“What’s going to happen?” I asked.

  “It’s the rebirth of Veelox,” she said, and gave me a warm hug. She seemed truly ecstatic. “Come on!” She hurried after her father.

  Siry shook his head. He had no idea what anybody was talking about. All we could do was follow. We were lead up higher into Tribunal Mountain. We took several winding, rock stairways that brought us into the upper reaches of the peak. After walking through a long tunnel, we emerged into a room with a wide opening that gave us a spectacular view out the back side of the mountain—the side that faced away from the village. The three members of the tribunal stood at this window, looking over a vista that stretched from the dense jungles of Ibara clear down to the ocean. Siry, Telleo, and I joined them to witness a wondrous sight.

  Far below in the jungle, a wide trail snaked from somewhere deep on the island. It traveled past the mountain and on toward the sea. The trail ended at the wharf where the ten brightly colored sailing ships were kept. Nine, actually. One was at the bottom of Rubic City’s harbor.

  Genj announced proudly, “Today is the culmination of a plan that was centuries in the making. The brave people you see below are the pilgrims who will bring our world back to life.”

  There were dozens of people on the trail below, all dressed in typical, bright Ibara fashion. There were men, women, and children. All walked quickly and orderly toward the wharf and the sailing ships.

  Most of the ships had left the wharf and were headed out to sea. Even from where we stood, I could see their decks were loaded with people. Many were still on the docks, boarding the remaining ships. Others scurried around the docks, casting off lines and helping to load freight. Eight of the ships were either out on the ocean already, or starting to push off and raise their sails. It was a spectacular sight to see against the rising sun. I wished to heck I knew what it all meant.

  “It’s a proud day,” Genj said.

  It actually looked as if he were crying. The two women of the tribunal were definitely teary. They waved at the people below, bidding them farewell, though they were too far away to see it.

  “Where are they going?” Siry asked.

  “To the future,” Genj said. “Just as Aja Killian planned.”

  Hearing Aja’s name rocked me. I had forgotten that the colony of Ibara was originally her plan…conceived three hundred years before.

  “Help me out here,” I said. “What is happening?”

  Without taking his eyes from the ships, Genj said, “You saw Rubic City. Do you know of Lifelight?”

  “More than I want to know.”

  “Then you saw the destruction it caused,” Genj explained. “Millions of people died. It was self-inflicted genocide. Aja Killian was a phader who saw it coming. She banded together with the few who resisted the temptation of Lifelight and created a plan for the future of Veelox.”

  Siry and I knew of the plan. We had seen Aja’s journal. But we didn’t know it all.

  Genj continued, “They chose this island of Ibara to be their lifeboat. It was at one time a military base used to defend the mainland. Automatic weapons existed to protect it from attack. Forty people left Rubic City to start a new life here. They had a simple philosophy, which was to not let technology define their lives. They didn’t want history to repeat itself. That’s why we live the way we do, relying minimally on technology. Our culture, our way of life, was carefully planned and chosen by our ancestors. We are all the descendants of the forty.”

  Drea continued the story saying, “The first part of Aja’s plan was to create a settlement. They lived in this mountain at first, since it was already honeycombed with tunnels and rooms. Eventually they built huts that over time became the village of Rayne. Children were born. Families grew. More villages were built across the island. The sad history of Veelox and the origin of Ibara was not passed down to the young. The fear was that the temptation to rediscover Lifelight would be too great. With the passing of each generation, fewer and fewer people knew the true story. Aja’s plan allowed for a three-member tribunal that would be voted on by the villagers. Only the tribunals knew the full history, and shared as much of the knowledge as was necessary to carry out the ultimate plan.”

  “Why?” Siry asked. “Why was it so important to keep the truth a secret?”

  Genj snapped a cold look to Siry. “To keep the curious from doing exactly as you did. The fear was that temptation to leave the island would be too great. Ibara needed to be strong in order to be the seat of a new civilization. Ibara needed its people. All its people.”

