The Skeleton Coast

by Mardi McConnochie

  Spinner had always disapproved of places like Doria because he believed that when there were so many places crying out to be rebuilt, it was almost wicked to spend so much money on a playground for the rich. There was, of course, an argument that places like Doria were important and necessary because they kept the local people in work, and without the tourist trade they would have no way of making a living. Spinner conceded that, but disliked it for the way it seemed to represent the vast gulf between the people who could afford to come to a place like Doria, and all the other people who couldn’t.

  Will had dismissed Doria for all these reasons, but in the present circumstances, he could see it might be exactly what they were looking for.

  ‘Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad choice,’ he conceded. ‘There are lots of foreigners there so we wouldn’t be so obvious, and plenty of boat traffic, too. Hopefully it’ll be easy to slip in and out unnoticed.’

  And so they sailed on to Doria. As they drew close to the harbour, Essie’s shell pinged and they all came together to see what the message was.

  An unidentified caller had rung, but had left no message.

  ‘Do you think that was them?’ Will asked.

  ‘It could be,’ Essie said.

  ‘Call them back,’ Will said.

  ‘I can’t,’ Essie said. ‘That’s what “No call ID” means.’

  Will frowned, stymied. ‘Why wouldn’t they leave a message?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Essie said.

  ‘Only want to talk directly?’ Pod suggested.

  Will looked at the others. ‘What do we do? What if they call again?’

  ‘If they call again, I’ll answer them,’ Essie said. ‘We can’t do anything until we know what they want. And we still need to find a vet for Graham.’

  They sailed into Doria’s harbour and dropped anchor in a distant corner. Pod and Essie took the dinghy and went ashore with Graham while Will stayed with the boat. They promised to call him if they heard anything more from the pirates.

  It was getting close to the end of the tourist season in Doria, but to Pod it seemed amazingly crowded. They walked at first through strolling, shopping throngs of Duxans and northerners, past gleaming shops and fashionable restaurants that made Essie sigh with longing; then they moved beyond the tourist areas and into the backstreets where the ordinary Gantuans lived and worked. Eventually they found their way to the vet clinic Essie’s shell had identified. The receptionist didn’t speak Duxan, or either of the other two languages Essie could get by in, but when they showed him Graham’s wing, it was clear what they needed.

  The vet was summoned; she showed them into an examination room and looked at Graham’s wound. Luckily, she could speak a little Duxan. ‘Your parrot need surgery,’ she explained, reaching for the right words. ‘To fix, must be…’ She mimed asleep.

  ‘You can’t just sew him up?’ Pod asked, miming sewing.

  The vet made a see-sawing motion with her hand, a dubious expression on her face. ‘Surgery…better,’ she said.

  ‘If he has the surgery, will he be able to fly again?’

  ‘I think,’ the vet said.

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’

  The vet raised her eyebrows sceptically.

  Pod and Essie looked at each other. ‘I guess he needs the surgery, then,’ Pod said.

  Graham—who was under instructions not to speak—squawked, although it wasn’t clear if he was approving or objecting.

  ‘There will be cost,’ the vet warned gently. She had evidently noted the state of their clothes. Essie’s had once been expensive and fashionable, but months on the boat had taken their toll, and now they were worn and salt-stained. Pod’s clothes had never been nice. No one could have blamed her for wondering if they could pay their bill.

  ‘We can pay,’ Essie said confidently. ‘Can you tell us how much it’s going to be, please?’

  The vet quickly totted up the costs for the surgery, the anaesthesia and the medicines. Essie choked when she saw the total.

  ‘Is that in Duxan creds?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ the vet said.

  Essie looked at Pod anxiously, then pulled him into the corner. ‘This will use up all of our money,’ she whispered. ‘And once it’s gone, I don’t know how we’ll get any more.’

  They both turned to look at Graham, who was sitting on the examination table, his damaged wing drooping. His handsome plumage was dull and ruffled; he looked miserable and frightened.

