Mariah Mundi and the Ship of Fools

by G. P. Taylor

  ‘The Bicameralist will come for you at eleven-thirty. Be ready,’ Ellerby said, his whispered words echoing through the engine room.

  ‘And the device?’ Zane asked.

  ‘Markesan assures me that it is ready as you asked,’ Ellerby replied quietly.

  ‘Good,’ said Zane. ‘All I need is the Thannometer and we can be gone.’

  Mariah had heard enough. He realised that they planned to escape the ship. Far below in the meagre light of the funnel, Mariah could see the legs of a man. They were covered in white silk just like his own. Each boot was frozen and covered in a thick layer of frost. He stepped from the plate onto the first tread of the descent. It grew colder by the inch until he could feel the ice forming on his lips and eyebrows.

  When he came to the bottom tread he could see the man clearly. He was wedged in the neck of the funnel and was completely frozen. Mariah searched the icy pockets of his oversuit. Just below the belt he found the Thannometer. He struggled, took it out and stared at the device. It was made of solid gold. At one end was a glass orb that looked as though it was filled with green smoke. It was then that the Thannometer trembled in his hand, as if the heat of his body gave it life. The orb glowed dimly whilst inside three silver dials turned and then stopped – 636. Mariah read the number several times but did not know what it meant.

  Putting the Thannometer in the pocket of his oversuit, Mariah retraced his steps and climbed back down the ladder. Zane was alone. Ellerby had gone.

  ‘Did you find it?’ Zane asked as he held out his hands.

  Mariah handed over the device and looked at Zane. ‘What does it do?’ he asked.

  ‘It measures perpetual motion – but that shouldn’t concern you,’ he said. He paused and looked up to the hatch high above them. ‘There is one thing. The hatch is open – I will need your help to close it. First I have to set the generator and as soon as the hatch is closed the problem will be gone.’

  ‘Gone?’ asked Mariah. ‘The man will be gone?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said calmly. ‘Crunched up, minced – and spat out into the sea,’ Zane replied.

  ‘I think I need to go – you said you would tell me where Biba had gone,’ Mariah said as he unbuttoned the overall.

  ‘That is what I wanted to talk to you about. Biba is a hysterical girl – like all girls – and not to be trusted. She runs away and hides for effect. When she came to my house in Calgary she vanished for a whole day. When we searched for her, there she was in the larder eating cup cakes.’

  ‘But she vanished from Deck 13,’ Mariah protested. ