The Mystery of the Solar Wind

by Lyz Russo

  ~

  “I wonder if Dr Jake is ready with his electronics shield.” The Captain pressed a few buttons on his wrist-com. “Dr Jake, come in – how far is that shield?”

  “Incomplete yet, sir, but we can use it for partial disturbance.”

  “Thanks, Dr Jake. We’ll use it. Can’t disturb them enough, where I’m concerned!”

  “Obviously we’ll have to sail under a false identity,” said Marsden. “The San Diego?”

  “Paean Donegal busted that one,” smiled Lascek. “And the Santa Marguerita will be all over their records now. Got to create a new one.”

  “Captain, can I go listen to Sherman?” asked Rushka.

  Lascek studied his daughter for a moment. Well, she was only nineteen, and these heavy survival issues shouldn’t strictly be her concern. Other girls her age were having fun at University!

  “Only I find that I get better ideas from his stories,” said Rushka.

  “Go, little rogue,” laughed Lascek. “Go play with the other kids! Jon and I will take care of the Panama business.”

  “Thanks, Papa.”

  The ship’s ghost peered at the solitary little figure up there on the jib deck by the bowsprit, in the wind, catching the spray of the prow wave. Sherman’s probing had cut close to the truth. Federi could sense the stress radiating from the little redhead.

  Should he go and tell her that she shouldn’t worry, everything would be alright? But what if it wasn’t? What if her deed was so awful it broke all rules of humanity? There was really no way of telling. In reality he didn’t actually want to know, either. It was up to Captain to deal with that kind of thing. Or to choose not to.

 

  “The Bronberg,” Wolf prompted.

  “Now, the Bronberg,” Sherman agreed. “Beautiful ship. Beautiful crew, too. Black as ink, tall, straight marines.”

  “I thought a Namakura was a coastal guard?” asked Shawn. He had been reading!

  “In the same way that the Solar Wind is a Trader,” agreed Sherman grinning. “At any rate, pirates. Mwali. Mutsamudu.”

  “Incantations,” grinned Wolf Svendsson.

  “Places,” corrected Sherman. “The Unicate suspected goings-on in those regions. So they sent the Bronberg, from Southern.”

  “But I thought Southern Free is a free country?” There. Decks after all. Luckily Ronan was practiced with scrubbing by now.

  “Is, and was even then,” smiled Sherman. “They were currying favour with the Unicate though, those were the early days. And didn’t the Unicate send the Bronberg of all ships to Mayotte to investigate what is going on there? O’ course, this is right after the strike of Nemesis II, so the Earth’s crust is unstable. Volcanoes all over. New uncharted islands springing out of the sea.”

  “Uncharted islands?” asked Ronan sceptically.

  Wolf had told Shawn at some point that Sherman was over a hundred years old! Well, that would account for the holes in the stories! Paean with her sharp tongue had of course told Shawn not to believe everything Wolf Svendsson said…

  “Of course,” said Sherman. “You’d think, a place like the Mozambique Channel… Nobody goes there! Only slavers and drug dealers!”

  “It’s a major trade route,” said Ronan.

  “Today, yes, today,” said Sherman. “In those days… anyway, the Bronberg goes in. She travels up the coast – now, the Captain of the Bronberg’s no fool. The Agulhas runs south there. But there’s a counter current, known to the ships of old, closer to the shore. The Captain’s a dare-devil, he –“

  He glanced up at Rushka, who had suddenly popped up out of the floor.

  “What about the Captain, Sherman?”

  “This is another captain,” laughed Sherman. “Sit down, Rushka! Mustn’t be so sudden! You’ll give an old sailor a heart-attack!”

  “Sorry, Sherman.” Rushka settled in the general vicinity of the Donegal brothers.

  “So every now and then a new island pops up out of the sea,” said Sherman. “Covered with seaweed and dying anemones and rock-pools full of starfish. And sometimes a whole sunken ship is raised to the surface that way, full of ancient treasure.”

  “But why uncharted?” pressed Ronan. “Wouldn’t that information be available instantly on the Net?”

  “Och, the Net,” said Sherman Dougherty. “They didn’t have the Net in those days, now did they?”

  “Ouch,” said Wolf. Sherman’s bushy white eyebrows lifted. He’d have to be subtler with his lies. Wolf was in on the ploy, but this had been an instinctive reaction.

  “But shouldn’t they be visible from the satellites?” insisted Ronan.

  Sherman Dougherty rolled his eyes. “Complicated. Volcanic islands are very small.”

  “Come on! Ships in Tokyo Harbour are visible from satellite! Saw a photo back in…” Ronan trailed off.

  “I’d love to be that high up,” said Shawn enthusiastically. “What a feeling!”

  “Back in…?” asked Sherman, studying Ronan critically.

  “The Bronberg,” prompted Wolf again.

  “Och all right, the Bronberg,” said Sherman, who realized that no matter what he did, he wasn’t going to get out of telling that story. “Now o’ course, isn’t that area prime habitat for whales?”

  “Whales?” asked Shawn excitedly. “They still exist?” Despite Federi’s assurance that this was the Ocean, he hadn’t yet spotted one.

  “Hear me out, Donegal! Sheesh, Donegal Minor and Donegal Major! Whales are known to do battle with giant squid. Humboldt squid.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? They eat them, now don’t they? Either way round, depending who wins! Now, the suckers of giant squid are ten centimetres across. The squid themselves are fifteen to eighteen metres in length. Work out the size.”

  Ronan got up and paced out fifteen metres.

  “I don’t think so,” he commented. Shawn watched, with eyes wide.

  “Fifteen feet,” corrected Wolf.

  “There’s that,” said Sherman. “And what about the whale shark? Size of a whale, rises out of the twilight zone at night to feed. I’ll tell you, things grow bigger down there! Leftover species from the Pleistocene. Who knows what all lurks in the deep?”

  Blond Rhine Gold sounded as though he had a coughing fit. Within seconds they all knew he was trying not to laugh too loudly. He had settled close by with a pile of potatoes and was calmly peeling them while listening. Duties were duties, tall story or not.

 

  Paean had gone to her cabin to put on a jersey. Despite the tropics she suddenly felt chilly. Cold and alone. She hung about the frugal cubicle for a while, sitting on her bunk, trying to think of something to do. She could have done with her old weather-beaten teddy bear now, but he had stayed behind in Molly Street like everything else. Like Mother. Her mind shied away from that.

  She switched off the light and tried to sleep. It was hopeless. Images haunted her. Ten restless minutes later she got up impatiently and left her cabin.

  There was still light and movement in the cabin across the passage. Paean peered in through the for once open door. Usually the Doc kept the door closed religiously; all Paean had glimpsed so far was a fridge at the far end.

  White equipment and clean surfaces met her eye everywhere. She marvelled. Red displays on great square metal appliances gave what seemed to be temperature readings. There was a translucent machine with a jelly-like substance in it, with many little orange lines travelling across it. There were columns of reinforced silica-plex, sporting bands of colour along them. Everything either bolted into place, or placed into wells, holders and clamps to keep it steady. An extractor fan operated ceaselessly over the workspace.

  “Paean,” said Doc Judith. “Come in!” She handed Paean a paper mask. “Put this on. Don’t contaminate the air!” She grabbed a spray-bottle and sprayed at Paean. A very cold, sweet mist.
Paean sniffed and her eyes started tearing.

  “Don’t breathe that, unless you want to get drunk,” said Doc Judith. “It’s seventy percent ethanol.”

  “Can I lend a hand?” asked Paean, finding her bearings. “I’m feeling useless.”

  “There’s not much to lend,” replied the Doc. “But you can keep me company. Sit over there!” She motioned to a compounding barstool that had been bolted into place next to a work surface. “Did you have chemistry in school?”

  “A bit.” Paean took a seat and studied the elderly lady doctor. Doc Judith had to be sixtyish. Her hair was tied back into a loose bun; this was clearly for practical purposes, but Paean had never seen her wear it any other way. It made sense. “But what I really want to learn is medicine. Want to be able to heal people.”

  “Really? It’s a tough field,” said the Doc.

  “Och, I’m tough as well,” said Paean. “And I already know some herb lore.”

  “Herb lore!” Doc Judith paused. “You know herbal medicine?”

  “A bit,” said Paean.

  “How did you get by that knowledge?”

  Paean went silent. This was dangerous ground.

  The Doc read her worried expression.

  “All right, I won’t push,” she said. “I only hope you’re over your addiction?”

  “Addiction?!” Now Paean Donegal was incensed. “Hell, no! There’s no addiction in our family! Doc, do I look like a girl who would voluntarily drink or smoke her brains away?”

  “No,” laughed Doc Judith. She was relieved. So that was not where the herb lore had come in! “Which herbs do you know?” she asked.

  “Well, the most important is probably willow bark,” said Paean. “Aspirin by another name! I know they don’t have aspirin as a drug in the pharmacies, but it does everything. Breaks a fever, kills pain, protects the heart… so I extract my own out of willow bark.”

  “Beauty,” commented the Doc. “And -?”

  Paean thought a bit. “Nettle, for detoxing the kidneys. Cranberries against migraines.”

  “Didn’t know that one,” said Doc Judith, surprised. “Does it work?”

  “Like a bomb,” said Paean. “What else do I know? Basic stuff, Doc… Chamomile and fennel for upset stomach, Valerian for sleeplessness and anxiety…”

  “Elder,” said the Doc, enthused. “For…?”

  “Antiseptic and antiviral,” replied Paean without hesitating. “But it doesn’t always work.”

  “It does,” argued Doc Judith. “It used to be the sacred tree of the gypsies, did you know?”

  “And the druids,” agreed Paean. “St John’s Wort for depression…” She grinned nastily. “Foxglove for poisoning people’s espresso…”

  “Paean!” The Doc shook her head. “That’s not particularly funny. And have you brought any of your herbs aboard with you?”

  “Only a bit of hemlock,” said Paean casually.

  “I hope that’s another tasteless joke,” said the Doc. “And why this interest in herbology?”

  “Doc, we’re from Molly Street,” said Paean. “That’s not a rich place. We cut corners. We grow our own potatoes in our gardens. Medications are expensive. I was the neighbourhood herb witch. Used to make remedies for everyone. Mother and me. Our remedies always worked.” She went quiet, frowning. Battling.

  “And where’s Mother now?” probed the Doc.

  Paean turned away. “Excuse me, Doc, I need the bathroom,” she said and made her escape.

  “It’s called the heads,” Doc corrected in her absence. She activated her wrist-com. “Captain, a free moment?”

  “Certainly, Doc.”

  “About the Donegals.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Lascek tiredly. “That’s one I’ve been putting off. They’re nice kids, actually. Did one of them say something?”

  “I’m afraid it may be rather sinister,” said Doc Judith.

  “So, the Bronberg, Sherman,” Wolf pushed.

  “You know, the sad thing? I can’t really remember what happened to the blue Bronberg,” said Sherman. “She went in to investigate the slaver situation and uncovered an illegal nuclear testing site. Was already on her way back to Cape Town when she disappeared.”

  “What!” Now he had their attention.

  “We think it was a rogue wave,” said Sherman. “Happens a lot, in that Channel.”

  “Rogue wave,” said Shawn. “What’s that?”

  “Where the surf from a storm collides with a major current,” said Sherman. “They can get thirty metres high. They swallow ships.”

  “Thirty feet?” guessed Ronan.

  “Hundred feet,” said Sherman. “Thirty metres. Fourteen stories on a mid-city flats block. You Donegals haven’t yet weathered a proper storm at sea. We’ve had surprisingly fair weather so far this passage. Wait and see! And the Bronberg was sighted about two years back, off the Cape of Storms. Work that one out!” He got up. “Please, kids, excuse me. I can’t focus on my tall tale. That Panama debacle’s worrying me too much.” He moved towards the bridge.

  Ronan got up and followed him at a run.

  “Sherman, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to break your speed.”

  Sherman chuckled. “You didn’t, Donegal! I was waiting for much more from you, actually. But I’m serious. Panama’s a death trap. We’ll have to try talking Captain into rounding the Cape. We’ll not make it through Panama this time.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse.” Sherman walked off to the bridge, leaving Ronan standing worrying. This was a lot worse than any ghost story. This was their life!

  He turned, and nearly tripped as he came face to face with the very sudden Rushka.

  “Captain demands to see the Donegals in the boardroom!”

 

  8 - The Donegals’ trial

 

  Cold spotlights irradiated the blue boardroom from all around the tops of the walls. The huge flat screen against the stern-side wall was off; not in use. At Captain’s fake pine boardroom table, Jon Marsden and Doc Judith had taken seats; Federi was in an inconspicuous corner, apparently absorbed in assembling some or other small gadget. The door was closed; but Paean knew that Rushka was guarding, outside.

  The Donegal sibs were standing, lined up for execution. The large, carved analogue clock over the screen was ticking softly, tick, tick. Carved out of compounding. Strange how such details stood out when it was your last hour that was ticking away. Oh hell, oh hell, she should have had the sense and stayed out of that lab! And kept her loud trap shut! Paean Loudmouth, she berated herself. Rats all over!

  She thought back to the blue early this morning; to the way things had almost normalized in her mind, with their predicament almost forgotten, and such issues as recalcitrant friends taking her attention. She should have realized. Her guard had slipped. Their borrowed days were up; all three of them were going to pay with their lives for her carelessness.

  Radomir Lascek paced before them, measured, grave.

  “When I hire new crew,” he said eventually, “it’s always a surprise packet. Donegals, let me first apologize. I as your Captain should have taken care of this the day you boarded. I might say in my defence that I had my mind on somewhat larger things.”

  Paean’s eyes darted to the gathered older crew. Witnesses, that was all they were. And of course Doc Judith, the prosecutor. She saw Federi’s mouth twitch at the “larger things”. But when she looked at him, he avoided her eyes.

  “Take this to heart, Donegals,” announced Radomir Lascek. “The Solar Wind is a pirate ship. Does this mean we have no law? No! On the Solar Wind, I am the Law! I make the law, I enforce it; I deal with who oversteps it.”

  Paean heard Ronan swallow.

  What form would their execution take? Would Captain hand them over to the Unicate? Would he kill them himself? She hoped that her brothers wou
ld forgive her.

  “Paean Donegal,” said Radomir Lascek, bending down to eye level with her, placing a firm, authoritative hand on her shoulder. “One of my most important laws is that of secrecy. No secrets from the Captain, on the Solar Wind!”

  She nodded, her throat dry.

  “What are you hiding? What have you done?”

  “She’s done nothing, Captain, she’s innocent,” said Ronan.

  Radomir Lascek shot the young man a single glance, then returned his attention to Paean.

  “If you are innocent, why do you fear execution?”

  Paean stared straight ahead and said nothing. If she said nothing, nothing could be held against her. It was a silly notion.

  The Captain straightened out and glared at Ronan.

  “And you? Speak up!”

  “Captain, we’re innocent,” said Ronan.

  Lascek shook his head. Paean watched him, then glanced again at Federi, who was studying her. For once there was no humour in his black eyes, only – sadness? Almost a friend, she thought glumly. If she had trusted him and told him? Could he have turned things? Or would he have turned them in? Would he have kept mum and she’d simply have had a friend for a few days?

  Radomir Lascek’s cold glare brushed Paean once more, then he turned to Shawn. The boy would have grown into a man taller than Captain, thought Paean. And a better man! How low, to cut him down now while he was still small and defenceless! She took in how her little brother stood proud, fearless, facing his Captain with confidence.

  Aw hell! How could she allow Captain to ruin that? As Radomir Lascek drew a breath to speak, Paean interrupted.

  “Captain…”

  He turned back to her.

  “Will you let my brothers go? I’ll tell you all.”

  “Paean, no!” exclaimed Ronan. “Captain, she’s done nothing! She’s innocent!”

  “Donegal, quiet!” thundered Lascek. “Let your sister speak!”

  Paean took a deep breath. Here we go, she thought. “Captain, do you promise you’ll let my brothers go? After all the Unicate only needs one guilty party.”

  “Paean –“ started Ronan and flinched from the Captain’s glare.

  “Paean Donegal, this is like the proverbial dentistry. State your case and then we shall decide! Dr Judith mentioned that it might have something to do with you giving your mother unwholesome herbal preparations. Paean Donegal, tell me everything.”

  Paean nearly felt the electric shock that went through the gypsy. She glanced. He turned his head away. She blinked, confused. What was that Captain had said? “Captain, pardon?”

  “You poisoning your mother,” repeated Radomir Lascek patiently.

  “Poisoning Mother!” This was one too many. It started as an exclamation and ended as a great, heartbroken sob. “No! That’s not true! I didn’t!”

  Mother, lying grey and emaciated in her bed, bleeding, bleeding ceaselessly, from her nose, her eyes, her mouth... Blood all over her, over the sheets, the pillow, Paean’s hands… Mother had died in her arms. Tears came down in a torrential deluge. She couldn’t stop them. The box had been opened. The nightmares spilled out of it, there was no way to put them back and ram the lid back into place. Paean covered her face in her hands.

  A gentle hand touched her shoulder. The elderly Doc was there beside her.

  “I misunderstood, didn’t I?”

  Doc Judith had no idea. Guilty as charged. Herbal home-remedies were illegal; and with reason. Sometimes they went wrong.

  Radomir Lascek studied the scene of the nervous breakdown, and then the other two sibs. He wouldn’t push Shawn with a feather right now; the boy looked as though he were going to go the way of his sister in a second. There was no information to be got out of him now. Ronan remained standing, straight, proud – and mightily angry.

  Radomir Lascek focused on the older brother, frowning. They could cover all they liked, with anger and tears and emotional breakdowns – but he would get their dark secret out of them! He had to! He didn’t ship a crew of pirates around the world out of sight of the Unicate only to endanger them with the presence of real criminals!

  “So Ronan, if that’s not what happened, would you care to enlighten me? Why are you three on the run? If your mother wasn’t poisoned, what did Paean actually do to her? Was it an accident? Was it drug-related?”

  Ronan took a deep breath.

  “Captain, with respect. That was unnecessarily cruel! My sister has suffered the most of all of us. How can you accuse her of something so vile?”

  “Without knowing the facts, Donegal?”

  He could literally see the cogs working in the oldest Donegal’s mind. The young man was clearly weighing up the risks of telling him the truth against the risk of remaining silent. If they refused to talk, he’d turn them over in Plymouth, he thought. Send in Jon Marsden, or Federi… But they would talk! He had experience in making people tell him things.

  Clearly the truth won out. Ronan’s shoulders lifted in a hell-with-it expression.

  “Captain, in brief, here’s what happened,” he said. “I don’t know what the regulations are in the rest of the world, but in Dublin you need a medical care license if you want to be treated by a doctor when you get ill. Our license was up for its yearly renewal and we didn’t have the quid. So it lapsed. My sibs are under age and we hadn’t yet figured out that if we play a gig I’m the earner and they’re just there for the fun. That’s legal.”

  “And your father?” asked Radomir Lascek.

  He could see how the boy had to restrain himself from spitting on the deck. “What’s a father, Captain?”

  “Do carry on!” prompted Lascek. He had thought so.

  “So our mother came home ill from the factory the one day,” continued Ronan. “Once you’re ill, you can forget it, they’re not renewing the license without a fine the value of your head. We think it was a virus. But on second thought, it may have been poison. Paean and she tried fighting it out with herbal medication, but it was no use. She bled to death, eventually. Was not pretty!”

  He sniffed loudly but kept staring defiantly at the Captain. Radomir Lascek nodded.

  “So it wasn’t your sister’s herbal concoctions that killed your mother?”

  “Captain, we’re from Molly Street,” said Ronan proudly. “Mother was our neighbourhood healer. Who needs doctors?” He glanced at Doc Judith. “With respect, Doctor. But Paean and our mother cured a lot of common colds and flu’s and tonsillitis and stomach upsets – a lot of things with their herbs. I would say, Paean and our mother knew their herbs too well to make mistakes. In any case they never used the really poisonous ones. Too risky.”

  “So then if you are innocent, why did you run?”

  “We’re legally liable for her death because in those six months we couldn’t raise the licence penalty money,” replied Ronan. “Maybe the hospital could have saved her. Unicate came looking for us the day she died.”

  “That same day?” asked Lascek.

  “Yes.” Ronan shrugged. “We’ve broken many laws, Captain. We stopped school. We all three worked under age. We used herbal medication on a dying person. We evaded justice. We had to leave her there…” He stared straight up at the ceiling, fighting for his voice back. “So, Captain, if you want to put us to death for that, pick me and spare my sibs. I’m the adult in the equation.”

  “How long between her getting sick and her dying?” asked Jon Marsden, worried.

  “Six months,” said Ronan.

  Radomir Lascek started pacing. This was grave! He exchanged troubled glances with Jon Marsden, who scowled back; then with Federi.

  “ ‘s the truth,” mouthed the gypsy.

  “I know,” replied Lascek dismally. “Easier if it weren’t! Ye Powers, and what do we do now?” He turned to Doc Judith, who was talking softly at Paean, trying to pacify her. “Doc, what do y
ou make of that?”

  “Pardon, Captain?” asked the doctor. “I wasn’t listening.”

  Radomir Lascek repeated the essence of Ronan’s story.

  “Haemorrhagic fever,” said Doc Judith. “Bio-engineered to stretch over six months. The original wipes you out in forty-eight hours. Those bio-engineered viruses defeat the strongest immune system. Paean, there’s nothing wrong with your herbal remedies. You had no chance from the beginning. A shot of highly specific antiviral along with interferon would have fixed it.”

  “That’s what the Unicate withheld, via the expired license,” commented Lascek. “Doc, so the Unicate hunts them for the death of their mother, and they step aboard and damn the whole crew of the Solar Wind?”

  Doc Judith fell silent. The clock ticked.

  “None of us caught it in six months,” said Ronan. “Paean was working the closest with Mom, she was helping her, practically the whole time.”

  “The incubation time might be even longer,” the Doc pointed out. She stared darkly at the three siblings.

  Ronan cleared his throat.

  “So, Captain, what happens now? Will you turn us over to the Unicate in Plymouth?”

  Radomir Lascek turned to his officers. “Conference on the bridge,” he ordered. “Who stays behind with the Donegals?”

  “I shall,” volunteered Doc Judith.

  “No, Doc, I need you in the conference. Federi?”

  “Shukar, Captain,” said the gypsy.

  The Captain, Doc Judith and Jonathan Marsden left the boardroom, taking Rushka with them who had been on guard outside the door.

 

  Silence descended in the boardroom. The three sibs stared at each other, frightened. They dashed suspicious glances at Federi.

  “It’s going to be okay,” said Shawney eventually. “I’m sure Captain thinks like a fair man.”

  “He’s going to make us walk the plank,” argued Paean moodily. “Sorry, you two. My loud mouth!”

  The gypsy’s eyebrows went up, and he smiled at Paean.

  “Least you’re innocent,” he said. “See it that way.”

  A bio-engineered virus! She sighed and shrugged, close to tears again. Innocent. Months of shaky guilt released her slowly, one by one like a swarm of disinterested piranhas. It had looked like a common flu at first, and Paean had made Mother their own home-mixed flu remedy as she always did; but it didn’t go away, and so Paean had upped the strength and frequency of the tea, uneasily because she knew that it also thinned the blood. Then the nose bleeds started; Paean immediately stopped giving Mother any further willow bark based tea and started her investigation into other herbs. Cat’s claw, kava kava… they all had side effects, and not all were equally available. She peddled small favours with a Roma family in lower Dublin to entice them to get hold of some herbs for her via their relatives and contacts in the Free Gypsies – a highly risky endeavour for both her and the Roma. And with each of the herbs, new symptoms emerged. It was a nightmare!

  The more frantically she tried to help Mother and doctor her back to health, the worse things got. Eventually she didn’t give Mother any herbs at all, in a hope that it would all go away – but once more the disease was ahead of her and turned for the worse, so that Paean resumed the herbal fight. In the same time she and her brothers pulled out all the stops to earn enough money to get that licence restored – in vain. Several times they were close – but the Unicate wanted the whole amount in a single go, and every time they went in, there was some inflation and the goal-post was once again just out of reach.

  In those months she had started fearing that Mother was sick because of her herbal teas, and especially too much willow bark tea. Or that perhaps a poisonous plant had slipped into the harvest – how, she could not imagine, but who knew. Mother died literally drowning in her own blood. Paean remembered having blood on her hands permanently those final two weeks. It haunted her at night in her dreams. Sometimes in the daytime too.

  “Federi,” Ronan’s voice interrupted her troubled musings, “what’s your position? What landed you on the Solar Wind? I’m not aware that Roma mingle easily with the gadje!”

  “Not a Rrom,” replied Federi, “Tzigan. Difference.”

  “What’s the difference?” asked Ronan.

  “Tzigany are Free Gypsies.”

  Ronan stared at Federi in surprise. The man was a Free Gypsy? Those were so elusive and secretive, few people ever met any in their lives! And they never mixed with non-gypsies! What on Earth was the man doing working on the ship, solitary, amongst gadje?

  “But –“

  Federi smiled. “I’m an outlaw,” he said with a shrug. “Aren’t we all? Good enough, Donegal?”

  “What do you think Captain will do to us?” asked Paean despondently. “For bringing the virus aboard the ship?”

  Federi sighed and glanced down at the gadget in his hands.

  “Don’t know, little songbird. Was a mistake. Should have told him, got yourselves quarantined. Can’t see how it should make much difference anyway…”

  “What do you mean, Federi?” asked Shawn.

  “Panama,” said the Tzigan grimly. “ ‘s a death trap. No way round it. No way through it. End of line. Captain won’t listen!”

  “Federi, I’m sure those are officer’s confidences,” said Ronan. “Why tell us?

  “What’s the point?” replied Federi with a shrug. “Going to die anyway, all of us, in another five or eight days. Six eggs if I tell you.”

 

  The Captain, Doc Judith and Jon Marsden returned to the boardroom with grim expressions, Rushka with them this time. The mysterious girl took up her post standing by the closed door, gazing a hole into the air. Guarding again, thought Paean.

  “Donegal,” said Radomir Lascek to Ronan, “you come with me. Federi, you supervise Shawn. Doc, as discussed.”

  Doc Judith approached Paean.

  “Come with me, Paean. To the lab.”

  Paean grabbed onto the closest chair, eyes wide with alarm. They were to be separated? Killed one by one?

  “Captain,” she begged, “please…”

  “What now, Miss Donegal?”

  “At least – can we have a bit of time to ourselves first? To say goodbye?” Tears were threatening again. She fought them down, thinking frantically. If she could only get her brothers alone, they could maybe come up with a plan, a getaway…

  “To say goodbye?” repeated Radomir Lascek, frowning. “What’s this?”

  “Why are you executing us separately?” sobbed Paean. “What’s Shawney done to deserve it? He’s just a kid! And Ro is innocent too!”

  “Execute you! What kind of a man do you think I am?” exploded the Captain. “Execute you! For the Unicate murdering your mother and then hunting you for it! There shall be no executions! I’m protecting you! The only thing I have to consider is how to protect the rest of my crew too!”

  Paean wailed loudly and hid her face. Doc Judith put her arm around her shoulders and led her out of the boardroom.

  “Sedative for you, girl,” she declared. “Did you honestly think for a second that Captain intended to put you all to death?”

  Paean nodded.

  “He’s a fair man,” said Doc Judith. “He runs a tight ship; but that’s necessary. We wouldn’t survive any other way. But he never hurts innocents. You and I, Paean, we are going to do like you said you wanted to. We’ll look after people’s health. We’re going to try and isolate your virus, and clone an antiviral.”

  “Genetics,” said Paean. “Is that not illegal?”

  “Then again we’re pirates,” Doc Judith pointed out with a smile.

  “Why did Paean have to go with Doc?” asked Shawn anxiously.

  “Taking care of the medical crisis,” said Radomir Lascek. “I hope we’re in time. We’ve been everywhere spreading it! Hamilton Port. Anya Miller and her crew!
Ali! How on Earth are we going to contain this one? It’s all over the place now!”

  “Captain, if the mother of the Donegals had it, it’s all over Dublin in any case,” said Federi.

  The Captain nodded thoughtfully.

  “You’re right, Federi. And if it is over Dublin, it ought to be over the whole world by sunset. Ha! That may in fact sort our problem in Panama! Maybe it spreads more slowly than that. Well, back to work, men! Federi, check up on Doc Judith’s progress every half-hour and report back to me.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Paean watched in apprehension as Doc Judith drew blood from her. The sample got fed into a small, sleek machine, and Doc pressed a series of buttons, programming the machine.

  “The Genitron,” she explained. They waited. Doc Judith paged in the lab’s console, pages and pages of what looked like scientific text.

  “There we go,” she said eventually, “haemorrhagic fever. Now we feed that into the Genitron…”

  The small, sleek machine emitted a beep.

  “We’ve got a match,” said Doc Judith with a completely uncharacteristic grin. “Lookie here!”

  Paean bent over the screen of the Genitron. All she could see was long rows of letters.

  “There,” said the Doc and pointed to a highlighted red area where the letters were doubled. “Now we analyse! In situ!”

  She focused on her work, typing in variables and reading, and typing some more, and reading again. Eventually she sat back.

  “Paean, listen. This is very strange. I don’t know if these data are reliable; we’ll repeat it in a second. But what it means is this. You carry the virus all over you; probably by now, all of us do. But according to this none of us is going to get sick from it. Not you either, nor your brothers.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s a disabled virus.”

  “But – my mother died from it!”

  “Yes,” agreed Doc Judith. “You have to understand the mechanism of this piece of artillery. It’s broken now. It broke when it got out of your mother – what was her name?”

  “Annie Donegal,” said Paean softly.

  “This virus is a Unicate design, specifically created for Annie Donegal,” said Doc Judith. “They didn’t want it spreading and wiping Dublin clean, that’s why they built in the safety catch. Exposure to air breaks it.”

  Paean stared at Doc Judith, only taking in half of what she was saying. “I don’t understand.”

  “We’ll clone an antiviral anyway,” said Doc Judith. “To be safe and put Captain at ease. But there’s no risk. Nobody got this virus. Your mother was assassinated, Paean.”

  Ronan found that he had been included in the discussion on the bridge about the crossing of Panama. This surprised him immensely. For now he tried to say nothing and only listen.

  “The Crow’s Nest will have to come down,” said Radomir Lascek with a sigh. “Now they know we’re radar cloaked, they’ll be looking at our outline, visually. Makes a false identity so much more difficult!”

  “Can’t we submerge all the way?” asked Ronan.

  “Those sluice gates,” replied Sherman Dougherty, who had been holding the bridge during the Donegals’ trial and was still at the console. “They only let ships through that obtain authorization. That’s the whole problem!”

  “Captain, I’d much rather round the Cape,” said Rushka. Ronan nodded. That sounded a lot more sensible.

  “I know that, Rushka,” replied Lascek. “That’s why you’re not the Captain!”

  Rushka shut her mouth.

  “We’re landing at Plymouth,” said Lascek.

  “If she’s still a free port,” commented Marsden.

  “Working on the assumption that she is,” said Lascek. “That should give us some space to think. Time to do the Solar Wind’s face change.”

  “Here I am, Captain.” Federi had gainfully employed Shawn in the galley, along with Rhine Gold, and was now reporting in for the officer’s meeting.

  “Good that you’re here,” said Lascek. “Should we call the Doc too? I suppose, not the Doc. Find out for me how things are going in the lab.”

  “Yes, Captain!”

 

  Federi appeared in the door of the lab, watching silently as Doc Judith operated the machinery. Paean raised her gaze to him, feeling drowsy and warm from the potent non-herbal sedative the doctor had given her. She was thankful for the medication; it blunted all edges to all feelings and made her too sleepy to remember.

  The gypsy was studying her out of his dark eyes.

  “Hi, Federi,” said Doc Judith, glancing up from the console.

  “Captain wants to know how things are going,” said the gypsy.

  “Smoothly,” said Doc Judith. “Tell him, we’re creating the immunization as we’re speaking. We’ll come round and inject everyone tomorrow through the day.”

  “Will tell him. Can I borrow Paean for a second?” asked Federi.

  “Certainly.”

  Nothing happened for a few seconds.

  “Paean?” prompted the Doc.

  “Uh?”

  “Go,” said the Doc, motioning.

  “Shukar, Doc,” muttered Paean. She followed the gypsy uncertainly. He only led her as far as the passageway.

  “Where did you learn that expression?” pounced Federi.

  “Heard you use it.”

  “I see.” He frowned. “Are you alright?”

  “Fine, thanks,” said the little redhead. “Just Doc gave me a sheda… a sedative.”

  Federi grinned briefly at her slip of tongue. “Feeling better about things?”

  “Shomewhat.”

  “Shee? – er, see?” He laughed and shook his mane. “Captain’s a fair man!”

  Paean smiled. Since the Captain’s verdict, her entire outlook had taken a leap. They were not living on borrowed time anymore. Their time had been given back to them, all the way: A present from Captain Radomir Lascek. They didn’t have to fear the Unicate, any more than the rest of the crew did. They didn’t have to fear execution by the Captain anymore, either. Instead he was keeping them safe. The man was her hero.

  “Thanks for looking after Shawney,” she said.

  “Sure. Stole this for you in Hamilton.” Federi handed her something turquoise.

  “Oh wow, a moonbag!” Paean beamed and fastened it around her waist. “Thanks!”

  “Pleasure,” replied Federi. “You’ll find it handy. Get back to work now! Shoo!”

  Paean smiled and returned to the lab.

  “He’s a shweet guy,” she said to the Doc.

  “That he is,” agreed Doc Judith with a smile.

  Only then did Paean find the fly in the ointment. Had he said he’d stolen it for her -?

 

 

  *

 

 

  9 - Stalling in Plymouth

  Paean opened her eyes. How she had got to her bunk, she had no recollection. She did remember vaguely about the Doc coming in the middle of the night and giving her another injection, after which she had slept some more. Now she was awake, if still lethargic.

  She recalled about all the blood. She’d had a horrible nightmare about blood. Her mother’s blood, all over her, not only her hands but her face, her mouth, her eyes; the live virus crawling into her via the blood; the sea, moving and churning blood; and then a still, cold lake of grey-green water devoid of life. The end of the world. A name. Lake Gatun.

  Somehow that eerie, empty place had spooked her worse than all the violent blood in the dream before. She had woken up screaming hysterically. Which was when Doc had given her the second shot of sedative.

  The antiviral! Paean swung her legs out of her bunk, noticing the soft leather moonbag she was clutching like a fluffy toy. Turquoise teddy bear, she thought. Yes, it would indeed come in extremely handy. She loaded her pennywhistl
e into it and strapped it around her waist before she even changed shirts. Time to report to Doc.

  Half an hour later Doc Judith and Paean went around injecting the crew with the antiviral. The doctor had briefed Paean to not tell the sailors what it was for. It was vitamins, and period. She didn’t want to precipitate panic. Of course Paean braved the first injection; then she found Ronan on the bridge, being taught the console by Rushka, and gave him his, while Doc Judith took care of the older sailors and the Captain. After Ronan, Paean injected Rushka, who simply bared her arm without a comment and accepted the sting.

  “Hurt?” asked Paean.

  “No,” said Rushka and returned to the instructing of Ronan.

  Not talkative, thought Paean. She went down the steps and trotted along to the galley and found Shawn, Rhine Gold and Federi busy preparing meals again.

  “Who goes first?” she asked, brandishing her syringe with a maniacal grin.

  “Go for it, sis,” grinned Shawn and presented his biceps.

  Paean punched him. “Relax that muscle, kiddo! Otherwise it hurts!” She injected him nicely, the way Doc had shown her. He was already her third victim, so she was picking up experience.

  “Who’s next? Reinhold?”

  The huge blond sailor blinked his sky-blue eyes in surprise. “You said it right,” he commented.

  “Course,” she replied. “Ready?”

  Rhine Gold looked a bit squeamish. Paean found it funny that such a powerful young guy should cringe from an injection.

  “Come on, Rhine, it doesn’t hurt,” encouraged Shawney. Federi glanced back from his frying pans, where tomatoes were being singed.

  Under protest and bellyaching, Rhine Gold received his injection. Paean moved on, loading the next disposable syringe from her turquoise moonbag. She looked up and caught Federi’s grin.

  “That coming in handy?”

  “Very,” she smiled. “You next?” She reached for his left sleeve.

  “Hang in there,” said Federi and ruffled up his right sleeve instead.

  “Ah,” said Paean sagely. “You’re left-handed.” She scowled at the scars that marked the olive skin of that sinewy arm. He looked as though he’d made personal contact with a meat shredder at some point in the distant past.

  The gypsy grinned and said nothing.

  Ailyss was alone in the machine room when Paean entered. The redhead had hoped that Wolf would be there too. Oh well. She loaded a syringe.

  “What is this?” asked Ailyss suspiciously.

  “Vitamins,” replied Paean. “Got to have them. We’re all getting them. Doctor’s orders.”

  “I don’t need vitamins,” said Ailyss. “No, thanks.”

  Paean sat down on a square metal box. It was a bit warm.

  “Don’t sit there!” yelped Ailyss. “That’s radioactive!”

  “Yow!” Paean got up again. “What I meant to say, Ailyss, you’d better take this injection. It covers you against the nastiest disease I’ve ever seen.”

  “What is this?” asked Ailyss again, putting down the copper wires she had been twisting. She was alone in the machine room, and there was nothing much happening, so she amused herself with metalwork. A spy novel was lying next to her, with a bookmark about halfway. Paean found this strange. She knew that her brothers thought Ailyss was an agent. She thought they must be wrong. Which agent would read spy novels?

  Sure, Ailyss was cagey and hedgy, but so had she herself been up until yesterday! Ailyss was only a bit better at it, that was all! Who knew what tragedy lurked in the older girl’s story?

  Well, there might be one in her future if she kept refusing the injection! Doc had said it was unlikely, but it couldn’t be ruled out that the disabled virus recombined with a common cold or flu or other everyday jinx to mutate into something disastrous. Virus did that, sometimes.

  “If you want to die from a haemorrhagic fever virus about seven months in the future, then refuse this injection,” said Paean. Never be vague when applying pressure; this she had learnt from having two brothers.

  The older girl studied her intently.

  “You’re serious!”

  “Dead serious. Ailyss, our mother died from that. We Donegals brought it aboard. The Doc is taking preventive measures, doesn’t want the whole crew to die!”

  “So that’s why you’ve been so cagey!” Ailyss rolled up her sleeve and presented her shoulder. “Inject away,” she said. “Sorry I gave you resistance. You never know.”

  “You’re right, you got to be careful,” agreed Paean. “Can’t just go trusting any old one. There, I hope that didn’t hurt too much?”

  “Not a bit,” lied Ailyss, smiling. “Paean, seems like you’re a sensible girl. Are you aware that this is a pirate ship?”

  Paean paused. Ailyss had not been in on that briefing.

  “You’re kidding,” she said.

  “You’re lying,” replied Ailyss, smiling. “I can tell. You already knew.”

  “Got to go,” said Paean. “Still have twenty other people to inject!”

  “Twenty?” Ailyss counted in her head. There weren’t that many sailors on the Solar Wind. “Well, have fun!” Strange kid, she thought.

  Weird girl, thought Paean as she made her way up out of the bilges.

  The Solar Wind sailed into Plymouth’s harbour later that week, under shade of night and a false identity. The Bronberg. Ronan grinned indecently about this.

  “I promise that’s the first time the Solar Wind has used that name,” old Sherman insisted. They stood on the prow, watching Plymouth’s lights. Ronan had asked Sherman whether he could have a puff on his pipe and had instead got a vicious lecture about never taking that first drag.

  To the crew’s relief the port was still a free-trading town. A beautifully Stab-free harbour greeted them.

  They docked and moored the Solar Wind, Ronan and Rhine Gold receiving instruction from Federi and Wolf on how to fasten the mooring cables on the ship by the mellow glow of the deck lights.

