D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

“Maybe at one time he did. Maybe he actually did feel that he knew what was best for mankind. But his goals have evolved. I believe he has set his sights on an even greater prize.”

“I thought Halla was everything? What could be greater than that?”

“By crushing the spirit of mankind, he will ultimately control Solara. If that happens, the existing worlds of Halla will mean nothing, because he will have the ability to use the power still held by the spirits of the ages to create his own Halla.”

“What!” I shouted.

“That is Saint Dane’s ultimate goal, Bobby. He won’t have to bother with what has gone before and the molding of existing worlds to his liking, because he will be able to create his own worlds. Multiple worlds. Why stop at seven evolved worlds when he can create ten? Twenty? A hundred? All would be created according to his vision. Simply put, he will be a god, because he will have the power to create. That is what Saint Dane has been after, Bobby. He has turned Halla toward chaos in order to give himself the power to form an entirely new universe. One that he alone controls.”

I looked around at the bleak world with renewed wonder. I had been right from the start. This was a dead place. Or at least a place that was dying. Saint Dane was killing it. All that had happened was done to break down the positive spirit of mankind, which would in turn cripple Solara and allow him to control its power.

I had thought the guy was an arrogant, egotistical tyrant. I had no idea how right I was. The scope of his vision was so far beyond anything that I had expected, it was almost laughable. Almost. Each territory, each battle, each turning point was just another building block in the foundation of the most incredible crime of all time. Saint Dane didn’t want wealth. Or to rule a group of people. Or to control a country, a world, or even multiple worlds. He wanted to create his own personal universe. From all that Uncle Press told me, it looked like he was going to succeed.

“I’ve got a dumb question,” I said.

“Go for it,” Uncle Press shot back.

“It sounds like you’ve known what he’s been up to for a long time.”

“From the beginning. He and I were together for eons. I believe I knew him better than any other in Solara. I suppose in some strange way you could say that we were friends.”

“Okay, odd, but if you knew what was happening, why didn’t you try to stop him?”

Uncle Press smiled. That was an odd reaction, considering that we were on the verge of Armageddon.

“You’re right, that was a dumb question,” he said.

”Why?”

”Because we did do something to stop him. In an act of total desperation that in many ways went against the nature of Solara, we created the one thing we hoped would stop his mad plan.”

“What was it?”

“We created you, Bobby.”

From the first moment I left home to go with Uncle Press so long ago, there were very few times when I actually felt I was up to the challenges put in front of me.

Sure, there were times when I had plenty of confidence. I had become a decent fighter. I think I did pretty well figuring out Saint Dane’s schemes. At least some of them, anyway. I had faith in my fellow Travelers. We made a good team. But whenever I turned my thoughts to the larger, more cosmic issues, I always felt I was behind. I didn’t know why I had been chosen to be the lead Traveler. I was just a kid. I always felt as if they should have picked somebody better equipped to match up with Saint Dane. Hearing all the incredible things that Uncle Press had to say about Solara did nothing to change my mind. The battle against Saint Dane was no longer about a tribe or a city or a country or a world. It wasn’t even about Halla. It was about trying to stop a guy who had taken on the power of a god and was about to create his own universe. How the heck was I supposed to compete with that?

As we stood together on that mysterious world at the edge of reality, I really hoped that Uncle Press had a good answer.

“I don’t mean to criticize,” I said to my uncle. “After all, you have the combined knowledge and wisdom from all time, and I’m just a basketball jock. But, how do I say this? What the hell were you thinking? You’re trying to stop a demon who has the power to control the power of all that ever was, and you chose me to stop him? Doesn’t seem like the brightest move, if you ask me.”

“It was the only move,” Uncle Press answered.

“Then Saint Dane won before the game even began” was my conclusion.

“Not true. I’ve watched you, Bobby. I’ve seen your every move. We made the exact right move.”

“You saw it all? Everything? You know exactly what happened?”

“Everything. Solara is everywhere, remember?” “Everywhere. Right. You even saw me when I was, like, going to the bathroom?”

He gave me another sour look.

“Sorry, habit. If I don’t make fun of what’s going on sometimes, I’ll explode.” “I know that, too.”

“So if you saw everything, you know I was outmatched every step of the way. Even when I thought we’d won, he turned it back on us. It’s been totally futile.”

“But it hasn’t been. Saint Dane knew that you and the Travelers were the only threat to his plan. Stopping you was as important to him as swaying the destiny of the territories. He could have ignored you, but he didn’t.”

“He kept asking me to join him.”

“Of course he did. I think you can see why now.”

“Not exactly.”

“I know you’ve wondered how the battle was supposed to play out. What Saint Dane told you is true. He was trying to prove the rightness of his way of thinking. That was the battle. His philosophy of control and elitism, versus your thinking that people should be free to choose their own destiny.”

“Yeah? Then who the heck were we trying to convince? Is there some kind of grand judge on Solara? A panel? An executive council? The bosses of the ages, who are going to pass judgment on who won and who lost?”

“In a way you were trying to prove yourselves to the most important judges of all. The only judges that counted.”

“Who?”

“The people of Halla.” “Uh… huh?”

“Saint Dane’s plan was to turn the territories upside down. Mankind is inherently good. Saint Dane wanted to change that. He wanted to create an atmosphere of mistrust. Of constant competition and pervasive desperation and fear. On each territory he appealed to the lowest instincts of man. Greed, arrogance, self-absorption, paranoia. But for his ultimate goal to succeed, it had to happen on a universal scale. On all the worlds of Halla. That’s why he found those turning points in the histories of those worlds. He needed to find the moment in time of each territory that would have the maximum negative impact on that world. By turning a territory away from its natural destiny, which was to follow the positive instincts of man, he forced the territories into chaos. That, of course, brought out their worst. Since Solara is a reflection of mankind, the spirit of Solara changed right along with those worlds. The high thinking and positive energy that created us changed. It’s why you can barely feel the spirits of Solara. They are growing weaker and dying off. The desolate world you see now is a direct result of Saint Dane’s meddling with the nature of man.”

“So how was I supposed to stop that?”

“Not just you. You and the other Travelers. Saint Dane became a physical presence in Halla. For him it was no longer about visiting dreams and whispering guidance. Once he determined the turning points, he became part of their societies, seemingly helping them make decisions, but actually leading them toward disaster.”