the front. Abruptly, the megamaran rotated into the wind. The propellers swung up, whirred softly, hummed, then whined.
“We fly now,” shouted Snowy.
The nose of the aerosailer tilted sharply upward, pushing Sparky against the seat back. “Sweet,” he said. They rose, banked right, then cut left, leveled off and increased speed. The megamaran filled Sparky’s left side window, its huge sails luffing, the aerosailer flying parallel to it. We’re moving faster.
The aerosailer rose again and leveled off. It built more speed and rose again.
“Climbing air steps,” said Sparky.
“Efficient use of power,” said Notch, looking out the right side window at Seasandia.
“Like a rollercoaster,” said Neff in front of Notch.
“Without the diving part, I hope,” said Sandy in front of Sparky.
They peeled off toward the peaks, continuing to step upward, nose yawing back and forth in the crosswind.
Notch pressed his cheek against the window to look ahead. A craggy spire sprung into view. “We’re not high enough,” he exclaimed. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the armrests. They abruptly tilted left. The pinnacle whipped past his window. He looked over at Sparky. They tilted right. Another pinnacle flashed by Sparky’s window. Sparky looked back at it. They rose again.
“These guys are nuts,” shouted Notch.
“Awesome foothills,” yelled Sparky.
“Foot spears is more like it.”
“Check it out,” said Sparky pointing down.
The jagged mountain rim of Seasandia was passing underneath. It reminded Notch of the skeleton of a shark’s mouth, laid wide open, the lower and upper teeth all pointing upward. He looked back at the sea. Rocky spikes rose out of the waves, like dead trees in a wetland. Rollers pounded between them, spewing clouds of foam and mist. I would not like to surf here!
Notch watched the peaks fade away. The craft floated downward. The concave slopes flattened into sandy beaches bordering an inland sea of blue, aqua and purple. Thousands of pink sparkles from the red Snoflian sun flashed across the water.
“It’s beautiful,” said Neff.
“Great vacation spot,” said Sandy.
Notch nodded. Like I said.
“Looks like the Caribbean,” said Sparky, “but redder. I wonder how the water is.” And what’s in it.
The aerosailer gently turned and began a long, easy descent, props intermittently engaging for speed and control.
“Pilots are really good,” said Sparky, looking out.
Hundreds of small islands with sandy beaches dotted the inland sea. Forest green jungles rose from the shores to the islands’ summits, most of which were volcanic cones puffing wisps of smoke.
“What would you choose for a vacation?” asked Notch, “Big beach on the rim, or a tiny beach on an island with its own volcano?”
“I’d take the island,” responded Neff. “Maybe you can come back and check both out.”
“Look,” said Sandy.
An island like a five-pointed star filled her window. Black smoke billowed from a tall crater in its center.
“A smoking starfish,” said Notch.
The nose dipped. The propellers whined. The craft banked. Sparky gazed through the floor window. Two of the island’s five points passed under, the third was just ahead, and further on, a small, round building and a tiny landing strip.
“I see where we’re going,” he said. The aerosailer spiraled downward in ever-tightening arcs. The island rotated through the floor window. Sparky felt dizzy. He raised his head a moment then looked again. “We’re landing on a postage stamp,” he barked. “Going to drop and stop.”
They ceased circling and began to yaw back and forth. “Trying to line us up,” shouted Notch.
“Island breeze,” bellowed Snowy.
The nose abruptly dropped. They dove, picking up speed.
“Come on!” cried Neff, cradling her backpack and shutting her eyes.
“This is the fun part,” said Sparky, the landing area rising rapidly.
Sandy gripped her seat and focused on the ceiling.
Notch spat, “This is no way to fly a helicopter!”
The props flipped to face the ground. The nose and tail rocked back and forth, until the aerosailer finally touched down on the landing mat. It rolled slightly and stopped.
“My stomach,” said Neff. Mollie’s head came from under cover, eyes glazed, breathing like a cat with a hairball. “Let us out first, okay?” shouted Neff.
The back door swung open. Warm, moist air poured in. Neff ran out with Mollie and ducked behind the craft. The others filed out.
A Snoflian was waiting. “Welcome,” he said, smiling. “My name Glynzz. Please wait.” He held up his palm and took Snowy and Grell aside. They spoke quietly.
“What’s the big secret?” whispered Notch. “No more wormhole?”
