The trace signal from my weapon, thought Liore. I have you where I want you, Barry Porter. Very soon I shall have everyone else where I want them as well.
Two days after the Andromeda had left Adelaide, the weather was clear and calm. This was unusual for that time of year and latitude. The ship was turning out of the Southern Ocean. Soon it would be heading north on the Indian Ocean, and there would be nothing between the Andromeda and Colombo but open water. Daniel was out of bed early, and he had a leisurely breakfast in the first-class saloon. Barry was nowhere to be seen, which was hardly surprising to Daniel, as well as quite a relief. His friend had learned a little about how polite people behaved at table from visits to the Lang house, but there was no solid foundation to his knowledge. Barry could do a few things correctly, but he had no idea why he was doing them. Sooner or later he would come up against a situation that required understanding, and then there would be another disaster.
Daniel was lying back in a chair on the promenade when a very seedy- looking Barry finally appeared. By now it was time for morning tea, and deck stewards were out and about with trays. Daniel cringed a little lower in his chair as Barry sat down not far away, snapped his fingers for a steward, and called for a tray. When the tray came he tried a cup of tea. He did not like it. He added sugar. That did not seem to improve the taste for Barry. He poured in some milk, but even this did not measure up to his standards. By now Barry had attracted an audience of children, who were laughing at his version of morning tea.
Barry did like an audience, and he began to parody what the first-class adults were doing. The children laughed even more. By now Daniel was hiding behind Treasure Island, but no longer reading it. Barry did a napkin trick and a teaspoon trick, then he performed spin-the-saucer. The children clapped and laughed. In the distance Daniel could see adults glancing Barry’s way and looking uneasy. Only a matter of time, thought Daniel. Who will strike first? Barry picked up a little milk jug decorated with blue and gold cornflowers and drained it. Too late, Barry is loading for his first shot.
The audience of first-class passenger children had never seen anyone spray milk through their tear ducts, and Barry was rewarded with squeals of delight and applause. Because thin streams of milk were not visible at distance unless one knew what to look for, the adults did not notice. He did it again and again. The children joined hands and danced around him.
Should I flee before Barry runs out of milk? wondered Daniel.
Barry ran out of milk. Daniel watched as he stood up, made his way through his adoring audience, and walked over to a group of older but very fashionably dressed women. I can’t watch, but I can’t help myself, thought Daniel. Barry seemed to be politely asking the women for their little jug of milk. One of the women smiled nervously, but apparently said yes. Barry picked up the jug, drained it, and blew the liquid out of his tear ducts, splattering milk over Lady Matindale, Lady Scott-Bugden and Baroness Featherington. The three women screamed, leapt to their feet and fled. The large group of children behind Barry shrieked their approval. Barry performed an elaborate but clumsy bow.
Please, please don’t notice me, thought Daniel as angry parents began to retrieve their children and drag them away. The angel of doom hovereth above thee, Barry, surely thou canst feel the beating of his wings.
The angel of doom took the form of the master-at-arms, who soon appeared in the distance, flanked by Lady Matindale, Lady Scott-Bugden, Baroness Featherington, and four deck stewards. Fingers were pointed at Barry. Barry suddenly comprehended that he had probably gone too far with something. He turned to flee, but ran straight into the deputy master-at-arms. Daniel watched in relieved silence as Barry was borne away shouting, ‘I didn’t do nothin’!’ Realising that Barry was in serious trouble, what remained of his audience of children scattered.
Daniel waited until mid-afternoon before visiting Barry. Because first-class passengers were expected to need incarceration only rarely, one of the cabins had to be set up to double as a brig. The lock on the door was modified so that it could not be opened or picked from the inside, the luxuries were removed, and Barry was bundled in. A steward was assigned to sit outside.
‘You actually know the little wretch?’ asked the steward when Daniel came to the door.
‘I only met him when he came aboard,’ replied Daniel.
‘I can hardly believe he has a first-class ticket.’
