The Merchant of Death (35 page)

I could tell we were getting into hairy territory, because Uncle Press had his game face back on. “He's dangerous because you never see him coming,” was Uncle Press's answer. “He changes himself. On Denduron he has become Mallos, advisor to the queen. Bobby, you saw him back on Second Earth. He took on the form of a policeman. I'm not sure if he physically changes, or if he uses some kind of mind control to make you think he looks different, but the bottom line is you don't always see him coming. And make no mistake about it, the guy is evil.”

Uncle Press paced faster. We all listened closely because it was clear we needed to hear what he was now telling us. “But his evil isn't obvious,” he continued. “He doesn't murder, or cause floods or fires. His methods are much more devious. He will go to a territory and move himself into a position where he can
influence
events. He's smart and convincing. He'll appear to be your friend while the whole time he's pushing you toward disaster.”

“Like with the Bedoowan?” I asked.

“Exactly,” shot back Uncle Press. “The Milago and the Bedoowan have been in conflict for centuries, but Saint Dane has pushed it to the edge. Before he got here things were rough for the Milago, but nowhere near as bad as they are now. He worked his way into the trust of Queen Kagan—”

“Who isn't exactly a rocket scientist,” I added.

“No, she isn't,” he agreed. “For a while it was looking as if the Bedoowan might cut the Milago some slack, but it was Saint Dane's influence that convinced the Bedoowan to push harder. He's the one who started the unreasonable demands for
glaze and the Transfer ceremony and the horrible quig slaughters in the stadium. It looks to the Milago as if the Bedoowan wanted all this, but it was really Saint Dane, or Mallos as he calls himself here. He whispers suggestions to Kagan, and she makes them law.”

“But . . . why does he do this?” asked Alder.

“To push the territory toward chaos,” was Uncle Press's firm answer. “Saint Dane doesn't care about the Bedoowan or the Milago. He's using the Bedoowan to push the Milago into getting so desperate that they will fight back. He wants a war. But not just any war, he wants the Milago to use tak. I see that now.”

“He wants them to blow everybody up?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” he continued. “Yes, using that bomb will cause terrible damage, but the long-term effects are what Saint Dane is after. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't. I didn't know about tak.”

“Could Saint Dane have brought it from another territory?” I asked.

“I doubt it. My guess is that it's natural to Denduron and somehow Figgis stumbled across it . . . and Saint Dane is taking advantage. Tak now represents power to the Milago. They've been held down for so long that they'll grab at anything to pull themselves up. But once they start using tak on the Bedoowan, where will it stop? They could create weapons that would make them the most powerful tribe on Denduron. There are thousands of tribes here. None of them have a weapon like this. Putting the power of tak into the hands of one tribe is like tipping the balance. The Milago may be a peaceful bunch now, but they've got years of pent-up anger. Put that kind of power in their hands and they could overrun Denduron. That's the kind of chaos Saint Dane is looking for.”

There it was. Loor had told me about the mission of the Travelers, but Uncle Press had now spelled it out pretty clearly. If this war began and the Milago used tak, it would be disaster. It really was a bigger deal than just a battle between two warring tribes. But there was something else that was bugging me.

“What is Halla?” I asked Uncle Press.

Uncle Press shot me a surprised look. “Where did you hear that name?”

“From Saint Dane,” I said. “Before he took us to the stadium he told me that Halla would fall and we would fall with it. What is Halla?”

“Halla is everything,” he answered. “Every territory, every person, every living thing, every
time
there ever was. Halla is what separates order from chaos. If Halla crumbles, there will be nothing left but darkness. Everywhere. For everyone.”

Whoa. Now there was a concept to try and get my mind around. None of us spoke for a long while. We had just shifted into a new gear here. Was it possible? Could it be that the battle between the Milago and the Bedoowan was not only about the future of Denduron, but about the future of
all
territories? If things turned sour here, could that somehow affect things back home? This was the most devastating thing I had heard so far. The stakes had become so huge that it was hard to comprehend. Before any of us had the chance to ask another question, the wooden door to the hut flew open and a Milago miner stormed in.

