D. MacHale - The Lost City of Faar

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.

AsI 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.