  ‘He needs the surgery,’ Pod said.

  ‘But it’s so much money,’ Essie said. ‘And what if we need it to pay the pirates?’

  Pod scowled unhappily.

  Essie looked at Graham, then at the vet, and came to a decision. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ she said. ‘Stay here with Graham. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  Essie was gone for nearly two hours. Pod sat in the waiting room with the grumbling, unhappy Graham. He had no idea what Essie had in mind, and he didn’t feel entirely comfortable about having let her wander off alone into yet another strange town. Admittedly, this one was less scary than some of the places they’d been, but he also knew that tourist towns were magnets for villains and thieves who knew tourists were easy pickings. He began to wish he’d gone with her so he could keep her safe, but that would have meant leaving Graham alone, and he couldn’t really do that either. Frustrated and cross with himself, he squirmed in his seat and kept hopping up to look for Essie out the window until even Graham told him to sit still. (‘Pod got ants in pants?’)

  At last the door to the waiting room opened and Essie appeared. ‘I’ve got it,’ she said, looking triumphant but a little shaky.

  The vet was summoned back. ‘We’ve got the money,’ Essie told her. ‘When can he have the surgery?’

  Graham was whisked away and the two of them sat down to wait once again.

  ‘How did you get it?’ Pod asked quietly, when the receptionist was out of the room. ‘Rob a bank?’

  Essie shook her head, and then pulled a shell from her pocket. Pod looked at it uncomprehendingly.

  ‘I sold my old shell and headset,’ Essie explained. ‘I had to shop around a bit to get the best price for it—that’s why I took so long. The first guy offered me a pittance. It was ridiculous really, I knew I could do better. So I shopped it around and I ended up getting a pretty good price.’ She paused. ‘I don’t think I realised before but shells don’t hold their value. As soon as they’re not new anymore, the price plunges. But my headset was a limited edition. They’re quite rare, so I did okay out of that.’

  Pod looked at her curiously. ‘Are you crying?’

  ‘No,’ Essie said crossly, wiping her eyes.

  ‘It was just a shell.’

  ‘I know,’ Essie said, ‘but I really liked it. And my dad gave it to me for my birthday.’ The shell she’d sold had truly been a dazzling object: light, tiny, splendidly fast. It also had the very latest headset, a sleek, jewelled headband with a customisable light display (it flashed and sparkled and you could change the colours to match your outfit) which housed technology that could project the contents of your shell directly in front of your eyes. When it was new, it was the very latest version and all her friends agreed that it was superior to any other on the market. Her replacement shell was older and fatter and slower and uglier, and did not come with a headset. ‘This one will do what I need it to do,’ she sighed.

  ‘That’s all you need then,’ said Pod, who was immune to the magical attraction of shells and did not really appreciate the scale of her sacrifice.

  They settled in to wait.

  Several more hours passed. The pirates did not call.

  Eventually, the vet appeared once again.

  ‘Surgery go well,’ she said with a smile. ‘Parrot going to be okay. We keep here, tonight?’

  ‘We’d rather take him with us now, if that’s okay,’ Pod said.

  Graham was handed back to them, still groggy from the anaesthetic
, with some very expensive medicine and instructions about how to change his dressing. They carried him through the darkening streets in a box; occasionally, his blue head would pop out.

  ‘Where Pod?’

  ‘I’m right here, Graham.’

  ‘Where going?’

  ‘We’re going back to the Sunfish.’

  ‘On the wet?’

  ‘Yes, on the wet.’

  ‘Hate wet.’

  ‘I know.’

  The blue head subsided.

  Later it popped up again.

  ‘Where Pod?’

  ‘I’m still here, Graham.’

  ‘This storm very rough.’

  ‘You’re not in a storm. You’re in a box.’

  Graham looked about and saw he was right.

  ‘Hate box.’

  ‘You have to be in the box. You can’t stand up properly yet.’

  ‘Graham wonky?’