Neff rejoined the group. “Mollie barfed. She’s better now.”
Notch eyed the Snoflians. Snowy studied the ground, listening. He glanced at the four friends, at Grell, then back at the ground. Glynzz put his hand on Snowy’s shoulder, gave him a pat, then turned toward the building.
Snowy motioned.
“He wants us to go with him,” said Notch.
Glynzz led them through an oval door into a circular space flooded with a soft yellow glow. Round, woven mats with floral patterns, in colors of the spectrum, were spread in a large circle.
Glynzz motioned everyone to sit. The mats were damp from the sea air.
Snowy spoke. “Glynzz wishes me tell you wormwhirl is up near cone. But cone has become active.”
“Does that mean it might blow?” asked Notch.
“Mm. Might. Other problem. Wormwhirl gone rogue.”
“Rogue?” asked Sandy. “What does that mean?”
“Cannot depend on it to do anything.”
“You mean, if we go through,” asked Notch, “it could drop us anywhere, like the Sahara, the Antarctic, or the Amazon?”
“Mm. Or ocean.”
“How do you know it’s gone rogue?” asked Sandy.
“Spins one way, then other way, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes stops. Called spin-switching.”
Just like I saw. Sandy crossed her arms, frowning.
“What makes it switch?” asked Notch.
“Young wormwhirl. Makes mischief.”
“You mean it hasn’t matured yet?” asked Neff.
“Mm. Still testing boundaries. Needs parent.”
“Is there such a thing as wormwhirl parent?” asked Neff.
“Mm. We think so, but never see one.”
“Oh.” Neff became pensive.
“Couldn’t the other end of the wormwhirl still be on Earth, where it has been?” asked Sandy.
“Mm. Could be. No way to tell,” replied Snowy.
“We might have a way,” said Notch. “We know the other end was in the cave after we left. That’s how Sparky’s dad sent the note.”
“This one,” said Sparky. He pulled the USPS envelope from his backpack.
“Where you find?” asked Snowy, reaching for it.
Sparky described his barter with the young Scavenid, now the proud owner of Sparky’s Swiss Army knife.
“We can use the envelope,” said Notch, “to find out if the other end is still in the cave. Whoever sent it through might still be there, waiting for a reply. We can send back our note on their note. If they send another note
back to us, we know we’re good to go.”
Neff asked, “And if they don’t send it back?”
“Then we have to make a decision,” shot Notch. “We better find out quickly. If the volcano is going to blow, the wormhole might leave without us.”
“Let’s get to the wormwhirl,” said Sandy, standing.
Snowy nodded. Glynzz led them out the rear door. Three Snoflians, two males and a female were outside waiting. They spoke briefly with Glynzz, then set out single file, the three Snoflians in the lead, Glynzz next, then Snowy, Notch, Neff, Sandy, Sparky and Grell. They jogged up a winding trail through a fern-filled forest scattered with stubby, palmy trees.
Halfway up, the ground shook.
“Erupting?” asked Notch.
“Not sure,” answered Snowy.
A few minutes and two rumbles later, the Snoflians paused and crouched. A small air bot was whirring above the trees ahead.
“The wormwhirl’s nearby,” whispered Neff.
Notch nodded. How does she know?
The female Snoflian whistled. A small furry animal came running through the ferns, the bot tracking it from overhead. The animal leapt into the female’s arms. She gave it a tidbit and kissed its head.
“A mulgny!” exclaimed Neff.
Mollie’s head popped out from under Neff’s backpack. She sniffed the air, but sneezed.
Smoke. Neff patted her. “Shhh,” she whispered.
Mollie whined as Neff gently pushed her back under the cover.
“Bot and mulgny,” whispered Snowy, “keep things from going into wormwhirl.”
“Why a bot?” asked Notch.
“Bot tell us where mulgny is.”
“So where is the wormwhirl?” asked Notch.
“Behind you,” replied Snowy, nodding.
Notch turned. A light green swirl, nearly transparent and spinning counterclockwise, was swinging like a pendulum between two large palm-like trees. The leaves fluttered each time the swirl came close.
“It looks kind of...mellow,” said Neff.
“Vacation’s over,” said Notch, “Let’s do this.” He whipped off his pack, pulled out a pen and said, “The envelope please.”
Sparky handed him the envelope.
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