D. MacHale - The Lost City of Faar

Finally the first hauler was ready for launching. The airlock door opened behind it and the small craft eased out. Once the hauler was beyond the door, the outer compartment flooded and the ship floated free.

The first hauler was on its way to save the underwater farms of Cloral.

As I ran for the tunnel where we left our gear, the explosions started coming faster. It was like Saint Dane had found his target and was zeroing in. I had no idea what his weapon was, but it was pretty powerful. I could only hope that the Faarians had built this place tough so it could withstand the attack.

I found our gear right where we had left it and grabbed my air globe. For a second I thought I should bring the other two down to Uncle Press and to Spader, but that wasn’t my mission. I had to get to the Council Circle and convince them to abandon Faar. That was the plan; I had to stick to it.

I ran back through the tunnel and made my way out into the light. I quickly debated about the best way to get up to the Council Circle. Should I take the aerovator or just run? Since the aerovator scared me and I had already traveled the paths to the platform once before, I decided to run. It wasn’t easy though. Every time an explosion rocked the place, I was nearly knocked off my feet. Once I almost stumbled off the path and would have fallen down the steep, craggy mountain if a Faarian hadn’t grabbed me. He saved my life. But I didn’t stop to give him more than a quick “thanks.” I had to get to the council.

I retraced the route we took before and was soon running up the marble steps that led to the fancy platform and the Council of Faar. I didn’t know what I’d find there. For all I knew these people had already left. But when I got to the top of the steps, I saw that they were all still sitting on the round bleachers. They seemed to be in heated debate. I didn’t want to step into the middle of it, but I had to. I had to somehow convince these people that the best thing they could do was announce to all of Faar that it was time to leave.

Down in the submarine hangar, the second hauler was ready for launching. The cargo hold was loaded with the precious chemical and the submariners were at the controls, ready to go. Slowly the door at the rear of their pen began to rise. In a few moments the second hauler would be out and on its way The other eighteen haulers wouldn’t be far behind. Things were looking good…

… and then there was an explosion. A big one. It was a direct hit to the air lock behind the hauler that was on its way out. A wave of water blasted in that rocked the hauler forward. The submariners were bounced around like they were in a washing machine. Worse, the half-open door to the sea stopped moving. Several Faarians desperately tried to work the controls to get it moving again, but it was no use. The door was jammed.

Then they discovered something even more ominous. The explosion had done more harm than they first realized. The Faarians discovered thatnoneof the doors behind the haulers would open! This last explosion had done some major damage. If they couldn’t repair it, then the rest of the haulers would be stuck in their pens, unable to be launched.

While the Faarians frantically tried to repair the damaged controls, Uncle Press told Spader to get out of there and bring back their air globes. Spader refused. He didn’t want to leave Uncle Press. But Uncle Press insisted. He reminded Spader that the Faarians had breathers in their suits. If they had to abandon Faar, they would be fine. But as for he and Spader, the Travelers wouldn’t be doing much more traveling.

Spader got the point. He didn’t want to leave, especially when things were looking the bleakest, but he knew he had to go. So, reluctantly he left the hauler hangar and started up toward the tunnel where the last two air globes were waiting.

At the Council Circle I approached the bleachers and heard some of the arguments that were being made.

“We must protect Faar at all costs!” one woman yelled.

“Cloral cannot afford to lose our knowledge and support.”

“It was a breakdown in security,” another man jumped in. “We should never again allow an outsider to enter Faar.”

Another woman yelled at this man, “Wake up! The secret is out. They know we’re here.”

“We can recover from this,” another argued. “We can lock down. We are impenetrable!”

They were arguing in all different directions and getting nowhere. More important, they were missing the big point. Faar was in mortal danger now. I was about to step into the circle, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned quickly and saw that it was the old man who everyone listened to before.

“What is happening below?” he asked.

“They’re starting to launch the haulers,” I answered.

“This… demon who is attacking Faar,” he continued. “What is his goal?”

“That’s a tough one to answer,” I said truthfully. “But right now, he wants to send Cloral into chaos. That’s why he poisoned the crops. The only thing stopping his plan from working is Faar.”

“What kind of person would destroy a city so that he can destroy an entire world?” he asked with pain.

“You said it yourself. He’s a demon. And he’s capable of a lot worse, trust me.”

The old man closed his eyes. I guessed he was processing the information. He seemed hurt by the fact that such hatred and evil could exist. For all of his wisdom, the evil that Saint Dane brought to his doorstep was beyond anything he could imagine.

“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.”