Diego watched the jungle island receding.
“Well done,” the captain said as Lucy guided the John Curtis out. “If only such keen decision making had been on display earlier.”
“Yes, sir,” Lucy said, blushing.
“Paige,” the captain said, “gather Gaston and Ajax and tell them they are to help you with dinner. Take Petey with you. Lucy, after I’ve finished talking with this one, I’ll take over and you may join the others. Diego, outside with me.”
Diego waited until Paige had left, avoiding any chance of making eye contact with her, and then followed the captain out onto the deck.
“Your actions back on the beach,” the captain said. He stared out at the water without saying more.
“I—I’m sorry, sir,” Diego said. “I lost track of where we were. It was a mistake.”
The captain had pulled out his pocket watch. He glanced from it to Diego, almost like he was waiting for Diego to continue.
“Um, it’s been hard since my dad was taken,” Diego said.
“I’m sure it has been,” the captain said.
“And I don’t know. Flying on that beach was one of the first times I’ve felt happy in over a week. I guess I didn’t want it to stop.”
“Spoken like a thirteen-year-old boy,” the captain said. “But there are no boys on my ship. The next time you disobey my orders, I’ll have you flogged, or marooned.”
“I promise,” Diego said. “I’ll follow your orders, sir.”
The captain looked at his watch for another moment, his breaths deep like the giant steam bellows. “Go find the others. They’ll be on the aft deck.”
Diego followed the sounds of his friends’ voices. They were gathered along the aft railing. He paused by the wall, not joining them yet. Paige was there. When she spied Diego, she crossed her arms and scowled.
Ajax and Petey wore heavy leather harnesses and were hooked onto the rails with thick ropes. Paige held a gaffing hook, and Gaston stood by, armed with two enormous guns.
“Nice and slow,” Ajax said to Petey, cranking the reel on a long fishing rod. “And give it a little action.”
“Like this?” Petey said, bouncing his rod.
“Just like that,” Ajax said. “Make that bait do a little dance. Like it’s something special. So that big fish has to take a bite.”
“What’s with the guns?” Diego asked, walking over.
“The defiant explorer returns,” Gaston said. “You never can be too careful fishing in the Vastlantic. Sometimes the fish you drag up look tempting to one of the larger, more dangerous creatures, and you end up with an eight-ton carnivore in your face.”
“Hey!” Petey said. “I think I’ve got one!” His rod started to bend. He reeled in the line, straining his legs against the railing.
“Keep it steady,” Ajax said. “Don’t reel too fast.”
“It feels like . . . a big one.” Petey struggled to hang on to the reel as it tugged and bowed.
All at once the rod snapped back to straight. If it hadn’t been for the harness, Petey would have been thrown all the way to the wall. Below, the water splashed violently.
Gaston peered over the railing. “There’s a big shadow down there. I think a young mosasaur thanks you for the snack.”
Diego heard footsteps behind him.
“Lucy!” Gaston called. “Come see, we’ve got a mosasaur right off the stern.”
“I’m sure I can see him quite well from here,” Lucy said, stopping many feet back from the railing.
“Ah well, your loss,” Gaston said. “It’s gone anyway.” He turned to Paige. “Where were we, before everyone arrived and interrupted?”
“You were yapping on about planes or something,” Paige said.
“Oh right, yes. I often fly planes for the captain. I could take you for a ride sometime.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I hope you do. Also—”
“What kind of airplanes do you fly?” Lucy asked.
“All manner of aircraft, mademoiselle: seaplanes, cargo, and fighter planes for the Vanguard,” Gaston said. “I have six Aeternum kills to my name.”
“I’m a pilot, too,” Diego said. “Going to be taking my civilian pilot’s test soon. Probably once this rescue mission is over.”
“Well, aren’t you the fortunate son,” Gaston said. “I don’t have a mother in the air corps. She was only a maid in New Orleans.”
“But you said your father was important,” Lucy said.
