Black Heart

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Black Heart Page 15

by Justin Somper


  As he spoke, Lisabeth Quivers’s skiff skimmed through the arch, taking advantage of the wind to narrow the distance between her vessel and the skiffs just ahead. The waves in the harbor were illuminated by the final few fire beacons. There was so much happening at once, it was hard to know where to look. Another skiff approached the arch, but it was surely too far behind the others to be a serious contender.

  Captain Platonov still had the lead, closely pursued a single length behind by Captain Singh. Captains Solomos and Moscardo were fighting it out for third place, but Captain Quivers was gaining on them every second.

  “Come on, Jasmine! Come on, Jacoby!” Connor cried.

  Around him, the students and guests were all calling out to their friends and favorites. The waves in the harbor were high and choppy. One of them threw Captain Moscardo’s skiff up in the air. As it landed, it crashed into Captain Solomos’s boat before cartwheeling off to the side. The crowd gasped. Both skiffs had, in the very last moment, been taken out of the race. The archrivals had neutralized each other’s threat.

  The crowd’s attention turned to the front-runners. Barely a length separated Platonov from Singh, and there was no more than a half-length between Singh and Quivers. Connor was hoarse from yelling, but he wasn’t about to stop. “Go, Jacoby! Go, Captain Quivers!”

  As he shouted, he was delighted to see Captain Quivers’s boat draw level with Captain Singh’s. Platonov was still a length ahead as the skiffs flew into the final section of the harbor and approached the finish line.

  “Come on!” The cries of the crowd rose to a crescendo.

  It was Captain Platonov who crossed the finish line first, a half-length ahead of Captain Quivers, with a clearly disgruntled Captain Singh forced into third place.

  “They did it!” Connor cried excitedly. “Jasmine and Jacoby did it!”

  “Yes,” said Cheng Li. “Captain Quivers certainly pulled out all the stops at the eleventh hour. Kudos to her.”

  “Look!” Connor said. “The next two skiffs have come through the arch.”

  “Let me see!” Cheng Li raised her binoculars. “Captain Grammont and Captain van Amstel,” she said.

  “That only leaves Captain Avery and—”

  “Commodore Kuo,” said Cheng Li. “It’s unthinkable for Commodore Kuo to finish in ninth or tenth place! Something’s wrong here. I’m going down to talk to Platonov. Perhaps he knows something.”

  “I’ll come, too,” Connor said, not giving her an opportunity to refuse.

  They moved as fast as they were able through the jubilant crowd. At the harborside, the winning teams were disembarking from their skiffs. Connor saw Jasmine, drinking thirstily from a bottle of water. He ran over to her and impulsively swept her up in a hug. “Congratulations!” he cried. “You’re a winner!”

  “Thanks,” she said. “It was tough out there, but we nailed it.”

  To their side, Captain Platonov was leaning toward Cheng Li and shaking his head. “I don’t understand it,” he said. “Commodore Kuo led all the way out. He got to the island so far ahead of us, we didn’t even see him when we made the turnaround. I just assumed he would win by a mile. When we sailed through the harbor arch, I really thought we were fighting for second place—until I looked up and saw the faces of the crowd and realized that Commodore Kuo’s skiff wasn’t already here.”

  “Do you think he’s in trouble, Captain Platonov?” Cheng Li asked, her brow furrowed and her eyes searching.

  Platonov shook his head. “I don’t know what to think. Let’s talk to Shivaji, see what he has to say.” Captain Platonov pulled Captain Singh over.

  “Congratulations, Pavel,” said Captain Singh, managing a smile. “You fought well out there.”

  “Thank you. You were a worthy adversary. Now look, Cheng Li and I are discussing Commodore Kuo. You didn’t see any sign of him and his skiff out there, did you?”

  Captain Singh shook his head. “No, you were just about the only other skiff we had in our sights for the duration of the race. Right until Captain Quivers pulled through at the end.”

  “Did someone mention my name?” Captain Quivers, flanked by Jacoby and Bastian, joined the group. “Sorry that I had to punish you at the last second, Shivaji.”

