Raven Rise

JOURNAL #36
(CONTINUED)
SECOND EARTH

Onehelicopter landed in center field. The other two remained hovering and disgorging dados. The buses charged into left and right field, digging up grass. When they stopped, the doors flew open and red-shirt dados began pouring out.

The crowd wasn’t in full-on panic. Yet. As a whole, they began moving backward, as if repelled by the sight of the sudden, dramatic arrival of the red shirts. I think there was as much confusion going on as anything else. Still, the people in that stadium looked as if they all felt it might be a good idea to be somewhere else. Those who were standing in front of the stage climbed back into the stands. The people in the stands moved toward the exits. It wasn’t a mad rush, but it was a definite, massive movement…

That was abruptly ended.

Red-shirt dados, spewing from every exit that led under the stands, pushed the people back. To keep them in. There was one big difference between these red shirts and any others I’d seen. They weren’t carrying Tasers.

They were holding machine guns.

I looked to the higher levels, where the same thing was happening. Dados appeared at all the exits, blocking the way. Nobody was allowed to leave. The scene on ground level was more intense because of the people trying to push their way off the field.

Confusion was quickly turning to fear.

People scrambled past me, but there was nowhere to go other than to jam the field-level boxes, which were already packed with people. I knew it would only be a matter of time before panic set in. The crowd would try to rush the dados. What would happen then? Would they start shooting? Was this how the Bronx Massacre would play out? Were thousands of people about to be gunned down in cold blood?

“My friends!” came a calming voice over the stadium speaker.

I looked back to the stage to see another performer had arrived. Alexander Naymeer. He stood alone onstage, wearing his dark red robe. His face appeared on the giant video screen above.

The crowd reaction was all over the map. Some booed. Some cried. Some angrily tried to shout him off the stage. Naymeer was unaffected. He stood there with a benign smile, gazing out at the madness as if proud of his handiwork. The guy actually looked happy. And why not? He had just been given the keys to the kingdom.

“The choice has been made,” his voice boomed. “Our noble cause has been recognized. A glorious future awaits, but there is much work to be done.”

People tried to scream him down. Some tried to jump onto the stage, but they were thrown back by the dados that had arrived on the buses and choppers. The nightmare had been carefully planned.

“Today is the beginning,” Naymeer declared. “It is a day that will forever be looked back upon as the turning point of mankind. It is the day when we grab hold of our own destiny and begin to create the life we so richly deserve.”

This couldn’t go on much longer. The crowd wouldn’t stand for it. It was going to get real ugly, real fast. While the madness swirled around me, I was strangely calm. I guess it was because there was nothing I could do. However this was going to play out, I wasn’t going to be a factor.

Or maybe I was.

Professor Gastigian was the voice of the people. If there was any hope of standing up to Naymeer, the people were going to need somebody to rally behind. I might not be able to save the thousands of poor people in that stadium from whatever fate awaited them, but I had to try to save at least one: Haig. He had to get out of there.

I took off running for the stage, which wasn’t easy, because I had to weave my way through the people who were pushing the other way, desperately trying to get off the field. I knocked over more than one person as I fought my way back toward the TV truck.

“You are here today because you have made a choice,” Naymeer continued. “Rather than rising to your fullest potential, you have chosen to let others lead the way for you.”

Naymeer’s voice had taken on that edge again. He was transforming from kindly father figure to harsh judge.

“You have chosen to tear down rather than build up. You criticize rather than strategize. Instead of working to improve your lot, you are satisfied with being carried on the backs of others.”

Naymeer stalked the stage, pointing an accusing finger at the crowd. He was getting worked up. It was all building toward something that I knew couldn’t be good.

“For that, I pity you. If we are to see our way through to a greater world, we will no longer make excuses. No longer tolerate lethargy. Idleness. Sloth. You have chosen your own path. You could have reveled in the glory of Halla. Instead you will be swept away by the tide of purification.”

With that, he thrust his hand into the air. A single beam of light shot from his ring, headed for the sky. The crowd let out a collective gasp. They no longer pushed their way toward the exits. Every last person froze, transfixed by the dramatic sight.

