The Lost City of Faar by D.J. MacHale Page B

difficult work. They’re always looking for help. And we’ll stay vigilant. The more you know about a territory, the better chance you’ll have of helping them. That’s what I did on Denduron.”
    â€œAnd when do we tell Spader that he’s a Traveler?” I asked.
    â€œWhen we need to,” came the quick reply.
    Uncle Press picked up the pace and I had to keep up with him. He suddenly seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere.
    â€œWhere are we going now?”
    â€œYou heard Spader!” he answered, suddenly sounding all enthusiastic. “Sniggers are on him at Grolo’s. You don’t pass up an offer like that.”
    Sniggers at Grolo’s. I guessed that would be a good thing.
    We walked to the far side of the habitat where the temporary housing quarters were. Close-up they looked like smallapartments. Nothing fancy, but nice enough. Men and women were hanging out, some were reading, others played with their kids. Two guys were playing catch with a curved tube that looked like a boomerang. I watched as they threw it far off to the side, only to have it circle back and land right in the catcher’s hands. It was the Cloran version of playing Frisbee.
    All these people wore the same lightweight, colorful clothing that Uncle Press and I now had on. We fit right in. Many smiled and waved a friendly greeting as we passed by. Uncle Press made sure to return every wave and I did the same. These people didn’t know who we were, but it didn’t seem to matter. They looked like a friendly bunch and that was okay with me.
    After walking for what seemed like a mile, we came upon another row of low buildings that ran parallel to the homes along the edge. I didn’t have to ask what they were. It was a minimall Grallion-style. There was a clothing store and a place to get haircuts. A small grocery store was next to a small library and that was next to a shop that carried a little bit of everything from tools to toys to cookware. On Second Earth we had a name for this kind of store. Target.
    I wondered if there was a video arcade hidden somewhere, but then figured that was probably something unique to Second Earth. Oh, well. We got to the far end of the shops and finally arrived at our destination. A carved sign over the door welcomed all who came this way. It said simply: GROLO’S .
    â€œCenter of the Grallion universe,” said Uncle Press. “And the finest sniggers ever pulled on any habitat this side of center.”
    â€œIf you say so,” I said, humoring him.
    â€œActually I have no idea,” he said softly. “I haven’t had sniggers anywhere else, but that’s what they tell me.”
    He winked and entered the pub. I was right after him, excited about finally discovering the wonders of the much-talked-about sniggers.
    As we walked inside, I saw that Grolo’s was pretty much your standard tavern. I guess it doesn’t matter what territory you’re on, people like to meet and drink and swap stories and laugh too loud, because that’s exactly what was going on here. There was odd music playing, though I’m sure to the good people of Cloral it wasn’t odd at all. If I were to liken the music to something at home, I’d say it was kind of a New Age, techno, Japanese, string thing. How’s that for a description? I know, it makes no sense, but if you heard it, you’d agree. I have to admit, I didn’t hate it. It had kind of a dance beat and added a strong helping of feel-good to the place.
    The pub was jammed. It was a mix of men and women of all ages, though I think I was the youngest there. I suddenly wondered if they would card me. That would have been embarrassing. Not only was I underage (at least by Second Earth standards), I didn’t have any ID on me at all. If anyone asked, it would have gotten tricky. But they didn’t, I’m glad to report.
    Everyone seemed to be having a good time while