QUILLAN
The flume.
As impossible an experience as flying through time and space may be, it has become the only time when I can totally relax. There are no surprises, nobody lurking around the corner waiting to pounce, no Saint Dane. I hope it stays that way. Once I announce the territory where I’m headed and get swept into the crystal tunnel of light and music, I can relax. I think back to that very first flume ride from Second Earth to Denduron and how flat-out terrified I was. Now I’m at peace. It’s almost like a flume ride recharges my batteries. I do think there’s a whole lot more to these magical tunnels than simply being highways across the cosmos, though. There has to be some kind of intelligence at work here. How else would the flumes know where to send us? More importantly, how else would they know when to send us? We always arrive where we need to be, when we need to be there. Even if there are two gates on a territory, we always end up at the gate where we need to be. I’m sure that when I learn the truth about the Travelers and Halla and Saint Dane, I’ll also learn all about the flumes and how they can do what they do. Until then, I’ll accept the flume rides as being my little vacation away from reality while speeding me to my next destination.
Still, there is one thing that haunts me about the flumes. Ever since Saint Dane won the battle for Veelox, I’ve been seeing strange, ghostly images floating through the starfield beyond the crystal walls as I travel through the cosmos. The black sky full of sparkling stars is now littered with near-transparent living pictures of people and things that exist on the various territories. I’ve seen the Hindenburg from First Earth, along with Jinx Olsen’s flying seaplane. I’ve seen the white-skinned Novans of Denduron marching in line, and underwater speeders from Cloral being chased by bloated spinney fish. Batu warriors from Zadaa have floated alongside zenzen horses from Eelong. I’ve seen immense Lifelight pyramids from Veelox and even small animals that look like cats from Second Earth. Many things I don’t recognize. I’ve seen swarms of people holding spears in the air, cheering for something or other. I’ve seen stiff-looking muscular men, running quickly, with stern faces and sharp jaws. I wouldn’t want to get in their way. I’ve even seen some clown faces, laughing maniacally. I hate clowns. Have I mentioned that?
There are thousands upon thousands more images that I won’t bother to describe, because I think you get the idea. Many I recognize, but just as many I don’t. They are ghosts from all the territories, floating together in the sea of space. That’s why it makes me uneasy. We all know that elements from the territories are not supposed to be mixed. We’ve learned that the hard way over and over. Yet here in space, or wherever it is, the images of all the territories are jumbled together. It’s not like they are interacting or anything. It’s more like I’m watching movies projected all over the place.
But seeing these images right next to one another makes me realize just how different each of the territories is. They all have their own histories and their own destinies. That can’t change. Mixing them would be like throwing random numbers into a perfect equation. The result won’t be the same. I think that’s what would happen to the territories if the cultures were mingled. None of the territories would be the same and that could be disastrous.
Which is exactly what Saint Dane wants. He’s played fast and loose with the rules about mixing elements between territories, and I’m beginning to realize why. The more he can throw a territory off balance, the easier it will be for him to send it all crashing into chaos. I believe he’s not only working to push the turning point of each territory toward disaster, but he’s helping his cause by mixing them together as well. What does that all mean to me besides making my stomach twist? Nothing, except that it’s all the more reason he must be stopped. As I was speeding through the flume toward Quillan, I couldn’t help but wonder if those images floating in space were there as a warning, or evidence that the worst had already begun and the walls between the territories were beginning to crumble.
It was the first flume trip that I didn’t enjoy.
I didn’t have time to sweat about it for long, though. I heard the jumble of sweet musical notes that always accompany me on a flume ride begin to grow louder and more complex. This familiar song signaled that I was nearing the end of my trip. I took my focus away from the images in space and looked ahead. A bright light shone at the end of the tunnel. I was about to arrive on Quillan. The time for theorizing was over. The show was about to begin.
As the cushion of light gently deposited me on my feet, every sense to get my bearings. It was dark, but that could have been because I had just been sailing along in a shower of light. I needed a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. I waited with my knees bent, ready to jump at the first sign of trouble. After only a few seconds I heard an odd noise. It sounded like chattering. I’m not sure how else to describe it. There was a series of high-pitched clicking noises coming from somewhere off to my right. They didn’t sound dangerous or aggressive. Just… odd. I strained to hear, but it stopped. Silence. All I heard was the faint echoing of the musical notes as they receded into the depths of the flume. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to step into something stupid. I waited a solid minute, but the noise didn’t come back. Whatever it was, it was gone.
Looking around, I saw nothing but black. Swell. I would have given anything for a flashlight… assuming they had flashlights on Quillan. Another minute passed, and I figured I wasn’t doing any good standing in the dark, so I took a tentative step forward and… smack! I walked right into a wall. Head first. Ouch. I took a quick step back, feeling more stupid than hurt. I reached out, more carefully this time, and eased forward until my hand touched the wall. At least I thought it was a wall. It sure felt like one. It was hard. It was flat. It stretched out to either side of me. You know… wall. The space between the opening to the flume and this wall seemed to be only a couple of feet. It was the smallest gate area yet. Of course, I knew there had to be a way out, the trick was finding it. I took a few steps back into the flume to get some perspective. I stood there for a few seconds until, slowly, I began to make out cracks in the wall. Actually, they looked more like seams. The lines were straight, crossing one another, forming a grid pattern with two-foot squares. I didn’t see this at first because I was so close to the wall and my eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark. The light coming through was very faint. But it was there. I knew there had to be a way out, so I slowly scanned the wall, looking for anything that might be a doorway, or a window, or a hole. I didn’t care. I was starting to get claustrophobic.
I heard the clicking sounds again. This time to my left. I shot a look that way to see… nothing. But there was no mistake. Something was there. I had no way of knowing how far off in each direction this wall stretched. The seams disappeared off to either side. It’s not like they ended abruptly, they just kind of faded out into the dark. This wall could have gone on for miles for all I knew.
The chattering stopped. Whatever it was, was creeping me out. I wanted out of there. Out of desperation I walked up to the wall, put my hand on it, and started pushing. I reached up over my head and pushed on one of the squares that was marked off by the seam of light. It didn’t budge. I moved my hand down, pushing on the square below it. Nothing happened. My thinking was that maybe one of these squares was also a doorway of some kind and…
It didn’t take me long to find it. The fifth square pushed out. One side was on a hinge. Instantly light flooded in. I glanced back to the flume to see the big, round mouth of the rocky tunnel. I looked off to the sides to see if I could catch a glimpse of whatever it was that was doing all the clicking, but my pupils had already contracted because of the light. All I saw was pitch black. The mystery would have to wait. The door was about at my waist and just large enough for me to enter. I put one leg through, then ducked down and put my head through, and finally I dragged my other leg behind.