D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

I rounded a corner and was met by a klee. A dado klee. The Ravinian uniform was the tip-off. The cat seemed just as surprised as I was. I froze. The klee raised its weapon. I had nowhere to run. No place for protection.

“I’m Pendragon,” I called out, hoping that it would mean something. Maybe Saint Dane wanted me taken alive. It was a desperate move… that didn’t work. The klee raised its silver weapon and took aim. I dove to the ground and rolled. I wanted to make a tough target. Maybe I would get lucky. The klee brought the weapon to its eye…

And was attacked by another snarling klee. The big brown cat leaped from a window and knocked the Ravinian to the ground.

“Boon!” I called out.

I jumped to my feet and ran for the two wrestling klees.

“Don’t let that thing touch you!” I warned, knowing that one touch of that silver wand and Boon would be vapor.

Boon clamped his powerful jaws on the Ravinian’s neck. The klee didn’t react, of course. It was a dado. But as it fought to get loose, I was able to jump forward and kick the wand out of its paw. The weapon clattered away. The klee tried to fight off Boon while reaching for it. He didn’t have a chance. I grabbed the wand and screamed, “Let it go!”

Boon jumped back, and I jabbed the business end of the silver wand at the dado. It instantly stopped moving.

Boon was out of breath and wide eyed. “What’s happening?” he shouted. “Where is everybody?”

“You don’t know?”

Boon shook his head. “I was sleeping on the outskirts of the village. They know I’m not a threat, but I’m still a klee. So I decided to stay clear of everybody. When the alarm went off, I came back looking to see what was happening, but everybody’s gone!”

“And the dados are attacking from Third Earth. We’ve got to get out of here.”

Boon and I took off running, but it seemed as though every way we turned, there were more dados. With nobody to stop them, the city was quickly becoming infested.

“There’s another flume,” I told him. “Far to the south on the edge of the farm. But we’re cut off.”

Boon grabbed my arm and yanked me in another direction. “I’ve got a way.”

We continued our twisting route until we got to the very center of the village and the large building that was Gar Central. Boon led me inside.

“Is there a tunnel or something?” I asked.

“No. Just the opposite.”

We hit stairs. Boon sprinted up on all fours. I had all I could do to keep up with the cat. I trusted Boon but didn’t like that we were climbing up. It wouldn’t be good to be trapped on the roof, with no escape route.

He said, “In the brief time that there was a truce between the gars and the klees, technology was exchanged. Things were going well, until Ravinia.”

“What kind of technology?”

We made it to the top stairs. Boon opened a door that led out onto the roof. “That kind,” he announced.

Sitting there, square in the middle of the roof of the large building, were three yellow gigs.

“Tell me you know how to fly,” I demanded.

“Kasha would never admit it, but I’m a better pilot than she is.”

I didn’t need convincing. I pushed past him, headed for the small helicopters. Boon jumped in the pilot seat of one, while I strapped into the passenger side. Boon immediately toggled the ignition switches. The overhead rotor whined to life.

“Wait,” I exclaimed. “There’s no sun. What’s powering this?”

“Like I said, it’s new technology,” he explained. “This is something the gars came up with. They didn’t even have one back in Leeandra. The gars added a device for storing the energy. We’ll have about an hour of flight time.”

That news actually made me angry. It was more proof that the gars weren’t animals. The merger of the two tribes, the two species, had been a huge benefit for all the beings on Eelong. Until Ravinia.

Boon added, “Let’s hope the dados don’t know how to use the radio cannons.”

Oh. Right. Those things.

Boon pulled the control stick back, and we lifted off… just in time. The door leading to the roof burst open, and three Ravinian dados ran out, their weapons up and firing. I felt the ping of energy as the underside of the gig was hit. They weren’t radio cannons. They couldn’t stop us.

“Take us up high over the village,” I called to Boon. “I want to see what’s happening.”

Boon lifted the small gig high into the night sky, directly over the dead center of the village. From there we had a perfect view of the entire valley. It was like looking down on a football game from a blimp. I saw the flume that had burned into the mountainside. Light continued to spew out, along with more dados. The numbers were incredible. The dados had pretty much filled up the entire space between the flume and the outer ring of the village. They stood poised to completely overrun the place.

Several dados ran through the streets. They must have been the advance troops. They were fast and mobile, searching for signs of life. They weren’t having any luck. The village was totally empty. Boon circled around so we could scout the entire place. I wondered if the gars had built a shelter in the mountains, where they could retreat in case of an attack. That seemed like the most logical answer. Maybe Courtney had finally convinced them that the attack was inevitable, so they decided to hide instead of joining us. If that was the case, how long could they hold out? Not all the gars and exiles were candidates for fighting a war. There were kids. And babies. And older people. Would they be able to stay hidden until the dados gave up and left? It seemed like a temporary solution, at best.

“Now what?” Boon asked. “We don’t have enough power to stay up here forever.”

I looked to the south and the farm. Even from as far away as we were, I could make out the dark, round shadow that I knew was the mouth of the Travelers’ flume.

The gig lurched. I knew the feeling. Boon did too.

“I guess they figured out how to use the radio cannons,” I said.

“We’ve got to fly out of here,” Boon said, and pushed the gig forward.

The craft rocked two more times. Boon fought for control.

“That way!” I shouted, pointing toward the farm.

Boon struggled to keep the gig in the air. We spun to the right. He fought to keep us headed south.

“I’ve got to put it down,” he declared.

“No!” I shouted. “Keep headed south!”

“But we’ll crash!”

We got hit again. The gig spun the opposite way, snapping my head to the side.

“We’re going to find out just how good a pilot you are,” I called out. “Head for that hole.”

“Hole?” Boon screamed, terrified. “What hole?”

“Trust me.”

We were losing altitude fast. If we crashed, there was no guarantee we’d walk away from it. I knew we only had one chance. We had to fly the gig into the flume.

Boon spotted the flume and directed the gig toward the gaping hole. “I don’t think I can put it in there without clipping the side,” he cried.

“Yes, you can. Concentrate.”

The dark hole of the flume grew larger as we got closer. We were dropping fast. The mouth of the tunnel was big enough for the gig, but Boon would have to drop it in the dead center.

“Pendragon!” he cried out.

“Do it!” I screamed.

Boon eased back on the throttle, and we dropped down. I winced, waiting for the rotor to catch the rim of the tunnel. I didn’t know whether Boon was in control or we were falling.

“Third Earth!” I screamed out over the whine of the engine.

The tunnel lit up beneath us.

“Pendragon!” Boon screamed again, this time in terror.