“He was,” Gaston said. “He worked as a cartographer for the emperor Napoléon Bonaparte and mapped the Louisiana Purchase in 1800. He met my mother in New Orleans, and that’s where they made their home after the Time Collision.”
“Sounds like you had a fortunate upbringing as well,” Diego said.
“Does it, now?” The usual playfulness left Gaston’s voice. “Which part? You mean when my parents, my sister, and my little brother all died of yellow fever when I was seven? A pirate’s life is the only way I’m ever going to see the skies, Ribera.”
“Sorry,” Diego said.
Paige huffed, ignoring Diego altogether.
“Ooh, got another one!” Petey said, gritting his teeth. “Feels strong . . .”
“Here, Petey, let me help this time.” Ajax slid over and added his cyborg arm to the effort. Petey reeled as fast as he could.
“It’s a big one!” Gaston said, peering over the side. “Let me tell the captain to slow down.” He stepped to a voice pipe on the wall and called the bridge.
The ship slowed to an idle.
There was a thunderous splash from below. Diego watched as a fat, silver fish leaped out of the water, struggling against the line.
“Here . . . it . . . comes,” Ajax said. He and Petey pulled with all their strength, the rod nearly breaking. As the fish came alongside, Ajax hoisted it up effortlessly with his piston-driven arm. He released the great fish, and it slapped onto the deck, flopping wildly.
Ajax knelt and pressed his knee into the side of the fish. He pried the hook out of its mouth, leaving a thin line of blood on the deck.
“What do we have?” The captain joined them, looking curious, but when he saw the fish, he froze. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s a tuna, right, Captain?” Gaston said.
“It looks like a yellowfin,” Petey said, “but that’s impossible. They’re only in the Pan Pacific.”
“Ahi,” the captain whispered. He crouched and ran his fingers down the glistening scales. “Ajax, throw her back.”
“Wait, why?” Petey said, still out of breath. “We spent all our energy getting that thing up on deck!”
“I thought the whole point of fishing was to catch fish?” Paige said. “I could make a mean dinner with them fillets.”
The captain stood. “We have many new provisions from the Mapmakers. You can make something else.”
“But, Captain,” Petey said. “It looks perfect.”
“Before the Time Collision, humans took from the world without restraint or thought,” the captain said. “They used up every resource until the fate of the planet was doomed. I will not be part of making that same mistake again.”
“It’s only one fish, sir,” Petey said.
The captain turned to leave. “I’ll be in my quarters.”
Ajax threw the tuna overboard.
That night, the captain didn’t join them for dinner.
“I’ll take him a tray,” Diego said. He wanted to get away from the galley anyway, where Paige was making a point of talking to Lucy and Gaston and not to him.
“You can take him this,” Ajax said, emerging from the kitchen with a tray prepared.
“Thanks.” Diego got up and took the tray. As he turned to leave, Ajax’s hand fell on his shoulder.
“It’s not for me to say what happened back there on that island, or who is to blame, but it doesn’t make sense to hold it against Paige. She’s just looking out for Lucy.”
“I know you feel like she’s always picking a fight,” Ajax continued, “but you might try talking to her sometime.”
Diego nodded. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Good. Now, take that to the captain before it gets cold.”
Diego headed topside, moving slowly, as it was hard to balance the tray with his injured arm in a sling. He checked the bridge first. When the captain wasn’t there, Diego made his way across the dark deck, a cool evening breeze on his face. Stars glittered in the sky. Distantly, some giant creature called across the water in a deep, haunting hum.
Diego knocked on the captain’s door, but there was no answer. Maybe he was down in the engine room. He thought about leaving the plate outside the door but worried that seabirds or pteranodons might go after it. He tried the knob and found the door unlocked. As Diego stepped in, he considered that the captain would not approve of him entering.
Diego crossed the cabin as quietly as he could. The captain’s quarters were large, the walls paneled in dark wood, and lined with photos. The pictures were all similar: groups of men and women standing outside the bridge, arms around one another. The captain’s crews over the years, Diego guessed. So many different faces . . . only Ajax was the same. Diego wondered if the others had been lost to battles with the Aeternum over the years, and if it was possible to leave the captain’s service any other way.
