The Soldiers of Halla

by D. J. MacHale

“Tell me what happened after you got here,” I asked Mark.

  “We barely got out of the flume before it was crushed under some big, marble building I’d never seen before. I figured it was a new flume on Third Earth until we started exploring. It was the flume in Stony Brook, Bobby. But it wasn’t the Stony Brook we grew up in.”

  I didn’t want to hear those details. I knew they couldn’t be good.

  “The place was deserted, so we made our way toward the city. We found some survivors, and that’s how we found out about the war. That was around three years ago. We’ve been fighting to survive ever since, waiting for something to happen. Or maybe I should say, we were waiting for you to come. Are you serious about the flumes?”

  “Yes. So there are only twenty exiles here on Third Earth?”

  “No. After today we’re down to twelve. I don’t understand it. There are plenty of war survivors, but the Ravinians only target us.”

  “That’s because the exiles are the last thing standing in Saint Dane’s way.”

  Mark gave me a confused look. That made no sense to him, and I wasn’t so sure my explanation would help much.

  We stopped talking for a while as he brought the helicopter in for a landing. We touched down in an empty lot on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. No sooner did we hit the ground than a group of men and woman ran toward us. I tensed up. Were we under attack again?

  “It’s okay,” Mark assured me. “They’re my guys.”

  Mark and I climbed out of the chopper. Not a word was spoken because everyone knew exactly what to do. Four small flatbed dollies were dropped on the ground. Half the group went to one side of the chopper, half on the other. They didn’t even wait until the rotor stopped turning. Everyone lifted the small helicopter up and placed it onto the dollies. Soon we were under way, pushing the helicopter toward the open doors of a derelict garage. Once the chopper was wheeled inside, four more people ran back out to scuff up the tracks from our journey, while the others pushed the huge door shut. The whole operation didn’t take more than a couple of minutes. The helicopter was hidden away, safe from the prying eyes of Ravinians.

  Once the job was done, I turned to look into the garage and saw a half dozen other choppers, along with a number of yellow taxicabs.

  “What do you think of our collection?” Mark asked with a smile. “The choppers are courtesy of the Ravinians.”

  “You stole them?” I asked in surprise.

  “There’s more, too. Hidden all over the city. We’ve been acting like guerrillas since the minute we arrived here, Bobby. We hope to put this stuff to good use someday.” Mark looked me right in the eye and asked, “Is today that day?”

  I debated about how much to tell him. The truth about Halla and Solara was a huge, impossible story. I decided that the details would wait for another time. There were more important things to do. So I told him what I thought he needed to know. We sat on the far side of the garage, away from the others. I knew they’d have a million questions, and they deserved answers, but they would have to wait.

  “This is the deal, Mark,” I began. “Saint Dane and the Ravinians exiled thousands of people. From what I’ve heard and what you tell me, they were sent all over Halla. Those people are now the last hope. The Travelers have been sent back to their home territories to find them. But Saint Dane wants to find them too. Desperately. That’s why he tortured that poor guy today. He’s afraid of you, Mark. I don’t think the turning point on Third Earth was that war. I think it’s you.”

  “Me?” he echoed, shocked.

  “You and all the other exiles. You represent the future of Third Earth and of Halla. That’s why Saint Dane wants you dead.”

  “Why us? What can we do to him? There’s only a handful of us left.”

  “There’s more than that. Way more. Seventy thousand people were dumped into a flume on Second Earth. I was there. I saw it. The exiles are the ones who stood up to Ravinia so long ago, and it’s your collective spirit that’s keeping the battle going. It’s that spirit that Saint Dane wants to kill. You represent independence. Free will. Unique thinking. Everything that goes against his ideal. You and the others are the last positive force in Halla.”

  Mark nodded thoughtfully.

  “You’re getting a little cosmic on me,” he said with a small smile.

  “I know.”

