shock. That’s the only way to explain how I could keep going without being crushed by the events we had witnessed. We were traveling downtown into Manhattan. With each stop, the subway car took on more passengers. I didn’t know what to do. After having bounced around between territories for so long, it was a strange feeling to be home and not know where to go. I had to think, but the memory of Courtney and Mark being tossed into the flume kept invading my head. If nothing else, I swore to myself that I would find out what happened to them.
The train made a stop at a busy station. I didn’t know which one. The platform was crowded and people jockeyed to get off and on before the doors closed. At the far end of the subway car, I saw a cop get on. A regular old New York City cop. Nothing strange about that, except that he seemed to be looking for something. Or someone. Or two someones… us. That wasn’t the worst part. The cop wasn’t alone. With him was a Ravinian red shirt. They were both searching the faces of the people on the subway car. That meant the Ravinians and the New York City police force were working together. The implication was huge. The Ravinians were already working their way into positions of power with the government.
“We gotta go,” I whispered, and pulled Alder toward the door. The bell rang. The doors began to close. I threw my arm out and pushed the sliding doors back open. There was no way I’d let us get trapped on a moving train. We weren’t going to make it that easy for them. It was my turn to get Alder through the crowd. We couldn’t be as bold as we’d been in the Bronx. We didn’t want to attract attention. We were being hunted by the Ravinians and now the police. We were fugitives here, just as we were in Stony Brook. It was going to be easier melting into Manhattan than the suburbs, but still, eyes were everywhere. We were going to have to find somewhere safe to hide.
I led Alder up and out of the crowded subway station, to discover we were in the middle of busy Times Square. Alder finally balked. I guess being bombarded by the lights and sounds of one of the busiest intersections in Halla was a little much for a knight from a primitive village. He stood frozen, staring up at the noisy spectacle. I didn’t push him. The chances of us being seen by the police were slim. The sidewalks were packed with tourists. No way we’d stand out.
At least that’s what I thought, until my eyes settled on the giant video screen that loomed over the crossroads.
“Pendragon, it is you,” Alder said with surprise. He saw it too.
It was a still picture of me that must have been taken from the surveillance cameras at the Sherwood house. It was a grainy blowup of a video freeze-frame, but it was definitely me. As stunning as that was to see, the words superimposed under the picture were even worse. Beneath my admittedly guilty-looking face were the words “ROBERT PENDRAGON — SUSPECTED DOMESTIC TERRORIST.”
It was a news report. A warning. There was no sound, but the words that ran along the bottom of the screen saidit all.”
WANTED IN CONNECTION WITH ATTACK ON RAVINIAN CONCLAVE. EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. IF SIGHTED, DO NOT APPROACH. CONTACT POLICE.”
My picture was replaced by another. Alder’s. Alder gasped. It was also taken from the surveillance footage. Similar words crawled beneath his picture, warning people to contact the police if these two dangerous terrorists were sighted. The feeling was hard to describe. We were standing in the middle of a thousand people, yet I suddenly felt alone. Naked even. It was like one of those dreams where you find yourself out in public in your underwear. Only we were being accused of a lot more than walking around in boxers. I was a fugitive in my own home.
“They are hunting for us,” Alder said in a small voice that was not like him.
“It’s worse than that. It means they’ve gotten to the media. There’s no report about a dozen people disappearing in the Bronx, only about us. The Ravinians’ influence is everywhere.”
“Then we are truly too late,” Alder said, defeated.
The image of Alder on the giant screen was replaced by another. It was the man we had seen on TV that morning in Naymeer’s office. Again there was no sound to the report, only words that crawled across the lower part of the screen. He was identified as: “HAIG GASTIGIAN — NEW YORK UNIVERSITY.”The scrolling
words read: “PROFESSOR CONDEMNS IMMINENT UNITED NATIONS DECISION. CALLS FOR WORLDWIDE PROTEST AGAINST ALEXANDER NAYMEERAND THERAVINIANS.”
“Maybe not,” I said. “That guy’s the leader of the opposition. What’s it called? The ‘Founding’? No, the ‘Foundation.’”
“What about him?”
“He may be the only person with any power who’s left on our side.”
An hour later Alder and I arrived in Washington Square Park at the bottom of Fifth Avenue. We walked the whole way, for fear of being spotted on the subway. The park was the center of New York University, the college where Gastigian was a professor. It was pretty simple to find him. I looked in the white pages of a phone book. Duh. There weren’t a whole lot of Haig Gastigians listed. In fact there was only one, and it was in Greenwich Village, near the university. The address was on Sullivan Street, a quiet, tree-lined street of brownstones. Finding the address was easy. Getting to see Gastigian wasn’t. I knew we had come to the right place when we turned onto Sullivan Street and saw a group of scary-looking guys camped out in front of Gastigian’s address under a streetlight.
“Guards,” Alder said, reading my mind.
“Smart move. It’s not healthy to mess with the Ravinians.”
We saw more men stationed at every street corner, watching for trouble. They were ordinary-looking guys, but not the kind you’d want to mess with. They were big and they were serious. They must have heard what had happened at the Ravinian compound. These guys looked like the type to want revenge.
“Act unintimidating,” I said as we walked toward the building.
“How do I do that?”
“Smile and don’t take a defensive stance.”
“What if they attack us?”
“Let them.”
We had only gone a few steps whenIsensed that we were being followed. I didn’t have to turn around to know there were a couple of big goons shadowing us. I was pretty sure that Gastigian didn’t have high-tech surveillance cameras like Naymeer, but his security was just as effective. Before we could step up to Gastigian’s door, a ring of thugs closed around us.
“Remember,” I whispered. “Unintimidating.” Alder put on a totally false smile that looked more creepy than friendly.
“Lose the smile,” I said quickly. “Just don’t hit anybody.”
“CanIhelp you fellas?” said one of the larger characters, who stood between us and the door.
“We’d like to see Professor Gastigian,” I said in my most polite voice.
Two other thugs joined the first. They exchanged looks. It was pretty clear that they had no intention of letting us see him.
“Really?” the first guy said sarcastically. “What for?”
“We have information about the Ravinians he’ll want to hear” was my honest answer.
The thugs exchanged looks again. They didn’t look like rocket scientists. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
“Tell you what,” the guy said while pressing closer. He had to be six inches taller than I was, which made him even taller than Alder. I stood my ground and hoped that Alder wouldn’t pop him. “Make an appointment. The professor’s a busy guy.”
“I’m Bobby Pendragon,” I blurted out.
The guards looked at me blankly.
I took a breath and added, “We’re the ones who attacked the Ravinian conclave tonight.”
The big guy raised his eyebrows in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead we heard a man’s voice coming through the security speaker in the door. “Send them up.”
Apparently Professor Gastigian had electronic eyes and ears after all.
Professor Haig Gastigian lived in a simple, neat apartment that had a cool view of Washington Square Park. It was exactly the kind of place I expected a professor of philosophy to live. It was small and full of books. Alder and I had to move several volumes off the couch so we could sit.