  ‘Yes, you are.’

  Graham looked at Pod imperiously. ‘Pod be more careful with box.’

  ‘Yes, master,’ Pod said, with a roll of his eyes.

  Later, when they were in the dinghy and heading back to the Sunfish, Graham popped up one more time. ‘Pod?’

  ‘Yes, Graham?’

  ‘Pod good friend.’

  Pod smiled. ‘Thanks, buddy. You too.’

  The room

  ‘What have you been able to work out about this place?’ Annalie asked. ‘Do you know where we are? Is there any way to get out?’

  ‘I think we’re still in Dio,’ Cherry said. ‘At least, that’s where I was taken from, and I assume they wouldn’t have taken me somewhere else. Not that that helps us very much. I don’t know how much you know about Dio, but the place is enormous.’

  ‘Right,’ Annalie said vaguely. Nice as Cherry was, she had decided to let him know as little as possible about who she was, what she knew, and where she was going. ‘What about this room, did you search it? Is there any way out of here?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Cherry said. ‘Apart from the door.’

  Annalie got up to have a look. ‘It’s not that I don’t believe you,’ she said apologetically. ‘I just want to see for myself.’

  Looking around, she guessed the room had originally been a bedroom, perhaps a child’s room, because it was quite small. The walls were bare now, but different-coloured patches showed where furniture had once been, decorations too. She got up on tiptoe and tried the boards over the window.

  ‘I couldn’t budge them,’ Cherry said.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a pocket knife on you?’ Annalie asked. They were part of a sailor’s standard kit.

  ‘I had one,’ Cherry said. ‘They took it off me.’

  Will always carried a pocket knife about with him too, but Annalie never had. She made a mental note that if she ever got herself out of this mess she would get one.

  ‘It’s not going to be easy getting those boards off, then,’ she said.

  ‘Wouldn’t be much help if we could,’ Cherry said. ‘That window’s tiny.’

  Annalie had to admit he was right; the window was so small not even she could have crept through it. She stood on tiptoe and looked out the little gap between the boards. The viewing angle was narrow and showed only the weatherbeaten walls of a neighbouring house, featureless and sheer, with nothing to climb up, no windows to signal to, and no glimpse of any landmarks which might help them work out where they were.

  She turned back to the room and studied it thoroughly. She tried the door, just in case—locked; checked the ceiling for hatches or trapdoors—none; looked around the walls for a concealed door or window—nothing.

  ‘Anything under the mat?’ she asked.

  Cherry rolled off it obligingly and let her pull it aside. There was, of course, nothing to see underneath. Restlessly, Annalie paced around the room, looking, listening, feeling. In one corner, she felt the boards give under her feet. She bounced experimentally and the floorboards bounced with her.

  ‘I think a joist’s gone,’ Cherry observed.

  ‘Any idea what’s underneath?’

  ‘Wouldn’t have a clue.’

  Annalie bounced one more time and then went back to sit on the floor.

  ‘So there’s no obvious way out,’ Cherry said.

  ‘No,’ Annalie said.

  ‘And whenever they come to the door, they tend to do it in pairs,’ Cherry said, ‘so I don’t like our chances of overpowering them. Unless you’re a master of the defensive arts?’

  ‘I’m not much of a one for fighting,’ Annalie said.

  ‘Are you not?’ he said, and smiled. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll get out of here. One way or another.’

  ‘Do you have a plan?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘My people will come for me,’ Cherry said. ‘We never leave anyone behind. I’ll make sure we take you with us.’

  ‘Oh,’ Annalie said, rather deflated.

  ‘Rescuing people is what we do,’ Cherry said.

  Annalie gave him what she hoped was a grateful smile, and said nothing.

