D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

“Can’t ask for much more than that.”

“My point exactly. Thing is, a guy like me wouldn’t make it in this new setup. There’s no room for regular folks in this world of Ravinia. There’s the few people who have it all, and everybody else. There’s always been those who have more than others, but now, the regular folks don’t even have the chance to build a life they can be proud of. With all the philosophizing and theorizing and threats and highfalutin goals, it all comes down to one thing: Saint Dane is killing the chance for people to be happy.”

Gunny had pretty much summed up what this was all about. Saint Dane was taking away the chance for people to be happy. It sounds so simple, but being happy is probably the number one goal for everyone, no matter what world they come from. Talk about basic rights. What was that phrase from the Declaration of Independence? Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? Except for a chosen few, Saint Dane was taking away those rights. It took a sixty-five-year-old guy who had lived most of his life not knowing anything about Travelers or Halla or guiding spirits to put it into such clear perspective.

“And that’s why I’m glad you’re here right now,” I said to my friend. “You and I have to convince those people down there that this is their chance to take back those rights and have another shot at being happy.”

Gunny took a deep breath and stood up. His energy was renewed. “Then let’s get it done,” he declared.

It wasn’t long before Gunny and I were sitting in the chambers of the gar leaders in the dead center of the ring of buildings that made up the village of Black Water. It wasn’t hard to get an audience. Aron was still one of the village elders. Most of the others remembered Gunny and were grateful for all he had done to help educate the gars while he was trapped there with Spader. Some of them remembered me, too. We were friends. We were trusted.

Also in the meeting were ten leaders of the Yanks. Years before, they had divided the group up into ten distinct units, to help manage and organize their lives. Each group elected a leader that reported to the gar elders. The liaison between the gars and the Yank leaders was none other than Courtney. She was in the meeting too. Courtney had a foot in both camps. She knew Black Water, and she was from Second Earth. She could speak intelligently to both groups. It seemed to be a pretty smart way to quickly organize a village that had suddenly tripled in size. The proof was not only in the fact that the village ran smoothly, but also that they were able to work together and organize a solid defense against the klees. Everybody was feeling pretty good about themselves.

I hated to have to burst their bubble.

I won’t detail all the arguments we put before the group. I’ve already written most of them earlier in this journal. Bottom line was that Gunny and I tried to impress upon them that they may have defeated the klees once, but they’d be back again. And again. More important than that, we warned them that an attack was coming that was far more threatening than anything the klees could throw at them. We warned them that an army like they had never seen was preparing to march on Black Water with the single goal of wiping out the Yanks. The gars weren’t necessarily the target, but with the kind of attack that was being planned, it would be wrong to believe the gars would be spared.

“The question isn’t if the attack will come,” I said. “It’s when. I believe it’s going to be soon.”

Both the gar leaders and the exile leaders exchanged uneasy looks. It was a lot to accept.

“What is your proposal, Pendragon?” Aron asked.

I outlined the bare bones of our plan. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy sell. It not only involved getting multiple thousands of people to jump into a flume-again-but when they reached the other side, they would be faced with a seemingly unbeatable foe. How unbeatable depended on a number of things, none of which we had control over. As I said the words out loud, and listened to myself speak, the whole idea sounded impossible. Maybe even insane. What was I thinking? The more I spoke, the more I realized that these people wouldn’t go for it in a million years. Heck, if I were in their position, I wouldn’t go for it either. It was suicide. I finished on a whimper, ready to get tossed out of there.

Before anyone had a chance to respond, Gunny stood up. “I can only imagine what you’re thinking,” he began. “Believe me, we feel the same way. The odds we face are long indeed. There is no guarantee of victory. People will die. Perhaps by the thousands. To that, I have two things to say. You are faced with a dire situation. Black Water will come under attack again. Soon. By a force much larger and more deadly than you have just defeated. Your weapons may stop some of theirs, but the numbers are not on your side. Their army is immense. They will keep coming, and attacking, until every last one of the people who came here from Second Earth is killed. That is a simple, sad fact. After they are finished, it’s anybody’s guess as to what shape you will be in when the klees decide to come calling again. Make no mistake. Whether you choose to follow our plan, or decide to stay and defend yourselves, you will have to fight this army. The choice you have is to fight them here, or take the battle to them. We wish there was a third choice. There isn’t.”

Everyone shifted in their seats uneasily.

“There’s something else,” Gunny continued. “To those who came from Earth, you must understand that this attack is going to be launched by the very same people who tore you from your home. The truth is, they wanted you dead back then. If not for the work of one woman, you would be. The Ravinians eliminated you because you posed a threat to their plans. You still pose a threat, and that is why they are coming after you. To the gars of Black Water, you are in much the same situation. You’ve seen how Ravinia changed Eelong. There was peace with the klees. I know. I helped forge it. But Ravinia has thrown out every bit of progress we made and declared you to be fair game. To be hunted as food. This is the kind of world that Ravinia has created all over Halla. In one way or another, they are eating their enemies. You gars haven’t seen these other worlds, but you Yanks have. You know about the flumes. You’ve already traveled through one. You know there are other societies out there. Other worlds. Other lives. Ravinia is controlling it all, and it began when they exiled you from your home. This is your chance to take back your lives. To stop the people who have wronged so many. This is the last chance to try and make things right.”

Gunny sat down, winded, but his eyes were clear and focused. He had made an impassioned plea that was hard to argue with. At least, I hoped it was hard to argue with.

One of the Yank leaders stood and said, “Perhaps there is a third choice. What if we Yanks picked up and left Black Water? If the Ravinians are targeting us, we shouldn’t stay and endanger the gars.”

Aron said, “That’s a noble gesture, but without the Yanks, I do not believe we will have the strength to fend off the klees again. I think I am speaking for all the gars here, who say that whatever we decide to do, we must do it together. Gars and Yanks.”

One of the gar leaders asked, “If this army you speak of is made up of creatures like the ones that attacked Black Water, we have weapons that will stop them.”

“Do you?” I asked. “How many of those radio cannons do you have? How much power do they have? Is it limitless? We’re talking about multiple thousands of dados. You could wipe out half of them and still be overrun by thousands more. Are your weapons that powerful?”