The Lost City of Faar (10 page)

“Put these on my tab, Grolo!” announced Spader as he jumped off the bar. “I've got business with my friends.”

“You don't have a tab, Spader,” barked Grolo.

“Then start one for me!” Spader shot back with bravura.

Grolo waved him off with a mock disgusted gesture. I didn't think he minded giving away a few pints of sniggers to Spader. The aquaneer was the life of the party here at the tavern. The more stories he told, the more everyone else drank sniggers. Spader was good for business. He put an arm around Uncle Press, his other arm around me, and led us away from the group toward the front door.

But when we reached the table of agronomers, he suddenly stopped and turned us to them. The scientists stopped their work and looked up to us expectantly.

“We just want you mates to know,” said Spader, “we think you are doing a bang-up job. Really.”

The scientists didn't know how to react. They just sat there and stared at us.

“Now get back to work!” snapped Spader and led us
toward the door. As we walked he whispered to us, “Scientists. They're brilliant but easily confused.”

We blasted out of Grolo's into the sunlight, laughing.

I really liked this guy. But even though I was grateful for his story back there, I couldn't let it go without saying something.

“That story you told about me,” I said. “You know that wasn't really how it happened.”

“Says who?” Spader shot back. “That's how I saw it. There's always two ways of looking at things, Pendragon. In my few short years I learned that seeing what's positive about a situation is a lot more fun and gets you a lot further than looking for what might be wrong with it. That's my philosophy, for what it's worth.”

Spader may not have been a wise old soul, but what he said made a whole lot of sense. I didn't think I had ever met anyone who was as full of energy and fun as this guy was. Without trying all that hard, he made you feel good. I could tell Spader had even gotten to Uncle Press. He said that Cloral was his favorite territory. I'm sure there were a lot of reasons for that, but I'm guessing Spader was a big one. It was fun to be around him. Over the next few weeks I learned a lot more about Vo Spader, and all of it was good.

He was the kind of guy who knew the right people to go to in order to get things done. He got Uncle Press and me set up in a small house near his. It was on the side of Grallion where the temporary workers lived, and since we had become temporary workers, we were right at home. The place was small, but comfortable enough. There were bunk beds (I got the top) and a small kitchen and some simple furniture. The best part about it though, was that the back window looked right out on the ocean. How great was that?

He got us jobs working on the farm. I was afraid this was going to be torture, but it wasn't. Not all of it, anyway. At home on Second Earth the big farms employ pickers who show up during harvest time, pick whatever needs to be picked, and move on to another. That seemed like pretty hard work, and not all that rewarding.

But that's not how it worked on Grallion. Rather than simply going out to pick whatever is ripe, the farm workers on Grallion are assigned to a quadrant. That's an area roughly the size of an acre. The workers are called “vators” and they have the responsibility of taking complete care of their quadrant, from feeding the plants to pruning, and yes, to picking the fruit. But the vators' responsibility doesn't end with the picking. They follow their crops all the way through the washing, sorting, and packing process right up until their crops are shipped out. It's very cool and gives you a real sense of accomplishment. I guess it's the difference between working on an auto assembly line where your whole job is to put the wheels on cars as they pass by you, versus staying with the same car from the very beginning and proudly watching it roll off the line.

Now, you may be thinking that I have no business running a farm, and you'd be right. Before coming to Grallion I didn't know the difference between weeds and worms. I didn't think Uncle Press did either. But it didn't matter because we weren't the only vators assigned to our quadrant. There were six other workers with us and each was pretty experienced. They showed us how to check plants for signs of disease and how to treat them with natural compounds brought up from the ocean floor. All the fertilizer was natural too. It seemed like even though Cloral was covered with water, much of what they used on the surface was brought up from below and processed for use on the habitats.

