The Perils of Archipelago

by B A Simmons

  “Anna? What are you doing here?” he cried.

  “I’ve come to join your crew.”

  Edwin sat, staring at her; his brain grasping at words that couldn’t find their way to his tongue.

  “You . . . what . . . where?”

  “I know,” she said, coming aboard. “I’m the last person you expected to find here, and I’ve got a lot to explain.”

  “Damitall, yes! Why aren’t you at Engle Isle? What happened to your baby? Did it . . . did it die?”

  “He’s just fine. I named him Mark. I figured that would make everyone happy. He’s with Lisette and John.”

  “But why isn’t he with you? You’re his mother, Anna!”

  “Edwin, I can’t explain it again. Please don’t ask me to. It’s not easy for me to deal with it, so let’s just not talk about that. Where are we off to next?”

  “Nowhere!” Edwin practically shouted the word. “I’m not taking you anywhere. You’re going to get back on whatever ship brought you here and take care of your responsibilities.”

  “I can’t go back there. I don’t belong. Besides, Pete already left again. If you won’t take me on as crew, then I’ll find some other way to fight the Falcons.”

  “Fight them? Anna, don’t you realize that I am in business with them? I sell them my elixir and supply the consortium with funds and information to help us win this war. We don’t go out like Pete, looking for a fight.”

  “Then I guess this is farewell.”

  Anna made to leave but then stopped. Reaching into her satchel, she drew out Edwin’s sphere and tossed it to him. “Oh, I got this for you. Turns out it’s just an embryo preserved in a stasis sphere. I don’t really know what that means, so don’t ask.”

  Holding the sphere, Edwin watched as Anna walked back up the dock and disappeared into the crowd around the city gate. He fought the impulse to go after her, knowing full well there was nothing he could do for her. He fought the tears that welled up in his eyes, believing that his sister had gone mad.

  A few hours later, just as the sun began its descent behind the Isle de James mountains, Eugen and Duncan returned with an inebriated Ches.

  “James is looking after Ian,” they told Edwin.

  “Are you good to stay here with Ches for a bit? I’ve got to take care of some business,” Edwin said.

  He made his way to the warehouse where Kenneth had stored the new batches of elixir. There, he left two boxes. One for Kenneth, containing his payment. The other, addressed to Rob and Malcolm, contained a thousand gold florins and his letter.

  Edwin hired porters to transport the elixir, all twenty-five hundred doses of it, to the Anna Louisa. Finding Ian and James there, they spent the evening loading the new cargo. The next morning, with an eye scanning the wharf for Anna, and a weight set on his heart, Edwin set sail again.

  ***

  Rob’s heart felt heavy as he looked at the pale face of his mentor and friend. Doctor Morris continued to worsen, even with the Chillfever tea Piers provided him. Rob wanted to tell him about their discoveries inside the Duarve House, but he hadn’t yet awakened. They poured the tea down his throat in sipping amounts, which he swallowed, but there was no way for them to make him eat. This worried Rob the most.

  Piers helped Rob take the artifacts from the room, knowing that once the satellite passed beyond them, the light would go out, and they would be waiting at least three more days before another satellite passed over. Rob made each of them swear not to touch the alien objects, citing the dangers inherent in tampering with unknown devices.

  Yet, there was no stopping them from gawking. Jacob and Piers seemed especially interested in identifying their functions and purposes. They presented ideas and argued over them based on appearance and similarity to other objects.

  While amusing, Rob also found their discussions to be a distraction from cataloging the items.

  Tom kept everyone happy with fresh fish, baby octopus, strawberries, and Ka beans. On the second morning, Tom returned with half a basket of Ka beans and a story to tell them.

  “As I walked to the Ka tree grove, I heard music. It was like a whistle, but softer and more melodic than any I know of. The tune was strange. At first, I thought Jacob was pulling one of his pranks, but then I realized it came from the grove. I moved in as quietly as possible and noticed something up in a Ka tree. A bird, I thought, but it wasn’t that. I saw an arm, like ours, and then legs. It looked like a child was up in that tree picking Ka beans with one hand while she played a whistle with the other.”