I didn’t stop moving. I couldn’t. I was on a mission. The infield was nearly empty. The few stragglers who remained stood staring at the impossible display coming from Naymeer. From his ring. Mark’s ring. The beam of light shot skyward with no end. It could have reached into space and beyond. What was it? What did it mean?

A shadow flashed on the stage. Somebody had gotten through security and was headed for Naymeer. I looked away from the beam of light in time to see who the brave intruder was.

It was Alder. He must have gotten onto the stage from behind. I guessed the guards weren’t expecting an assault from backstage. It was as if time slowed down. Alder was doing what he always did-he was taking charge. He was a warrior. A knight. While I was in brain lock, already admitting defeat, Alder was taking action. Whatever the light was that sprang from Naymeer’s ring, I figured it couldn’t be good. Alder must have thought the same thing, because he was making a full-on assault. He sprinted across the stage. His target was Naymeer. I held my breath, waiting for the tackle.

It never came. As Alder coiled to launch himself at Naymeer, two red-shirt guards stepped onto the stage from opposite sides. Their machine guns were leveled at their waists.

“Alder!” I screamed to warn him. There was no chance that he heard me. Even if he had, it wouldn’t have made a difference. I changed direction and sprinted for the stage. For my friend.

The dados fired. Both weapons clattered loudly. Alder was hit so hard and so furiously, it knocked him off course and threw him from the stage. The sight was so jarring and violent, it made me stop short. Alder landed on the dirt of the infield. He didn’t move. His blood quickly mixed with the light brown dirt. People screamed in horror. The violence had begun. And Alder didn’t move. Naymeer never took his eyes off his beam of light. I don’t think he even knew what had just happened. He stared up at the shimmering laserlike ray as if he himself were in awe of its majesty. And Alder didn’t move. I started running again. I could save him. I could bring him back to life.

I never got the chance.

Before I could reach him, I was tackled by two red shirts. All I wanted to do was get to Alder. To get my hands on him. To will him back to life. I nailed one dado in the head with an elbow, sending him reeling. The other one wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug that I tried to break, but couldn’t.

“Alder!” I shouted desperately. “You’re all right! You will not die!”

Two more dados joined the guy who held me. They dragged me away. Away from Alder.

“Alder!” I screamed again. “Hang on!”

I didn’t have the strength to break free of the dados. I couldn’t lay my hands on Alder. I couldn’t work whatever impossible magic we Travelers had. There was nothing I could do to help my friend. My fellow Traveler. The guy who followed me unquestioningly. The knight who’d saved my life so many times before. Alder was dead.

He died the way he had lived, fighting for what he knew was right. I didn’t even react. Seriously. How could I? Call it shock. Call it denial. Whatever. I couldn’t focus on the fact that the knight from Denduron was lying dead in the dirt. Not him. Alder was invincible. It was something I knew I would have to deal with at some point, but not just then, because my nightmare was only beginning.

I desperately struggled to break loose from the dados. It was a waste of energy. They dragged me to the side of the stage, away from Naymeer. The Ravinian leader hadn’t moved. The beam of light from his ring shot straight into the sky. I heard a clap of thunder. At least, it sounded like thunder. It could have been the seam between territories cracking open. Then another beam of light shot down from the sky, next to the first. It was as if the first beam hit something in the heavens and bounced back. The light hit the ground in front of the stage with another thundering boom, as if it were a bomb. The ground shook. The force of the impact knocked us off our feet. The dados lost their grip. I nearly got away, but the dados were too fast. They wrapped me up again and dragged me off. I kept my eyes on the infield. The ground was glowing. Whatever the light was, it had heat. Smoke rose from the point of impact.

Both beams of light disappeared. Naymeer took a quick look at his handiwork, nodded in satisfaction, and strode off the stage. What had he done? The light spread across the ground, creating smoke and sizzle. Every eye in the stadium was on it. Except for mine, that is. The dados pulled me behind the stage.

