by Paul Aertker
A tall, lanky boy was collecting video-game controllers. He had tucked himself under a sheet of plywood, where he was hunched over, jamming on the joysticks that weren’t connected to any screen.
Next to him there was a thin kid who had raided a candy container and was organizing everything by color.
One boy collected phones; another rounded up rubber duckies. As far as Lucas could see, everyone had tons of food and drinks.
Some of the boys seemed to be working for another purpose.
A few were collecting hooks, pulleys, and thick cables. Probably getting ready to hoist the container away, Lucas figured. Another Curukian was caring for four of the boys who were lying on cots in what was presumably the infirmary.
Eye Patch and another kid had set up a giant television powered by a noisy generator. They looked like they were getting ready for a sleepover.
Someone turned on the TV, and the boys settled in to their areas.
Lucas knew there was no way for him to take on so many Curukians, even under the cover of darkness. These giant Curukians had already locked his friends in the bunk room and had thrown him overboard.
This was now officially a case of “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”
The generator powering the television was louder than the sound coming from the TV. But the boys were glued to it. For Lucas it would provide a perfect distraction all night.
Nearby a boy in a black baseball cap leaned against a container, collecting marbles. Lucas had found his victim. He scrambled back to where he and Jackknife had seen a pool of marbles earlier. He picked up a few and returned to his spot.
Squatting just behind the swinging container door, Lucas launched three marbles at the boy in the black cap. The little glass balls rolled across the deck and hit his leg. The boy swatted at them and grabbed two. The third marble rolled back toward Lucas.
The boy got up and chased after it like a cat chasing a string.
He rounded the corner where Lucas was hiding, and just as the kid looked up, Lucas flung the door closed and slammed him in the head. The boy stumbled and moaned a little before passing out. In one motion Lucas stole his baseball cap and dragged the kid to midship, where one of the boats was tied up.
Lucas looped a rope harness around the boy and lowered him through the railing and down onto the paddles in the boat below. Using his scuba knife, Lucas cut the rope holding the boat and set it adrift. The tide would soon wash it ashore.
Then Lucas scurried back to the front deck and took the boy’s place. Carefully keeping his head down, he ate and drank and watched TV all night long with his new best friends.
A FRENCH CONNECTION
Just past sunrise the next day Lucas woke to a throbbing sound.
He squinted and spotted a small helicopter, a Robinson R22, flying over the water toward them. Lucas stayed still and watched. Some of the other boys got up and waved. A second later Lucas read the name on the helicopter’s side door. Interpol.
There wasn’t much time left to make something happen. The Leviathan swayed in the water with the Barcelona harbor just off to the northwest. Whoever was piloting the drone ship was stopping it before they docked in the marina.
The Leviathan’s automatic chains clanged through their hawseholes, and the anchors splashed into the sea, bringing the cargo ship to a full and complete stop. For a second the Interpol helicopter hovered over the bow.
Lucas glanced at his clothes. No one had noticed him all night. He was dressed like the Curukians in wet-suit shorts and shirt with a diver’s knife strapped to his calf. He pulled the brim of his black cap down over his eyes and joined the Curukians.
The R22 was tiny and took up little space as it landed on the deck.
The helicopter door opened, and a woman wearing an Interpol uniform and long black boots stepped out. Her name tag read AGENT CHARLOTTE JANSSENS. She took off her headset and tossed it back onto her seat. Following this officer was a boy Lucas immediately thought he recognized. The kid carried a cane and looked exactly like Hervé, the French guy who kept showing up everywhere when they were in Paris.
Couldn’t be, Lucas thought.
Acting like the boss, Mac stood and shook hands with them. They spoke for a second, and then Lucas heard the French kid say to Mac, “But of course!”
It was most definitely Hervé Piveyfinaus.
This could be really good news, Lucas thought. Or really bad.
EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED
Lucas positioned himself at the back of a clump of Curukians and watched.
Wind swirled from the helicopter with deep, thumping throbs as the engine came to a rest. Lucas felt like his heart was beating louder than the spinning blades.
