The other Travelers are in much the same state of disbelief. We all took up residence here in the Taj Mahal. This is where I’m writing my final journals. We all are. Uncle Press asked that we all take the time to reflect on events and write them down. I’m not sure why that’s so important, other than as a record from ten different points of view. He hasn’t said what’s going to happen to them, but the way
I look at it is, if there is ever any hint of somebody like Saint Dane making rumblings about causing trouble again, maybe our journals will serve as a warning. Learning from the mistakes of the past is a good thing.
So I’m writing. Everything. I can remember it all in such amazing detail. All of it. From when I kissed Courtney in my home on Second Earth to Saint Dane disappearing before my eyes. Maybe that has something to do with the fact that I’m not really human. Maybe I’m somehow channeling the spirits of Solara into my consciousness to bring back every little fact. I wish I knew I had this ability back in algebra class.
Of course, that raises the question that’s on everybody’s mind. Nobody has said it yet. Most of the time we spend reflecting on the past, reliving events, filling in the blanks of what happened to each of us when we weren’t together. Filling out the story. But there is a very big elephant in the room that nobody has dared mention.
What happens to us now?
In my head I’m still Bobby Pendragon from Second Earth. I understand about Solara and the spirit of mankind. It’s true. It’s real. I saw it all. The idea that we Travelers are spirits that were taken from Solara and given physical life to battle Saint Dane makes sense to me. More or less. What I can’t conceive of is a future. Our future. Nobody has brought it up. I’m not sure we’re ready to know. At least, I’m not.
Luckily, there has been enough happening to keep our minds off such cosmic concerns.
The heroic gars returned to Eelong. To Black Water. By joining with the exiles, they exemplified the spirit of Solara and helped save Halla. That was a no-brainer. They belonged on Eelong and were sent back to continue their lives and their fight to gain respect from the klees.
Boon went along with them of course. Eelong was his home. He and Kasha said their good-byes privately. Seeing their tearful farewell made me realize I would soon be in the same position with my own friends. I put it out of my mind. I didn’t want to deal with that until I had to.
More difficult was the issue of what to do with the exiles. These were people who originally came from Second Earth. Many of Mark’s rebels were also from Second Earth. Should they go back?
The answer was a harsh one. No. Uncle Press was adamant. There were no territories anymore, only the seven worlds of Halla. To send those people back in time would once again disrupt the way things were meant to be. Or had become. He said that Halla should rebuild based on the events that had occurred. On all the worlds. There would be no more traveling. No more interference from Solara. He said that the natural order had been restored, and sending those people to the past of their own world with the knowledge they had of the future would be wrong.
Many discussions took place with the exiles and the leaders they had chosen. They were divided. Some wanted to return, others understood that it would be disruptive. In the end they agreed to start a new life in the future of the world to which they had been born.
Once that decision was made and accepted by all, the flume was destroyed. Using explosives taken from the Ravinian armory, the final tunnel through time and space was buried. Forever. There would be no others.
I’m happy to say that the Ravinians welcomed the exiles with open arms. They had been living in a gilded cage. Few were allowed to leave the conclave, and when they did, it was usually to travel to another conclave. Now the entire world was open to them. It was a thrilling concept. The exiles would be spread among many conclaves that had been built worldwide. From these centers, a new civilization would grow. Like Halla, Earth had been reborn.
There was no way of knowing what was happening on the other territories. At least, not yet. I assumed that once we returned to Solara and became part of the spirit, we’d be able to witness events all over Halla. Not participate in them, but witness them and offer the kind of gentle guidance that was the essence of Solara. I still didn’t know exactly how that would work, but I believed we would all know soon enough. I also believed that with Saint Dane’s influence gone, the hold that the Ravinians had on all the various societies across Halla would weaken and eventually crumble. The positive spirit of mankind was too strong to allow Ravinia to keep its grip. There was no telling how long it would take on each territory, but after seeing what happened here on Earth, I had no doubt that the days of Ravinia were numbered, and each world would eventually return to its normal path. The way it was meant to be. All these broad-stroke decisions made full sense to me. I accepted them and encouraged them. Where it got difficult was when it became personal.
What was to become of Mark”and Courtney?
If our theory about not sending the exiles back in time was correct, the same would have to apply to Mark and Courtney. As much as it killed me, I agreed with the decision. I was so incredibly proud of these guys. From day one they embraced every challenge that was thrown at them. That I had thrown at them. Now that the battle was won, they didn’t stop. They had both been working very hard to act as ambassadors. Mark knew the rebels. Courtney knew the exiles. Together they worked to bridge the gap between them and help them become one. Their knowledge of these newcomers put them in the perfect position to do the same with the Ravinians. They were the liaisons. They were incredible. I loved these guys, which made it hard to tell them the truth.
It happened one night after dinner. The Ravinians had prepared a great thank-you feast that was attended by Mark, Courtney, Uncle Press, and me. It was in the Taj Mahal, of all places. It was kind of funny, actually. The Ravinian hosts weren’t the greatest cooks. The had always relied on dados to do their grunt work… or non-Ravinian slaves. But they were determined to do the right thing and insisted on cooking. Most of the food tasted like shoes, but it didn’t matter. The thought was there.
Afterward I sat with Mark and Courtney, just the three of us, on the pedestal that held the throne Saint Dane had built for himself. Mark ran his hand over the elaborate gold carvings and said thoughtfully, “In the end he became the kind of person he had such disdain for. Self-centered. Shortsighted. Selfish.”
“He was that way from the start,” Courtney offered. “He just didn’t see it.”
I added, “I really think in the beginning he believed he was doing the right thing. I mean, he was a spirit of Solara. He was created by man.”
“Yeah,” Courtney shot back. “So was Frankenstein’s monster, and we know how that turned out.”
“I guess,” I said. “I just can’t help thinking that something went wrong. He should have been stopped early on. Which makes me think, could it happen again?”
“Who knows?” Mark said.
Courtney added, “You will, Bobby. Once you return to Solara.”
She had raised the topic I had been avoiding. I hated thinking about it and what it meant.
“And while we’re on the issue of what’s to come,” Courtney said, “what’s going to happen to Mark and me?”
Which, of course, was the other topic I hated thinking about. Leave it to Courtney to put it right out there. I didn’t answer right away. I wanted to choose the right words and have it make sense. I wanted to make it easier on them. They were my friends. They helped save Halla. They deserved every ounce of respect and consideration I could give them.
“We’re not going home, are we?” Courtney asked.
Or there was that way.
I still had trouble finding words. How could I possibly-, tell them that after all they had been through, they had to live the rest of their lives in a strange future, away from their families and the life they loved so much? It wasn’t fair.
“No” was the best word I could come up with.
The three of us sat on the top step of the platform.
“It’s okay, Bobby,” he said soothingly. “We already figured it out.”
“Yeah,”. Courtney added, “blowing up that flume was a dead giveaway.”
“The worlds have to remain separate,” I said. “There’s no more traveling. Saint Dane interfered in the natural evolution of Halla and nearly brought it all down. We have to make the choice now that it can’t happen again.”
“There’s going to be a problem,” Courtney said.
“What?”
“I’ve got a library book that’s been overdue for about, oh, three thousand years. Who’s going to pay that fine?”