‘New money,’ said Daniel knowingly. ‘Very new money.’
‘There should be a test of manners before one can travel first class.’
‘Quite so, sir. Now then, I have a note from the master-at-arms permitting me to visit Master Chalmer.’
‘Really? What for?’
‘A scheme to get him out of the brig, but isolate him from the other first-class passengers, sir.’
‘Ah, I see. Well, go ahead.’
Daniel was admitted to Barry’s new cabin. Barry was not coping well with being isolated. He was an exceedingly social person, and needed things to do and people to interact with, sell to, and steal from. Here he had nothing to do but stare out of the porthole at the sea.
‘Danny boy, am I glad to see you!’ he exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind Daniel. ‘That toffy steward cove locked me in ’ere just for not speakin’ proper to some hoity old bat.’
‘Don’t lie to me,’ said Daniel firmly. ‘You are in here for doing your milk trick all over the three most important ladies on the ship.’
‘No I didn’t!’
‘I was there.’
‘You were?’
‘Barry, that was the most disgusting thing I have seen since Nigel Tromper stuck a smoked oyster up his nose at the Middle Brighton Dancing Academy’s annual ball and asked my sister if she had a handkerchief.’
‘Cor, I gotta remember that one. Wot happened?’
‘She screamed. Then he pulled it out and ate it.’
‘Didn’t think old Nigley was that brave. Bet she weren’t too pleased.’
‘She wasn’t. She slapped his face.’
‘That’s a logical.’
‘With a plate of cucumber sandwiches.’
‘Oh jeez! I wondered how he got his nose broke.’
‘Getting back to yourself, the master-at-arms tells me that you are to be confined here for the rest of the voyage.’
‘Bleedin’ hell, I’ll go mad.’
‘The alternative is to toss you off the ship at Colombo.’
‘Oh. So I gotta stay in this place for a week until London?’
‘Five weeks and two days to go, Barry.’
‘But – but can’t I get out and about? There’s nothin’ to do. This is awful. Can’t I get out and, er, learn respeccyble deck games or somethin’?’
‘It may not be as bad as that. Firstly, you are meant to spend a few days in here to learn the errors of your ways.’
‘Wot?’
‘The captain wants you to suffer, so do some suffering. After that, he wants you to reform yourself through hard work.’
‘Work? But I’m –’
‘A first-class passenger, I know, but you are also a first-class passenger who has been behaving like a pig in a pastry shop. It’s either five weeks of solitary confinement or five weeks of hard labour.’
‘Five weeks?’
‘Actually five weeks and two days. The choice is yours.’
‘Choice? I don’t call that much of a choice.’
Four hundred miles astern, the Millennium was slowly reducing the lead of the Andromeda. Liore and Madeline were now sharing a second-class cabin, and were performing well in their personas as patrol stewards. After their rounds of the decks they reported to the bosun about damage or shoddy work, then they worked as saloon stewards. The combination of Madeline’s experience as a waitress and Liore’s background as a cadet a century in the future soon had most senior officers very impressed. The standard of the service in the first-class saloon did not please everyone, however.
‘This sort of th
ing is what is dragging the empire down,’ said the master-at-arms, as the officers finished their main meal on the third night since leaving Adelaide. ‘Cadets should be martial youths, not little White Star dandies who could just as easily be serving aboard the Oceanic.’
‘Be easy on them, Tom,’ said the captain. ‘They are supposed to be convincing as saloon stewards.’
Liore and Madeline were clearing the plates away as they spoke, and both remained respectfully silent.
‘All on a warship should be fighting men,’ replied the master-at-arms, taking an orange from the fruit tray. ‘I mean were this orange an enemy assassin, how would they defend us from him?’
The master-at-arms tossed the orange at the purser, who put out his hand and caught it a few inches from his face.
‘Oh, fine catch, sir!’ exclaimed the second officer, and the others applauded.
The purser tossed the orange back to the master-at-arms, who caught it easily. He held it up again.