  “Seventy thousand?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Man, I’d love to have half those people here with us. We’ve been coming up with ideas on how to bring down that Ravinian conclave. None of ’em work with a few dozen of us. But seventy thousand…that’s a whole different ball game.”

  “Maybe you’ll get the chance.”

  Mark had a gleam in his eye. He was imagining the possibilities. “There were more exiles on Cloral,” he said. “Do you think the rest could be there?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I’m going to Cloral.”

  “What should we do in the meantime?”

  “Stay alive. That’s the most important thing. Once I know the other exiles are safe, I’m coming back, and we’ll take our last shot at Saint Dane. Together.”

  “There’s something else you have to do,” Mark said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Find Courtney.”

  Courtney. Where could she be? After seeing Mark, I had no doubt that she would still be alive. I had to believe that. If anyone represented the positive spirit of Halla, it was Courtney. Heck, she could probably keep Solara going all on her own.

  “I missed you, man. There were so many times I wished you were with me.”

  Mark and I finally broke down and hugged. He was my best friend. The guy I grew up with. The guy who was loyal to me throughout everything. He was my acolyte. Now he was one of the forces that would try to save Halla. I was certain of that. It was the way it was meant to be.

  “Why did you take so long to come back?” he asked.

  “I didn’t, Mark,” I explained. “I feel as if I’ve only been gone for a short time. Maybe hours.”

  He gave me a confused look.

  “Strange, huh?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “You know something,” I added. “I think that’s good news.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Because I’ve been sent here to Third Earth five years after Patrick’s time. That tells me that the turning point may have shifted. I’m here because I need to be here. Now. I think we’ve still got a chance.”

  Mark nodded thoughtfully. “You gonna explain all this to me a little better some time?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, smiling. “It’ll make your head explode.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s incredible. I know it all, Mark. Everything. And I found my family.”

  “Really!” he exclaimed. “Where are they?”

  “They’re safe, but I don’t want to explain it now. You’ve got enough to worry about.”

  “I’m happy for you, Bobby,” he said with total sincerity. “I know what it’s like to lose your family.”

  “I know you do,” I said. There was nothing more to add, so I stood and took a deep breath. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Better not be another five years,” Mark cautioned.

  “I don’t think that’ll happen. This is where I need to be. This time. I may not be gone very long at all.”

  “However long it takes, we’ll be ready. We’ve been ready for a while.”

  “For what?”

  “To bring down that conclave. That’s what we’re going to do, isn’t it?”

  I laughed. “Listen to you, getting all macho on me.”

  Mark shrugged. “What can I say? I’m ready for this to end.”

  Mark and I hugged one last time.

  “Find them,” he said softly. “And find her.”

  “I will.”

  We pulled apart and he said, “Hey, how are you going to get to Cloral if the flumes are de
stroyed?”

  “I’ll find a way.”

  Mark shrugged and turned toward his friends. If he had looked back at me a second later, he would have been surprised to see that I was no longer there. I had stepped off Third Earth….

  And onto the deck of a burning barge on the territory of Cloral. It took me all of five seconds to realize that it was under attack.

  JOURNAL #37

  14

  I was totally disoriented.

  Fire and screaming and explosions that rock the deck hard enough to knock you off your feet will tend to do that. I thought it was broad daylight, but the sky was dark. That didn’t add up, until I realized I was surrounded by fire. It lit up the world so completely that it seemed like day. Whatever was happening on this barge, it wasn’t good. People ran for cover, desperate to get below, away from the firestorm.

  It had been years since I’d been to Cloral. At the time, it wasn’t on fire, so it didn’t exactly seem familiar. What barge city was I on? Who was attacking? Who were the good guys and who were the bad guys?

  I heard the whistling sound of an incoming missile. But from where? What was the target? Who was firing? I decided not to move, figuring I’d just as likely be running into the missile’s path as getting out of the way. I stood there, closed my eyes, and braced myself. A second later the one small building that wasn’t on fire exploded. The missile hit it dead-on, blowing out windows, shattering glass, and spewing flames from within. It was a good thing I hadn’t run for cover, because if I had, I probably would have gone into that building. Phew.