Mac led Hervé and the Interpol agent down a series of steps to his makeshift office. He motioned for them to sit on the couch.
Hervé set his cane down and sank into the cushions, but the officer stood and surveyed the ship’s deck.
She spoke over the sound of the TV generator. “I’m Agent Charlotte Janssens with Interpol,” she said. “What are you boys doing on this ship?”
Mac sat up in his chair and surveyed his crew. “We work for Ms. Günerro and the Good Company,” he said. Then he pointed toward the couch. “Just like Hervé here.”
Hervé sat up, his French accent thick. “How do you know me?”
“I’ve studied your file,” Mac said. “You’re supposedly trying to leave the Good Company and help the New Resistance, but you can’t seem to get away because you know the Good Company does everything good.”
“Not true!”
“So why are you here?” Mac asked.
“Ms. Günerro,” Hervé said, “ordered me to be here.”
“That’s because she doesn’t trust you,” Mac said.
Agent Janssens stepped forward. “I’m looking for Lucas Benes.”
Mac leaned back and cupped his hands behind his head. “Lucas went overboard,” he said. “Literally.”
Hiding his face under the brim of the cap, Lucas looked around at the other boys. None of them recognized him. Still, he was afraid that the nervous pounding of his heart would give him away.
Eye Patch stood next to Mac and grinned. “Arr,” he said, sounding like a pirate. “Lucas went off after a whale!”
The other Curukians suddenly burst out laughing like a pack of hyenas. Lucas played along.
Agent Janssens wiped the sweat from her brow. “You mean to tell me,” she said, “that Lucas Benes jumped ship?”
“Not in that way,” said the big kid who had helped throw Lucas off. “You know, maybe Lucas wanted to go for a swim or maybe he took one of the lifeboats. It’s a free world, you know. He’s probably on one of the beaches back there at Mallorca having a fruit drink and working on his tan.”
“Where are the others?” Hervé said.
“There are no others,” Mac said. He gestured toward Lucas and the Curukians on the deck. “It’s just us.”
Hervé grabbed his cane and shook it at the Interpol agent. To Lucas this was a good sign.
Agent Janssens’s eyebrows crinkled as she stared at a pile of diamonds on Mac’s desk.
“You’re not allowed to take anything off this ship, you know,” she said.
“Yeah we know,” Mac said.
“I’m also looking for a container,” Agent Janssens said.
“Well,” Mac said, extending his hand, “you’ve come to the right place.”
The Curukians laughed.
“I’m looking for a particular container,” she said.
“We’ve already located it for you,” Mac said. He pointed toward the Stonehenge clump of containers. “It’s right over there behind that pile.”
“Good,” Agent Janssens said. “In just a minute Ms. Günerro is coming with a heavy-lift helicopter to remove the container from this ship.”
What! Lucas thought. In a minute? He looked out over the water and spotted a giant helicopter motoring toward them.
They were coming to ge
t the phi container,
Mac stood. “Ms. Günerro doesn’t like to wait,” he said, signaling the boys with the hooks and pulleys and straps. “We better get things ready before she gets here.”
This group of boys went behind the Stonehenge pile and began hooking the straps to the phi container, preparing it to be lifted off the ship. While these boys worked, Agent Janssens and Hervé walked around the deck inspecting the cargo that was scattered everywhere.
They stopped right next to Lucas.
Cold reality hit Lucas. In a few minutes Ms. Günerro was going to take the Kapriss diamonds away by helicopter. This time forever.
Do I just let her take the container? Lucas’s thoughts ran negative. Or do I try to trick her into taking a different one? Then I would take the diamonds and give them to . . . to charity? What would I do with diamonds? Lucas remembered that with the Good Company he needed to think backward. It’s not what a person would do with diamonds. The question is what would someone not do with diamonds?
His idea formed. Lucas would do something entirely unexpected.
