Lost in Babylon

  “Spit it out,” Marco said, sitting up. “I’ve got time. I’ve been waiting for you. It gets boring here all alone.”

  He was fine. Resting in the shade, that’s all! I helped him up and bear-hugged him. “Woooo-hooo!”

  Footsteps pounded the dirt behind me. Aly and Cass ran down a path from the lower side of the ridge. They had taken the long way around.

  “Dudes!” Marco yelled. “And dudette.”

  As they jumped on him, laughing, and squealing with relief, I stepped back. My initial joy was wearing off as quickly as it had come. Our reaction seemed somehow wrong.

  I watched his face, all pleased with himself, all happy-go-lucky returning hero. Everything we’d been through, all the hardship in Rhodes, the abandonment, the awful visit to Ohio—it all began to settle over me like a coat of warm tar. I flashed back to the last time I saw him, in a room at a hotel in Rhodes. With Cass lying unconscious on a bed.

  He’d skipped out on us. As if flying off with our only chance of survival was some kind of game. He hadn’t cared about anyone at the Karai Institute. Or how many lives he’d turned upside down.

  “Brother Jack?” Marco said curiously, staring out at me from the hugfest. “’Sup? You need a bathroom?”

  I shook my head. “I need an explanation. Like, when did you come up with the idea to find a Loculus by yourself? Just, whoosh, hey, I’ll go to Iraq and be a hero?”

  “I can explain,” Marco said.

  “Do you have any idea what we’ve been through?” I barked. “We just got back from Ohio.”

  “Wait. Did you—go to my house?” he asked, his eyes widening.

  I explained everything—our trip to Lemuel, the visit to the house, the expressions on his mom and dad and sister’s faces. I could see Marco’s eyes slowly redden. “I . . . I can’t believe this . . .” he murmured.

  “Jack, maybe we can talk about this later,” Aly urged.

  But Marco was sinking against the trunk of a pine tree, massaging his forehead. “I—I never wanted to go home. I remember how painful it was for Aly when she tried to call her mom.” He took a deep breath. “Why did you go there? Why didn’t you just follow my signal here? That’s what I thought you’d do.”

  “Your tracker malfunctioned,” I said. “It was off for a couple of days.”

  “Really?” Marco cocked his head. “So you risked everything and went to the States? For me? Wow. I guess you’re right, I do owe you an explanation . . .”

  “We’re all ears,” Aly said. “Start from Rhodes.”

  “Yeah . . . that hotel room . . .” Marco said. “It was hot, the TV shows were all in Greek, Cass was asleep. All I wanted to do was take a break. You know, hop on the old Loculus, maybe scare a few goats and come right back—”

  “Goats?” I said. “Cass was in a coma!”

  “Dumbest thing I ever did. I know,” Marco said. “I’m a moron. I admit it. But it gets worse. So I’m flying around, and I get distracted by this little island called Nísyros. Looks like a volcano from the air, hot girls on the beach, you know. I swoop in close, make people scream. Fun times. Only when I get back, Cass isn’t in the room anymore. I panic. But you guys are probably already flying away. I figure, great, you’ve abandoned me.”

  “Did you actually say ‘hot girls’?” Aly said, her face curdling with disdain.

  “So I figure I’ll race you back,” Marco went on. “But how do I get back to the island of the KI Geeks? It’s halfway between nowhere and the Bermuda Triangle. And then I hear something. This voice. And here’s where it gets complicated. And awesome.” He paused, looking around.

  “Ahoy, there!” came Professor Bhegad’s voice. Fiddle was pushing him down a sandy path, about forty yards away.

  “He’s here?” Marco said, looking confused. “Wait. Four Karai peeps?”

  “This is a big deal—that’s why they’re here!” Aly said. “You could have died, Marco. Or been abducted by the Massa. Besides, aren’t you due for a treatment?”

  “I don’t need treatments,” Marco said, his voice rushed and agitated.

  “This is no joke, Marco, you could die,” Cass reminded him.

  “We need to take you back,” Aly said, glancing around. “Where’s the flight Loculus?”

