“But—”
“Yeah, I know,” Courtney interrupted. “I don’t get it either. Nevva delivered. It’s hard to blame Mark for doing what he did.”
“Even if it meant giving Saint Dane an army to conquer Halla?”
“I don’t think she mentioned that part,” Courtney answered sarcastically. “Mark didn’t know Andy Mitchell is Saint Dane. I told him but he didn’t believe me.”
Dodger scratched his head and whistled in wonder. “So Mark is still a good guy.”
“Yes, but we’re going to have a hard time convincing him to destroy Forge.”
Dodger frowned. “Yeah, I’ll say.”
“I can do it,” Courtney said with certainty. “Mark is my friend. My best friend. If we can get him alone, away from the others, I’ll convince him.”
She went for the door. Dodger followed right behind. He took one last look to make sure everything seemed in order, then closed the heavy door and used Hantin’s key to lock it. “Snug as a bug,” he declared.
The two walked quickly forward down a long passageway. Courtney did her best to tie her hair up, trying to make it look like it was actually an intentional hairdo.
“Where’s his cabin?” Courtney asked.
“Not cabin, suite. Those people from England spent a pretty penny to bring him over. They must know how valuable his gizmo is.”
“Okay, where’s his suite?” Courtney asked, getting impatient.
“Main Deck forward. But he’s not there.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because there was a dinner reservation for five, the Dimond party, in the cabin-class dining room,” Dodger said proudly.
“You’re amazing.”
“Yes, yes I am.”
The two moved quickly through the ship, up from the depths to the Promenade Deck and the same elegant restaurant that Courtney had sprinted through earlier. They forced themselves to calm down and walk slowly, pretending to belong. They got a few second glances, but Courtney was sure it was as much because her hair was a mess as anything. The two strolled casually, arm in arm, through the wide-open doors of the dining room.
Music from the big band filled the elegant room, which was now busy with diners. Inside the double doors was a sitting area with a huge fireplace and comfy chairs for passengers to sit in while waiting for their tables. To the right was a velvet rope leading up to a podium where a stiff-looking host with a slim mustache greeted passengers and showed them to their seats. Courtney and Dodger made a point to avoid that guy. They strolled past him into the sitting area. From there they had a view into the large dining room. Peering through a potted palm plant, Courtney and Dodger scanned for their quarry.
“There,” Courtney said, pointing.
Halfway across the room, toward the stage, was a table for five with Mark, Andy, Nevva, and the Dimonds. Nevva and Andy were laughing and having a good old time. Mark and the Dimonds seemed more reserved. Mark twiddled his spoon, not interested in the food in front of him.
“May I help you two?” came a stern voice from behind.
Courtney and Dodger turned slowly to face the sour-looking host who loomed over them.
“No, thank you,” Dodger said. “Just looking for some friends.”
“Do you have reservations?” the host asked as if he already knew they didn’t.
“No, we won’t be dining here tonight,” Courtney answered.
The host gave them a skeptical look. Dodger went on the offensive. He stood up straight and snapped, “Is there some problem we can help you with?”
The host backed off.
“Forgive me,” he said apologetically with a deep bow. “If there is anything I might do for you, please do not hesitate.”
“We won’t,” Dodger said coldly.
The host slinked off, chastised.
“That was great,” Courtney giggled.
“Hey, we’re paying customers. He can’t treat us like we don’t belong.”
“Except we didn’t pay and we don’t belong.”
“Details.”
“So now what do we do?”
“No problem, I got this covered.”
Courtney gave him a doubtful look.
“What?” Dodger said, offended. “Have I ever let you down?”
“I barely know you.”
“But what you know, you like. Admit it,” he cajoled.
“Dodger! This isn’t a game.”
“Sure it is, and I know how to play,” he said confidently. “Keep an eye on them. When you get the chance, pull Mark outta there.”
“What? How?”
Dodger smiled. “Trust me. Bring him to the stern. I’ll meet you there.”
