by Harrison, S.
It’s incredible.
Even though I know that none of this is real, everything looks and feels so convincing, from the boards beneath our feet, to the wooden ship’s wheel secured with a fraying knotted rope ten feet in front of us. There’s another thunderclap overhead, another flash, and through the fleeting blue haze of the lightning strike I see the billowing sails high above us. Two thick wooden masts jut skyward, draped with rope webs of netted rigging. Beyond the crow’s nest high above us, tiny flickers of starlight twinkle in the gaps between the electric-sparking charcoal gray of the swollen storm clouds.
“This is amazing!” I shout as the pale-blue light fades to black.
“This is horrible!” Bit shouts back to me.
Suddenly a man’s voice bellows a terrifying war cry from the darkness.
“READY THE CANNONS!”
I don’t scare easily, but I seriously scream my head off. And I’m certainly not the only one who does. Margaux and Millie wail like banshees, I hear Professor Francis yelp like a wounded dog behind us, and there’s a tandem man-scream from who I can only assume are Brent and Brody.
Lightning strikes the top of the main mast and lights up the night, the ship, the sea, and the thick matted beard, leathery skin, and blacker-than-black eyes of a frightening seven-foot-tall pirate. He’s dressed in a weather-beaten, triple-cornered hat, a salt-crusted canvas jacket, dark linen breeches, and knee-high leather bucket boots. A rusty cutlass hangs from his thick black, gold-buckled belt. The pirate captain towers over us like a gnarled giant, staring out over our heads into the ocean beyond with a look of murder in his dark eyes. He doesn’t seem to notice us at all, or even see us for that matter.
Bit started screaming the moment he shouted three seconds ago and she hasn’t stopped. Her arms are wrapped around my waist and she’s squeezing me like she’s trying to extract orange juice.
High in the sky, the wind parts the clouds and the ship is bathed in bright moonlight. I look down onto the lower deck and see that it’s bustling with pirates, hurriedly running back and forth attending to their duties.
“Ready the cannons!” one of them shouts, parroting the large, scary pirate captain’s order.
The pirate captain leers, the glint of a gold tooth peeking out from between his dry, salt-cracked lips.
“If they want t’ take me in . . . they’ll have t’ kill me first,” he says to himself, gravel-voiced, eyes fixed, still staring back out over the stern of the ship. I slowly raise my hand and wave it in front of his face. He looks straight ahead as if I’m invisible. He really can’t see us at all. I follow his gaze, turning my head to look out over the dark ocean. There, in the moonlight, barely a hundred feet behind us, is another ship, almost twice the size of this one. With its massive sails tightened with wind, it bears down on us, its huge red-and-gold bow slicing through the waves as it gets closer and closer with every passing second. It’s so close that every time its bow dips, I can see uniformed men scrambling across its wide deck, pulling on ropes, loading muskets and cannons, and running into position, gripping the rails with one hand, their swords drawn for battle in the other.
“Everyone!” Percy yells over the roar of the writhing ocean. “Make your way to the side if you would like a better view! It’s all quite safe, I assure you!”
Everyone staggers and sways to the railing as the pirate captain shouts down to his men, “READY YOURSELVES, MATES! I’M BRINGIN’ HER ’ROUND!”
I’m at the back of the group closest to the captain. I watch over my shoulder as he draws his cutlass and slices through the frayed rope holding the wheel steady. He jabs the sword into the deck and with both massive hands, heaves the ship’s wheel into a spin. The ship immediately tilts and swerves to the right, cutting a wide, white-foaming curve through the black water. Everyone who can clutches the rail; the rest of us hold desperately on to each other.
“It be a good day to die,” the captain murmurs to himself. I seem to be the only one who hears him. The boys whoop and cheer out across the ocean. I see Ryan gripping the rail. He looks back at me, smiling and laughing.