  When the sun went down, the room became utterly dark, and remained dark for a long time. Cherry eventually dozed off, but Annalie lay awake, listening to the sounds around her. She could hear the rattle and clatter of domestic life, both within the building and outside the walls: people cooking and talking, eating and laughing, babies crying and being soothed by their mothers. It made her feel sad and lonely and homesick. She wondered if she would ever see her brother, her friends or her father again. To distract herself, she listened to the putter of dinghies and the slap of water against walls outside, and decided her earlier guess was probably correct and they were holed up somewhere in the part of Dio with its feet in the water. Cherry snored gently; the moon came out and a thin silver glow crept into the room. The sounds of the city quietened, and Annalie, lying with her head close to the floorboards, could hear a sound coming up from below: the gentle boom of water lapping at internal walls. A waterlogged room lay below them. And perhaps where the water could come in, there might be a way for a determined person to get out.

  Another buyer

  Annalie woke to the jolting of floorboards.

  Cherry was up and doing his mornin exercises. She recognised them at once: the Admiralty had compulsory calisthenics first thing in the morning, and they’d been one of her least favourite parts of the Triumph College curriculum.

  Noticing that she was awake, Cherry grinned at her. ‘Exercise before breakfast. It’s the best way to start the day. It always helps put me in a positive state of mind.’

  ‘Even here?’ Annalie said sceptically.

  ‘Especially here,’ Cherry said.

  He switched from star jumps to press ups. ‘Feel free to join me,’ he said. He was barely puffing.

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll pass,’ Annalie said.

  ‘We need to stay in peak condition if we’re going to escape,’ he said.

  Annalie suspected he was teasing her. ‘You can’t blame a girl for trying,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t blame you at all,’ Cherry said. ‘I admire your spirit.’

  His arms pumped up and down like pistons. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘what brought you out here? The Sea of Brundisi is a pretty dangerous place to be.’

  ‘We were on our way to somewhere else,’ Annalie said. ‘Pirates attacked us.’

  ‘At sea?’

  Annalie nodded.

  ‘What kind of vessel were you in?’

  ‘My father has a boat,’ Annalie said, a little awkwardly. ‘It’s only a little one.’

  ‘No such thing as too little for these guys,’ Cherry said. ‘So they chased you? Boarded you?’

  Annalie nodded. ‘We tried to fight back, but then I was taken hostage.’

  ‘What happened to your friends?’ Cherry asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Annalie said. Suddenly her eyes were full of tears. ‘I don’t know if they were captured, or—’

  Cherry stoppe
d his exercising and looked concerned. ‘Who was on the boat with you? Your family?’

  ‘Family and friends,’ Annalie said, her voice wobbly. ‘Almost everyone I care about, actually.’

  Cherry looked at her with sympathy. ‘They might have got away.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure,’ Cherry said. ‘It happens.’

  But she could see he was lying.

  She turned her head away. She didn’t want him to see her cry.

  Later that morning, Red Bandana came for her again. This time there were just three men in the lounge room: Red Bandana, the older man, and the boy. Red Bandana spoke first; he was in a bad mood.

  ‘You give us more names,’ the boy translated, echoing Red Bandana’s aggressive tone.

  ‘I don’t have any more names to give you,’ Annalie said.

  ‘We called. They don’t answer,’ the boy said. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘I told you, I don’t know,’ Annalie said. She turned to Red Bandana. ‘Your friends know where they are.’

  Red Bandana shouted at her and waved his hand angrily.

  ‘You have to give us more names,’ the boy said. ‘Or we start looking for another buyer.’

  Another buyer? What did that mean? Annalie wondered, worried. ‘Try them again, please. I don’t know where they are, they might just be out of range, but you’ve got to keep trying. I know they want me back. We don’t have much money, but whatever we can get, we’ll give you, I promise.’

  ‘You give us more names. Dux people.’

  ‘I don’t know any more people, I really don’t,’ Annalie said.

  Red Bandana and the older man conferred, then gave the boy instructions. ‘We don’t talk to them today, you’re in big trouble,’ the boy said.

  ‘You won’t like it,’ Cherry said. ‘But they’re probably talking about selling you to a slaver.’