by G. P. Taylor
Mariah opened the hatch and stepped outside. It was even colder than before. The drone of the engines seemed louder and the beat of the giant paddles heavier. The night was black like velvet. The moon had gone and the dawn was still far off. To the north was a green glow slit across the horizon like a knife. It appeared that the world was changing, that some force was secretly at work. Mariah looked out to sea. In the faint glow, Biba saw his face change.
‘It’s Greenland,’ she said as if she could read his mind. ‘Lorenzo Zane was experimenting with the Isbrae glacier. He was trying to make power from the ice and all I know is that something went wrong.’
‘What was he trying to do?’ he asked.
‘An experiment,’ she whispered. ‘He would fire a cannon packed with silver dust into the clouds. He told my mother he was trying to make lightning to power the shipyard. The sky turned green and glowed at night. Mother said that it got worse night by night. Zane would tell her in the letters he wrote,’ Biba said as if she hated to say his name.
‘Can’t understand why he would mess with things like that. It could kill us all,’ Mariah replied.
‘There are worse things than that. My father told him to stop his experiments but he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I would hear my parents arguing about him,’ Biba said quietly.
Mariah walked the narrow boards between the gunwales and the cargo of whale oil stored on deck. Biba followed at a distance, tripping on her coat. When they were at the lifeboat Mariah didn’t hesitate. Working alone he undid the rope and pushed the boat over the side.
‘When I tell you, throw your coat into the sea,’ he said.
‘No – never!’ Biba said as she pulled the fur coat defiantly about her.
Mariah slipped the rope through his hands as the boat fell to the water.
‘All I have to do is release this catch,’ he said as his cold fingers fumbled with a brass catch at the end of the rope.
‘YOU!’ shouted a voice from the darkness.
A pistol shot flew above their heads.
Mariah shouted, ‘Get down!’
The shots came again and again from the darkness. Mariah took the flare gun from his pocket and calmly slipped a thick shell into the breach. A shot came again, splintering the wood by his head. Mariah saw a faint shadow standing far away on the cargo deck. He aimed the flare gun and fired. There was a blinding explosion as the gun jolted back and fell from his hand. The flare bounced across the deck, igniting everything it touched. It smashed into a barrel of whale oil, cracking it open. Then it rose up in the air, deflected by the barrel, and set fire to the half sail that hung windless in the night. The cloth burst into flame, tearing open and falling to the deck. Like hot tallow, the whale oil exploded in a cloud of fire and black smoke.
Shots rang out from the other side of the flames. A bullet knocked Mariah to the deck.
‘Mariah!’ screamed Biba as she ran to him.
Mariah lay motionless. He was without breath. His face was white, his eyes wide open. Biba looked at him and thought he was dead. A shot rang out again from somewhere near. It smashed into the deck rail, blasting shards of wood into the air. Biba rummaged in Mariah’s coat as a man jumped from the blazing cargo deck and walked towards her. She found a shell for the flare gun. Picking up the pistol, she broke open the barrel, loaded the cartridge, aimed and then fired.
Just as before, the flare burst from the pistol and shot through the air. It bounced once on the deck, setting fire to the whale oil. The flare bounced just as the man took aim and smashed into his chest, knocking him from his feet. He stumbled backwards, tipped over the rail and fell screaming to the cold, dark sea.
‘Who taught you to shoot?’ Mariah gasped as he looked at Biba.
‘You were shot – I saw you hit by the bullet,’ she replied as if she spoke to a ghost.
‘Spiderweb,’ Mariah said as he pulled the slug from the fibres of his coat. ‘Bulletproof.’
There was a large explosion that lit the night sky, sending a ball of fire towards the heavens. Barrels of kerosene blew from the ship, set on fire by the pool of whale oil that seeped across the deck. From the far side of the flames, they could hear the screams of the crew as they jumped from the ship.
Cartaphilus stood on the bridge screaming for them to stop.
‘Mariah Mundi, I will kill you for this! I have walked the earth and always had my way. I shall not be stopped by a lad like you.’