  It was then that I got my head together enough to remember what Spader had said. He was the first of us to leave Solara and said he had gone to Grallion, and that it was on fire. Was this Grallion? Had I arrived at the same time as Spader? I ran along the deck, between two rows of burning buildings. I needed to get to someplace that would give me a view of the whole barge habitat.

  I dodged several people who scrambled for protection. It was chaos. Nobody seemed to know where to go. When I got to the end of a long line of burning buildings, I found an observation tower that hadn’t been hit. I had to climb. Of course, if it was a target, I’d end up back in Solara. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. But I had to take the chance. I sprinted up the stairs, taking two at a time until I got to a level high enough to allow me an overview of the habitat.

  I was definitely on Grallion. Or a habitat much like it. Grallion was a floating farm. Spread out in front of me were acres and acres of farmland. Half of it was on fire. It was a nightmare. I saw several brave aquaneers and farmers using hoses to try and douse the flames. Buildings could always be rebuilt, but the farms on Grallion provided food for many thousands of people.

  What was happening? Who could be doing this? When I left Cloral, the mythical lost city of Faar had recently risen from the depths of the ocean to become a center for academics and art. On Second Earth, Alexander Naymeer said that Faar was going to become the center for Ravinia on Cloral. Had that already happened? Did this attack have something to do with the Ravinians taking over Cloral?

  Another whistling missile came rocketing in, landing square in the middle of the farm, spewing fire. Burning crops. This kind of weapon was something new to Cloral. When I had been here, they had destructive weapons, but the ammunition was compressed water. Those weapons were destructive, but they didn’t create fire. Whatever these weapons were, they were new. But how new?

  When was I?

  I turned to look in the direction the missile had come from to witness a frightening sight. The tower I was standing on wasn’t too far from one end of the giant barge. From here I could look out over the vast ocean that covered Cloral. The night was clear. The sky was loaded with stars….

  And the sea was loaded with ships. War ships. Grallion was surrounded by a string of midsize ships armed with fixed, lethal guns. Of course I could only see a fraction of these ships from my vantage point, but it was clear that this was where the attack was coming from. The line of marauders was probably half a mile off the habitat, which was plenty close enough for their guns to do some damage. They looked like modern, fast vessels. As I watched, two of the big guns unloaded. The night air was pierced by the shrill whistle. Moments later two more explosions erupted on the farm below me.

  What was the point? Were they trying to sink the habitat? I didn’t think so. The guns were doing some serious damage, but it didn’t seem as if they packed enough power to actually sink an entire floating habitat. I wondered if they were softening up the people to board and take over the barge. During the brief time that I’d been there, I hadn’t seen any fighting actually happening on board. If they were going to board the habitat, it hadn’t happened yet. Which meant one thing: Yet again, I was sent to the right place at the right time. Whatever this battle was about, it would probably play into the overall struggle for Halla.

  I had to find Spader. I was about to start down from the tower when the sky lit up with a massive barrage from the guns. It had to have been coordinated, because it seemed as if every ship had unloaded at once. Over and over again, missiles screamed through the air and impacted on Grallion. It was so loud I thought my eardrums would burst. It suddenly felt like a really dumb thing to be on that tower. I scrambled to get down. All around me, bombs hit. The tower shook. I lost my balance and stumbled down the stairs. Another explosion erupted, and the tower started to go over. I was still ten feet from the deck and had to dive off the tower or I would have been crushed beneath it. I hit dirt, luckily, and rolled. The tower crashed down not far from my head. I was spinning through a world of light, dirt, and ear-shattering noise. All I could do was put my arms over my head, assume the fetal position, and hope that I’d survive the onslaught.

