“How so?” Mark asked.
“I took me nearly a day to find it,” Patrick explained. “I just had my memory of being on Second and First Earth to go on. I figured the gate looked something like this, only derelict, like the rest of Third Earth.”
“It didn’t?” Courtney asked.
“No. If it weren’t for my ring glowing, I never would have found it. The flume was under a collapsed building. It wasn’t underground.”
“You mean it was out in the open?” Courtney asked, incredulous.
“No, but it seemed as if at some point it had been unearthed, and the only thing covering it was the wreck of the building.”
“What do you think that means?” Mark asked.
Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know. But I think we’re going to have to find out.”
A few minutes later Mark, Courtney, and Patrick stood in front of the flume beneath the streets of the Bronx. They stood shoulder to shoulder, staring into the dark tunnel.
“Last thoughts?” Mark asked.
He looked at Courtney. Courtney gave a shrug and said, “This has been coming for a long time. At least the wait is over.”
Mark looked to Patrick, who was staring into the depths of the flume. Mark thought that he looked pale. “You okay?” Mark asked.
“I may be the Traveler here,” Patrick said with a shaky voice, “but you two have been through a heck of a lot more than I have.”
Courtney gave him a friendly punch in the arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you through this.”
Mark added, “And who’s gonna get us through this?”
“Still working on that one,” Courtney said. “Let’s go home.”
Patrick stood up straight and called out, “Second Earth!”
The flume came to life. The three didn’t budge as they waited to be swept away.
“I wish Bobby were here,” Courtney whispered to Mark.
And they were off.
JOURNAL#33
IBARA
Ihope you’ll read this one day, Mark. Courtney too.
I know that’s probably impossible. Still, I’m going to continue writing these journals as if I’m writing them to you. It helps me feel that we’re not so far apart. Even if I’m pretending. It’s hard to accept that we may never see one another again, though it’s even harder to imagine how we ever could. The gate to the flume is buried under a mountain of volcanic rock. The second gate in Rubic City is just as inaccessible under the wreckage of the destroyed buildings. Bottom line? I’m not leaving this territory.
Then again, neither is Saint Dane.
I don’t know if that’s the way it was meant to be, but that’s the way it is. Halla is safe, and for that I don’t regret anything I’ve done.
But don’t get all “poor Bobby” on me. I’m okay. Seriously. I’m happy. Maybe happier than I’ve been since I left home with Uncle Press. Let me fill you in on some of the major things that have happened since I sealed the flume. I have to tell you, it’s all good.
Well, mostly good. There is one significant problem that I’ll tell you about. In time. I first want to tell you how great things have become.
As I wrote before, the village of Rayne was devastated by the dado battle. Or maybe I should say it was destroyed by the tak. Surveying the carnage, it really gave me second thoughts as to whether it was all worth it or not. Most of the village was devastated. Homes were lost. Common structures were leveled. Food supplies were obliterated. People had to sleep out in the open. There were a few tropical storms that came through, making it all the more miserable. It wasn’t a fun time.
Still, the village survived. Ibara survived. That’s the most important thing. No, the most important thing is that Saint Dane lost this territory. He threw everything he had at us, and we stopped him. His plan for creating the dados that began with weaseling his way into your life, Mark, was for naught. I’m not proud of what we had to do to stop him. Mixing the territories the way we did was a risk, but I didn’t see any other way. I think the results proved it was the right move. Not only did we stop his attack on Ibara, I was able to trap him here. Saint Dane has been shut down. End of story. End of his quest to control Halla. If the price for that was the destruction of Rayne, I don’t think it was such a bad deal.
Of course the people of Rayne didn’t know the grander importance of their victory. All they had was a village left in ruins and a big job ahead. No, a huge job. It wasn’t just about the rebuilding of Rayne, but the re-creation of a culture and, hopefully, an entire world. For me it was also about the rebuilding of a territory. Of Veelox. Yup, my plan is to complete Aja Killian’s vision. When Saint Dane influenced the Flighters into destroying the pilgrim ships, he thought he was finishing off this world for good. He was wrong. The spirit to restore life here is greater than ever. I’m proud to say that I’m part of it.
Rebuilding an entire world can’t happen overnight. One step at a time, and that first step was to begin the reclamation of Ibara and the village of Rayne. After the dust (and the sand) settled from the battle, there was jubilation. I guess that’ll happen when you defeat an army against all odds. There was a moment of absolute euphoria. Or maybe it was just relief. Whatever. There were a lot of smiles and shouting and hugging. It got even better once the older people and the very young returned from the far side of the island, where they had been taken to ride out the battle.
It wasn’t all happy happy, joy joy though. Many people died to defend Rayne. Once the rush of victory subsided, reality crept in. The burial of the dead began the slow process of dealing with it. Remember, until the sinking of the pilgrim ships, most of these people didn’t know about Ibara’s history. They didn’t know about Rubic City and Lifelight and the fact that their island world began as a secluded outpost, protected from the technology that had decimated the larger world. Veelox. It was a lot to get their heads around in a pretty short time. The joy of having survived the attack was soon replaced by a numbing fear of the unknown. What would happen next?
It was up to the tribunal, the leaders of the village of Rayne, to guide the healing process. I’m honored to say that Genj, the chief minister of the Rayne tribunal, asked me to help them. Me. Can you believe it? I guess it’s not so far fetched. Between Alder and Siry and myself, we led the village to victory. To be honest, it was more Alder than myself, but afterward Alder wasn’t around. Neither was Siry.
That took a little bit of explaining. I couldn’t exactly tell the tribunal that I had sent Alder to Quillan to return some dado-killing weapons and Siry to Zadaa to return the dygo digger and then I sealed the flume by exploding the final bit of tak to make sure two more Travelers weren’t trapped on this territory. That wouldn’t have gone over so well. I decided to pretend I didn’t know what happened to them. They became casualties of war. Heroes. Especially Siry, since he was the son of Remudi, a former member of the tribunal. The idea that Siry had grown up as a rebellious outlaw, but turned it all around to help save his home, made him a legend. It’s too bad he couldn’t be around to appreciate it, but it’s better that two more Travelers weren’t trapped. I hope someday he’ll forgive me.
If you remember, the tribunal was made up of Genj, the older guy with the short graying hair, who was so tan he reminded me of a sea captain; Moman, a serious, dark-skinned woman who chose her words carefully and always spoke with wisdom; and Drea, who was full of enthusiasm and joy. She was probably older than my mother, but her light skin, freckles, and long curly red hair made her seem like a kid. These were the people who had the task of putting Rayne back together.
Them…and me. A stranger to the island who tried all that he could not to reveal his true past. These people had enough to deal with. They didn’t need to hear about Travelers and Saint Dane and the battle for Halla. Still, questions were asked. People wanted to know about Rubic City and Lifelight. I more or less played dumb. It was up to the tribunal to educate them about their history. When questions came up about the dados, I planted the idea