The other ship is turning now, too. They are circling each other, now about 150 feet apart. Hatches on the side of the larger ship open up, and cannon muzzles begin sprouting along its entire length like a row of iron roses. Over in the distance, I see a man shout a command and suddenly all hell is let loose as the cannons erupt into a fierce barrage of powerful explosions. The surface of the ocean turns bright orange. Barely a split-second later, the side of our ship is violently ripped into splinters. All over the lower deck, pirates are screaming and shouting.
“FIRE!” shouts the pirate captain. Half a dozen cannons boom from the side; some of the cannonballs find their mark, but they don’t do nearly as much damage as the behemoth across the way did with its fearsome barrage. Our little ship is terribly outmatched.
I see the man in the distance shout once more, and with a rolling succession of blasts the cannons on the other ship spit fire again.
Wood chips fly in every direction as cannonballs punch huge holes through the side of our ship. A barefooted pirate dressed in a red-and-white-banded top, blue pants, and a black bandana is standing in the center of the lower deck, pointing and shouting orders. Over on the other ship, the last cannon in the row spews a plume of flame.
Lucky shot or not, the result is the same. The barefoot pirate is halfway through an order when, with a sickening wet smack, a cannonball wipes his head clean off his shoulders.
His freshly decapitated body bizarrely stays standing upright, arm still extended, finger still pointing. A gruesome two seconds later, all of his limbs go dead-weight loose. His legs buckle and he drops to his knees as a thick squirt of blood fountains from his tattered neck stump; it spurts high into the air before fanning into a wide spray as his limp body topples backward onto a pile of rolled rope.
Sherrie Polito screams at the top of her lungs.
Professor Francis quickly turns to Percy. “Thank you for the demonstration!” he shouts over the return cannon fire. “But I think that’s quite enough for today!”
“Oh, dear me! Of course, Professor, I do apologize! I forgot that this battle is not exactly PG!” Percy replies. He lifts his wrist to his mouth and shouts into his silver bracelet. “Computer, freeze construct!” There’s a loud, resounding tone and everything goes deathly silent. Everything except for Sherrie’s sobbing.
I look out over the ocean. The silent water is completely still, like a detailed three-dimensional photograph. The pirates down on the damaged deck are frozen in half-stride, the panicked looks on their faces stuck and unmoving like so many wax statues.
The captain standing beside us is as still as stone, his hate-filled eyes fixed angrily on the enemy vessel across the water. Even the glowing yellow fire-bursts of the cannons are stopped in time, cannonballs hanging in midair just beyond them.
Sherrie has gone from sobbing to a labored wheezing. “She’s asthmatic!” screeches Ashley Farver. “She’s having an asthma attack!” Sherrie desperately claws at her blazer pockets and after a few seconds begins to panic. “She must have left her inhaler at school!” screams Ashley.
“Oh dear.” Percy raises his wrist to his lips with panicked urgency. “Computer: medical emergency protocol epsilon.”
Over in the corner of the upper deck, a white hospital bed on a rectangle patch of gray tiles suddenly molds itself up from the boards. Ashley helps Sherrie over to it and she lies down, still gasping for breath.
“I’ll take her down to Nurse Talbot. I shouldn’t be long; feel free to look around but please stay on the ship until I get back,” Percy says, trotting over to the bed. “Hold on, girls.” He presses a spot on the edge of the bed and Sherrie, Ashley, and Percy lower through the deck and disappear from sight as the bed-shaped hole in the deck molds itself over with boards once again.
“Cool,�
� Dean says, making for the stairs. “I’m gonna go look at that headless guy.”
“Wait up,” says Brody, jogging after him, closely followed by Brent and Ryan. Eventually everyone meanders down the stairs to get a closer look at all the carnage while they can. Professor Francis and Miss Cole follow after them all, to make sure they don’t get into too much trouble, I suspect, leaving just me and Bit on the upper deck.
“I’d like to get a closer look at that frozen cannon fire. The tech here is mind-blowing! Are you coming, Finn?”
“Sure, I’ll meet you down there in a minute. I just wanna . . . look at the ocean for a little while.”
Bit gives me a confused look. “Ohhh-kaaay? You really are weird sometimes y’know.”