  Captain Singh frowned. “Captain Quivers, when and where did you last see Commodore Kuo’s skiff?”

  Lisabeth Quivers’s face became serious at once. “Isn’t he back? I haven’t seen him since the beginning of the race. After he shot through the academy arch, I really didn’t think any of us had a chance of catching up to him.”

  “Something’s wrong,” said Cheng Li once more. Her face was ashen.

  Connor could see that the other captains had come to the same conclusion. The talk had spread from the cluster on the quayside up through the stands. Everyone, whether a student at the academy or a guest, knew that for Commodore Kuo to come in last, his skiff must have gotten into trouble out beyond the harbor arch.

  As Captains Grammont and van Amstel crossed the finish line, with Captain Avery sailing in a few lengths behind, the applause was muted. As far as everyone was concerned, the race was over. The really important question was, Where was Commodore Kuo and what had happened to him?

  “There’s no need to panic just yet,” said Captain Grammont, who in spite of coming in fourth in the race, Captains Moscardo and Solomos having been ruled out of the rankings, naturally assumed charge as Commodore Kuo’s longstanding deputy.

  “We must send the scouts out to search for him,” said Captain Platonov urgently.

  “Why just the scouts?” argued Kirstin Larsen. “We should all go!”

  “Does it really require ten of us, plus the scouts, to form a search party?” asked Captain Singh. “There’s probably a simple explanation for this. A broken spinnaker, perhaps?” His words seemed directed at Captain Larsen, who frowned and turned her back on him.

  “This is Commodore Kuo we’re talking about,” said Captain van Amstel. “I vote we all go and look for him. Let’s not waste any more time arguing.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” said Captain Avery.

  “Moi aussi,” nodded Captain Grammont. “Time is of the essence.”

  “I’d like to come, too,” said Cheng Li. “If that’s all right with you.”

  The captains turned and looked at her, their faces suddenly frozen.

  “Oh, dear,” said Captain Quivers. “What a dreadful thing to happen on your investiture day.”

  “Now, now, Lisabeth,” said Captain Grammont. “We don’t know that anything dreadful has happened.”

  Captain Larsen put her hand on Cheng Li’s shoulder. “Nevertheless, it has put a damper on the proceedings. And I know, Cheng Li, that John was not simply your commander but a close friend.”

  “Please,” said Captain Grammont. “Do not speak of John in the past tense.”

  “Is it really necessary to correct my grammar at this time?” barked Captain Larsen, rather missing the point.

  “Of course you can come with us, Cheng Li,” said Captain Grammont. “We’ll take the academy launches.”

  “Wait!” It was Captain Platonov who spoke now. “I’m sorry to sound a note of discord. But what if something is wrong here? Let us take seriously the notion that Commodore Kuo has been attacked. I think we’re making a mistake if all of us race back out to sea. What if there’s a bigger plan to attack the academy? In that case, we’d certainly be assisting whoever’s masterminded this by removing all the senior captains from the scene.”

  The other captains were shocked by his words, but Captain Grammont took charge once more. “As ever, your words are brutal but wise, Pavel. I suggest that we divide up. Myself, Captains Larsen, Moscardo, and Solomos will head out to sea. With Cheng Li, of course. The rest of you will wait here.”

  “Not just wait,” said Captain Platonov. “If the academy is in danger, we need to evacuate or at least prepare for a possible attack.”

  “I don’t think we need to eva
cuate the students,”said Captain Grammont. “Just get them together in the Rotunda and try to keep their anxiety level down. Pavel, you will announce our plans to the crowd.” He glanced sadly at Cheng Li before continuing. “And I’m afraid you had better send our guests home.”

  Captain Platonov saluted Captain Grammont. Then the party of captains divided up to put their plan into action.

  In the end it fell to Captain Quivers to make the announcement, her interpersonal skills being judged a little softer than Captain Platonov’s. Nevertheless, panic and speculation among the crowd was rife.

  Amid the anxious chatter, Connor sought out Jacoby and Jasmine. “Isn’t this awful?” Jasmine said.

