History Keepers: Nightship to China

by Dibben, Damian

  But then it came: a solitary thump from below. Then a second; and a third, making him feel sick to his stomach – rap, rap, rap . . . He knew it was a giant metal tentacle trying to breach the hull. There was a splintering sound, and Nathan was sure that it had pierced the timber. From below, he heard water rushing in and sailors shouting. Then the deep rapping started once more, from another quarter of the ship.

  On the main deck, the Chinese courtiers were rushing around in panic. Zhu, the boy prince, stood rooted to the spot, unable to formulate the words of command he needed. The troupe of ladies decanted from the empress’s quarters below into the clouds of smoke left by the guns, their dresses bright in the midst of the chaos.

  Suddenly there was a thundering crack, and the ship jolted. The yellow throne shunted through the screens and down the steps. Screams went up as it smashed onto the main deck. Topaz and Yoyo cleared a path through the courtiers, navigators, surgeons and mapmakers, many still with instruments and charts in their hands. Over the side of the ship they saw, below the surface, the end of a metal tentacle tightening its grip on the timbers.

  Topaz found a length of rope, tied one end to the rail and cast the rest over the side so that it unrolled towards the tentacle. She repeated the process with a second rope, then slung a further coil over her shoulder and tossed one to Yoyo. Meanwhile Yoyo had seized a pair of hammers – chunky iron mallets – from the deck and passed one over to Topaz. They both abseiled down the ropes towards the tentacle, while Zhu, amazed by their bravery, looked on, his courtiers crowding round on either side.

  Once Yoyo was close enough, she let go of the rope, catching hold of the metal arm. The joint contracted as it took a tighter grip on the ship, nearly crushing her fingers, but she slid down, taking a deep breath as she disappeared underwater, feeling her way along the limb.

  Topaz followed close behind, plunging into the water and grabbing hold as Fang’s machine clung to the hull of the flagship like a monstrous barnacle.

  The girls worked their way along, until they were within reach of the cockpit. Fang – a fearsome shape at the helm – saw them and pulled a lever that made the tentacle suddenly shoot out, nearly throwing them off. Topaz looped her rope around it to give them something to hold onto, but Fang shunted the control back and forth, making it flick to and fro like a whip. Topaz lost her grip and dropped the hammer, but just managed to cling onto the end of the rope and pulled herself to the surface, where she took great gulps of air.

  Meanwhile, underwater, Yoyo managed to reach the top of the glass cockpit; here she knotted the end of her rope to the base of a tentacle and wrapped it around her foot. She raised the hammer and pounded on the glass over and over again, until faint cracks appeared on the surface. Ignoring her, Fang sent another arm out to spear the ship’s hull.

  Yoyo continued to strike the glass with all her might, finally rupturing it. Even as water seeped into the cockpit through the crack, Fang continued to work the controls. Yoyo hammered away at the glass, and now a chunk gave way and water flooded in, the momentum threatening to carry the control pod away from the flagship – though three tentacles were still clinging on. Desperate to breathe, Yoyo spiralled up the rope, kicking towards the surface.

  As she did so, Topaz pulled herself back down her own rope to the squid’s cockpit. Just inside the opening that Yoyo had made she spotted a latch that held the glass roof in place. She reached in, but Fang drew her dagger and slashed at her forearm. Ignoring the pain, Topaz unhooked the latch, and the roof of the cockpit immediately flipped off and disappeared into the vortex behind. The cockpit was filling with water, and as the current took the metal squid, all but one of its tentacles were forced to let go of the hull.

  Now Yoyo reappeared; she took Topaz’s hand and pulled her away, pointing towards the surface. Topaz knew she needed air before she passed out, and had no choice but to head upwards. She shot through the roof of light and gasped for breath.

  Down below, Madame Fang still held on doggedly, trying to control the squid and thrusting her dagger towards Yoyo as she clambered into the cockpit. Yoyo struck back with her hammer, then yanked on a lever: the last tentacle relinquished its hold on the ship, and the machine shot backwards. Fang and Yoyo were thrown together, dropping their weapons. They grabbed each other by the neck, expelling any air still left in their lungs.