“Rellin wishes to see you,” he announced.

Uncle Press stood, but the miner held his hand up to stop him.

“Not you,” he said. “Pendragon.”

“Rellin wants to see
me
? What for?”

“Go with him, Bobby,” said Uncle Press. “Listen to what he has to say. You know how important it is.”

Yeah, this was important all right. It was so important that I wished somebody
else
were going. But I got up to follow the miner out of the hut. Before I left, I looked at Uncle Press. “I messed up,” I said. “I'm sorry.”

Uncle Press smiled and said, “It's okay, Bobby. Mistakes will be made.”

That actually made me feel better. We were still in deep trouble and it was still my fault, but at least I didn't feel like a total nimrod for what I had done. One thing I could say for sure though: I wouldn't do it again. I guess that's what Uncle Press meant by telling us we would have to learn about being Travelers by experiencing it ourselves. You don't truly learn something until it's real, and the bomb that was about to blow us all into dust was very real. It's a tough way to learn a lesson.

I followed the miner out of the hut. Night had fallen, though I had no idea what time it was. My watch was floating in the latrine, remember? The village was empty. I could see lights coming from the huts, but nobody was walking about. It felt like the calm before the storm. The miner walked quickly until we came to one of the larger huts. He motioned for me to enter. It wasn't like I had a whole lot of choices, so I went in.

Rellin was waiting for me. He sat near the fire and offered me a cup of some kind of liquid. I wasn't sure if I should take it or not. Maybe it was poison. Or maybe it was a peace offering and by not taking it I'd be insulting him. I decided to take the cup and only pretend to drink. Of course if it was poison and I didn't clutch my throat in agony he'd pretty much know I faked taking a drink. Maybe I was overthinking this.

Once I had taken the cup and faked the drink (with no reaction from Rellin) he stood up and walked to a wooden table. Lying there was the battery from my flashlight. But something was attached to it. I looked closer and my stomach twisted when I saw that it was a small piece of tak. The wires and the switch had been pulled out of the flashlight and were used to connect the tak to the battery. These guys learned fast. They had made a little bomb. If they flipped the switch from the battery, it would complete the circuit and send a jolt of electricity through the tak. It may be a small jolt, but probably enough to detonate the unstable explosive. Rellin picked it up and examined it. I wanted to shout for him to be careful, but I could see that he appreciated the power and was handling it with caution.

“We have been trying to find a way to control tak,” he said. “But until now we have been unsuccessful.”

My mind flashed back to the moment down in the mines when there was an explosion and Rellin had to be rescued. He was probably experimenting with tak and something had gone wrong. Slowly the pieces of the puzzle were coming together.

“This is how we will ignite the tak,” he continued. “Tomorrow this small device will explode and that will set off the larger load. When my army hears the explosion it will be their signal to attack. They will then overrun what is left of the Bedoowan. It will all be so very simple, because of you.”

Gee, thanks. I'm thrilled that I could help us all move closer to Armageddon. Rellin put the small bomb down and sat back by the fire. He motioned for me to sit across from him.

“You have seen our lives,” he said sadly. “We are dying. The Bedoowan will never allow us to be free. Tak is our salvation. With tak the Milago can pull themselves up from the dirt
and become the proud people we were destined to be.”

He was absolutely right. The Milago had it bad. They lived like tortured animals. Nobody deserved that. They had every right to fight back, but they didn't understand that they were going about it the wrong way.

“You and your people want to help us,” he continued. “For that we are grateful. But there is one thing we need from you that will be more helpful than you can imagine.”

“What's that?” I asked warily.

Rellin stood up and walked quickly back to his little homemade bomb. He picked it up and held it out as if it were the Holy Grail.

“Bring us more of these devices,” he said with passion. “If we had more we could become the most powerful army on Denduron. Once the Bedoowan are defeated, the Milago would never have to live in fear again. We could turn our miserable lives around to become the leaders of Denduron!”