The room was lit only by an amber cone of light from the desk lamp. Diego moved a half-empty bottle of vodka and placed the tray by the captain’s head. The captain snored lightly. Drunk, Diego guessed. He found the cap for the vodka bottle, replaced it, and put the bottle on a small table by the couch.
Diego turned to go, but something thumped to the floor. The captain coughed and shifted his head from one arm to the other. Diego spotted what had fallen: a small sculpture. He picked it up. It was a wood carving of a yellowfin tuna, like the one they’d pulled from the sea. This one was more comically drawn, with a big eye and a smile, like a toy. Diego found a name carved in the side: Natalia.
Diego spied a picture frame lying on the desk. A photo of a beautiful young woman in a maroon dress, standing next to a much younger Boleslavich. He was trim, wearing a dark naval officer’s uniform. There was no gray in his hair or mustache. The woman’s pregnant belly pressed out against her dress. There was a handwritten inscription at the bottom:
My Elana & Ahi
December 14, 2213
The captain was an Elder. Elana was his wife, and Ahi . . . the sculpture. His daughter, Natalia?
Diego noticed now that the nearest desk drawer was open. Maybe that would be a good place to put this carving until the captain sobered up. He slid the drawer open a little more. There were more photos inside, a stack of unframed snapshots. Diego wondered if he could risk taking a closer look—
The captain’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist like a steel trap.
“Ow!” Diego yelped. The grip was so tight that he dropped the carving, right into the mashed potatoes on the plate he’d brought up.
“Who gave you permission to come in here?” The captain peered at Diego with half-closed, bloodshot eyes.
“Nobody, we just—I thought you might be hungry, so I—”
“Leave at once!” he roared, lurching back in his chair.
“Yes, Captain.” Diego stumbled and hurried out of the room. As he closed the door, he heard crashing sounds from behind him.
Diego rushed down the deck. He never should have gone in there. Maybe Paige was right. Maybe he was reckless. The captain was going to maroon him for sure.
As he neared the galley door, a peal of laughter caught Diego’s attention. He stopped and peered through a porthole.
The rest of the crew had gathered around the old boiler fireplace, even Daphne. Petey stood at the center of the group, doing an impression of a vicious creature, maybe a dinosaur. Everyone was cracking up, Ajax laughing in singular, cannon-like bursts that shook the porthole glass.
Diego watched them, feeling more alone than ever. Go join them, he thought. But other than by Petey, and maybe Daphne . . . he knew he wouldn’t be welcome.
He slipped away from the porthole. He went back to their cabin, but he didn’t want to stay there either. So he grabbed the old computer tablet from the desk, along with a small set of tools, and shoved them into his backpack. He lit a lantern and headed back out into the dark.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Diego and Lucy
“Hey, Redford.” Diego studied the cool metal surface of the robot’s face. Sometimes, especially in dark shadows like now, Redford’s headlamps nearly looked like eyes and the steel bumpers like a mouth.
Diego had wired a simple camera system into the headlamps, which in turn attached to a television display in the operator’s chair, in the hope that one day his dad would be able to make electronic systems work again. If that ever happened, they could give Redford, and all the Ribera bots, basic artificial programming, but the problem had stumped every engineer the world over. For some reason, even the most innovative designs for electromagnetic shielding failed. Even Santiago, with the Maker’s Sight on his side, hadn’t been able to figure it out.
“Maybe someday, pal.”
A gust of wind whistled through Redford’s joints. Diego noticed fleets of clouds galloping across the sky. He’d planned to camp out on the deck, but instead he climbed up into Redford’s storage compartment. He held his lantern through the doorway and peered into the space. Maybe this would do fine for tonight.