  Weak with lack of oxygen, Yoyo finally managed to smash Fang’s head on the edge of the cockpit. As the old woman reeled, dazed, Yoyo took the controls, turned the squid round and opened the throttle. She aimed it at a steep cliff rearing up out of the sea bed and accelerated hard. Fang came to just in time to see the sheer wall shooting towards her, while Yoyo closed her eyes, anticipating the moment of impact.

  On the surface, Topaz was still taking deep lungfuls of air. The fleet had turned round, but the little patrol boat was heading towards her. She ducked back down, trying to see what had happened. Was Yoyo swimming for safety? Then, in the distance, she saw the pulse of light and heard the explosion.

  ‘Noooo!’ she spluttered as she surfaced again.

  The patrol ship drew close, the crew reaching down to help her aboard. The bearded captain, previously so mistrustful, gazed at her in awe.

  ‘We have to find her . . . find Yoyo!’ Topaz wailed, treading water as she looked around frantically.

  But there was nothing but empty sea.

  25 COMMANDER GOETHE

  OBLIVIOUS TO WHAT was happening out at sea, Galliana Goethe and Jake hurried down the stairwell; she was leading the way carrying a lantern in one hand and her arrow gun in the other, while Jake struggled behind under the weight of the bazooka. When they reached a rickety landing halfway down, Galliana checked their position on her map.

  ‘This way,’ she whispered to Jake. ‘It will take us into the back of the ballroom.’

  The landing was rotten, and they had to tread carefully. Dust trickled down into the stairwell below. Suddenly a great chunk gave way, Jake lost his footing and the heavy bazooka almost hauled him over the edge; but Galliana pulled him back from the void.

  ‘All right?’ she asked. He nodded, tightening the strap.

  Heading along the corridor, they soon came to a rusty metal door in the wall. They checked their weapons before Galliana turned the handle and gently pushed it open. It gave a shrill squeak.

  She was about to go through when Jake spoke. ‘Commander?’ She turned round and looked at him. ‘I just wanted to wish you luck.’

  Galliana smiled and ruffled his hair. ‘And good luck to you too. Your family have always been the bravest of us.’

  Jake coloured at the compliment. ‘I also wanted to say . . .’ he mumbled. ‘What happened to your son must have – I can’t even begin to imagine how you . . .’ He trailed off, not knowing how to put it into words.

  Galliana looked down and gave a sigh. ‘It was a dark time,’ she said quietly. ‘The darkest of all.’

  Jake knew that this was a strange conversation to be having at such a point, but if he was to enter this place again, he felt a sudden, urgent need to unravel at least some of her story. ‘When you disappeared down those steps on your own just now, I realized I – I didn’t know enough about you . . . even where you were born or – or how you came to be commander.’

  Galliana seemed to understand. Her eyes were serious, windows into a world of extraordinary secrets. ‘Would you believe I had great difficulties growing up?’ she said softly. ‘I was much more fragile and less clever than my four older brothers. And I was afraid of my own shadow, as my father put it. We lived on the Baltic, in the little German port of Flensburg . . . long winters and bright summers – a happy town. All my family were History Keepers, going back many generations. And we were boat builders too. Half of the fleet are still Goethe ships.’

  ‘You were afraid?’ Jake asked, finding it hard to believe: he thought of her as fearless.

  ‘No one was expecting much of me, I can tell you.’ Galliana’s face darkened. ‘You don�
�t need to know the details, but my folks – parents, cousins, brothers – were all killed; burned in their beds after a family wedding. Under cover of darkness Sigvard Zeldt struck with his squad of executioners.’

  Jake knew the name: though long-dead, Sigvard Zeldt was the father of Xander and Agata, both of whom he had come up against on previous missions.

  ‘Only I escaped,’ Galliana continued, ‘hiding underwater with a length of clay pipe. I was the only Goethe left – I still am – so I couldn’t be frightened of shadows any longer. I had to grasp life.’

  The poignancy was not lost on Jake. Galliana’s misfortunes were beyond anything he could possibly imagine – losing her family, not once but twice – but she had found the courage to continue, uncomplaining, always doing what was right and fair.