  “This harbour is deeper than it was when it was originally built, too,” mentioned Sherman. “The water level is higher by a number of feet.”

  “A few feet,” said Shawn, helping Ronan securing a hawser to a cleat with a huge metal clip. “Do a few feet matter? A metre or two?”

  “Do they matter! Those two or three metres caused Holland and Florida and Japan and various other flatlands to build enormous dykes! The coping mechanisms on the Pacific tropical islands were unbelievable. And Samoa was submerged. But we’re talking a good few decades ago. The sea has dropped back to within half a metre of its original level. And many of the islands have recovered.”

  “How can they recover from that?” asked Ronan, puzzled. He suspected another tall story.

  “They were actively repopulated and replanted by the Rebellion,” Federi threw in, glancing up from coiling up deck lines. The sheets, lines used for the sails, were self-coiling – those that needed to be coiled in the first place. “The original population was rescued and taken to Australia.”

  “So the Rebellion are the good guys?” asked Ronan.

  Federi got a thoughtful look. “Nu,” he said softly. “Don’t really think so.”

  The Captain allowed the Donegals to go ashore, along with Wolf and Rhine Gold. They sat in a plush coffee bar and sipped espressos with their first wages from the Solar Wind. Paean could see clearly again; the long night’s sleep and the work in the early morning had restored her brain back from the sedative. And her mood had improved by a hundred miles.

  “Nice to have wages to spend,” she grinned.

  “Even nicer that one doesn’t have to spend them,” growled Ronan, who was drinking only water. Having had the responsibility of running the Donegal household on their meagre takings from gigs, his sense of financial freedom had received a severe knock. He was too thankful that someone else had to worry about provisioning
the ship!

  “Och, relax, Ro, I’ll sponsor you for this one,” Shawn offered generously. “Get yourself something!”

  “Sweet that they allowed us ashore,” said Paean.

  “Why?” asked Wolf. “Why should you not be allowed to go ashore?”

  Paean glanced nervously at Ronan. Her loud mouth again!

  “I think it’s safe to tell him now,” said her brother. Paean explained.

  “Oh,” said Rhine Gold. “That’s why we got those injections!”

  “Exactly.”

  “That was an interesting one there in Hamilton,” said Wolf, changing the topic.

  “Could have gone wrong,” replied Ronan. “What if they had cottoned on? Are there any other ships that have Crow’s Nests?”

  “Only on the virtual records,” grinned Wolf.

  “What do you mean? – Oh!” Shawn laughed. “All the false identities of the Solar Wind!”

  “Exactly. Someone who hasn’t been operating the system too long can easily assume that a Crow’s Nest is an optional add-on for Zephyrs!”

  “So how are we going to get through Panama?” asked Rhine Gold.

  Ronan smiled.

  “You!” Rhine Gold rounded on him. “You sit in on the officer’s meetings! Won’t you leak a bit to us?”

  “Nope,” grinned Ronan. Wolf grinned too.

  “So you’re in on it as well?” asked Rhine Gold.

  “Let’s say – trust our Captain,” said Wolf. “For that matter – how long have we been sitting here wasting time?”

  “Have another cappuccino,” prompted Rhine Gold.

  “Not as good as Federi’s,” grumbled Wolf.

  “But a lot more expensive!” replied Shawn with a bright smile.

  The shore party returned around eleven, with Rushka moodily waiting for them aboard the ship. The Captain’s daughter had once again been forbidden to go ashore.

  Federi watched from the shadows. He thought he’d really have to take that up with the Captain again soon. Ever since the girl had started developing some frontage six years ago, her father had kept her locked on the ship, not allowing her ashore anywhere, ever. He didn’t want the strong-willed teen to get into trouble. This had of course resulted in secretive, insubordinate escape episodes. Federi had repeatedly helped her get out; he had also talked her back onto the ship once or twice. He’d fielded several confrontations with the Captain about this Rapunzel situation, meeting a brick wall every time. He shook his head and grinned wryly. Well, the next one was due. He’d give it some real steam this time. It might be Rushka’s last opportunity to go ashore, ever.

  The night passed; the morning dawned; they were no closer to raising anchor. The officers and the Captain met at erratic intervals, sharing their new ideas. Doc Judith returned to the lab. She was pleased that she had a little apprentice she could train; Panama was a hair-raising debacle, with or without a distracting manoeuvre. She felt, along with Rushka and the rest of the officers, that they should round the Cape. Even with painting the hull of the ship royal blue, as the crew was doing right now, and giving her the identity of Bronberg, the Doc couldn’t see how they could con the Unicate. The Crow’s Nest was going to be dismantled too, closer to Panama, on the open ocean. The Captain was wary of watchers. But even so! That stunt in Hamilton had no doubt served to turn the full attention of the Unicate on the Solar Wind.

  Doc Judith locked the lab at five in the morning, and was suddenly aware of a dark gaze.

  “Hi, Federi.”

  “Hi, Doc.”

  “You’re up early again,” she mentioned. “Checking on everything?”

  The gypsy nodded. “Not early, Doc. Late.”

  So he’d been up the whole night again!

  “Sleepless?” guessed the doctor.

  Federi grinned. “Can sleep when I’m dead!”

  “Worried,” concluded Doc Judith.

  Federi nodded gravely. “Doc, I wish Captain would listen! The officers are unanimous that we should round the Cape.”

  Doc Judith sighed. Panama had them spooked. Even Captain. If it didn’t worry him, they’d be on their way by now.

  “And you have no plan either?” she probed.

  “I do,” said Federi. “Cut and run. Best plan ever! Then again this is not a democracy,” he added with a grin.

  That was right. And they were all feeling it acutely. The whole crew was scared of Panama; the more informed they were, the more it scared them. A death-trap. But Captain wasn’t budging from his plan. And Captain’s word was law. Basta.

  Another bright blue morning. But the light-heartedness of yesterday was gone. It felt to Paean as though the blue was only a prop, and if you peeled it off the sky, behind it there was darkness. If she stared into the sky long enough, she could actually spot the black behind the blue.

  “ ‘s the universe,” laughed her little brother when she pointed it out to him.

  “Yeah, sure…” That wasn’t what she meant. Since she could relax about her own past, she had been observing the others. And the older crew slunk about with terrible frowns and stressed eyes. Doc Judith was downright morose about Panama. This stopover in Plymouth wasn’t a holiday. It was Captain, out of plans.

  Urgh! Something had to happen; something had to give. Paean knew that they were dressing the Solar Wind up as someone else, meaning to sneak through the Channel and all the gates. From what she had learnt about satellite identities, the harbour authorities considered them infallible. This did give her hope, because Jon Marsden clearly knew how to reprogram the Solar Wind’s satellite ID. But it wasn’t going to be enough, she knew. Captain knew too, or they’d be on their way by now. He needed more.

  It worried her relentlessly as she went through the drill of dissecting a raw chicken some time later that morning, and sutured it up, a skill a young paramedic had to have, as Doc Judith insisted. Paean wondered vaguely how many chickens got into scrapes on pirate vessels and had to be stitched. And if she’d be stitching the surviving crew after Panama.

  “This is terribly shoddy work,” scolded the Doc. “I can see your mind’s not on it.”

  “I know,” replied Paean with a sigh. “Worried about Panama.”

  “I’d leave the worrying to the strategists,” said the Doc soothingly. She would be in that strategic meeting right now, but she had nothing to bring, today.

  She studied Paean thoughtfully and wondered about three young people who had somehow acquired a lot of learning without attending school. She was intent on finding out how Paean had learnt about Sophokles and Descartes, and in which way her more detailed than average view of history coloured her political perception.

  “Shall I show you how I cloned bioluminescence?” she offered to take Paean’s mind off Panama.

  “Oh yes, please!” Paean was highly excited.

  “It’s really simple,” said the Doc, leaving the remains of the chicken carcass in the galley for Federi to cook for lunch, “it works like a puzzle. Say you have an organism here,” she said, grabbing a writing pad. “Let’s take an Ecoli. And you want it to do something for you. Say, glow in the dark. Bioluminescence. What you do is go look for something that does that naturally. You read up until you find the gene that causes it. That process has been simplified for us by the researchers of the twenty-first century, before the Unicate. They set up huge gene libraries. And Sherman Dougherty rescued those data for the Solar Wind!”

  Paean’s eyes widened. “Sherman was a geneticist?”

  “Sherman was an information technologist,” said the Doc. “He survived the Unicate Takeover. Now he’s a source of knowledge and joy.”

  “How did he come by a gene library?” asked Paean.

  “He predicted which way the wind was blowing and copied down a lot of data from the international files. On all sorts of what they call subversive topics today. All openly available in those days of freed
om, Paean! He kept all those old memory sticks, and drives from those days that can decipher the ancient data. Sherman was right! The Unicate closed access to all that information, first thing after their takeover.”

  Paean listened in shock.

  “Jon Marsden adapted the Solar Wind’s processor so she could access all those ancient files. It’s been invaluable! They knew a lot in those days. Today a few top secret places know it all, and the rest is kept in darkness.”

  “So there’s a lot of stuff I could learn simply off the ship computer,” said Paean, ears hot with excitement.

  “Now focus, Paean,” said the Doc and showed the young girl how to program the Genitron. Genetics, which had once been complicated, had been simplified to extremes by the pre-Unicate scientists and simplified further by Doc Judith and Jon Marsden. The Solar Wind’s processor did a lot of the actual work.

  “I’d like to clone a bug that keeps Panama running to the loo for as long as we’re in the Canal,” said Paean viciously.

  “Paean!” The Doc was shocked.

  “They can’t catch us that way,” said Paean.

  “You never, never ever release a GM organism into the wild,” said the Doc angrily. “The results are completely unpredictable! That’s why genetic research was outlawed.”

  “Well, the Unicate does,” muttered Paean. “Case in point, Annie Donegal!”

  “Well, you won’t!” ordered the Doc.

  “Not even if it only makes them drowsy a few hours?” asked Paean. “Just long enough for us to pass unnoticed?”

  “Laughing gas!” exclaimed the Doc, staring at her. “Paean, you are a genius!” She left the baffled teenager in the lab and hurried off into the strategic meeting she had been bunking.

  Paean stared at the Genitron. And the gene library on the console. She knew she could do it! But she knew too little! Doc had only shown her the rudimentary basics. She paged back to the method on the console screen and read through it. Let’s see if she could get it right alone with the example Doc had just shown her.

  Actually, she suddenly understood, it was really simple! The element of chance, trial and error, had been completely removed from genetic manipulation, as long as one knew exactly what one was looking for. If she could get it programmed correctly on the computer, like Doc Judith would, and then just press the “de novo” button on the little machine… the last step in the chain was to make the information into a ring-shaped plasmid, something the de novo function could be set to do automatically, and shake up the plasmid with an Ecoli of choice…

  “Just for interest’s sake,” she muttered, “Solar Wind, what is an Ecoli?” She typed the word into the console and pressed the look-up function key. “Ecoli – not found! Ecology… all that goes with that… Egoli – Place of Gold,” she read, “central in Southern Free Country! Mined out of gold and uranium in 2064, insignificant mining town survives as largest town in Southern, blah, blah… Oh, well.”

  The “Gold” had drawn her eye. She paged through the gene library.

  “Hey,” said Shawn. “Still down here, sis? You’ll get square eyes! You haven’t been out all day! Going to get all pale and cheesy! Did you sleep in here last night?”

  “This is so intriguing,” muttered Paean, stalling him with a hand. “You should read the console, Shawn. Gee, there’s a lot going on here!”

  “Captain says we can go ashore again,” said Shawn. “The seniors and Federi have decided that it’s okay.”

  “Go ahead without me,” said Paean absentmindedly. “Gosh, Shawn, this stuff is incredible! And look!” She pulled a small stopped-up tube out of the incubator. She blended it gently by turning it upside down a few times. “Switch the light off!”

  Shawn complied. The tube glowed orange in the dark.

  “Bioluminescence,” said Paean. She grinned. “Now check!” She dug back into the incubator and fetched another tube. This one glowed green.

  “The first one’s Doc’s recipe,” said Paean. “This one,” she held up the brighter, green tube, “is mine! What do you say to that, Shawney?”

  “Wow,” said her brother, his face greenish in the light of the tube. “Can you also program one to sing?”

  “Need a lullaby?” laughed Paean. “Go, Brother! You’re disturbing my circles!”

  “Sure you don’t want to come? Wolf’s going to be there!”

  Paean laughed mellowly. “Scoot, brother! Give the old ruffian my regards!”

  “Not in love with him, are you?” teased Shawn.

  Paean laughed again. “If I were, would I be telling you? Be off, wastrel!”

  Shawn went off, worried about the way his sister was suddenly immersing herself in learning. It struck him as unnatural.

  “Woof,” said Paean with another laugh and shook her head. She had to admit, if she thought about it, that the young nuclear engineer did have nice eyes! Green ones. But it took more than eyes…

  “They’ve been docked here for five days now,” said Gina Nevada. “Captain, how long before you contact the forces?”

  “I’m not contacting the forces!” Gomez laughed. “Want to share the prize money with everyone?”

  “You’re beginning to sound like Miller, Captain,” said Gina. “It worries me.”

  “Don’t worry! I only have to cook up a suitable ambush. I’m thinking, for now, let’s collect information. Let’s follow them as far as they can go.”

  “And when they’re cornered at Panama, we take the prize,” said Gina as though she had a logical plan for this.

  “Something like that,” said Gomez. He had parked the T-craft, the “Stab” vessel as civilians called it, in a boathouse out of sight. He and Gina had booked into a hotel and were watching the Solar Wind under plain clothes cover.

  Paean drifted into the Solar Wind’s bilges.

  “Oh, hi,” she said uncertainly.

  Wolf looked up.

  “Hello,” he said shortly and returned his focus to his work. Ailyss was ashore; the young crowd had insisted on taking her along, strongly supported by Federi. Wolf wondered irritably what Federi wanted from Ailyss. And Rushka had actually been allowed to tag along for once. How Federi had got that right, was a mystery. Marsden and Federi both had gone along as supervisors. And Doc Judith was taking a well-deserved rest, after which she wanted to go ashore too. She had been surprised when Paean had declined; but she had put it down to the girl still being afraid of being spotted by the authorities. Here in the free port of Plymouth!

  “Aren’t you going ashore?” asked Paean.

  “Someone’s got to baby-sit these drives,” said Wolf. “Paean, you shouldn’t be down here, there’s classified stuff!”

  “I’m a pirate, Wolf,” said Paean. “There’s honour amongst thieves, so I’m told. Got my own secrets too.”

  A smile lingered in the corner of Wolf’s bearded mouth. He’d heard that line before!

  “Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” he offered.

  “Really?”

  “Paean, despite what you seem to believe – Wolf Svendsson doesn’t lie. That was perhaps my biggest problem, that’s how I ended here. Unicate requires a certain amount of lying. I couldn’t do it.”

  Paean digested this. An honest pirate!

  “We Donegals of Molly Street have always been honest,” she volunteered, making herself comfortable on a metal box. “That’s why it’s difficult…”

  “Don’t sit there!” cautioned Wolf. “If you want your guts slowly grilled from below…”

  “Eww!” Paean slipped off the nuclear drive casing. “That dangerous? Where can I sit?”

  Wolf pointed at a wooden cabinet. Paean cleared herself a space on top of it.

  “Please just don’t scramble those cables,” said Wolf, too late again. He sighed. “Oh well, I’ll just have to do it all again.”

  “Sorry.”

  “So why haven’t you g
one ashore?”

  “That’s what I wanted to ask about,” said Paean. “What’s the plan with Panama?”

  “There isn’t one,” said Wolf. He bent over the console and wrinkled his face.

  Ooh! Wolf Svendsson didn’t lie? Paean knew from the smug way her older brother had been carrying himself that there was some sort of plan. She couldn’t get it squeezed out of Ronan. Well, perhaps it was only part of a plan, she thought; that might explain it.

  “So how are we going to get through?”

  Wolf looked up.

  “Lookie here, Paean. I know you’re the ship’s little candy girl or something, but I haven’t stayed aboard tonight to baby-sit you! Got work to do! Isn’t there someone else whose ears you could talk off their heads?”

  “Thanks,” said Paean and removed herself from the machine room.

  What a horrible character! Nice eyes? Well, you could be a mass murderer and happen to be born with pretty irises! Pretty is who pretty does, thought Paean acidly.

  She padded to the galley, helped herself to a cup of coffee and went back to the lab. No point in practising violin while she was in this mood! With what had she deserved that?

  She’d show them! She was properly peeved now! If there were medals for peeving, Wolf Svendsson had just earned himself one. Little candy girl! Just because she was small and light, and had stopped growing a year or two ago. She was mere months away from legal junior adult status, for the love of luminous tubes! Well, she’d show them that the most dangerous poison came in the smallest containers! Very small in fact… She gazed at the Genitron with a calculating smile. Hemlock by another name.

  On the morning before they set sail for Panama, Federi was on the deck with Wolf and Marsden, lighting fireworks. Shawn and Ronan gathered close excitedly.

  “What are you doing?” asked Shawn.

  Federi smiled brightly.

  “Look!” He handed one of the missiles to the boy. Shawn studied it in detail.

  “Wow, Federi!”

  It was a rum bottle with wings, mounted on a rocket, with a matchstick model of a ship inside it. The ship looked suspiciously like the Solar Wind. Shawn looked closer and saw that “Solar Wind” had been penned in minute letters on one of the matchsticks on the hull.

  The Crow’s Nest looked vaguely electronic.

  “That’s an electronic transmitter,” said Federi. “Now observe!”

  The design of the rocket was conceivably simple. It operated like a firework.

  “Isn’t the heat of the rocket going to ignite the insides of the bottle?” asked Shawn.

  “No. It never gets there. See, the rocket is behind the glass bottle. These wings stabilize the whole thing, let it go nice and far, and when the fuel is up, the last bit lights a fuse, and the fuse lights the material of the wings, and they burn off. The bottle can withstand that! By the time the wings are gone the bottle is at sea level. Wolf has worked it all out, done the strength tests and so on.”

  Shawn stared at Wolf with wide eyes.

  “Wolf is a genius,” he said, awed.

  “And so say all of us,” agreed Federi. “Credit to Marsden too, Shawn, he thought of it all!”

  “And Federi built the little Solar Winds inside the bottles,” completed Marsden.

  “Wow,” said Shawn. “Can I have one?”

  “No,” said Federi. “These are all for a purpose. But I’ll make you another one.”

  “Wow,” said Shawn again. He pointed at the bottle. “Isn’t the glass going to break when it hits the sea surface?”

  “Only if it strikes a young volcanic island springing out of the sea,” quipped Ronan.

  “Nah, don’t worry, the bottles are sturdy,” said Federi. Wolf had done strength tests on various bottles, and they had selected the one brand that would survive such an impact.

  “What are we doing this for?” asked Ronan.

  “Fun and games, amigo,” said Federi with a grin.

  “What if one lands on an island?” asked Shawn.

  Federi laughed. “That should puzzle them!”

  “This is very interesting,” said Gomez, peering through his binoculars. “What are they doing now?”

  “Lighting a whole bunch of fireworks, it seems,” said Gina. “Wow! Look at it go! Wonder why they do it by day! Gosh, doesn’t the thing come down at all?”

  “This is very interesting,” said Shawn, training his binoculars on Gomez. “There’s a man watching us with binoculars!”

  Federi looked up. “That one? Stabilizer! Followed us from Hamilton! Wonder what he and his little girlfriend intend to do against a whole ship full of pirates!”

  “Does Captain know?” asked Shawn.

  “Is the Pope catholic?” Federi asked back.

  “They’ve spotted us,” said Gina.

  “I know,” said Gomez, grinning. “Our presence doesn’t seem to worry them!”

  Gina was worried, though.

  “There you are,” came a voice behind them. Gomez’s heart sank into his shoes. Gina had the urge to flee.

  “Miller,” said Gomez. “I hope you are well recovered?”

  “I see you’re on the job?” said Anya. “I’d better come with you. Knew I’d find the pirates in Plymouth. We’ll corner them in Panama. There’s no conceivable way they’ll get through that Canal!”

  “Where’s Johnny Anyhow?” asked Gomez.

  “Having details seen to,” replied Anya Miller. “How close is the pirate to setting sail?”

  “For now they’re just amusing themselves,” said Gomez. “See there!”

  Anya Miller squinted. “Wonder what the old villain’s up to!”

  10 - Panama

  The Solar Wind had left Plymouth and was sailing on a fair wind, due west to Panama. For three days, at regular intervals, Federi and Marsden lit more missiles and sent them off over the sea. Nagging at the very edge of vision, carefully tracked by Shawn from the Crow’s Nest, followed a weird black tadpole-shaped craft carrying Stefano Gomez, Gina Nevada, and to the distress of both, Anya Miller.

  “Blast this,” said the Captain at some point and asked Dr Jake to activate the fuel cells. The Solar Wind shot forward, out of sight and out of range of the Stab vessel.

  On the fourth day, before the stars had faded in the dawn, a distress signal came from the Solar Wind, just off the coast of Haiti. Instantly the coastal guard was alert. What luck! The pirate ship practically delivering itself into their hands! They started zooming in on the signal.

  Quietly as a whisper, a beautiful royal blue Zephyr by name of Bronberg slipped into the Canal. The control tower checked out the identity via tamper-proof satellite signatures; it was all authentic. Bronberg had clearance for the Canal; she was a legal trading vessel on her way to Adelaide.

  The Unicate had installed this modern system in backwater Panama two decades ago, when a lot of political movement had taken place between the Pacific and New York. Today, in fact, if they hadn’t been expecting the Solar Wind, they wouldn’t even have bothered to man the control towers, which operated automatically.

  The junior operator okayed the system to go ahead, confirming the Tower’s electronic identification with a sigh. This drill had been carrying on for nine days now. It was jolly tiring to sit up here hour after hour confirming identifications that were fireproof anyway!

  He sent a signal through to the other towers of the approach of the blue Bronberg. The first sluice gate opened, letting her in. She began her long wait for the water to rise up to the next level.

  It seemed to Captain Lascek as though they were going to go through the Canal without a hitch. His skills in programming hadn’t let him down yet.

  Quieter even, a porthole opened and a small hand extended out, pouring something into the Canal. De-fluorobacter valeriensis would survive the seawater; but it would actively gravitate towards sweet water, and that in a matter of minutes. All the
hours of reading up had paid off. The little green bug was a masterpiece. Streamlined to perfection, it had a very small genome and only needed about thirty seconds to replicate. All non-essential genes had been deleted. It was covered in flagella that enabled it to swim extremely fast. It had nothing in it that would make people seriously sick. The nth division was abortive, self-limiting the bacterium.

  Off the coast of Cuba, another distress signal started beeping. It seemed to the Cuban Coastal Guard that the Solar Wind, the notorious pirate ship was just offshore and experiencing trouble.

  “Ha!” said Salvatore Rodriguez, Captain of the Day Watch. “Now we’ve got you, old fool!”

  Haiti was experiencing trouble finding the ship. Then the report came that she was lying outside Cuba.

  This was annoying. Haiti sent their coast guard out straight away, along with the Stabs that were already looking. Cuba wouldn’t palm in that reward!

  Tortuga got the next call. By now the coastal watches of three different countries were all getting into each other’s hair trying to locate that blasted ship that seemed to be moving around madly despite its damaged condition.

  And then came a call just east of Cayenne. The Solar Wind seemed to have been moving south, headed for the Cape. And having some difficulties. And another, from the Northern Atlantic, at the height of Jacksonville, heading back towards Hamilton. A signal that caused great excitement amongst the Stab forces in Hamilton.

  More satellite signals came. The authorities were confused and hunting in circles. A whole fleet of Solar Winds seemed to be adrift in the radius of about fifteen hundred sea miles from Montserrat. More than twenty signals riddled the satellite tracking system. Then they all died down. An hour later, Cuba picked up on their original signal again. Then the merry chase began again.

  The Unicate derived that the actual location of the Solar Wind must therefore be at Montserrat, and fine-combed those islands.

  In the first control tower of the Canal, the junior operator fell asleep over his freshly made coffee. It had been a long, boring shift. The first sluice had closed behind the Bronberg, which was now properly locked into a chamber, waiting for the water level to reach the correct height for the second sluice gate to allow her passage.

  Aboard the “Bronberg”, Paean was pacing up and down passageways wearing a terrible frown. With all the brilliance of her plan there was one obvious thing she had overlooked. The Solar Wind derived her drinking water from the sea. As long as none of the crew actually drank any water…

  She drifted into the galley, casting troubled glances out of the starboard porthole.

  Federi was drying dishes, for once not helped by Shawn, who was on lookout duty on the deck. The Romany looked up as she walked in.

  “What’s eating you, my girl?”

  Paean stared uncertainly at the colourful entertainer. A sweet guy; a dicey ally. Would he keep her secret if she told him?

  “Federi, what was the plan with Panama?”

  “Little bird, I can’t tell you. Captain would have my hide.”

  “It’s my life too,” said Paean. “Federi, Lake Gatun is Panama, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I had a dream. Lake Gatun is the end of the world. It’s death.”

  The gypsy with the mauve headscarf full of data cubes and earrings put his drying of plates down. He planted himself in front of her, arms folded, his black eyes boring into hers.

  “You’ve got the sight,” he stated. “Why does it surprise me, actually? Listen, Paean. The plan is that we fight our way out of Panama. Our electronic shield fudges our signals and protects us a bit from the Unicate death bolts. We have torpedoes too. We should have gone around the south, the Cape, but there’s no time…”

  “How do you rate our chances?”

  Federi frowned. “Bad,” he said. “We’re going to die.”

  “And what if…”

  She couldn’t tell him. What if he told Captain? Och, it was hopeless.

  A light appeared in the gypsy’s eyes.

  “What have you done?” he probed with a slight grin in the corner of his mouth.

  “Nothing,” said Paean, rolling her eyes in desperation. She had turned him down once for sharing her secrets. She still didn’t know how good an ally he would have been… but he looked after Shawney, that counted for a lot, and he’d been sweet and concerned with her before… if they were all going to die anyway… “Federi, can I take you up on that Thieves’ Honour thing? For real, now? I need someone who’s on my side…”

  “You’ve really done something,” stated the gypsy in amazement. “Spit it out, girl, let’s see if Federi can help you fix it!”

  “Only…” She petered off.

  “I’ve helped Rushka many times,” said Federi.

  That tipped the balance! “Och, okay! Is there any way you could rig it so nobody drinks any water? Specially not the Captain!”

  Federi’s eyebrows lifted. “You want me feeding them all rum?”

  “No! Just not water, and not anything that gets made with water – coffee for instance…” Her face fell. It had been hopeless from the start. “Oh, blast!” The entire crew of the Solar Wind was addicted to coffee.

  “Cor!” Federi shook his head. “No coffee! Could you explain?”

  She sighed. “Federi, I never finished thinking it through, I thought I had, but now there’s this hole in it…” She told him what she had done.

  His reaction floored her. Federi laughed until tears started down his cheeks.

  “Federi…!”

  He stared at her and packed up laughing again.

  “Oh, you little genius!”

  “What’s so darned funny?” asked Paean, upset.

  Federi sat down on a chair at the Ironwood table, wiping the tears of laughter and relief out of his face with his green flared sleeve. Brilliant, brilliant! Maybe there was not going to be any shoot-out.

  When Plan A had consisted of a showdown of firepower, Federi had known that his Captain was out of plans. An unbelievable risk; the Solar Wind against a fleet of Unicate.

  Captain had tried to avoid it. But the active way in which the Unicate hunted them now made going around the Cape no safer. They would have had to field battle after battle all the way down South America’s eastern coastline. It was like Lascek to risk everything in one single, highly dicey manoeuvre, hoping to break through fast, rather than face ten potential battles in locations they couldn’t predict.

  But Federi knew. Based on stealth alone they would not make it. He had seen it. Lake Gatun was swarming with Stabilizers, just like Hamilton Harbour had been. They would not be conned by the Zephyr being blue and having taken down the Crow’s Nest. They would send shockwaves first and sort everything else second. And when the Solar Wind submerged, which she was definitely going to do to get away, they would have their suspicions confirmed beyond any doubt.

  Unless they were all asleep. The little genius had just given them their lives back!

  He glanced up at the girl’s shocked face, grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto a chair too.

  “You are a brilliant star, little luv,” he told her. “Got to tell Captain right away.”

  “Aargh!”

  That beaten, betrayed look on her face! And right after she had saved all their hides and given them a fighting chance! He couldn’t leave it like that, even if it cost him precious time.

  Federi pulled something lime-green out of his pocket and unravelled it with quick fingers. Paean watched his prestidigitation, mesmerized.

  “Paean, welcome aboard! You’re a real pirate now!”

  “What?!”

  “Because there’s not a pirate aboard this ship who hasn’t breached the law in the name of survival – or treasure.”

  “Och Federi – you’re just saying that to make me feel better!”

  Federi solemnly s
hook his head. “Take me, for instance!”

  “Take you?”

  “Bin in deep water so often I’ve lost count,” said Federi. “Mostly for treasure. Last time for survival, you saw that one… Come here!”

  The fluorescent green thing in his hand turned into a scrap of material; he tied it around her head, gypsy-style. To her dismay it was also covered in stolen spangles.

  “Aargh!” said Paean. “Now I can be an eyesore too!”

  “You see?” smiled Federi, looking mightily proud. “Now you’re a real pirate too.” He nodded, satisfied. “And now we tell Captain.”

  “No!”

  This was serious. She hadn’t understood. Federi took her hand in his and caught her eyes.

  “Little luv, see here. I got two questions concerning the bug itself. Firstly, is it dangerous?”

  “No,” said Paean. “I’ve taken all the dangerous genes out. It only carries the sedative from the Valerian plant.”

  “You know your herbs,” commented Federi. “Second question. Does it work?”

  “I haven’t tested it as such, not on anybody,” said Paean. “I don’t really know.”

  “Okay. So you release a GMO into the sea. Did you consider that it could mutate?”

  “Yes,” said Paean, “but I’ve made it self-limiting. The nth division is abortive and kills both daughter cells.”

  “Beautiful,” smiled Federi. “Sleek, small, dangerous. Does it also have red hair?”

  Now Paean had to laugh.

  “It has flagella, it can swim,” she said.

  “What does it eat?”

  “Are you joking? We’re in Panama!”

  Federi grinned. “Oh, yes. Paean, listen. How old are you?”

  “Going on sixteen,” said Paean.

  “Nearly an adult,” agreed Federi. “Atenţie. Nuclear physics and Unicate shoot-outs and genetic engineering – those are all adult games. Why? Because they are dangerous. Not just for yourself but everyone around you. You want to be an adult, you’ll also have to learn to carry the consequences. What you have done was very daring, and I think you’ve saved our lives. But you got to tell Captain! If you don’t, it could go badly wrong!”

  She stared at him, frightened. She had understood.

  “Federi – can’t you rather…”

  “No,” said Federi. “That would be playing outside the rules. Got to do it yourself, young woman! Do you believe for a moment Federi would spill your secrets to anyone – even the Captain?”

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “Of course not! Paean, that’s sacred ground. People who do that don’t deserve friends.”

  Paean sighed.

  “Och, alright. What the hell. In for a penny…”

  “That’s my girl!” said Federi proudly. “I’ll go with you. Federi shall protect you!”

  He studied his masterpiece. The green certainly complemented her skin tone. And she did look becoming covered in stolen treasure.

  The first control tower operator was asleep. The others only had to see that nothing unusual occurred.

  For nine days and nights, nothing unusual had been occurring all the time. It was a boring process. The radio operators who had been temporarily employed for this felt abused. After all, the electronics did all the identifying anyway. No one could hope to sidestep that system. The past sixty ships had confirmed their opinions.

  “Blue Zephyr with no Crow’s Nest passing through, and two American yachts,” yawned a colleague a bit further down the Canal, looking at the image of the Solar Wind on the side screen and comparing. The irony was that the Solar Wind on the image carried the name “Santa Marguerita”. He had checked by zooming all the way in.

  He yawned. These early mornings were the worst… His head sank onto his arm. His mouth dropped open as he began to snore. Perhaps a more exciting job would have kept him awake at this moment.

  “A moment, Captain?”

  Captain Radomir Lascek turned from the console where he was analysing the sluice gates with Rushka, to look at the colourful rogue. The Romany had Paean Donegal in tow, with a hair-raisingly green head covering that contrasted fiercely with her flaming red hair. Punch and Judy? What was going on here?

  “Federi, you know this is no time for comedy.”

  “Not comedy, Captain. An interesting development.” Federi pushed Paean forward. “Speak, little hummingbird!”

  Paean stared at the Captain, terrified. He studied her. How much did she guess? Did she understand that he was sailing his crew straight into hell?

  “Make it short,” snapped Lascek.

  Paean swallowed.

  “Captain, I’ve released a bio-engineered bacterium into the harbour. It puts everyone to sleep who drinks water.”

  “What?!”

  “Or coffee,” she added.

  Radomir Lascek gaped at her, rattled. It took him several moments to assess the whole situation. Did that bacterium actually work? Federi looked as though he thought it would! And the Romany had a pretty fine sensor for such things.

  This might turn out disastrous! But it might also be exactly what they needed. What a brazen little wildcat! And then that forsaken green lighthouse she was wearing…

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done, girl?”

  Paean stood silent, petrified.

  “Go tell everyone,” thundered the Captain. “They must not drink any water or coffee or anything else! Call a meeting! In the boardroom! Federi, empty the reservoirs! Get Wolf on the job to help you! Snap to it! If we fall asleep, that’s it!”

  “Yes, Captain,” whispered Paean and turned tail and ran. She jingled as she bolted. The Captain and Rushka stared after her.

  “We’re not asleep,” said Federi. “She’s given us the edge. If enough Unicate forces fall asleep… even if they just get drowsy…”

  “Get on with it!” bellowed Lascek. “Empty the reservoirs! And Federi –“

  The gypsy was already halfway out the door, but he stopped short.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Keep an eye on her! Donegal Black Magic! Hemlock! That girl is dangerous!”

  “Yes, Captain.” Federi vanished from the doorway.

  Rushka and Radomir Lascek exchanged a glance.

  “Especially with that glow-in-the-dark headscarf,” added Rushka, and they both exploded in peals of laughter.

  “She deserves a medal,” exclaimed Lascek, catching his breath. “What a head start! No wonder the towers have been so placid!”

  “Still insubordinate,” Rushka pointed out. “She should have cleared it.”

  “Right. She’s a fully qualified pirate. We’ll have to watch her carefully.”

  As it turned out, only about half the crew was up and chirpy. The rest had already had their coffee. To Paean’s intense relief, Dr Judith had had coffee too. There was another confrontation she dreaded.

  Paean called the meeting, and Captain informed them that nobody was to drink anything that was made with drinking water.

  “This might turn out to our favour,” said Lascek seriously. “If we need to mask suddenly, we need not worry about the sleeping crew!”

  Rushka disappeared suddenly from the boardroom.

  “It poses a real problem though,” continued the Captain. “How are we going to get through the sluice gates if the operators are asleep? Have you thought of that, Miss Donegal?”

  Miss Donegal had hardly any shade left to go paler to. Her complexion almost exactly matched her scarf. She shook her head mutely, her treasure beads jingling softly.

  “A suggestion, Captain,” Federi spoke up. He was leaning against the wall of the boardroom, arms folded, mainly observing and feeling ill at ease. He suspected that Captain held him responsible for the wild idea of the Irish girl. Only because he had backed Paean a bit. He had to deflect the entire situation, and fast. “If one of the gates get
s stuck, Shawn and I will go ashore, get into the control towers and open it.”

  Shawn nodded enthusiastically. He was highly delighted with his sister’s coup. He couldn’t wait to get a turn at input, too.

  Radomir Lascek frowned. “And if you get caught?”

  “We won’t, Captain.”

  The Captain’s eyes narrowed. Federi had a point. Federi never got caught. And if he did, he got away. It was the definition of who he was: The one that got away. It was good luck having him on the Solar Wind.

  He wouldn’t let them catch the boy, either. This idea was quite safe. In any case, thought Lascek wryly, the point was not gates getting stuck. He and Marsden had hacked into their control mechanisms and could override them from the Solar Wind if they needed to; Federi wasn’t even aware of this. The point was teaching Paean Donegal consequential thinking!

  “Very well, Federi,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Do what you have to!”

  Paean‘s timing was perfect: It was still so early in the morning that people reached for something to drink either as they surfaced, or in order to stay awake the last hour of a long shift. The bacterium spread down the Canal; helped along by four further dosages by Paean’s hand, on Captain’s direct orders. As they passed through the Canal, the morning wore on. The automatic system worked beautifully, even better without the manual interference of control-tower operators. To Shawn’s disappointment, not a single gate got stuck.

  “How long is this thing now going to spread around the world, sis?” asked Shawn.

  “It’s got a self-destruct built in after 24 hours,” she replied. “The nth division is abortive, so each strain self-terminates as it reaches that division. That is, unless there is a mutation.”

  “What happens then?”

  “Who knows!” She shuddered. “Anything’s possible. But luckily nearly all mutations result in cell death. So they’re self-limiting. So the chances are actually quite low that one survives. – Then again, there are a great many cells out there, oh boy… actually the chances are quite good!” She thought about it some more. “On the other hand – they do have that self-destruct built in, so there would have to be at least two viable mutations for it to be dangerous – one mutation would have to be specifically the disabling of the terminate-switch. And they’d have to happen this side of the 24 hours. So I’d say –” she did some fast multiplications in her head. “The chances are – just about – one.”

  ”One out of a hundred?” asked Shawn.

  “No. One. Out of one.”

  Shawn took a second to digest this. “Hoo boy! I can see why it’s illegal! And how long are they going to snooze?”

  “Well, at least three hours after taking in the valeriensis. But when they wake up they may just self-dose again, because they’ll be thirsty…”

  Shawn laughed. “Brilliant, sis! And if there’s a mutation disabling only the self-destruct – and the same bacterium just carries on and doesn’t stop? Does Panama sleep for 100 years?”

  “I hope not,” muttered Paean, not finding her brother’s questions particularly funny.

  On the deck, Federi unpacked his stock of Coca-cola, straight out of the boxes in his storage area.

  “Hope everyone likes this. I’ve also got Raspberry – ohmigod, and greengage – oh boy! Who packed these? – Hlabane!” He shook his head. “The pirates aboard Captain Ali’s ship have a kindergarten palate!”

  “How about ale, you stingy fiend?” suggested Wolf.

  “We’re not out of danger yet, Svendsson. Let’s first get to the Pacific, and then we celebrate! Meanwhile you can have ginger ale.”

  Wolf growled.

  Aboard the T576, Captain Gomez was wishing he’d left what was well enough in Plymouth. That Anya Miller was a right pain in the neck.

  “They’re going to go through the Canal, I’m telling you!” She was nagging. “These distress signals are decoys! I know the pirate!”

  “Personally?” Captain Gomez couldn’t stop himself from asking. He really didn’t want to know; but anything to rile this obnoxious female was a good thing to say. He wished she hadn’t found him in Plymouth! What pleasure it would have been to follow the pirate to Panama just with little Gina.

  Of course the distress calls were decoys! Out of sheer curiosity, for having his suspicion confirmed, he zoomed in on one of them that was coming from close to the entrance of Panama. It wasn’t easy; there were intervals when the dratted thing would stop sending any signal and he had to continue the course on hunches. But eventually he was right on top of the signal, and he found – nothing!

  “Something is making those signals,” insisted Gina.

  “All I see is a bit of rubbish floating about,” said the Miller.

  Gomez looked again.

  “That’s not rubbish!”

  Gina opened the hatch and fished the bottle out of the sea. They looked at it in detail. They marvelled at the minute matchstick Solar Wind inside it, complete with Crow’s Nest and almost-mermaid figurehead.