  “I had to hide it. People here saw me flying. There was a crowd with cameras.” Marco reached out, gathered us into a huddle, and spoke fast. “I screwed up and I owe you all big-time. But I’ll make it worthwhile, I promise. Look, there’s some stuff I have to show you, okay? I’ve been here awhile, and I’ve found out some amazing things. Like . . . hold for it . . . Loculus Number Two.”

  My jaw dropped. “You found it already?”

  “Not exactly, but I know where it is. Interested? I thought so.” Marco began running toward the river, and of course we followed.

  He paused by the bank. Heat shimmered off the water and dragonflies flitted along the surface. Near the opposite bank, a boat floated around a bend with two people lying lazily, their fishing rods slack. “It’s there,” Marco said.

  “In that boat?” Cass said.

  “No, there—in the water,” Marco replied. “You’re Selects, just like me. Can’t you feel it? You know, that weird music thing that Jack talks about?”

  Aly scrunched her eyes. “No . . .”

  The music.

  I’d felt it in the center of Mount Onyx, when I found the Heptakiklos. It wasn’t a song, really, not even a sound that you heard through your ears. It was a kind of full-body thrum, as if my nerves themselves were being played by invisible fingers like a harp.

  Somehow, I was always the one who felt this most intensely. But right now it was only a suggestion, barely a tickle. It surprised me that Marco felt it, too.

  Marco smiled. “No offense, Brother Jack, but you’re not the only one who senses this stuff. It’s in there, guaranteed. The closer you get, the more you feel it.”

  “You went into the water to find it?” Cass asked.

  Marco nodded. His face was glowing with excitement. “Yup. I haven’t located it yet, but what I found down there will blow your mind. For real. I’m not even going to try to explain. Trust me. You have to see it.”

  Cass’s blotchy face was turning a uniform shade of white. “I—I’m happy to wait here. Swimming and I don’t really get along.”

  “I’ll hold on to you, brother,” Marco said, taking his arm.

  Professor Bhegad’s voice shouted from behind us: “My boy—come here, this wheelchair doesn’t do well on wet sand!” He was close to the bottom now. His wheelchair wasn’t liking the dry sand, either.

  Cass struggled to wrench himself away. “We can’t just jump in, Marco! We have to clear this. You may be cool about breaking the rules, but you know the KI.”

  “Why are you worried about them?” Marco asked.

  “Uh, maybe because they’re the ones in charge of our lives?” Aly said.

  Marco groaned. “They’ll require a chaperone, or an official KI submarine, whatever. That’ll take the fun out of it. We’ll do this fast, I promise. You will thank me!”

  I stepped closer to the water. Toward the sound. An hour ago we had no Loculi, and now we have a chance at two. Two of seven.

  But I stopped short. Bhegad was shouting now. Freaking out. Completely confused by what was going on. Why we were standing by the bank of a river, looking like we were about to go for a swim? Were we nuts?

  I stepped back, shaking my head. We needed the KI’s support. Marco’s flight was a huge complication. A good plan was better than chaos. Just because the Song of the Heptakiklos beckoned, I didn’t mean we had to listen right this instant. “Just give me a couple of seconds, Marco,” I said.

  As I turned toward Bhegad and the others, I felt a vise-like hand land on my shoulder. And I was flying back toward the water.

  “Banzaaiiiiii!” Marco had us all in his grip, our feet off the ground. “Take a deep breath, hang on—and most of all, trust me!”

  We had n
o choice. Together, we fell into the darkness of the Euphrates.

  CHAPTER SIX

  PEACEFUL

  MUCK. GRAY-GREEN, THICK, weed-choked muck.

  No wonder Marco couldn’t find the second Loculus. You couldn’t see three feet in front of your nose.

  As I swam, trying to keep up with him, noodle-like shapes slimed my face. Marco was holding tight to Cass. The fluorescent strip on Cass’s backpack flashed occasionally in the dim ribbons of light that somehow broke through the water. I was getting colder by the second. With my clothes and shoes, I felt heavy like a whale.

  Down . . . down . . . how far was this thing? It was practically black now. The light was way too far over our heads.

  As far down as you go, you will need an equal amount of air to swim back up. It’s what I learned in summer camp. I learned to sense when I was half spent. And I was way past that. Already my head felt light and my heart seemed about to explode.