WORK AS A TEAM
Lucas could see the boys on top of the Stonehenge pile connecting several thick cables to the phi container. He turned and faced Hervé's profile and nudged the cane with his foot.
The French kid cut Lucas a glance.
Hervé's eyes connected with Lucas’s, and they lit up. “Lucas!” Hervé said.
Lucas turned his back and Hervé stopped himself, and his tone calmed as he spoke to Agent Janssens. “Lucas Benes,” he said, “would never have been on this ship without the New Resistance. They work as a team.”
Agent Janssens’s eyebrows dipped. “So where are they, then?”
Hervé scanned the mountain of metal boxes. “The New Resistance often travels in containers,” Hervé said. “And I recently heard that they are now solar powered. So they would have to be up top.” He pointed with the cane. “Like that one there.”
Agent Janssens marched straight up to Mac. “I may have a special arrangement with Mr. Magnus, Ms. Günerro, and the Good Company,” she said. “But I don’t take kindly to children lying to police officers. Give me the key.”
Mac dug a reluctant hand in his pocket and pulled out a key ring and handed it to Agent Janssens, who took off climbing up the stacks of containers.
A second later Lucas and Hervé left the main deck and hid behind another broken door. Within minutes Agent Janssens was leading the group of New Resistance kids back down to the deck.
“Psst,” Lucas called from behind the door.
“Lucas?” Jackknife said.
Hervé and the New Resistance kids stopped and huddled behind the door with Lucas while Agent Janssens continued down to the front of the ship.
“I thought you were dead,” Kerala said.
“Never,” Lucas said.
Hervé put a big smile on and waved down to Agent Janssens and Mac and the other Curukians.
“Hervé?” Astrid asked. “What are you doing here?”
The French kid put his head back behind the door. “I’m here to help.”
“You always show up everywhere,” Travis said.
“But of course.”
Astrid turned to Lucas. “Jackknife said they threw you overboard.”
“They did,” he said. “Long story, but I climbed back up.”
Travis pointed toward the giant helicopter that was now approaching the ship.
Jackknife said, “Let me take a wild guess who this is coming to our party.”
Lucas said, “She’s here to take the container.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Alister said.
“We must,” Hervé said, “make it impossible.”
“I need a minute,” Lucas said. “And some of Alister’s know-how with that plasma torch.”
Astrid nodded. “I can stall Ms. Günerro for five, ten minutes,” she said.
Lucas motioned for Alister to come on.
Alister stopped. “The plasma torch and generator are going to be clunky,” he said. “We’ll need help.”
Jackknife spoke up. “Astrid and Travis are the best with arguments,” he said. “Kerala and I can back you up.”
“Kerala,” Alister said, “get the liter of gas from the bunk room and meet us at the phi container behind Stonehenge.”
Lucas said to Astrid, “Just make sure everyone still thinks I’m lost at sea.”
“Good luck,” Astrid said.
“Thanks,” Lucas said. “I’ll need it.”
ENTER MS. GÜNERRO
The Chinook helicopter with its two rotor blades hovered over the open space on the deck. The side door slid open, and Charles Magnus stood in the doorway. He was wearing gray-and-white-camouflaged fatigues and goggles. The head of Good Company Security unfurled two ropes down to the deck of the Leviathan.
Behind him, Ms. Günerro, wearing blue-and-white-camouflaged fatigues, appeared.
Looking like synchronized acrobats in the Cirque du Soleil, Magnus and Ms. Günerro descended their ropes and waved to the Curukians below. Their boots sparkled, and the loose fabric on their outfits flapped in the wind. The boys on deck formed a circle, and Magnus and Ms. Günerro dropped into the middle of them.
As soon as her feet hit the deck, Ms. Günerro asked, “Where are my diamonds?”
THE OPPOSITE OF THE OPPOSITE
With a pair of cat-eye goggles stretched across her eyes, Siba Günerro looked out over the deck of the cargo ship. The president and CEO of the Good Company gripped the railing as the Leviathan rocked in the warm water off the eastern coast of Spain.
