Courtney walked the rest of the way to Gunny’s door and used the key that was hidden overhead. Before going in, she said teasingly, “I thought it was wrong to go inside a lady’s boudoir unless it’s official business.”
Dodger answered without a trace of humor, “This is official business.”
Courtney’s smile dropped. She had never seen Dodger so serious. Courtney closed and locked the door behind them, while Dodger put the strongbox on Gunny’s kitchen table.
“So?” Courtney asked curiously.
“You said you wanted to tell me the truth. I figured I’d save you some breath.” He reached under his shirt and pulled out a chain. Hanging from it was a silver key that he used to open the strongbox. “Thing is, I already know the truth.”
Dodger opened the box and took out a handful of papers. Some were rolled up and wrapped with twine. Others were typed sheets bound into leather volumes. Courtney stared, not sure what she was seeing.
“I know it all, Courtney,” Dodger said. “Or at least, as much as Gunny does. These are the journals of the Traveler from First Earth. I told you, I’m Gunny’s acolyte.”
Courtney was stunned. “Gunny’s been sending these to you through the ring?”
Dodger nodded. “I know it all. Pendragon, Third Earth, the Hindenburg. I gotta keep that one pretty quiet. It wouldn’t do no good for the cops to find out Gunny was responsible for bringing it down. I know about Eelong and Spader and the poison from Cloral and Black Water, and even about how Kasha died. It’s all here.”
Courtney was reeling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Dodger chuckled. “Hey, I had to be careful. You weren’t sure if I was Saint Dane? I wasn’t sure if you were.”
Courtney punched him in the arm.
“Ow! What’s that for? It works both ways, you know!”
“I guess,” Courtney said insincerely. She didn’t like the idea that anybody could think she was Saint Dane.
Dodger pulled a single sheet of folded parchment out of the box. “Now that I know you’re legit, I can deliver this.”
Dodger held out the sheet to Courtney.
“For me?” Courtney asked, numb.
“Straight from Eelong, from Gunny and Spader…to you.”
EELONG
Dear Mark and Courtney,
I’m sending this note to my acolyte, Dodger, on First Earth in hopes that he can deliver it to you. You can trust Dodger. He’s a good man. If you’re reading this, you already know that. I think it’s important you learn some of the things that have happened since you left Eelong.
First off, Spader and I are doing just fine. We’re living in Black Water. It’s not First Earth, and I sure do miss the food and the friends back home, but it’s good enough. So if anybody out there is worried about us, don’t be. Until we find a way off this territory, we’ll be fine.
As I’m writing this, I’m guessing that Spader and I have been here about two years. You might say the changes we’ve seen are pretty spectacular. Edict Forty-six was defeated. The klees will not be hunting gars anymore. But that was just the beginning. There is a spirit of cooperation between the two races (or is it species?) that has turned this territory completely around. Black Water has become a center of technology and education. Their radio invention is now used throughout Eelong, and they’ve even started figuring out how to send out pictures. That’s more advanced than that television thing they’re talking about on First Earth. Isn’t that just amazing? Now there are regular gig flights between Leeandra and Black Water.
They’re about to finish a permanent railway line that will connect the two cities. In return, the klees provide security for the gars, which mostly means keeping the tang population down.
Farms are secure now that the tangs are under control, so food is no longer a problem. That’s mostly thanks to the klees. The two groups have formed a joint government. The Circle of Klee was renamed as simply the Circle. There are now two viceroys sitting on the Circle—one from Leeandra and one from Black Water. A klee and a gar. The gars are given full voting rights. It certainly is a sight to see.
I won’t kid you, there is still prejudice. Old habits die hard. Many klee still consider the gars to be an inferior race. But that’s only because the gars have only recently been given the opportunity to thrive. I believe that will change in time. Gars are now routinely sent to Black Water for education. Gars who leave Leeandra as slaves or family pets, return as vital citizens. For some klees that’s hard to accept, but more walls are breaking down each day. It’s truly miraculous.
I’m telling you all this for two reasons. One is to let you know that Spader and I are fine. We’re both teachers now! I can’t begin to describe the feeling of meeting a gar who can barely speak and eats his food from the ground, and working with him to bring out the intelligent person within. It isn’t a rare occurrence. We are personally helping to change the lives of hundreds of gars. As much as we both want to be back with Pendragon and our mission to stop Saint Dane, until that day comes, we feel that we are doing a lot of good here on Eelong. Who knows? Maybe that is the way it was meant to be.
The second reason is I want to say something about what happened at the flume when you two left with Bobby. It was a tragedy that Kasha was killed. No question. But her death was an accident. Nobody is to blame. After what we all went through on Eelong, it’s a miracle that any of us are still alive. I hope you two believe that. Her death was not your fault.
Though it’s unfortunate Spader and I are trapped here on Eelong, that too was an accident. I won’t lie to you. As much as things are working out here, we’d both rather be with Bobby. But our being here is a small price to pay for the good you two did by coming to Eelong. I know you weren’t supposed to travel. The territories are not supposed to be mingled. But if you hadn’t come, I can’t imagine the state that Eelong would be in right now. If you could see the wonderful advances that have been made, you’d agree with me. By your coming to Eelong, the turning point of this territory most definitely went the right way.
