The Never War Read online

  The head suddenly dipped down toward us. We both hit the floor. For a second I thought she was going to take a bite.

  “I said I’ll ask the questions!” she roared.

  “Sorry, mate,” yelled Spader. “No worries. I’m with you now.”

  The head floated back higher without taking a chomp. Spader and I exchanged worried looks.

  “Why did you come here?” asked the giant blonde girl-head thing.

  “Spader and I are Travelers,” I said. “We followed someone here. His name is—”

  “Saint Dane isn’t here now,” the head announced.

  Whoa. The head was a couple of steps ahead of us…no pun intended.

  “Uhh, sorry to disagree,” Spader said. “But he definitely came here from Cloral.”

  The big head rolled her eyes like we were annoying her, and said, “I didn’t say he was never here. I said he’s not here now. Weren’t you listening?”

  Spader and I shot each other looks. This was getting even stranger. We were talking to a big, floating, obnoxious head.

  “Watch,” the head said impatiently, as if she were talking to a couple of naughty children. “This happened a few minutes ago.”

  The head then disappeared. Just like that. It faded out like a movie. I began to wonder if it had really been there or if it were some kind of projection. We were in the dark again, in more ways than one. But not for long.

  Another light began to grow. At first I thought the head was coming back, but what appeared right in front of us was another image entirely. It looked like the mouth of the flume! It was like a 3-D movie projected in space. Very cool. That started to explain the giant head. My guess was these guys on Veelox had some hot technology going on.

  Spader backed off. “What is this, Pendragon?” he asked nervously.

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. “I think it’s like a movie.”

  “Oh,” Spader said. “What’s a movie?”

  The image of the flume then came to life. Bright light shone from the mouth and the musical notes told us that somebody was about to arrive. And then this strange movie took an interesting turn.

  Saint Dane stepped out of the flume.

  “Hobey!” shouted Spader in surprise.

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. “It’s just pictures.”

  Saint Dane stood in the mouth of the projected flume. This may have been a hologram movie, but it sure looked real. His long gray hair cascaded over the shoulders of his dark suit, and his piercing blue eyes cut through me as if he were actually standing there. Saint Dane even gave us a wave, as if he knew we were watching him.

  Even though I’m still trying to understand where we fit into this whole Traveler picture, there are a few things I know all too well. Mostly they have to do with our mission and with the guy who was standing before us in a hologram—Saint Dane.

  Halla is in danger because of him. Halla is everything—every territory, every person, every thing, and every time that ever existed. I know, it doesn’t make total sense to me, either, but that’s what I’ve been told. Saint Dane is a Traveler who wants to control Halla. In a word, he is evil. But simply calling him evil is like saying Tiger Woods is a good golfer. Saint Dane is the Tiger Woods of bad. He enjoys causing pain and suffering. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. It isn’t pretty. If he gets his way and somehow takes control of Halla, well, I don’t even want to think about that.

  The only thing standing between Saint Dane and his wicked plans are the other Travelers. That’s us. Every territory is reaching a critical turning point. Saint Dane is doing his worst to influence these important events so that each territory will fall into chaos. If he succeeds, then all of Halla will fall to him.

  We’ve got to make sure he doesn’t succeed.

  So far we are 2 and 0. Denduron and Cloral were wins. But it’s going to be a long war.

  As we stood staring at the hologram of Saint Dane, every fear I had about the guy came screaming back. He was one bad dude. I watched as his recorded image turned back toward the flume.

  “First Earth,” he commanded.

  An instant later the light and music swept him up and carried him into the tunnel. The image then faded out and the flume projection was gone. We were back in the dark.

  “Now do you understand?” the girl-head’s voice boomed out of the darkness. “He was here. He left. End of story. Now go away.”

  “Who are you?” I called out to the girl-head. “Why should we believe that?”

  Another hologram appeared before us. It was the same view of the flume as before. Again, the tunnel activated with light and music. Who was going to arrive this time? A second later Spader and I watched as…

  Spader and I stepped out of the flume in the hologram!

  “I’ve gone totally off my nut,” Spader said in awe.

  “Whoa, Veelox is dark,” the projection of Spader declared.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” the projection of me said. “Let’s wait a second for our eyes to adjust.”

  It was exactly what had happened a minute before.

  “My name is Aja Killian,” boomed the head voice as our holograms disappeared.

  Spader and I spun around to see the big head had returned. It hovered over us like a blond cloud.

  “I’m the Traveler from Veelox,” she said. “I’ve got the flume monitored and I record everything that happens. That’s why I know Saint Dane isn’t here anymore. Any more questions?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Would you please stop with this giant-head thing and show yourself? If you’re a Traveler, then we’re all friends here.”

  I was feeling a little more bold now, and getting tired of staring up at this girl.

  “I would,” Aja answered. “But I’m nowhere near you.”

  Spader said, “So you’re telling us that Saint Dane flumed in here for a second, then flumed right back out again?”

  “I’m not telling you,” she said curtly. “I just showed you. Don’t you believe what you see?”

  Spader looked at me and asked softly, “Why did he leave so fast?”

