Red ones. Cannibals. Nasty characters.”
“I haven’t heard of these tribes,” Bokka said.
“That’s okay,” I said. “We haven’t heard of you either.”
“But you’re dressed as a Rokador,” the guy next to Bokka said. “Why is that?”
“This is Teek,” Loor said, changing the subject. I’m happy to say he didn’t put out his hand to shake. One bone crusher was enough. “Ask him to show you the scar from when he was bitten by a zhou beast.”
“Loor!” Teek said, complaining. “Won’t you ever forget that?”
Bokka laughed. Loor chuckled too, and said, “When we were young, a small ceegee bug crept into his bunk while he was asleep. It nipped him and he jumped up shouting ‘Zhou! Zhou!’ The scar is quite impressive… if you look closely enough.”
Loor and Bokka chuckled. Teek looked embarrassed, but smiled. “I had been dreaming of a zhou. You would have done the same thing.”
Teek wasn’t upset. He took the goofing good-naturedly. This was all one big touchy-feely reunion. The whole thing had me off balance. I’m not sure why it struck me as odd at that moment that I could understand these guys and they understood me. Part of the benefit of being a Traveler is that we hear all languages as our own, and others hear us as if we were speaking their language. I guess maybe that still seems like magic. But it always works, so I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. Much.
Bokka said, “You did not tell us why you are dressed as a Rokador, Pendragon.”
Loor answered for me. “With his white skin, we decided it would be better for him to dress as a Rokador, in case he ran into fierce Tiggen guards, like you.”
Bokka nodded. He bought it.
“You have such light skin,” Teek said. “Do you live underground too?”
Loor jumped in, trying to get control of the situation before I said something else stupid. She said, “The tribe known as-“
“Yankees,” I reminded her.
“Yes, Yankees, lives on the surface in a forest of many trees that block the sun. That is why his skin is lighter than the Batu.”
“Yes, it’s a forest called the Bronx,” I threw in. Why not? It wasn’t like he was going to prove me wrong.
“Pendragon is a wise tribe member,” Loor continued. “He has traveled here to help us.”
Bokka looked me up and down, sizing me up.
“Can you fight?” he asked.
“The idea is to try and solve your problems without fighting,” I said.
“If you can do that,” Bokka said, “then you have more wisdom than anyone around here…from either tribe.”
I didn’t know how I felt about this guy. I guess I should have been saying that any friend of Loor’s was a friend of mine, but if I were being totally honest, I didn’t like the way they were being so chummy. Loor and I may not have known each other since we were little kids, but we had been through a whole lot together. You would think that facing death while trying to save everything that exists would have brought us a little closer together than two people who played ring-around-the-rosy when they were kids… or whatever it is they play here. Loor treats me like I’m some kind of business partner. That was okay, I didn’t think she had more warmth in her than that…until I saw her with Bokka. She never let her guard down with me like that. And he was a Rokador! An enemy of the Batu!
“Have you discovered anything?” Loor asked Bokka, changing the subject.
“Nothing,” he answered. “Except that the Tiggen guards have been put on alert. The Rokador elite are expecting the Batu to attack at any time.”
“But what of the rivers?” Loor asked. “Has there been any explanation from the Rokador elite?”
“Same as always,” Bokka answered. “They blame the drought on lack of rain in the north-where the rivers are fed. I have tried my best to find out more, but with no luck.”
“Uhh,” I interrupted. “What exactly are you talking about?”
Loor explained, “As you know, the Rokador live underground and control the rivers of Zadaa. For generations they have worked with the Batu, channeling the water between the different rivers to ensure it flows to where it is needed most. It is a valuable service that they provide for the Batu.”
“But we do more than that,” Bokka added. “The Rokador are manufacturers. In our factories we create clothing and weapons and building materials and most everything needed for our own survival…and for the Batu’s survival as well.”
“That is true,” Loor said, sounding a little defensive. “In return the Batu grow crops and tend livestock to feed both tribes. We also protect the Rokador from the wild tribes of the desert and the zhou beasts and snakes you’ve seen. Without the Batu, the Rokador would perish.”
“Without the Rokador, the Batu would live like primitives,” Teek threw in.
Loor quickly shot back, “We are a warrior race that does not shy from life by cowering beneath the ground.”
“You’re a crude people with no modern skills,” Bokka said quickly. “Look at your ancient weapon, and look at mine.” He held up his shiny, steel baton. “This is the product of an advanced race of modern thinkers.”
He and Loor exchanged cold looks. They seemed ready to start throwing fists.
“Sandworm!” Loor threw at him.
“Barbarian!” Bokka shot back.
The two glared at each other intensely, then broke out laughing. I’m serious. Loor actually laughed!
“We have argued like this since we were young,” Loor said.
“The truth is,” Bokka said, “both tribes need each other.”
These guys were having a little bit too much fun. I was feeling like an outsider, but I couldn’t let that get in the way of our mission.
“So if they need each other so much, why is everybody worried about a war?” I asked.
“There’s always been tension,” Teek said. “But since the rivers began to run dry, the tension has turned into suspicion, and anger and fear. It has now given way to outright hatred.”
Loor said, “The Batu are accusing the Rokador of holding back the water until we are so weakened that they will rise up from their underground home and seize control of Xhaxhu.”
“But why would they do that, if everything was going so well?” I asked.
“To put it simply, we are running out of space,” Bokka said. “Our way of life is simple. We have always lived below ground. But as our population grows, that is becoming more difficult. The fear among the Rokador is that if we try to venture aboveground, we will be treated as inferiors and forced to live like animals.”
“They aren’t wrong,” Loor said. “Many Batu would treat the Rokador badly. But the royal family of Xhaxhu understands their plight. Our prince, Pelle a Zinj, has made it his goal to convince our people to accept the Rokador as equals.”
“But not everybody agrees,” I stated.
“That is correct,” Loor said. “What is the saying you use? It is a no-win situation. Many of the Batu will not accept the Rokador, and now they fear that the Rokador are holding back the water.”
“In return,” Bokka said, “the Batu have stopped providing us with food from the surface. We are starving.”
“And we are thirsty,” Loor said.
“So what’s the deal with the water?” I asked. “Are the Rokador holding it back?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Bokka answered. “I’ve heard rumors that there is something dramatic about to happen, but I cannot find out what it might be.”
“And with each passing day, the danger of war grows stronger,” Loor said somberly.
“So, Pendragon of the Yankees,” Bokka said. “Do you still feel as if you can help us prevent this catastrophe?”
I didn’t like the way he said that. It was all sorts of smug, as if he knew darn well I had no clue of how to keep these two tribes from killing each other. Unfortunately he was right. I didn’t.
“I’ll get back to you on that,” I said.
“I am torn, Bokka,” Loor said. “If the Batu are going to attack, I want to warn you. But then it would mean