  I said, “So the idea was to create a new population, right here on this island.”

  “Yes,” Genj answered. “The biggest concern was disease. A virus, an infection, any sickness would have been devastating. We needed to keep the island free from all outside contamination, and to do that, we needed to keep our people away from any contact with the rest of Veelox. As you can see, it has been successful, but only because of the secrecy.”

  I looked down on the ships. The last passengers were boarding the final vessel.

  “So what is all this?” I asked.

  Moman answered, “The pilgrimage was planned from the beginning. Once the population grew large enough to ensure our survival, we began choosing people from the general population to live in another village on the far side of the island, where they were taught the realities of Veelox. It was an honor to be chosen, for these people would be the pioneers. They would be the first to venture off this island and repopulate the world. They are the pilgrims of Rayne.”

  Genj added, “Those ships are carrying them off to start colonies throughout the mainland.”

  Siry asked, “So the people who disappeared became the pilgrims?”

  “You’re looking at them,” Genj answered. “It was Aja Killian’s vision from the beginning. It’s a shame her life ended in such tragedy.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked quickly.

  Genj answered, “Aja Killian never set foot on Ibara. After creating the plan that would save Veelox, she was assassinated by Flighters only days before the forty sailed for their new home.”

  I had mixed feelings about all that I heard. I was proud of Aja. She had first tried to save Veelox and beat Saint Dane by creating the Reality Bug. Technology is what endangered Veelox, and she tried to fight back with technology. It failed. So Aja went the opposite way and chose a route that turned its back on technology. Her plan wasn’t a quick fix. It was a battle that would be fought over centuries. It was a battle she was on the verge of winning. She wanted another shot at Saint Dane. She got it. Veelox was about to be reborn.

  Moman added, “Once the pilgrims are safely away, we will begin the final process, which is to educate the entire island of our heritage. Our population is strong enough now so that people can safely choose for themselves if they wish to stay, or reach out to the rest of our world and join the new colonies. Our mission is nearly complete. Veelox has been saved.”

  This was it. This was the turning point of Ibara. The second turning point for Veelox. It’s why Remudi was on the tribunal. The Traveler from Ibara was working to fulfill the vision of the Traveler from Veelox. It was the way it was meant to be.

  “Why today?” I asked.

  “The Flighters grow bolder,” Genj continued. “The attack two days ago forced our decision. We feared for our ships. They took many years to build. Without them, there would be no pilgrimage.” Genj left the window and went right to Siry. “Because of your adventuring, there is one less ship. We decided to go now, before we lost more.”

  Siry hung his head.

  Genj continued. “Your father lived for this day, Siry. Seeing those ships under sail, carrying the hopes for a new Veelox with them, was a sight he would have been proud to witness. I can’t say he’d be as proud of you.”

  Siry looked horrible. I wasn’t feeling so hot myself. I helped steal that ship, and I was about to throw a pretty big downer into their glorious day. Pilgrimage o
r no, there was trouble ahead.

  “Maybe we actually helped the pilgrimage,” I said.

  Genj shot me a look of disdain. “And how could you possibly think that?”

  “Because of what we found in Rubic City. There’s going to be a war, Genj. Ibara will soon be under attack. I don’t know if your defenses are strong enough to repel this army or not, but even if you’re able to protect the island, those ships would have been targets. The fact that they’re sailing safely away is already a huge victory, even if there are only nine.”

  Genj looked to the women of the tribunal with dismay. They didn’t know what to do with the information. Should they be relieved? Or terrified? My vote would have been for both. The war was coming, but for the first time since I’d seen Rubic City, I felt a ray of hope. Hearing the story of Veelox and Ibara and Aja Killian’s brilliant plan made me believe the pilgrimage was the turning point for Ibara. Saint Dane had to know that. Attacking Ibara with his army of dados would have destroyed the pilgrimage and set Veelox back again. No question. But with the launch of the fleet, the impossible had happened.

  Saint Dane was too late.