  “Because he’s wasting his time here,” Aja answered quickly. “Veelox is totally under control.”

  I laughed and said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought about Cloral, until people started turning up dead.”

  “Look,” the Aja-head scolded. “Nobody comes or goes through the flume without my knowing. He’s not here. So go chase him to First Earth where you can be more useful.”

  Spader and I shared looks. “I guess she told you!” he said with a raised eyebrow.

  I looked back up at the Aja-head and said, “If you think he’s dumb enough to be controlled by your little home movies, then you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

  That seemed to strike a chord. The big head floated down closer to us and stared me right in the eye. It took all I could do not to back off.

  “And what makes you the expert on all things Saint Dane?” she asked with disdain.

  “I’m not,” I answered. “But I’ve battled him twice and both times been lucky enough to win. How about you?”

  Aja-head blinked. I don’t think she liked being challenged. She floated back up higher.

  “If you take him on alone, you’ll lose,” added Spader. “He won’t get spooked by a big floating head…like us.”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” she said sarcastically.

  Aja Killian was the Traveler from Veelox, and she thought she was smarter than Saint Dane. That was dangerous. I knew we’d be back on Veelox sooner or later. I just hoped that when that time came, we wouldn’t have to fight both Saint Dane and Aja Killian.

  “Go to First Earth,” Aja-head scolded. “Have fun, play your little games. Don’t worry about Veelox.”

  With that, the giant head disappeared. Spader and I were once again alone.

  “Fun?” Spader said. “I can think of a lot of things to call the tum-tigger we’re headed into. Fun isn’t one of them.”

 
“Should we believe her?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure we have a whole lot of choice,” Spader answered. “Looks like Saint Dane came here to throw us off, and the big-head girl caught him.”

  “Then we’re on the wrong territory, again.” I said.

  “He went to First Earth,” Spader said. “That anything like Second Earth?”

  “I think we’re about to find out.”

  The two of us then stepped into the mouth of the flume.

  First Earth.

  Being from Second Earth I couldn’t help but think I would be going home. At least that was what I hoped. I didn’t know that we were about to flume into the laps of two murderous gangsters who were waiting for us with machine guns.

  Yes, the real fun was about to begin.

  JOURNAL #9

  FIRST EARTH

  “You’re lucky,” Mr. Nasty Gangster chuckled. “It’ll be quick. You won’t feel a thing.”

  “How would you know?” asked Spader nervously.

  The two gangsters held their machine guns on us, keeping us from moving off the subway track. To our right, a subway train was barreling along, headed our way.

  This was not a happy homecoming.

  “Trust me,” the gangster answered. “There won’t be enough of you left to feel nothin’.”

  How’s that for a grim thought?

  “We were just supposed to scare ’em,” the nervous gangster said. “Not splatter ’em.” The guy looked like he was having second thoughts. I liked this guy. At least I liked him better than the guy who wanted us dead.

  “They’ll be scared all right,” the nasty gangster chuckled. “Just before they catch the train.”

  Or the train catches us.

  “But—” the nervous guy protested.

  “Hey, we’re on our own now,” Nasty shot back. “I’m calling the plays.”

  The track beneath our feet was now shaking from the imminent arrival of the death train. The headlight was shining on us. The horn shrieked. The trainman must have seen us, but it was too late to stop. The express was coming through whether we were on the track or not.

  Believe it or not, in spite of what Mr. Nasty thought, I wasn’t scared. That’s because I knew how we were going to escape. It was going to be pretty simple. The tricky part would be timing.

  “I think we should move, mate,” Spader whispered to me. “This could be a messy-do.”

  “Wait,” I said.

  “Bye-bye, boys!” shouted the gangster over the screaming horn.

  The train was nearly on us.

  “Uh, Pendragon?” Spader whined.

  “Now!” I shouted.

  I grabbed Spader’s arm and we both jumped back, off the track. Instantly the train flashed by in front of us. What did those two idiot gangsters think? We were going to stand there and get slammed?

  “Run!” I yelled.

  The speeding train was now between us and the gangsters. We had a short window of protection. Using the train as a shield, Spader followed me toward the abandoned subway station. With any luck, the train would have enough cars to give us time to get there. It was about forty yards from the gate to the old platform. Not a long run, but it was tricky because we had to do it on another track that ran parallel to the one the train was on. One misstep and we’d go down with twisted ankles.

  I shot a quick glance back over my shoulder to see how long the train was. Luckily there was still a bunch of cars to come. Our luck was holding. I figured we’d hit the station right about the time the train passed us. Then we could jump up on the platform and book out of there. I took another glance back and saw that the last car was almost on us.

  “Stay with me!” I shouted back to Spader.

  A second later the train whipped by us. I put on the brakes, ready to leap across the track and climb up onto the platform of the abandoned station. But what I saw in the next instant jolted me to a standstill. The two of us stood across from the abandoned station platform to see…

  It wasn’t abandoned anymore!

  I couldn’t believe it. Everything up until now was exactly as I remembered it: the flume, the gate, the tracks, even the location of the platform. Everything was the same, except for the station. The place was lit up and busy with people. The token booth was open and selling fares to passengers flooding down the stairs; the grimy, broken tiles on the walls looked new and clean; and there was a busy newsstand selling papers to eager customers. How could this be?