  “Awesome,” said Gina.

  “Awful,” corrected Anya’s loud voice. “Awfully dumb to fall for this! Just listen to me! Lascek is going through the Canal! So are we going to waste more time drifting around aimlessly?”

  “No, no, Miller,” said Gomez tiredly. “Of course Lascek is in the Canal! Do you believe for a moment that he’ll actually get through it? How do you envision that?”

  “He does! He will!” How could she explain that nothing was impossible to Radomir Lascek? It was this trait that made him so dangerous!

  They headed towards Panama.

  Some time later, Gomez muttered, “This is strange!”

  “What is?”

  “Our people manning the control towers aren’t responding!”

  “I told you! He’s killed them all!”

  “Come now! How can he have killed an entire city?” asked Gomez, eyeing the shore which was suspiciously devoid of movement.

  “I told you! He always finds a way!”

  The First Mate had taken flight to the galleyette. She re-emerged now with a tray of coffees.

  “Great idea, thank you, Gina!” said Gomez and accepted a cup, putting it down distractedly. Whether or not the control towers responded, the automatics should kick into action any moment now. After all, this was a Unicate craft; that meant automatic clearance everywhere. And then they’d see how far Lascek had made it into the Canal.

  Anya took a cup of coffee as well, sipping it in frustration.

  My, it had been a long chase! The weariness of all the past days suddenly descended on her. This coffee had a melancholy taste, reminding her of home and her teen years…

  With a sigh she put her coffee down and took a chair.

  “Sometimes it feels so pointless…” she sighed before she fell asleep.

  Gomez and Gina looked at each other, then at Miller’s cup.

  “Clever girl,” said Gomez. “What have you put in there?”

  “Nnnnn…” denied Gina, sank down to the floor and nodded off.

  “You’re beautiful when you’re asleep,” Gomez complimented his First Mate. He glared at his coffee cup. He wasn’t going to sip that dangerous stuff. Clearly it had some sort of drug in it, although it had nothing to do with Gina, or she wouldn’t have drunk any herself. Gomez wondered. It was a long shot, but…

  Suddenly he understood what was happening in Panama. He started laughing. He laughed so loudly he nearly hurt himself.

  “Old fox,” he laughed. He took a subconscious sip from his cup. Realized it. Looked at the cup.

  “Oh, bug…”

  11

  11 - Lake Gatun

  “I only have half of my crew, Paean Donegal!”

  They were gathered in another emergency meeting, on the bridge. The Gatun Locks had gone smoothly; they were in the last chamber, and the gates would open soon. The water level was stil
l rising, regulated by the sluices. The bad part was that they couldn’t see through the sluice gate what was awaiting them in Lake Gatun.

  The Solar Wind had crossed through the Panama strait many times; Radomir Lascek could navigate the sea bridge backwards with his eyes closed. The nuclear wars of the sixties, at the time of the Unicate takeover, had destroyed most of the Canal. It had been painstakingly rebuilt, all but the parts through Lake Gatun, which were considered less necessary. The Lake was a natural body of water. The nuclear bombs had blasted sinkholes into the lake in places, lowering the bottom at erratic intervals. With the increased ocean levels and the warmer climate of those days, great torrential rains had swept the beleaguered Panama, and the Lake’s levels had risen significantly, nearly submerging the island in the lake. Though this was decades in the past, the lake’s levels hadn’t at any point sunk low enough again for Panama to take action. Ships could still pass comfortably.

  Traders such as Captain Ali trod a fine line though. Many illegal vessels had contacts inside the Panamanian Unicate, bribing their way, usually by offering favours or bits of their merchandise. The Unicate kept a half-awake eye on such dealings. When it suited them, they suddenly sprung a trap on such an illegal trader. Usually not on his associates though, as they tended to provide leads to further pirates.

  Possibly, nothing waited in ambush for the Solar Wind. Alternatively, if Federi’s hunches were anything to go by, a hefty Unicate fleet. How far had the green bug got? Lascek had ordered Federi to find that pesky Donegal girl and bring her to the bridge.

  “How fast can you multiply that green nonsense-bug?” asked Lascek.

  Paean relaxed a bit. She had expected another ruffle.

  “The problem is more of slowing the multiplication down, Captain,” she said.

  “How fast can you make a volume that would fill – say – a Spiffy bag?”

  A small sandwich-bag that sealed. “Ten minutes, Captain.”

  “Get started!” ordered the Captain. “Federi, call Wolf. Bit of engineering there.”

  The water was still gushing from the sluices into the chamber when five missiles were launched from the deck of the Solar Wind. Five Spiffy bags filled with teeming green bacteria, spinning their flagella in eagerness to get their furry little bodies into the lake. The bags broke as they hit the water surface, and their gooey contents spread out. It was good enough. They had quite a bit of time from here. It would take another half-hour for this gate to open.

  Paean returned to the boardroom, where the remaining crew sat discussing their options. She glanced at them. Shawn was awake and chirpy; so was Wolf – the lout! Luckily, Dr Jake and Marsden as well. And that was all. Captain was on the bridge with Rushka; Federi was out on the deck, checking the functioning of something.

  Wolf, Marsden and Federi had had an interesting time carrying all the sleeping crew members to their bunks. The Doc had fallen asleep in the lab over an article she was reading onscreen. A complicated, scientific article – who could blame her! Ailyss in the machine room, watching the drives. Ronan and Rhine Gold in the blond giant’s cabin where they had been playing a game of cards. Must have been a bit of a slow game. Old Sherman had sipped his coffee on his graveyard shift on the bridge. He had been the first the Captain had come across, not being in a position to explain it at the time. Lascek had first thought that he should stop relying on the centenarian for a full shift. He’d had a bad conscience. Old Sherman was so resilient and brave, one forgot his advanced age.

  Of course, the moment he had the full picture, his guilt had transformed into anger at Paean. How dare she cause him to feel guilty about a standard procedure on the ship!

  He appeared in the boardroom’s doorway now, scanning his scant remaining crew. Rushka was holding the bridge; he couldn’t leave her alone for long now, as the sports were about to start.

  Federi entered the boardroom just behind him.

  “It’s all set, Captain.”

  “Good. Tune in the cameras. We’re sealing now; it can be hoped that the lake is still deep enough to submerge.”

  “Will do, Captain.” Federi moved off to the bridge.

  “You,” the Captain snapped at Paean. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before you released it? We could have kept everyone awake!”

  “Captain, I –” Paean swallowed, hot panic in her stomach. “I was doing this against Doc Judith’s wishes!”

  “What!” Lascek was genuinely angry now. Breaching orders from a senior crewmember!

  “I’m sorry,” peeped Paean.

  “You had better stay under supervision for now,” commanded Lascek. “Stay close!”

  “Yes, Captain!” She wished she could rather stay far, far away.

  “Captain,” came Federi’s voice on the Captain’s wrist-com, “the gate is opening.”

  “On my way, Federi.” The Captain beckoned to Marsden, and the two headed for the bridge. Paean obediently tagged after.

  Wolf and Dr Jake left for the machine room. Shawn moved to follow them; Wolf turned and forbade him. Shawn stayed behind indecisively; all alone in the boardroom. He toggled after all the people who headed for the bridge.

  “There!”

  A vast expanse of blue water became visible through the opening gates. And with it, a host of gleaming black T-craft, Stabilizers, like volcanic sand grains on a mirror. All lying in wait for the Solar Wind.

  “The Canal is too shallow to submerge,” growled Lascek. “Have to move out into the Lake, right into their range!”

  An electric shockwave frizzed through the ship. The screens jumped for a split second and stabilized again. The electronic shield held up. The Captain activated the sequence for the rigging folding up, even before they were out of the last shattered remnant of the old Canal.

  It was as Federi had predicted. The Unicate was sending in shockwaves first and sorting the details later. Couldn’t the Tzigan have predicted plain sailing instead?

  “They’re not asleep,” said Lascek scathingly. He glanced at Paean and Shawn. “Rushka, could you take the nursery school down to the galley please and give them something to do? The bridge is overcrowded!”

  “Yes, Captain!”

  “Some of them are asleep,” said Federi quietly as only five of the thirty-something Stab vessels converged on the Solar Wind. “Most of them!”

  “Lake not deep enough here,” muttered Lascek. “Dr Jake! Nuclear drives! We need the speed!”

  The ship lurched forward into the lake.

  “Captain, they’re closing in faster than we can submerge,” stressed Federi.

  “I can see that! We’ll ram them out of the way.”

  “Wonder if the Solar Wind can handle that,” commented Jon Marsden. “Compounding hull like hers!”

  He leaned over the Captain’s shoulder and hammered a sequence. One of the nuclear drives ignited the torpedo that had been on its way to the Solar Wind before it could reach her.

  “Sheesh,” said Federi, pale as chalk under his horrible headscarf.

  “I’m scared,” said Paean, in the galley. “I thought they’d have fallen asleep too!”

  “Only the ones who had something to drink,” Shawn pointed out. He headed straight for the starboard porthole. Paean followed suit. Rushka stared through the opposite one.

  “Can’t we force them to drink something?” asked Paean.

  “Look, sis,” said Shawn. “It did lame most of the force! Oh no!” This last comment at the water level rising past the portholes. The Solar Wind was submerging.

  “This is worse!” Paean watched in horror how a flame leapt out from the Solar Wind and fried a torpedo, and the whole ship rocked with the shockwaves of the explosion. Another high-voltage attack zinged through the equipment and their heads.

  Rushka keyed some variables into the microwave’s console with flying fingers. The microwave screen became a radar screen.<
br />
  “There,” she pointed out, “another torpedo!”

  The Solar Wind lurched forward, shooting and blasting at the five Stab vessels. One stopped moving. A rare species of water bug surfaced carefully out of the murky water of Lake Gatun and had a good look around.

  “That’s better,” growled Lascek as a complete picture of the positions of the Stab vessels appeared on the console screen, sent back by his bug. “Can finally see them clearly!”

  “Target practice,” grinned Marsden. “Our turn!”

  He launched a torpedo at the nearest T-craft, aiming for the rudder. The round Stab vessels looked different from down here. From above, they had resembled floating black eggs with squat, square-ish tails. From below, the deep, blade-like triangular keel was clearly visible, half of which was rudder.

  Marsden’s aim was good. The rudder broke off the T-craft with the torpedo’s impact. The solid little craft leapt out of the water; but it was heavily plated. Even a frontal impact might not have damaged it enough to sink it.

  “Blasted Unicate!” Lascek was raging. “Those are good young men and women aboard those boats! Throwing them into the fire like that!”

  “Always hits the innocents,” commented Federi, keeping the visual sensors trained on the enemy craft. The Solar Wind was submerged now; some of the screens showed the surrounding T-craft from below, and one – the periscope – located the enemy from just above the water, giving just that little bit extra visibility.

  “You’re right, Federi,” said Lascek thoughtfully, studying those screens. “There are only four moving now. That green bug has done a lot!”

  “Three now,” said Federi as Marsden’s next torpedo hit its target. More electric shockwaves fizzed across the screens.

  “Hells, if that damages our processor!”

  Dr Jake and Wolf in the machine room were fully occupied too; they could have done with Ailyss helping. Dr Jake directed the drives, and Wolf shot nuclear blasts at any torpedoes that approached the Solar Wind.

  There was a jolt. They were hit. The Solar Wind’s alarms went off. Rhine Gold and Ronan woke up groggily.

  Another shockwave zinged through the systems. This time the lights dipped.

  “Surface!” The Captain hit the sequence just as Rushka came storming onto the bridge with eyes wide. “Back to your post, Rushka. Round up whatever Donegal Troubles you can and find that leak!”

  “Two more Stabs, Captain,” said Marsden. “If we can keep her down about six more seconds…” He released one torpedo while he was speaking and searched for the last T-craft. Federi helped by paging through the different camera views at high speed. Another electric shock ran through the ship.

  “Can’t, Jon,” said Lascek darkly and surfaced the Solar Wind. “We’ll drown!”

  The safety catches released and the masts stretched out. A last huge shockwave rolled across the ship, and all the lights went out just as the rigging fanned out.

  Paean, Shawn and Rushka had found the leak. It was in Wolf’s cabin. As the Solar Wind surfaced, much of the water that had been gushing in began to recede. A lot of it also ran down the passage into the bilges, where Wolf and Dr Jake cursed and swore at the way everything had gone dark. Now their shoes were getting wet too! They knew what that meant for everything in the machine room. Dr Jake hoped fervently that the Captain was surfacing the ship.

  Dark was not entirely dark anymore though. It took the eye a few moments to adjust; but soft orange bioluminescence in jelly glowed in jam jars that had been mounted to the walls. Federi had done this while they had been stalling in Plymouth. He had decided that a teen crew like theirs was tough to keep under control in the pitch dark when they submerged; besides, it was high time that Doc’s sweet little creation got put to daily use! It was one of Paean’s tasks to feed the glow-bacteria. By the dim light of these, Wolf and Dr Jake began to assess the damage.

  The fuel drives were still active; they had to be operated manually now. The nuclear drives did what they were designed to do in such an event: They were shutting themselves down, with safety mechanisms quenching the reaction. It would take time to get them restarted. But first, the processor would have to be checked, and repaired if necessary. Dr Jake hoped that the Captain had been in time to release the safety catches – or they’d be as marooned as that Anya Miller outside of Hamilton.

  Marsden and Federi were out on the deck. The last T-craft was pursuing them relentlessly. Marsden handed Federi his long-range rifle.

  “Time, my friend?”

  “These are innocents, Jon,” replied Federi. “Not their fault they’re employed by crooks!” He disappeared below the deck and re-emerged, carrying two airguns, giving one to Marsden.

  “And what now?” Marsden had a close-up look at the guns and the ammunition. His eyebrows shot sky-high, and he laughed. “My word, Tzigan, have you been busy these three hours!”

  Federi grinned. “Five minutes, my friend. Didn’t take long.”

  A grappling hook shot out from the T-craft. It caught on the Solar Wind’s rail.

  “They’re darned well going to damage the ship!” growled Federi. He leopard-crawled at top speed towards the hook, freed the heavy polyramic structure from the rail and hooked it onto the nearest cleat.

  “What the hell are you doing, Federi?”

  “Play along!” hissed Federi. “We don’t want to get hurt!”

  Marsden reflected briefly what luck it was to be the best friend of the one who got away. He followed Federi’s example. Both lunged to the deck in the storage area, hiding behind crates of food. They waited, guns ready. The Captain watched this manoeuvre from the bridge. Federi gave him a thumbs-up. Everything under control.

  “How many are we expecting?” he asked his friend.

  Marsden trained his handgun on the rope that connected the grappling hook to the Stabilizer.

  “Don’t shoot that!” interfered Federi. “We want them to step aboard! Ah, there they come!”

  A young officer, smart in his Marine uniform, came up the ladder and looked around. Federi waited until he was well on the deck and shot.

  The man crumpled, a surprised look on his face. The woman behind him emerged, brandishing a stun gun. She followed suit. Marsden and Federi waited for more. None were forthcoming.

  “Only two?” asked Federi, surprised.

  “These T-craft aren’t particularly big,” replied Marsden. “There are bunks for four, but the Navy prefers to man them sparsely and rather use more craft. More fire power. Makes sense.”

  Federi nodded and retrieved the tiny syringes he had looted from Doc Judith’s supplies, and cut to shape to fit into the air guns. They had delivered their little green payload. Now that he knew of Paean’s brilliant bit of piracy, he’d invest in dart guns. Being a pirate had just become a lot more fun!

  Marsden helped Federi tie the two marines up. They scanned the lake. None of the Stab vessels moved. Those who had been immobilized by Marsden’s torpedoes had been left behind out of range; those who had had coffee, were in any case out for the count.

  “I know this one,” said Marsden. “He turned down an offer to become a pirate.”

  “Yup,” said Federi. “Johnny Anyhow. Anya Miller’s Second.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’d say he has potential, but he’ll need some work.”

  “For one,” said Marsden, “we’ll have to teach him to drink coffee!”

  “Don’t say that c-word!” protested Federi. “I’ve got withdrawal symptoms!”

  The Captain emerged from the bridge.

  “Good work, all of you! We can cross the lake now, I think! Are any of those lazy louts awake yet?”

  “I’ll see whom I can round up, Captain,” said Federi. “I’ll make them some coffee.”

  “Tzigan! Watch your step!”

  “Yes, Captain,” grinned Federi. Clearly the Captain was suffering too!

  �
�And if you see that little green bandit, do tell her to report to the bridge,” added Lascek.

  “Yes, Captain.” Federi went on his way. Poor little Paean!

  The last leg of the crossing was Panama City itself. There was another series of automatic sluice gates, and more Unicate waiting for them, no doubt. Lascek called Federi and Marsden into a meeting on the bridge. Paean was present too, awaiting orders. The leak in Wolf’s cabin was not yet completely repaired, but there were others taking care of that. The passage through Panama was becoming a harrowing experience for her.

  Radomir Lascek looked back over his shoulder at the little green light-bringer, from overriding the first of the Pedro Miguel Locks.

  “Miss Donegal, get back on a pack with Wolf Svendsson and make us more Spiffy bombs.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Waiting for the water level to sink in the first chamber, the Solar Wind launched several more small missiles into the Canal at Panama City, the Pacific end. They released their payload into the water system of the Capital.

  “Now we wait,” said Lascek over the ship com, stretching and leaning back, hands behind head. “Take a break, sailors! But remember – no coffee!”

  “This is getting tedious,” growled Federi in the galley. He’d start chewing coffee beans if he couldn’t have his dosage soon!

  Eventually the sluice gates opened one by one, over an hour, as the hydraulic Canal system did its work. From thirty-three feet above the current sea level, the Solar Wind descended the steps down into the Miraflores Locks.

  It was the strangest event the city had experienced in recorded history. Like in a fairy-tale, Panama fell asleep. It was lucky that the tropical city was not really awake at that hot, drowsy hour anyway. It was a rather extended siesta.

  Doc Judith surfaced and was informed by the Captain. She was so taken aback, she failed to deal with it at all. She had to admit that she felt wonderfully rested.

  Wolf and Dr Jake began the repair to the processor. Not everything had been levelled. Dr Jake’s shield, though not yet powerful enough, had done a lot to protect the electronics from that last lethal wave.

  “We’ll have to get components in Panama City,” said Dr Jake. “Five of her infra-lateral pointsel orbitors are gone. And two PUPSs.”

  “Go ashore? You can’t be serious, doctor?”

  “Well,” smiled the nuclear scientist, “we can always send Federi to steal them for us!”

  Though the remaining Unicate forces in Panama were alert to the Solar Wind being in Lake Gatun, on last report she had been hit by a torpedo while submerged. The last shockwave had been reported to blow out her electronics, having got past that mysterious shield she seemed to have against such electric assault. If it had erased the ship’s electronics, the calculations were that the crew had to be stunned too, if not dead. Johnny Anyhow had reported that they were boarding her and bringing her in. All was in hand.

  Teatime for the Navy.

  “Now,” said Lascek. He engaged the intercom, which was up and running again. “Dr Jake, all ready?”

  “Mostly, Captain. We’ll get through to the Pacific on what we’ve got.”

  “And the fire power?”

  “We’ve lost the nuclear drives for now, Captain, but the torpedoes are ready.”

  “It will just have to be good enough. Set sail,” decided Lascek. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The smaller and noisier of the two motorboats, the Lawnmower, cast off from the Solar Wind, carrying Federi and Marsden, and two unconscious Unicate marines. They unloaded the two sleeping officers onto the quay.

  Federi stayed behind on the dock.

  “Sure you guys can spare me?”

  “Federi, I’m not happy about it,” replied Marsden. “Having you aboard is a necessity. We’ll pick you up in an hour.”

  “If the Unicate captures you guys, I’ll rescue you,” promised Federi.

  “Course you will,” smiled Marsden. “Go well now, Tzigan. Good luck!”

  “You too,” said Federi. “Kathal.”

  Marsden’s gaze followed him. Within seconds, the gypsy had disappeared, merging into Panama’s shops and streets like a rogue colour into a rainbow.

  Still life of a sleeping city. Shawn watched in fascination from the rigging, where he was on lookout duty. Tourists sleeping at wharf-side café tables. Single motor vehicles moving along the empty streets, those deviants that refused to hold siesta or take lunch. Shops standing open, unattended, the assistants out for lunch. So were the shoplifters, clearly. There were Unicate ships in the Canal, amongst traders; but they showed no response.

  “There’s Federi,” shouted Shawn. The gypsy was on the wharf, waving wildly. The Solar Wind slowed; Jon Marsden mobilized the Lawnmower a second time and picked him up from the dockside.

  “If Shawn hadn’t seen you?” he asked, tongue in cheek.

  “Jon, I’ve got my wrist-com,” laughed Federi.

  “Has the electric shockwave not wiped yours?”

  Federi checked. “Fry me, it has! Got to ask Wolf to fix it.”

  “So what would you have done?”

  The gypsy bared his white teeth. His eyes narrowed. He peered over the Canal.

  “With all these speedboats on sale?” he asked. “Are you joking?”

  Once back aboard, Federi headed for the bilges.

  “As specified, Doc!” He emptied his bag of loot out onto the cabinet. “Are these the right ones? I could go again.”

  “No, they’re perfect,” said Dr Jake, smiling appreciatively. Federi had secured the very newest kind of pointsel orbitors. They were a lot more powerful than the old ones.

  “Great,” said Federi and left for the main deck.

  “Is that the Pacific out there?” came Shawn’s call from the rigging. “Ocean ahoy!!”

  The Solar Wind was suddenly out on the open sea.

  “We did it!” A cheer went up from the ship. The entire crew, with the exception of Ailyss who was still asleep, and Dr Jake in the machine room and the Captain on the bridge, was out on the deck. Federi brought out bottles of champagne and uncorked them with a lot of splashy mess.

  “Here’s to the Bronberg,” he announced loudly. “Here’s to our undemocratic, dare-devil Captain, and to our cannoniers, Marsden and Wolf, and here’s to our hero – Paean!”

  The little green pirate glowed over her whole face.

  “Why are you a hero?” asked Rhine Gold, puzzled. “And why are you wearing that green thing on your head?”

  “Aw,” said Paean with an embarrassed grin. “ ‘s a long story!”

  12 - Storm

  The open sea awaited. Panama slept behind them.

  The Solar Wind was restored to herself. Ronan and Rhine Gold, under Federi’s direction, washed the blue neo-transpoxy paint off her hull by pouring biodegradable soapy water over – the sea would do the rest. Marsden reinstalled the original identity chip. Radomir Lascek added the latest transgression to the ship log with pride, describing Panama as “an amazingly sleepy town with incalculable opportunity for those who know how to look”. Shawn, Federi, Ronan and Rhine Gold rebuilt the Crow’s Nest back into the rigging. Jonathan Marsden clambered about with a voltmeter checking the reconnected wires and sensors. Every last Crow’s Nest signal was tested to make sure it was all fully functional again.

  The moment he got the thumbs-up for it, Shawn climbed into the Crow’s Nest and played a tune on his clay whistle. Ronan joined in on his tin whistle, hooking his elbows around the ropes of the rigging.

  It was their first taste of real freedom in seven months.

  Radomir Lascek watched from the bridge. He felt so good about the won battle, he wished he could arrange it more often!

  Next to him, Sherman Dougherty swore softly. Radomir Lascek glanced down.

  “Making progress?”

  “Wish I’d started on that earlier,” g
rowled Sherman. “Some very sinister stuff coming out of here! But it’s clearly missing a whole part. I can decrypt every tenth word or so, and that’s on guesswork.” He bared his tobacco-stained teeth. “Maybe we should have hung onto Johnny Anyhow as a hostage!”

  “That bad?”

  “Look there, Radomir.”

  The Captain bent down over the console, studying what his veteran had been able to pull out of Anya Miller’s data capsule. His face clouded over.

  “We’ve got to take every turn we can to get to Hawaii faster,” he mulled.

  “Skip Atuona?” suggested Sherman.

  “Hell, no! That would be disastrous! We’ll just have to hurry, that’s all.”

  “And you?” Federi prodded Paean, who had watched the whole Crow’s Nest procedure from the rail. “Don’t you want to join in the Ceilidh?”

  “Och, no,” she said, turning away. She leaned on the portside rail and stared at the receding land, behind and to the left.

  “Hey!” Federi inserted himself between her and her view. “Are you alright?”

  “Feel sick,” said Paean. The Romany peered at her, worried. Seasickness boded no well, on a pirate vessel.

  “Not the sea,” she clarified. “That ratty green bug. Federi, what if it mutates anyway? Doc forbade me to release anything GM into the wild!”

  “Doc forbade you?” Federi frowned. “Bad news, little pirate. You’ll have to face the music.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “What does your sight say – will it mutate?” asked Federi.

  Paean went quiet. The gypsy could see how she was listening for that gift of hers. He wondered how well she had developed her gypsy radar, whether she had used it back in Molly Street. Whether her gift – and Shawn’s – had anything to do with Annie Donegal’s execution.

  “No,” she said eventually. “It self-terminates much faster than I thought. Three to five hours. That’s all. I think. Got to simulate it in the lab.”

  “Good. Now go and report to Doc.”

  “Can’t I have five more minutes first?” asked Paean, her blue eyes pleading.

  “Alright,” laughed the gypsy. “Five more minutes leaning on the rail with Federi. I’m timing it!” He glanced down at his rewired wrist-com. The Captain was calling him. “Sorry, little sunbird. Without Federi. Kathal!”

  “You’re a sterling friend,” said Paean quietly as he sauntered off. She thought he hadn’t heard it; but a broad smile spread over the gypsy’s face.

  The day turned glorious, the tropical afternoon sun beating down, the sea wind blowing and the ship surging ahead on the gently rolling waves. Panama had long since disappeared beyond the hazy blue horizon. Ronan sat on the prow of the Zephyr gazing ahead, enjoying the cooling spray that splashed across his face every now and then. They were headed west-southwest now, towards the Marquises Island Group where they were going to stop over before setting course for Hawaii.

  Federi and Shawn were in the galley preparing lunch. A very late lunch. The portholes were open; the blue of the afternoon blew in balmy and just short of sticky.

  “One thing we could do a lot more on the pirate ship,” commented the Romany sleepily, filleting a celery stalk. “Loaf around!” He yawned. It had been a darned long run! Shawn agreed heartily.

  “Should we cook the veggies in Paean’s special water?” asked Federi with a grin.

  “Oh yeah, and when everyone’s asleep, we take over the ship,” Shawn played along.

  “ ‘s called mutiny,” Federi said, decapitating a carrot with a swift stroke. “Never do that unless you’re prepared to kill the Captain, first mate and everyone else who isn’t on your side.”

  “Like, my sister.” Shawn yawned. “I could do with some of her concoction now.” He had been up since well before dawn, as they all had, and he was beginning to feel it.

  “I don’t think you need any,” laughed Federi. “Go on, boy, go sleep. I think I can peel enough potatoes myself.” Rhine Gold, incidentally, was loafing around, as was Ronan Donegal. Fair was fair. The younger brother shouldn’t be made to work harder than the older one.

  “I’ll sleep in the Crow’s Nest,” said Shawn. “Cooler up there.”

  “Scoot off then. Shoo!”

  Federi wiped the sweat from his forehead with his flared sleeve. It was an exceptionally hot day. In the excitement of moment-to-moment survival he had failed to notice it earlier. He followed Shawn briefly onto the deck and watched him climb into the rigging and settle himself in the newly reinstalled Crow’s Nest.

  The sky was a hazy blue, the sea warm. The air had that specific tang to it that you only got here in the Pacific. Called Freedom. But hang on –

  He activated his wrist-com. “Actually, Shawn –“ Federi stopped himself. Plenty of time still to call the boy back down from there if his suspicions came to bear.

  “Yes, Federi?” came the answer, and the red shock of hair popped up over the Crow’s Nest rim.

  The Romany gave him the thumbs up. “Watch out for those seagulls.”

  Federi joined Ronan on the jib deck at the prow. “Fine hazy day.” The spray whipped up at them.

  “Strangely warm, this sea,” said Ronan. “In Dublin the sea is always cold. Funny to have warm sea water.”

  “Too warm,” commented Federi.

  “Why?”

  “Watch that squall develop!”

  Ronan nodded.

  “You get on well with my sister,” he commented.

  Federi smiled. “Poor girl needed the moral support.”

  “Poor girl! Dratted naughty girl! Cloning something and setting it free! Still going to box her ears for that,” growled Ronan. “She’s out of hand!”

  “You’re not going to,” said Federi. “She’s already had a ruffle from me, and then Captain, and then the Doc. She needs you to be a brother now, not a father figure!”

  “Is that an order?” asked Ronan.

  Federi smiled slyly and stared up at the taller young Irishman.

  “Would you like it to be one?”

  The Captain came up to the prow too. He peered into the distance.

  “Anything yet, Federi?”

  Federi nodded. The Captain smiled. “Good!”

  Two hours later it was upon them. The muggy haze boiled up into billowing sulphur-coloured clouds, partly obscuring the sun, and still thickening. The wind picked up, transforming the gently rolling tide into choppy surf, reflecting the evil glow of the clouds in yellow crests. The light compounding hull of the Solar Wind was beginning to dance upon the waves like a young horse.

  Federi was checking the repaired leak in Wolf’s cabin. The torpedo had caused damage to one of the tubes that made up the ballasts of the Solar Wind when she submerged. The Solar Wind’s hull was a double hull. When Radomir Lascek had converted her into a submarine, one of his alterations had been to line the whole outer hull with inflatable compounding tubes that were usually empty and flattened out; when she sank, they were pumped full of water via pumps in the keel, and when she surfaced, compressed air was forced into them from the top ends to force the water back out, helping the pumps along. As the last water was removed and the valves closed, the air was sucked back out of the tubes, back into the compressor tanks. Those were hiding in the two crew cabins furthest astern, on the lower crew deck. Federi kept the cabins locked; the tanks comprised part of his round when he checked on everything on the ship.

  It had been a huge and tricky job, he remembered, removing and repositioning the network of sensors on her hull onto the slightly flexible outer hull that was added on after the tubes had been installed. It had taken days testing and fixing the functionality of each sensor. That outer shell of the Solar Wind was layer upon layer of ship compounding, lined with wire mesh. The ship type compounding came as a gooey liquid that set to a tough, somewhat elastic solid on contact with air. The Solar Wind’s hull was tou
gh. A torpedo could at best hope to make a crack.

  This torpedo had cracked both layers of the hull. The repair kit Rhine Gold and Ronan had used, contained a compounding spray that foamed out and filled all crevices and then solidified. He’d need to clean that out and repair it properly in Atuona, so that the tube could resume its normal function. But it was a watertight repair; he could hardly see the seam.

  “All flyers on deck,” came the summons over the intercom. Federi straightened out, content that should the Solar Wind need to submerge, the cabin wall would stay intact, and that only one ballast had been sacrificed, for now. He made his way to the outer deck. So Captain wanted to fly this one!

  This was where the ropes came into play. Shawn had wondered about them a few times, and their function, as the sails of the Solar Wind were electronically controlled. Federi had always replied: “Wait and see!”

  “Shawn,” yelled Federi in a panic. The ship was beginning to buck dangerously, and he had forgotten about the young boy sleeping in the Crow’s Nest. He tied a lifeline around his own middle and climbed into the rigging.

  Shawn was surfacing, groggy and confused, falling about in the hard Crow’s Nest. He couldn’t understand this. He stuck his head out and very nearly went over as the ship pitched.

  “Whoa!”

  Tough wiry hands gripped him. “Steady now, boy! Hold onto me!”

  Shawn hung onto Federi’s sinewy arms, taking in the storm. Oh so. That was why one didn’t fall asleep in the Crow’s Nest! A huge breaker roared towards the ship and broke against her hull, the impact sending a shudder up the Solar Wind’s rigging, the spray flying nearly all the way up to them. Shawn could feel the mist.

  “How do I get out of here?” he asked and started climbing out.

  “Stay put!” snapped Federi. Ronan arrived by the gypsy’s side. Between the two of them they tied lifelines onto Shawn. Ronan tried hooking his elbow around the rigging to free up both hands. Federi shook his head vehemently.

  “One hand for the ship and one hand for yourself,” he shouted over the surf. “Never forget that! Rule One! Shawn! Why didn’t you tie on a life-line when you came up here?”

  “Forgot! Sorry!”

  Rain came down suddenly, arriving with a great sigh. From the first fat splotches to the deluge took less than ten seconds. An enormous wave wandered over the deck, submerging the hooks. The Solar Wind’s deck vanished. There was nothing but ocean for a second. They were marooned in the ship’s rigging and the rest of the sailors were standing in the sea, hanging onto handhold lines, drenched with rain and seawater. Shawn stared, awestruck. Thunder clapped.

  “Aargh! I hate these tropical storms,” yelled Federi. “They come aboard uninvited!”

  Shawn climbed out of the Crow’s Nest, hanging onto the supporting hands of his brother and the gypsy. Once he hung hands and feet on the ropes of the rigging, they began their precarious descent. The rigging bowed and waved like a famous actor after a show. And they were the fleas, thought Shawn with a grin. It was the first really exciting thing that happened on this ship, excepting the sea battle they had braved earlier today. And that had perhaps been a bit too exciting!

  On the deck, more activity was happening. The breaker that had washed over had been a single; most of the waves stayed meekly below the level of the deck, although they roared and splashed impressively. Shawn watched how the older sailors tied more handhold lines. Ropes criss-crossed the deck. The Captain was watching the procedures from the bridge.

  “Move it, Shawn,” prodded Ronan. The youngest Donegal unfroze out of his fascinated trance and shimmied the rest of the way down the rigging to the deck.

  “Captain’s orders are,” shouted Federi as they finally reached the deck and the handholds, “all hands below deck except the flyers.” He untied Shawn and sent him below. “Go close all portholes, Shawn!”

  The young pirate grumbled but obeyed. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to be out in the rain too, flying the storm!

  Ronan, Rhine Gold, Wolf, Marsden and Federi set the sheets of the mainsail and foresail to just forward of beam reach positions, but let those of the big staysail and the jibs fly free. The Captain activated the furling gear for each, and the sails wound up on their revolving stays to become narrow sausages, so that there were no sails flying in front of the foremast. They clipped their lifelines to running lines secured to the foredeck, just ahead of the foremast. Federi collected the ends of four ropes from a hatch at the base of the mast and showed the younger sailors how to lead these lines, which he called the flying sheets – or brake sheets and speedbar sheets – through the electronically-assisted extra pulleys that had risen out of the deck; how to wind the ropes twice around their hands and hook one foot under hoops fitted to the deck, which he called toe-straps. Marsden checked each of the four active winches personally.

  “We usually have at least six,” he commented. “But it will just have to be good enough. I’ll be co-ordinating the set of the other sails from the flying console, as usual. Federi, port speedbar sheet, Svendsson starboard. Schatz, starboard brake sheet. ” He instructed the beginners how to control the sheets – pulling was straightforward but if they had to feed out, they needed to loosen the lock on their winch by tugging the winch line at the same time as giving a slight pull to the flying sheet before allowing play. The hand with the winch line had to hang onto a handhold line too; you tugged the winch line without releasing the handhold. Only a slight pull was needed; it had to be done firmly though, while another tug would re-engage the lock.

  Marsden gave a whole lot more detailed instructions. Ronan battled to envision what precisely the First Mate meant.

  “It’s your first time, Donegal. Do you understand what you’re supposed to do?”

  Ronan nodded. He didn’t really follow; but he figured that he would copy what the others did and learn as he went along. It had worked so far.

  “You’ve got the port brake sheet there,” repeated Marsden, not satisfied. “You pull that, it bends the port end of the wing downward. You need to watch the wing very carefully, adjust the sheet the second it goes the slightest bit out of shape with the rest, and listen out for Captain’s orders. If he says pull, pull until told to stop. That steers the kite, among other things. If he pulls the kite closer you have to take up the slack immediately, and if he lets out you have to pay out the sheet to match.”

  “Yes, sir.” Wing? Kite? What wing and kite?

  “Ready, Donegal? Ready, Schatz? Svendsson?”

  Rhine Gold grinned hugely and nodded at the First Mate. Wolf gave a thumbs-up. Marsden waved a signal back to the Captain on the bridge.

  The Solar Wind dipped into a trough and came back up. Something shot upwards like a rocket out of the base of the foremast, dragging cables out of the deck behind it. It missed the upper parts of the stays with their furled sails by only a breath and snapped open in the wind with a resounding crack, shaping itself into a huge batwing filled with air. Its wingspan was easily twice that of the whole height of the foresail. The Solar Wind leaped forward.

  Federi grinned at Ronan. “Meet our kite sail!”

  Ronan gaped.

  “ ‘s a parafoil wing really,” added the gypsy. “But we call it a kite.”

  The kite sail flew well above the height of the masts, where the wind was supposedly cleaner. Right now the Solar Wind felt as though she had more wings than a swarm of dragonflies.

  There was a strange sensation as if the sea level were dropping under the ship. Ronan, who had dutifully been gazing at the kite sail, got disoriented, lost his balance and staggered, and hung onto his brake sheet. The huge kite pulled sharply to one side, suddenly shorter on one end. The ship got dragged sideways; the deck tilted. The sea came a lot closer again; some water from an annoying breaker spilled around their feet. The kite skimmed the water.

  “Donegal! What are you doing?” shout
ed Marsden. “Let out the line! Let it out!”

  Ronan let go of his flying sheet in consternation. Federi lunged for it and handed it back to him.

  “Pull your winch line and feed the flying sheet to the winch,” he explained, and supervised that Ronan did it right. The kite rose again, one wing-tip painting a spray of seawater against the clouds.

  “Thanks, Federi.”

  “That was Captain pulling her back up with her risers,” commented the gypsy. “Take in the slack! … Good. You’ve got to feel the ship through your feet. No time for looking down! If you stumble, grab the handhold lines, don’t tug your brake sheet!”

  “We’ve lost the momentum,” Marsden threw in. He waved at the bridge. Captain’s voice came through the com on the mast, shouting something unintelligible.

  “She’s going up again,” translated Marsden.

  The kite sail strained at her rising cables as though she were trying to break free. That sail was aptly named. It was really like trying to control an extremely big, capricious kite. And Radomir Lascek’s commands over the ship com on the mast, often repeated and translated by Jon Marsden, didn’t make sense.

  Marsden grinned at Federi without any humour. “This one is pure dentistry,” he remarked. “Bleeding green team!”

  The breakers that gushed across the deck every so often made things more exciting. These were high seas!

  “Why are we doing this?” shouted Ronan to Federi.

  “This is how we fly a storm!” Federi emitted through his teeth. “Yippee! Yee-haw! Anna bottle of rum!” He never took his eye off the kite sail.

  “Are we having any success?” Ronan shouted back. “Feels like we’re just slipping around!”

  “This is a tricky one,” shouted Federi. “Can’t seem to catch that stream. Not flying yet. Not really going anywhere!” He started singing loudly and slightly off key. “Daah dee daah beedee dabeedee daah, YO-HO-HO…”

  Ronan grinned. “Want singing lessons?”

  “AND a bottle of RUM! RM!@*!” A faceful of spray drowned the Romany’s song. The result of not keeping his eye on the sea. And he was the one who had drilled into all three Donegals that you never, never turned your back on the sea!

  Ronan peered up at the huge kite sail. It was being whipped to and fro, and they with it. He couldn’t be sure if the tip he was supposed to be watching had the right shape or not. Horrible turbulences up there! That gigantic bat darting about above them looked far too large for the ship. In which way was it controllable?

  The Solar Wind lifted onto a crest, and beyond, and that sensation of being right out of the water, was repeated. What was happening? Ronan lost his bearings as the ship moved in a way she should logically never be able to. He staggered, tripped on the toe-strap, and fell, taking the sheet with him.