  “She?” Jacob interrupted.

  “She. Or at least I think it was a she. She had long hair, bright blonde and pulled back away from her face. That’s how I was able to see her ears. They were pointed at the top.”

  “A Ferlie,” Rob blurted.

  “I don’t know what she was, but as I went to get a better look, she heard me and stopped playing the music. She must not have been able to see me well, because suddenly she was hanging upside down from the branch, her face as close to mine as yours is now. She gasped, or maybe that was me. Then, faster than a hornbuck can jump, she dropped out of the tree, spilling her harvest of Ka beans and ran off toward the peak.”

  “You chased after her right?” Jacob said.

  “No, I was in shock from the whole encounter. If it was a Ferlie, then I guess I have to start believing in them now,” Tom said.

  “I think you fell asleep and dreamed the whole thing,” Jacob said.

  They all laughed, even Tom, but it was clear that he believed what he said. He went back to the grove to finish his harvest.

  As Rob returned to the hut to check on Doctor Morris, he found the old man awake. His head still burned but not as hot as before. Rob gave him water, which he gratefully gulped down along with a few bites of dried fish.

  “Ferlie love Ka beans,” Morris whispered to Rob. “If this island is known to them, you must be careful. While most of them are peaceful and friendly, others look at humans as we might look upon a Quillian—nothing but savages.”

  “I can’t say I blame them. We fight among ourselves more than against the other dangers of the world.”

  “Did I hear you out there discussing Duarve artifacts?” Morris asked.

  “Yes. I’ve been wanting to tell you; I opened the door. It was full of devices. We’ve counted thirty-one, including three more tablets. As soon as you’re well enough, we’ll get you up to Aruth, and you can have Poulustus translate them.”

  Morris closed his eyes again. Wincing in pain, he pulled himself up using Rob for support.

  “No, lie back down. You need to rest,” Rob said.

  “I want to see it.”

  “See what?”

  “The Duarve. Aweth’s offspring.”

  “It’s not there. It wasn’t there when we entered. Somehow, it got out.”

  “Was there another door? Another way out?”

  “Not that I could see. The only hypothesis that makes sense is that it went out the front door and locked it behind itself.”

  “Why leave its parent and sibling in the bunker? No, if it could get out that way, it would have burned their bodies as Poulustus did for Yskiu. The objects you found were still inside that room. It must have escaped some other way.”

  Morris stood but began coughing so much that he doubled over, and Rob set him back down on the cot. He beckoned for Rob to come closer to him. He strained his voice to be sure the younger man could hear him.

  “You must take these objects to Isle de Prime. It is important . . . don’t let anyone else have them . . . not even the consortium.”

  “Why?” Rob said.

  “Promise . . . me.”

  The coughing began again. This time, blood came with it.

  “I promise,” Rob said, his voice full of fear. “Piers! Help!”

  Piers appeared in the doorway. He grabbed one of the rags they’d used to help cool Morris’s head and wiped the blood from his mouth. More came as the coughin
g fit grew more violent. Rob held Morris upright as Pierce struggled to contain the blood. The rag soaked up all it could and still more came.

  “No, not like this!” Rob shouted.

  Morris became still, his arms limp at his sides, and Rob realized he was holding the entire weight of his torso. Slowly and gently, he laid him back down on the cot.

  Rob sat back against the wall of the hut opposite Geoffrey Morris’s lifeless body. Piers held the bloody rag, unsure what to do with it. They waited in silence until Jacob appeared at the hut.

  “What’s going on? What’s—”

  He saw Morris on the cot, and his questions were answered. Rob lifted himself up from the dirt floor only to have his knees buckle under him. Jacob caught him and dragged him outside.

  He watched Rob weep into the grass and wiped tears from his own eyes. Piers drew water from the stream and washed his hands and the cloth he still held. No one spoke again until Tom returned.

  Tom came back holding a silver whistle in his hands, but before he could show it to any of them, he discerned the situation and went to comfort his younger cousin. The whistle was put away and forgotten about in light of the event.