The sunlight sparkled on the sea, highlighting the yachts and fishing vessels, the ferries and cruise ships that were moving to and from the old harbor. Due west, the skyline of Barcelona burned in the August haze.
Thundering overhead, the giant Chinook heavy-lift helicopter hovered in anticipation.
Ms. Günerro removed her goggles and flung them to Magnus, who was standing just behind her. She slipped on a pair of cat-eye sunglasses and inspected the debris scattered across the deck. From a pouch on her outfit she pulled a satchel of frozen peas and popped one in her mouth.
She strutted over to Mac’s “office.”
“Well, well, well,” she said. “It certainly looks like my ship has finally come in.”
Talking over the sound of the helicopter and TV generator, Ms. Günerro gave a speech to the Curukians who were gathered in front of her. They clapped wildly at everything she said.
Still dressed as a Curukian scuba diver, Lucas led Alister and Jackknife as they zipped around the middle section of the ship and located the welding cart, the plasma torch, and its generator. They carried the equipment down through the gaps between the giant boxes and set up shop behind the Stonehenge of containers.
Lucas scurried up the ladder and checked on the hoisting cables the Curukians had placed on top of the phi container. He halfway unlocked two of them so that it looked like they were still attached.
When he climbed back down to the deck, Kerala was already filling the welding equipment tank with gas. Jackknife hooked up the generator while Alister attached the air and power supply hoses to the plasma torch.
Alister screwed in the pilot igniter and adjusted the air pressure and amperage. Then he suited up with a welder’s helmet and gloves. He gave them a double thumbs-up, then positioned himself about halfway down the side of the phi container where he found a soft spot in the metal.
Alister flipped open his visor. “Let it rip,” he said, and slapped the face mask closed.
Jackknife fired up the machines.
Alister clicked his gun, and a short blue flame jumped out. He knelt and put the torch to the bottom of the container and slowly began cutting into it. As soon as he touched the plasma gun to the metal, white sparks shot out.
“Curukians,” Kerala said. “Three o’clock.”
There were two boys who looked like they were on security detail pacing the perimeter of
the ship.
Lucas gave Kerala his diving knife. “Drop those guys in one of the boats,” he said.
Without saying a word, Jackknife and Kerala chased the boys down and jumped them from behind. While his friends dealt with the Curukians, Lucas crawled under the Stonehenge containers. There he burrowed himself deep inside a mound of clothes. He moved to the edge of the pile and peered out. From this point of view Lucas could see the main deck. He couldn’t quite hear everything. The TV generator and the helicopter were making serious noise, which was a good thing since they would drown out the sound of the plasma torch.
On the other side of Stonehenge, Ms. Günerro was still talking to a ring of Curukians.
Magnus, Mac, and Ms. Günerro shuffled through the debris and across the deck. They stopped at the giant pile of clothes where Lucas was hiding. He could see the sparkles on Ms. Günerro’s blue boots.
Astrid, Travis, and Hervé were in a conversation with Agent Janssens when suddenly she turned and approached the CEO of the Good Company.
Lucas listened closely.
“Ms. Günerro,” the agent said, almost yelling above the noise. “Everyone at Interpol appreciates the support you give to all our various international charities.”
“You’re very welcome,” Ms. Günerro said. “Being good just comes naturally to me.”
The agent turned her attention to Magnus. “I have just one tiny problem remaining....”
Magnus nodded impatiently. “What about?”
“It’s all right, Chuckie,” Ms. Günerro said. “I wanted an agent from Interpol here so that when we take our container, it would clearly show that the Good Company followed the rule of international law.”
Ms. Günerro tipped her sunglasses down and looked over the top. “Agent Janssens, please continue. I love those boots, by the way.”
Agent Janssens blushed. “Thank you,” she said. “I got them in Rome.” She cleared her throat. “The problem is that I sent out a bulletin about Lucas Benes.”
What about him?” Magnus said.
Agent Janssens said, “These children on board tell me that Lucas went overboard during the night.”