D. MacHale - The Lost City of Faar

Neither of us knew what else to do, so we followed. Once outside we saw that Spader was off and running. He led us down to the same floating docks where we first arrived on Grallion. The area was deserted because all the other aqua-neers were up on deck, ready to defend their habitat.

He ran to the end of one dock and jumped onto his skimmer. We finally caught up to him. I shouted, “What are you doing?”

While he spoke Spader busily prepared the skimmer for a trip.

“My father taught me everything there is to know about every ship on the sea,” he said quickly. “I know about that raider cruiser, thePursuit. There were only a few built, back when the aquaneers feared there might be a war between the habitats. They even built warships that traveled underwater. But the war never happened and the cruisers and submarines were never used — except for a few that got hijacked by raiders.”

“What’s the point, Spader?” asked Uncle Press.

Spader stopped working and looked up at us. “I know where she’s vulnerable. I can scuttle the guns.”

“How?” I asked in disbelief.

“Simple. There are two intake ports below the waterline. That’s where they bring in water for power and ammunition. If I drive a skimmer into an intake port, it’ll jam up the works. No water, no guns. It’ll be dead in the water and we can take her!”

“Did you tell Yenza about this?” asked Uncle Press.

“She wouldn’t listen. She thinks I’m off my cake.”

“Are you off your cake?” I asked.

Spader jumped off his skimmer and back onto the dock. He stood across from us and spoke with sincerity.

“Ever since you turned up here, I’ve had a feeling,” he said. “First you, Press, then later when you came back with Pendragon. I feel like you two mates are here for more than just picking fruit. Am I right? Are the three of us in for a natty-do, or am I just shooting fish?”

It seemed Spader had some rumblings about his future as a Traveler after all. He didn’t know much, he could only sense it, but it was there just the same. His father probably taught him many things to prepare him for this moment, just as Uncle Press did for me. Whatever it is that makes one a Traveler, it was starting to kick in.

“Are you with me?” Spader asked.

“More than you know,” answered Uncle Press. “What’s your plan?”

Spader jumped back down onto his skimmer.

“Press, stay here. Get to Yenza. Tell her what we’re doing. When the intake ports are jammed up, I’ll send up a signal with this flare.”

He held up a small pistol that was probably a flare gun.

“This flare won’t go up until thePursuitis crippled,” he added. “Then Yenza can take a crew and board her before the raiders figure out what happened.”

“What about me?” I asked.

“You’re getting pretty good under the water, mate,” he said.

“Whoa! You want me to go with you? Under that cruiser?”

“I told you, there aretwointake ports. I can’t hit ‘em both at the same time.”

I looked to Uncle Press, hoping he’d bail me out of this suicide mission. He didn’t.

“Are you up to this, Bobby?” he asked.

No! I wasn’t!

“It’ll be easy, mate,” said Spader. “They won’t be looking underwater. All we have to do is sneak up from below, wrench off the intake covers and send in a couple of skimmers. Snappy-do!”

It did sound easy. I spent a lot of time underwater with Spader and I was pretty confident down there. Maybe I could do this after all.

“I don’t suppose there’s a plan B?” I asked Uncle Press.

“Not this time,” he answered. “Unless you’ve got one.”

I didn’t. I was going underwater.

“Wait for the flare!” shouted Spader.

“Be careful!” Uncle Press shouted back as he ran back up the stairs toward the deck.

Yeah, careful. That was a joke, right?

Spader opened the cargo carrier that was behind his skimmer and pulled out two water sleds and two air globes. He threw one air globe to me and stowed the two water sleds in the floor compartment of his skimmer. He then unhooked the cargo carrier so he wouldn’t have to drag it along.

“Are those water sleds big enough to do the job?” I asked.

“Nah, those are for our getaway,” said Spader.

“Then what are we going to use to jam the intake ports?”

Spader jumped from his skimmer onto another that was right next to it. He threw a few toggle switches and the engines whined to life.

“You take my skimmer,” he said.

This didn’t make a whole lot of sense. If we were going to sneak up on the raiders’ cruiser from underwater, then why were we each taking a skimmer? They may be fast, but Saint Dane and his crew would see us coming for sure.

Spader put his air globe over his head and it instantly conformed to him. I did the same. I jumped onto the skimmer and started to power it up. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “Won’t they see us coming?”

Spader pointed to a black toggle switch that was under the steering column.

“They would — if we were on top of the water.”

He flipped the black toggle and a rush of air bubbles blew out from under his skimmer. Then it started to sink. Spader looked at me and smiled. I found the same switch on my skimmer, and threw it. The same thing happened. Slowly my skimmer submerged. As it turned out, these babies didn’t just fly over the water, they traveled underwater, too!

Just before his head went under, Spader asked, “How do you know Zy Roder?”

“Long story,” I answered. “I’ll tell you later.”

“You’d better. Hobey-ho!”

With that, my head sank below and we were under way. Spader had given me skimmer lessons before, so I was familiar with how it operated. But this was way different. Rather than stand up, I held on to the steering handles and my body floated parallel to the deck.

“You okay?” asked Spader.

“I think,” was my answer.

“Then let’s hit it!”

He cranked his throttle, dipped the nose of his skimmer, and immediately shot down to the ocean floor. I did the same, and we were off. This was a lot like using the water sleds, except they were much more powerful. I was too heavy on the throttle at first and the skimmer nearly pulled out of my grasp. I followed behind Spader but made sure to stay out of his wake because when I got too close, the jets from his skimmer’s pontoons hit me like turbulence. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually got the knack of controlling the vehicle and staying clear of Spader. Now all I had to do was worry about the killers we were sneaking up on.

Spader hugged the sandy bottom. That was smart. The deeper we were, the less chance there was of us being spotted. Remember, the water was very clear on Cloral. Visibility had to be at least a hundred feet. I really hoped that from the deck of thePursuit, we just looked like big fish.

In no time I could look up and see the dark shape of the cruiser floating above us. Everything looks bigger underwater, but even accounting for that, this ship looked immense. It was like a giant black cloud that blocked out the sun. Spader set his skimmer down in the sand directly beneath the massive ship, right in its shadow.

“I’ll go up first,” he said while taking out a wrench-looking tool from his back pocket. I’ll pull off the intake covers, then come back for you. Get the water sleds ready to go.”

I nodded and gave the “okay” sign. I still wasn’t used to talking underwater. Spader took off swimming up to thePursuit, and I swam to his skimmer to get the water sleds. So far so good, but time was running out. I didn’t have my watch (since I wasn’t allowed to have a Second Earth watch on another territory), but I guessed that we were getting close to the end of the twenty-minute time limit.