I saw Naymeer coming down the backstage stairs. He was met by two dados, who escorted him toward the helicopter that had landed in the outfield. Whatever was about to happen, Naymeer wasn’t going to be around to see it. Or maybe he wanted to watch it from the air.

The door to the TV trailer flew open. Two more red-shirt dados blasted out. They were holding Professor Gastigian. They too must have realized how important Gastigian was to their enemies. Haig struggled against them, but it was no use. The old man couldn’t battle two dados. I wasn’t doing such a great job either. There was nothing I could to do help the professor. There was nothing I could do to help Alder. It was a complete and total loss. Haig was dragged toward the waiting helicopter. Surprisingly, I was too. Up ahead, the rotors of the big chopper started to whine and turn. Naymeer climbed aboard, followed shortly after by Haig, who was thrown aboard. I was last. The red shirts took me right to the door and pushed me in. I hit the deck and tried to bounce back to my feet, but a dado followed me in and pushed me back down onto the deck. He stood over me with his machine gun ready. I wasn’t going anywhere.

The door was slammed shut from the outside. The dado on board reached back with one hand and threw the handle to lock it tight. The rotors whined. The chopper shuddered. Moments later we were airborne.

The helicopter looked like a military troop carrier. It was pretty much a big, flying room with bench seats along either side. Haig was on the floor in a heap. I didn’t see Naymeer. I figured he must have gone to the cockpit. I rolled to my right and crawled toward the window. I needed to see what was happening below. The dado didn’t stop me. I guess he figured there was nowhere for me to go. The helicopter rose quickly and hovered between the 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.”

That’s when I snapped.

In that one instant, my swirl of confusion and shock and horror grew focused. It became rage. Everything that had happened in the previous few fateful minutes flashed through my head in fast forward. The sad faces of the people below, the UN announcement, Saint Dane munching popcorn, the predatory helicopters, the red shirts, the fear, the panic, the looks on the faces of so many people who’d had no idea that they were being lured into a trap, Naymeer’s ring, the new, monstrous flume, Nevva.

Nevva Winter.

Maybe above all, I remembered the violent death of my friend Alder. It all came back to me in a blistering barrage of images that ended on the smug face of Alexander Naymeer. The founder of Ravinia. The face of the horror. The mass murderer. It’s hard to describe the anger I felt, but I’ll try.

I lunged at Naymeer. It was the last thing he expected. I grabbed him by the throat with both hands. I could have squeezed the life out of him right there, but that would have been too easy.

“Pendragon!” Nevva shouted with genuine surprise.

I locked looks with Naymeer. His face was turning red. He couldn’t speak. Hands crushing your windpipe will have that effect. I saw the terror in his eyes. I liked it.

“Pendragon, no!” Nevva screamed. “There are other choices.”

I don’t know why Nevva bothered talking. After all that she had done, did she actually think I would believe anything she had to say? There was only one thing on my mind. Revenge. I wanted to kill Naymeer. A guy who had so little regard for life simply didn’t deserve to live. I pulled the horrid little man over to the door of the helicopter. With one foot I lifted the handle, released the door lock, and kicked it open. Wind filled the craft along with the thunderous noise of the rotors. Naymeer struggled futilely. He wasn’t strong enough to fight me. I was being driven by insanity. I would not be denied. I forced him to look out the door, over the edge. Below us, the people were grasping at one another in one last desperate attempt to keep from being sucked into the flume.

“Look!” I screamed at him. “Is this your glorious future? Is this what the people of the world have to look forward to? Mass execution of those who don’t fit your ideal?”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see it. I wouldn’t accept that. He had to know.

“I said, ‘Look!’” I bellowed. “This is your paradise. This is your Utopia.”

“Bravo, Pendragon,” Saint Dane said. He walked to the center of the helicopter and stood with his hands behind his back. He didn’t make a move to stop me. “I knew there was another side to you. My only surprise is that it took so long to surface.”

“Don’t come near me,” I shouted to the demon, and pushed Naymeer farther over the edge.

“I don’t intend to,” Saint Dane said calmly. “This is your show now.”