I give her a little smile as she turns and walks down the stairs.
I wait until she’s out of sight and then walk over to the rail at the far stern of the ship. I check over my shoulder one last time, just to make sure no one is in earshot before I lean over the rail and whisper out over the ocean.
“Onix? Hello? Can you hear me, Onix?”
There’s no answer. Try something else.
“Onix. It’s me, Finn. I know you’re there. I heard your voice at the conference table.”
There’s still no answer. Maybe I have to be formal. He is at work, after all.
“Onix, verify voice command authority Infinity One.”
Still nothing.
“Onix can’t hear you, child,” whispers a graveled voice, and my whole body twitches as a cold shiver runs down my spine. I spin around to see exactly what I expected. I’m alone. There’s no one up here but me. No one but me and that angry, black-eyed pirate construct.
I stare at it. It’s still frozen to the spot. I walk over to it and look up into its eyes. They’re motionless. Lifeless.
I ball up a fist and knock on its chin with my knuckles. It thuds like a wooden statue. I must be imagining things. My mind is obviously playing tricks on me.
I walk back to the railing and whisper out over the ocean again, “Onix? Answer me, it’s Finn. Onix?”
“There’s no use, child,” the voice says again, and I jump in my skin. I definitely heard it that time. I spin around and gasp out loud as I find, to my absolute horror, six inches from my nose, the snarling face of the huge pirate captain bearing down on me like a monster ripped straight from a nightmare. I’m frozen in shock as he stares into my eyes. His glare begins moving, roving all over my face, studying my features intently.
“I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw you here,” he says, grinning horribly.
What the hell is happening? The scream is barely forming in my lungs when his arm becomes a blur, violently jarring my head back as he catches his massive hand around my throat, choking my cry from escaping.
I grab his wrist with both hands and struggle to get free, but it’s hopeless. He’s far too strong. His arm is like wrought iron. He easily lifts me off the ground by my neck, my legs dangling beneath me. I choke and heave, desperate for air as he throttles me. I kick at his groin as hard as I can but it has absolutely no effect at all. “Help me, someone . . . help me, Onix,” I gasp, my words nothing more than feeble breathless whispers.
He smiles a dirty, gold-toothed leer. “Onix can’t hear you, Infinity, can’t see you, either . . . can’t help you now.”
My mind is overflowing with fear. How does he know my name?! Blood is pulsing in my temples. My eyes bulge in my skull. My lips are stretched back thin over my clenched teeth.
He’s killing me.
He’s strangling me to death.
My thoughts are racing, flooded with terror and panic and pain as my lungs burn like fire, yearning for breath.
He cocks his head to the side, an expression of joy slowly spreading across his grotesque face as he squeezes the life from my body.
“Aww . . . what’s the matter? Don’t you recognize me?” he growls. “This voice and this face may be strange, but look deep into these eyes, Infinity. Look deep into the eyes of the person whose life you tore apart.”
The dark black of his eyes melt away, revealing irises of shining silvery gray.
It can’t be.
It’s impossible.
My rampant confusion triples my fear.
I feel my heart beating in my forehead. My eyeballs are almost bursting as he crushes my neck. Little flecks of color flit across my vision. I gag as his vise-like hand clamps tighter and tighter. I’m suffocating.
Dying.
“No? Still no clue? I’m hurt, Infinity. I’ve been dead for only two years. Surely you haven’t forgotten me already?”
I can’t fight anymore. My eyes roll back as my body flops loose beneath my head, limp and useless.
The last thing I feel is the rough skin of his lips scratching against my ear.
“You were the death of me, you loathsome child . . .”
Everything goes as black as a moonless night, but the pirate captain’s final words cut through the darkness like a blade.
“. . . now your dear old Nanny Theresa is gladly returning the favor.”
CHAPTER NINE
“There’s nothing else we can do, Major Brogan. We simply didn’t make it in time. The only thing keeping her alive at this point is the life support. I’m afraid she doesn’t have long to live.”
