It happened one night after dinner. The Ravinians had prepared a great thank-you feast that was attended by Mark, Courtney, Uncle Press, and me. It was in the Taj Mahal, of all places. It was kind of funny, actually. The Ravinian hosts weren’t the greatest cooks. The had always relied on dados to do their grunt work… or non-Ravinian slaves. But they were determined to do the right thing and insisted on cooking. Most of the food tasted like shoes, but it didn’t matter. The thought was there.
Afterward I sat with Mark and Courtney, just the three of us, on the pedestal that held the throne Saint Dane had built for himself. Mark ran his hand over the elaborate gold carvings and said thoughtfully, “In the end he became the kind of person he had such disdain for. Self-centered. Shortsighted. Selfish.”
“He was that way from the start,” Courtney offered. “He just didn’t see it.”
I added, “I really think in the beginning he believed he was doing the right thing. I mean, he was a spirit of Solara. He was created by man.”
“Yeah,” Courtney shot back. “So was Frankenstein’s monster, and we know how that turned out.”
“I guess,” I said. “I just can’t help thinking that something went wrong. He should have been stopped early on. Which makes me think, could it happen again?”
“Who knows?” Mark said.
Courtney added, “You will, Bobby. Once you return to Solara.”
She had raised the topic I had been avoiding. I hated thinking about it and what it meant.
“And while we’re on the issue of what’s to come,” Courtney said, “what’s going to happen to Mark and me?”
Which, of course, was the other topic I hated thinking about. Leave it to Courtney to put it right out there. I didn’t answer right away. I wanted to choose the right words and have it make sense. I wanted to make it easier on them. They were my friends. They helped save Halla. They deserved every ounce of respect and consideration I could give them.
“We’re not going home, are we?” Courtney asked.
Or there was that way.
I still had trouble finding words. How could I possibly-, tell them that after all they had been through, they had to live the rest of their lives in a strange future, away from their families and the life they loved so much? It wasn’t fair.
“No” was the best word I could come up with.
The three of us sat on the top step of the platform.
“It’s okay, Bobby,” he said soothingly. “We already figured it out.”
“Yeah,”. Courtney added, “blowing up that flume was a dead giveaway.”
“The worlds have to remain separate,” I said. “There’s no more traveling. Saint Dane interfered in the natural evolution of Halla and nearly brought it all down. We have to make the choice now that it can’t happen again.”
“There’s going to be a problem,” Courtney said.
“What?”
“I’ve got a library book that’s been overdue for about, oh, three thousand years. Who’s going to pay that fine?”
Courtney always made me laugh. She put her arm around me and said, “It’s all right. To be honest, I’m not sure if we’d even want to go home. We’re different people now, Bobby. What would we do? Go back to Davis Gregory High? Play volleyball? Watch TV? It’s kind of hard to go back to that after you’ve helped alter the course of the universe.”
Mark said, “Though I could sure go for some Garden Poultry fries.”
“You could always start a volleyball team here,” I offered.
“Sure,” Courtney said. “That would be a fun break from reconstructing civilization. Nice.”
We all laughed again, then fell silent. We were goofing around, but the situation was serious.
“There aren’t any words that can express how great I think you guys are,” I said. “I want to say that I’m sorry for getting you involved in this, but I’m not. If not for you, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You guys beat Saint Dane.”
“We all beat Saint Dane,” Mark corrected.
“But we did help a little,” Courtney added.
“All I can say is… thank you and I love you.”
The three of us shared a group hug. It was a sad and beautiful moment.
“There’s another question,” Mark said. “What are you going to do, Bobby?”
“Really,” Courtney said. “Starting a new life here is one thing, but I can’t imagine doing it without you.”
I had the answer. At least, I thought I had the answer. It wasn’t one they wanted to hear.
“Truth is, I don’t know,” I said. “But I can guess, and my guess is that I won’t be here much longer.”
That was it.
The impossible happened. Courtney Chetwynde cried.
JOURNAL #37
(CONTINUED)
THE END
We were gathered together for what we expected to be the last time. The ten Travelers and Uncle Press. Our final meeting took place in the same spot where I had said my good-byes to Mark and Courtney. We were in the center rotunda of the Taj Mahal. Uncle Press had called us together, and we knew why.
It was time to move on.
We stood in a circle, much the same way we had come together after the flumes collapsed. Uncle Press stood in the center, walking over the Ravinian star. The feeling was much different than when we had last gathered. Back then, we feared that all was lost. There was still fear present, but now it was the fear of the unknown. Not one of us knew what the future would hold.
“So many things have happened,” Uncle Press began. “The most important of which is that the positive spirit of mankind has triumphed. We played a role in that. We had to. Saint Dane gave us no choice. But ultimately, the battle was won by the people. And that is the way it was meant to be.”
“What about the other territories?” Gunny asked.
“Not territories, worlds,” Uncle Press corrected. “Have faith in the power of the human spirit. Without Saint Dane’s influence, they will return to the natural path. They are the masters of their own destiny once again. Change won’t happen overnight. Ravinia still exists in many places. But it will happen. I believe that, and once you all return to Solara, you will too.”
There it was. He said it. We were going back to Solara. For good. I felt a nervous ripple move through the group, and through my stomach. It was Aja who dared ask the question that was bothering us all.
“So what happens to us?” she asked. “Do we lose our personalities? Am I no longer Aja Killian? Will we even remember who we were?”
“You will,” Uncle Press answered. “And you will remember all the other lives you’ve lived and things you’ve seen. Please, don’t be afraid. I know that you’re still looking at this through the eyes of the physical beings you’ve become. But that will change. Don’t lament the loss of this life. Rejoice in the many lives you’re going to experience.”
“I kind of like this one,” Spader said, chuckling nervously. “I’m going to miss it.”
“That’s just it, you won’t,” Uncle Press said. “Trust me on this. You’re not losing something, you’re gaining.”
Alder asked, “Will we know one another? Will we be able to communicate?”
“It is a good question,” Loor added. “We have forged many strong bonds. To think that those would dissolve is disrnrhino.”
“Those bonds won’t be broken,” Uncle Press answered. “I promise. You are one. You are part of the spirit of Solara. You will always be with one another.”
I think that made everybody feel better. None of us knew exactly how it was going to work out, but we trusted Uncle Press. If he said we’d still be together, I believed him. The fact that we had all seen our loved ones made it that much more believable. The sense of relief was obvious.