  Jacob and Piers took turns digging a grave on the opposite side of the stream. Rob fashioned a grave marker from the stool Morris had used inside the Duarve House. They buried him in traditional Engle Isle fashion, each of them taking turns to recount a memory they had of the deceased.

  Jacob surprised them with his one of own.

  “While you three were gone, Morris asked me about myself. At first, I didn’t want to answer him, but he was relentless. Eventually, just to get him to leave me alone, I told him how I never knew my father and that my uncle raised me by giving me a beating every day. I don’t know what happened. By the time you came back, he knew my whole life story. He never once judged me for it.”

  Once again, Rob found speaking to be difficult.

  “He believed in me when I thought no one else did. He supported me, even when I turned away from him.”

  He choked up and stepped away to weep again. Tom and Piers affixed the marker at the head of the grave, and they all went back to the hut.

  Early the next morning, all four of them rose early and began the work of lugging the Duarve artifacts down to the Entdecker. Rob packed them tight under the quarterdeck so as to be out of sight. Once he finished, he looked up to see Tom and Jacob checking stays and rigging. Piers was not there.

  “Where did Piers go? I think there’s still one more device we haven’t packed,” Rob said.

  Jacob shrugged, “I figured he went up to get the rest. I don’t know how many there are.”

  Rob trekked up the hill again, avoiding the sight of the grave as he looked around the hut. Piers was not there, nor was he in the hut. Lamp in hand, Rob went back into the Duarve House. He wanted to be sure none of Morris’s notes were left behind, but as he came to the door, a thought occurred to him.

  How did Aweth’s offspring get out?

  Rob entered the room one last time to look around. Cleared of the artifacts, the room seemed larger than the one across the corridor. Rob examined the walls for any sign of a seam, the pipes for any sign of a body jammed up inside them. Surely, there was an answer to the riddle.

  Rob turned again to the door and was startled by the figure standing there. Visible only as a silhouette, Rob could still tell by the height and frame that it was Piers.

  “Where have you been?” Rob said.

  “I’m sorry, Rob. I didn’t want to do this,” Piers said.

  “What?”

  The door shut. Rob ran to it and pushed, but the lock had reengaged.

  “Piers! What are you doing?! Open up!”

  Rob knew shouting was futile, the sound only reverberated inside the room. Piers had trapped Rob inside. Why? To suffocate? Rob’s mind raced through scenarios, trying to fit one to the circumstances.

  No, he wouldn’t suffocate. Sometime tomorrow another satellite would pass over and Rob knew how to open the door. Did Piers know this? Of course, he was intelligent. Everything Rob knew about the man pointed to his sagacity. He didn’t want to kill Rob, he only wanted to keep him locked up for a time. Why?

  Rob replayed the moment the door shut in his mind. What was it Piers had said? He was sorry. He didn’t want to do this. What is “this?” The answer hit Rob like a punch to the stomach. Piers’s interest in the artifacts, wanting to know about how they worked. He was going to steal the artifacts.

  Jacob and Tom would stop him. Two against one, and Jacob was one of the best fighters Rob had ever met. Piers might be smart, but so is Tom.

  The last device . . . Rob remembered what it was he hadn’t packed away yet. It was the Duarve energy weapon. Piers had that weapon!

  “Damitall! NO!”

  Rob pounded on the door in desperation. This couldn’t be happening! He screamed, even though he knew that effort was in vain.

  Stopping to breathe, he let his mind work out the problem. He couldn’t wait for the satellite, Piers would be long gone by then. So, how to get out? He worked his mind, focusing on everything he’d learned about the Duarve, throwing out idea after idea that he knew wouldn’t work.

  Then . . . he struck on something with potential.

  The well room. The well room at Alimia Castle, where the Duarve constructed a secret opening in an otherwise seamless wall. Rob placed the lamp on the table and began moving his hands along the walls. He was meticulous and methodic, even though he wanted to rush through it. In every corner and every turn, he placed his hands together and pushed.

  Sweat rolled down his back and face. Soon, his sleeves were soaked. Rob cursed again as he neared the wall opposite the door, the wall that contained the pipes. As he passed by one of these, he stopped.