  “Donegal!” thundered Marsden, turning. The kite sail dived into the water. The Solar Wind lost her extra height again and crashed down into a trough, and the sea came aboard. Jonathan Marsden lost his footing and scrambled back onto his feet with salty brine shooting all around his knees.

  Ronan tried to figure out whether it was his fault again. He let out his line. More breakers were opportunistically wandering across the deck now. Someone closed the hatch from inside.

  Great! So they were stuck out here, come hell or – suddenly the whole effect wasn’t funny anymore. Ronan glanced at the gypsy and recognized the reason Federi was yodelling off-key like that. Fear.

  And if the veterans were afraid…

  Another order crackled over the ship com. It was unintelligible again. Marsden and Federi exchanged glances.

  “All flyers below deck,” translated Jonathan Marsden for the sailors. “Captain’s orders!”

  Ronan breathed his relief.

  “What!” shouted Federi, flashing a grin. “Just when it was getting jolly! AND a bottle of RUM! RUM!”

  The kite sail rose again from the waves and pulled upwards. Ronan’s eyes followed it. Its cables shortened and it was hauled in. The Solar Wind crashed down into another trough, and spray gushed aboard. Ronan suddenly worried about all the slack on his line and lost hold of it in his eagerness. He lunged for it, releasing both the handhold and winch line, and went down, flailing for a grip on anything, just as Marsden was yelling: “The sheets look after themselves when we take the kite in.” Federi, Wolf and Rhine Gold released their flying lines too at that moment, and the sail collapsed into a heap of cloth which was sucked back into its place, disappearing into that hatch in the deck. Wolf was already fighting his way to the bridge. Another wave washed over the deck, dragging Ronan along. His lifeline pulled taut. He splashed about wildly, gasping for air. That darned line was so tight, it was cutting his breath off. And when he managed a huge gasp, it was full of salt water. He coughed and retched, and panicked.

  Someone grabbed Ronan under the arms and yanked him back to his feet. It was Rhine Gold. As Ronan caught his breath he saw that Federi had also started battling his way towards them.

  “Thanks, Mate!” gasped Ronan, hanging onto the huge German to steady himself while he found the handhold ropes again. The ship rolled heavily. He fell back against the lines; this time he didn’t lose his footing though.

  The sailors fought their way up to the bridge, as the hatchway had been sealed off against the crashing tide. One by one they passed through the door and down the stairwell onto the upper crew deck, Marsden last, after he and Federi had finished removing the flying sheets from their winches while leaving forestay and jibs still furled.

  The Captain glanced at his First Mate.

  “Are they all in?” asked Marsden wildly.

  “All that I could see,” said Radomir Lascek. “Solar Wind registers all wrist-coms. Roll call, right away.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Roll call,” announced Marsden when they were all gathered in the boardroom.

  “Roll call,” Radomir Lascek’s command boomed over the ship com, loudly audible in every last part of the ship.

  A few crewmembers still came trundling in, holding onto all the railings along the passageways as the ship was whipped and tossed this way and that by the storm. Ailyss, emerging from deep below the decks, looked very green, nearly resembling Paean’s scarf. Dr Judith handed her a piece of chocolate. Ailyss looked at it and charged towards the porthole.

  “Don’t open the porthole!” chorused the crew. Marsden glanced up from his roll-call. Paean moved to Ailyss’s side and put her arm around the girl.

  “Got something that’s going to sort that,” she said. “Come!” She led Ailyss off to the infirmary. “Breathe deeply, slowly, Ailyss. Tell me about yourself.”

  “Don’t pry!” gasped Ailyss.

  Paean snapped her mouth shut, shocked. Then her good sense won out. The older girl was probably feeling so sick she didn’t want to communicate at all.

  “I’m not prying,” said Paean gently, “I’m helping you. Talking will make you feel better. Tell me your favourite colour.”

  “Green,” said Ailyss through clenched teeth. She looked it.

  “Panama went well, don’t you think,” prompted Paean.

  “One up for the Solar Wind,” retorted Ailyss. “Blasted sea!”

  Why would the girl take a job on a ship if she got seasick? But perhaps she hadn’t known.

  “Your first job on a ship?” the little redhead asked.

  “And my last one,” snapped Ailyss. “Damned! When we get to Honolulu I’ll be off the ship so damned fast!”

  “I’ll miss you,” said Paean.

  Ailyss stared at her in blank surprise. “Why?”

  Paean shrugged. She hadn’t known that she felt this way; she had begun to regard the Solar Wind’s crew as a family, and especially all the younger members were like a litter of sibs. She had never felt as closely tied to her friends in Molly Street, although she had known them a lot
longer. Maybe it was something about nearly having died together, all of them. Having survived that death place, Lake Gatun. Maybe it was because they were all fleeing from the Unicate.

  “Cause you’re my friend,” she said instead of a lengthy explanation. She doubted the brunette would understand, or even want to listen at this point. “See, here we are. In the infirmary. Sit down a spell. Don’t look down. Fix your eyes on that sea battle there. Here, hang onto that!” She stuffed a pillow in Ailyss’ hands.

  “Urgh,” commented Ailyss. “Colour scheme honks!” Paean could see by her complexion that she was feeling better. The little herb witch rummaged in the Doc’s drawers.

  “Now where did I see those vomifenes… Fry that!” She scrambled off towards the galley, and moments later she was back with something bulbous in her hands. “Chew this, Ailyss. Will make you feel better!”

  Ailyss had stretched out on the prow-wards bunk and had closed her eyes. Now she opened them to eye that root with suspicion.

  “Ginger,” said Paean. “Fresh as anything. Trust me, it works.” She sat down on the rim of the bunk. “I’m a herbalist, Ailyss. My remedies work.” And suddenly her eyes stood full of tears, recalling just how well they had worked. And how they had failed the one time she most needed them to work. She sniffed.

  Ailyss accepted the root and bit into it. It took her breath away with its “freshness”.

  “Ow!”

  Paean smiled, swallowing back those tears.

  “You’ll feel better in no time flat,” she said. “Shall I go?”

  “No, stick around,” said Ailyss, waiting for the burning to stop. “Just please don’t talk, okay?”

  “Promise,” said Paean, took the thick Physiology volume off the pull-out shelf under the sternwards bunk and made herself comfortable. She had received an unexpected treasure earlier today – a friend. It was her turn to be one.

  “How you can read in this, I don’t know,” said Ailyss.

  Paean smiled and stayed true to her promise of not talking. Ailyss bit into the root again. Amazingly, it did make her feel better.

  Everyone was accounted for. Nobody had gone overboard. Radomir Lascek punched the submerging sequence into the console and watched the rigging through the lashing rain. The sails closed; the rigging started folding up. But then it got stuck. Radomir Lascek peered out into the storm, trying to fathom what was going on. The problem seemed to be the Crow’s Nest. It wasn’t collapsing the way it should. The Captain stared at it, worried. This was no good! Without the Crow’s Nest flattening out and the rigging folding against the deck, the masts could not be secured down. And he couldn’t submerge the Solar Wind without the rigging secured. The sea would annihilate it!

  Merry hells! He’d have to send someone out there, into that hurricane from Hades, to sort it out!

  “Federi and Schatz,” he called into the intercom. “Need you back on deck to fix up the Crow’s Nest! And be careful, men!”

  Rhine Gold beckoned to the gypsy and led the way up to the bridge, out into the torrential weather and down the steps. Slippery stuff; but he was wearing his heavy sea boots that he had procured in Hamburg before setting out. They were really good stuff. They were specially designed for extra grip on compounding decks in heavy weather. In the North Sea they had already given him good service in a few of those icy storms. He wondered if Hawaii would have any of those boots – he’d like to get some for Ronan, too.

  He shook his golden curls out of his face, splattering like a wet dog, and peered up into the rigging with its half-closed booms, hanging onto a line. The sky was grey with dusk now, darkening the clouds further. The white Crow’s Nest contrasted starkly. Yes, that thing was indeed stuck. They’d get to that in a second!

  He forged his way forward along the handhold lines, ignoring the water that gushed around his boots. He was a born and bred Hamburger! Bit of sea didn’t frighten him! He dashed a glance over his shoulder to see if Federi was following, wondering how the scrawny man stood up to the job in times like these. And yet Federi was one of the toughest sailors on the ship. Rhine Gold supposed that he compensated for his physical shortages with sheer willpower.

  “Lifeline!” barked the Romany. Rhine Gold grinned and tied a lifeline around his middle. Almost he’d forgotten! Pirates or no, he’d make Captain proud of him! He started up into the rigging of the foremast.

  Radomir Lascek watched from the bridge. He also hoped that Federi would handle the situation, if young Rhine Gold got into trouble.

  The two unequal sailors, the tall and the tough, climbed into the rigging, securing extra knots like mountaineers as they went. Federi stared at the gigantic waves boiling towards and around them and grinned. There were moments when they hung almost below the waves; only to get whipped back upright the next second. The rigging with its slight elasticity! He’d never get used to this! In all his years on the Solar Wind he hadn’t yet. It terrified him anew every time. And yet there was a streak in him that loved the very fear of it, every second.

  “DAY-O, Da-aaa-ayo!“ he bellowed. Singing lessons? He thought he’d like some! For added volume.

  Rhine Gold heard the gypsy’s voice and glanced down.

  Suddenly his life paused. There was an enormous wave moving across the deck, nearly the height of the bridge; it passed what looked like inches underneath Federi. The ship tilted as the wave moved on. The rigging rose up towards the darkening skies. The deck cleared of water – and the descent began. They went down with the rigging in an arc, towards that gaping void of black water – and another monster thundering towards them, reaching for them…

  “Three BANANA,” Federi yelled delightedly, nearly level with him now. “How’re you holding up, mate? Come on, not far now!”

  Rhine Gold stared at the unlikely man with the drenched purple scarf around his tatty black tangles. He wanted to give an answer, but his jaw was clenched and wouldn’t release. Ditto his hands. They hung at fourty-five degrees for a moment, then the rigging rode up again. He could feel his whole body beginning to shake, but he couldn’t unclasp a hand from those ropes.

  “Come on, old buddy,” yelled Federi. “Got to do this! We’ll finish it and go back below deck!”

  Rhine Gold managed to get his jaws unlocked, but what came out had him cringe with fear and embarrassment.

  “I’m going to die!”

  “You’re not!” came a shout from below. Ronan was right underneath him. “Come, man. Ronan Donegal’s here. You saved my life just now. I won’t let a friend like you drown!” Ronan was beside him now.

  “Donegal!” shouted Federi. “Thank the Stars! What?”

  “Captain’s orders,” said Ronan, grinning. “Yow-wee! Roller coaster’s an understatement!”

  “Federi!” Jon Marsden was right behind him. “Good to see you, mate! Donegal, Schatz – below deck! Federi and I will sort the Crow’s Nest!”

  Federi climbed higher, nearly floating with relief. That had been a nasty moment there! For a second he had wondered how he was going to get Schatz back down to the deck! But if Ronan could stabilize Rhine Gold… He glanced down at the two young men. If Ronan hadn’t managed by the time he and Jon were done with the Crow’s Nest, they’d pick up that blond pussycat by his ears and his toes and carry him back below the deck! He turned his attention to the Crow’s Nest.

  It was a hinge. A single, forsaken little hinge that had been installed the wrong way! Federi hooked his elbow around a rope the way he had forbidden Donegal to do earlier, took out his pocket knife and started loosening screws. Jon Marsden was there beside him, securing three more lifelines before releasing the rigging altogether and helping with his small toolkit that he had brought up here for the job. The gale lashed around their ears, the surf crashed over the deck, the ship pitched and rolled, tossed about like a ball by the waves. Not losing the little screws was the trickiest part of
the whole job.

  Federi was bored with the banana boat song by now. Jon Marsden ground his teeth. He knew what was next.

  “Ma-haaaa-la -!!” bellowed Federi, delighted. He grinned and listened. Ronan feared that the mast might break. “Blast, it doesn’t work! It never works on this ship! Should have heard them on Captain Ali’s ship!”

  “We did hear them,” growled Marsden. The national hymn of Southern Free. Federi did the same little act every time!

  The Solar Wind pitched forward steeply. Ronan’s fears for the mast and rigging were shared by the Captain. He watched from the bridge and wondered if he ought to abandon the steering to Dr Jake and go out there to help them. But nobody could hold the Solar Wind as steady as he could in such a situation. He would not be doing them a favour.

  It took Ronan longer to get Rhine Gold down from the rigging than it took Federi and Marsden to sort out the problem with the Crow’s Nest. The two young sailors arrived on the bridge only moments before the salted men. The Solar Wind sealed. The Crow’s Nest and rigging folded up neatly now, the hooks secured it to the deck. The four mavericks watched from the bridge with the Captain. Another huge wave rolled across the deck and foamed right past the bridge. Ronan grabbed onto something in fear. The water rose, and rose…

  “We’re submerging,” Federi pointed out. Ronan breathed again.

  As the ship dropped well below the surface, the wild thrashing and churning calmed down into steadier rocking. Radomir Lascek wasn’t content until they were deep enough that the ship was a lot steadier. Then he released the console, turned and grinned at his men.

  “Well done!”

  Federi had escaped to the galley. He had ordered the sailors to get into dry clothes; now it was time to prepare supper. He sat down at the Ironwood table, his own clothes still dripping, his mind a blank. He needed to think up a meal. All he could think of was that horrific storm outside.

  Why had Captain tried to fly this one? It had been far too choppy, the wind hopelessly too unsteady! It had nearly cost them two sailors, that attempt at flying, and then closing the rigging too late.

  Captain’s judgement in storms was better than this! Federi scowled and stared at the one eye in the Ironwood table that had originally made him buy the antique. It stared back at him without an answer. Why on Earth would Captain want to fly a storm like this? Why take such a risk? Was it the aftermath of surviving Lake Gatun? Or was it something deeper? Something darker? His gypsy radar clamoured about this. He’d have to find out.

  Shawn stuck his head into the galley.

  “There you are, Federi!”

  “Help me, Donegal,” said the gypsy bleakly. “What the hell am I going to make them for eats? Ratted crew wants to eat all the darned time!”

  “Pancakes!” cheered the young boy. Federi lightened up.

  There was no staying gloomy or scared with those two younger Donegals around, the chirpy twelve-year-old and his impish sister.

  Far behind them, Captain Gomez was being flung about in the storm. The T576 had headed straight into it; being an exclusively motor-driven craft, though, at least she didn’t face the risk of losing a mast.

  “He can’t survive this,” said Gomez to Gina, tapping at the screen with the vague positronic trace signal of the Solar Wind. “There is no way a sailboat can come through this kind of squall!”

  A huge wave very nearly capsized them; but given the rounded nature of the T576, this hardly mattered. These sturdy little craft didn’t have outside decks at all; they were shaped a bit like a cross between flying saucers and tadpoles. Their windows were large, all thick armour glass that bullets could not penetrate and even a cannonball would have trouble cracking. If they were turned upside down by a gigantic wave, a thirty-footer like this one coming towards them now – aargh!! – the craft would simply right itself again, by the hugely disproportionate weight of the triangular fin and with a blast of all the correct drives. The people inside the craft – well now – if they got hurt it was their own fault for not fastening their star-shaped seatbelts! Gina rubbed her head where she had banged it on the wall.

  “Glad about one thing,” she said.

  “What is that?”

  “That we managed to put that Miller hag ashore in Panama.”

  “Ha,” said Gomez. “If I hadn’t woken up minutes before her, and dosed her with another sip of coffee before she was properly awake…”

  In a plush hotel room in Panama, expensive linen pillows were being torn to shreds and crystal decanters were being flung at crystal mirrors with gilded frames.

  13 - Terror of the Pacific

  That night, Ronan lay awake. The images of those dreadful mountains of water wouldn’t let go of him. Every time he tried closing his eyes, another of those monsters came growling towards him.

  Ronan Donegal had grown up in Dublin. As a child, he had often watched the sea; when it stormed and the surf was high, he had hung in wharf-side canteens to watch the waves, fascinated. How often had he dreamed of being a sailor!

  Now he wished for nothing more fervently than dry, solid land under his feet. Preferably far away from any shore. Knowing that they were inside rather than on the waves was even worse. If something went wrong, if one of the portholes didn’t seal, if pressure pushed the hatchway open, there was no escape. It was a cold, deadly prison.

  He got up and out of the cabin he shared with Shawn – who was sleeping like an innocent. He moved out into the passage, weirdly lit in orange bioluminescence. All was quiet on the lower crew deck. Soft radar blips carried over from the console in the infirmary and the one in the lab. He knew that in the machine room someone was on night shift – possibly the taciturn Dr Jake, whom one only saw occasionally at mealtimes. The machine room was off-limits to all new crew; besides which Ronan didn’t feel like pulling conversation out of the scientist like a starling pulled worms out of the ground.

  He started moving north, towards the upper crew deck. Everything was quiet here too, except for more soft radar blips from the galley and the boardroom. Ronan cast one glance along the whole long passage from the stern-side stairwell to the open but dark galley and shuddered. He went one turn further up the staircase, and found himself on the bridge.

  “While you’re at it, lad,” said Sherman Dougherty, looking up, “make us some coffee, will ya. Put a shot of rum in it.”

  “But – Ship’s Rules –“

  “Captain knows,” said the old man. “In times like this – it’s what the stuff is for. Make it a stiff one, won’t yer?”

  Ronan poured hot water and rum into the cups with coffee powder.

  “You boys were grand out there today,” said Sherman, moving the pointer pointlessly around the console screen. It looked as though he was on the Net. “Real hero-craft.”

  “We nearly bloody drowned, din’t we just?” said Ronan tonelessly.

  “Now you know why sailors swear,” agreed old Sherman. “And why they chase every skirt in the harbours. We’re going to land in Atuona, Donegal. I want to make the Captain’s rules clear. While at sea, no drinking.” He motioned to the coffee. “Situations like this excepted. When ashore, no womanising! Land wind messes with a sailor’s mind. Captain needs his crew coherent. I mean that both ways.”

  “Thanks,” said Ronan. “Wasn’t going to go womanising!”

  Sherman Dougherty drummed his fingers on the console. Ronan sipped his Calypso coffee and stared out into the glum darkness. The Solar Wind’s deck lanterns were on, making an eerie green glow in the black water. For the first time Ronan understood just how waterproof everything was on this ship. It amazed him.

  “How long are we staying down here?” he asked.

  “As long as it takes.”

  “And if the air runs out?”

  Sherman smiled.

  “Can’t,” he said. “Our water desalinator produces oxygen. And we’ve got a store of it i
n the machine room, and then there are our rebreathers from the diving gear. We can stay down as long as we like.”

  “How long is that?” asked Ronan.

  “Until the storm breaks. This one might take days, we’re going the same way as it is.”

  Ronan groaned.

  Morning did dawn eventually, a green bottle-dawn. Ronan’s eyelids were finally beginning to sag. Sherman Dougherty was burning up with frustration. While the young man was sitting next to him, he couldn’t decrypt any further! He had talked on about pointless stuff – cannibalism on Hiva Oa and sea levels rising and falling – but it had failed to get the young man tired enough to go back to sleep. Old Sherman could understand it though. He had watched on the screens how the sailors had battled the sea yesterday evening. The fear had to sit very deep in Ronan’s bones! Sherman wondered if he would have held up so bravely himself.

 

  Captain Lascek walked onto the bridge. He checked the screens.

  “That Gomez still on our tail?”

  “Yum, Cap’n,” said Sherman around a blob of chewing tobacco. He missed his pipe.

  “Means they’ve got more detectors than radar,” mulled Lascek. “Wonder what their newest trick could be! Storm anywhere near abating?”

  “Looks like she’s slackening down a bit.”

  “Could we ride her now?” Lascek glared at Sherman. “No spitting, Dougherty!”

  “Washn’t gonna, Capt’n.” Sherman obediently spat his chew tobacco gone tasteless into his empty coffee cup.

  “That was my coffee!” objected Ronan.

  The Captain looked at him critically. “You’re a brave man, Donegal. Go catch some sleep.”

  Ronan dragged his tired self off the bridge.

  “Sherman,” said Radomir Lascek the second he was gone. “Any progress with that capsule?”

  “Poor lad was here all night,” said Sherman.

  “You go get some rest too, Sherman,” suggested the Captain. “You’ve done your best. Marsden and I will take it from here.”

  Rain was still lashing the bubble windscreen of the T576 in grey veils. Gina Nevada stared out into it vacantly. Stefano Gomez glanced at her profile.

  “Funny thing they’re radar shielded,” she ventured.

  He nodded silently. He would shield too, in their position! But that wasn’t going to throw him off. The positronic pattern detection system gave a signal not half as clear as sonar, but it was a signal against which the Solar Wind couldn’t shield. As yet.

  That Anya Miller was right about one thing. The technology aboard the Solar Wind had to be extremely advanced. All the deadbolts in Lake Gatun hadn’t killed the ship and crew. And now the ship was moving on ahead, although her signal came from under the sea. Odd. A faulty reading, or another mechanism to throw his detectors off track?

  Gomez wasn’t going to let go of what had happened in Hamilton. Why would the pirate tow his worst enemy into the harbour, right into the flotilla of stabilizers under his command? And why would Anya react so violently?

  There was something cooking here that he needed to lay bare. He suspected that it was somehow connected to the corruption in the hierarchy of the Unicate.

  He understood of course that he was on his own. He had delegated the command of Hamilton Harbour to his First Lieutenant. He doubted he’d ever regain that position; in fact he wondered how legal his status inside the Unicate was at current. But it didn’t matter, because if the whole structure was corrupt, it was all only a matter of time in any case.

  He peered at the console screens, wondering.

  “Here’s a problem,” muttered Radomir Lascek, just as his First Mate arrived on the bridge.

  “What, Radomir?”

  “See there, Jon? She was supposed to wait for us here! There’s absolutely no sign of her!”

  Great grey waves were rocking the ship, and rain still lashed down. The Solar Wind had surfaced, though her rigging remained secured.

  Jon Marsden nodded gravely. He was literally the only one aboard who knew about this rendezvous. The reason Captain couldn’t have gone to Hawaii first and left the contacts on Hiva Oa waiting. Plymouth had already cost too many days.

  They were now at the exact coordinates where the RY Angelfish ought to have waited for them; where they ought to have taken the informant aboard. But there was no sign of the private yacht. Not on the radar, the sonar, the electromagnetic sensors – no signal either…

  “What’s that over there?” asked Marsden, pointing.

  Lascek squinted into the rain. Something white was floating on the surf.

  “Hang in there, Jon,” he said and stormed down the stairs to the machine room. A few seconds later he resurfaced with a fishing rod.

  “Can you get her closer?” he asked. Marsden navigated the Solar Wind close to the piece of debris, then stalled the engines. Radomir Lascek ran out onto the deck into the lashing rain, tightened a lifeline around his middle and descended down the rungs on the side of the ship. He reached out with the fishing rod. It was just too short.

  “Hang this!” He hooked the fishing rod into the rungs and jumped into the high waves, swimming towards the floating board. There was a bit of lee in the lifeline. It allowed him to reach the huge piece of white compounding and hang onto it. By now he spotted various such pieces, scattered over the waves.

  He swam back to the ship, the piece of flotation board in tow. He climbed back up the rungs, carrying it. Compounding wasn’t heavy. He laid it on the deck of the Solar Wind.

  “Over there, Captain,” Jon Marsden called on his wrist-com. The Captain glanced to the bridge, to see where his First Mate was pointing; then followed the directive.

  There was an orange buoy floating on the waves a bit further out.

  Radomir Lascek descended those rungs once more. He untied his life line and swam out. The orange buoy had something attached to its bottom. He drew it up by its line. A sealed black box, half the size of Federi’s toolbox.

  “No!”

  He swam back to the ship with it, returned to the bridge and broke the seal with a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut.

  Right on top there was a hand-scribbled note.

  “Radomir,” he read. “I hope you’ll find this. Get this into the right hands – go through it, you decide. Careful – Rebellion divided. Watch out for Semanchio Sancho – he’s here, I’m dead. Good luck. Angelina”

  In the box, the processor of the Angelfish.

  Radomir Lascek stared out into the rain, at the floating remnants of the white RY Angelfish, his heart a blank.

  Jon Marsden sealed the door again. “What now, Captain?”

  Radomir Lascek gave an impatient hand signal. Jon Marsden understood. Submerge again. Angelina was dead; her yacht blown to pieces. She had clearly thrown the black box overboard before her ship was annihilated.

  And with her, the informant had been murdered. By whom? By that violent brute, Semanchio Sancho. Who was a pirate and a gunrunner. Neither Rebellion nor Unicate himself, double-dealing both. What had he done that for?

  He would pay for it. If that Sancho was still in the area, he, Radomir Lascek, would sink him. He stared grimly into the pelting rain, watching the waves fold over the deck of the Solar Wind as she submerged.

  Rushka came into the galley. The gypsy was already up, getting everything set up for breakfast. The Hungarian beauty watched him and got a mug of coffee stuck into her hand.

  “That was touch and go out there, twice, yesterday,” she said.

  “Yup.”

  “Saw it from the bridge.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Can’t understand why Captain doesn’t allow me to fly anymore. Been part of the flying team since I was twelve!”

  “He’s just protective of you,” said Federi, taking a seat across from her and sipping his own coffee.

  “Och, you’re always shielding him!”
shot Rushka.

  “Och?” probed Federi with an arched eyebrow.

  “Those Donegals are contagious,” grinned Rushka.

  “Och aye,” agreed Federi, smirking too. “Aren’t they, lass?”

  Shawn poked his nose into the galley. Rushka pulled her black leather cap into her face and lapsed into silence.

  “Hey, hey! Can I have coffee too?” asked Shawn.

  “Shore,” said Federi. “Och, Dunnigall, won’t ya bring old Sherrman a mug too? He’s on the earrly shift on the bridge.”

  “Shukar, Federi!”

  Shawn went on his mission, a coffee in each hand. Federi shook his head with a broad grin.

  “I’m tired of being jolly Rapunzel,” Rushka said.

  “Well, did you enjoy being Sleeping Beauty yesterday?”

  “You know exactly what I mean!”

  “Yes, I know,” agreed Federi with a sad smile. “You just want to be let out of the cage a bit. Be a normal teen. Party, go dating dirty young rogues without any cash flow. Get yourself into scrapes and marry and settle and have ten babies and get divorced. Och, it’ll never fly, Princess! But if you want, I’ll work on your father some more…”

  “Whose side are you on?” lashed the young Hungarian fury. “You sound just like the Captain!”

  “Och, noo, wee lass! I soond loike the Dunnigalls, now don’t Oi?”

  “I think it’s time I started fighting my own battles,” retorted Rushka sourly.

  “O boy!” Federi didn’t look forward to that. Rushka was just as dangerous, stubborn and hot-tempered as her father. A lot of mediating lay ahead for him.

  “When you were nineteen, where were you?” asked Rushka.

  Federi’s eyebrows lifted. “Hah! You know where I was! Southern Free! Getting ready to board the Solar Wind!”

  “Ensorcelling lots of girls,” gnashed Rushka.

  Federi laughed. “Sadly,” he said, “no. Never ensorcelled anyone.”

  “Yeah, I’ll believe that,” growled the Captain’s daughter. She downed her coffee, got up and left. Federi stared after her, then he gathered up the cups with a sigh.

  “Was already dead then,” he said softly. “But you knew that, I thought.”

  Shawn arrived on the bridge with two mugs of coffee. He glanced out into the bottle-green undersea dawn.

  “Hey! Wow!”

  Jon Marsden took one of the coffees. The Captain ignored Shawn completely.

  “What’s that?” asked Shawn, pointing to the radar screen. Marsden blinked. A second dot had started blipping there.

  “Donegal, go and help Federi in the galley,” ordered the First Mate. As the boy padded off, having lost a bit of altitude, Marsden locked onto the second dot.

  “What the hell…”

  Radomir Lascek peered over his shoulder.

  “That’s them,” he said.

  A large ship appeared on the T576’s radar. Stefano Gomez frowned and locked onto the ship identity. Its satellite emission was disabled, by the looks. He dug into the ship’s own processor via the universal security override codes.

  The Sue Jenkins.

  The Sue Jenkins? The name stuck out like a lighthouse in his mind. He’d been fifteen when that passenger liner had gone missing on its way to Hong Kong. It had eventually been presumed sunk.

  “How is that possible?” he muttered. “That ship has been missing for decades!”

  “Maybe she’s empty?” wondered Gina.

  “Going too fast for that,” said Gomez. “Unless it’s one of Lascek’s tricks.”

  His forehead creased in consternation. The signal of the Solar Wind was coming from underneath now. How was that? And yet she seemed to be moving at a steady speed, so it was unlikely that she was damaged. The Solar Wind, a submarine? That changed the ballgame! He could suddenly understand Anya Miller’s frustration.

  “Look!” said Gina. “Lascek’s stopped!”

  Gomez smiled grimly.

  “We’ll catch him up in a few minutes. So will the Sue Jenkins. Wonder if he has a rendezvous with her?”

  “Then why stop? And he must know we’re behind him!”

  “Maybe it’s a trap?”

  “We’re armed,” said Gina fearlessly. “This boat is no Pursuer, but there’s not a ship we can’t disable with our bolts. If it’s a trap for us, let’s show them whom they are dealing with!”

  Gomez smiled and shook his head. Oh, Gina! The bolts that were available on standard T-craft like this one were harmless. They killed nobody and only stunned for a moment. The electric equivalent of the rubber mace. A means of intimidating civilians. And the Solar Wind had come through Lake Gatun, where each of the T-craft had been armed with a Pursuer’s dead bolts on Anya’s orders! Miller had been unable to stop herself ranting about it.

  He peered at the huge vessel that loomed ahead in the grey rain. The Sue Jenkins was a passenger liner without sails, purely solar driven. Her compounding had faded to grey – if that was compounding! Suddenly Gomez wondered. T-craft were mainly of volcanic glass/neoplex polysynth. But apart from that and compounding, he wasn’t aware of other materials for modern hulls. The Sue Jenkins turned her flank.

  “What now?” asked Gina.

  “Let me speak to them.” The Captain engaged his ship-to-ship com.

  “This is Captain Gomez from the T576. Identify yourself,” he demanded.

  An answer came back in a language he had never encountered before. Creole? Aztec?

  “Careful now,” he heard the other Captain give orders to his crew in Spanish, not even bothering to switch off the intercom. “We don’t want to damage the boat.”

  Whoa! Those pirates were hoping to capture them!

  “We are armed,” warned Gomez. He reversed the T-craft. The tadpole started back-paddling. But not fast enough. The Sue Jenkins came straight towards them.

  “Fire,” Gomez told Gina. She engaged the firing sequence. A massive electric shockwave fizzled around the hull of the Sue Jenkins.

  “Is that the best you can do?” jeered the other Captain. Gina discharged another wave, with the same result.

  “They seem to have some sort of protective shield,” said Gina.

  Gomez peered at the grey ship. That was a layer of some or other metal over their hull! Metal deflected electricity!

 

  He addressed the other ship again.

  “If you are in league with Captain Lascek, be warned that there are forty more T-craft behind us. They’ll be here in minutes.”

  Another salvo of laughter echoed over the intercom. Harpoons with grappling hooks shot out from the pirate ship. There was a jolt, and the T-craft turned sideways.

  “They’ve got us,” said Gomez.

  Gina stared horrified at the wild men appearing on the Sue Jenkins’ deck as they were dragged towards her. She had a sudden, very clear impression of what the rest of her future held.

  “Get our guns,” Gomez ordered. “We’re not going down lightly!”

  She went to fetch their stun guns. Compared to the automatic fire power these men were carrying, the stuns looked pathetically like toys. She suddenly understood that the Unicate didn’t equip all of their military the same. Her Captain Gomez, despite having been the commander of the Stabilizers in Hamilton, seemed to rank quite low in their favour. It made her irrationally angry.

  The sonar beeped. Something was approaching fast – from below.

  “Come, look,” said Gomez to Gina.

  “Torpedo,” she breathed. “Massive one! Heaven help us!”

  “It’s not aimed at us,” said Gomez. “Look at that!”

  The pirate ship suddenly rocked violently. They heard the impact, and the explosion. A scream went up from the Sue Jenkins’s crew. Then a message came through both ships’ intercoms. In heavily accented, bad Spanish.

  “Semanchio Sancho! This is Captain Radomir Lascek o
f the Solar Wind. That was a warning shot. Cut the lines to the T576.”

  “Your warning shot has ripped a hole in my ship!” roared Sancho.

  “It was meant to,” said Lascek. “I mean my warnings. Cut the lines to the T576 or I’ll fire the second shot. I’ll give you ten seconds.”

  “Hold your fire, Lascek,” screamed Sancho. “We’re cutting! You’re dead! Why are you siding with the stabs now?”

  “I’m not,” said Lascek, a malicious smile in his voice. “I’m applying pest control.”

  That smile chilled Gina. No matter what Anya Miller was like – perhaps she was right? Perhaps Lascek was indeed a psychopath?

  They would have to be prepared. They had made the mistake of underestimating the pirate, just because of an unpredictable action. But if Lascek always consistently did evil deeds, he wouldn’t be unpredictable! And who knew why the pirate had saved that Anya Miller? Surely he had his own agenda!

  They owed Lascek their lives now. She wondered what the price would be, and if the Solar Wind’s pirates would apply “pest control” to the stabilizers too after finishing Sancho? She glanced anxiously at her Captain Gomez. Did he have any plan? He was smiling grimly, his hands poised over the controls.

  The crew of the Sue Jenkins sawed through the lines holding the stabilizer craft. It was no mean feat. Those lines were reinforced metal cables. But thirty pirates’ lives dangled on those cables – and more importantly, their boss Semanchio’s!

  Once those lines were free, Sancho called over the ship com.

  “Your little pets are free, Lascek! Where the hell are you?”

  “Behind you.”

  Radomir Lascek watched the pandemonium that broke out on the Sue Jenkins’ deck. He scanned for any sign of Angelina and her contact – but that was hopeless to begin with. Semanchio Sancho had a modus. He didn’t take hostages. He brutalized and murdered wherever he went, human life was cheaper than dirt to him. Sometimes he murdered brutally simply for the pleasure. His crew was hand-picked – all of them as cruel as he himself. The only reason they had so far been left alone by the Unicate and the Rebellion was because they traded with both – and in both organizations, human life was a cheap commodity anyway.

  All that frantic running around was going to bring them nothing today, thought Lascek. Justice had arrived.

  14 - Hey, ho, ho

  The craft was free. Gomez revved the drives. Nothing happened.

  “Screw is stuck,” said Gomez, adding a juicy expression in Spanish. “Hold the bridge, Gina. I’ll go and see what I can do.”

  Lascek’s voice came over the intercom. “Gomez, get out of the way. You can catch me later.”

  Gomez looked at Gina and she back at him.

  “It’s all a game for him,” said the Stab Captain incredulously.

  “You’re wrong, Gomez,” retorted Lascek. “This is no game. Get out!”

  “We can’t move, Captain Lascek. Looks like Sancho disabled our ship,” said Gina.

  “Then doggy-paddle!” came the impatient answer.

  Gomez got out through the hatch to look at the damage. Gina waited nervously. Gomez came back in, shaking his head.

  “Dry dock,” he said. “The steering mechanism is wrecked. Parts are wrenched off.”

  Radomir Lascek hammered a sequence into the Solar Wind’s console, and the second torpedo got released.

  “That’s for Angelina, you swine,” he muttered softly. His fingers ran across the console. The Solar Wind submerged once again.

  The Sue Jenkins opened fire on the Solar Wind; too late. The white sailing ship was sinking back beneath the waves. On the radar she was invisible. Sancho swore.

  One of his sailors arrived panting on the bridge. “Captain, we’re sinking!”

  “Then get into the lifeboats! Don’t stand there yammering!”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I’m coming,” snapped Sancho, “just – as – soon – as – I’ve – sunk – the Solar Wind !”

  Semanchio Sancho ground his teeth and tried again to get a lock on the Solar Wind. She had disappeared. Another torpedo slammed into his ship. His crew were abandoning ship, mobilizing the rubber lifeboats. They had left one lifeboat for the Captain. How fast things could turn at sea!

  “My mistake,” growled Sancho. “Shouldn’t have assumed that dog Lascek was sunk! Should have known it’s one of his party tricks!”

  There was one thing he could still do. Instead of the remaining lifeboat, he took one of his jet skis that was fastened on the deck. He unbolted it, slid it into the surf along its lubricated rails and gave it a moment to surface. He jumped onto it, his marine submachine gun slung over his back.

  The T-craft would make a better lifeboat than a rubber dinghy. An easy target, too. For his personal satisfaction he’d slit that Gomez’ belly open, for buddying up with Radomir Lascek and bringing ultimate doom on him! And that sharp little woman – a bonus. Third today. He was in the mood.

  He knew how T-craft worked. He had hijacked so many of them, cracking their security locks was like opening a can of beer. Sometimes he had hijacked one, sold it to someone and then hijacked it again from the buyer. Balanced on his jet ski, he fished the slim stiletto blade from his boot and inserted the tip in the exact right spot. The thick glass hatch opened silently, smoothly. Sancho abandoned the jetski and climbed aboard the T576, into the small machine room. Waves splashed in after him. He pulled the hatch closed.

  “He’s aboard,” Gomez whispered to Gina. “Get into the galley!”

  Gina obeyed silently. She had seen the artillery this man carried. Stun guns? They had to be mad!

  Gomez pulled her into the small pantry cupboard and closed the door. They stood silently, listening, breathing. She felt her Captain’s breath in her hair.

  Gomez pulled something out of his pocket and held it up for her to see in the nearly complete dark of the cupboard. A handgun. A real one.

  “I’ll only get one single shot,” he whispered close by her ear. “Got to get it right. We’ll wait in here until he’s in the galley.” He held his finger up to his mouth, indicating complete silence.

  Gina nodded, leaning against him. He was clutching her with his left arm, hanging onto a shelf with his right, with the gun. She started praying for that split second advantage her Captain needed over the pirate Sancho.

  Sancho moved out of the tiny area at the hatch that led down into the machine room, and through the folding doors to the cramped little sleeping quarters with the four bunks, stacked on both walls. He shifted open the second folding door and walked into the cockpit just in time to see his own ship sink. With a great sigh she suddenly pitched, lifted her great old prow right out of the water and steered away backwards into the depths. Enormous air bubbles burped to the surface.

  “That Lascek’s going to pay!” Sancho said between clenched teeth. “I’ll take the Solar Wind from him!”

  “Ha, ha, ha,” came Lascek’s tired voice over the intercom. “Look at you, Sancho. How are you going to do this? You’ve given yourself into the hands of Stabilizers! All they need to do now is tie you up and take you to Panama to be hanged!”

  “I’ll kill them first!” hissed Sancho. “And then it’s you!”

  “Oh, I know, I know!”

  There was a jolt. Then the craft started moving. It lifted clear of the waves, tadpole tail first. Sancho was knocked off his feet and landed face first on the windscreen.

  “Aargh! What now, Lascek? What devilish trick have you planned now?”

  “Just winching you up,” said Lascek. “To make it easier for you to get aboard the Solar Wind to take her off me.”

  Sancho screamed in rage and opened fire. He shot the T576’s console to pieces, tried to damage her windshield, failed, turned around and laid waste to her interior.

  “Where are you, Gomez, you cowering son of a bed-sh
eet?” he screamed. “Where’s your woman? I’ve heard that the Unicate sluts are the tastiest!” He laughed viciously.

  Gomez moved. They had both fallen against the side of the cupboard, with tinned goods and cereal boxes crashing on top of them.

  “Are you hurt?” he whispered into Gina’s ear.

