“Or we can shut it down for good,” I said.
“We cannot shut down an ocean,” Loor countered.
“But we can make it so nobody else can take over.”
“You mean destroy the controls?” Loor asked.
“If a slew of Tiggen guards comes crashing in here, we’re done,” I said. “But if the controls are smashed, it might slow them down long enough for the Ghee warriors to arrive.”
“That is risky,” Loor said. “We do not know anything about this-“
At that very moment we saw something that made the decision for us. High above on the catwalk, Tiggen guards began flooding in from both sides. Our Tiggen friend who we’d left up there never got the chance to seal off the doors. The guards had a long climb down tall ladders before they would reach us, but they were on their way. We could put up a fight, but there were too many of them. They would quickly win back the control panel and turn it back over to the engineers to do their wet work.
Loor looked at the long line of small silver handles, took her Rokador baton, slipped it through a handle…and yanked. The silver handle popped off like the cap of a soda bottle. She looked at me and smiled. I took my Rokador baton and did the same thing. It felt good. The two of us quickly worked to break all the smaller handles off the panel, hopefully making it useless, at least for a while.
The Tiggen guards were halfway down the ladders to the floor. By the time they got to us, our work would be done.
One of the engineers down on the floor must have seen what we were doing. He left the elite and ran back to the bottom of the platform, shouting, “No! Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
Yes we did. In no time, all the small handles that controlled the southern gates were gone.
“Is that enough?” Loor asked.
“Let’s make sure,” I said.
I picked up my wooden stave and began smashing the gauges. It sure felt good. Loor joined me. Together we totally trashed the controls.
“Stop! Ibeg you!” the engineer screamed as he climbed back up the ladder. Soon all four engineers were back on the ladders, headed up onto the platform. Their fear was gone. At least their fear of us, anyway. By the time they reached us, the controls were useless.
“There you go, Poindexter,” I said. “Try to flood the underground now.”
“Don’t you see?” he cried. “That is exactly what you have insured!”
Huh? Two of the engineers ran to the controls on the other side, the side that controlled the northern gates. They tried to move the larger handles, but they wouldn’t budge. They checked the gauges and gave a grim look back to the first engineer.
“We have never opened every gate to the north,” the first engineer explained frantically. “But it was the only way to carry out the plan. Now they cannot be closed again.”
“Why not?” I asked, not liking where this was going.
“It is the immense pressure!” the engineer said. “It would only be relieved once the gates to the south were opened. The timing had to be precise. After what you have done, the gates to the south cannot be opened in time.”
“Exactly!” I said. “So the Batu are safe.”
“But they aren’t!” he exclaimed. “Now the pressure in the ocean will build until it collapses the southern gates anyway. But not before Kidik Island sinks under the rising waters. You haven’t saved the Batu-you’ve doomed both tribes!”
JOURNAL #23
(CONTINUED)
ZADAA
Proofof what the engineer predicted came quickly. The powerful hum that filled the room grew even louder. The lights on the control panel starting going haywire. I heard hissing sounds coming from somewhere. It sounded like incredible pressure was building up inside the vertical steel tanks, which is exactly what was happening. An alarm sounded. It was a blaring horn that warned of disaster.
We backed away from the controls to let the engineers try to reverse the damage.
“It is futile!” the one engineer exclaimed. “We have no control.”
A quick look to the Tiggen guards who were climbing down the ladders showed that they had changed their minds. Rather than streaming down the ladders to stop us, they realized what was happening and had changed direction. They were now desperate to climb back up and get the heck out of there.
“What is happening?” came a voice from below. It was the older guy from the Rokador elite. The one who had questioned Saint Dane’s plan. He was joined by the others, who no longer wanted to be hiding in the corner anymore, or be anywhere near there for that matter.
“Get out now!” the engineer called down to them. “We can no longer control the waters.”
The Rokador elite all stood there, not believing. The statement the engineer had made was a bold one. Controlling the water is what the Rokador did best. It didn’t make sense to them that it was no longer within their power. Controlling the water was going to be their salvation, not their destruction. At least that’s what they thought. Any doubt they had was blown away a second later. Literally. The joints of the giant pipe beneath the control platform were held together by massive bolts. There was a huge hissing sound, then a loud pop. One of the bolts had blown out. It shot across the room like the cork out of a champagne bottle. It nailed one of the steel tanks with a loudclang, putting a huge dent in it. If it had hit somebody, they’d be history. The seam it came from was now tearing open, spewing out a stream of high-pressure water.
The place was coming apart.
The elevator doors opened, and Alder ran out.
“The elevator!” screamed the elderly drooling guy, who had finally woken up. The ten Rokador elite charged for the elevator in a panic. The older people didn’t even help the little kids. They pushed the little ones aside to get in the elevator first. They were followed by the engineers, who were just as eager to get out of there. There was a definite “abandon ship” vibe. The engineers slid down the ladders and ran to the elevator, but they were too late. With plenty of room left, the elite closed the door on them, leaving them to wait for the next ride. Nice guys to the end.
Alder quickly joined us at the control panel. “What happened?” he asked, wide-eyed. “The ocean is rising.”
“Because it’s got nowhere to go,” I said. “Let’s hope we do.”
“The ladders,” Loor yelled. “I do not trust the elevators.”
The three of us ran for the giant ladders that led up to the catwalk. There were two. Loor jumped on one and climbed quickly. I was right beneath her. Alder took the other one. It was a hairy climb. Through the metal rungs I could look back into the master control room. More seams popped open. The pressure must have been monstrous. Water sprayed everywhere, making the rungs slippery. I felt like we were in the bowels of a huge ship that was going down fast. There was no question, their machinery was not built to withstand this kind of pressure. The underground worked on hydropower. There must have been pipes snaking all over the place. This room was what controlled the flow. If this room collapsed, there would be nothing to hold back the water, anywhere. The Rokador world could explode from the inside out.
I focused on climbing. It didn’t do any good to think about the fact that when we got out of there, we would still be miles below the surface, in the middle of the maelstrom. We had to take one step at a time. We all made it to the catwalk, where a quick check showed us that our Tiggen friend was indeed dead. I bowed my head quickly out of respect.
“We must keep moving, Pendragon,” Loor said.
Of course we did. But to where?
