“Like floating on a cloud,” I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice cracked.
Uncle Press laughed. He knew I was freaked out.
Kalaloo led us out through another long corridor that soon brought us back into daylight. As soon as we stepped outside I looked up to see that we were at the base of Faar’s mountain. It was a pretty majestic sight, this mountain city with the glittering dome covering it.
We hurried along a pathway that led to the large buildings I described to you before. We passed many other Faarians along the way. I couldn’t help but notice that the people down here were moving a little more quickly. Where everyone else was kind of strolling around, enjoying the weird music, these guys down here had jobs to do.
“The mutated crops may be deadly,” Kalaloo explained, “but the cellular change that occurred was a fairly simple one. We have prepared a chemical compound that when spread over the living plants will quickly reverse the process.”
That sounded good, but we weren’t talking about sprinkling plant food on a rose bush. We were talking about thousands upon thousands of acres of farmland. I didn’t care how advanced these guys were, that was a big job.
“How can you possibly spread the chemical over such a vast area?” Uncle Press asked. Great minds think alike. He didn’t believe it was possible either.
“That is the easy part,” answered Kalaloo with a proud smile.
We were now at the door to the large building. Unlike the ancient, marble structures farther up on Faar’s mountain, this building seemed a bit more modern. It reminded me of a big airplane hangar.
When we stepped inside, I saw that my first impression wasn’t far off. It wasn’t an airplane hangar, but it could have been. The space inside was vast. The ceiling was high and there were no walls or partitions to divide up the space. It was just one big garagelike room. But the building itself wasn’t the impressive part. What my eye first went to was every science fiction geek’s fantasy. Since I thought it was pretty cool, maybe that means I’m a science fiction geek too.
Lined up in front of us side by side was a fleet of small submarines. I counted twenty in all. My first thought was that they looked like those helicopters where the pilots sit in big, clear bubbles. They were about the same size and the fronts had similar-looking bubbles. Inside one bubble, I saw seats for two pilots, surrounded by the vehicle’s controls. Attached in front was a long mechanical arm that I guessed must be used for grabbing things, kind of like what they have on the space shuttle. Behind the bubble the body of the submarine was light green, which I figured made it tough to see underwater.
Each sub floated in its own individual pen. I looked below the waterline and saw two large cylinders attached to the bottom of the sub that could only be the engines. Each sub pen had its own big door that I was sure would open when it came time to launch.
The place was pretty busy. Faarians were swarming over the submarines, preparing them for their mission. It looked like they were being fueled up because many of the vehicles had thick hoses attached to the back. These hoses came down from giant bins that were up near the ceiling. But I knew they didn’t need fueling, since they used water for power. I wondered what these snaky tubes were for, but waited for Kalaloo to explain. In all, it was a pretty impressive operation.
“We call them haulers,” Kalaloo said proudly. “They may not look like it, but at full speed they move so quickly they are nearly impossible to see.”
If that were true, then “haulers” was the perfect name because it sounded like they could really haul.
Kalaloo motioned for me to get inside one of the subs. I thought that was cool. The bubble had a door on top that was open, so I slipped down into the pilot’s seat. I felt like I was at the controls of a jet fighter, especially since the main control was a stick near my right hand, just like a jet.
“One pilot drives the hauler,” he continued. “The other navigates, controls the arm, and delivers the cargo.”
“Cargo?” asked Uncle Press.
Kalaloo pointed to the tube that ran from the bins in the ceiling down to the haulers.
“That is the main purpose of the haulers. We have used them to secretly tend Cloral’s underwater farms for generations. The back is a cargo area where we carry seed, or fertilizer, or minerals, or anything else that is needed. Right now we are loading the chemical that will save the mutated crops.”
Now it made sense. The hoses weren’t loading fuel, they were filling up on the chemical that would save the farms. These haulers were like underwater crop dusters.
“How far can they travel?” asked Uncle Press.
“With these twenty vehicles, we can cover all of Cloral,” answered Kalaloo.
That was pretty impressive. These guys knew exactly what they were doing. I was beginning to think they were going to pull this off. If their counteracting chemical actually worked, and I had to believe it would, then they were going to bring Cloral back from the brink of disaster. I couldn’t wait to see these haulers pulling out of their pens and getting on their way.
“When will you be ready to launch?” asked Uncle Press.
“Soon. They are nearly loaded and final repairs are — “
“Press!”
We all looked up to see Spader running toward us. Uh-oh. He was supposed to be on his way to Grallion with Yenza. What was he doing back here? He ran up to us all out of breath and wild-eyed.
“She’s gone,” he said, gulping for air.
“What do you mean gone?” asked Uncle Press calmly. “Is Yenza headed back to Grallion?”
“No. I mean she wasn’t there when I surfaced. Something’s happened to her.”
This was bad. My mind already jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Could Saint Dane have gotten to her? She was tough, but she had been alone up there. She would have been no match for a team of armed raiders. I pulled myself out of the hauler and jumped down between Uncle Press and Spader.
“Do you think Saint Dane got to her?” I asked.
A second later I had my answer, but it didn’t come from Uncle Press. There was a low, far-off rumble. It sounded like an explosion. We all exchanged looks, then Uncle Press turned to Kalaloo.
“Get the haulers outnow!” he shouted.
Kalaloo turned to his team and started barking orders. “Don’t load them all! We have to launch!”
Uncle Press ran for the door. We followed right behind him. The three of us blasted outside just as two more explosions sounded. They were coming from outside the dome. They sounded close, too.
Several Faarians stood still, looking around in confusion. They had never experienced anything like this before. As I looked at their faces, my heart went out to them because I knew it was only going to get worse from here.
“He’s here, isn’t he?” I asked.
“I’m afraid the party just started,” said Uncle Press.
(CONTINUED)
CLORAL
The booming explosions were coming closer. There were more of them now, and it was getting scary. The ground began to shake under our feet with each new blast.
“What is Saint Dane doing?” I asked nervously. “Does he have some kind of depth charges or bombs or something?”
Uncle Press said to Spader, “Did you see anything on the surface? Any ships?”
“No, mate,” Spader answered quickly. “Nothing!”
More explosions followed. Saint Dane was trying to rip Faar apart.
“Bobby,” Uncle Press said. “The Faarians have to get out now.”
“Excuse me?” I said, not sure if I believed what I was hearing.
“They’ve got to get out of Faar. If they stay here, they could die.”
