The Lost City of Faar (34 page)

“This is going to sound horrible,” I continued, “but you have to abandon Faar.”

His eyes snapped open and he shot a look at me like I had just slapped him across the face.

“I don't think he's going to stop until this place is rubble,” I added.

“This is our home,” he said defiantly. “It is the home of our ancestors. We will not leave our home.”

I knew exactly what it was like to be asked to leave home, but I didn't want to go down that road with him.

“I know, it's a horrible thing,” I said, trying to sound reasonable. “But if your people stay here, they might die.”

“And what if this attack is unsuccessful?” he asked.

“Then they come back,” I answered quickly. “Simple as that.”

Two more explosions rocked the dome. The old man lost his balance, but I grabbed his arm and held him up before he could spill. The council members fell silent. That last jolt was pretty hairy.

“I don't think there's much time,” I said.

The old man looked at me. I saw the pain in his eyes. He had made his decision. He stood tall and walked back into the council meeting. All eyes were on him. No one said a word. He walked directly to the center of the circle and addressed the crowd.

“It is time to act,” he said.

He then knelt down to the floor and lifted up a piece of tile. He reached into the space that the tile had covered, and he must have turned a switch or pushed a button or something because the floor began to move. A two-foot-round section of floor rose up and up and up until it became a podium in front of the old man.

The council members watched in awe. Some whispered to each other, but most just stared. I had no idea what was going on.

The podium looked like some kind of control panel. There were four chunks of crystal on top that were about the size of baseballs. One was clear, another green, a third yellow, and the fourth was reddish.

“We have been prepared for such a disaster,” the old man announced to the council. “We must not ignore the inevitable.”

“No!” a man shouted. “You cannot transpire!”

There was that word again. What was transpire? It sounded like some kind of last resort.

“We will not transpire, at least not yet,” the old man responded. “Faar is strong. We may still withstand this attack. But I am ordering the evacuation.”

With that, the old man put the palm of his hand over the yellow crystal, and pushed it down. Immediately, it began to glow yellow, and an alarm sounded. At least I think it was an alarm. It was a loud horn sound that I guarantee was heard everywhere on Faar. From what I could tell, this was a signal. It was telling everyone that it was time to abandon Faar.

The council members hung their heads in defeat.

“Go,” said the old man with compassion. “Join your families. Be sure they get out. If you hear the safe command, then return. But if you do not, my love is with you all.”

Slowly the council members started to file off the bleachers.

One woman called out to the old man, “Come with us. My family will care for you.”

The old man just shook his head. “My place is here,” he said. “There is still the chance we may need to transpire.”

The old guy was going to stay at his post, no matter what. It felt kind of like the sad resolve of a captain going down with his ship. Moments later the council had left the platform and the old man and I were alone.

“What's your name?” I asked him.

“I am Abador,” he said proudly. “Senior to the Council of Faar.” The guy shuffled over to the bleachers and sat down. He looked tired.

“What is this transpire thing you keep talking about?” I asked.

The old man looked at me with a sly smile. “You have learned much about our world here, Pendragon,” he said. “But there are some secrets that are best kept that way. I will tell you this much: The grand city of Faar is a wonderful miracle. Since we were hidden below the sea, we were never attacked by enemies, we never sought to expand our land, we never wanted more than to better ourselves and be the guardians of Cloral. I truly believe this was possible because we were hidden. We did not face the same difficulties or temptations that control the lives of so many above.”

He took a deep, tired breath and continued, “There have been preparations. We knew the day would come when our existence would be revealed. It was inevitable. Now that the day is here, I face a dilemma. Should we reveal ourselves fully and become part of Cloral once again? Should we allow this perfect world to be infiltrated and corrupted by the petty concerns of the Clorans? Or is it better to cherish what we once had and not allow the dream to be corrupted?”

“I'm not sure I get the problem,” I said. “You're saying you've got a choice between joining the rest of Cloral or being destroyed?”

“That puts it simply,” he answered.

“Then if you're asking me, I say it's a no-brainer. You may think the people of Cloral are these horrible boneheads who aren't as advanced as you guys, but from what I've seen it's a great place. People live in peace. They work hard, they have
fun, they respect one another, and compared to where I come from, they pretty much have it all figured out.”

A few distant booming explosions erupted. Abador looked up.

“And what of this . . . attack?” he asked. “Is this what we have to look forward to?”

“No,” I said as strongly as I could. “This is a different enemy. This attack isn't just about destroying Faar. It's about destroying the Cloral I just described to you. And if you call yourselves guardians then you won't roll over and let it happen. Look at it this way, if you give up now, then you've failed all those generations of Faarians who helped Cloral become the place it is.”

Abador looked right into my eyes with that same powerful stare that I had seen before. I hoped I hadn't pushed the guy too far. But I felt strongly about what I had said. Here he was thinking Faar was such a special place that he wouldn't want to become part of Cloral. But I didn't think he truly appreciated what a great place the rest of Cloral was. And now that Cloral was in deep trouble, it wasn't time for the Faarians to give up. I didn't know what this transpire thing was, but it sounded to me like it was a self-destruct plan. It sounded like he wanted to destroy Faar rather than let it become part of Cloral. That was dead wrong.

“You must go,” Abador said. “I will think about what you have said.”

“So . . . you're not going to transpire or anything dumb like that, right?”

Abador glanced over at the control podium with the four crystals. The yellow alarm crystal was still glowing. He chuckled and looked back to me.

“You are very wise for someone so young,” he said. “But
do not make the mistake of thinking you know all there is to know.”

What did that mean? Before I had the chance to ask him, another explosion hit that made all the others seem like minor fireworks. It was deep, it was loud, and it knocked me off my feet. The marble bleachers shifted and Abador was thrown to the platform as well. I got up and helped the old man to his feet, but he pulled away from me and shouted, “Go! Now!”