Mariah could see him looking down at them. Cartaphilus shook his fist as he ranted and screamed. He looked like a demon burning in hell. His hair blew wildly as the firestorm burned his ship. He clung to the iron railings as he shouted damnation upon them.
‘The lifeboat,’ Mariah said as he got to his feet. ‘Inside, now!’
Biba jumped into the boat as Mariah struggled with the brass latch.
‘It’s no use,’ he said as he took the pistol from his pocket and fired at the lock.
Biba didn’t have time to speak. The lifeboat broke free and fell safely to the water. It was soon clear of the Carasbandra. The ship paddled on, its large water-wheels churning the sea as the deck burned and kerosene barrels exploded into the air like fireworks.
Mariah climbed onto the deck rail and looked to the water below. Seeing the lifeboat in the distance he knew he could make if he jumped now. But just as he closed his eyes and leant forward towards the sea, a hand grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him back.
‘Don’t think you’ll get away that easily,’ Cartaphilus said as he threw Mariah to the floor. ‘Captains and killers go down with the ship and the only difference between you and I is that Cartaphilus will survive no matter what.’
‘You’ll drown like the rest of them if you don’t go now,’ Mariah said, scrambling backwards away from him.
‘You still don’t know who I am, do you?’ Cartaphilus said smugly. ‘What is death to me but a temporary inconvenience?’
He grabbed Mariah by the coat and threw him towards the flames. It was as if Mariah were but a rag doll to be played with however Cartaphilus wished. He crashed to the deck, winded by the blow. Then Mariah slipped his hand inside his coat, pulled out the pistol given to him by Charity, slipped back the catch and fired. Cartaphilus was jolted by the shot and for a moment staggered back. He wiped his hand across the front of his blood-stained shirt and pulled it open to expose the wound.
Mariah could not believe what he saw. The bullet had passed through the ribs and into the heart – of that he was sure. In the burning light, Mariah could see the wound. Cartaphilus rubbed the wound again and it was gone.
‘It can’t be,’ Mariah said in disbelief.
‘I will not take the time to explain. I am weary of this existence and hope beyond hope that you could kill me, to free me from the drudgery of this life,’ Cartaphilus said as he sat down next to Mariah. ‘Go, leave me here. You have earned your freedom. You are a brave lad, Mariah Mundi, and I no longer have the strength to kill you for the sake of it. Too many deaths add to the weight of my judgement. I fear one more will be too much for me.’
Cartaphilus panted like an old dog. His hair was stuck to his face. His beard was singed by the flames of the inferno.
‘Who are you?’ Mariah asked.
‘A wandering Aramean,’ he replied with a sigh and a cough. ‘That is all you need to know. I will meet with you again, that is for sure … Now go. Take the lifeboat and look out for a man called Markesan …’
For a moment Mariah stared him eye to eye. He was not sure if it was the reflection of the raging flames or something with-in Cartaphilus that shone so brightly in the man’s eyes. It was as if he had seen the world and knew the desires of all hearts.
‘Come with me,’ Mariah said as he got to his feet and ran to the front of the ship.
‘I stay to be with my gold. I would just bring a curse on you, Mariah,’ Cartaphilus said as he crawled towards a hatch that led below.
Cartaphilus slipped from si
ght. The ship burned and lit the night sky as it steamed on.
Mariah unhooked the lifeboat. Once inside, he let it fall to the water. The ropes were pulled from the boat as the churning paddles of the burning Carasbandra crashed towards him, the water boiling and bubbling in the steaming wake. The paddles turned faster as he looked up at the gigantic steel palms that smashed against the sea and drove the ship on.
Just as they were about to strike, the ship veered to port. A blade of the paddle crashed into the sea, narrowly missing the lifeboat. Mariah looked up. There on the bridge, surrounded by smoke and flames, was Cartaphilus. He had turned the ship away from Mariah, saving his life. As the lifeboat slipped from sight, Cartaphilus looked down and raised his hand.