  She shook her head. On the contrary, she had found something very handy. Forget sissy stun guns! Her hand had fastened around a highly pressurized bottle of caustic drain cleaner. All she needed was one shot and good aim.

  Their survival chances had just gone up by fifty percent. One of them would definitely see it through. Maybe both.

  “This is unreal!” Sancho reloaded his automatic. The T-craft swung face-down above the waves. He stood on the volcaniplex bubble windshield. He could see all the way up to the hatch; it opened, and Radomir Lascek stuck his head in.

  Sancho blew that head off with one burst of rounds. His temper derailed and he carried on shooting quite a bit after.

  Small pieces of pale yellow compounding rained down on him. And then, with a thump, the whole pirate Captain came through the hatch and landed on the glass next to him. Right into his rain of bullets!

  Semanchio Sancho panicked. His gun shot the wildcard pirate’s body full of holes; but the man just kept coming. Like in his early childhood nightmares, the bogeyman. He had known something when he was five. He regained it now, in the last moments of his wild and irresponsible life. He had known that this would be the way he’d go. The Devil would come and fetch him, and no amount of fire power would stop him.

  He stared into the Devil’s steel-blue eyes, unable to move anymore. His gun had run out of rounds. They hadn’t helped. There was icy judgment in the Devil’s eyes. Semanchio felt himself grabbed by the hair; there was a flash of light on metal, and then his senses ran away in a rush. His hand went up to his throat and registered wet.

  “You’ve murdered your last victim,” said the Devil and stepped back, allowing him to collapse to the glass. Semanchio Sancho watched the sea far below; as he breathed his last, it occurred to him that the Devil hadn’t shot at him once.

  It made sense. The Devil didn’t need a gun.

  Radomir Lascek turned from the crumpled, blooded form of Semanchio Sancho and waved an impatient gesture at the Solar Wind’s crew. They lowered the T-craft back into the water. Lascek walked past the galleyette to the hatch.

  “You can come out now,” he shouted at Gomez and Gina, and left their T-craft.

  Federi was shooting the pirates out of their lifeboats with uncanny precision. It only took him one shot per pirate with his long-range rifle.

  “Why are you doing that?” asked Shawn, shocked.

  Federi didn’t turn. He aimed, shot. Splash, went another dead pirate into the high surf.

  “But Federi!” protested Shawn. “You said we’re not that kind of pirate! You said there would be no bloodshed.”

  “This isn’t bloodshed,” said Federi curtly. “This is pest control.”

  “I don’t understand!”

  Federi turned and nailed Shawn with a very loaded stare.

  “Atenţie, Donegal,” he said darkly. “These are criminals. Murderers. Dirt. They rape and kill. We’ve terminated their captain. They’ll come for revenge when we’re not looking! Want your sister murdered by them?”

  “No,” said Shawn, shocked.

  “There, you try,” said Federi, pressing the rifle into Shawn’s hand.

  Shawn aimed and shot. One of the lifeboats deflated and bubbled away under water.

  “No, man, Shawn! It’s much harder to hit them when you can’t see that much of them!” scolded Federi. “Did you mean to hit the boat, or the pirates?”

  “The boat,” admitted Shawn.

  “Good shot then, boy!” Federi took the gun back and kept on executing, with undiminished accuracy, one criminal per shot.

  “Lascek!”

  Radomir Lascek looked back from the Solar Wind’s deck at the disabled craft that was once again bobbing on the waves. Stefano Gomez was calling him through the hatch.

  “Save it,” shouted Radomir Lascek. “I didn’t do that for you!”

  “Wait! Gina and I want to talk to you!”

  “Catch us up in Atuona,” said Lascek curtly.

  “Our drives are broken!”

  Radomir Lascek turned disgustedly and made a hand signal at his crew. Jon Marsden organized Rhine Gold, Ronan and Shawn into helping the Unicate Captain get his craft moored onto the Solar Wind. Captain Lascek disappeared below the hatch.

  Gina stepped aboard first, still clutching her weapon – the drain cleaner. Jon Marsden helped her onto the deck, then shook the hand of Stefano Gomez and demanded that he hand over his gun. Gomez complied.

  “Are we hostages?” asked Gina, concerned.

  “That depends,” said Jonathan Marsden pleasantly. “Please follow me.”

  Radomir Lascek had finished changing. He returned to the bridge and activated his com.

  “Where are they, Jon?”

  “In the boardroom.”

  “Leave them in Federi’s care,” said Lascek. “Report to the bridge.”

  “Federi’s still cleaning up, Captain. But these two don’t seem hostile…”

  Lascek bared his teeth. He could hear how the mind of his First Mate made a U-turn. Regardless of what they seemed, they weren’t allies. Never underestimate an enemy.

  “There’s Federi now,” said Marsden over the com. “I’m on my way.”

  Moments later he was on the bridge.

  “These two are a nuisance,” said Radomir Lascek. “What do we do now? Can’t carry on decrypting! And I need to know what Angelina left me…”

  Marsden nodded bitterly. That one would smart for a long time.

  “Aw, hell, we’ll turn them into pirates,” said Radomir Lascek with a decisive grin. “What choice do they have? Marsden, I’m counting on you and Sherman to get that stuff decoded. I take it you’ve informed Federi and Doc of Angelina?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come. You take the bridge. Course to Atuona is clear. We’ll take turns keeping them busy. Use every minute on the bridge, Jon. I’ll do the rest.”

  Radomir Lascek stood in the door of the boardroom, taking in the scene. Gina and Gomez had sat down at his fake pine table; Paean was serving laced coffees. The ship was still tilting quite a bit with the swells, which was why the cups were of the closed, thermos kind. Paean left the room straight after handing out coffees. She was still in disgrace and had more decks to scrub. Rushka had assumed her usual position by the door, taciturn and dangerous, her luscious red mane tucked out of sight under her black leather cap. Good girl! Radomir Lascek was inordinately proud of his daughter.

  “Federi,” he said, “you can carry on now, I’m here.”

  The gypsy, who had assumed an unassuming spot in the corner again, got up and stretched. All his double-jointed limbs crackled.

  “You don’t need me in here, Captain?”

  “No, it’s alright. There’s a lot to do.”

  “Shukar.” Federi disappeared out of the door.

  Radomir Lascek sat down at the boardroom table, making himself comfortable.

  “So, Gomez! What brings you all the way from Hamilton into the Pacific? Surely the bounty money can’t be that good!”

  “If I may ask, Lascek,” retorted Gomez. “Seeing that you are a hunted man, why help your pursuers? This is the second time I’ve seen you rescue Unicate marines!”

  Lascek smiled. The Irish game! Answering a question with another question! Maybe keeping them occupied wouldn’t be as tedious as he’d feared.

  “How did you get rid of Anya Miller?” he asked.

  Federi looked up from drying dishes. A little ghost with red hair and a lime-green scarf that needed a wash, hovered in the galley’s doorway.

  “Hello,” said Federi. “Sti
ll alive? Or has all that detergent dissolved you by now?”

  “I’ll never clone an illegal organism again,” said Paean with feeling. “If I’d had any idea how much cleaning it would cause me… and she doesn’t want to train me any further!”

  “Aw, no!” Federi frowned. Maybe Doc Judith didn’t quite understand the implications? Paean’s spell of cloning had been her revenge on the Unicate! But she needed to learn medicine, so she could come back from the dead.

  “That’s no good! Let me speak to her!” offered the gypsy.

  “Och, I don’t know, Federi… “ She fiddled with the ends of her shocking-green headscarf. “Don’t really know if I’m cut out for medicine anyway…”

  Despondency. If she only knew how much she was echoing his own state of mind… he didn’t have clearance to tell her about the demise of the RY Angelfish. Wouldn’t do her much good in any case. He sighed.

  “Listen, little luv. If there were someone who was really glum. What would you do about it?”

  “Ailyss?” asked Paean, her red eyebrows raised. “Give her St John’s Wort. Make a strong tea from it! Better, a tincture. Actually I ought to clone that herb into a bug as well, to concentrate the active stuff – really worked for the Valerian, didn’t it?”

  Federi laughed. “See? You’re cut out for medicine. You can’t resist it! ‘s in your blood! I’ll talk to Doc. Let me make you some coffee.”

  “Och, thanks, Federi, but no – got to talk to Ronan, he was wondering where I am.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, good luck, little songbird.”

  He followed her with his dark gaze. St John’s Wort. He’d secure some in Atuona. And then he’d darned well season the food with it for the next three weeks!

  “Gomez,” said Radomir Lascek, tired of the Irish game, “you understand one thing. I’d hate to become known as the babysitter of the Unicate’s long arm. So I shall tow you to Atuona, under condition that it’s a plain-clothes operation. There’s a shipyard there. Get your craft fixed up.”

  “Lascek, it’s appreciated,” said Gomez. “Let me ask you again: Why are you doing this?”

  “You have just abandoned your post and followed a pirate into the Pacific on a bounty hunt,” replied Lascek. “What will the Unicate do if you come back empty-handed?”

  “Lascek,” replied Gomez, “this is the thing. Anya Miller gets pardoned and promoted for such acts, but someone who is her superior in the structure, such as myself, can still face a traitor’s death. Explain this to me?”

  “How does that work?” asked Radomir Lascek, puzzled. It wasn’t an Irish question.

  “That,” said Gomez with emphasis, “is my whole point. What is going on inside the Unicate? Lascek, you’re an evasive old rogue. You’ve dealt with the Unicate for years now. Haven’t you noticed anything strange?”

  “If you don’t know,” said Radomir Lascek, “how should an outsider find out?”

  “I believe there’s a whole level of dealings there that even high ranks like myself know nothing about,” said Gomez. “Will you help me unravel that?”

  “So you don’t want me writing a terrible ship log for you and launching you back into your career where you left of?” asked Lascek with a wink at Gina.

  “You could do that?”

  “I’ve done it before,” smiled the Pirate Captain.

  Gomez nodded approvingly. “There is of course no going back,” he said.

  Gina stared at him, shock written across her whole face.

  “Getting into the navy was a mistake,” said Gomez. “There is no way out.”

  “This wasn’t about the Pirate,” said Gina, devastated. “Not the prize money and nothing!”

  “You’re right, Gina,” said Gomez with a tired little smile. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. It’s between me and the Unicate.”

  “Gina,” said Radomir Lascek, “Miss Nevada, is it?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “I can offer you safe passage back to civilized lands,” said Lascek. “We can concoct a story about a storm and a death and a passing trader picking you up. Your military career and record need not be touched by this episode!”

  “That is thoughtful!” said Stefano Gomez. “Lascek, I’d appreciate it if you could arrange that for Gina. All this is not her fault. I never gave her a choice.”

  “No,” said Gina. “Please don’t. I’ll stick with Captain Gomez. Didn’t know he was going to desert, but he’ll need the backup.”

  Lascek looked from Gina to the staggered Gomez and grinned.

  “That’s the way I like it!” he said. “True love!”

  He moved to the drinks cabinet and unearthed a bottle of brandy. It seemed to him that Gomez might be a useful contact after all.

  Later that night there was a knock on the Doc’s cabin door.

  “Come in,” she muttered distractedly. The death of Angelina had shaken her too.

  The Captain entered.

  “Could I ask you to have a quick look at something?” he asked. “If you don’t mind, Doc.” He led the way to the infirmary.

  The Doc followed, concerned. She noticed him walking with a very slight limp.

  “Right,” said Radomir Lascek and pulled the door closed. He sat down on the sternwards bunk and pulled up the one leg of his trousers. High up above the knee. He unwound a make-shift pressure bandage.

  “That’s nasty!” said the Doc. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  “I thought I could deal with it,” said the Captain.

  “That was one of Sancho’s rounds, right?” She looked at the bullet that had ripped into the Captain’s thigh. “I’m surprised you could walk at all!”

  Lascek grinned.

  “You men,” scolded the Doc. “You pirates with your fragile egos!” She took scissors and cut the seam of the Captain’s trousers open to get to the wound more easily. “Lie down! I’m operating this right away. Oh, hell, it would have been nice to have an assistant! Had such high hopes for Paean!”

  “Can’t you forgive her?” asked Lascek, stretching out on the bunk. “She’s added an amazing secret weapon to the Solar Wind’s arsenal. Jon had a look at the construction of that bug. It’s so small, it can’t mutate. Any mutation causes cell death. And it self-terminates. She took precautions! She wasn't all that irresponsible!”

  “But,” said the Doc, “she didn’t get clearance first.”

  “You’re right of course,” said Lascek, “but don’t punish that by killing her talent. I’d punish it with increased supervision and more work. Of the medical type,” he added. “She scrubbed herself to a standstill today. Drew the line at the rigging though. I believe the girl has a fear of heights.”

  “Federi also spoke to me on her behalf,” said the Doc pensively.

  “He talked me into allowing Rushka ashore,” growled the Captain. “In principle! Is the man on a knight-on-white-charger mission?”

  “With Federi you never know,” said the Doc. “Alright, Captain, if you wish it, I’ll take Paean back under my wing. She does have a natural talent for genetics. And a passion for medicine. She’s a carer, essentially.”

  Radomir Lascek smiled. “That’s better.”

  “We’ll have to work on bullet-proof pants for you,” said the Doc. “That was a risky manoeuvre. Just a few inches to the left…”

  “I know,” laughed Lascek. “The thought smarts!”

  15 - Atuona

  The Solar Wind was eating miles of azure sea between picturesque green mounds. Shawn hung in the Crow’s Nest in the mellow afternoon breeze, playing his ocarina. Federi came up the rigging and climbed into the lookout next to the boy.

  “Nice islands,” commented Shawn, pausing in his play.

  “The Treasure Islands of bygone eras,” said Federi. “Used to be paradise.”

  “Used to be? And nowadays?” asked Shawn.

  “Today they are cra
wling nests of all sorts of predators,” said Federi with a far-away look in his eyes. “There is bloodshed nearly every time we land here. Half of the time it has nothing to do with Captain’s ethics.”

  “What precisely are his ethics?” asked Shawn.

  “Never commit a crime. Unless you’ve got to,” said Federi. “More or less. There’s lots more, but I don’t want to overload you. We’ll still sit here tonight if I get started.” He glanced down. “There’s Gina!”

  Gina Nevada, tired of listening to the politicking of the two Captains, was ascending into the rigging too.

  “Gonna get cosy in the Crow’s Nest,” grinned Federi.

  “Want me to leave?”

  “Nu, for heavens’ sakes, Donegal!”

  It wasn’t as much of a squeeze as the Romany had predicted. The Crow’s Nest was roomy enough for three more people, thought Shawn.

  “Have you been in Atuona before?” Gina asked Shawn.

  “Nope. My first sea voyage. But he has,” and he indicated Federi.

  “ ‘s a filthy place,” said Federi dreamily. “Don’t go roaming on the beach, ‘s dangerous. Don’t get separated from the others. Don’t go drinking alone. Shawn, Gina, Captain’s orders: No womanising when ashore!”

  “So womanising aboard is okay?” grinned the boy.

  “Manising,” said Gina. “Captain Lascek says there’s no Unicate on these islands.”

  “That’s right – they can’t get their drugs sold there,” said Federi.

  “Drugs?!” gasped Gina, shocked.

  “But Precious,” said the Tzigan, “where do you think the name Unicate comes from? A unification of all the drug syndicates on Planet Earth!”

  “Shawn, don’t listen to him,” said Gina, incensed. “It’s not true! The Unicate is all the governments of the world, they got together one day and decided to stop all war, and we’ve got peace ever since! That’s the truth! I’ve studied history through Harvard!”

  “This was the correspondence course?” asked Federi with a smile.

  “It’s exactly the same as the full-time course on campus,” replied Gina tetchily. “What are you implying?”

  Federi gazed out into the distance, where the hazy sea met the hazy islands. His hand pulled something out of his pocket; he began to carve at it with his spring-loaded jack-knife.

  “I’m a Romanian Tzigan,” he said without looking up. “We’re part of that history. We know!”

  “So’s everyone on Earth,” retorted Gina. “What do you have against the Unicate anyway?”

  Federi stared out to sea. What did he indeed have against the Unicate? Except that they had hunted him relentlessly, and his family… except that they themselves were a huge wrong, and someone somewhere would have to fix it… except for what they were doing to Tzigany and Rroma as a group, fine-combing for a certain element…

  “I’m Tzigan,” he said. Didn’t that girl get it?

  “Oh, an ethnic gripe,” said Gina disgustedly.

  “Federi,” asked Shawn, “what have they done to your family?”

  …his family, ripped to pieces…

  Blood, everywhere.

  “Federi, you’ve cut yourself!”

  He stared at his hand, detached. His arms and legs climbed him out of the Crow’s Nest and down to the deck, and his feet walked him down through the hatch.

  Shawn stared after him.

  “He was shaking!” commented Gina. “What did you ask him?”

  “Nothing,” replied the young pirate. “Leave it!”

  Ronan was helping Dr Jake with the stock-take for the engine room. It was surprising how many things needed to be replenished. Even more amazing that the nuclear scientist actually talked!

  “We’re working on ways of deriving most of these substances from our surroundings,” explained Dr Jake. “Take the hydrogen for the fuel cells now. So expensive to purchase! Meanwhile it could be derived from the distilled water our desalination system generates. That’s what all those components are for,” and he pointed at Ronan’s list. “And we’re using organic refuse for the fuel cells too… the way they were originally designed, which has become a hushed-up secret. Not much longer, and the Solar Wind will be completely self-sustained.”

  “Even the nuclear drives?”

  Dr Jake shot Ronan a sharp glance.

  “Don’t you ever mention those to anyone, understood?” he ordered.

  “Okay,” promised Ronan, eyes wide. “And when we’re fully self-sustained, we’ll never need to go ashore again, right?”

  Dr Jake paused in the stock-take. He frowned at the Donegal, horrified. Never go ashore again? Up until this moment it had not occurred to him that that was what Captain might have in mind. Now it hit home.

  It would be right up Lascek’s alley, wouldn’t it? Frequenting Unicate-haunted pirate ports would not be a necessity anymore. Nothing to look forward to than more wind, sun and sea… He shuddered.

  They landed in a blue lagoon surrounded by a green, jungle-covered island. The Solar Wind’s sails furled. The anchor descended down into the depths.

  “Welcome to Hiva Oa,” declared Shawn loudly, seeing it for the first time himself. Rhine Gold and Wolf gravitated to the prow of the Solar Wind to gaze at the lush vegetation and sloping volcanic peaks.

  “Time to get down from here,” said Gina.

  Shawn looked around for his gypsy friend. Federi was nowhere in sight.

  “Federi?”

  The Romany looked up from putting the last dishes away. Paean Donegal, green scarf and all, hovered in the doorway watching him.

  There was such an intensity about that girl! He smiled at her.

  “Coffee for you, little sunbird?”

  “No, thanks. We’re going ashore, Shawney and I. Are you coming too?”

  “Nah.”

  “Not?”

  “Don’t like the land much,” said Federi. “ ‘s a stinky place. You’ll see.”

  She hung there, studying him. He smiled at her again.

  “But are you going to be okay, Federi?”

  He chuckled. “Little luv, this old piece of junk is in the habit of being okay.”

  “You’re not old, and you’re not junk,” said Paean sternly. “And there’s no harm in asking! Is there something I can get you?”

  It was very difficult to stay down around this little sunshine. She bullied one back into a better frame. Those people in Milly-Molly-Mandy Street had lost a treasure, Federi thought. Lucky Solar Wind.

  He shrugged. “Nothing really.”

  “Wanted to say thanks,” said Paean.

  “For what? What have I done?” Federi glanced about wildly. The redhead giggled.

  “For talking the Doc round. She’s taken me back into training.”

  “Aw! Great!” He grinned. “So that’s why you’ve been so scarce! Captain spoke for you too, you know.”

  “Captain did?”

  That smile was worth pure gold. Federi nodded, satisfied.

  “Look after your little brother, see? Don’t let him get up to trouble. ‘s a dangerous island for those who know how to look!”

  “Och! Trouble is his middle name!” Paean declared dramatically. “Later!” She waved and moved off. At a rate.

  “Kathal, little sunbeam,” said Federi quietly to her retreating back. He smiled. This time it actually originated from his insides.

  Unicate was death. Land was death. Damned Sancho was death – luckily he was dead now himself. Because too many people had died. There was death here in Atuona too. Sometimes death was like a cage around Federi. Part of life, sure, but just enough to make living impossible. But she helped him see past the bars to the outside, where the sun was shining.

  Jonathan Marsden supervised the two boats being crewed and casting off. Practically the whole young crew was on the boats, with the exception of Ailyss, Ronan who had volunteered
to keep an eye on Federi for his concerned sibs, and Rushka. Of the older crew, Doc Judith and Sherman were going along with Captain; and the Solar Wind’s guests, Gina and Gomez, on a mission to organize the repairs to the T-craft.

  He as First Mate was left in charge of the Solar Wind. It suited him, because he hadn’t yet given up trying to decrypt the stolen data. Jon Marsden didn’t give up easily on something like that. It would be insulting himself; furthermore it would be letting Angelina down, who had lost her life trying to tell them something.

  Behind him, Rushka appeared on the deck. She pulled her black leather cap off and shook her whole cascade of red hair free. They watched the boats move off.

  “Keep your eyes and ears pitched, Rushka,” said Jon Marsden. “Anything suspicious.”

  “That’s all I ever do these days,” said Rushka.

  “And believe me, it’s essential,” Marsden assured her. He gazed out at where the two boats were heading for the shore. “Captain predicts that he’ll marry those two before we set sail for Hawaii.”

  “He can only marry one of them,” laughed Rushka. “And I know they’re Unicate, but they’re not all that cute… Think I’ll have to call Gomez Mama?”

  “You know what I mean, little good-for-nothing!” grinned Marsden.

  “I know.” Rushka’s smile faded. “You know, Jon, when I was younger, I was allowed to make myself useful and scrub decks and help peel potatoes and all sorts of things. Now I’m allowed less and less! Shawn’s more useful than me, and he’s the ship’s mascot! Not even Federi will allow me to get my hands dirty with galley duty anymore!”

  “He’s following orders. You’re being groomed for Captain,” said Marsden. “Be patient, Rushka! One day the Solar Wind will be all yours, and the crew will be at your feet!”

  “Ha, yes – when I’m old,” said Rushka. “The Solar Wind is my father’s ship. When he’s as old as Sherman he’ll still be captaining her!” She sighed. “Lucky Gina! I wish I could plot my own course!”

  “But do you want to leave us?” asked Marsden. “Don’t you like us anymore, Rush?”

  “Och, you guys are my family, I love you all,” said Rushka. “But I only also want a deal like Gina! Freedom and a nice guy who loves me.”

  “Och, and I deduce the nice guy has already been selected?” asked Marsden, amused.

  Rushka blushed and confined her hair under her black cap again.

 

  Federi had said that land was a stinky place.

  Paean understood what he meant! On the ship there were smells too; from the frying fish in the galley to the chemical smell of the infirmary to the slight damp in the machine room. But over everything there was the constant, clean smell of the sea wind.

  Here? They had hardly landed and crossed the broad expanse of white rugged beach, and the pong of rubbish hit her. She held her breath and looked around for it. And she found it! It was lying and blowing all along the roads. Papers, empty beer cans, organic refuse of all sorts, drunken louts…

  The Rebellion was supposed to have replanted and repopulated this place? Well, it looked as though repopulation was still going on! She inserted herself between Shawney and a scene she seriously hoped he hadn’t spotted. Honestly, in plain view of the main street! And as for the plants – there were weeds everywhere, and a sort of unique tangled island jungle. If these trees were all younger than sixty years, they were fast-growing stuff! Paean wondered if there was genetic tampering involved.

  She and Shawn trudged after the older sailors down the main road. To the left, some run-down shops, some ramshackle houses a gust of wind could blow over, and in the background, the sea. To the right, more pubs and ramshackle houses; overgrown gardens with more half-passed-out parties going on; and in the background, the mountain. She peered up at it.

  Those slopes looked wild. Really wild. The jungle looked untouched. No ugly dwellings breaking it. She prodded Shawney.

  “Tomorrow,” she said and motioned. He agreed enthusiastically.

  “Federi said,” he started.

  Paean studied him. Nothing further came out.

  “What?”

  “No womanising,” laughed Shawn. “No drinking alone! No – och, he was so full of rules, it was weird.”

  Paean shrugged. “Wonder what’s eating him.”

  “Make me some coffee, my friend.”

  Jon Marsden stood in the doorway to the galley. Federi moved automatically to the coffee machine and created an espresso for his friend.

  “How’s the programming going?”

  “Frustrating, Federi. Not much coming out of it. Feels as though I’m missing a whole key for the information. Feels as though there’s actual data missing.”

  “And the box from the Angelfish?”

  “Yes,” said Marsden. “She didn’t know that much more than us, but basically she suspected things. A rift in the Rebellion.”

  Federi nodded, thinking about the sanguine blonde Angelina who wasn’t ever going to grace the world with her laughter and crude jokes anymore. One more friend down. They were all doomed anyway.

  “But the core issue…”

  Marsden sighed. “They’re all beating about the bush. Wish I could get close enough to see what bush it is. Had some glimpses of some really poisonous words, but that’s all.”

  “Worrying,” said Federi, sticking the coffee into his friend’s hand. He glanced out of the portside porthole.

  Marsden followed his glance to the green shores. “Going ashore, my friend?”

  “We’ll see,” said the Tzigan with a frown. “Not today.”

 

  The sun had disappeared behind the volcano. A long shadow hung over the beach; further out though the sunlight was still dancing on the blue waves. Paean stared at the sea.

  She and Shawn had watched the loading of potatoes and coffee until they were blue with boredom; they had hurried up and waited around the shops in the main street until there were no shops left to wait around. She had bought her little brother an ice cream, a childhood dream from Molly Street; he had bought her a two-piece swimsuit in turquoise and blue with an illegally bright pink stripe across and a sarong to match.

  “Come,” said Shawn. Paean followed him away from the wooden quay where goods were packed onto the Stormrider, and along the white sandy beach.

  The sea levels had been much higher than today; but first, they had been lower. Corners and edges of broken buildings stuck out of the sand; once Paean slipped and scrambled a bit as the sand rolled away under her feet into a buried room. It was a strange feeling to walk on this sunken town; she thought of Herculaneum and Pompey, cities buried in volcanic outbursts. There was an eerie sense of time to these ruined structures.

  “Look,” Shawney called from further up. “Tracks!”

  She hurried up and joined him. She had to laugh.

  “Yes. Human tracks.” She followed the trail with her eyes, right to the edge of the undergrowth. “Signs of human habitation, too!”

  “Visitation,” corrected Shawn. She understood. In his creative mind he was currently on another planet.

  She went closer to that heap of old rags and beer cans. That was odd! Was that a label? She picked up one of the dirty rags and looked closely, and let it go with a scream.

  Stuck to the piece of clothing was a single, dried-out human finger.

  16 - High Stakes

  The room was full of smoke, curling up to the low ceiling where it billowed and twirled around itself.

  There was a dance floor, but nobody really knew why. People didn’t dance in a crummy joint such as this, in Atuona. Canned music from the previous two decades thumped out of an archaic speaker system which was luckily so old that the din of conversation drowned it out.

  Wolf had been in this pub before. The Dirty Dog. Today he was teaching Rhine Gold the ropes; the young German needed to learn how to make
a bit of money on the side, being a pirate. They’d had a go at this before, in Dublin Port; but the Unicate had been a serious hindrance, closing pubs at ten and chasing the patrons home with penalties. For those who only got off from their shift at eight, until ten was not really enough time to get drunk enough for this game.

  Plymouth had been a dead loss. They had only gone as far as coffee houses. Captain had been too nervous at the point, having to find a way through Panama. Well, Wolf hoped that they wouldn’t have to go that way again in a long time.

  But Atuona now – that was the real place to teach someone how to be a complete pirate! Here there were no rules. You could stay in the pub all night, and they didn’t mind, because people did anyway. Plenty of opportunity to make good money.

  Wolf himself had learnt from the best – Federi and Marsden. There was always a new trick to be learnt from the gypsy. Then again, the First Mate knew the rules of the game so well he had taught Wolf how to stay within them and still win, reliably, almost every time. And to watch out for Tzigan tricks.

  Federi had elected to stay aboard tonight; Marsden was elsewhere altogether, with the Captain, conducting some political business. But Wolf was good at this by now. He needed no more help.

  He raised his voice over the general din, placing his playing cards face-up on the round table with the filthy red-chequered table cloth.

  “Gotcha,” he grinned smugly. “Again!”

  Paean drifted into the galley.

  “What’s for supper?”

  There was Ronan, drunk as a lord, trying to teach Federi, equally far gone, how to play the bagpipes. They were hanging more than sitting around the Ironwood Table and making the most awful racket. Federi caved in with laughter every time he tried to get a noise out of the infernal instrument.

  “Tortured duck,” Ronan shouted. “Do the Tortured Duck again!”

  Federi produced something that wasn’t quite a note.

  Ronan shook his head. “That was the flatulent elephant.”

  “It was the tortured duck,” argued Federi, swigging directly from the bottle of rum and handing it to Ronan, who followed suit. “Or possibly the Squashed Python.”

  “Ronan!” shouted Paean, dismayed. “Federi! You guys are totally drunk! I can’t believe you guys! What kind of example are you setting for Shawn?”

  Federi stared at her for a few seconds, left eyebrow raised. “Hey! You’re back aboard!”

  “Get off of yer high horse, Pae,” said Ronan amiably, holding the bottle for her. “Come on, get your chainsaw and join the Ceilidh!”

  Paean turned on her heels, disgusted. Drunkenness ashore, drunkenness aboard – wait! They were breaching Captain’s rules!

  “You’re breaking Captain’s rules, drinking like that!” she shouted at them. By now Ronan had unpacked his concertina that he had bought in Plymouth and was trying to compete with the rude noises Federi got out of the bagpipes.

  “ ‘s what the stuff is for, little luv,” replied the gypsy. Paean wasn’t quite sure if he was referring to the rules or the rum. “Was the shore fun?”

  “No! That’s a stinky place!”

  Federi grinned. Paean turned tail and ran off in search of Shawn. She had to warn him to stay out of the galley! She felt badly let down by Ronan. And as for Federi – well… This was a lesson she seemed to have to learn repeatedly. He was just a rotten old Tzigan! A rotten young Tzigan, rather. No less rotten.

  “Haha,” said Ronan. “Great show, Federi! Sorry, man, she gets like that sometimes!”

  Federi stared after the little redhead, scowling. That had been an overreaction!

  “You’ll have to focus now, Federi,” scolded Ronan. “Can’t let Sherman win this bet!”

  Shawn trundled into the galley, his curiosity peaked by Paean’s ominous warning.

  “What are you guys doing?”

  “Shh,” said Federi, grinning. “It’s a secret.”

  “Yip, we’ve made a bet,” said Ronan. Federi glared at him. Donegal, he thought, learn the definition of ‘secret’!

  “Och, let me in on it,” begged Shawn.

  “Alright. We’re betting whether Paean can be made to climb into the Crow’s Nest,” grinned Ronan. Federi listened up. This was not a bet he was aware of having made!

  “Pigs might fly,” replied Shawn caustically.

  “Pirates must face their fears,” said Federi, frowning. “Shawn, help yourself to food, it’s all over there!”

  There was a buffet of scrumptious-smelling food prepared, keeping warm on the stove. Shawn wondered why the Romany considered himself a lousy cook.

  “Everyone eats as they come in tonight,” said Federi.

  “Except Paean,” grinned Ronan.

  “Except Paean, it turns out,” agreed Federi. “ ‘s not my fault,” he said in answer to Shawn’s accusing stare. “She took one look at the food and turned tail.”

  “Actually she was looking at you,” laughed Ronan.

  Federi smiled and shook his head. “Wonder how much of the crew is actually coming back aboard at all tonight.”

  Ronan nodded sagely, grinning.

  “They want to drink all night?” asked Shawn. “Or are they out looking for predators?”

  “Actually…” started Ronan.

  “Dead right,” said Federi, pan-faced. “They drink all night. Grown-ups sometimes do that. And play cards.” He refrained from telling the two Donegal brothers that, despite of what Ronan was thinking and broadly grinning about, that was actually exactly what they were doing – and cleaning the local populace out of cash on the way.

  Because looking for predators was prohibited by the Captain’s rules.

  “Did you not want to go ashore too, Federi?” asked Shawn. “Drink all night too?”

  “Ha!” Federi’s eyes rolled skywards. “And look for predators! No, thanks! I can drink right here if I want to! No need to go ashore for that!” He laughed.

  Paean dug herself into her bunk, making a wall with her pillow. She didn’t want to go and play along with the Ceilidh. She didn’t want to study. She didn’t want to see her brother! She was deeply disgusted.

  Atuona had come as a shock. You carried images of tropical island paradises in your impressionable teen heart, and then, when you arrived at the place, it turned out to be a worse dump than downtown Dublin. And with unknown nasties running wild!

  And then you returned to the safety of the ship and found that the rot had spread - that people you’d thought of as decent, Ronan and Federi, were just bums on the inside as well. Wolf had turned out to be an uncouth ruffian, despite his education. Rhine Gold had this arrogant way about him. Rushka was remote. She didn’t associate at all, whether by choice or by orders. And Federi – well, he was really just a gyppo loser. And pulling her brother down into it!

  Paean had grown up a bit today.

  She got up. Blast them all. She padded along the passage until she found Ailyss in her cabin. She hung around that cabin for a while, trying to have a chat with Ailyss without talking too much. This was complex. Eventually the older girl lent her a spy novel and sent her back to bed. Paean was not going to be picky about this. She read until she fell asleep.

  In the Dirty Dog, the atmosphere was getting a bit prickly.

  “He cheats,” said the man called Cairns, who claimed to be a scientist but ran a pawn shop down-town. He pointed a finger at Wolf.

  “He doesn’t cheat,” said Wolf. “His name is Wolf Svendsson, and Wolf Svendsson is honest! I’ve won this, fair and square, now hand over your chips and let’s get on with the game!”

  Rhine Gold grinned.

  “I know about you pirates,” said Cairns. “Call yourself honest! Ha!” He added a few slippery expletives.

  “Tell them, Rhine Gold,” challenged Wolf.

  “Nah – he’s honest, guys. Well, most of the time!”

  “Thanks!�
�� Wolf frowned. “I think.”

  After the Donegal brothers had eaten, they moved the Ceilidh out onto the deck. It was cooler here. Glorious stars spangled the skies. Now and then vague noises carried over from the land above the surf. Land was noisy! Ronan and Shawn played their tunes; Federi studied the stars and listened, and worried. He didn’t have a very good feeling about Wolf and Rhine Gold out gambling alone.

  Rushka appeared soundlessly on the deck and chose a spot nearby Ronan, who was oblivious to her. Federi greeted her with a smile and a wink; a greeting she returned. Och! So the Princess was thawing under the Donegal magic, thought Federi.

  “I declare this round invalid,” said Cairns loudly. His friend, Ethel Sloan, agreed heartily. It was the third round of five that they declared invalid.

  “On what grounds?” asked Wolf. Poker was poker, damn them! He had played decently; if they simply declared each round they did not win as invalid, that was as good as cheating!

  “On the grounds that you’ve been taught this game by a gypsy, and there’s no telling what tricks you use to get the good cards!”

  “Who taught me the game is irrelevant,” said Wolf. “The rules are simple enough! Not my fault that you don’t know how to bluff! But I play it honestly!”

  “Yes, sure – like the Tzigan!” laughed Sloan. “That pathological long-finger!”

  “Radomir Lascek’s little assassin,” added Cairns, raising his voice.

  A silence descended. Heads turned. The golden oldies hammering out of the ancient DJ-system were suddenly audible again.

  Wolf felt the stares of the whole patronage of the Dirty Dog on him.

  “Take that back, you damned dirty dog,” he said dangerously, getting to his feet. “Take it back now!”

  “It’s true!” laughed Cairns. “You’re denying it? What else are you denying?”

  Shut this loudmouth up right now, thought Wolf. His fist slipped. He had a long arm, a fairly hairy one. On the end of it sat a solid piece of machinery, honed by working with heavy equipment, sails, drives, spanners and computers every day. And a fair amount of flying the Solar Wind before tropical storms. This piece connected with Cairn’s jaw, all the way across the table. The man was flung backwards and his chair overturned, the rough cement floor dealing his skull a second blow from the other side. Cairns’ loud mouth had effectively been shut up.

  The pseudo-scientist tried getting up. Wolf was already towering over him, fists up. He had knocked over the table to get to the ruffian faster. Cairns was no midget himself. Rhine Gold moved his chair back a bit to be out of the fray.

  A knife flashed. Wolf saw it in time and twisted the other guy’s hand back on itself. With a scream, Cairns dropped the knife. Wolf kicked it out of reach.

  “Take back what you said!” he challenged.

  Cairns kicked Wolf’s knees out under him. They both went down in a wrestle, dealing kicks and punches, each trying to get a better grip on the other. Cairns’ arm got Wolf around the neck in a single Nelson. Wolf was too angry to understand the implications: The other could technically break his neck. But the young engineer was thinking with his crocodile brain; his head jerked back reflexively and caught Cairns sharply on the nose. With a scream Cairns let go. Wolf used this respite to turn about and grip his collar, winding up his fist for the next good one. He was faster, stronger and bigger. Cairns would have to yield any second now.

  Cairns reached behind himself and found a beer bottle. His hand closed around it and he smashed it on the ground. Wolf didn’t miss the point this time. His opponent was armed now, he held a jagged-edged bottle-neck in his hand.

  For the stink in Atuona! This guy was actually trying to kill him! Wolf pushed him over again and kneeled on his hand, prizing the shard free and flinging it away. Thugs, all of them! He loved a good punch-up; but this man was fighting dirty. Clearly an experienced heavy. He’d believe him the archaeologist when he saw him digging up finds!

  Now would be the right moment to pick the guy up by his collar and his belt and throw him head-first out of the pub. But Wolf had a score to settle, and once he was angry, he didn’t give up until he got what he wanted.

  “You’ve still got to take it back!” he shouted, his fist loaded and poised. “Take it back about Federi!”

  On the deck of the Solar Wind the gypsy listened up.

  “Quiet!” he hushed the two Donegal brothers. They paused in their music.

  “Pub brawl,” said Federi. They strained to hear over the sound of the surf.

  The voices from the pub became louder and louder. Two crystallized out of the rest, shouting at each other with passion, interlaced with angry screams.

  “Blood will flow any moment now,” predicted Federi. Sure enough, just then a shot cracked. They listened in fascination. A second shot echoed across to them; followed by a scream.

  “Rhine Gold,” said Federi, getting to his feet in a swift movement. “We’ll have to wake up the Doctor. She’ll have to stitch.”

  “How on Earth did he hear that?” Ronan asked incredulously. “How could he tell it’s one of ours?”

  “He just knows. Got this gypsy radar,” replied Rushka from the shadows and clammed up again.

  Wolf stared up at his opponent, confused. He had lost his footing and gone down; an ideal opportunity for Cairns to pitch right in and descend on him, except he didn’t. He had scurried back a few paces. There was a wrestling knot around Sloan. Rhine Gold screamed; but nobody was attacking him. He was staring at Wolf in horror. Man, did the guy have a voice! If he didn’t make it as a pirate, he could still become a town crier, thought Wolf.

  A third shot cracked, and this time the nuclear engineer heard it consciously. That was the one that went wide, of everything and everyone, because the gun was already halfway out of Ethel Sloan’s grip. Something warm dripped on Wolf’s hand. The bullet, he thought illogically and glanced down. No, wrong. Just plain old blood.

  “You’re shot,” said Rhine Gold, pale as a blank screen.

  Pain registered. Wolf glanced at his knee. He grinned. “Oh bum!”

  All he could think of this moment was Doc Judith’s angry face.

  Federi knocked on Doc Judith’s cabin door, the two Donegal brothers in tow.