  ‘There were many happy times too,’ she said, gently pinching his cheek. ‘I had a wonderful marriage and so much laughter; much of it with your family, whom I hold close to my heart.’ She paused, her expression serious. ‘Now, Jake, I am going to ask you one more time: will you wait for me here?’

  He shook his head. ‘Let’s go,’ he said, motioning for her to proceed.

  Galliana passed through the opening, checking that the chamber was empty. It was light inside, so she put down the lantern and beckoned to Jake. The huge bazooka got stuck in the doorway, and clanged loudly against the metal as he pulled it through.

  ‘That thing is more trouble than it’s worth,’ Galliana said, taking it from him and setting it down next to the lantern.

  Jake looked around. He had passed by this chamber before: here, the stone figures were frozen in a dance, while others looked on from the sides.

  Watchful, they crept towards the open double doors at the far end. Jake glanced at the faces of the dancers, captured in the moment of action, eyes wide, mouths open with the thrill of the ball.

  Galliana peered through the doorway and headed into the main corridor. Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching and quickly retreated. They waited behind the door, listening. The footsteps were heavy, thumping – it clearly wasn’t Xi Xiang, but his mute executioner. The statues shook as he approached.

  Galliana swung out, punching the sharp point of her elbow into the giant’s chest, sending him reeling backwards. She raised her arrow gun, but he kicked out, knocking it from her hand. As she reached for it, he drew his machete from his belt and slashed at her. As she dodged once, twice, Jake tried to take aim with his own gun, but she was in his line of fire. Eyes burning with determination, she caught hold of the man’s wrist, but she was losing the struggle and his blade came down towards her head. Suddenly she hooked her leg around his knee and pushed hard. He toppled backwards, gravity taking over; his head hit the wall and his neck twisted until his spine cracked like a nut. His mouth gaped open, showing the knotted stump of his tongue. Galliana dragged the body – her strength was astonishing – to the corner of the room out of sight. Jake stood watching her, dumbstruck.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to him. ‘I have taken you by surprise.’ She retrieved her arrow gun and checked that the cartridge was still properly attached. ‘You’d think that after four decades in the secret service I would be used to taking lives . . . Not so. It is something you never get used to.’

  They set off along the passage, the commander facing forward, Jake guarding their rear. They twisted and turned, passing more stone attendants, until they approached the open door of the control room. Galliana held up her gun in both hands, but the place was deserted. The four arched windows looked out across the sea bed, now illuminated by a gleam of daylight from above. There was a movement in the huge tank, and Galliana swung her bow towards it – but it was only the octopus surfacing for a moment. Its eyes lazily inspected her, before it slipped back down, sending a stream of bubbles up to the surface. The room fell silent again. Jake had just noticed that the golden pistol was no longer on the control panel when the lights flickered; for a second the palace went dark, but then they blinked back on again.

  Galliana looked at Jake, and he wondered if they should have brought the lantern. He reached for the flint lighter that Nathan had given him in Renaissance Venice, and found the reassuring chunk of metal in his pocket.

  The commander referred to the plan: the main corridor, Jake saw, followed an octagonal path as it connected the principal chambers of the palace. She pointed to a room that was diametrically opposite the ballroom. ‘The night suite,’ she whispered.

  They followed the corridor until they arrived at another door, this one slightly ajar. Galliana pushed it open with her foot as they took cover on either side.

  For a full minute, neither of them moved. At last, Galliana swung round and saw a dark anteroom, where two rows of stone courtiers knelt facing each other. Their heads were slightly bowed, but their glass eyes looked back at the door, challenging anyone to enter. Beyond them, a round opening, a ‘moon door’, led into the main chamber. Galliana and Jake crept past the kneeling courtiers and went in.

  In the centre, surrounded by more kneeling servants, was a giant four-poster bed with a blue roof like that of the palace itself. Silk nets hung down the sides around a sleeping figure.

  Gun primed, Galliana motioned for Jake to stay back and soundlessly inched her way towards the bed. Jake checked the statues – after his previous experience he wasn’t taking any chances – and they stared back at him accusingly.