  Jacoby pulled her into a comforting hug. “It could all still be okay, Min,” he said. “There could be a thousand explanations for this. Even if Commodore Kuo got into trouble out there…”

  “And Varsha and Zak,” Jasmine said. “No one seems to be talking about them.”

  “Yes,” agreed Jacoby. “But they are strong sailors, really strong. Commodore Kuo wouldn’t have selected them otherwise, would he?”

  “What do you think happened out there?” Connor asked him.

  But Jacoby just shook his head sadly. “I don’t know, man. I just don’t know.”

  In the end, it was decided that it would make more sense to gather the students in the dining hall than in the rotunda. What had started out as a day of celebration ended as a vigil. The remaining captains tried to keep up the spirits of the students, but the overall atmosphere was mournful and claustrophobic as a tropical rainstorm broke overhead.

  Everyone kept asking the same questions over and over. What do you think happened out there? When will the search party return?

  Every time one of the captains entered the room, there was an instant hush in readiness for an announcement. But news was hard to come by, and as the minutes, then hours, ticked by, Captain Quivers had to take the stage once more and call the faculty to attention. “It’s late,” she said. “And there’s nothing more we can do here. The search for Varsha, Zak, and Commodore Kuo will continue through the night. Go back to your dormitories and try to get some sleep. Hold them in your hearts. Say a prayer for their homecoming, perhaps, but try not to get swept up in fears. I speak on behalf of all the captains when I say that I remain confident that tomorrow morning we’ll have good news for you.”

  The students drifted off to their dormitories, exhausted from the events of the day and the ongoing anxieties.

  Connor, Jasmine, Jacoby, and Aamir walked down to the quayside. It was wet after the brief but violent rainstorm. Around them stood the podium and empty stands, now soaked through, erected for Cheng Li’s investiture. In the moonlight it looked like a ghost town. But their eyes were closed to it, all their attention focused out on the harbor, hoping against hope that the search party would return with good news at any moment.

  “Look,” Aamir pointed. “Here comes one of our boats.”

  Their excitement was high as they watched the academy launch weave its way through the arch and back across the harbor. The launch was strung with lights, and its arrival was noticed by other students and staff members crossing the academy gardens. They changed direction and hastened to the quayside once more.

  The launch contained the captains—René Grammont, Kirsten Larsen, Francisco Moscardo, Apostolos Solomos—and Cheng Li. As they stepped onto the quayside, their wan faces told the story even before they opened their mouths.

  “There’s no sign of them,” Captain Grammont announced. “And it’s too dark to carry on a meaningful search. The scouts are making camp out at the island. We’ll all renew our efforts in the morning.”

  Connor looked at Cheng Li. Her face seemed empty, somehow. He considered how happy and relaxed she had seemed hours earlier. Now everything had changed.

  “I can’t help but fear the worst,” she said, unable to maintain a facade before Connor and the others.

  There was nothing any of them could say to comfort her. Captain Grammont took Cheng Li by the arm and led her back up the hill. It was not at all, reflected Connor, how her day was supposed to have ended.

  The next morning dawned bright and hot with the bluest of skies. Connor woke early, and though he had slept little, he felt full of energy and ready to get up and moving. Jacoby, who had the neighboring bunk, was snoring away, dead to the world. But then Jacoby had competed in a two-hour race the previous day, Connor reminded himself as he dressed and slipped quietly out of the room.

  As he crossed the academy gardens once more, he noticed a diminutive figure standing on the podium at the quayside. It was Cheng Li. She was staring out to sea.

  “Everything is ruined,” she said. “Today is my first day as captain, but I’m too worried about Commodore Kuo to think of anything else.”

  Connor nodded, thinking how vulnerable and alone she suddenly seemed. He was tempted to go up beside her and put his arm around her, but as ever, he found it difficult to know the right way to act around her; she could flip from vulnerable friend to scornful commander in a matter of seconds.

  “Mistress Li! Mister Tempest!” Captain Moscardo called to them from the academy terrace. He was beckoning them enthusiastically.

  “Quick!” Cheng Li said. “He must have news.” They raced up the hill.