  “Doc, they’re bringing in one of ours. Bin in a brawl.”

  “Who?”

  “Not sure yet.” He had heard Rhine Gold scream. But that didn’t mean that Rhine Gold was the injured one!

  Doc Judith could guess. Whom did she have to suture up after every darned pub fight? For once the doctor was fed up with stitching brawling pirates.

  “Get the Captain to jolly well forbid that Wolf to set foot ashore! – And tell Paean to patch him, she needs the practice,” she said curtly, and closed her cabin door in their faces.

  Federi glanced at Shawn, then at Ronan. What now?

  “Wake her up,” said the older brother.

  They woke Paean up by pounding loudly on her cabin door. She opened the door, wearing ducky pyjamas and a sour frown.

  “There’s a problem, little songbird,” Federi began. He lapsed into puzzled silence seeing her expression.

  “You rats are sober!” she shot.

  Federi’s eyebrows reached for the sky. “Is that a problem? Want us drunk, rather?”

  Shawn exploded into laughter.

  “Why did you and Ronan make me think you were drunk, Federi?” Paean asked accusingly.

  “It was worth the look on your face, lil sister,” grinned Ronan. “I told Federi you’d be shocked; he wouldn’t believe it; so we made a bet.”

  “You made a bet!” Paean sounded almost more disgusted than before. In fact she felt embarrassed and was covering it with temper.

  “Sorry, Paean,” smiled Federi, amused. He didn’t even realize how piratical he looked as he considered. Pigs might fly? His gutsy little green pirate had been made a fool
of. Her brothers clearly enjoyed this. In honesty Federi hadn’t believed Ronan that she’d overreact like that. What if he showed them some flying pigs tonight? It would certainly boost Paean. He owed it to her.

  Was there time? The shore party would have to get the injured sailor back to the Lawnmower, and then it would take a few minutes to cross from the shore to where the Solar Wind lay anchored… Yes, there was time to fly some pigs and win a quick bet!

  She was eyeing him with suspicion.

  “Go put on your green scarf, quick.”

  Paean rushed inside her cabin and tied the scarf around her head.

  “Stick to the rules, man!” warned Ronan, picking up on what the gypsy had in mind. “You’re not allowed to tell her the bet until you’ve won or given up! Telling her is giving up.”

  “I always stick to the rules,” lied Federi. Paean appeared, green scarf and all.

  Federi grinned. Lime-green scarf on red hair… Oh, that compulsion for teasing people!

  “Ah, good. Pirate Paean. Now follow me.”

  Paean followed Federi and her brothers onto the deck. She was still fuming; they had tricked her! A bet! Well, at least it was better than her brother and her friend genuinely turning into drunken losers!

  Federi moved ahead and into the rigging. Paean stopped. Ha! Gotcha! He was out to expose her fear of heights! The rat!

  “Come on now,” called the gypsy.

  She stared at the wonky structure, the way it swayed slowly with the rise and fall of the swells and laughed cynically. “Kidding!”

  “Paean, come up! Can only see it from up here.”

  “Nyet!” said Paean. “Your left foot!”

  The entertainer climbed back down.

  “You’ve never been up there, have you!”

  “Surprise,” Shawn said softly behind her.

  “No,” said Paean decisively, drawing herself up to her full, not very tall height with dignity and folding her arms. “And I’m not going to start now! Not every sailor needs to turn into a Great Ape!”

  “Alright, look here,” said Federi quietly, taking her by the wrist and leading her away from her brothers. “Thing is,” he started.

  She stared into those dark hypnotic eyes. “You guys can quit making fun of me right now,” she suggested tightly. “What’s the point anyway?”

  “Not making fun of you, Paean,” said the Tzigan. He smiled mischievously. “There’s something I want to tell you,” he added under his breath. “Away from that infantile lot!”

  Seconds passed. Paean weighed it up. Freezing hells! To hear his secret, she had to go up there! The gypsy’s stare was still locked with hers. Ronan was making loud coughing noises in the background. What was this?

  Well, hell with Ro as well! She’d show them! To the speechless amazement of her two brothers, Paean climbed after Federi into the rigging, clinging as it swayed gently with the waves. It wasn’t so bad after all. Her eyes narrowed as she looked up determinedly and slowly clambered all the way into the Crow’s Nest.

  Federi was waiting for her with a unique grin of elation.

  “I knew it! Knew you had it in you!” He was beaming. She grinned back at him, catching her breath. It had been interesting going up. She wasn’t going to think about going down yet. She gripped the rim of the Crow’s Nest and looked at the stars. They were tangibly close from up here.

  “We did it wrong,” said the gypsy, alarmed. “Oh hell! Federi forgot about lifelines! Little luv, never ever come up here without a line!”

  “Okay,” said Paean. “Promise. Say, what was that you wanted to tell me?”

  “Aw,” said Federi with a skew grin, “can’t tell you!”

  “Hey!” This wasn’t right! “Out with it! Fair’s fair! I’ve already paid the price!”

  Federi sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

  “Made a bet with your brothers that I’d get you to climb up here,” he admitted.

  “Aargh! I knew it! You pirate!” She attacked him, pummelling him with her small, bony fists. Federi laughed and caught her by the wrists.

  “Hey, look! Look up! Aren’t the stars beautiful from up here?”

  She wrestled with him, trying to get him to release her. Eventually she gave up and laughed too.

  Federi reached up and stretched and picked a star out of the night sky and presented it to her. She gasped. In his hand lay a tiny silver thing on a fishhook.

  “What’s that?”

  “The other half. Don’t let Ronan destroy that one too!”

  She picked the little transmitter up out of his hand. “What do I do with it?”

  “I don’t know. Keep it. Put it on your scarf.” He smiled.

  “Aw, Federi!” She grinned and attached the little piece of equipment without a function to her lime-green scarf. “You’re a hopeless case! All this to win a rotten old bet? You guys woke me up for this? I’ll get you all back when you’re not watching!”

  “Actually that’s not it.” The Romany got serious again. “Look out there.”

  A droning hum carried over across the waves. It had been there before, but Paean only noticed it now.

  “The Lawnmower’s coming back?”

  “There was a fight,” said Federi. “We heard shots. They’re bringing someone in. Wolf or Rhine Gold. I hope it’s not too serious.”

  Paean whistled through her teeth. “Sheer!” She looked up at Federi, scared.

  “You’re the paramedic,” he said. “I’ll help you. We’re going to patch the injured one up. If it’s critical, we wake up Doc Judith. But if it’s not that bad, we’ll cope by ourselves, see?”

  Going down the rigging was an adventure in its own right. Grip by grip, Paean felt her way back down. The Lawnmower was already being moored alongside when she finally stood on the deck again, all her muscles quivering.

  “Was that Paean up there in the Crow’s Nest?” asked Rhine Gold as they lifted Wolf aboard. The nuclear engineer’s face was twisted into a brave grin.

  “Trick o’ the light,” said Shawn. Rhine Gold and Ronan supported Wolf to the infirmary.

  Paean ran ahead to prepare things. She washed her hands and straightened one of the two bunks, the left one on the prow-side wall. The three strapping young sailors pushed in through the door, Wolf hobbling between the other two. She stared at him, horrified. He looked like hell. She backed away and gave the others space to help him onto that bunk.

  Half his face was drenched in blood; all of it was contorted and white with pain. Rhine Gold and Ronan stepped back; Federi chased them out of the infirmary, giving them orders for something or other. Paean bent over her patient to figure out what was going on. She got a close-up look at those sea-green eyes and her stare locked with his.

  This was not the moment to chew him out for drinking and stinking. She filled a bowl with lukewarm water and rinsed the blood off his cheek with gauze so she could see where the damage was. She was burning to ask what had happened; but darned if she’d make small-talk with this one!

  Wolf was equally speechless. He watched her as she worked. Didn’t it worry her that all that water and blood was seeping into the pillow? Hadn’t she noticed his knee? The major source of blood and mess and pain?

  “Be brave now,” she bit out through clenched teeth and dabbed some iodine tincture on his cheek. She looked at Federi, who was supervising.

  “Looks like a bullet has scraped him there,” said the Romany. He approved of the minimal talking policy. “But I’d take a look at that knee, little songbird.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Paean. “I’ll stitch up the cheek, that looks easier, then it’s done and then I can focus on the knee.”

  “If you’re going to stitch you may want anaesthetic,” said Federi. He indicated the drawer. She found the right stuff and injected Wolf’s cheek. Federi handed her a mask and gloves, which she compliant
ly put on. He opened a sterile pack of instruments for her. She nodded her thanks and picked the suturing needle, threading it.

  Wolf watched with wide eyes, a feeling of unreality descending over him. His cheek was being stitched up in perfect silence by this young kid here – and no lecturing, resonating, scolding Doc Judith!

  Rhine Gold stuck his head through the door.

  “Captain and Marsden back aboard, Federi.”

  “Good.”

  “How’s it going in here?”

  “You!” Paean put her suturing needle down and glared at Rhine Gold. “Drunk, stinky lout! Go and breathe your sticky breath on some other victim! Push off!”

  Rhine Gold fled.

  “Honestly,” huffed Paean and returned to her suturing. Wolf’s eyes went one notch wider.

  “That was unnecessary,” said Federi quietly.

  “Was it?” retorted Paean. Federi lapsed into worried silence.

  She finished the cheek and sealed it off with a generous helping of frightening red iodine ointment and a big white bandage. Then she turned her attention to Wolf’s knee.

  “I’ll need scissors,” she said vaguely. The next moment they were placed into her hand. She nodded acknowledgement and cut Wolf’s jeans open from the bottom end. Wolf made a movement to object.

  “The hell are you going to take your pants off,” snapped Paean. “Keep still!” She cut the jeans away all the way past the knee. Then she looked at the mess.

  “Oh my God.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and shook her head. “Wolf, it’s going to be general anaesthetic. Not doing this under local. Too deep.”

  “What the hell is going on there, actually?” asked Wolf, straining to sound friendly.

  “A bloody mess,” retorted Paean. She took off gloves and mask and charged off to the upper crew deck. Federi shrugged. He had no idea what the little wildcard had in mind.

  Several minutes later she was back, a half-empty bottle of rum and a glass in her hands. She poured a bit of rum into the glass and fished a vial out of her moonbag. This she cracked open and tipped its powdered contents into the glass.

  “Drink,” she ordered and handed the whole affair to Wolf.

  “What is it?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Anaesthetic.”

  He downed it. The pain faded out, swept out of him by an overwhelming wave of tiredness. He glanced at Federi, and at little Paean…

  “Done!” Paean looked up and straightened out. It was long past midnight. Shawn had come in some while back, to keep them company. Even though he didn’t say anything, his presence was reassuring.

  They’d had to dose Wolf a second time when he started coming to in the middle of the operation. It had lasted longer than three and a half hours.

  Paean glanced at the discarded cotton wool and the bowl with bloody water. And suddenly she slipped to the floor.

  “Flying pigs!” Federi shot to his feet. “What now?” He checked the little redhead’s vital signs. Shawn bent over her too.

  “I think she can’t handle blood,” the youngest Donegal commented.

  “She’s timed it well,” said Federi approvingly. He checked on the still unconscious Wolf, then picked Paean up off the floor like a child and carried her down the passage to her cabin. He tucked her into her bunk.

  “Brave little songbird,” he muttered as he closed the door.

  “That she is,” agreed her proud little brother. “Totally brave.”

  17 - Savage Wolf

  Sherman Dougherty looked up from the console screen. Pale purple dawn was fading in over the lagoon. His eyes were twitching from too much console work.

  Radomir Lascek had just arrived on the bridge.

  “How’s it going here?”

  “Same,” said Sherman despondently. “Captain, Jon and I have been hacking at this thing for days now. I’m ready to throw in the towel! I’m positive there’s some more information we need, in order to decrypt that capsule.”

  Radomir Lascek nodded. He’d almost dared to hope that his brilliant information genii would manage. But deep down he had known from the first, when Marsden had been unable to crack the code right away.

  “We’ll put it on ice,” he suggested. “Carry on at Prime Oil. Maybe Vincent has learnt a trick we don’t know yet.”

  Sherman shrugged. “I suspect we’d have to break into the headquarters of the Unicate to find the answer to that one!”

  “Anything more out of the log of the Angelfish?”

  Sherman shook his head. “She didn’t know much. The informant wasn’t going to endanger her by telling her too much.”

  “Fat help that was,” sighed Lascek. “Both died anyway.”

  They both lapsed into thoughtful silence for a minute.

  “Gomez and Gina?” prodded Sherman eventually.

  Radomir Lascek grinned.

  “I’ve committed matrimony on those two. Was interesting. Just as she was about to tell him ‘I do’, couple of shots cracked. Put her off her track. She said ‘I think so’ instead.”

  Sherman chuckled. “Was she a pretty bride?”

  “As pretty as they get in their Stab uniforms,” replied Lascek. “Was an emergency wedding.”

  “Is she…”

  “No, they’re deserting together. Guess what they want to call their craft.”

  Sherman shook his head.

  “The Black Star,” said Radomir Lascek with a grin. “And I asked them – I’ve always wondered –what does the T in T-craft stand for.”

  “What does it?”

  “Terminator,” said Radomir Lascek, and he and Sherman doubled over with laughter.

  Shawn and Federi were in diving gear, ready to go explore the reefs in the lagoon. Federi instructed Shawn on the correct way of wearing the mask, and primed him on several details of diving. The kid was fast on the uptake.

  Wolf came through the hatch, hanging onto the rail of the steps, looking like a bomb blast zone.

  “Going diving?” he asked.

  “You can’t come,” said Federi shortly with a glance at Wolf’s bandaged knee. “Go ask Ronan for bagpipe lessons if you’re bored!”

  Wolf spat onto the deck. It sizzled. “I’m not bored,” he said. “Just asking!”

  “No spitting,” said Federi automatically. “Or else you’ll…” er. He couldn’t force Wolf in his current state to scrub the deck! Chancer!

  “Hey!” complained Shawn. “I’ll have to clean that!”

  Federi studied the savage Wolf. An enormous white gauze strip had been pasted over the sutures on his cheek, where the second bullet had grazed him. If he but knew it, the seam underneath looked like those poor chicken carcasses that had been through Paean’s hands. His right knee was thickly bandaged. It had been shattered by the first shot.

  How on Earth was that sailor managing to walk on that?

  “Get back into Sick Bay,” ordered Federi. He let himself fall overboard backwards. It was a long drop down. As he surfaced, he saw that Shawn was getting ready to copy the movement.

  “Don’t, Shawn,” yelled Federi, spitting out his mouthpiece. “Stay right where you are!” He shimmied up the rungs and climbed back aboard. “That move is just for old pros,” he explained. “It’ll knock your breath out. Come with me.”

  Shawn grudgingly followed Federi down the rungs.

  “And I’m a show-off, but I’m not old!” cautioned the Romany with a grin.

  “I didn’t say anything!”

  “You were thinking it very loudly.”

  Wolf went in search of Paean, working his way along the storm rails that lined all the corridors. His knee felt as though a swarm of termites had made its nest there and was eating it from inside. It made the throbbing pain in his cheek nearly a pleasure.

  Why the hell had that guy Cairns tried to kill him? Since he had come to at dawn from the pain, he’d been lying wondering about
this. A knife, a Nelson, a broken bottle? And then Sloan with his gun, aiming at his leg – oy, possibly at some other features, thought Wolf uneasily; and then at his head? That had been attempted murder! For what? Winning in poker?

  It was Paean who had stitched him up; maybe she could tell him what was going on! Today she was wearing her shocking-green scarf again. It made her easy to find. He spotted her on the upper crew deck, miles away in the galley, stacking plates. He hailed her. She gifted him a defiant glare and trotted up.

  “What have you done to my knee?”

  “I rescued your leg,” replied Paean curtly. “Maybe I should have amputated.” She peered at his face with her baby-blue eyes. He wasn’t a good face-reader. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “Get thee back to the infirmary! I’ll give you a painkiller.”

  Unfriendly wench. He wondered what had happened to the little blue-eyed wonder who had come seeking him out in the machine room, half infatuated with him. Or had he misread that? Freaking rabbits, but he could do without more hostility today!

  She made him drag his wounded leg all the way back to the infirmary, just so she could dig in the drawers there. The stuff she produced eventually was folded precariously in bits of paper; it presented as a grainy white powder.

  “What’s that?” asked Wolf.

  “Painkiller,” she snapped.

  He eyed it with suspicion. “Your own concoction?”

  “No, it’s a pharmaceutical recipe.”

  Wolf swallowed the powder, shaking himself with revulsion. “It’s acid!”

  “Salicylic acid,” Paean said. “Purified from willow bark powder.”

  Willow flying bark! “It doesn’t do anything!” At least, he hoped it wouldn’t! Not the kind of thing he suspected it might. Like that darned wonder bug in rum, yesterday! He vaguely recalled coming to in the middle of surgery, whimpering like a baby and begging for another dosage.

  This kid was dangerous! She should come with a label, with a skull-and-crossbones and a cautionary note saying “toxic teen”.

  “You’ll have to wait five minutes,” said Paean impatiently. “Honestly! I don’t think you ought to be walking on that yet! The wound is too fresh. Give it some time to heal.”

  “I’m a man, not a whimpering little girl,” growled Wolf. “There’s things I’ve got to take care of!”

  Whoops. Wrong wording. He saw how she charged up her fist, then changed her mind. Why? Because it would pop some stitches, no doubt.

  “Well, big strong man, then how about, you come into the galley and I’ll make you some coffee,” smiled Paean, suddenly sweet as sugar. He stared at her with caution. Hells, coffee sounded good, but that quick about-turn? He limped and hobbled and crawled after her to the galley, wishing he could get his hands on a crutch. Or a stick. Whatever.

  “Gunshots,” said Marsden. “Well-aimed too, by the looks. Concerning!”

  “According to Rhine Gold, that wasn’t all,” Rushka reported. “A knife, a broken glass bottle. At some point the guy had Wolf’s head in a breakneck grip. That was attempted murder, no less!”

  Jon Marsden frowned. He knew they ought to investigate this! Cairns? He had never heard that name in Atuona before! Nor, Ethyl Sloan! And Atuona was not that large.

  “Think they’re in any way connected with that Sancho?” he asked.

  “Not impossible,” said Rushka. “We ought to investigate!”

  “We do nothing, Rushka! I’ll look into it with Federi tonight! You stay well away. Understood?”

  “Captain’s daughter and less of a say than the cleaner,” grumbled Rushka.

  “Who, precisely, is the cleaner on this ship?” asked Marsden, nonplussed.

  Rushka grinned. “All of us?”

  Jon Marsden turned back to his programming. Rushka briefly touched his shoulder in greeting as she got up and left him alone so he could get on with it.

  Sherman had thrown in the towel. That stood to reason. But he’d be absolutely blasted and doomed if he’d give an inch! He’d wrench this forsaken capsule’s secrets from its innards with his bare hands!

  There was a tentative knock, and Paean stuck her head onto the bridge.

  “Sir?”

  “How can I help you, Miss Donegal?” asked Jon Marsden.

  She seemed uncertain. Guilty, somehow. “Need some help. Need to carry Wolf back to the infirmary. He’s fallen asleep in the galley. I told him not to walk on that leg yet. It must have exhausted him.”

  Jon Marsden gave the little green pirate a long, searching look.

  “Your buddy Federi would probably be proud of you,” he muttered. “Go round up Rhine Gold and your brother, Paean. We’ll get that pesky patient of yours put back in bed.”

  There he lay, large, helpless and passed-out. Paean gazed at her patient, usually so full of rubbish. His bearded face, relaxed. It made him look somehow vulnerable. He couldn’t be very much older than Ronan. Hard to connect this heap of senseless meat here with the insulting lout he was when awake!

  She sighed and started unravelling the bandage around his knee. Rhine Gold and Ronan watched; Marsden had returned to his programming.

  “I wouldn’t open that, if I were you,” advised Ronan. “We still want to go ashore today!”

  “I’ve got to!” retorted Paean. She took a look at the wound.

  Eyeballs on sticks! His walkabout had popped several stitches! Blood was seeping unceasingly out of the wound. Paean reached for the needle and thread and patiently redid the burst sutures. She only hoped all the internal stitching was still in place. Well, if it wasn’t, he’d have hell to pay!

  “We need someone on guard with a hammer,” she said angrily. “He’s to stay in bed at least a week.”

  “How about tying him down?” suggested Ronan.

  Paean looked at her brother and Rhine Gold and thought about Atuona. She had been on the open sea so long. It was enough to drive a girl mad. Despite the horrid condition of the town she would like to go ashore too, hike up into the mountainside a bit, feel solid ground under her feet, see some lush green tropical jungle. But not alone! She had a feeling that as long as they went in groups and provoked nobody, they’d be alright.

  “By the way, sis, that scarf – most becoming!” teased Ronan.

  “Well, I might as well accept an award when I’m presented with one,” said Paean with dignity.

  “One can spot you sea miles away. Just don’t wear it in an attack,” quipped Ronan.

  Atuona. She wondered. Was it a great risk to leave him aboard and go ashore? She knew the answer. Was it worth staying aboard and keeping him company? Giving it another shot at friendship? Having herself chewed out another time for talking too much? No, thanks! She snorted.

  “A regular beacon,” Ronan continued to tease her. “If you climb into the rigging, you can be a lighthouse.”

  “Not climbing up there again,” muttered Paean. It had been terrifying enough.

  “I’ll have to make Federi another bet then, won’t I?” grinned Ronan. Paean gifted him a scathing look.

  Rhine Gold was grinning as well.

  Atuona.

  “What exactly are your plans today?” asked Paean.

  “Just going to pad about the town a bit,” said Ronan.

  “Care to go climbing up into the mountains?”

  Rhine Gold looked very impressed by that idea. Ronan nodded.

  “Sounds like fun. If you come along, we won’t need torches.”

  “I’ve been told there are old cannibal altars and archaeological digs up there,” said Paean. “I’d like to see some.” Though where they should have come from, if the island had supposedly been submerged…

  Whoa. It was Samoa that had been submerged! No wonder the jungle here looked older than sixty years! It was!

  “Don’t worry Pae,” joked Ronan. “I think cannibals don’t eat their gr
eens…”

  Only their browns, she thought with a shudder. But that could have been anything. Predators. They’d have to be careful.

  “But Doc is in town too, so it’s only me to look after this horrible fellow here…”

  “Did she tell you to stay aboard and baby-sit him?” asked Ronan.

  “Not exactly, but – I just know it’ll come down on my head if I don’t.” She had a bad conscience. Mr Marsden had not been impressed with her Valeriensis trick.

  Ronan shook his head pityingly.

  “Come, sis,” he said. “Finish tucking the big hairy baby in and then let’s have a brainstorm.”

  Sherman Dougherty entered the bridge. Jon Marsden looked up from the console.

  “I think perhaps you ought to check on things in the galley, Jon,” said Sherman quietly. “Looks like the three hags from Hamlet gathered around the cauldron there!”

  Jon Marsden shot to his feet.

  “Thanks for the warning, Sherman,” he said. “It’s that Paean again, right?”

  “And her brother, and young Reinhold Schatz.”

  “Pesky Donegals!”

  Marsden made his way to the galley.

  “What’s happening here?”

  “She’s brewing a potion,” said Ronan with a huge grin before Paean could caution him in any way.

  Marsden planted himself in front of Paean.

  “You had better tell me all about it,” he invited.

  Paean explained her idea of distilling the valeriensis protein back from the live bacterium. This way she could dose it a lot more accurately, for instance to put it into a drip. She had intended to add the decoction to a bottle of rum and put it next to Wolf’s bunk, with a message for quick recovery. It would keep him so drowsy, he’d not get in the mood for getting up.

  There were three bottles of steaming decoction standing on the shelf; she had been on the point of filling the rest into the fourth.

  “You honestly believe he’ll self-dose?” asked Marsden. “I’ll take these. You’re getting more dangerous, Paean!”

  “But sir, how must I keep the man from getting up? He won’t listen to me! And his leg won’t heal if he hops about on it!”

  Marsden looked again. There was a quaver in her voice and a stressed little fold between her eyebrows. That bad?

  Paean sniffed. “It looks terrible! Sir, I can’t tell you how many fragments I tried putting back together yesterday! Like a Chinese puzzle!”

  “Can’t really sit there with a hammer,” said Marsden thoughtfully.

  “Oh no, please don’t,” said Paean quickly. “It was way too much work…” She petered off uncertainly as he couldn’t keep a straight face.

  “But I wonder why he won’t stay put,” added Marsden thoughtfully. “There’s something to that! See there, Paean, if he won’t listen to the orders of his paramedic, he must listen to mine!”

  Paean looked relieved. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course,” smiled Marsden. “Can’t have pirates limping about! We’ll end up with a Long John Silver situation. What time will he wake up?”

  “Twelve thirty about,” said Paean, clapping her hand over her mouth.

  He laughed. “You’ll have to learn to cover your tracks better, little green pirate! Well, from about quarter past I’ll be at his bedside, and as he opens his eyes, I’ll give him his medicine. That should buy you – how much longer?”

  “Three hours,” muttered Paean contritely, hanging her head. “Sir, we can’t dose him continuously for the next six weeks!”

  “We shouldn’t have to,” said Marsden. “Isn’t there a cast in the infirmary?”

  “Couldn’t find one,” said Paean.

  “Alright. There’s a medical supplier in Atuona. Organize a cast, Doc Judith’s got an account there. Be back by three. What rum is this?”

  “Just a bottle from the supplies,” said Paean. “Ronan selected it – he said the other type is too expensive.”

  “Does Federi know you’re plundering his supplies?”

  “I was going to tell him,” said Paean sheepishly. “He’ll understand!”

  “Do so. It’s nasty when things go missing!” Marsden took the bottle of rum. “Go ashore, kids. Have fun. Just be back on time. I’ll take it from here.” He moved off to the infirmary, worrying. That girl was headed for trouble in an unstoppable straight line, and no mistake!

  Finally they could go ashore. They found the medical supplies shop and bought a clip-on cast for Wolf’s leg. Then they walked up into the sweltering hills.

  Paean had been right. Up here it was still a paradise. They walked on what seemed to be a well-worn path until it disappeared, then simply followed their noses. The forest was quiet. Even the birds seemed to be holding siesta. When they came to a small stream, they all drank from the cold water, then rinsed the sweat off their faces.

  “I wonder how Marsden’s doing,” worried Paean.

  Wolf peered through heavy eyelids. His head was throbbing worse than his knee. He wondered for a second who had hit him over the skull with a blunt weapon and thrown him off his chair. Then he realized that everything was yellow. This was not the galley. He was back in Sick Bay. He groaned.

  “Hey sailor! Your little girlfriend sent this to console you!”

  Jonathan Marsden was on the chair next to his bunk, holding up a bottle of rum. Wolf groaned louder. Last thing he needed now!

  Things started to make sense. The little red fox had given him coffee. It had been laced! With her horrible wonder bug! The thought made his head want to split with toxic ache. Her sugary smile suddenly made sense! If he got his hands around her scrawny little neck!

  “She doesn’t want you getting too bored in the six weeks you’ve got to stay in here,” added the First Mate.

  Six weeks! Wolf sat up.

  “I’ve got to get back!”

  “Back where, Wolf?”

  “To work, sir! There’s stuff I’ve got to take care of!”

  “Paean says, six weeks,” Marsden repeated.

  Wolf’s hackles rose. “I don’t have to listen to that half-baked little bully! I’m getting up!”

  “Not so fast, mate,” said Marsden. “She’s right. Your knee won’t heal if you get up.”

  “She’s got no clue, with respect, sir!” growled the young engineer. “I’ve got to get on with things!”

  If he could just grab this knee of his and wring the pain out of it with both hands, like a drenched towel!

  Jon Marsden was looking at him strangely.

  “Wolf, what’s going on in the machine room?”

  “Nothing, sir, absolutely nothing! The drives are all functional and the torpedoes are okay, and the computer system is up to date, and the nuclear stuff – sir, I only think Ailyss is too green to cope alone. Dr Jake is ashore.”

  “Ailyss,” repeated Marsden, studying him. “Has she been behaving?”

  “Yes, sir.” Wolf went silent.

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about,” said Jon Marsden and poured them each half a cup of rum. “Drink to your health, Wolf!”

  “But sir…”

  “That’s an order,” said Marsden cheerfully and handed him his cup. Wolf obediently downed the rum and fell back down that slippery abyss he had just managed to struggle out of.

  Paean, Rhine Gold and Ronan returned from their island excursion just as Federi and Shawn came back from the diving, Shawn’s eyes full of “hey-shoo-wow”.

  “You must see it, sis,” he said. “It’s incredible down there!”

  “You should see the sacrificial cannibal sites,” she replied.

  Marsden appeared from below deck. “You should see Wolf,” he reminded Paean.

  “Oh, right, Wolf,” said Paean with a heavy sigh. “Is he at least still asleep?”

  “Like a baby,” replied Marsden with a wink.

  Paean went
down to the yellow infirmary. Wolf was still passed out. Sleeping, he looked like a much nicer person. There were fine laughter lines detectible around his closed eyes. She smiled. There had to be a nice guy lurking in there somewhere! Perhaps with a bit of coaxing he would emerge? But the yellow hue of the room did make him look jaundiced. Or maybe it was just punishment for his drinking spree yesterday.

  She put the cast on his leg with help from Rhine Gold. Ronan had gone for a swim. She wanted to go swimming too. The island had been very hot. But once again, she wasn’t going to go alone. There were sharks, according to Shawn.

  She put the pile of books she’d got for Wolf in an antique shop, on his bedside table.

  “Why do you go to all that trouble for him?” asked Rhine Gold.

  She studied the blond giant and wondered if she should take him along when she went to swim. Probably a good idea. The buddy system: Feed the shark your buddy.

  “Because he’ll be in here for a while, Reinhold. I would imagine if it were me lying there, I’d go crazy without something to read. I’d hope someone would bring me some books.”

  “I wonder if he can even read,” muttered Rhine Gold unkindly. “Brute like him! If it were me, would you go to the same trouble?”

  Paean looked up at him, surprised. “Of course,” she said, then laughed. “I’d probably go to a lot more trouble for you!”

  “Why?” smiled Rhine Gold.

  “Because I like you.” She gazed down at her patient, sighing. Green eyes, laughter lines… Let’s be realistic here, Paean! Brute like him… “This one’s not a particularly nice person.”

  Wolf opened his eyes a tiny slit.

  Across from him, on the other bunk, sat a quiet little presence, so quiet he might not have seen her if she hadn’t been looking straight at him with her huge eyes. A wild animal, come close.

  His head was still throbbing with chemical overload and his knee was transmitting pulses of leaden ache. But somehow the need for water overrode all.

  “Wolf,” said Ailyss quietly. “Are you thirsty?”

  He groaned something. She could force him to drink anything right now, just not rum or green bug.

  The dark-haired phantom girl slipped from her spot without disturbing a molecule of air. She took a metal beaker out of the cabinet, rinsed it under the tap, filled it and gave it to him.

  Water! Pure, clean desalinated ship water! That was the moment Wolf fell in love with her.

  18 - Donegal Magic

  “Going somewhere?”

  Paean turned around to see the gypsy’s black eyes following her and Shawn from his shady corner in the storage space at the Solar Wind’s prow. Paean and Shawn had backpacks and were now only waiting for Ronan and Rhine Gold. It was still early. They wanted to go out before the day heated up too much.

  “We’re going up into the hills again this morning,” said Paean.

  “I know you don’t like Atuona,” added Shawn. “Or I’d have asked you to come along.”

  “Into the hills?” said Federi.

  His left eyebrow went up. There were things in those hills. He wouldn’t want the kids to go alone. A tropical jungle was not a Dublin green! It worried him that the three teens had gone by themselves yesterday, when he’d been diving. They could have got lost, or worse.

  He didn’t want to bust their little party, but somehow he had to find an excuse to go along and supervise.

  “Well, would you like to join us?” asked Paean.

  The gypsy grinned. Little mind-reader! “Wouldn’t I just be in the way?”

  “You? Never!” exclaimed the little green pirate.

  “You sure it’s not a strictly-kids-only outing?”

  Paean growled.

  Federi pocketed the thing he’d been carving and stood up. He stretched. “Well, then I’m ready.” He eyed Paean approvingly. “By the way, girl, becoming scarf.”

  She laughed.

  “Don’t you need to pack anything?” she asked. “To take along?”

  “Pack? Pack what? Is this a weight-lifting exercise?”

  Paean laughed. Federi winked at her. “So what all are you kids relocating across the paradise island?”

  “A bit of water, some towels, some lunch,” said Paean. “Not much really!”

  “The island has water,” said Federi. “Towels?”

  “Going swimming,” said Paean.

  “It’s so hot,” replied the Romany. “Think you’ll need towels?”

  “Well – to sit on,” explained Paean, beginning to get the distinct impression that she was being ridiculed.

  “Perfectly good grass for that,” replied Federi. “And lunch?”

  Paean peered at him with narrowed eyes.

  “Just some sandwiches,” Shawn came to her rescue. He laughed. “But you’re going to tell us, you’ll just catch us a fish instead, or quickly snare a bunny, and then we’ll have a genuine jungle-dinner?”

  “Not actually,” said Federi. “I thought, we have lunch on the ship, and then we go diving?”

  “Oh, yay!” Now Paean was beaming.

  Rhine Gold and Ronan appeared on the deck. This time, all of them were taking their swimming gear. Yesterday they had discovered several gorgeous rock pools with cold streams cascading into them. It would be a welcome change to the warm sea. And Paean was wearing her brand new swimsuit under her clothes. She wouldn’t have to swim in shorts and shirts anymore as she had done so far.

  “Nice scarf, sis,” commented Ronan, once again. Was she going to wear it every day now? “Trying to scare the birds away?”

  “By the way, Federi’s joining us,” said Paean.

  “Oh no,” groaned Ronan. “Two jingly scarecrows!”

  It earned him a thoughtful gaze from the Romany.

  Ten o’clock. Jon Marsden got up and stretched. Time for a break, time to check on everything. He turned and came face to face with Rushka.

  “They’re ashore,” she stated flatly.

  “Were you not allowed to go along?” asked Jon. “Thought Federi had cleared that with your father for you?”

  “Och…” Rushka couldn’t explain it. Now that she was allowed to, she suddenly didn’t want to. Land wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. And Atuona of all places! And a certain someone mustn’t think she was tagging him! She hadn’t exactly been invited along!

  Marsden nodded sagely. He thought he understood.

  “I don’t like the way Paean frats with that Ailyss,” commented Rushka.

  “What -?” He frowned. This was an ugly little development!

  “She borrowed a book from Ailyss,” said Rushka. “Last night. A spy novel, ironically.”

  Marsden brooded. What could that mean?

  “Donegal Trouble, Donegal Magic,” he muttered. “We’ll have to monitor that.”

  Did it relate in any way to Wolf’s restlessness? He wondered. Perhaps closer supervision was required for their Irish spy? But how much closer could it get? Wolf and Dr Jake were monitoring her non-stop in the machine room, and she didn’t exactly associate with anyone in her time off. Stuck in her cabin reading, most of her free time. Tough to supervise that, beyond watching the electronic eye. He glanced at the console screen, then paged through the options. The electronic eye showed Ailyss in the machine room, reading.

  The mountaineering party was tramping up the blistering mountainside. Shawn scouted ahead, with his sibs unable to call him to order. He was like a runaway horse exploring the jungle. Around every bend in the path new things delighted him and caused him to break into a run to get there faster. Rhine Gold and Ronan had their hands full trying to catch up with him.

  Paean was very soon fed up with chasing after Shawn. She settled back into a pace that suited her, and found her gypsy friend walking alongside her.

  “He shouldn’t run ahead like that,” commented the Romany.

  “Good exercis
e for Ro and for Reinhold,” said Paean lightly, following the voices. Yesterday the jungle had been so jolly quiet, it was just as well that there was some noise happening now, further on. “Nothing can really happen to him, can it? I mean, they’re right there…”

  Federi peered at her. “What have you seen?”

  She told him about what she and Shawn had found on the beach, two days ago. He nodded thoughtfully.

  “What does that?” asked Paean.

  “Could be anything,” replied Federi evasively. “Only tells you to be on guard!”

  “But we’ll be okay in a group?”

  “Especially with Federi looking after you,” he reassured her with a smile. “Don’t worry, little sunbird.”

  “You know, night before last, when you made me climb into the rigging?”

  “Hmm?” Federi bent a green branch of something out of their way.

  “You manipulated me!”

  “Hmm!” Federi grinned. “And it won us the bet!”

  She paused. “Us?” What had she won?

  “Well, you overcame your fear,” said Federi. “That’s a big win, believe me! You’ll realize it in time, little pirate.”

  “Still! You manipulated me!”

  “I had my reasons,” said Federi lightly.

  “Yes. Your rotten bet! How much did you pull out of my poor brother’s pocket then?”

  “Only one bottle of really cheap Chilean Real Jamaican, and the promise for instrumental lessons.”

  “Oh!” That effectively shut her up, because she hadn’t even told him yet about the bottle of Chilean she had annexed from his store. The more she thought about it, the more she had to laugh.

  “What’s so funny suddenly?” asked Federi.

  “I’m so sorry, Federi!” she giggled.

  “Why? What have you done now? Spit it out!”

  She told him about the plan they had cooked up for keeping Wolf in bed, and how in the end Marsden had been the one to confiscate the bottle of Chilean Real Jamaican and feed it to Wolf himself.

  “That smarts,” said Federi.

  “Oh, I’m really sorry, Federi. I’ll replace the bottle.”

  “That it had to be the bottle I had just won!”

  “Well, I’d have picked a better quality rum…”

  “For that lout Wolf Svendsson? That smarts even more! Why not a hammer?”

  Paean cast the Romany a suspicious look. Was the idea of keeping Wolf subdued with a hammer a widespread one?

  “It’s ironic, though,” she smiled. “You won that bottle from Ronan by manipulating me. But Ronan then manipulated the bottle back away, via me.” She paused, taken aback. “Hey! Means I got manipulated twice! Anna bottle o’ rum!”

  Federi chuckled.

  “But at least my brother had the last laugh,” shot Paean.

  “Never trust an Irishman,” concluded the gypsy. “Besides, you’re wrong. You get the last laugh! See? And Federi is laughing with you. Anyway, little luv, I didn’t only manipulate you into climbing up there just to win a silly bet. I’m sure Ronan would have taught me some instruments anyway.”

  “So then, why did you?”

  Federi laughed. “For the sports, I suppose,” he said. “I like manipulating people.”

  Paean scowled. That was even worse!

  “You guys! The lot of you!”

  “The lot of us what?”

  She didn’t grace that with an answer.

  “I’ll be manipulating you again,” he predicted darkly. “I manipulate everybody. It’s in my nature. I’m just not quite sure yet when and about what.”

  Ronan and Rhine Gold were coming towards them. “Can’t find Shawn.”

  “Should have given him a pink head-scarf,” said Federi. “Alright, we’ll search for him. You two go east and we go west. We meet here in twenty minutes. He can’t have gone far.”

  Shawn was already at the rock pool. He had dived in and was now exploring all its crevices, not hearing anyone call him over the noise of the waterfall.

  There was a cave behind the waterfall. He went in and considered it for a hidey-hole or a hiding spot for a treasure until he found unmistakable traces of recent human habitation. Empty bottles and signs of a campfire a bit further in the cave were a dead giveaway, and he nearly stumbled over the sleeping form of a hobo.

  Disappointment riddled Shawn. He’d have to come back again in about a hundred years and see if the place had been forgotten then. He nearly kicked the hobo, then thought better of it and looked at the man’s hands. The fingers were all there, and the wrong colour anyway. Next to the hobo, something gleamed softly. Something small, metallic. Shawn picked it up. It had resembled a flat rock, at first. It was heavy. He was sure it had some electronic function. He looked for any openings or buttons on it and found none, just smooth surface. Well, he’d ask Marsden about it later on. Cradling it carefully to prevent it from getting wet, he made his way back out of the cave and put the object in amongst his clothes on the shore. Then he dived into the cool water again.