  Suddenly it all stopped. Just like that. Done. The sound of the multiple explosions echoed over the ocean. It was replaced by the sounds of crying and of things burning. I heard the distant sound of people screaming out instructions to one another. I couldn’t make sense of anything, but it was pretty clear that they were scrambling to pick up the pieces and care for the wounded.

  That sound was quickly replaced by another. An amplified voice boomed over the water. It was so loud I had no doubt that every last person on Grallion could hear it.

  “People of Grallion,” the man’s voice boomed. “You are protecting individuals who are guilty of crimes against Ravinia. Harboring fugitives is a capital offense for which the entire population of Grallion will be held responsible. If you do not release the fugitives to us, we will have no choice but to continue our attack with much more drastic consequences. We have the authority, and we will sink this habitat with all on board. There will be no survivors. The choice is yours.”

  Ravinia. It was alive and active on Cloral. That pretty much told me who the good guys and the bad guys were. Question was, who were the fugitives they wanted so badly? Could it be the exiles? Even if it wasn’t, if somebody was an enemy of Ravinia, they were a friend of mine. I had to find them. I pulled myself to my feet. I was wobbly but not hurt. Knowing that the aquaneers ran the habitats, I knew I had to start by finding them. I hoped that Spader would be with them.

  I ran toward the stern of the giant barge. As I got my wits back, I began to recognize some details about Grallion. The burning buildings where I had first arrived were the stores near the aquaneer living quarters. I was sorry to see that square in the middle, nearly gutted by flames, was Grolo’s. It was the tavern where Spader had first introduced me to the strange bitter-sweet drink called “sniggers.” People wearing the familiar, light-colored clothing of Cloral were doing all they could to put out the flames. It was no use. There would be no more sniggers flowing at Grolo’s. My heart went out to these people. I wanted to stop and help, but there was more than a lost tavern at stake.

  My goal was to get to the aquaneer station at the stern of the barge, belowdecks. That was where the defense of Grallion would be plotted. I would have bet anything that Spader was the
re. My route was guided by memory. I soon found a hatch that led below, climbed down the stairs, ran along narrow catwalks, and finally found myself in the large, four-story bay in the stern where the aquaneers docked their skimmers and speeders. The stern of the giant habitat opened out to the sea. Several levels below me I saw dozens of skimmers tied up, bobbing on the water. Looking out onto the ocean, I saw the shadows of the gunboats. They floated like ominous predators, silently waiting to spring on their prey. Two levels up from the water, and one level below me, a ring of aquaneers had gathered. They all wore the black, formfitting swimskins that were the uniforms of the sailors who piloted and protected the habitats. Spader was nowhere in sight, but I was relieved to see someone else I recognized.

  Wu Yenza, the chief aquaneer, was in the center of the action. Yenza looked pretty much the same as I remembered her. Her dark hair was cut very short and practical. Her eyes were focused and intense. She wasn’t that tall, but she was still a physical force. She was the boss. Maybe best of all, she was Spader’s acolyte. She knew about Halla and Saint Dane. She understood the larger context of this battle.

  Unfortunately for her, she was in the middle of an attack, and it wasn’t coming from the Ravinian gunboats out on the sea.

  “Give them up!” a tall, angry aquaneer shouted at Yenza. “You can’t sacrifice the safety of Grallion to protect strangers.”

  “It doesn’t matter if they’re strangers, they aren’t traitors. They’re victims,” Yenza countered.

  “So what?” a woman aquaneer shouted. “Our job is to protect Grallion. How can you justify risking the lives of so many to protect so few?”

  “It’s not just about those few,” Yenza lectured. “It’s about what Ravinia has done to Cloral. Do you think we’re better off now that they dictate our every move? Who’s to say if these people are guilty of anything other than being an enemy of Ravinia?”

  “What if they’re killers?” the woman aquaneer asked.

  Yenza countered, “And what if their only crime is to have opinions that differ from the Conclave of Ravinia? Do you want to be the judge? If we give them up to the raiders, you’ll also be their executioner. Is that what we’ve come to?”