  Marco wasn’t slowing a bit. Aly banged me on the shoulder. She was gesturing, urging me to go back up with her. I knew she was right. Marco was going to kill us. How far were we supposed to go? What exactly were we going to see—and where?

  Ahead of me, Marco had stopped swimming. He still held tight to Cass, who was now hanging limply in the water. The two of them were silhouetted by a weird, dull yellow glow below them.

  As I swam toward them, I realized I was gaining speed. An undertow.

  I tried to pull back but I couldn’t. The glow was intensifying, looming closer. It was a circle of bright tiles with a center of solid black. In front of me, Marco seemed to be changing shape—blowing out to an amorphous humanoid blob, then shrinking to clam-size.

  What’s going on?

  My head snapped back, and suddenly I was surging into the black hole as if sprung by a giant rubber band.

  As I passed through the hole, it let out a deep, threatening buzz. A halo of green-white light shot sparks from its circumference into my body. My mouth opened into an involuntary scream. I collided with Marco and Cass, but they felt porous, as if our molecules were joining, passing through one another. My left leg smacked against something hard, and I bounced away.

  I was spinning with impossible speed, as if my head were in ten places at once. And then I felt myself catapulted forward, and I thought my limbs would separate into different directions.

  But they didn’t. I flattened out, decelerating. The water’s temperature abruptly dropped, and so did its texture. All at once it had become clear and cool—and I was whole again. Solid. But the change had unsettled every biological function inside me. My brain registered relief, but my lungs were in chaos. As if someone had reached inside and squeezed them with a steel fist.

  Aly . . . Marco . . . Cass. I spotted them all in my peripheral vision, rising. But Cass’s legs hung like tentacles, undulating with each of Marco’s powerful thrusts. Those two would reach the surface first. I pushed with all remaining strength, fighting to stay conscious. Aiming toward a dull, flat-gray surface glow above us.

  My arms slowed . . . then stopped.

  I felt myself traveling to a dream world of bright sun and cool breezes. I was floating over a field of waving grass, where a white-robed shape stood from a circle embedded in the ground.

  As she turned, I could see the seven Loculi, glowing, revolving. They seemed to blend together, so their shapes merged into a kind of circular cloud.

  The Dream.

  No. I don’t want it now. Because I’m not asleep. Because if I have the Dream now, it might be because I’m dead.

  “I knew you would come.”

  The voice was unfamiliar, yet I felt it was a part of me. I knew instantly who the figure was. She turned slowly. Her eyes were the color of a clear tropical ocean, her face gentle and kind, ringed with a floating mane of glorious red hair.

  Her name was Qalani.

  Whenever I’d seen her, it had been in a ring of explosions, some kind of strange flashback to the destruction of Atlantis. In the Dream, I came close to death but always woke up.

  Here, she had come to meet me. As always, her face looked familiar. She resembled my mom, Anne McKinley—and now, deep under the Euphrates, it was more than a resemblance. It was a beckoning, a welcoming.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said.

  “I’ve been waiting,” she said with a knowing smile. “Welcome to have you back.”

  I couldn’t help grinning. Our old family saying! I’d blurted it out to Dad once, when he returned from a business trip to Manila. From then on, we always used it as our own private joke.

  I felt strangely peaceful as she reached toward me. I would be fine. I would finally be meeting her, in a better place.

  Her hand gripped my shoulder, and darkness quickly closed in.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FRESH AND DEWY

  “GAAAH!” MY FACE broke through the water’s surface. Air rushed into my mouth like a solid projectile. I sucked in huge gulps.

  She was gone.

  “Mo-o-om!” I shouted.

  “No! Marco!” a voice shouted back.

  I blinked water from my eyes. I could see Marco rising and falling on a wild current. He let go of me, swimming toward Aly, pushing her toward the bank. I could see her struggling to stand, grabbing onto Cass’s arm.

  I was too far into the middle, the deeper water. I struggled to push myself high enough above the surface for a proper breath. As I went under again, I fought to stay conscious.

  “Hang on, brother!” Marco shouted.