  When he surfaced, Federi was towering over him.

  “What are you doing, boy? Can’t run away like that! You could have got seriously lost in this wilderness!”

  Jonathan Marsden descended into the machine room.

  “Hello, Ailyss.”

  The skinny brunette glanced up from her book.

  “Hi, Mr Marsden.”

  “Everything ship-shape down here?”

  “Perfect, Mr Marsden.”

  “Wolf sends his regards,” said Jon Marsden and watched for the reaction.

  Ailyss allowed him a tiny smile.

  “My regards back,” she replied. “Tell him from me to get well soon.”

  “He is concerned about the workload,” added Jon Marsden, studying her intently.

  That minute smile recurred.

  “Mr Marsden, you can be assured that there’s not much work down here,” she said, lifting the book she was reading to show him. “We haven’t had a Unicate attack since Lake Gatun.”

  Jon Marsden took a look around the machine room. All was fine. Not a single wire out of place; Dr Jake ran a very tidy operation.

  “Do you like it on the ship?” he asked casually.

  “It’ll do,” said Ailyss. “I prefer it without storms, sir.”

  Jonathan Marsden studied her a little while longer; she didn’t try to look busy, she simply sat there and waited for him to say something.

  “That’ll be all, Ailyss,” he ended up saying. “Keep up the good work.”

  “Thank you, Mr Marsden,” replied Ailyss. The First Mate turned and left the machineroom.

  If he didn’t have any sense, he’d begin to think that Donegal Magic was the spy instead of Ailyss! The teen was highly volatile in her thinking and her actions, whereas this one had the potential of a solid, dependable crewmember. Although making conversation was like fly-fishing, with her.

  Donegal Magic was currently stretched out on her towel, having had a lovely cold swim herself, watching her brothers and Rhine Gold play water polo with a beach ball they had acquired for next to nothing in Atuona. The gypsy was leaning against a shady tree close by, in swimming trunks too, carving away at something again. The day was heating up, but it was not yet sweltering. He had promised that later he’d take them diving. It was the only way to survive this tropical climate.

  “What is our actual mission here in Atuona?”

  “To enjoy ourselves,” said Federi.

  “Och, you’re joking!” Paean hadn’t been a pirate long, but still long enough to figure out that the shortcut from Panama to Hawaii didn’t exactly run southwest over Atuona! After all that time pressure and scraping through near-lethal Panama!

  “Quite serious. The Captain was quite clear on this, that while he is conducting his business, the young crowd are to enjoy themselves and stay out of trouble.”

  Paean smiled
and half-closed her eyes. She had expected a snub for her nosiness. Instead she got this playful evasiveness. It tied in with the Thieves’ Honour guy who’d plucked a star from the sky for her two nights ago as a reward for winning him a bet.

  You took Federi the way he was, or you left it. There was nothing in between.

  She stretched out in the warm tropical shade. Far, far away from cold rainy Dublin, from the mud of Molly Street and the terror of the Unicate. On a paradise island with her brothers and a couple of friends. If she were a kitten, she’d be purring.

  “You know how you want to frame some moments and hang them into a memory gallery?” she asked dreamily. “This is one of those moments.”

  Federi smiled too and kept on carving. He wished he could say the same. This place made him uneasy. A sense of something not right. Land always did; but this was more specific, somehow, sharper. This was really close by.

  Paean looked up at him.

  “What are all those vicious scars on your back and your chest?”

  “And everywhere else all over me,” completed Federi with a grin. “They are reminders.”

  “Reminders?”

  “Of who I am.”

  She sat up. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m the one that got away,” said Federi.

  Paean frowned. She didn’t find that particularly funny.

  “You’re not about to tell me, are you,” she said.

  “You’re right I’m not,” smiled Federi. He scanned the undergrowth. Still nothing. He hoped it would last until they’d set sail again, north. With luck, Captain would be done negotiating and gathering new information by tomorrow this time.

  When they returned to the ship it was past noon. Marsden informed Paean that her big baby had been crying for her for a while now. She cast her eyes skywards, sighed an abysmal sigh and trotted down to the infirmary.

  “How long do I still have to lie here?” Wolf greeted her with unconcealed irritation.

  “Good afternoon to you too,” she replied. “You’ll have to stay down until Doc decides you can get up. I can tell you it’ll be at least three weeks, maybe six.” She sat down by his bedside and reached for his pulse.

  He yanked his arm away. Ye Gods, three weeks! Anything could happen in three weeks! He calculated frantically. Those were the three weeks within which the Solar Wind should reach Honolulu!

  “Now, Wolf, I only wanted to check your pulse!”

  “I don’t need you holding my hand!” he snapped. “I’m not sick, Paean!” How on Earth was he going to turn things so he could find out if his suspicions in the engine room were correct or – hopefully – dead wrong?

  Could he trust Marsden with this dilemma? But if he was wrong -

  And if he was right? Was there a way to turn things still? He thought back to a wild spirit girl with huge eyes who had saved his life.

  “Alright,” said Paean with dignity, getting up. A nice guy lurking in there? Must have been a trick of the light! “Clearly I’m not needed here. If you have something constructive to say to me, you can call me again.” She walked to the door, silently relieved that it had been such a short visit. She really wanted to go diving.

  Wolf returned to reality. Whoa! There went the paramedic!

  “Wait, Paean!”

  She stopped, turned. Glared at Wolf.

  “Thank you for the books,” he muttered. “That was thoughtful. Sorry I’m so antisocial. Don’t go yet.”

  Oh! This was a different tune! Paean smiled.

  “You’re welcome. You’d have done the same for me.”

  “I doubt it,” said Wolf, suddenly grinning. “I’m not a particularly nice person, you know.”

  “Oh, I noticed,” said Paean. “Okay, not particularly nice person, will you please let me check on your health now? If you’d rather have the Doc, I’ll call her, but you know – I wouldn’t like to bother her with easy stuff I can take over for her.”

  “It’s okay, you don’t need to worry her,” said Wolf. “I’ll be good.”

  Paean took his pulse and measured his temperature. “Let me have a look at that knee,” she commanded.

  Reluctantly Wolf allowed her to take the cast and then the bandage off, examine the sutures and swab the entire thing with disinfectant. He even tried to be brave about it, although she knew that the iodine tincture burnt like hell.

  “What changed your mind?” asked Paean while she worked.

  “My mind? What do you mean?”

  “Well, that you decided you want me around after all!”

  “I don’t exactly –“ Wolf stopped himself just in time. He didn’t particularly care who the hell the paramedic was! As long as she got the job done! But telling her this might just result in her walking out of that door again. And then he’d have to call Doc instead, and then that overdue ruffle was definitely coming his way! So he agreed wholeheartedly with Paean about not bothering Doc Judith if they didn’t absolutely have to. But then he’d have to count his words, be a bit political, not speak too frankly to the meddling little busybody… Oh heck, this was ticklish!

  “Course I want you around, Paean, who wouldn’t,” he lied. “Actually I asked for you because – Paean, can I have one of your magic powders? You don’t seem to mind giving a grown man painkillers! - OW!”

  Wolf winced as she poured some tincture over his knee straight from her bottle. Little ruffian!

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” exclaimed Paean. “Painkillers! Of course!” She put down the bottle and dug a home-powdered aspirin out of the drawer. Red iodine tincture stained the bed sheet where it dripped. This was ignored. “There you go, Wolf! Now why didn’t you say you’re in pain? I’m grouchy too when I’m hurting!”

  “Usually I just wait it out,” said Wolf, swallowing the powder down with a violent shudder. “Yuk!”

  “You don’t like yourself very much, do you?” Paean asked as she got back to work. As long as he did the talking, he couldn’t accuse her of being a chatterbox!

  “I get along with myself just fine, thank you,” replied Wolf with a grin. “At least…”

  “At least?” Paean put some really sticky disinfectant ointment on a fresh gauze patch and pasted it over the knee.

  “Ouch! Well, ever since you’ve told that blond goodie two-shoes how nasty you think I am, I’ve been wondering a bit about the way I deal with kids. Ouch! Sheesh! Could you be gentler?!”

  “Sorry,” muttered Paean. “Thought you were tough.” This conversation was beginning to worry her. “You heard all that?”

  “Wasn’t asleep,” grinned Wolf. “Just half dead.”

  Paean’s forehead furrowed. “You heard that! That means – oh no!” She stared at him in dismay. “Did it hurt very much when I dug out the bullet?”

  “What?”

  “After you were shot. I took about four hours all in all digging out the bullet and stitching you up. Looked up and it was two ay em. Could you feel anything?”

  “Not a thing,” said Wolf. “Except for my waking up in the middle of it. Your forsaken green bug works really well, Paean. I just woke up with a sore knee yesterday morning.”

  “Good.”

  Wolf turned his eyes skywards. “Now what have I done to deserve that?”

  “Och, stop being such a big baby,” she scolded him. “I thought you were the toughest of the lot of us! I never knew pirates were such sissies!”

  That stung! Wolf snapped his mouth shut and resolved to bear all torture without a peep. But then he just had to add something.

  “Putting that stuff in my coffee just so you could go ashore – now that wasn’t nice, Paean!”

  “Wolf, you won’t heal walking around. You were being stupid. I’m a practical person.”

  “I can see that,” he grinned, pointing to her green scarf.

  “That was an award,” she said with dignity. “For becoming a real pir
ate.” She clipped the cast closed again. “And if you were a real pirate, Mr. Nuclear Engineer, you’d understand there’s no point in losing your leg if it can be saved.”

  “Oh.” Sheesh! Did she mean that? Losing his leg? Wolf swallowed hard as the implications began to trickle in. “Paean – is it that bad?”

  Paean sat back, sighing. Anxiety was written clearly in her ice-blue eyes. “Worse. So how old exactly are you, Mr Oh-so-grown-up?”

  “Twenty-two,” replied Wolf.

  “That jolly well explains it,” said Paean angrily.

  “Explains what?”

  “Why you have to put me down for being younger all the time,” said Paean. “You’re only just grown up by the skin of your teeth. You’re still trying to convince yourself. Tell me, Wolf! Why on Earth did you get yourself shot that night? How idiotic is that?”

  Wolf gasped. What had he said that had upset her this time?

  “Grown-up is as grown-up does, Svendsson! What the hell was going through your mind?” she scolded. “Can’t you steer clear of trouble when you see it? Cor! I’ve seen so many unnecessary pub brawls in Dublin. It’s always some drunken, stupid hothead who starts it off, riling some other drunken stupid hothead. Next thing it’s punches and knives and sometimes pistol shots. And then the darned Unicate descends like a flock of vultures and closes the place, and the little Donegal sibs had better clear out before they get caught. I lost my chromonica that way!”

  Wolf stared at Paean, speechless. He’d never thought that she would have been exposed to anything of that sort! He had been under the impression that she had been sheltered up to the point of boarding the Solar Wind.

  “I’m that tired of guys getting motherless and then punching each other up,” she added heatedly. “But Wolf, you’re a nuclear engineer! I’d have said you’re too intelligent for that kind of stuff!”

  “Someone was insulting one of the guys here aboard,” Wolf defended himself. He felt strangely moved. This girl actually cared about him! Nobody had ever called him too intelligent, too high-class for anything before! Rough Wolf! “I wouldn’t stand for it. Regardless if what they say is true. He might be a cold-blooded assassin and a pathological long-finger, but nobody speaks badly of my friends and shipmates!”

  Paean paused. She stared at Wolf, a lop-sided smile slowly spreading over her face.

  “I already like you a lot more,” she said. She caught herself and quit gazing at him. “Still blooming stupid to get your knee wrecked like that. Are you feeling braver now?”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” said Paean and ripped the tape off his cheek in a swift movement. Quite a bit of beard came with it. Wolf roared.

  “Not brave,” said Paean sadly and shook her head. She noted with a frown that she had actually torn two of the sutures in the process. Not so clever!

  “Pirate!” snapped Wolf. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because,” said Paean and swabbed the stitch wound with some tincture. Boy, had she sewn a nasty seam! “Now hold still, you big hairy baby!”

  “You bloodthirsty harpy,” gasped Wolf, tears streaming from his eyes. That blasted tincture stung like hell!

  “You’ve got a lot to learn,” she told him sagely.

  Oh yes, thought Wolf. Most importantly, that you don’t insult your paramedic when in a compromised position. Revenge, in her case, seemed to be an involuntary reflex.

  “Hmm,” she added, frowning. “So do I, actually. I have to learn how to suture a straight seam. I’m really sorry, Wolf. I have no choice. I’ll have to undo this whole cheek wound and get it sterile again. It’s gruesome.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “Well now,” said Paean pensively. “That depends. Do you want me to give you some coffee first or would you prefer to tough it out?”

  “Whatever,” growled Wolf, trying not to grin because grinning hurt. “Just fix it nicely this time, will you, little Paean?”

  She prepared him some valeriensis. He downed it stoically and passed out. He was a brave man after all. And she had been right. There was a nice guy somewhere in there. She had seen him shimmer through. She got to work undoing the sutures.

  19 - Three-toes

  Marsden and Federi beached the Lawnmower in the spot Paean had described, with the sunken buildings in the sand. They got out and found the Donegal sibs’ footprints. The tide had come up quite high last night; on the other hand it was the only set of prints, as nobody else walked here. This stretch of beach was dangerous. You could fall into a broken building and get stuck or break a limb. The Donegals had been lucky. Federi resolved not to let those two out of his sight again.

  He shot a brief glance at the sky, which was sporting a fine layer of haze through which the noonday sun was beating down. It was muggy. Storm brewing? Not yet, he thought. Perhaps tonight.

  “I think we found it,” said Marsden, indicating the place where the two siblings’ footprints milled about a bit and turned back. Federi peered into the undergrowth. He saw the pile of clothes and picked up the top one. As Paean had said, a finger was stuck to it, so dried out that even the ants were leaving it alone.

  He crouched down and dug in the heap. Odd! The clothes were still good! There were some other remains, but not many. Nothing larger than that finger. All dried, desiccated.

  The clothes, all in browns and military greens except where they were stained with dry blood, said that this couldn’t have happened more than a few days ago. The human remains spoke of weeks. It didn’t rhyme.

  “Did she say, old rags?” asked Marsden quizzically, lifting a label up for Federi to read. It said ‘Axil’. A very expensive designer of outdoor and mountaineering gear! This had been no beach bum!

  “Shall we take them along? Exhibit A?” asked Marsden.

  “Do you have a morbid fascination with such forensic stuff?” replied Federi with a shudder. They filched through the clothes, but besides those few human bits there was absolutely nothing, no identification, no metal parts, not even bones. This worried Federi.

  “A tourist maybe?” he surmised.

  “To Hiva Oa?” Marsden asked back, sceptical.

  “Look, either whatever did this was intelligent and took everything, or Atuona has picked him clean over time,” said the Romany. “But I don’t exactly see tracks of Atuona,” he added, falcon eyebrows furrowed. “And they wouldn’t have left the clothes!”

  “Here,” said Marsden, indicating. Federi went over to where the First Mate was pointing at the ground. Strange, three-toed animal imprints. Long toes, centrally anchored. Like a bird’s. Or perhaps a reptile’s.

  These prints couldn’t be older than two, maybe three days, thought Federi. They still looked comparatively crisp. And there hadn’t been any rain. One rain and they were gone. A bit of wind, some small wildlife, insects, lizards, and they would fade, too!

  Federi searched and found more of the same prints, leading away from the crime scene. He beckoned to Marsden, and the First Mate followed, keeping a few steps behind, giving the gypsy space.

  “Four-legged,” said Federi. “See there, Jon?”

  Marsden moved closer to look. He couldn’t tell!

  “The gait,” explained Federi. “And there’s a really obvious clue!” He pointed to one of the prints and looked expectantly at Marsden. The First Mate narrowed his eyes, crouched down, peered at the print…

  “Aw, come now, Jon, can’t tell me you’re not seeing it,” prompted Federi.

  Marsden straightened out. “Sorry, Federi. Not spotting it.”

  Federi went down himself and indicated.

  “Look there! It had something stuck to its hind foot! Bit of twig or something. See? There it is – and there it’s not – and there it is again! That one’s the front paw.” He examined a tree trunk where the tracks overlaid and came directly up to the tree. He could practically see th
e animal rubbing up against the bark. And if he was lucky today… “Pay dirt!” He picked a small translucent flake of something off the bark. There were more. Now that he knew what he was looking for… he looked at the microchip-sized flake. Two-square millimetres. “Reptilian, I think.”

  “A shedding four-legged reptile with three toes? Not a Komodo dragon?”

  “Dragons are five-toed,” Federi pointed out. “And last time I looked they didn’t eat rich folk. Not that many three-toed animals on Planet Earth! Weird!” He shook his head. “Jon, honestly, I’m mystified. I’d have to look in Sherman’s files for a match. ‘s not exactly Romania, this,” he added with a grin. “Maybe the islands have a few unique animals…”

  “Well, we know now that there are dangerous predators running around,” said Marsden. “Let’s keep a close eye on our troublesome little ones!”

  “What I’m doing, my friend, what I’m doing!” Federi followed the track further. He had been lucky in the past, sometimes, finding the animal he had been looking for. These tracks were not that fresh, they had only remained undisturbed, but you never knew where they’d take you.

  In fact, they took him only a bit further on, through a few more twists of undergrowth. Then, where they ought to have been clearest, they stopped. There were no other tracks to indicate anything happening. The ground was sandy here, with a light crust where it had been dampened from the last rain, and where there were still tracks, they were sharp and pristine. The animal had cracked the virgin crust where it had walked.

  Federi frowned and searched, and studied the trees. There were a few branches and leaves higher up that looked singed, and the moss was dry in patches and partially blackened. And no further indication what had happened to the three-toe.

  “What?” asked Marsden, reading Federi’s face. “Something wrong?”

  “Something darned wrong, anna bottle,” growled the gypsy. “She vanished! Think it was a she.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Walked with a slink,” said Federi. “Swung her bum a bit.”

  Federi read tracks three-dimensionally, his gypsy radar doing a lot of the work, looking at the psychic trail the animal had left in time. He could practically see how she had slunk along, but he couldn’t get a proper fix on her shape – and here he was stumped, gypsy radar and all. He couldn’t imagine what had happened.

  “But look here, Jon! End of tracks. Whoosh. Gone. Thin air. Rien, nada, gar keins!”

  Spontaneous combustion? Why were there singed bits up in the trees, right over where the thing had gone onto its hind legs, reared up – it was not close enough to any trees to have leaped and climbed its way further, and anyway, he’d see tracks up there then! Scrapes perhaps, some torn leaves and brutalized twigs where the animal had scrabbled up… the tracks would also have told him! The imprints would be deeper where the creature might have leaped, and they’d have dug into the sand in a telltale pattern. He’d be able to tell where she had jumped! There were physical dynamics involved in a jump!

  Federi stared helplessly at Marsden. He felt as though the real problem was that he had walked into a paradigm trap in his own mind. There was a basic assumption he was making that was incorrect.

  “Unicate,” said Marsden helpfully. “They have been tampering with virus – why not with reptiles?”

  They exchanged a grin and both shook their heads.

  “Just kidding,” sighed Marsden.

  “I’ll work on it,” promised Federi. “Come, pal. There’s nothing more we can do here at this point.”

  They went back to the shore, boarded the Lawnmower and returned to the Solar Wind.

  Paean was in the yellow room, absorbed in bits of skin, beard, small capillaries and black self-dissolving thread. Which actually looked like more beard. She contemplated fleetingly whether she simply ought to pluck out Wolf’s beard hair and use it for suturing thread.

  Rhine Gold’s head popped around the door.

  “Hi Paean. You in here again?”

  “Yip,” she said, focusing on her job.

  “You spend a lot of time in here,” said Rhine Gold grudgingly.

  Paean turned and looked at him scathingly until he shrivelled and backed out of the room.

  Some time later, Ronan stuck his head through the door.

  “Coming diving, sis?”

  “Och, please wait for me,” she begged. “This cheek is a mess, Ro, I’m battling – and the knee – well, we’ll just have to see. I’m still going to be a while.”

  Ronan gazed at the comatose Wolf. “Dead meat again, is he?”

  “Please tell them to wait for me,” Paean implored. “I really want to go diving!”

  “Okay, sis. I’ll tell them.”

  “I’m very nearly done,” panicked Paean when she could once again feel a stare resting on her neck. “Please don’t go diving without me! But I’ve got to finish up here!”

  “Well,” said Federi, taking a chair, “they can’t go diving without the instructor. I’ve come to let you know. Take all the time you want. Can I watch?”

  “Do you love the sight of blood and messy wounds?” asked Paean.

  “Nothing better,” said Federi with a contented smile. He wondered to himself what the others were doing leaving her to cope alone. She who passed out from the sight of blood. “Explain to me what you’re doing!”

  So Paean tried to explain what she was doing as she worked. Her explanations turned into a cryptic, semi-coherent monologue after a while, with Paean so focused on the job she didn’t even notice she wasn’t talking in full sentences anymore.

  “So now here I’ve got to…..” she murmured. “See, here it has…” She felt around on the table, not taking her eyes off the wound. “I need…” Federi placed the tincture in her hand. “Thanks, nurse,” she mumbled.

  Suddenly she sat bolt upright and frowned at Federi.

  “Why did he call you a cold-blooded assassin?”

  “Probably because I’m so good at shooting down filthy pirates,” said Federi. “Though I’m sure this wasn’t supposed to reach my ears!”

  “Oh!” said Paean, taken aback. “I’m sorry. Of course not!”

  “Did he get injured defending my reputation?” asked Federi with a little smile.

  “Sounds like it!”

  “The silly boy! And here I am, working so hard on becoming notorious!”

  Paean grinned. Yes! A silly boy! Indeed! She returned to her wound technology.

  “He’s a good guy, that Wolf,” added Federi.

  “You know, I wouldn’t have agreed with you yesterday.”

  “But now you do,” smiled Federi.

  “If the tables had been turned,” said Paean, “would you have stood up for him like that?”

  “That’s a good question,” replied Federi, watching how she sutured. “I doubt the tables would have been turned though. Federi doesn’t get himself into such situations in the first place.”

  Uh-huh. That stood to reason. On the grown-up scale, Federi rated several notches higher than Wolf Svendsson. Paean suspected that she herself rated higher than the engineer!

  She stared at the gypsy once more, her thoughts coursing.

  “Gee, Federi. I really don’t know about that knee. It looks terrible. I’m very worried.”

  “Isn’t it time to turn it over to the doctor?” suggested the gypsy.

  “But she said…” Paean trailed off. She had in fact forgotten that there was a doctor on the ship! She had been the one responsible for nursing Mother, for six long months; in charge of finding out what to do next, and then getting it done. Her brothers had helped, but she had definitely been the driving force behind it! That kind of awful responsibility was so familiar, she had slipped into it without realizing it.

  Federi read her expression. Poor little songbird!

  “That was just that night, Paean. Doc has t
o stitch up pirates after every pub brawl. No wonder she’s sick of it. People get hit and cut with broken bottles, beer cans, jack knives. Mostly clean cuts, although sometimes there is a bit of disinfecting.”

  “And you help her,” completed Paean. It was obvious from the veteran way in which Federi knew his way around the infirmary and the procedures.

  “Well, little luv, somebody has to!”

  “Why don’t you stitch?” she asked, putting down the suturing needle. “You’d do it better!”

  “I’m not a medic,” Federi protested. “I don’t stitch. Only assist.”

  Paean frowned thoughtfully and retook the procedure. “But if you’re the one who helps her patch them, after every pub fight… that means that your reminders are not from drunken punch-em-ups?”

  Federi blinked. “Huh?”

  “It means, you’re not normally the one being patched!”

  “Heaven forbid!” laughed the Romany. “I told you Federi doesn’t get himself into such scrapes!”

  “So you don’t hit the pub every time the ship lands?”

  Federi shook his head, amused. “Do I look it? Anna bottle of rum!” He paused. “Aha. I get it. Federi’s silly little pet cliché. ‘s a good pet. Never mind.” He glanced at Paean’s work-in-progress. “Done?”

  “Nearly.”

  “I’d suspect Doc Judith would like to know about a messy bullet wound like this one, though. We should tell her.”

  Paean looked scared. “Have I done wrong, not calling her?”

  Federi frowned. Actually, if someone had done wrong, it was himself! It had not been his first concern. Atuona kept on worrying him. A sense of foreboding that made it difficult to focus on anything. Ever since their trip into the mountains it had got worse. Today’s finds still had to be consolidated, looked up… Something was definitely wrong! The sooner they could turn their backs on this place, the better.

  “Not at all, Paean. You were doing as you were told. I’m just saying, maybe it’s time she had a look at this.”

  “Should I call her now?”

  “No. Just finish up. Bring her with you next time.”

  Wolf opened his eyes to the empty sick yellow of the infirmary. His cheek felt stiff. There was something to be said for the old procedure, where the man used to wake up before his wound, giving him time to come to his senses! He had to admit though that it itched less; it had been driving him mad before. Now it only pained.

  His leg was another story. That felt as though it ought not belong to him. It had assumed a whole separate personality, and that personality was dying on the battlefield. He whimpered, and caught himself in horror. This was not good. Visions of himself with only one leg hovered on the edge of his awareness. He groaned, this time at the implications. How the hell would he get his job done? How was he to fly the Solar Wind before the storm? Captain would put him ashore!

  He reached for his book and found no strength in his arm. His hand fell short and flopped limply back onto the bunk.

  “Oh bum,” he mouthed and closed his eyes again. He was going to die.

  Jon Marsden was on another mission. He was going through the Sherman files, trying to make sense of those large three-toed prints.

  Before the Unicate take-over, there had been a lot of strange things going on. Sherman had ghost stories that dealt with genetic engineering of people into animal shapes. From a logical aspect this made no sense at all; those attempts had been abortive. But it wasn’t impossible that they had managed to clone something that was larger, stronger and more intelligent than its ancestor. Take a little lizard for example…

  That was exactly where the problem came in. Three-toed reptiles?

  What if Federi was wrong with his assumption and they were actually dealing with a bird? But – a four-legged bird? Marsden was prepared to stand trial on Federi’s theory of the four legs. Nobody could read tracks the way the Tzigan could!

  And the Tzigan had been stumped. Jon Marsden sighed impatiently and gave the hacking at Anya Miller’s capsule another go.

  Shawn was right with his hey-shoo-wow. The reef was magnificent.

  It was a weird feeling diving in bathwater! Green sunlight filtered down in a wavering curtain, illuminating corals and anemones in the richest colours. Ronan was filming with Federi’s (probably stolen) underwater camera.

  In a crevice in the rock sat a spotted eel, mouth open, waiting for things to swim into it. Good luck to him, thought Paean. A bit further a couple of rays came slowly flopping by, weird flying blankets of the oceans. And then three reef sharks came inspecting who was diving in their reef. The sharks gaped at the humans and the humans gaped at the sharks.

  Paean looked around for Shawn. There he was, beckoning her from a bit further on. She hurried and caught up with him. He led her on, around another coral outcrop, up over the top of the reef. There, completely hidden in a rocky enclave, open only to the top –

  Wow! She gaped, eyes wide. There was an entire ship resting on the rocks.

  The two Donegal Troubles circled the wreck. It was a metal hull, mostly intact except for the rust that was beginning to eat its way into the steel from around the seams. Shawn pointed to two large round holes in the ship’s flank. Paean wondered if he meant that it had been torpedoed down.

  They swam into the bridge through the open door, the thick glass of the windshield still intact. Shawn fumbled with the console a bit and extracted a chip. Paean showed him a thumbs-up. He was getting good at looting. She looked around and spotted the wooden drinks cabinet, the swollen and warped doors still hanging in their rusted hinges. On a whim she forced them open. Inside she found several bottles with different alcoholic contents, amongst them some very old Irish Whisky and some equally ancient Scottish Brandy. And lo and behold, some genuine Jamaican Rum.

  That it had to be the bottle he had just won! Paean smiled. She was going to replace Federi’s rum! She ignored the half-full bottles and stashed three unopened ones in her diver’s pouch. Shawn was casting her some very questioning glances.

  Behind the bottles there was a rust-free safety lock. Some other metal, maybe silver or titanium. She tugged at it. It held firm. Amazing, really. She motioned Shawn over. But even together they couldn’t get that old safe opened.

  They left the bridge and drifted down the spiral staircase, into the upper deck. There was a lot of luxury. This was passenger liner. In the cabins, prizing open some swollen and cracked wooden drawers, Paean found treasure. Jewellery, old coins. Shawn cracked open wooden cupboard doors. Clothes and shoes, in a state of beginning decay. He shook his head. What was the point in looting these?

  Paean got uneasy after a while. They ought to get back with the others. She beckoned to Shawn, and together they cleared out of the wreck and out over the top of the coral and back to where they had left the others.

  A form came swimming towards them at a rate. It turned into Federi. Ronan and Rhine Gold were following at a small distance. The Romany gestured them frantically to surface.

  They surfaced slowly, observing procedure, and followed him back to the ship and up the rope ladder. Federi ripped his mask off.

  “Get dressed,” he snapped. “And then, Shawn and Paean Donegal, I expect to see you in my galley.”

  20 - Treasure

  The two Donegal Troubles stood in shell-shocked silence as Federi let rip. They had never yet seen him angry. Shawn thought he looked like a wild man, with his eyes shooting sparks of fury and the rage radiating off him in waves. Paean stood paralysed, watching in horror how her gentle friend transformed into something nuclear. He had reason, she knew. It didn’t help that she had realized too late that they should have told him where they were going.

  They had breached the first rule of diving and got separated from the instructor. They had dived right out of his sight and disappeared for a long time. They were his responsibil
ity; if something happened to them or they went missing, the consequences were huge. Federi took the opportunity to ruffle Shawn for running away during the excursion earlier that morning. He doomed both Donegals to the scrubbing of pots, decks and heads until Hawaii.

  At some point during Federi’s tirade, Jon Marsden came into the galley to check what was going on. Instantly, Federi was casual, wearing an easy smile.

  “Just making us all some coffee after that dive,” he lied amiably.

  Marsden said nothing and left again. The Donegals had it coming! They were troublemakers. He didn’t envy his friend this task, nor could he take it upon himself. It had to do with respect. Marsden had foreseen this kind of thing happening.

  After the First Mate left the galley, the smile dropped back off Federi’s face. All the fight suddenly drained out of him.

  “Shawn,” he said gloomily, “Paean. I expected better from you both. If anything had happened to either of you…” He frowned darkly and stared out of the starboard porthole at the aquamarine day outside.

  “Sorry, Federi,” said Shawn contritely. He felt guilty. He had led the treasure hunt; Paean had only followed. In any case he took looking after his sister very seriously.

  Paean bolted from the galley.

  “Was I too harsh?” asked the Romany uncertainly, his gaze following the bouncy little livewire. “You two needed to hear it!”

  A few moments later, Paean was back, clutching her diver’s pouch to her, and her green scarf. She sat down, put the pouch on the Ironwood table, wound the scarf around her wet hair gypsy-style, and extracted a still-dripping bottle from the pouch. She handed it to Federi, who stared at it in amazement.

  “Where on earth did you get that?” He turned the gift over and over in his hands. “2015 Jamaican Rum! 20 - 15 -!” he read again, just be sure. “Looks genuine! Hundred years old? Cor!” He looked sharply at Paean. “What on earth have you found down there?”

  Paean upended the treasure from her pouch on the Ironwood table.

  “You found a shipwreck, didn’t you?” asked Federi. He picked up the various items, examining them closely. Rings and chains, and earrings, and fancy cufflinks, in solid gold, studded with genuine stones. His Kalderash fingertips with their hereditary touch for riches detected high-carat diamonds, rubies, pearls. And a few stones he didn’t recognize at all, which bothered him. Had there been new discoveries of precious stones on Planet Earth? Were there stones that had been known before the sixties, of which nothing was catalogued? Were these perhaps manufactured? But they had a natural feel to them. His mind backed away from thinking about it. One paradigm trap was enough for one day.

  The styles of the jewellery varied, but the most recent had to be at least beginning of last century. He looked for items in the elaborate Hectagonite style of the twenties, but found none.

  “Metal hull?” he asked Shawn, his artistic fingers still sifting through the small pile of jewellery. Shawn nodded enthusiastically.

  Federi whistled softly through his teeth and pushed the whole pile back towards Paean.

  “You have it, Federi,” she said spontaneously.

  “But dulciuri, this is a fortune! You have no idea what you’ve got your hands on! I’m amazed you found one that hasn’t been plundered!” He gazed from her to Shawn. No wonder they had forgotten all the rules over the excitement! And an un-plundered shipwreck, this close to land? There was a mystery there, no mistake! “This meeting had better be taken to my cabin,” he suggested. “This place is too noisy.” He got up.

  Paean pocketed her treasure again, seeing that Federi simply left it on the table. She grabbed her coffee mug and followed him and Shawn to the gypsy’s cabin.

  The Donegal sibs entered the cabin with a sense of awe. The door was always closed, so neither of them had ever had a glimpse into it before.

  Most cabins on the ship were fairly frugal, functional. This one was the opposite. It looked like a magical forest of treasures. There were gems, wind chimes and sun catchers suspended from the ceiling as far as the eye could roam, all moving gently with the ship’s rolling on the waves. Across the porthole hung a huge dream-catcher with gems woven into it. Woodcarvings were mounted all along the walls, similar to those carvings in the boardroom and infirmary. The carvings were of ships in storms, wrecks in reefs, sharks, islands and bloody battles on the sea. Paean marvelled at the way they all seemed so alive. There was one that depicted a sunset over the sea, where the artist had transformed the colours and grain of the wood into red and golden sunset glow.

  The gypsy closed the door behind them.

  “When this door closes,” he explained, “everything spoken in here is confidential. Is this understood?”

  Both Donegal siblings nodded. Paean looked worried. No secrets from the Captain, coursed through her head. The very first message that had been imprinted on the Donegals when they were tried for their fugitive state.

  “I’ll put Ronan in the picture,” promised Federi. “I know. Donegals keep no secrets from each other.”

  Paean felt partially relieved. What about the Captain?

  “Now, Paean,” the Romany instructed. “First thing. Never offer Federi your treasure. He’ll take it!”

  “But I want you to have it! You love treasure!”

  He smiled. She had misunderstood. Picking the enemy’s ship clean of electronics and weaponry wasn’t about treasure.

  “Listen, little songbird, it was difficult enough saying no the first time! Don’t push it! Now, second thing, both of you. Why do you go exploring a shipwreck and not tell Federi about it?”

  “Because he’d want to take all the treasure for himself?” hazarded Shawn, following logic.

  “No!” Federi laughed. “I mean, of course he would! Well observed, Donegal! But that wasn’t the point. Why did you leave me out?”

  “We got so excited, I suppose,” said Paean contritely. “We couldn’t think of anything else!”

  Federi smiled sadly. They were still children, regardless. He shouldn’t lose sight of that. Little Paean, so nearly of legal adult status… Of course children and young teens broke the rules at times! In their case, it hadn’t been rebellion but simple thoughtlessness.

  “Did you at least have fun?” he asked with a wink.

  Now the details came pouring out. Shawn and Paean fell over each other recalling all the things they had seen and found on the shipwreck. Shawn laid his electronic findings on the table, Paean the rest of her treasure, small items looted from the passenger cabins.

  “These are interesting,” said Federi, picking up the electronics. “Should we give them to Captain so he can try to make sense of them?”

  Shawn shook his head.

  “Don’t want to tell anybody.”

  “We have to tell Captain,” said Federi. “There isn’t a thing on this ship that ought to be a secret from Captain.”

  Shawn nodded reluctantly. Paean frowned, confused. Hadn’t Federi just said about his cabin…

  “Except what is spoken in this cabin,” added Federi, smiling at her and shaking his head. “So let’s take a vote. We tell him?”

  Paean looked at Shawn. Either way round it felt wrong to her. She decided to grill Federi about it a little later, get to the bottom of all this. Got my own secrets, he had once told her.

  Shawn didn’t seem to have a problem with the concept.

  “It’s your shipwreck,” said Paean to her brother. “You found it. You decide.”

  “I suppose we’d better tell him,” sighed Shawn. He also preferred not having secrets from Captain Lascek.

  Federi nodded approvingly.

  “Good that you decided that,” he said. “I couldn’t have kept you two in my cabin indefinitely. The others would have started wondering where you are!”

  Paean laughed.

  “Now, next time,” Federi said, “call me. I want to be t
here. Anyway those old ships can be dangerous, there have been cases of divers getting stuck in there. What’s the very first rule of diving, Shawn?”

  “Never dive alone,” said Shawn.

  “Now,” said Federi. “I’m going back in there. Are you two coming with me or do I have to go alone?”

  Not much later they were circling the wreck a second time.

  Federi trailed a hand along the hull. Metal, certainly; some or other alloy. There was iron in it, or it wouldn’t have started rusting along the edges. The visor window of the bridge looked like volcaniplex glass. He couldn’t be sure. He’d have to look that up in Sherman’s files, too. He went through the bridge more thoroughly and extracted a lot of electronic circuitry out of the console. It looked well preserved; maybe they would be able to get it running, and find out more.

  He started methodically searching the entire ship.

  The presence of the shipwreck worried him. He knew from Sherman’s ship files that in those days, liners already had satellite-tracking systems. No luxury liner like this one would have sunk and remained un-looted. He had also spotted the holes in the hull. They didn’t look like torpedo damage to him. Everything on the ship looked too well preserved for a hundred years of lukewarm saltwater! The actual items were all congruent with that time frame; their state of decay, not.

  Federi found the galley and unearthed boxes upon boxes of more rum, whiskey and brandy. There was wine and beer too; it would be interesting to see what they had done chemically in a hundred years. The thing to do, he thought, was to bring the Stormrider, and lower crates and fill them with whatever, and take them up to the boat.

  There was a system to his plundering. He knew what to look for and where to search. Next he investigated the cabins, Paean and Shawn following closely behind. The Donegal sibs hadn’t even looted half of the cabins on the passenger deck. They hadn’t been to the lower crew deck at all. Now the three of them swam through the spooky, dark decks, having switched their headlamps on. There was nothing much here. Federi refused to touch the money found in some of these drawers, shaking his head violently when Paean wanted to take some. He’d have to explain to them about the curse of stealing a dead man’s last wages.

  Deeper they went, down through another hatch, into the bilges. Here, in the pitch-dark storage area, only relieved by their torch beams, the real treasure awaited. Old wooden crates full of stuff, transported for those passengers who were emigrating. Furniture, ruined books, some paintings. Federi led them through the entire place, picking out things here and there to show them. There were a number of paintings that had been sealed so tightly in plastic that they weren’t damaged at all.

  And there in the dark, too, lay a clue towards the solution of the puzzle. No skeletons? Here they were, an easy fifteen of them, with the chains still around their hands and feet. Their clothes, that should have mouldered off them an age ago, were still intact. Their skeletons had been picked clean though by the fish; one could see in places where the clothes had been torn at and shredded.

  Fifteen of them. By their attire, the crew and the Captain. If Federi hadn’t been wearing his mouthpiece he would have whistled through his teeth.

  He signalled to the sibs to go to the surface and followed them, observing their surfacing procedure. They were good kids. Doing very well.

  “We’ll have to get help,” he said when they were finally at the surface. “Got to bring the Stormrider. There’s simply too much here. And to leave it to some other pirates to loot…”

  They both agreed; it didn’t bear thinking about.