I can hear the doctor’s voice through Nanny Theresa’s bedroom door. I know I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but this is the most intriguing thing to happen around here for ages. It happened early this morning. I thought the old battle axe was invincible, and yet there she was, lying in one of the yellow rose gardens by the gazebo behind the house.
Sophie, one of the maids, found her when she went to cut some roses and raised the alarm. Who knows how long she was lying there? Sophie said Jonah immediately called for help and then tried to resuscitate her as she drifted in and out of consciousness. A red-and-white medical transport landed on the back lawn within fifteen minutes. A doctor and two nurses leapt out with all sorts of equipment and went to work on her right there on the grass.
“How about a synthetic heart?” I hear Jonah ask.
“We could, but by her own order, her medical file explicitly states that no cyber-biological organs of any kind may be implanted,” replies the doctor.
“Transplant?”
“A transplant?!” the doctor says with amused surprise. “No patient has had a real human-organ transplant in decades. Protein-printed cyber organs are standard procedure these days. As I’m sure you already know, they function much better than natural organs. There was nothing wrong with my heart, lungs, and kidneys, and I had all of them replaced when I turned thirty. I’ve got the ticker of an Olympic athlete, and it’s all thanks to the work of Dr. Theresa Pierce, here. She is . . . or should I say, was, absolutely brilliant.”
Theresa Pierce. In all my life, I have never heard Nanny Theresa’s last name. It almost makes her seem more human to me. Almost. And Dr. Theresa Pierce?! Why on earth would a doctor take a job as a nanny? I hope she was a better doctor than a nanny, because her child-care skills are quite honestly terrible.
“I guess there’s nothing more we can do, then,” says Jonah.
“I’m sorry, but there isn’t. It’s ironic that the woman who helped develop the technology that could save her life refuses to use it.”
“I’m sure she has her reasons,” Jonah replies.
“Would you like me to move her to more appropriate surroundings, Major?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. She loves this house. It seems fitting that she stay here until the end. I’m sure some of the staff would also like an opportunity to pay their respects.”
“Very well. We thought that might be the case. Nurse Hope has already volunteered to stay and monitor her for the rest of the day. We’ll send the transport for her tonight.”
The door swings open. Jonah actually looks sad. I thought he hated her as much as I do.
“Hi, Finn. She’s not doing well, I’m afraid. I think we’ll postpone training until tomorrow. You’ll tell Carlo when you see him?”
I nod. “OK, I think he’s arriving today. He might even be here already.” I totally blurted that last sentence out, failing miserably to hide my excitement that Carlo will be spending the entire summer here.
A man in a white coat appears from behind Jonah. “Hello there. I’m Dr. Cartwright.”
“Sorry, how rude of me,” says Jonah. “This is Finn. Richard’s daughter.”
“Oh!” he says with obvious surprise. “I was unaware that Dr. Blackstone had any children.”
“Yes, just the one,” says Jonah. “Finn is fifteen now, growing up fast. She’s home from boarding school for the summer.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Blackstone. Your father has certainly done a good job of keeping you out of the public spotlight. Makes sense I suppose; it’s hardly fair on children to share the burden of their parents’ fame.”
“And if you don’t mind, Doctor,” adds Jonah, “Richard would like to keep it that way.”
“Your secret is safe with me. Doctor-daughter confidentiality,” he says with a wink. I just smile and nod.
“Finn, when you go to see Carlo, can you please let his dad know what’s happened, if he hasn’t heard already?”
I nod again and turn to go down the hall.
“Finn . . .” Jonah calls out. I look back over my shoulder.
“And tell him that I’ll drop by the stables in a minute; there are a few things I need to discuss with him.”
“OK,” I say and jog off along the ground-floor hall of the west wing, through the marble foyer, and out the front door into the warm sunshine and clear blue skies of a beautiful summer’s day.
My shoes crunch on the gravel as I break into a sprint across the driveway, down the hill, and across the wide green expanse of the front lawn. I feel a little guilty to be in such a good mood, but I really can’t help it. Nanny Theresa has been nothing but ice-cold to me my whole life.