The ship steamed on into the night. It burnt even brighter as the drone of the engine was suddenly stilled. Mariah watched the fate of the Carasbandra from the lifeboat. A vast explosion ripped out the belly of the ship and threw wood and metal high into the air. The sky burnt with a crimson glow as blast followed blast. It shimmered the still, cold water and trembled the air. The flames burnt brightly as the steam engine burst open and hissed and wailed like a dying vixen.
There came a sound like the breaking of bones. The hull cracked open and the sea flooded in. The stern of the ship rose up, the paddles turning slowly. Mariah held his breath as he witnessed the fiery death of the Carasbandra, dragged down to the depths by the weight of the ingots in its hold. It was as if he watched a giant creature give up its life.
The water began to boil around the ship as the flames were slowly submerged. The night grew dark. The Carasbandra slipped silently beneath the waves about a mile from him.
‘Mariah!’ shouted a voice from the darkness. ‘How did you escape?’
Mariah turned. There was Biba. He said nothing as they stood in their two separate boats watching the ship sink into the sea as if they attended the funeral of an old friend.
‘You look wet,’ he said as the ship finally vanished.
‘How did you escape?’ she asked.
‘Cartaphilus,’ he replied. ‘He let me go. I thought he would kill me and then …’ Mariah saw again the look in the eyes of Cartaphilus. It was as if he had seen much in his life that no man had ever seen before. ‘I know I’ll see him again.’
‘The Triton is bound to have seen the explosions – they’ll come looking for us,’ Biba said as she pulled the two boats together.
‘Then we shall wait,’ he said. He sat at the tiller as Biba climbed on board slowly. ‘It will be dawn within the hour.’
They slept curled in Biba’s fur coat, their bodies bringing warmth to each other. Biba woke suddenly as in the half-light of dawn she heard a familiar sound.
‘Mariah,’ she said excitedly. ‘The Bicameralist – it’s here!’
Mariah opened his eyes. He had dreamed of England and the Prince Regent hotel. He had been warm and dry, eating fish tails and sliced potato. Now he opened his eyes on the cold grey Atlantic Ocean.
‘What?’ he asked as he rubbed his face with the collar of her coat.
The sound came from the east. It skirted the calm sea like a dragonfly. It moved back and forth, the blades of the gigantic propellers touching the water.
‘They can’t see us. I know they can’t see us,’ Biba said, her voice edged with panic.
‘We’re here!’ he shouted as he got to his feet waving his arms.
The Bicameralist turned and headed back towards the Triton as if its mission had failed.
‘They’ve gone – they can’t go!’ Biba screamed thinking her one chance had now departed.
Mariah rummaged in the sealed compartment by the hatch. He loaded the flare gun he found and fired it into the air. It cracked with a bright red light as the shell exploded. The Bicameralist appeared to hesitate and then turned again. Mariah fired another flare. The skyship beamed its searchlight across the sea, circling them in pure white light. It drew close and then hovered above them.
The dawn broke. From underneath the skyship a flight of steel stairs slid out. A man stood at the very tip, holding fast with one hand and waving with the other. The steps came closer and closer.
‘Casper Vikash!’ Biba screamed with joy to see him. ‘You found us!’
Vikash held out his hand and pulled Biba from the boat and then hooked her to the steps. He took hold of Mariah and lifted him from the lifeboat.
‘We have much to tell you Casper,’ Biba said as she held back her tears.
‘And I you,’ he replied as the skyship pulled them ever higher and away from the sea.
[18]
Skyship
THE Bicameralist soared like a ghost across the sky. Inside the long gondola Mariah could hear only the faint sound of the wind. It was as if the skyship had no engines and was carried by the jet stream. He looked down upon the Atlantic. It was calm and still. Where the Carasbandra had sunk the water appeared to smoke and he could see the debris of the ship floating in the sea. Barrels of whale oil, a broken mast, lifeless swimmers bobbed back and forth. There was no sign of Cartaphilus. Even though he was gone, Mariah could not get the man from his mind. He could still see his piercing eyes and, what was more, could still see all that flickered within. It was as if he looked at a moving picture – the images flashed, bright and clear and very real. It was as if the thoughts of Cartaphilus had spilled out and now danced before him.