  Cool air! He felt cool air on his skin. Rob placed his head as close to the wall, near the pipe opening, as he could get. The air felt good against his face. He reached inside the pipe with his hands and felt the smooth surface of the pipe on the outside, but inside, where the wall should have been, was emptiness. The pipe opening looked no bigger than Rob’s own head, but he hadn’t realized that it became large just inside.

  Pouncing to the lamp on the table, he lifted it inside the pipe. The flame flickered in the air. He angled his body to allow his head inside the pipe. It barely fit with his arm holding the lamp, and all he could see was more of the smooth stone, but the passage looked wide enough for him.

  For the first time in his life, Rob was grateful not to be as built out and muscular as Mark. He shed his tunic and reinserted his head into the pipe opening. Then, with care not to burn himself, he brought the lamp up, past his head and into the passage. Now, he had but to work his other shoulder in, and he could chimney climb up. The tight space compressed his chest, making breathing difficult, yet he forced himself to do so, drawing in slow, deliberate breaths and exhaling twice as long. He squeezed himself as tight as possible, wiggling his shoulder up as he exhaled. It seemed to be working. For a few moments when he couldn’t move at all, panic seized him and he closed his eyes to keep it under control.

  With one final push, Rob’s shoulder popped through the opening. He placed one hand on the wall, pushing against it while lifting his legs up. The lamp tilted and spilled oil down his chest and back. The light flickered, and he decided it was better to blow it out than catch himself on fire.

  Plunged into darkness, Rob’s free hand was able to apply the opposing pressure needed to lift himself up. Once his legs wiggled themselves into the passage, it was an easy job to push himself up the shaft.

  Rob climbed as fast as humanly possible, but he seemed to be getting nowhere. Unable to see anything, he had no way to discern how far he’d gone. It wasn’t until his head struck soil that he realized he gone as far as he could in the shaft.

  Soil! Dirt! Roots and air! Rob pushed his hand against the soft canopy that shrouded the opening. Like a young reaper emerging from its sinewy web, Rob crawled
out of the ground near the peak of the island. The air smelled of smoke, which confused Rob for a moment, but he couldn’t waste time thinking about it. Covered in the dark soil with bits of root tangled in his hair, he turned his head up and let out a cathartic yell, then set off down the slope.

  ***

  Tom waited with Jacob at the Entdecker for Rob and Piers to return. The ship was ready to sail, and Tom wanted to get away from Hellhound Isle before dusk. Tired of waiting, Tom descended from the quarterdeck.

  “I’ll go find them,” he said to Jacob.

  “No, I’ll go. I’ve got to stretch my legs one last time before—”

  Tom looked to Jacob, wondering why he’d stopped talking. The mercenary was staring up at the peak of the island where a large column of black smoke rose into the air.

  “What’s that?” Jacob said.

  Just then, Piers came out onto the beach. In his hands, he carried the final Duarve artifact. Yet, it was the way he carried it that worried Tom. The strange device had a long thin end, which Piers seemed to be pointing at them.

  “Piers, did you start a fire?” Jacob asked.

  Piers replied, “Jacob, if you know what’s best for you, you’ll take that falchion and toss it into the lagoon.”

  Jacob’s eyes narrowed as he now perceived Piers’s threat. He looked to Tom, but the ship captain remained motionless, his eyes fixed on Piers.

  Piers trained the Duarve device on Jacob. “Tom, I see you up there. Don’t try anything or I’ll use this weapon. I know what it does.”

  “Piers, what are you doing?” Jacob demanded.

  “I’m sorry. I like you all, even Rob. I don’t want to kill you, but I will. Now throw away the sword.”

  “Where’s Rob?” Tom asked.

  “I don’t have time to explain. If you both cooperate, I’ll make sure you’re treated well.”

  A strained pause followed. Tom looked to the deck to see what weapons were nearby. A harpoon, but far enough away he’d have to jump to get it. If that Duarve weapon did what he imagined, Piers could kill them both faster than Tom could throw the harpoon.