“Where are you going?” Courtney asked.
Dodger put a finger to his lips. “Shhh, trade secrets. Just be ready.”
He took Courtney’s hand and gave it an elegant kiss. He then winked and backed away, headed toward the host. Courtney watched as he whispered a moment in the guy’s ear and cagily slipped him something that could have been money for a tip. He cuffed the host on the arm as if they were old friends, and left the restaurant. What was going on? The host left his post and walked casually through the dining room, headed for the band. There was a dance floor between the dining tables and the stage, where several people moved to slow music. The host approached the bandleader and whispered something to him. The bandleader nodded and the host left.
What had Dodger done?
It was time for Courtney to start doing her part. She had to get close to Mark’s table without being seen. She slipped through the potted palms, nearly falling over a table where an elderly couple sat.
“Oops, sorry,” she said as she caught a bottle of wine that nearly fell to the floor.
“You!” the elderly woman exclaimed in anger. It was the same woman she and Dodger ran into, literally, when they first boarded the ship. The woman looked around for someone she could call to deal with Courtney.
“Sorry, ma’am, my fault,” Courtney said as she carefully placed the bottle of wine back on the table. “This wine is on me. Charge it to my room. Twelve-twelve. Galvao.”
“Why, uh, thank you,” the elderly man exclaimed.
The woman just looked sour. She gave Courtney an annoyed look and went back to eating her soup. Courtney got away from her and moved closer to Mark’s table, always trying to stay shielded by other diners. She got as close as one of the wide, wooden columns that was only a few yards from Mark. She stood with her back to it, waiting for…what?
The answer came quickly. A young steward hurried through the dining room holding a silver tray with a note on top. He went right to Mark’s table, where Courtney heard him say, “This came in on the wireless for Mister Mitchell. From London. Apparently there is some urgency.”
“Thanks,” Courtney heard Andy say. Her skin crawled, knowing it was Saint Dane.
Andy read the note and scowled. “Shoot,” he exclaimed angrily.
“What’s the trouble?” Nevva asked.
“It’s from KEM,” Andy shot back. “I gotta wire them back. Now. C’mon, Nevva.”
Courtney heard him push his chair back.
“Excuse us, please,” Nevva said politely.
“Is there a problem?” Mr. Dimond asked.
“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” Andy growled.
Andy and Nevva left the table and walked by the column where Courtney was hiding. They passed right by her on either side, inches away. Courtney held her breath. If they turned around, they’d see her. Courtney wanted to kick herself for getting so close. She watched as the two hurried away through the crowd without looking back. Courtney started breathing again. Now what? Was this her chance? Should she confront all three Dimonds? She liked Mr. and Mrs. Dimond. Maybe they’d listen to her. Or maybe they’d call the authorities, and she’d land back in the brig. She figured she had to take the chance. She was about to round the pillar when the band stopped playing and the bandleader stepped up to the
microphone.
“We have a special request,” he announced. “A spotlight dance for a happy couple who we understand are celebrating a very special occasion. Let’s bring up Mr. and Mrs. Dimond. Where are you folks?”
The audience applauded and looked around, searching for the mystery couple. Courtney smiled. She knew that Mr. Dimond would be mortified. He wasn’t a very good dancer. She also knew that Mrs. Dimond would drag him onto the floor anyway. She loved to dance. Courtney also knew that Dodger was a very crafty guy.
The room went dark. A spotlight kicked on and scanned the diners until settling on the Dimonds. The crowd continued to applaud as Mrs. Dimond dragged Mr. Dimond up to the dance floor. All eyes were on the Dimonds. Courtney slowly peered around the pillar to see Mark sitting alone, his chin in his hand, drumming his spoon absently on the table.
“Ten minutes,” she said as she walked toward him. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
Mark jumped as if there were an electric charge in his seat.
“C-Courtney? How d-did you—”
“You’re stuttering. That means my Mark is still in there. Please come with me.”