‘Chocolate?’ Vikash asked. He tapped Mariah on the shoulder and presented him with a cup of thick, steaming liquid. ‘Biba tells me she hasn’t eaten.’
Mariah looked back to the row of leather chairs that were next to the window behind him. Biba slept, sprawled across them, wrapped in her coat. The gondola looked as though it had been hand-carved from a single piece of dark wood and then fitted with grey leather. The seats were softer than anything Mariah had known before. The walls had been covered in gold leaf. They shimmered with every change of light as the skyship moved on. The carpet was the same as that in DeFeaux’s stateroom. It was lush and bright.
He couldn’t see the pilot, nor knew how the Skyship was sailed through the clouds. Vikash had brought them both to the cabin and locked the door behind them. Mariah knew there were many more rooms to the gondola. The passageway stretched out the length of the ship from where they had entered, but he had seen no other crew than Vikash. It was as if the ship sailed itself silently through the sky.
‘They were going to hold her for ransom. I had to get her from the ship,’ Mariah said when he had taken in all the detail around him. ‘I didn’t want her to leave the Triton.’
‘That would have been impossible. I know Biba too well. When she sets her heart on something she has to do it. I am just thankful you went with her,’ Vikash said as he sat in the seat next to him.
‘Cartaphilus said that I had to beware a man called Markesan,’ Mariah said as he sipped the bitter chocolate. It brightened his mind and took away the tiredness.
‘Markesan is on the Triton – that we know,’ said Vikash.
‘There is a bomb on the Triton – they are going to explode it even though they took the gold,’ Mariah said.
‘We found it, there is no need to worry,’ replied Vikash.
‘And Captain Jack, is he –’
‘Fine, in good spirits,’ said Vikash. ‘And he is not too concerned about your adventure.’
Mariah sighed in relief. ‘That is what I feared the most.’
‘Then all is well,’ said Vikash.
But Mariah knew all was not well. There was a growing dread in his heart as if his world was about to come to an end. As he drank the chocolate he looked out to the sea below like a gigantic sheet of black ice. The morning sun glistened on the water as a dark hand of cloud moved south towards them. He could see the Triton in the distance and further still, on the edge of the horizon, the Ketos. Both ships billowed steam as they sailed on, rolling out their wakes. It looked as if the Triton would never make up time and that the Great Race was already lost.
‘What are they doing?’ he asked as they got nearer to the ship. He could see a vast flapping silk rag hanging over the side of the Triton and an army of ant-like men struggling to hold open an envelope of silk.
‘The Marquis has decided that the passengers need to be entertained. Business as usual,’ Vikash said.
‘As usual?’ Mariah asked.
‘Charity and I found the bomb – it exploded over the side of the ship. There was some damage and the passengers think they are in danger. To keep them quiet the Marquis is going to launch the Montgolfier balloon. He will take the first ride to show them it is safe.’
‘From the ship? But how will they land?’ Mariah asked.
‘The Montgolfier is tethered to the ship and they will be winched back – as simple as that,’ he said.
As they got nearer Mariah could see the preparations taking place on deck. All along the side of the ship stretched a line of eager passengers waiting for the balloon to be inflated with hot air. As the Bicameralist approached they stood back. Some began to applaud whilst others looked fearfully at the gigantic craft.
Biba woke from her sleep and, seeing the crowds, began to wave.
‘What is father doing?’ she asked Vikash as she noticed him on the upper deck by the large wicker basket of the Montgolfier.
‘He is riding on the balloon with your mother and Captain Tharakan – it is to show the passengers it is safe,’ said Vikash.
‘And is it?’ Biba asked.
Vikash laughed. ‘It is only a balloon trip on the end of a rope – what can go wrong?’
He smiled at Biba and flicked the end of her nose with his finger. It calmed her. She shrugged her shoulders and giggled as the Bicameralist began to lower the extending ladder towards the ship.