“You can't stay here! Let me take you out.”

“Pendragon, my place is here,” he said with absolute authority. “If the worst comes to pass, and Faar is in danger of being destroyed, I must be here to transpire.”

He glanced back at the podium. I now understood, sort of. That podium was the last resort. He said how they had planned for this day, and if all else failed, he needed to be at those controls. I still feared what “transpire” would do, but if this was his destiny, it wasn't my place to challenge him. No, I had said all I could and now it was time to go.

“Good luck, Abador,” I said. “I know you'll do the right thing.”

“Thank you, Pendragon. You have helped an old man see things more clearly.”

There was nothing else to say, so I turned and ran off the platform. When I got to the edge I looked down on Faar and saw what the alarm had set in motion. Hundreds of Faarians were streaming along the paths, flowing out of the mountain like ants from their hill. They were all pulling on their green swimskins, ready to hit the ocean. There were men and women of all ages. Many helped the elderly and the very young to pull on their skins. There was no panic; there were no fights. I wondered if they had practiced this before, like a fire drill.
They were going to get out in an orderly manner, and that was good.

Then something happened that wasn't good. It was a very small thing that didn't mean much to me at first. But a few seconds later the horrible reality hit me like a shot to the gut. It was something that I felt on my arm. It was a little tickle that I scratched without giving it a second thought at first. But then I lifted my arm up and saw it for what it really was, and my heart sank.

It was a drop of water. Nothing more, just a single drop of water. But then, another drop fell on my arm. Just a drop. No biggie, right? Wrong. I slowly looked up and realized with horror that this single, innocent drop of water came from the dome overhead. That could mean only one thing.

The dome that had protected Faar for hundreds of generations was starting to crack.

A
s I stood on the steps of the council platform I looked up at the glittering dome that had kept the oceans of Cloral away from Faar for hundreds of generations. What I saw looked like rain. The droplets glistened in the light as they fell. Believe it or not it looked beautiful, like thousands of small, glittering diamonds falling from the sky.

But these beautiful gems brought some seriously bad news. If the dome were cracked and letting in water, where would it stop? Could the pounding that Saint Dane was delivering weaken the dome? If that was the case, then the pressure from the millions upon millions of pounds of water might eventually crack it—like an eggshell. That image was too horrifying to even imagine. I could only hope that the alarm was sounded early enough so that Faar would be evacuated.

And the explosions continued. Saint Dane's attack was relentless. The entire mountain shuddered with each new blast. I couldn't imagine what kind of weapon he had that could destroy something that had been rock solid for centuries.

Then I thought of Spader and Uncle Press. I didn't yet know of the disaster that had happened in the hauler hangar. The only thing I could do was stick to the plan. So I ran for the tunnel that would lead us out of Faar and to my rendezvous with Uncle Press and Spader.

It was getting treacherous. Enough water was now falling from the dome that the pathways were getting slippery. Since many of these paths were right on the edge of humongous cliffs, I had to be careful or a simple slip would mean
splat
. So I moved quickly, but carefully. Soon I joined the flow of Faarians headed for the tunnel, and safety. It was still orderly, but people kept looking up at the falling water and I could tell they were on the edge of panic. Still, they held it together and kept moving toward the tunnel.

Then, just as I was about to enter the tunnel, I saw something that totally lifted my spirits.

“Hey!” I yelled.

Spader was coming out of the tunnel, carrying the other two air globes. It was a struggle for him because he was working against the tide of people flowing in the other direction. I stepped to the side of the path, out of the stream, and waited for him. When he finally got to me, he was all out of breath and excited.

“Where's Uncle Press?” I asked.

“It's a tum-tigger down there, Pendragon,” he blurted out. “They launched one hauler and then there was an explosion. They can't open the doors to launch the rest.”

Oh, yeah, things were getting worse. Faar was on the verge of collapse, and the haulers weren't on their way. Saint Dane was winning.

“Press is still down there,” he said. “I think we've got to get him out.”

We both looked up at the dome. The water was coming down harder now. Whatever cracks were made by the explosions were getting bigger.

“Let's go get him,” I said, and we both ran along the path back into the mountain to get to the aerovator.

It wasn't easy. There were hundreds of Faarians moving in the other direction. We tried to be respectful, but ended up having to push our way through. Now was not the time to be polite. When we finally got into the mountain and to the tube with the aerovators, we saw a pretty huge Faarian guy directing traffic. He was making sure that as each aerovator arrived, everyone got off quickly and kept moving toward the escape tunnel.

Another aerovator arrived and people flooded out. As soon as it was empty, we tried to jump into the car. But this big guy grabbed us both and pulled us back.

“No passengers,” he said firmly.

“But we've got to get down to the hauler hangar!” I shouted.

“Don't you hear the alarm?” the man said. “This is an emergency. These lifts can only be used for the evacuation.”

This guy was big and he wasn't kidding around. There was no way Spader and I could push past him and force our way onto the aerovator. But we also couldn't take the time to run all the way down to the bottom of the mountain. We were stuck. I had to make this guy understand how important it was that we get down there, so I grabbed him by the arm and forced him to look right at me. When I spoke, I tried to do it slowly and calmly.

“Listen to me,” I said. “There are people down there who are in danger. It's really important that we get to them. We have to use this lift. Please let us pass.” I didn't act all frantic or threaten the guy or anything. I just tried to get across how
important this was. At first, I thought he was going to shove me out of the way, but a strange thing happened. He kept looking at me and I sensed that he was relaxing. It was totally weird. He went from being a brick wall in our way to a puppy dog. He then stepped out of the way, leaving the path open for us to enter the aerovator.