  “Now’s not the time to stop, mate,” warned Spader.

  He was right. We leaped over the track and hoisted ourselves up onto the platform. People stared at us in shock. I guess they weren’t used to seeing people scramble across active tracks, especially not when a train had just blasted through. Spader stood up, winked at an older woman who was watching us, and said with a charming smile, “No worries, mum. Routine inspection. Everything checks out spiff.” The woman stared back in total confusion.

  An idea hit me and I pushed my way through the passengers toward the newsstand. There was a stack of newspapers right in front. If I was right, the paper would tell me everything I needed to know. I picked it up, stared at the front page, and my whole body went numb.

  “What’s the trouble?” Spader asked as he came up behind me.

  “It’s 1937,” I said, barely believing my own words. “First Earth is in 1937.”

  “Right,” he said, trying to understand. “What does that mean?”

  “It means this is my home territory, but in a time more than half a century before I was born.”

  The date on the newspaper was March 10, 1937. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but there it was in good old black and white.

  “You gonna buy that paper, mac?” growled the news vendor. “This ain’t a lendin’ library.”

  The guy was a pudgy, gruff-looking munchkin who hadn’t shaved in a few days. He wore a wool cap with a visor and chewed on a stubby cigar that looked like a rotten stick. It didn’t smell much better than it looked. I slowly put the paper down and took a look around the station. Now it made sense. The station was open because it wasn’t abandoned yet.

  I now registered what the people were wearing. It looked like an old-time movie with men wearing suits and hats and women all wearing dresses. I didn’t see a pair of jeans or sneakers in the place.

  We really were in the past.

  “Howdy, Buck Rogers!” came a voice from behind us. “Bring any spare change from outer space?”

  We both turned to see a tall, gray-haired African American man in a long, woolen coat walking toward us. Buck Rogers? Oh, right. Spader and I were still wearing the swim clothes from Cloral. We must have stuck out like orange on black.

  “Sorry,” I answered the man. “I’ll catch you next time.”

  “That’s all right,” he said with a chuckle. “Give my regards to Ming the Merciless.”

  Suddenly the sound of machine-gun fire shattered the station.

  There were screams of panic as everybody ducked down. I couldn’t believe it. Were the gangsters shooting up the place? Spader and I ducked down and looked to the far side of the platform where the shooting came from. Standing there were the two gunmen, still wearing white handkerchiefs over their faces. The nasty guy in charge had fired his machine gun into the ceiling. The weapon was still smoking.

  “Everybody freeze!” he shouted. “We’re lookin’ for a couple of wise guys dressed like spacemen.”

  That was us. There was no way we could blend into this crowd. I looked around, hoping a cop was on duty. If there was, he was just as scared of these nimrods as everybody else, because he wasn’t stepping forward. We were on our own.

  The gangsters started walking slowly through the station, scanning the crowd. People were crouched down all around us, afraid to move. I caught the eye of a woman who looked at us with fear. She knew we were the guys they were looking for. But she didn’t say anything. Maybe she was afraid of getting caught in the crossfire. Spader and I
glanced around, desperate to find an escape route.

  “Here! Over here!” somebody yelled. It was the news vendor guy. I looked up and was shocked to see he was leaning out of his newsstand, pointing us out to the gangsters. Nice guy.

  Spader and I had no choice but to stand up. Everybody else stayed on the ground. If the gangsters wanted to open fire, they’d have a clear shot at us. I think the term was “sitting ducks.” Or maybe it was more like “standing ducks.”

  The gangsters turned to us and raised their machine guns.

  “What is all the ruckus here?”

  It was the African American guy who had called me Buck Rogers. He stepped between Spader and me and put his arms around our shoulders. “You think shootin’ up these spacemen will get rid of ’em?” he declared. “No sir-ee! I seen this in the movin’ pictures! You shoot ’em up and they’ll just start duplicatin’! That what you want? Bunch of little blue spacemen running around?”

  “Get outta the way, old man,” snarled the nasty gangster. “Unless you want to blast off with ’em.”

  “Now there’s an idea!” said the man.

  Just then, another subway train entered the station. But rather than speed through, this one slowed down to a stop.

  “I always wanted to see what was goin’ on up there in outer space!” the old guy cackled. “Maybe now’s my big chance!”

  The head gangster smiled and brought his machine gun up higher, ready to fire. The second gangster kept glancing nervously between us and his partner. “Suit yourself, old man,” said the nasty gangster.

  “Oh, I don’t think you want to go doin’ that,” said the old man with such certainty that it actually made the nasty gangster hesitate.

  “Look around,” he continued. “All these fine people are watching.”

  The nervous gangster was already looking at all the people whose eyes were fixed on them. Now the nasty gangster took a quick look too. He was having second thoughts.

  The subway train came to a stop, the doors opened, and people flooded out onto the platform. A few saw what was going on and quickly jumped out of the way. Others ducked back inside the subway car. The old guy kept his hands on our shoulders and led us over toward the train. As we walked, he kept talking.