The fruit grew quickly on Grallion, so there was a harvest of some sort every few days. You would think this was the hardest part, and maybe it was, but it wasn't all that bad. It wasn't like we had to go out into the fields with baskets and fill them up with heavy fruit and lug them back to a central area or anything. It was way more civilized than that. Beneath every narrow walking path was an underground conveyor belt. All we had to do was pick the fruit and drop it on the ground, then lift the doors and drop the fruit down below. The conveyor belt would take it all to a central area where another of the vators from our quadrant would be waiting to wash, sort, and pack them up. It was all so simple.

Uncle Press and I went below several times to receive the harvested fruit from our quadrant and ensure that it was all cleaned and packed properly. We then used a forklift to bring the boxes of fruit all the way forward to the loading docks.

This is where we saw Spader at work. It was a busy place. There were all sorts of transport boats coming and going, bringing shipments of fresh fruits and vegetables back to their habitats. The habitats themselves were never allowed closer than a half mile to Grallion. That would have been dangerous. Instead they would send in small boats that would safely enter the docking area. Spader's job was that of traffic cop. He'd travel just in front of the incoming boats on his skimmer, calling back instructions to get them safely docked. He'd then jump on the dock, tie up the boat and signal the dock workers to begin the loading process. Once a cargo boat was loaded, he'd reverse the process and guide the boats safely out of the docking area and send them on their way back to their habitats.

But that's not all Spader did. He was also on the pilot's crew. The pilot was like the captain of a ship. He was in charge
of the vessel and its safety. Spader was still kind of a junior crew member, so most of his duties were of the lookout variety. At any given time there were ten lookouts stationed around the habitat to warn of any impending problems. It was a boring job, but an important one. It was probably pretty boring being a lookout on the
Titanic
, too. For a while, anyway. That will give you an idea of how important that job was.

I can guess what you're thinking. I made working on Grallion sound as if it were actually fun. Well, fun isn't exactly the word. It was work and some of it was hard, but I didn't mind it. I felt like I was an important part in keeping the wheels turning.

No, working the farm wasn't exactly fun, but there were plenty of other things to do that were
definitely
fun.

Spader took me on adventures. You know how much I like to dive, and on Grallion, hanging out
below
the water was a pretty normal thing. I already described how easy it was to swim underwater using the air globes. These gizmos made swimming underwater almost as natural as walking on the deck of Grallion. Actually, it was better. This is the closest to flying that I think a human will ever come. Spader and I would have races underneath Grallion. I really got the knack of using the water sleds. I found that by subtly shifting my body position, I could turn faster and move quicker. It was all about becoming aqua-dynamic. It didn't take long before I was almost as fast as Spader.

Spader took me fishing, too. I'm not much of a hunter, so he did most of the spearing. I acted more like a scout who found the larger fish and alerted Spader. I guess that makes me kind of like a hunting dog. Oh, well, that was my choice. But I have to tell you, I didn't mind eating the fish afterward. (Spader was a pretty decent cook, too.)

At first I was nervous about quigs, but Spader assured me that the sharks never came near Grallion. I knew that was because quigs only patrolled near gates and flumes, but I wasn't about to tell Spader that—yet.

Spader also showed me something that was really bizarre. Near where Grallion was anchored was another farm. An underwater farm! The people of Grallion didn't just farm on the habitat, they had crops growing on the ocean floor, too! This submerged farm had its own vators who tended the place wearing air globes. They grew everything from fruit, to long leafy vines that were cut at the base and brought up whole. Spader explained to me that these underwater farms were even more important to Cloral than farms like Grallion. He said there were farms all over the planet on the ocean's floor that had fed the Clorans for centuries. Growing food on habitats was a relatively new practice. The most important farms were underwater.

There was another underwater sport that Spader introduced me to, and once I got the guts to try it, I was hooked. Spader called it spinney-do and this is how it worked: A spinney was a kind of fish that traveled in small schools of maybe four or five and they looked like really skinny dolphins. I'm serious. Imagine a regular old dolphin, then imagine it being only about six inches in diameter and you'd have a spinney. At the backs of their heads they had these bizarro ridges. I had no idea what the spinneys needed them for, but they were crucial to playing spinney-do.