  He could attack and lay the entire island to waste, but the hope for Veelox was now out to sea. I almost laughed. Was it possible that Saint Dane would call off the attack once he realized the turning point had passed?

  “Did you know about this, Telleo?” Siry asked

  “Not everything,” she answered. “I knew the time was getting closer for pilgrims to be sent out to explore the rest of the world, but I didn’t know the reasons, or the history of Veelox. I still don’t.”

  “Tell us of your involvement, Pendragon,” Genj asked. “Who are you really and why has Remudi put his trust in you?”

  All eyes turned to me. Gulp. How was I going to explain that? I decided to simply tell them the truth about the army that was amassing in Rubic City. The tribunal had to prepare the island for war. With the passing of the turning point, I could only hope that Saint Dane would back off. But I couldn’t guarantee it. I had to convince the tribunal that they would soon be under attack.

  Unfortunately, I never got the chance. Our conversation was stopped short by a far-off sound. My heart dropped. Genj was looking right at me when we heard it. I saw the surprise in his eyes. I wanted to hold on to that moment. I didn’t want him to see what I feared was happening. This was their moment of triumph, but with that one sound I knew it wouldn’t last.

  It was the sound of cannon fire.

  “No!” cried Moman.

  Everyone ran for the opening and gazed out to sea. I walked slowly toward the opening in the rock and saw exactly what I feared. All nine ships were away from their piers and sailing toward open ocean. Most had their sails up or close to it. They were scattered along the coast, headed for different destinations.

  Beyond them were four gunboats loaded with Flighters.

  The colorful, unarmed ships that carried the hope of a new Veelox were under attack.

  Saint Dane wasn’t too late.

  JOURNAL #31

  IBARA

  I don’t know why I let myself believe, even for a second, that things might work out for the best. When has that ever happened? Ever. Saint Dane was always one step ahead of me. I started this day thinking the biggest threat to the people of Ibara would be the attack of an army of dados. Reality turned out to be much worse. These people were on the verge of a new beginning. They were about to plant the seeds that would, hopefully, grow into a new world. Those are the moments that Saint Dane targets. The moments of victory. The times when hope is at its greatest. That’s when he strikes.

  This time he struck very hard.

  The gunboats swooped in quickly. They were much faster and could outmaneuver the larger, heavier sailing ships. That much I knew because I had been in the middle of just such an attack. I had to think the pilgrim’s ships were even more sluggish because they were loaded down with people. They had no defense. Their ships had no guns. They were doomed.

  The gunboats first targeted the ships under sail. They fired round after round, point-blank into the hulls of the wooden ships. Even from far away I could hear the sound of the wooden hulls being torn apart. Two ships were on fire and the attack had barely begun. Flames ate up the sails as if they were paper. Terrified people ran up from what must have been carnage below deck. I saw adults grabbing young children and holding tight as they leaped over the side. Some clutched bags for flotation. These ships weren’t equipped with modern safety devices like life vests or rafts. The victims were on their own. Many just swam, desperate to get away from the burning ships. That didn’t stop the Flighters. They pounded away with their guns, hammering at the ships until they were nothing but floating piles of burning wood.

  The automatic defense system of Ibara surfaced from below. The strange, silver guns rose up from beneath the water and unloaded on the gunboats. But the Flighters had learned from their earlier attack. They kept moving, changing direction quickly, doubling back, weaving in and out of the pilgrim’s ships. They made it nearly impossible for the guns to hit their marks. Most of the rounds splashed harmlessly into the water.

  Worse, the pilgrims made a huge tactical mistake. They moved toward each other. Like circling the wagons in the Old West, they made a desperate attempt to protect themselves. It was the worst thing they could have done. Not only did they make themselves easier targets for the Flighters, they provided cover for the attackers from the guns. The Flighters quickly put the snarl of pilgrim ships between them and the island. Soon the guns were hitting the pilgrims’ ships. It was horrifying to see the innocent people getting slammed by the Flighters from one side, and from friendly fire on the other. In no time, each and every pilgrim ship was either on fire, sinking, or already gone. The island’s guns stopped firing, having only caused more damage. It didn’t look like a single Flighter gunboat was even nicked.