Oh, man. Uncle Press was absolutely right. Now that the Milago had a little taste of power, they weren't going to be satisfied with just beating up on the Bedoowan. They hadn't even won yet and they already had visions of taking over the rest of Denduron. The good guys were going to become the bad guys, and the result would be chaos.

“Will you help us, Pendragon?” asked Rellin sincerely.

This was my chance. Maybe my
only
chance to try and talk Rellin out of his plan. I couldn't argue against centuries of hatred, so the best thing I could do was try and make him see the downside to his plan. I had to choose my words carefully.

“I'm not an expert on these things,” I said. “But if you blow up that big load of tak, there may not be much left of the Bedoowan to conquer. Heck, there may not be much left of the Milago, either. Where I come from, there are many
weapons like this. But the biggest fear we have is that they will be used. You don't understand what you're doing, Rellin. Your lives may be horrible now, but you may be worse off after the explosion. There must be a better way.”

“No!” he shouted angrily.

I hadn't chosen my words carefully enough.

“You do not understand!” he yelled at me. “You have not lived your life in fear, in pain, in hunger. This is the only way. This is how the Milago will defeat the Bedoowan. Now, will you help us?”

Key moment.

“I'll help you,” I answered as firmly as I could. “We'll all help you. But not if it means using tak.”

Rellin stiffened and said, “Then go back to your friends. You will not be harmed. When the battle is over you will be free to leave.”

My mind was racing. I wanted to come up with something to change his mind, but I was drawing a blank. The truth was I didn't know how the Milago could possibly defeat the Bedoowan without the help of something like tak. I couldn't offer a better solution. I had one chance and I blew it. But then a thought hit me.

“How will you explode the bomb?” I asked. “If someone pushes that switch, then they'll go up with it.”

Rellin straightened up proudly. “It will be an honor to die in the name of freedom for the Milago.”

Oh, man. Rellin was going on a suicide mission. This wasn't about personal glory or power. This was a good man who cared about the future of his people more than he cared about his own life. There was nothing more for me to say, so I left the hut feeling sorry for him, but also feeling incredible respect. . . and fear. If someone was ready to die for his cause,
a dweeb like me had no chance of talking him out of it. That bomb was going to explode tomorrow and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

The miner led me back to the hospital hut where I quickly told the others about my meeting.

“So then it is true,” said Loor. “The Milago will become a powerful, warring tribe and destroy all of Denduron.”

“That's if they don't blow themselves up with that humongous bomb first,” I added.

There was still a big question to be answered. Where were the Milago going to explode the bomb? They couldn't very well do it around here or their own village would be vaporized. They may have been primitive but I'm sure they figured that little detail out. No, they must be planning on exploding it near the Bedoowan palace. But how could they pull that off? It's not like they could drop it off on the palace doorstep, ring the doorbell and run away. As soon as they got within a hundred yards of the place the Bedoowan knights would stop them. They must have a plan, but what?

The answer turned out to be so simple I probably should have figured it out myself.

The next morning we were all awakened by the same thing. It was a deep, constant booming sound. I was still asleep and at first it had worked itself into my dreams. I dreamed that I was in a battle. Explosions were going off all around me. No matter which way I turned, another explosion would go off in my face. It was like I was trapped in a minefield. As I began to wake up I realized that I wasn't in a minefield, I was in the hospital hut of the Milago village. But the deep booming sound continued. What was it? I lay there for a few seconds, trying to remember where I'd heard it before. Then suddenly, it hit me. I knew exactly where I had heard it before and the realization
shocked me wide awake. I sat up quickly to see that the others were already awake and looking out of the small windows of the hut. I didn't have to ask what they were looking at. I already knew.

The sound I heard was the sound of the drum calling the Milago to a Transfer ceremony. I could picture the single drummer standing on the wooden platform in the clearing of the Milago village, slowly but steadily hitting that drum. The memory wasn't exactly a pleasant one, because it ended in the horrible death of a Milago miner. I truly hoped that this Transfer wouldn't end the same way.