Nobody can replace Kasha. She was a wonderful klee and Traveler. If she were alive to see the Eelong of today, she would be thrilled. We’re all thrilled. As for Spader and myself, we’re proud of you two for making the tough decision and saving Eelong. Things don’t always turn out exactly the way we’d like them to, but in this case, I believe it was worth the price.
I’ll finish by saying I hope to see you again someday. With any luck, it will be at a time when Saint Dane is finally done causing mischief. That’s a time we all look forward to. Until then, be well, remember us, and always follow your instincts.
With all best wishes,
Gunny
P.S. This is from Spader, mates. Tell Pendragon that I’ve thought long and hard about the things he’s said to me. I guess you might say I’ve done a little growing up here in the jungles of Eelong. Tell him I’m ready. I’m with him. And when the time comes, I’ll follow him to the ends of Halla.
After that, the last one to Grolo’s buys the sniggers.
Hobey-ho,
Your mate, Spader
FIRST EARTH
Courtney read the letter once, then twice. When she got through it a third time, she put it down and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should cry, or laugh. She had been beating herself up over what happened on Eelong for a long time. For years. After reading Gunny’s letter, she didn’t feel any better about Kasha having died, but she felt a little more secure in knowing the decisions they’d made were smart ones. Eelong was a very big victory and that helped to ease the pain a little. Maybe more than a little.
Once again it made her miss Mark.
According to Gunny’s letter, he felt that mixing the territories in some cases was okay. Eelong was proof of that. But he hadn’t seen the negative results of what could happen when the territories were mixed. The destinies of four territories had been altered, with the threat of more to come. She was happy for Eelong, but it didn’t take
away her fear of what might be in store for Halla. As Bobby said many times, it wasn’t about winning battles, it was about winning the war. Eelong was a battle that was won. The war was far from over.
After leaving Courtney alone with her thoughts, Dodger cleared his throat. “Like I said, I know what’s going on.”
Courtney folded the note and gave it to him. He placed it back in the strongbox.
“You know a lot,” Courtney said. “Not everything.”
Courtney filled Dodger in on all she knew, starting with their lives on Second Earth before Bobby left home to become a Traveler. From there she filled in all the gaps of the story he wouldn’t know about, because Gunny didn’t know. She told Dodger about Denduron and Cloral, Lifelight on Veelox, the battle for Zadaa, the games of Quillan, and most important, the way Saint Dane had been a part of their lives as Andy Mitchell since they were little kids. She told him all about the Sci-Clops science club, and the Stansfield school where Saint Dane had turned himself into a boy that Courtney developed a crush on. It was a crush that nearly killed her. She finished by talking about the death of Mark’s parents, and about Forge technology that led to the creation of dados, the lifelike robots that had changed the course of history on Earth and on Quillan. Finally, Dodger read the letter from Patrick telling of Mark’s voyage on the Queen Mary, and his disappearance.
It was a lot easier to explain it all than Courtney thought it would be. Dodger had already accepted the concept of Halla and territories and the Travelers and, of course, Saint Dane. All she did was add to the story and bring it to where they now stood.
Dodger took it all in, then said, “So you want to find Mark and stop him from bringing this future gizmo into our time.”
“That,” Courtney said. “And save him from the danger he’s in. I believe Saint Dane’s plan for Second Earth started when we met Andy Mitchell back in kindergarten. It was all a devious plan to steer Mark into creating Forge, gain his trust, and get him to spring it on the other territories. Once that happens, I think Mark won’t be needed anymore and—”
Courtney didn’t finish the sentence. Dodger whistled in awe. “Does Saint Dane think that far ahead?”
“Time means nothing to him. He bounces back and forth between territories like we walk across the street. Saint Dane keeps talking about this thing called the Convergence. Bobby thinks that whatever it is, it’s the mother of all turning points. The turning point for Halla. By mixing the territories, Saint Dane is making sure it goes the way he wants it to. It’s not about individual territories anymore. Maybe it never was. He’s lining up the dominos. We’ve got to knock some of them out of line.”
Dodger stared at Courtney, wide eyed. “I liked it better when I thought you were from Pluto.”
Courtney grabbed a newspaper from the bed. She’d bought it when they got back to the hotel because of the big picture on the front page. It was a shot of a large ship docked in lower Manhattan.
“RMS Queen Mary,” Courtney said, staring at the picture. “Big ship.”
“The biggest,” Dodger added. “The hotel’s always lousy with passengers after they make a crossing. They say it’s the cat’s meow.”
“The what?”
“It’s a nice ship. Like a fancy, floating hotel.”
Courtney stared at the picture. “According to the database on Third Earth, Mark Dimond was on board when she sailed for England on November seventh. He never showed up in England.”
“And you think his body washed up in Jersey a few weeks later?”
“That’s what Patrick thinks. It makes sense.” She dropped the paper and paced, thinking out loud. “Mark filed his Forge technology application with the US Patent Office in October. He had a meeting scheduled with a company called ‘KEM Limited’ in London on November thirteenth and booked passage on the Queen Mary. He boarded the ship but never showed up at that meeting, and was never seen again. A few weeks later the body of a passenger in a tuxedo washed ashore in New Jersey with a spoon from the Queen Mary in his pocket. He was killed by a bullet. The body was never identified.”