  Survivors churned the water. I expected the Flighters to attack them next. They didn’t, I’m happy to say. Small fishing boats were already under way, headed to pick them up. The Flighters didn’t bother with them, either. It was pretty clear what their mission was. Sink the pilgrim ships. That would end their quest. Murdering them would have been overkill, so to speak. It took all of twenty minutes for the Flighters to put a thundering, fiery end to generations of planning and hope. To Aja’s plan. As the last ship dipped beneath the ocean, the Flighters turned and headed back for Rubic City. They had swooped in like avenging hawks, done their job, and left as quickly as they had come.

  Battle? Did I call that a battle? There was no battle. It was a slaughter. Watching it unfold from that mountain was worse than horrible. There was nothing any of us could do except watch and cry. Genj and the women of the tribunal were in shock. They may have known about Veelox’s past from the writings of their ancestors, but I didn’t think they’d ever experienced something as swift and violent as that. There was no telling how many of the pilgrims were killed. The fishing boats were picking up dozens, but I didn’t think there was any way they could have all survived. Not the way those ships were blasted into shrapnel. This was a simple, peaceful world…that had just been rudely pulled into reality.

  Saint Dane told me that defeat is the most devastating when it comes at the moment of victory. That’s what happened before on Veelox. It’s what happened on Quillan. Seeing the pilgrim ships blown out of the water was like seeing the archives of Mr. Pop being torched on Quillan. It wasn’t just about the destruction of items or the loss of life. It was about the total and complete obliteration of hope.

  I went from stunned, to numb, to angry. Saint Dane had won. Again. He found the turning point of the territory and coerced the people to turn it the wrong way. In this case, his allies were the Flighters. They were just as much a part of Veelox as the people of Ibara. The difference was the people of Ibara wanted to rebuild. The Flighters were animals. Saint Dane liked animals. He knew how to manipulate the weak-minded, the opportunists. I wanted to scre
am. I wanted to get behind the controls of one of those defense guns and shoot something out of the water. I wanted to feel the pulverizing effect on one of those Flighter gunboats.

  My anger wasn’t just about the poor pilgrims. This was about Ibara. Veelox. Halla. The territory was there for Saint Dane to take. Ibara was the last holdout of civilization. There was no way it could stand up to an attack by the dados. After that, what? Where would Saint Dane go next? Second Earth? Third Earth? I’d never felt the kind of anger I was feeling at that moment. I guess a better word for it was “rage.” I wanted a piece of Saint Dane again, right there. I wanted to fight him. I wanted to take him apart.

  Nobody said a word. What could they say? For the tribunal the quest was over. It was a mission that had been handed down to them by their ancestors, and it had failed miserably. It was only going to get worse.

  I couldn’t let that happen. I had been forming a plan since I first saw the dados, but until that moment, I didn’t seriously consider it. It was a last-ditch act born of desperation. It was wrong. But looking down on the destruction of the pilgrim fleet, and knowing that the dados were amassing to attack Ibara made something snap in me. Yes, I was angry. Maybe it was about time. Following the proper rules that Uncle Press set out and playing fair and being the good little Traveler wasn’t working anymore. Right and wrong didn’t matter anymore. It was time to get dirty. It was time to fight back.

  “Genj,” I said. “You can’t let this cripple you. If you do that, Ibara really will be lost.”

  “We’re already lost,” he said, dazed. “It will take generations to replace those ships.”

  “What’s out there, Pendragon?” Telleo asked, frightened. “Who is doing this?”

  “Someone who wants to crush you,” I said. “Remudi knew that. Now he’s dead.”

  “Dead?” Moman repeated, shocked. “How?”

  “He died at the hands of the guy who is going to attack this island. I’m here to stop him.”