‘I wager that there’s not a man at this table who could not defend himself against this orange,’ he continued, ‘but what about our new cadets?’
He had raised his hand to throw the orange at
Madeline when Liore’s free hand flickered. A knife embedded itself in the orange, which was still in the hand of the master-at-arms. He froze. Every man at the table froze.
‘With respect, sir, the only way that an enemy would know that there is a Lionheart cadet in the room would be the knife in his back,’ said Liore.
‘This – this is my knife,’ said the master-at-arms, whose face had lost all colour.
‘I took it from you as I cleared your plate away because I anticipated what you were leading up to. We cadets are very good at anticipating the moves of opponents.’
The master-at-arms lowered the orange and stared at the blade that was protruding from between his fingers.
‘You could have injured my hand,’ he said angrily.
‘Not unless you were the enemy, sir.’
‘Bravo!’ cried the captain, suddenly breaking the mood and signalling that his approval was with the two young stewards. ‘If these fine lads had been in Melbourne or Albury, the result would have been very different, what?’
Across the saloon Liore’s performance was being observed by those at another table. These were the ship’s only passengers, and among their number were Lady Conrad and Sir Bernard.
‘I did not know there was a Lionheart cadet scheme,’ said Bernard.
‘There isn’t,’ replied Lady Conrad. ‘Not that I know about, anyway. Find out everything about them, Bernard. I want a full report two days before we reach Colombo.’
‘And after that?’
‘I want them over the side.’
Madeline and Liore were back in their cabin before they spoke of the incident in the saloon.
‘Twelve more days of these fools,’ said Liore quietly. ‘I have seen better displays of discipline and security from the Imperial War Academy’s guard dogs.’
‘Liore, what you did with the knife,’ said Madeline.
‘Yes?’
‘I could never do that.’
‘With a few months of training, I am sure you could.’
‘But I can’t do it now, and I’m meant to be as good as you.’
‘Then you had better stay close to me and let me do any fighting,’ said Liore as she stretched out on her bed and closed her eyes. ‘This ship is important. Very important.’
‘In what way?’ asked Madeline.
‘It is very dangerous, and the Lionhearts have been granted use of it. Just being aboard puts you in danger.’
‘Liore, I deal in facts like all detectives should,’ said Madeline, ‘but you give me no facts that I can work with. The ship is important? Perhaps. We are in danger? Perhaps. What does all this tell me? Nothing. I am your ally, yet you treat me like the enemy.’
‘Very well, Madeline, then here are some details. Beneath this ship’s bridge is a pair of six-inch cannons. At the rear of the ship is a saloon that is supposedly closed for renovations, but it conceals two more such cannons. There are also torpedo tubes on the foredeck and poop deck, hidden beneath hatch covers. This ship is a light cruiser disguised as a luxury passenger liner.’
‘I don’t understand. Why disguise a warship?’
‘Because it can sidle up to a battleship, then open fire at point-blank range with four guns and four torpedo tubes.’
‘Would that sink the battleship?’
‘Oh yes, but there is more. The engine hall is particularly well guarded, but I suspect that the engines in there can drive the Millennium along at as much as thirty knots. I have made some sightings on the sun and stars with a sextant that I improvised, and checked them against the figures from my radiocomm. At our current speed we shall arrive at Colombo half a day before the Andromeda, and we are burning a lot of coal to maintain that speed. What does that tell you?’
‘These Lionhearts must want to kill Barry.’
‘Kill Barry? They could telegraph ahead to Colombo, and have some petty thug slit his throat. No, they must know about the thing Barry stole from me. There are some people aboard that everyone defers to, even the captain. My feeling is that they are the Lionheart leaders, and that they know what my stolen property can do. They want it.’
‘So your property must be a weapon?’
‘Good guess, but do not ask about it. You would not believe my answer.’
‘Very well, but what are we to do? We are two girls against an entire warship. What chance have we?’