  Back on the ship, Shawn beckoned Paean to follow him. In the cabin that he shared with Ronan, behind a closed door, he showed her what he had taken off the hobo in the cave. Paean examined it closely. It was some sort of device, that was clear. Heavy, smooth, metallic. No seams or buttons on it whatsoever; still, it had that electronic feel to it.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “Behind the waterfall where we swam. There was a cave, and in the cave there was a drunk hobo lying sleeping, and it had fallen out of his hand.”

  “You stole it off a drunken hobo?”

  “Face it, sis, he’s probably stolen it himself.”

  “Shawn!” Paean frowned terribly. “Looting an ancient shipwreck is one thing. But stealing stuff off people? You’re now learning the wrong stuff from your gypsy friend!”

  “Paean! He’s your friend too!”

  “Course he is. Doesn’t mean I condone stealing! Could be the hobo had it given to him by some rich tourist whom he helped in some way. You never know these things! You’re returning this to its owner, tomorrow first thing! Early. And Shawn, I’m going with you, and I think it’s a good idea to tell at least one adult on this ship where we are going. Technically we ought to tell the Captain.”

  “In practice it’s enough if we tell Federi,” said Shawn. “Although he won’t understand.”

  “He will, Shawn. He’s got his principles too.”

  Dusk was already settling over Atuona when the divers returned to the Solar Wind in the Stormrider. Rhine Gold, Ronan and Rushka had helped Federi and the younger Donegals loot the cruiser. Jon Marsden had insisted on staying aboard. He was responsible for the Solar Wind in the Captain’s absence. Still between the six of them, the salvage team had managed to get quite a bit of treasure loaded onto the motorboat.

  Paean went to shower off the salt and headed to her cabin. She was only going to lie down for a moment before checking on all the things she needed to check on. And Wolf! She stared at the plastered-over camera in the corner of her cabin. Nobody had removed the plaster. She wondered idly if there were cameras at all in Federi’s cabin, or if that privilege was reserved for new crew.

  All the images of the day came back to her. It had been an enormously full day. It could easily have fitted into four or five days without losing lustre. She had learnt a lot. The mystery of the Solar Wind was deepening. Loyalty to the point of getting yourself shot! And ancient white scars crisscrossing all over Federi’s sun-bronzed hide. Wind chimes. The one that got away? What on Earth was that supposed to mean? And Rushka, always hiding. And Atuona! A chewed-off finger. Skeletons in the bilges of the wreck, chained forever to their doom. The Dead Man’s Wage. Anna bottle, specifically, of rum! She smiled and didn’t realize that she had already wandered off into dreamland.

  “I don’t have to like it,” Federi confided in his friend Marsden. “Want to get away from the island. Got this feeling. There’s something very nasty wrong here.”

  “Think the wreck is a set-up?” asked Marsden lightly.

  “That wreck is an incredible baksheesh for the Donegals,” said Federi. “Course we can’t just abandon it!”

  “But you ignore your hunches at your peril,” Marsden reminded him. “Think it has anything to do with our vanishing lizard?”

  Federi grimaced. “That one,” he said. “Can’t just assume that a whole bunch of vanishing lizards ate the passengers and tied up the crew and sunk the liner and then disappeared! Sheesh! Haven’t had time yet to look in Sherman’s files!”

  “I’ve been looking,” said Marsden.

  Federi nodded. His friend need say no more. Marsden found what he searched for, or it wasn’t there. Federi knew that the First Mate would in any case go back into the files again and search again, true to his obsessive character. He himself would still dig too, he thought. In keeping with his own compulsive nature! Always the suspicion that there was some more treasure he or others had overlooked.

  “So, the two incidents are not related,” summarized Marsden.

  “My friend, how often did we land here before?”

  “Many times!”

  “And how often have we gone diving?”

  “Plenty!”

  “And we’ve never seen this wreck before?”

  Marsden nodded grimly.


  “What’s it look like with the negotiations?” asked Federi. “Bin so busy keeping the young crew out of scrapes, I forget to update myself.”

  “As you know,” replied Marsden, “Doc and Sherman and Dr Jake are still ashore with Captain. How they are doing I’m not sure, but cast-off is scheduled for tomorrow noon.”

  “Tomorrow noon,” repeated Federi. So there was enough time to organize the systematic recovery of the treasure tomorrow morning. He glanced through the volcaniplex windshield of the bridge. Outside dusk was settling over the lagoon like an exhausted grey haze. Supper, then check on everyone…

  Marsden was saying something.

  “Sorry, Jon?”

  “Captain says Benita’s being difficult. She’s got all sorts of ifs and buts. She’s holding up the works.”

  “That’s strange,” said Federi. “Always seen her as a sensible, down-to-Earth person!”

  “Might have something to do with Angelina,” replied Marsden. “I’ll tell you, that’s going to send a ripple through the Rebellion! Blasted Sancho! If Captain hadn’t killed him, I would have!”

  “And me,” agreed the gypsy. “Hell’s rockets!”

  “Not so convinced anymore that we’re right about Ailyss,” added Marsden. “Beginning to think Paean Donegal is the agent, Federi.”

  The Romany frowned. Hells’ jingles! He knew for a fact that little Paean couldn’t be the agent! He was the one who’d talked Captain into hiring those three! What was going on now? He’d have to investigate, he decided. He sighed.

  Talk about overload! Vanishing lizards, killed tourists – on Hiva Oa! Sunken treasure ships that weren’t supposed to be there, with fifteen skeletons in the bilges – and quietly, in the background, intrigues on the ship! He was the self-appointed guardian, the ghost of the Solar Wind; there wasn’t anything on the ship that wasn’t his responsibility.

  Sometimes the whole darned thing felt like a puppet theatre, with him the puppeteer and all the puppets dancing out of line, and him having to unravel all the tangles. His mind ticked over and he withdrew to the galley.

  Wolf lowered the novel he was reading. It took special skill to read such a weathered book; the print on the silica-imbued paper was so faded by now, and the paper component of the page so yellowed, a lot of it was a guessing game. Especially in the deepening dusk. But it kept his mind off the pain…

  He peered at the dark-haired girl who had appeared in the infirmary.

  “Hey, Wolf,” said Ailyss.

  “Hey, Ailyss!”

  “How’s the knee?”

  “Painful.”

  Without a word she left. Wolf stared after her, uncertain what to make of this encounter. But a few seconds later she was back with a small turquoise pill and a glass of water. She held both out to him. Wolf took them warily.

  “What’s that?”

  “Codeine.”

  “Where do you get those?” he asked, swallowing the pill down.

  “Drug store,” said Ailyss with a shrug. “I use them periodically.”

  Wolf grinned. “I see.”

  “All’s fine in the machine room,” added Ailyss. She sat down on the second bunk. “Nuclear drives nuking away happily to themselves, everything else quiet.”

  “Thanks,” smiled Wolf. Heck, that was thoughtful of her!

  She peered at the novel he was still holding. “Can you read that?”

  “Contrary to appearances,” said Wolf with a half-grin that favoured his injured cheek, “I am in fact literate!”

  Ailyss laughed. Wolf half-smiled. She was gorgeous.

  “I’ve got some that are in better condition,” she told him. “Want to borrow them?”

  “Would like to, thanks.”

  “When you’re done with these, can I read them?”

  “Sure!”

  They spent a few more loaded moments saying nothing.

  “Just wanted to check in on you,” said Ailyss eventually.

  “Thanks,” said Wolf once again.

  “Paean’s a good kid,” said Ailyss out of context.

  “Yup!”

  “Don’t give her so much uphill!”

  Wolf narrowed his eyes at her. “Did she send you to give me that message?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! She’s asleep in her cabin, in ducky pyjamas, just thought you’d like to know.”

  “Ducky pyjamas!” Wolf smiled again with the left-hand side of his face. “Now there’s an entertaining thought!”

  “I’ll leave you to that thought,” said Ailyss, got up and left without a sound.

  “Ducky pyjamas,” repeated Wolf to himself, shaking his head.

  21 - Traitor

  Early the next morning Shawn and Paean went to find Federi. He was in the Crow’s Nest experimenting softly on a tin whistle he’d borrowed from Ronan. No real tunes. Birdcalls and the likes.

  “Morning, Federi,” they called up to him.

  “Morning, you two.”

  “Come down,” called Paean. “We want to talk to you!”

  Federi got a sly smile.

  “If you want me, come up!”

  Shawn clambered up in a couple of seconds.

  “You too,” Federi told Paean. She groaned.

  “Do I really have to?”

  “And you’re calling Wolf a big baby?” laughed Federi.

  “Manipulator!” fumed Paean and slowly inched her way into the rigging and then eventually into the Crow’s Nest. “Shawn, you could have told Federi yourself!”

  “But I’m not the one who wants to do this,” objected Shawn. “It wouldn’t be logical for me to make this easy for you!”

  “Little monster!”

  “Hey, hey. What’s going on here?” asked Federi. “Do the Donegals ever quarrel?”

  “Not as a rule,” said Paean. “Federi, no offence, but this is your fault. Somehow Shawn got the idea that stealing is cool.”

  Federi frowned. “What?”

  “He’s taken something off a drunk guy he found in a cave.”

  Shawn showed Federi his “find”. The Tzigan stared at it with wide eyes.

  “That cave by the rock pools where we had a swim yesterday?”

  “Yup,” said Shawn happily. “So now we’re going to return it, and we’ll be back in time to help with the treasure. Just wanted to tell you so you know where we are.”

  Federi held out his hand. Shawn gave him the little item, and Federi turned it over and over, staring at it from all angles. Then his hand closed tightly around it and it vanished into his pocket.

  “You’re not taking anything back,” he warned. “You got no idea what this is.”

  “But we want to give it back to the man!” protested Paean. “It’s his! I can understand about your stealing, Federi, you’re a Free Gypsy, but not Shawn. He’s got no reason to learn that habit!”

  Federi glared at her.

  “My bad habits are my bad habits,” he said softly, tightly controlled rage edging his voice. “They got nothing to do with my Kalderash roots! Leave my people out of it! The Romanian Tzigany do not steal! They stick to the wild parts! And the gadje have their fair share of thieves too! Bigger thieves and worse ethics!”

  “That’s why we want to return it,” retorted Paean angrily. “There’s no way my brother is turning into one of those!”

  “Paean, you and Shawn are not going anywhere! Nowhere, do you read me? In fact, I believe the galley’s floor needs a scrub!”

  Paean stared at Federi in disbelief. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Both of you are still in disgrace! Bout diving off without telling me! Now go wash the deck! Scoot!”

  Marsden was up too. He was surprised when Federi sought him out in his cabin.

  “Got something here,” said the Romany. “Have a look.”

  Marsden looked at the item and whistled through his teeth.

  “This is it,” said Federi.


  The First Mate nodded thoughtfully as Federi relayed the story to him.

  “And Paean tried to return it, you say?” he pointed out with a significantly raised eyebrow.

  Federi rolled his eyes. “She’s just ignorant, Jon! She had no cooking clue what she held in her hands there! If she were an agent, I doubt she’d have come to me with this!”

  “There’s that,” agreed Jon Marsden, wondering why he detected anger in his friend’s voice.

  The galley’s floor wasn’t the end of the world. Scrubbing it could be accomplished in a few minutes, if one knew the shortcuts. Paean had figured out all the shortcuts to scrubbing floors back in Dublin and shared them with her brothers. Shawn and Paean got busy.

  “I think I’ll tell the Captain about this one,” said Paean through her teeth. “This can’t be right!”

  Just then Marsden popped into the galley.

  “Federi told me I could find you here, Paean. Your patient needs you.”

  Paean nodded, not even realizing how surly she looked that moment. Marsden smiled at her.

  “Paean, trust me, your friend knows what he’s doing. You’re an honest girl for wanting to return that piece. But it would be extremely dangerous for you and your brother to go back. That’s all I’ll say now.”

  This made Paean feel somewhat better, although to her, the whole thing reeked. She flung her floor cloth into the bucket and went looking for Doc Judith.

  Guilt niggled at her about Wolf. Yesterday in the excitement of the treasure, all of them had completely forgotten that they wanted to ask the Doc to have a look at the savage Wolf. In fact they had so forgotten about him, she wondered if anyone had bothered to bring him supper! Poor Wolf! She resolved to take her role as nurse much more seriously.

  “In the first place,” Doc Judith greeted her as she entered the infirmary, “how long were the two of you going to keep me in the dark?”

  Paean stared at her, taken aback. What did she mean?

  “Medicine is not a game, Paean Donegal,” scolded the Doc. “I’ll pull that Federi’s skin over his ears too for only telling me now! Hell knows! I thought, a couple of cuts and bruises, like this lout is prone to get whenever he sets foot in a pub. But bullets, and shattered kneecaps! I’d have thought you’d call me right away!”

  “We were scared,” admitted Paean.

  “Scared! Of me?” The Doc paused. That stood to reason, actually. Paean had just experienced Doc Judith’s sternest side. “And you, Wolf Svendsson! You ought to have called for me!”

  “Was scared too,” grinned Wolf.

  “If you lose a leg, Captain will put you ashore, you know it!” snapped the Doc.

  Wolf went silent. And pale. Paean thought that there were unhealthy red fever spots in his cheeks.

  The Doc had a close-up look at Wolf’s cheek and praised Paean for a job well done. Despite its gruesome condition yesterday, thanks to her intervention it looked much better today. It would heal straight and clean now. Paean warily accepted the praise. Wolf gave her a lopsided smile, trying to avoid using the injured cheek. A conspirator’s smile. They were on the same side against a formidable foe: The angry Doc.

  The knee was a different story. As the Doc removed first the cast and then the bandaging, the smell hit. Paean’s stomach turned. She glanced at the wound and squeezed her eyes shut, sitting down on the other bunk.

  “Urgh!”

  “Got to operate that right away,” said the Doc. “See, Paean, these red lines travelling up – Paean?”

  “Just a seccie,” said Paean, breathing slowly.

  “You’ve got a co-ex,” said the Doc, frowning at her assistant.

  “Just queasy,” said Paean.

  “A co-ex is a memory short-cut to some dramatic event in your past,” explained the Doc. “Paean, you can’t study medicine if you can’t handle blood. Get over it!”

  “I know,” said Paean. She was beginning to feel a bit better. “Working on it!”

  “Here,” said Doc Judith and filled a glass with water and stuck it in Paean’s hand. “Drink!”

  Paean sipped obediently. Her stomach relaxed. She opened her eyes. Wolf was staring at her wide-eyed.

  “Did you observe sterile procedures when you operated?” asked the Doc.

  “I used gloves,” said Paean. “And I used new scalpel blades and the rest of the tools were from the sterile drawer. Federi opened a new pack for me.”

  “Did you wear a mask?”

  “I did,” said Paean.

  “And was there anyone helping you?”

  “Federi and Shawn.”

  “Were they wearing masks and gloves?”

  Paean thought back. “Federi was. Shawn wasn’t. But he didn’t touch anything!”

  “That defeats the object,” said the Doc. “Did you sterilize the air with ethanol spray the way I showed you?”

  “Forgot,” said Paean sheepishly.

  “Well, that explains it!” exclaimed Doc Judith. “There you have your reason for the wound sepsis!”

  Paean grimaced. “Gods, Wolf, I’m sorry! Made a mess!”

  “Relax, Paean,” said Wolf. “It’s going to be alright. You did what you could. ’s probably my fault for walking around the first morning!”

  “You walked on this?!” exclaimed the doctor. “Why?”

  “I was being a pinhead,” admitted Wolf.

  “You certainly were, mister! That explains it! You’re risking losing this leg! What a mess!”

  Paean shrivelled smaller and smaller.

  “You should have woken me up that night, Paean!” scolded the Doc. “And you – pinhead! I only hope you’ve learnt to respect doctor’s orders, even if they come from our natural healer!”

  Paean looked ready to cry.

  “Only hope we can rescue that leg,” added the Doc.

  “I’ll live.” Wolf gave Paean a comforting half-grin.

  “Paean, please prepare your anaesthetic for me,” said the Doc. “This can’t wait. I’m going in right away.”

  Paean hopped to it. She put some Valeriensis decoction into some rum for Wolf, as he didn’t seem to mind it as much that way. As Wolf’s consciousness slipped away, he briefly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. Paean heaved a shuddering sigh that was on its way to turning into a sob.

  “Oh no!” The Doc nailed her with a scathing glare. “You’re not going to cry! There’s no time!”

  Paean obediently swallowed back her tears and got on with putting on sterile gloves and a mask.

  The treasure team was waiting for Federi to give them instructions. Eventually Ronan extracted Shawn from the galley.

  “Where’s Federi?” he questioned him.

  “No cooking clue!”

  So Shawn led the way. They started loading the remaining contents of the sunken vessel onto the Stormrider. The going was slower than yesterday. Today there were only four of them: Himself, Ronan, Rhine Gold and Rushka. Shawn thought she looked fascinating with her long red hair streaming around her head like seaweed.

  Around noon Rushka called them together on the Stormrider. The sea was rather choppy now; clouds were conspiring above them.

  “Guys, I’ve got a message from the Captain. The senior crew is back aboard. We should come; Captain wants to raise anchor.”

  “We’re not done yet,” objected Shawn.

  Rushka nailed him with a stare from her rather interesting green eyes. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled.

  “Shawn, your treasure is important. But the stuff the seniors have been discussing takes precedence. Far, far more important!”

  “How do you know?” challenged Shawn.

  “Because I’m an officer,” said Rushka. “Come now, crew! Let’s get back aboard!”

  “There you are!” Radomir Lascek greeted the diving team. He, Dr Jake and Ailyss helped unload the treasure into the storage deck of the Solar Wind. Lascek t
ook Rushka aside.

  “Where are Federi and Jon?”

  “I don’t know, Captain. They didn’t come with us!”

  Radomir Lascek stared at his daughter in dismay. He’d assumed that Federi and Marsden were naturally looting with the others! In which case, where were they? This put a square spanner in his works!

  “Nobody informed me! Who would know where they are?”

  “It was only me and Sherman and the diving team aboard this morning,” said Rushka. “And Doc, I think. Maybe she knows.”

  She ran off to find Doc Judith. Radomir Lascek paged his veteran.

  “They went off to the island this morning, Captain. Dr Jake took them, in the Stormrider. He’s waiting for their signal to pick them up again.”

  “Did they say when they’d be back?”

  “No, Captain. But they are aware that the cast-off was scheduled for now.”

  Radomir Lascek sighed. His First Mate was reliable. But even the most reliable person might get delayed sometimes. Who knew what strange mission they were pursuing! Marsden had touched on that all was not quite as it seemed on the island.

  Well, the cast-off wasn’t written in stone. The Solar Wind could wait a little. Two hours wouldn’t make the critical difference.

  “Got to get the ship into deeper water,” he commented as the Solar Wind pitched hazardously towards the rocks. “They’ll be safe from the storm on land. We’ll submerge. We can pick them up when this squall is over.”

  Slowly the beautiful Zephyr unfurled her sails and moved out of the rocky, churning bay, into much deeper waters. Sherman was taking over the duty of First Mate for the time, checking on everything. Once she was out behind the breakers, he heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Haven’t done First Mating in a while,” he declared. “It’s a hard job! Wouldn’t want to do it every day!”

  The two men approached the place with caution.

  “Here,” said Marsden and indicated the ground.

  “Blast me,” replied Federi. A three-toed footprint! Only one. He searched, but couldn’t find any more. He studied the trees but couldn’t find any scorch marks either. Maybe those burnt bits on the beach had nothing to do with the tracks. “Well done, buddy,” he said. “We’ll make a tracker of you yet!”

  “So old Three-Toes was here,” said Marsden.

  Federi eyed the waterfall behind the rock pools. He had been to that little cave before! He wondered…

  “In there,” he said softly, indicating. “That’s where he picked it up!”

  They approached the cave quietly, staying hidden as far as they could. Whatever might be in there could be intelligent. Shawn had been incredibly lucky not to be eaten just like that poor guy on the beach! Federi iced, thinking about it.

  “I’ll go in first,” he said. “You cover me out here!”

  Marsden nodded. Federi readied his semiautomatic handgun and inched into the cave.

  It was as Shawn had described. There were empty bottles, rubbish, a dead fire site. A bit further on was the sleeping hobo. The Romany took one look at him. Poisoned. Just to confirm, he knelt down, looking more closely. He was right. The man was dead. Black rings had formed under his nail beds and his face and body were puffed up ready to explode by now.

  Federi frowned. Shawn had spoken of a sleeping hobo. He doubted that the kid was so dense that he’d have missed those signs! They were blatant. But maybe – yes, that had to be it: Shawn had been here a very short time after the man had died, or perhaps even before! This was a very fresh case, days fresher than the one on the beach. And yet they were connected, by vice of a three-toed print…

  As children, back in Romania, they had carved weird shapes out of wood to make “alien footprints”, he remembered. Perhaps this was such a trick. But then he ought to have picked up the footprints of the trickster. Unless the latter was an experienced tracker himself of course and knew how to cover. A completely wayward little theory; but the only real logical explanation he could think of at this point. He still felt that he was wrong. There was that wall, that paradigm trap in his mind. And besides, why would anyone waste time playing such silly games when a murder was involved – rather than just simply disappear and leave no evidence?

  Which still left the mystery of where all the bones of the other casualty had gone. It all made less sense the longer he picked at it.

  A small unusual sound over the rush of the waterfall triggered Federi’s finely tuned senses. The three-toed predator? He got up and flowed into the shadows in one sleek, swift movement. Federi was well honed at becoming invisible, even to wild animals.

  “Don’t move,” said a low voice by his ear. He felt the barrel of a gun poking into his neck. Slowly Federi raised his hands, dropping his gun. Urgh! Someone else had experience being invisible too!

  Paean and the Doc came up from below deck. Both of them looked pretty worn down now. The operation had lasted several hours. Wolf had started coming to at one point, at which the Doc had rigged a drip with standard issue anaesthetic and put Paean in charge of all that, including his vital signs. Paean had worried every nerve in her body raw. She was one heap of overanxious jitters right now.

  “That was a nasty one! Usually Federi would have assisted,” said Doc Judith. “He’s an old hand with that. Wonder where he is!”

  Federi! Paean’s teeth gnashed. Her other urgent mission had just come burning back to her!

  She spotted the Captain emerging from the bridge and zoomed in on him.

  “Captain, I need to discuss something.”

  The Captain gave her a considering gaze. She looked upset.

  “Alright, young lady,” said Captain Lascek, motioning her onto the bridge.

  Paean looked nervous. She hadn’t been face to face with the Captain like this ever since the Panama incident.

  “So make it short,” he prompted.

  “Captain, I just thought – Federi said, nothing happening on this ship should be kept secret from you.”

  This didn’t sound promising. “Go on,” said the Captain with a frown.

  Suddenly all of this didn’t seem such a good idea anymore. Hadn’t Federi said once that people who spilt each other’s secrets didn’t deserve friends? She looked uncertainly at the Captain.

  “Go on,” Lascek urged a second time.

  Oh, in for a penny…

  “Captain, I feel that this morning something happened that wasn’t right.”

  She came out with the entire story, with Shawn running ahead and getting separated from them, finding the cave behind the waterfall and stealing the device from the sleeping hobo; her insisting that he return it; them informing Federi and him confiscating the item and dooming them to wash the floor.

  “And then I had to assist Doc with fixing up Wolf’s knee, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to you before now, sir.”

  Captain Lascek’s frown deepened. He started pacing up and down.

  Paean felt miserable. Oh, Federi! She had betrayed his friendship! She should have kept her big trap shut!

  “Please, Captain, don’t be mad with him,” she put in. “It’s only in his nature, he can’t help the way he is, just – I don’t want Shawn turning into a thief!”

  Captain Lascek stopped pacing and fixed her with a steel-blue stare.

  “This is a lot more serious than me getting angry, little Paean,”, he said. “Federi and Marsden could be in serious danger. Could you identify the item? There’s a chance he’s left it in his cabin.”

  When the Captain and Paean entered Federi’s cabin, she felt even more like a traitor. The Captain however seemed little worried about the details of the ornate realm; he went straight to the squat carved chest of drawers and opened them one by one. Federi’s clothes and personal belongings were in there, neatly organized; there weren’t many, but all were colourful and decorated with “treasure” all over. Two of the four drawers wer
e devoted exclusively to treasure. Not so neat. Jumbled heaps. In one of them, amongst a lot of Shawn and Federi’s electronic pickings from the shipwreck and probably from the Hun, Paean instantly spotted the device. She picked it up and handed it to the Captain.

  Lascek’s features darkened to match the storm outside.

  22 - Old Leather

  Federi’s blindfold had been removed. This did not alleviate anything as it was pitch dark where he lay tied up, dumped unceremoniously on the floor. There was water; Federi lay in a puddle of it. He knew exactly where he was anyway: He had been in the bilges of ships often enough.

  He had been stripped of all weapons – that was, all weapons they could find. This didn’t leave him many options. His captors had spoken very little beyond pushing him on, marching him and Marsden all the way across the island. By the position of the sun blasting in their necks Federi had known that they were going west. He had turned back once, blindfold and all, to confirm the position of the morning sun and had received another bruise for it. One bruise. Not a bad price for such information.

  He and Marsden had tried to exchange a few words but immediately felt the barrels of guns being rammed into their ribs.

 

  They had walked over a jetty and onto a ship. There was no way Federi could ever mistake those sensations for anything else. This meant that there had to be a sheltered harbour on the far side of Hiva Oa. This was very interesting. The harbour had not existed a year ago, when Federi was here last; also, Atuona’s beach tower hadn’t exactly advertised its existence.

  “Take care, buddy,” had been Federi’s parting words to Marsden, which had cost him another bruise to his ribcage; and then they had shoved him roughly down the hatch and he had tumbled all the way down the wooden stepladder into the dark, to where he lay now, in a puddle of cool seawater sloshing around him. Someone had forcefully ripped off his blindfold, the decorations of his scarf catching in it and almost tearing his scalp from his head.

  “Stupid jingly paradise-bird,” the man had commented, throwing Federi’s treasure-laden scarf on the ground next to him. Federi had received a parting kick, then the man had left, throwing one backward glance at him out of a sparsely bearded face. As he climbed out of the hatch, silhouetted against the dim light of the lower deck, Federi sized him up. He wasn’t too tall; possibly as short as the gypsy himself. Long straggly hair. His cheekbones were crassly high-set. And he was armed to the teeth, it appeared. Pirate or terrorist, had been Federi’s assessment; possibly both. Oh hell, there would be some target practice again some time soon!

  Federi wondered how Marsden fared. They were keeping the two of them separate, so he could hope that Marsden was somewhat more comfortable. On the other hand it was possible that they were torturing Marsden to extract information. It would have been Shawn and Paean instead. Federi shuddered at the thought.

  His ribcage was aching from the fall; but he had rolled, instinctively, the way he had learnt before he could even remember. Had it been Shawn, the boy might have broken his neck. His left side on which he had landed was beginning to feel numb. He wormed his way out of the shifting puddle as best he could, looking for higher ground. Didn’t these terrorists ever pump their bilges out? It felt as though a suction pump had been fastened to his head, sucking his consciousness away. Federi fought the whirlpool; he had to stay alert, his captors might return any moment.

  Fancy Shawn finding the missing part! How did the vanishing lizard tie into that?

  The ship began to roll a bit. Federi realized that she was moving. This was bad news! Where were he and Marsden being abducted to?

  In any case it wasn’t part of his greater plan to drown in a puddle of stinking water in the bottom of a Rebel ship! The Romany moved in his bonds and smiled a vicious little smile. It glinted. Alright! Siesta was over! Tying Federi down was a moot thing. Federi was the one who got away. Consistently.

  Shawn and Paean sat together in the deserted galley. Shawn was stressing over the device he’d picked off the hobo. It was dark outside; Captain had decided to submerge the Solar Wind to protect her rigging. Shawn felt guilty. He should have told the Captain straight away about the device instead of trying to play treasure.

  Paean listened to her little brother with half an ear. Her mind was on Federi – her friend whom she had betrayed. Where was he? Were he and the First Mate only sitting in Atuona in a stinky pub waiting out the rain? Or had they got stuck somehow?

  She had an impression of him caught in a dark place. Alone. He was not exactly afraid or hurt; but he was in trouble. Aw, Federi! She’d had no idea how serious this thing with the darned device was until she’d seen the Captain react.

  Ronan joined them in the galley, and Rhine Gold wasn’t far behind. Shawn updated them.

  “This is bad, very bad,” said Ronan. “What about Federi and Marsden? What do you think has happened? Think they’ve come to grief? Does the Captain have a plan?”

  “If he does, he isna telling us,” said Shawn.

  “I can’t see how he can have a plan, if we have no idea what happened to the two,” added Paean.

  “What is that device anyway?” asked Rhine Gold.

  Paean shrugged. She had no clue. All she knew was that it was important, probably to the Unicate and the Rebellion too. Captain hadn’t been too elaborate in his explanations.

  “I suppose the logical thing is go ashore and find that cave,” suggested Rhine Gold. “Take it from there!”

  Paean frowned. She wasn’t going to argue with the logical Hamburger. Only somehow it felt to her as though doing that would be the worst mistake of them all.

  Old Sherman looked into the galley. “Paean, Wolf wants you,” he said with a deep frown. Paean looked at him and shot to her feet.

  “I’m on my way,” she said.

  “Him again,” mumbled Rhine Gold. Paean’s back straightened out all of a sudden. She glared at Rhine Gold from a dizzying height – for her.

  “Listen, Reinhold. You have no idea what kind of pain the man is going through. He can use every friend he can get right now, and then some. Why don’t you pay him a visit?”

  “Sorry, Paean! Didn’t know you were so touchy about this.”

  Ronan rose to his sister’s side. “She’s right, you know, Rhine Gold. She’d do no less for any of us. Kindly get off her case with your petty jealousy.”

  Rhine Gold stared at the two Donegals, speechless for the moment, a high colour creeping into his face from the tip of his beard to the tips of his ears.

  “Thanks, Ro. Later, Whine Gold,” said Paean curtly and spun on her heel, marching off to the infirmary.

  Shawn came galloping after. “Wait up, sis, I’m coming with you!”

  “You’re a darling, Shawn!”

  Federi sat rubbing his sore joints to restore circulation. Once he could feel his fingertips again, he felt about for his scarf and found it.

  “Aw, to hell they all sailed on their motorized yacht!” he cursed, wringing the water out of it. He inspected the decorations by touch and found them still complete, with only one little earring having torn off. That one had luckily been only an ordinary bead anyway. An emerald or a topaz, he couldn’t quite remember. He tied the scarf around his head again. It was damp and horrible. He made a few attempts at standing up.

  The vessel was moving without any engine noise, so she was probably running electrically on stored up solar power. The roll of the ship had increased dramatically. Federi could smell and feel that there was a storm going on outside; the storm that had been brewing all morning. He wondered if he had passed out there for a second, experiencing a time lapse.

  They were definitely out of the harbour now. No ship rolled this badly in a sheltered bay! He moved around the bilges a bit, finding crates of cargo, more water and some very lively rats. Oh well, at least there wasn’t much risk of starving in case they forgot him down
here. This polite society really didn’t take very good care of their vessel! It would be no surprise at all when she sank.

  He wedged himself between some crates and settled into waiting out the storm. Before that abated, there wasn’t much hope for putting his plan into action. In case someone came in, he pulled his stiletto blade out of his sleeve where the sheath had been sown into the material right along the seam.

  He wondered if the Solar Wind’s crew had managed to load all the treasure from the shipwreck before the storm hit. And how a hundred-year-old shipwreck had suddenly appeared on a coral reef they had been over probably twenty times in the past. It was creepy.

  His mind moved back to this morning and little Paean chewing him out for Shawn learning to steal. Blaming the Tzigany… like gadje had done since the dawn of time. He shook his head sadly. She was very young. She couldn’t know. He would have to educate her a little. And where Shawn was concerned… he rolled his eyes. He supposed she had a point. He’d better change his thieving ways a bit. He wondered if Marsden had managed to decrypt – aw hell, Marsden was caught, just like him! He seriously hoped that little Paean had the sense to tell Captain about the capsule.

  The data capsule Shawn had picked off that man was the second half to Anya Miller’s capsule. He was willing to bet his head on that! A picture began to emerge. Anya reporting in panic about the capsule gone from her ship. The other half, without which decryption was not possible, being rushed to safety by the Unicate. To Hawaii – or Hong Kong, or Perth… who knew. Two Unicate agents meeting on Hiva Oa for the transfer of the capsule. The Rebellion cottoning on… sending a vanishing lizard to eat the contact on the beach… no. The Rebellion coming sniffing around the cave, where the second man had already received the capsule and was lying dying from poisoning… The exploding lizard eating the Rebellion…

  Aargh! Federi shook his head. He resolved to leave the combining to Jon and Captain. Hells, he hoped they weren’t actually torturing Marsden! If they did, if they managed to pry the location of the data capsule out of him, then it was doom for the Solar Wind!

  He sat and listened to the ship, and after a while he slipped into a half-tranced doze.

  Radomir Lascek was feverishly decrypting the contents of the data capsule. Sherman and Dr Jake were there with him, decoding too and copying the data over into ship files. He was delighted finally to have his hands on the information. The actual information that was coming out of the capsule was hair-raising. He’d have to rethink; re-plan. His original plans were never going to pan out now! He needed something larger, and fast!

  He was also deeply concerned about the fate of his two sailors. Right now he was trawling for clues, indications of where to start looking to rescue the two – if they were still alive.

  Paean, with Shawn on her heels, arrived in the infirmary and stared in alarm. Wolf looked terrible. His eyes were bright and shiny; his cheeks had dark spots of high fever in them while the rest of his face was white as a sheet. He stretched out a hand as she came in, and tried to tell her something. His mouth was so dry that she couldn’t understand what he was saying.

  “Water!” she exclaimed. “Ye Powers, you poor fellow!” She charged over to the tap and grabbed the nearest receptacle – an empty metal beaker – and filled it. “There, drink that!”

  Wolf tried taking the cup; it slipped out of his grasp and spilt on the floor. Paean picked it up and refilled it, and sat down on the edge of the bunk with it. Her hand went automatically to his forehead. He was burning up! She tried to cover her fright.

  “Can you sit up?”

  Wolf tried sitting up. Paean tried supporting him with her arm around his back. She had done this so often for Mother… except that it didn’t want to work, because Wolf was solid and muscular! Mother had weighed nothing, in the end. Literally faded away. Paean could have lifted her and carried her about, except that she had bruised at the lightest touch. And then the fever…

  “Are you alright, Pae?” asked Shawn.

  She sniffed. “Grab those pillows from the other bunk and stuff them in his back, Shawney! Got to get liquids into this old piece of furniture here.”

 

  Shawn obeyed. Paean hoisted Wolf up a little, with his own added efforts, and Shawn quickly placed the pillows. Paean held the beaker with water for Wolf while he drank thirstily.

  “There! If we can just get enough liquids into you…” She put the empty beaker down and injected Wolf with a potent painkiller. Heavy guns. She sat down again and put her hand on his forehead and kept it there, as it seemed to have a soothing effect on him. On her. On them both.

  “Don’t let me die,” muttered Wolf.

  “Shawn!” Paean’s voice struck panic pitch as she turned to her little brother. “Please run and get the Doc. This is very bad!”

  Shawn scooted off, breaking the speed limit. He was glad that the Solar Wind was submerged, because he had tried running in a storm before when she hadn’t been.

  Paean measured Wolf’s temperature. Dangerously high. Ye Gods, the Fever!

  “Wolf,” she begged, stroking his limp black hair out of his face, “hang in there! Don’t die! Don’t do this to me!”

  She refilled the beaker and fed him some more water. This would never be enough.

  “You’ll be fine,” she told him resolutely, then she hunted for something that could be used as a long, flexible straw. “You’re young and strong and you can beat this! Least it’s not a darned Unicate virus!” Only a situation Paean has landed you in, she thought, gnashing her teeth. There were several sterile tubes in a drawer, the type that was used for IV drips. She could use one of these tubes as a straw for Wolf, and she’d also ask Doc to put up a drip for him.

  Wolf moaned, and she turned around just in time to see his eyes flip back and him starting to thrash about. Fever convulsions! She watched with wide frightened eyes.

  Shawn entered the yellow Sick Bay with Doc Judith.

  “Oh no,” said Doc Judith, assessing the situation. “This will never do! Paean, give him a bit of your green wonder bug! Don’t want him pulling stitches!”

  Paean loaded some of her decoction into a syringe and handed it to the Doc. She and Shawn hung onto Wolf’s arm while Doc Judith injected the sedative into his vein. The stress went out of Wolf’s face and he went limp.

  “Oh, hell,” said Paean. Her throat ached from fighting down tears. She didn’t dare to cry in the presence of the Doc though. “Doc, I think he’s dehydrated and must get a drip right away. He’s running a high fever. I’ve given him this,” and she showed the Doc the painkiller she had given him.

  “Wound sepsis can be very dangerous,” said Dr Judith, sealing and discarding the syringe. “You did right calling me! Careful there for his kidneys and liver. If a patient’s dehydrated and you give him chemical drugs, there’s always a risk. Let’s get that drip going.” She showed Paean how to insert the needle of the drip; then Paean secured it and the IV line with a long plaster strip. Soon the saline was flowing. “Paean, how did Wolf get that dehydrated anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” whispered Paean. “We were all so busy…”

  Shawn moved quietly to the door and escaped.

  “You immobilize the man in the infirmary, fail to tell the doctor and then leave him to his fate?” challenged the doctor.

  Paean swallowed back her tears. She didn’t deserve to cry about this. If he died…

  A heart monitor and thermometer were connected to Wolf, displaying his vital signs on the screen and also as audible blips, a different frequency from the submarine radar blips.

  “See now,” soothed the Doc. “You can see that his heart rate is strong, and his brain activity is good. Probably dreaming.”

  Paean sniffed. “Should I check on the knee?”

  “No. We only just closed it up. We’ll have a look at it first thing tomorrow morning.” Sh
e added more antibiotic into the IV drip. “Now you relax,” she instructed Paean. “He should be alright. But I want you to stay here, and if anything turns for the worse, call me immediately.”

  She threw the patient a doubtful glance. There was something niggling at her. She excused herself.

  Paean burst into tears the second the Doc was out of the infirmary. The Fever! She dreaded fever with a grey, primal terror born out of experience. She glanced down at her hands and thought of that perfect, still moment yesterday, by the rock pool.

  While she had hung images in her memory gallery, Wolf had been lying here thirsty and hungry with nobody giving a rip! She hadn’t even given it half a thought!

  That peaceful moment! It had been an illusion anyway, she realized. Federi had been uneasy. Not visibly, but she had sensed it. He had been right! The awful little device came from that spot! And probably that was where Federi had gone back.

  A sleeping hobo in a cave?

  What if Federi didn’t come back? What if he had been… What if his and Marsden’s poor bodies got left there, next to that dead man, and the Solar Wind set sail because Captain couldn’t find them?

  She had to take Captain to that spot! Then again, what if that was exactly what they were waiting for – whoever they were? What if it was a trap?

  Her hands stroked the hair of the dying young engineer. How could she have forgotten to bring him water? The saline drip was rigged now, that was good, but what if the heavy painkiller she had given him finished off his liver? All the tears streaming down her face wouldn’t bring him back!

  Someone who betrays his friends, doesn’t deserve friends, Federi had said. By her act of betrayal, had she forfeit her right on friendship in total? Was she to lose them both in one single night, irreversibly, to death?

  Shawn peered into the infirmary with a mug of coffee for his sister. He studied the scene that presented there. She had fallen asleep on the chair next to the bunk, her head on Wolf’s chest, both her hands clinging to his left hand. And she was still crying in her sleep.

  “Oy,” said Shawn and put her mug down. He made himself comfortable on the opposite infirmary bunk and grabbed a book. He’d better keep watch while little sister got some shuteye. Just as well Wolf was valeriensed out.