“I c-can’t,” Mark said, looking sheepish.
“Yes, you can, Mark,” Courtney implored. “You have to.”
“Please, Courtney,” Mark begged. “You can’t ask me to do anything that might hurt them.”
They both looked up at his parents, who danced alone in the spotlight. Courtney thought they looked radiant and happy.
“Hurting them is the last thing I want to do. But you have to know what’s going on. There’s a lot at stake here. You of all people should know that. Or did you forget everything that’s happened over the past three years?”
Mark’s glance darted nervously from his parents to Courtney.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Courtney said. “Bobby is about to go to war, and you’re the only one who can stop it.”
Mark’s eyes focused. Courtney knew that look. She’d seen it many times as they read Bobby’s journals together and puzzled over the realities of time and space. She’d seen it as they were about to step into the flume, when they saw Black Water for the first time, and when the flume was created before their eyes in the basement of the Sherwood house. She knew she hadn’t lost him.
“You gotta get back in the game, Mark.”
Mark glanced at his parents. A sad smile crossed his face. He took a breath, tossed his spoon on the table, and stood up to face her.
“Hobey-ho,” he said.
FIRST EARTH
They moved quickly through the ship, avoiding crowds, taking routes that kept them away from curious eyes. Courtney knew they didn’t have much time. She figured that when everyone returned to the table to discover Mark was gone, they’d probably give him a few minutes, assuming he went to the bathroom or something. That would be it. Saint Dane and Nevva would know something was wrong. Soon they’d have the whole ship looking for Mark. They’d discover Courtney had escaped. It was all going to fall apart very quickly. Courtney figured she had a small window to save Halla, and Mark.
They broke outside on A Deck and ran to the stern of the ship. The deck was empty. Nobody would bother them. At least not for a while. They hit the rail and stopped. Courtney looked down to the frothing ocean that was being churned up in the wake of the massive ship. It was a long way down. She turned to Mark, and for that one moment, she saw the little boy she had known for so long.
“I miss you, Courtney,” Mark said.
The two hugged. Courtney squeezed her friend tight, allowing herself to think for that one moment that everything was going to be okay.
“You’re freezing,” Mark said, and took off his tuxedo jacket. He wrapped it around Courtney’s shoulders.
“Thanks.”
“A lot’s happened,” Mark said sadly.
“You have no idea,” Courtney replied. “I’ve got to make sure you do. Mark, I understand what you told me. I understand why you did what you did.”
“You say that like it’s already done,” Mark said. “We haven’t gotten to England yet.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Courtney said. “That’s why the flume sent me back to before you brought Forge to that KEM company.”
“You know about it?” Mark asked, surprised.
Courtney wanted to laugh. Did she know about it? She knew more than she ever wanted to know.
“There is so much to tell you,” she said quickly. “But we don’t have time. They’re probably hunting for us right now. I’ve wrestled over a million different ways of how to get you to understand what really happened. Or what’s about to happen. What I finally realized is that none of it matters, except for one single fact. It’s the most important thing I can get you to believe, because everything else follows from it.”
“What is it?” Mark asked.
“What I told you before is the truth. Andy Mitchell is Saint Dane. From the day we met him in kindergarten. This story didn’t begin when Bobby left home. Saint Dane has been setting us up our whole lives. Setting you up. He got you to fear him. Then he seduced you by suddenly revealing he was a genius. Then he got you to trust him when he helped you rescue me after the accident in the mountains. It was all planned, Mark. You know what he’s done on other territories. You know how he works his way into people’s confidence to get them to make mistakes. That’s what he’s been doing on Second Earth. He’s been working us. You have to believe me, Mark.”
Mark didn’t take his eyes off Courtney. She tried to read his mind. She hoped he was moving in fast forward through everything that got them to this point, looking at it from a new perspective. Mark was brilliant. He may feel used, he may feel betrayed, he may even feel like an idiot, but she felt sure he would understand and accept what happened. There was no other explanation.