  His fingers locked around my arm. He was swimming beside me, pulling us both toward the bank. His arms dug hard into the frothing current. Aly and Cass were struggling onto the shore, staring over their shoulders at me in horror.

  Marco and I bounced downstream in a helpless zigzag. We careened around a jutting rock that rose up between us, forcing Marco to let go of me. Directly in our path was a downed tree. I kicked hard and up, opened my arms, and let it hit me full force in the chest. My legs swept under the wood as I held tight.

  “Marco!” I yelled.

  “Here!” Marco clung to the tree about three feet to my left, closer to the riverbank. We both hung there, catching our breaths. “How’s your grip, Brother Jack? Steady?”

  I nodded. “I think . . . I can make my way to the shore!”

  “Good—see you there!” Marco swung up onto the wood, stood carefully, and scampered toward the shore like an Olympic gymnast. Jumping onto the bank, he began calling for Aly and Cass.

  I yanked myself onto the fallen tree. Lying there, I felt my chest beating against the slippery wood. I didn’t dare try to stand. Slowly I reached out toward the shore, gripping farther along the branch. In this way I managed to shimmy along at a snail’s pace until I finally reached the bank and flopped onto the mud.

  Farther upstream, Aly had made it to solid ground. Marco was back in the river, helping Cass out of the water. I struggled to my feet. My legs ached and rain pelted my face, but I hobbled toward them as fast as I could in the soggy soil.

  A total freak rainstorm. One moment, hot and dry air. The next, this. Was this normal in the desert?

  What was going on here?

  “Jack!” Aly threw her arms around me as I arrived. Her face was warm against my neck. I think she was crying.

  “Behave, you two,” Marco said.

  I pulled away, feeling the blood rush to my face. “What just happened?” I said.

  Cass was staring across the river, looked dazed. “Okay, we jumped into the river. We hit a rough patch. We came out the other end. So . . . we should be staring across the river, at the place we left from, right?”

  “Left,” Marco said. “Right.”

  “So where is everything?” he asked. “Where are Torquin, Bhegad, Nirvana? They should have made it down here by now.”

  Aly and I followed Cass’s glance. “Looks like we were carried pretty far downstream,” I said.

  “Yeah, like a zillion miles away,” I said.


  “That,” Cass said, “would be geographically elbissopmi.”

  “How do you do that?” Aly said.

  A dense cloud cover made it hard to see north and south, but I could see no sign of human life—no settlements, no Babylonian ruins, no KI people. Just swollen river in either direction.

  “We can’t waste time—come on!” Marco was already heading up the slope into a thick pine grove.

  Cass, Aly, and I shared a wary glance. “Marco, you’re not telling us something,” I said. “What just happened?”

  Marco scampered through the trees without an answer, as if our near drowning, our battering against the rocks, had never happened. Cass looked at him in disbelief. “He can’t be serious.”

  “Chill is not in that boy’s vocabulary,” Aly said.

  We followed behind as fast as we could. My legs were bruised and my head bloody. My arms felt as if I’d been bench-pressing a rhinoceros. The slope wasn’t too steep, really, but in our condition it felt like Mount Everest. We caught up with Marco at the edge of the pine trees. Here, everything seemed a little more familiar. Just beyond the grove I could see a vast plain of dirt to the horizon. The clouds were lifting, the water-soaked ground quickly drying. Scrubby bushes dotted the landscape, which was crisscrossed by a network of wide paths cut through the plain.

  “Check it out,” Marco said, gesturing to the left.

  A giant rainbow arched through the sky, sloping downward into a city of low, square, yellow-brown buildings—thousands of them, most with crown-like sandcastle roofs. The city rose on a gentle hill, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I could see another wall deeper inside the city. The outer wall contained a mammoth arched gate of cobalt-blue tiles. In the center of the city was a towering building shaped like a layer cake. Its sides were ornately carved, its windows spiraling up to a tapered peak. The city’s outer wall was surrounded by a moat, which seemed to draw water from the Euphrates. Closer to us, outside the city limits, were farms where oxen trudged slowly, plowing the fields.

  “Either I’m dreaming,” Aly said, “or no one ever told us there was a phenomenally accurate ancient Babylonian theme park on the other side of the river.”