“And nobody filed a missing-person report,” Dodger added.
“Because nobody knew Mark here. I think it all fits.”
“Except for one thing,” Dodger cautioned. “You’re saying all this like it’s history.” He picked up the paper and pointed to the headline. “It’s November second. The Queen Mary doesn’t sail for five days. None of that happened yet.”
“Exactly!” Courtney exclaimed. “On November seventh Mark is going to board that ship.”
“Unless we stop him.”
“Unless we stop him,” Courtney echoed.
FIRST EARTH
The next few days were busy ones. While Dodger worked his shifts at the hotel, Courtney did all she could to track down Mark. She made dozens of phone calls to different city offices, trying to find the former tenant of 240 Waverly Place, apartment #4A. She tried the housing authority, moving companies, the police department, the fire department, banks, the phone company, and even the US Patent Office again. The answer was always the same. “We can’t help you.” It was frustrating because she had to do so much legwork just to get to a place where somebody would tell her to “forget it.” There was no Internet. She couldn’t leave messages on anyone’s answering machine because those wouldn’t be invented for another fifty years. She went back to scouring newspapers for information about Mark Dimond or the Dimond Alpha Digital Organization or even KEM Limited.
Two days before the Queen Mary was scheduled to sail, she found something. It was a small item in the New York Times about a British company called “Keaton Electrical Marvels, Ltd.” They announced plans to manufacture a new, portable phonograph machine. Courtney wasn’t even sure what that was. She had to go back to Macy’s to learn it was a device that played records. The only records Courtney had ever seen were vintage albums that her parents never played anymore. But in 1937, phonographs were popular. The design made by KEM Limited was touted as being incredibly innovative, with the ability to store energy in batteries that would allow the phonograph to be played for short periods without being plugged in. The article made it sound as if this were an amazing scientific breakthrough. Of course to Courtney, it seemed about as amazing as a flashlight, but knowing that KEM Limited was involved in electronic technology made sense. She realized a company like that might be able to take Mark’s invention and actually do something with it.
The pieces of the puzzle were coming together.
However, on November 6, the day before the Queen Mary would leave, Courtney was no closer to finding Mark than she had been on November 2. It was looking more and more like the only way they would be able to stop him would be to intercept him at the ship itself. She took the train back to Stony Brook, where she put Bobby’s latest journal in the safe-deposit box. She had no idea what to expect the next day, but she knew that one way or another, things would happen. She wanted the journals to be safe. Her last stop of the day was at Macy’s, where she replaced her floppy cap that she’d lost in the sinking taxicab. She also bought Dodger a new brown fedora. She liked that it made him look like Indiana Jones. A short Indiana Jones, but still. She hoped he’d have the same luck as the fictional character.
She barely slept that night. She knew her mission on First Earth would end the next day. Either she would prevent Mark from getting on that ship, or she would fail, and history would play out the way the computers of Third Earth said it would. She vowed not to let that happen.
The next morning was sunny and warm for November. The Queen Mary was scheduled to leave the pier at 1:00 p.m. The plan was for Dodger and Courtney to be on the pier early, to intercept Mark before he could set foot on the gangway. The two arrived at the pier by 9 a.m., long before any passengers were likely to show up. They positioned themselves at the entrance to the pier, ready to inspect each and every person headed for the ship. Dodger was armed with the family photo of the Dimonds, though Courtney didn’t think Mark l
ooked much like that picture anymore. She couldn’t rely on Dodger to recognize him. It would be up to her. She positioned herself square in the middle of the mouth of the pier. They had anticipated everything…
Except for the size of the crowd. By 11 a.m. the place was packed with people. It was a carnival-like atmosphere as throngs arrived by car, by bus, by limousine, and even by horse-drawn carriage. With each passing minute the pier grew more crowded. A band played near the ramps leading to the gangways, adding to the party. People were hugging and crying and generally thrilled by the prospect of sailing on the greatest ocean liner of their time. Porters hurried along with carts loaded down with suitcases and steamer trunks. Horses and cars were put into the hold. Huge crates were hoisted up by a crane and lowered into the cargo areas.
There was far too much going on for Courtney or Dodger to recognize anyone. Making matters worse was the fact that most men wore hats, so they couldn’t get a good look at their faces. To Courtney everybody looked like Indiana Jones. She stood on a cement barricade, desperately scanning the crowd, but fearing Mark could walk right past without her knowing.
Half an hour before the ship was scheduled to sail, Dodger ran to her and exclaimed, “This ain’t workin’.”
Courtney was near panic. “He could easily have gotten past us. He could already be on board!”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Dodger announced.
He took her by the hand and pulled her through the crowd. Courtney didn’t argue. She figured anything would give them a better chance of weeding out Mark than what they were doing. The two ended up bumping into more people than they avoided, but they didn’t stop until they got to the bottom of a long gangway that led up and onto the ship.
“We’ve got to get to the purser,” Dodger announced.