“You’re wrong,” Mark finally said.
“But—”
“There’s only one fact that matters to me. If events played out the way they were supposed to, my parents would be dead.”
“But they are!” Courtney shouted. “I mean, I don’t know what I mean, but I saw Second Earth after the past was changed. After you changed it. Your parents still went down with that plane.”
“Then why are they here, right now, dancing in a spotlight?”
Courtney faltered. She didn’t have an answer.
“Courtney!” Dodger called as he jogged up to them.
Mark stiffened.
“It’s okay,” she said. “This is Dodger. He’s Gunny’s acolyte.”
Dodger stuck out his hand and shook Mark’s.
“Pleased to meet you, chum,” Dodger said amiably. “You’re a tough one to get hold of. But now everything’s fine. Right?”
Mark and Courtney both looked down to the deck.
Dodger frowned. “You told him about Saint Dane, right?”
“He still doesn’t believe me.”
“What proof do you have, Courtney?” Mark asked.
“You can read Bobby’s journals,” Courtney said weakly.
“That’s not enough,” Mark barked. “I have my parents. Here. Alive. You’re asking me to destroy Forge, right? That’s like saying you want me to kill my parents.”
“I know, it’s hard,” Courtney said.
“Hard?” Mark shouted. “That doesn’t come close to describing it.”
“Mark, something isn’t right!” Courtney countered. “By introducing Forge to First Earth, you’re going to set off a chain of events that leads to the creation of a technology Saint Dane is using to topple Halla. That’s a fact. You don’t know. You haven’t read the journals.”
“Maybe the journals are wrong,” Mark countered. “You’re saying how Saint Dane was able to fool us our entire lives, and fool me into starting Armageddon, maybe he was smart enough to monkey with those journals. Did you think of that?”
“No,” Courtney said, shaking her head furiously. “You know that can’t be right.”
“B
ut your version isn’t true!” Mark barked. “My parents are proof. All you have are words on a page. I have living proof.”
“But I was there!” Courtney cried, tears of frustration welling up. “I saw how Second Earth was changed.”
“I’m sorry, Courtney,” Mark said. “I think Saint Dane must have a hand in this somewhere, but it looks like you are the one he’s been working. Like he did at that Stansfield Academy. I’m going to deliver Forge to that company in England. They are going to do with it whatever they will and begin a series of events that will save the lives of my parents. I don’t know what Saint Dane did to you, but your version of events is not the way it was meant to be. We’ll figure this all out once we get to London.”
Mark touched Courtney on the shoulder warmly and began to walk away.
“Stay right there, Mark,” Dodger said.
Mark looked up in surprise to see Dodger standing in his way, holding the pistol he had taken from Sixth Officer Hantin.
“Dodger? What are you doing?” Courtney exclaimed, stunned.
“This is our last chance, Courtney,” Dodger said. “Once he leaves, we’re both going to get pinched by the crew and spend the rest of this trip in the brig. It’s now or never.”
“Put that away!” Courtney ordered.
Dodger didn’t waver. Mark backed toward the rail nervously.
“He doesn’t believe you!” Dodger complained. “You know what’s going to happen if he leaves. Is that what you want?”
“No!” Courtney exclaimed. She turned to Mark with tears. “Please. Mark. I’m telling you the truth. I can’t explain why your parents are alive, but if you don’t destroy Forge, you could be destroying Halla.”
“I believe you believe that, Courtney,” Mark said. “I don’t.”
“Please don’t make me do this,” Dodger begged. His voice was nearly as shaky as Courtney’s. His gun hand wasn’t too steady either.
“I’m going to deliver Forge,” Mark said, his voice growing more confident. “And I am going to save my parents.”
He took a bold step toward Dodger. Dodger wavered. Courtney grabbed the gun out of Dodger’s hand and held it on Mark.
“Stop!” Courtney commanded, crying. Her hand was shaking, but the gun stayed on Mark.
The Pilgrims of Rayne Page 41