  Galliana drew back the net with the tip of her weapon and reached out towards the still shape under the covers. She yanked back the sheets, ready to fire, then let out a little gasp.

  Jake stepped forward and saw that the sleeping figure was also a statue, this one of jade, its mouth gaping open – whether in pain or joy, it was hard to tell.

  All at once they heard a giggle behind them – the unmistakable high-pitched laugh of Xi Xiang. They both swung round, aiming at the moon door. A shadowy figure flitted across the anteroom into the corridor. The door slammed shut and the lights flickered again.

  ‘So he’s playing games with us . . .’ Galliana said softly.

  They headed out towards the other side of the palace, but before long the lights blinked once more. This time they went out. It was pitch black; Jake had never known such total darkness. They heard a giggle, then footsteps scampering towards them.

  Jake heard a twang as Galliana let loose an arrow; it whistled through the air before hitting a wall and clattering to the ground. Again she fired, then a third time, and Jake followed her lead, though they had nothing to aim at.

  He reached into his pocket for his lighter. As he pulled it out, something touched his forearm, and he heard a soft snigger. He froze, terrified, as he felt warm breath on his face, and then the palest of shapes blinked out of the darkness – the white of a withered eye.

  ‘Such a pity you never found your brother,’ Xi Xiang whispered.

  Jake sparked his lighter, only to see Xiang pointing a pistol – his brother’s golden pistol – straight at his heart.

  ‘Jake!’ Galliana screamed, throwing him out of the way just as Xi pulled the trigger. There was a flash, and a mushroom of smoke, and she took off into the air, struck a stone pillar and thumped to the ground.

  Xi sniggered and scurried away, his feet tip-tapping along the passageway until there was silence again. Suddenly there was a distant clunk, and the lights came back on.

  Jake looked around. The empty corridor curved away from him on either side.

  Galliana lay on the floor, her body twisted, her breastplate punctured; blood seeped out into a thick puddle, clogging her mane of silver hair. Her face was pallid and her eyes filmy.

  Jake stood there, shaking his head in horror. And then in fury. He tried to undo the buckles of her armour, but she gently pushed his hand away.

  ‘Get out . . .’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘Please get out.’

  Jake shook his head. ‘Never.’ He took her spare cartridge of arrows, swapped it with the one on his own gun, then unhooked her belt of dagg
ers and slung them over his shoulder.

  ‘I’ll be back, do you hear? I’ll come straight back,’ he vowed.

  As he set off, he heard the sound of music – strings – coming from a room along the corridor. He found himself back at the ballroom and blinked in amazement as he saw that the dancing statues were slowly revolving on the spot in time to the music.

  Then there was another cloud of smoke as Xi fired at him from across the room. Jake ducked behind a group of statues, and the bullet struck one in the chest, shattering it into dozens of pieces. As the laughing Xi skipped from statue to statue, Jake’s arrows hissed across the room, but none found their mark.

  His cartridge was now empty, so he threw down his gun and started hurling Galliana’s daggers. Something small and heavy landed at his feet – a firecracker shaped like a dragon, red smoke hissing from its mouth. Jake took cover as it exploded and red smoke filled the room. Xi cackled as he launched more firecrackers – purple, yellow, green . . . The stench was dreadful, and Jake could feel the smoke burning his lungs.

  He caught a flash of movement as his foe dis appeared back into the corridor; then glanced round and saw the little metal door through which they had entered the room. He could escape now, leave this place for ever . . . But he gritted his teeth, and crunched across the floor in pursuit of Xi.

  His nemesis was scampering towards the control room. As Xi turned and fired again, Jake ducked, and the bullet smashed into the ceiling, which started to fall in chunks, knocking over the stone figures guarding the doorway. Jake bent down and picked up a piece of broken statue – a fat hand and forearm – and, yelling a curse, hurled it at Xi. It struck him hard on the forehead, and he tumbled down the stairs, his pistol flying across the room. Dazed for a second, Xi looked around and saw the gun glinting under the throne. He pulled himself to his feet, but Jake had already leaped down the steps and caught him a blow on the jaw with his foot.