  Captain Moscardo was breathless. “I got here as fast as I could. There’s a rumor that Commodore Kuo has returned! Apparently, he’s in his study.”

  Cheng Li’s face broke into a smile, and it was, thought Connor, like the sun appearing through clouds. Whatever her frustration about her wrecked investiture, he knew that her chief worry had been about her old friend.

  “Let’s go!” she said, pulling Connor along with her.

  The door to the headmaster’s study was ajar, and Francisco Moscardo stepped back to let Cheng Li and Connor enter first.

  Stepping inside, they found Captain Grammont had beaten them to it. He was standing in front of Commodore Kuo’s desk. His expression was not one of joy but of shell shock. Connor was confused.

  “I don’t understand,” Cheng Li said, voicing Connor’s own thoughts. “Captain Moscardo told us that Commodore Kuo had returned. That he was back here, in his study.”

  “That’s right, to a degree,” Captain Grammont said. “He didn’t know in what form. I want you to prepare yourselves for a terrible shock.”

  A shock? What was he talking about? All became clear as he stepped to one side. Behind him, Commodore Kuo was sitting in his chair, as always. Except… except that he was frozen still and had a glassy expression in his eyes. And his body was entirely drained of blood.

  “I’m sorry,” Captain Grammont said, bowing his head. “I wish I could have prepared you better for this.”

  But how could any words have prepared them for the horrific, absurd sight before their eyes? Commodore Kuo was dead, there could be no doubt about that. But he was dressed as he would have been in life and had been arranged in a lifelike pose, his hand stretched out across the desk as if he wanted to show them something.

  “What’s that?” Cheng Li asked. “He’s holding something in his hand.”

  “It’s a playing card,” said Connor.

  “Yes,” nodded Captain Grammont. “And a strange one at that. Do you see? It’s the queen of hearts, but it’s not red like it’s supposed to be. It’s black.”

  21

  MORNING LIGHT

  It was the fifth day of the voyage back to Crescent Moon Bay. Grace stood on the upper deck of the Nocturne. In some ways, returning to the ship itself had been the most natural thing. But it had been an adjustment coming back without the captain. Grace could only hold on to what hope Mosh Zu had given her that he was taking the time to heal his wounds properly. Then again, she was seeing the ship through new eyes after everything that Sally had told and shown her. It was strange but wonderful to think of her mother being here, up on the deck, sharing suntan lotion with her friends and listening to guitar m
usic. Sally seemed so frail now, but Grace had seen how full of life she had been back then.

  Leaning against the deck rail now, she thought again of her mother’s first sighting of her father, sitting out there on that rock on his red-and-white-striped towel. Thinking back to the vision, she suddenly made a fresh connection. She had seen that towel! She had held it in her hands once when she was clearing out the linen cupboard. The red had faded to the palest pink, and the fibers had grown brittle with age and sea salt. She had put it out for the garbage collection, but the moment her father had glimpsed it lying there, he had scooped it up into his arms as tenderly as if he were lifting an infant. “I think this towel has a whole lot more life left in it yet,” he’d said to Grace with a wink. She had watched in puzzlement as he folded it up carefully and placed it back on the shelf, without further explanation. Now it made perfect sense.

  Grace was so deep in thought, she was utterly oblivious to the young man jogging along the deck toward her. As he ran by, he slipped on a slick of ocean spray and careered into Grace. They both toppled to the deck.

  “I’m so sorry,” said the young man, helping Grace back up onto her feet. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. It was my fault—I was in a bit of a daze.”

  “You certainly looked lost in thought,” he said. “What were you thinking about, I wonder?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said.

  “My favorite kind!”

  Grace’s eyes turned to get a better look at the young man in front of her. He was good-looking, with short, cropped hair, gray eyes, and a lean body.

  “Do you run every day?” she inquired.

  “Without fail!” he said. “Well, they like us to keep fit.”

  “Us?” Grace echoed.

  “Us donors,” the young man clarified.

  “So you’re a donor?” she asked. Like my mother, she thought.

 

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