“Bring him back in, Bobby,” Nevva said with what actually sounded like compassion. I was way beyond hearing it. I tightened my grip on Naymeer’s neck. He moved his eyes to look down. I don’t think he cared about seeing what was happening with the flume. He was afraid of falling.

“By the way, Pendragon, did you know that the Traveler from Third Earth is dead?” Saint Dane asked. “Patrick was his name, I believe. He was killed by Ravinian guardians on Third Earth. Alder from Denduron lies dead below us. Mark and Courtney are gone as well. You’ve lost so many friends in such a short time. It’s a shame, really. Now the man responsible is in your grasp. His fate is in your hands. Literally. Will he live to rule Earth? Or pay for their lives with his own? The decision is all yours.”

I heard Saint Dane but couldn’t take my eyes off Naymeer. He really was the guy responsible. He was a Traveler. He used that as a tool to gain power. It didn’t matter that he was being influenced by Saint Dane. The choices were his.

He chose to create Ravinia. He chose to condemn half the population of Earth. He chose to execute thousands. He chose to kill my friends.

“It’s not hard to kill,” Saint Dane said in a low growl. “When it’s justified.”

The helicopter was hovering directly over the flume. In a matter of seconds people would start falling in.

“Bobby, listen to me,” Nevva pleaded. “This isn’t you. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

If I had been in my right mind, I might actually have thought she was being sincere. I wasn’t. Her words had no meaning. Second Earth was lost. Saint Dane’s quest to control Halla had succeeded. I had my hands around the neck of the man he chose to run it all. Through the swirl of emotion and insanity, I had a moment of total clarity. In that instant, I understood that this was inevitable. From the moment I left home with Uncle Press, all that happened had led to this. All the battles for all the territories. All the successes. The defeats. The deaths. The sacrifices. The sadness. The loneliness. I had lost everything. My life. My friends. My home. My family. Where was my family? Where was my family?

All of that had been prelude. It had come down to this.

“Don’t do it,” Nevva begged.

“She’s right,” Saint Dane added. “Don’t do it. Show the same weakness that caused you to hide on Ibara. That is why you failed, Pendragon. You don’t have the strength to lead.”

I was shaking with anger. For a brief moment I thought I heard the sounds from down below. I heard the screams. I felt their fear. It was the final horror. I couldn’t take it anymore. Somebody had to pay.

I shoved Naymeer out of the helicopter.

The man screamed. He plummeted down, headed directly for the flume. Our eyes locked as he fell. I could feel the surprise and terror that gripped him as he plunged to his death. For that brief moment, I embraced revenge. It felt good.

And then Saint Dane laughed.

“Finally!” he declared in triumph.

I spun back to him, holding on to the edge of the doorway, the rush of blood and adrenaline still pounding through me.

“Pendragon, it is now truly over.”

I couldn’t find the words to ask what that meant. Saint Dane found them for me.

“It all came down to this. This was the final test, Pendragon. As I predicted, you have failed.”

Those words will haunt me forever.

I glanced down to see the final, excruciating moments of Alexander Naymeer’s life. He fell directly into the flume. Out of sight. A moment later, a ball of light and smoke leaped from the flume, shooting straight to the sky. Straight toward us. We were hit with a blinding flash of light and a rush of energy that could only have been powered by some demonic force. The helicopter buffeted wildly. It started spinning out of control. It felt as if we were caught in a tornado. I held on to the helicopter’s frame to keep from falling out. Nevva did the same across from me. Saint Dane didn’t move. He stood there calmly. Laughing. The pilot no longer controlled the helicopter. We were moving, that much I could tell. But to where? Between the smoke and the bright light outside, I lost all sense of direction. We could have been flying higher, or about to crash to the ground. Outside, there was nothing but white and light. The g-force increased, pushing me against the side wall. Then, there was a break. I saw something solid through the smoke. We had plummeted down to the same level as the top tiers of the stadium, and we were falling fast.

“And now,” Saint Dane yelled through the sounds of the whining motor and the terrified screams. “At long last, we can begin.”

A moment later we dropped into the flume.