hangar entrance.
“Go slow,” he said. “Once you grab on to a piece, I’ll pull us back. I gotta be careful though, I don’t want to start kicking up sand or we’ll be blind down here.”
I rubbed my hands together, grabbed the joystick, and made my first attempt. I reached the long arm out and found a small piece of rubble. This was just a test. I maneuvered the hand over the chunk, squeezed the trigger, and the hand clamped on. I then lifted the piece away and dropped it off to the side.
“That was spiff,” said Spader, as if he expected it to be harder.
“Let’s try something a little bigger,” I said with confidence.
I saw a chunk of coral sticking out of the pile. It looked perfect to grab on to. Spader didn’t even have to move the hauler. I eased the arm over toward it and latched on with no trouble. But as I tried to pull back, there was some serious resistance.
“It’s not moving,” I said.
“Let’s use hauler power,” said Spader.
He started to ease the hauler backward, but the piece still wouldn’t budge. Spader hit the throttle, the engines whined, but still the piece wouldn’t budge.
Spader said, “Maybe you should try a smaller — “
Suddenly the piece broke free, and so did the pile of rubble. It seemed as if half the pile had been leaning against this one little piece and when we pulled it loose, it was like pulling a card out from the bottom of a house of cards. Huge pieces of dome tumbled toward us and hit the bubble of the hauler. The impact knocked us back and we twisted over on our side. Then another piece hit us from the other side and spun us back the other way. Sand was swirling everywhere. It was impossible to see. Then with a jolt, we hit the bottom on our side and two more heavy pieces fell down on us. There was nothing we could do but hold our breath and hope we wouldn’t spring a leak. We finally ended up on our side with a bunch of broken dome all over us.
“Wrong piece,” said Spader.
“Yeah, no kidding.”
We didn’t move for a while and let the sand settle so we could see what the deal was. I was convinced we were now pinned here on the bottom of Faar and was already making plans to put on our air globes and abandon ship, when Spader gently gunned the engine. I was thrilled to see we could move. He slowly backed us away from the pile of rubble and let it fall down in front of us. We were completely free now, so Spader righted us and we were hovering once again.
“Let’s pick our pieces a bit more scientifically this time, right?” Spader said.
I gave him a sideways “give me a break” look, then started scanning the pile of rubble to choose my next victim. After what had just happened, it was obvious that this wasn’t going to be a quick task. We were going to have to start at the top and only move pieces that were completely clear. We couldn’t afford to have another collapse. This was going to be like playing a game of Jenga… a reallydangerousgame of Jenga.
So we went about the painstaking task of moving the pile. Of course the little pieces were easy. The bigger pieces took a lot more power. One good thing was that because we were underwater, they were a lot lighter than they would have been on land. Many of these pieces were wide, thick chunks of material that withstood centuries of pressure. We pulled off a few pieces that were bigger than a car. I was afraid those pieces would be too much for the hauler, but the little vehicle proved time and again that it was up to the task.
I don’t know how long we were digging. It could have been hours. I tried to focus on the job and not think about the worst, which was that we were too late for Uncle Press and the Faarians.
Finally, with one final tug from the hauler, we pulled over a huge chunk of dome and revealed the doorway to the hangar.
“Yeah!” I shouted.
“Hobey!” added Spader.
It was unbelievable that we had gotten this far. But our victory celebration was short-lived because almost immediately our thoughts went on to the next step. We had no idea what we were going to find beyond that door.
“Uh-oh,” said Spader ominously.
I hated “uh-oh.” Nothing good ever happened after “uh-oh.”
He pointed to a gash that was cut in the wall that must have been made by a falling piece of dome. The gash was so big, it went right through the wall. That meant that as soon as the rising water got high enough, it would have flooded the hangar. We could only hope that the Faarians had their swim-skins, and that they could buddy- breathe with Uncle Press. If not, the hauler hangar was now a tomb.
Spader gently touched the throttle and the hauler eased closer to the door. I shone the headlight on it so we could see exactly what we had to deal with. The door itself was bent. I hoped that didn’t mean it was jammed or anything.
I reached for the joystick of the mechanical arm and was about to go after the door handle, when something caught my eye. It was a flicker of movement. I quickly looked to see that it had come from the gash in the wall. Something was moving in there! ”Don’t stop now,” said Spader with excitement. He’d seen it too.
I had to force myself to keep calm. We were too close now for me to blow it by doing something dumb. So I slowly moved the mechanical arm over to the handle and grabbed on. I tried to tug it open using just the arm, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Back it up,” I said to Spader.
The engines of the hauler began to whine. But the door still wouldn’t budge. Spader throttled up. I could hear the engines strain, but the door wouldn’t move.
“I’m going to really gun it,” said Spader. “If the door pops, release it quick or — “
Crack!
The door gave way. I instantly released the trigger and we went sailing backward. Spader threw on the water brakes and stopped us before we slammed into anything from behind.
“Go back, go back!” I shouted.
Spader reversed the engines and we moved right back to the hangar and to the now open door. I shone the light on it, hoping that whoever was inside would see it and know that this was the way out. We hovered there, and waited.
“C’mon,” I begged. “C’mon!”
“We saw something move in there, right?” Spader asked.
“Yeah, I thought that — look!”
Something moved inside the open door! I held my breath. Was someone still alive in there, or was it a floating corpse?
Then a Faarian in a green swimskin poked his head out of the doorway. He was alive! He held his hand up to shield his eyes from our bright light and looked around the sunken city in wonder. He then gave a wave, and with a kick, began swimming to the surface.
I couldn’t stop smiling. We had saved at least one of the Faarians, but were there more? And what about Uncle Press?
One by one, more Faarians in swimskins began to float out of the door and swim to the surface. It was kind of eerie. They were like green ghosts floating up and out of a grave. Then again, this wasn’t a grave. This building had saved them from being crushed and drowned — or drowned and crushed. It wasn’t a tomb at all; it was their lifeboat.
I kept waiting to see Uncle Press. Since he didn’t have his air globe, I expected to see him emerge from the doorway while buddy-breathing with one of the Faarians. But after counting fourteen swimmers, there was no Uncle Press. I started to get nervous again. Could all the Faarians have survived because they had swimskins, but Uncle Press have died because he didn’t have the right gear? That wasn’t fair. But still, nobody else was coming out! I was all set to put on my air globe and figure out a way to get out of this hauler to go look for him, when a knock came on the outside of the bubble. I turned to my right and came face-to-face with a Faarian in a swimskin. “Ahhh!” I jumped again.
Since the skins completely covered their heads, they were kind of creepy looking. Imagine Spider-man as a frog, and you’d pretty much have a Faarian in a swimskin.
This guy clung to the bubble of the hauler and was pointing at something.
