other two choppers, giving me a blimp’s-eye view of Yankee Stadium. Looking down, I saw the area in front of the stage was burning. What seemed like a random fire from ground level looked very different from above. It wasn’t simply burning grass. There was a pattern to the fire. A very distinct pattern. Burning on the field below was the star symbol. The people in the stadium were actually drawn to it out of curiosity. With Naymeer off the stage and the helicopter gone, they must have thought the show was over. I could see them pushing closer to the field from every level, straining to get a look at the burning symbol, as if it had all been some spectacular stunt.
It was spectacular all right. But it was no stunt.
The fire seemed to have a life of its own. Instead of burning out, it flared brighter. This was no ordinary fire. It burned into the ground, sinking lower, eating into the earth. Smoke swirled, nearly obliterating the flames. As if that weren’t impossible enough, the fiery star began to spin. It was as if the symbol were a physical object. Like a demonic dygo, it burrowed into the ground, creating what at first looked like a deep pit. As it dug deeper, I could see there was more to it than that. The spinning star went straight down into the earth, leaving a wall of gray rocks in its wake. It was a sight I knew all too well.
Right there, in the center of Yankee Stadium, a monstrous flume was being born. It was larger than any flume I’d ever seen. The mouth had to be thirty yards wide.
“Quite the show,” came a voice to the rear of the helicopter. It was the red-shirt dado. My antenna went up. Until then, none of the red shirts had spoken. What was different about this one?
I should have guessed. The guard lowered his machine gun, raised his arms, and transformed. Yes, it was Saint Dane. I didn’t react. Nothing surprised me anymore. I was floating through a dream. The demon casually strolled across the cabin and sat down on the far side, making himself comfortable.
“Don’t bother staring at me, Pendragon,” he declared. “The show has only begun.”
What did that mean? I looked back down to see the spinning star was so deep within the flume, it was no more than a pin spot of light. It had burrowed into the depths of infinity. A moment later its light winked out. It was quickly replaced by another type of light. A familiar one. From deep down inside the vertical tunnel, a faint glow appeared. The new flume was coming to life.
Seeing the tunnel activate made me realize what this was all leading to. The demonstration at the conclave the night before was prelude. This was the main event. Whatever happened to Mark and Courtney and the other poor victims was about to be repeated here…times seventy thousand.
I was about to witness the Bronx Massacre.
Saint Dane didn’t even bother to watch. He sat straight, with his arms folded across his chest. “I thought it was quite accommodating of the Foundation to provide us with the opportunity to make this bold statement.”
“What statement?” I spat. “That the Ravinians are mass murderers?”
“The people of Earth made their choice, Pendragon,” Saint Dane said with finality. “They have accepted the Ravinians’ philosophy. Still, there are doubters. The events here today will prove the power of the Ravinians is absolute.”
“You mean you’ll create such fear that nobody would dare oppose them.”
“Yes,” Saint Dane declared. “We’ll then move on to other territories and repeat the process.”
The smoke surrounding the flume began to whirl, creating a tornado-like effect around the mouth of the tunnel. The light from down below grew brighter.
“Fear is such an effective tool, don’t you think?” Saint Dane remarked. “It certainly worked to fill that stadium with thousands of people for this demonstration. Though I suppose the lion’s share of credit belongs to the professor here.”
Professor Gastigian finally stirred. He had been lying on the deck of the helicopter since being thrown inside. I thought he had been too frightened to move. Not anymore. He sat up slowly, looked at me, and smiled. He actually smiled. It was a totally odd reaction. His cause was lost. His movement crushed. His glorious, peaceful demonstration had come crashing down around him. Yet he sat there looking as if it didn’t bother him at all.
I lied before. There were still some things that surprised me.
As he sat on the floor of that helicopter, Professor Haig
Gastigian began to transform. My stomach dropped. The nightmare had gotten worse. Seconds later the professor was gone.
In his place was Nevva Winter.
I fell against the side of the chopper, as if I had been pushed. I had seen many things as a Traveler. None shocked me as much as this.
“Well done, Nevva,” Saint Dane said. “You throw quite a party.”
Nevva stood up and brushed off her pants. She wore a dark suit, much like Saint Dane’s. Her dark hair was as perfect as always.
“Thank you,” she replied. “It really is gratifying when a plan is realized with such perfection.”
“I never doubted it,” Saint Dane replied.
I was spinning out of control. Any sense of reality was long gone. I needed to grab on to something solid or I’d go out of my mind.
“H-How long?” I croaked.
“How long was I Professor Gastigian?” Nevva asked. “About a year. Long enough to use his network to arrange this rally.”
“This was all a setup?” I gasped. “All the speeches against the Ravinians, all the protests, all the interviews- it was just to get these people to trust you so you could lure them here?”
Nevva smiled innocently and nodded.
Saint Dane had done many horrible things. He set tribes against one another. Races against one another. Even criminals against one another. This was the single most heinous act yet. He and Nevva Winter had arranged a coldblooded mass murder, the likes of which never had been i seen anywhere in Halla. Calling them monsters would be a compliment. Together, they were the physical embodiment of evil. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t look at either of them. I turned back toward the window to see the mouth of the flume was glowing. Through the light, I saw the faint hints of the sparkling tunnel walls that had turned to crystal.
It was beginning to pull.
The people felt it. This giant, impossible hole in the center of the field was drawing them toward the edge. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was relentless. The people didn’t realize what was happening at first. They grabbed on to railings; they hugged each other; they clawed at the ground-all to keep from being pulled into the swirling smoke and light. I was grateful for the sounds of the helicopter rotors. It meant I couldn’t hear their screams.
“Nevva, my love!” Naymeer exclaimed.
The old man stepped out of the cockpit. He went right to Nevva with his arms open, as if greeting a long-lost daughter. Or long-lost nanny. Nevva had raised him on First Earth. “This could not have gone better. I trust you weren’t jostled too roughly.”
“Not a bit, Alexander. Congratulations.”
“To us all!” Naymeer declared.
My back was to the fuselage wall. I think I would have fallen over without that support. My heart raced. I was breathing so hard I was hyperventilating. Below us, thousands of people were being pulled to their deaths, and the people up here were chitchatting casually like old chums. I looked sideways out the window to see people being pulled along the grass, digging their hands in, desperately trying to stop themselves. They were going to lose. I saw people tumbling down from the upper decks, falling into the crowd below. Other people hung on to railings, dangling dangerously over the side, as the insistent force kept pulling at them.
Naymeer hurried to the window near me and looked below. He frowned. “Isn’t this over yet?” he grumbled impatiently. “I should be at the United Nations by now. Or the White House. Or anywhere with a camera where I can speak to the world. How long will this take?”
The guy was talking about the terror below as if it were nothing more than a minor annoyance.
“Soon enough, Alexander,” Nevva said with a chuckle. “You always were such an impatient boy.”
“Alexander,” Naymeer repeated thoughtfully. “Such a common name. Perhaps I should be knighted. How does Sir Alexander strike you?”
“If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll have,” Saint Dane assured him. “You deserve nothing less.”
Naymeer smiled, satisfied. He glanced down again and exclaimed, “Look! It’s like they’re being pulled down the drain of a sink. It looks quite silly actually.”