Diego knew he couldn’t get the computer tablet to work on a permanent basis, but perhaps he could get it repaired enough. If he could find an Elder modulating fuse somewhere on board, that might get it operating for a minute or two before the next electromagnetic spike. Maybe tomorrow, if he was lucky, he could power up its solar cells, and then he’d get a quick turn on an old video game or something before the circuitry shorted out. Santiago had achieved flashes of success with such devices back in his workshop, but it never lasted long.
Diego relaxed and let his hands tell him what to do. He tried not to think—about the dull ache in his shoulder, the sling on his arm, or the nagging worries about his friends, his home, or his father—and just get lost in the trails of wires and circuit boards, spinning drives, and screws.
Diego’s eyes fluttered open to daylight filtering through the gap in the doorway. He’d fallen asleep at the table, his cheek resting on the tablet, which had etched red lines on his face.
He sat up, shivered, and realized that he was soaked. And nauseated. The barge pitched up and down violently. Rain hammered on the metal walls of the compartment, rivulets of water seeping down the insides.
Diego stowed the tablet and tools in his backpack, then started back toward the John Curtis. The sky and the sea were welded together in slate gray, the wind howling. Waves crashed over the front of the barge, sending sheets of water across the deck. The John Curtis pitched up over heavy swells, crashing down the other side in explosions of sea spray. He slipped on the deck, having to grip the piles of debris.
Diego was soaked to the bone in moments. He’d clambered halfway across the barge when he looked ahead and squinted in disbelief.
The rope bridge was gone.
The tethers connecting the ships seemed to be holding, but there was no way to cross the furious water between them.
Diego looked around for another solution. Just then a wave caught the barge and tossed it sideways. It slammed into the side of the John Curtis. Diego was thrown to the deck. Burning pain bloomed in his injured shoulder, and for a moment he nearly blacked out. The sling soaked up water, the strap catching for a moment on a rivet.
He rolled across the cold, wet metal, losing track of up and down. He reached wildly for anything to grab on to.
His hand grazed the frayed edge of a tarp flapping in the wind.
He reached for it as his legs flew free of the side of the barge. His fingers closed around the soaked fabric, and he dragged himself back onto the deck. He staggered to his feet, breathless.
A distant sound reached his ears over the waves and wind. Voices. Diego caught sight of two figures on the back deck of the John Curtis: Petey and Paige, huddling beneath ponchos, securing the cargo latches.
“Hey!” Diego called. “Guys, over here!”
But they turned and made their way back toward the door.
He inched as far across the deck as he dared, gripping the frayed tarp, fighting to stay upright as sheets of water ran over his feet. “HEY!”
Petey was stepping through the door. . . .
Paige turned. She tugged on Petey’s poncho, and the two ran over to the edge of the deck.
Petey put his hands around his mouth. “What are you doing over there?” he shouted.
“I can’t get back!” Diego replied, pointing to the empty space where the bridge had been.
“You have to jump!” Paige shouted over the roaring storm.
Diego watched as the barge and the John Curtis swayed closer and farther from each other. There were moments when it might be possible, when the barge rose up and the John Curtis ducked low, when he might be able to leap for the railing. His shoulder still throbbed. He’d have to grab the railing with one hand.
He waited until they crested a wave, and then he stepped away from the equipment, only to slip again, falling on his hip. He twisted to avoid hitting his shoulder, sliding farther. Had they not just crested a wave, he might have been swept overboard, but the barge tipped downward, and Diego was able to stumble back and grab the tarp again.
“Hold on!” Petey called. Diego saw him unclipping one of the fishermen’s harnesses. He tied a rope to it, and then he and Paige hurled it toward him. Diego caught the wet leather straps, one of the metal buckles slapping him in the eye.
The barge lurched close to the ship for a moment. “Take my bag!” Diego called, and threw his backpack as hard as he could. It spiraled through the rain, and Paige grabbed it.
“Now come on!” Petey called.
Diego slipped on the harness and readied himself. He watched the gap between the barge and the ship, waiting . . .
Diego and the Rangers of the Vastlantic Page 15