‘We are two girls in disguise among five hundred crewmen, pursuing the Andromeda on a very fast warship.’ Liore held up the radiocomm. On its screen two little red lights were pulsing. ‘We also know precisely where the weapon is located. The advantage is with us, and we must keep it that way.’
‘Advantage? I see no advantage.’
‘At Colombo I can get to my weapon first. Once I do that I shall use it to sink this ship and prevent a war.’
Chapter 6
MUSICIAN
With Barry safely confined to the brig Daniel felt a lot more at ease, yet his problems were not yet over. At first he tried to read on the promenade deck, but he quickly learned that people on long voyages were a lot more affable and outgoing than in their day-to-day lives. This was because everyone travelling first class assumed each other to be genteel company, so they had no reservations about needing to be introduced before opening a conversation. Worse, the stewards were always on the lookout for people to drag into deck games. Daniel was a prime target because as far as they were concerned, someone reading a book was doing nothing.
Tuesday was the sixth day since leaving Melbourne, and the weather was already warmer. A steward told Daniel that they were only a few hundred miles from the tropics, and to celebrate there would be a ball. This was yet another problem for Daniel: there were a dozen girls of about his age travelling first-class, but only four boys. One of those boys was in the brig, however, leaving three girls for every boy. Two of those boys were only twelve years old, meaning that Daniel was the boy of choice for any girl in search of male company. All that Daniel wanted to do was pine for his lost love, yet he was pursued by girls wherever he walked, and surrounded by girls when he stopped.
The ball was the second of the many diversions planned for the voyage. Unlike the music hall concert, this was for first-class passengers only, and was entirely formal. People were announced and introduced as they arrived, so that they were not entirely unknown as they began to mingle.
‘Daniel William Lang, travelling to Britain to do a preparatory year at Harlingford, prior to studying law at Oxford,’ declared the steward as Daniel entered.
Every mother of every eligible daughter instantly gave Daniel their undivided attention. Going to Harlingford meant that Daniel came from a family that was either rich or at least prosperous. Oxford and law meant that Daniel had very bright career prospects. Daniel was also tall and hand
some, and his suit disguised the fact that he weighed only a hundred and forty pounds. His name and school were written into twelve little notebooks trimmed with gold.
The dancing started with sedate waltzes, but as people became a little more relaxed in each other’s company the band moved them on to livelier dances like the ‘Champagne gallop’ and the ‘Railway steam gallop’. Daniel had learned all the latest dances at the Middle Brighton Dancing Academy, and his dancing created a very good impression with nine mothers and twelve eligible daughters.
Daniel was naturally shy, but he did have a little experience with girls in his past. There were eleven two-hour lessons at the Dancing Academy in the company of two dozen girls who were no better at polite social banter than himself, and fifteen years of being dominated and ground down by his sister Emily. His three months under the command of the deadly Liore did not really count, because Daniel classed her as more of a goddess than a girl. Thus his month with Muriel had given him his best experience of polite flirtation, and he now did this very well. Everyone was thoroughly charmed by Daniel’s manners and modesty, even though he was not interested in trying to make a good impression with anyone.
In the breaks between dances Daniel sought out the musicians, who were employed as assistant stewards and actually worked in the saloon most of the time. While associating with servants in preference to supposedly respectable people was not quite as outrageous as squirting milk through one’s tear ducts, it did at least signal to the mothers present that Daniel might have a dangerously Bohemian streak. The pianist was an American named Lewis, and he had travelled widely even before getting a job as a ship’s musician.
‘I first heard ragtime at the Chicago World Fair back in 1897,’ he said as Daniel stood beside him at the piano. ‘It started among us blacks, but it’s quite a craze everywhere now.’
‘So it was named after the syncopated, ragged rhythm?’ asked Daniel.
‘Yeah, you got it. I’ll play you the “Maple leaf rag”. It’s by a guy named Scott Joplin, and when it comes to ragtime he’s the best.’
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