Spader motioned for me to be quiet and to watch. He then left me and swam cautiously up behind the spinneys, who were busily feeding on some kelp. They had no clue that he was there. They may have looked like skinny dolphins, but they were nowhere near as smart. Spader was able to sneak up
right behind them. With one quick move, he jumped on the back of one and grabbed the ridge behind its head! Well, the spinney didn't like that at all and it started to bloat! It was like one of those puffer fishes that get all fat when you touch them. Only the spinney was so big, when it puffed up it got
huge
! It was strong, too! It had suddenly transformed from this sleepy, dopey fish into a water-going bucking bronco! Spader held on to the back ridge with both hands and wrapped his legs around its body as the fish started thrashing and bucking.

“Eeeyahhhaaa!” shouted Spader. You'd think he knew about Westerns and bronco busting, but I guess shouting like that comes naturally when your adrenaline spikes and you're holding on to an animal for all you're worth. Spader then got cocky and let one hand go, just to show off. The spinney twisted and spun and did its best to launch Spader, but Spader wasn't letting go. Finally, the big fish shot upward. Spader wasn't ready for that move because he did a somersault right off the fish's back. The real beauty of spinney-do was that even when you got thrown, you were still underwater so it wasn't like you were going to hit the ground and break a rib or anything.

“Next one's yours, mate!” exclaimed Spader, still flush with excitement.

I wasn't so sure I wanted to try, but it looked like fun. Two spinneys were poking around the kelp and Spader motioned for me to give it a go. To be honest, I was scared. But I wasn't going to let Spader see me chicken out, so I did my best.

My best was bad. I actually got as far as grabbing the spinney's back ridge and wrapping my legs around its body. But I hadn't expected it to be so strong. The thing bloated, bolted, and was gone. I just floated there, my hand still out, not sure of what
happened. Spader swam up to me and patted me on the back.

“Gotta be faster than that, mate,” he said, laughing. “You're on their turf down here.”

Good advice. I'd remember it next time.

While Spader and I were having these adventures under the sea, Uncle Press was spending his off time learning more about Grallion and about Cloral. After all, we were here on a mission and the more we learned about this territory, the better prepared we'd be when Saint Dane made his move. I felt kind of guilty about having so much fun while Uncle Press was playing Sherlock. But he assured me that it was just as important for me to get to know Spader—he was the Traveler from Cloral, even though he didn't know it yet. At some point we were going to have to work together, so Uncle Press figured it would be a good idea for the two of us to bond.

That was okay by me. Spader and I were having a blast. The thought of battling Saint Dane was the furthest thing from my mind, most of the time. So after having spent a bunch of weeks on Grallion with Spader, I decided that my first impression of him still stood. He was a guy with a big personality and an even bigger sense of fun. He was a truly good guy who listened as much as he spoke. He also cared. He was quick to help out a friend, or even a stranger. He wasn't a slacker, either. He may have liked to have a good time, but he worked hard and he loved his job. This was a good guy to know. I'll remember those first few weeks on Grallion for the rest of my life. It was a great time.

But it was soon going to end.

One evening Spader made me dinner at his house. Uncle Press chose to hang at Grolo's instead. Spader had speared a couple of particularly tasty Kooloo fish that day and grilled them over hot coals in his backyard. Sounds like home, no?
The fish was golden and delicious. After dinner I cleaned up the dishes and Spader went to work cleaning up the rest of his house. There were clothes and pieces of equipment scattered everywhere. To be honest, it looked more like a garage than an apartment. Spader wasn't big on being neat, but tonight was different. He went around picking things up and putting things away and basically making the place look like someone actually lived there.

“What's the occasion?” I asked. “Got a date?”

I then noticed that Spader had more energy than usual. Believe me, for Spader that's really saying something. He was pretty much bouncing off the walls as he worked. It was like somebody took his power dial and notched it up a few amps.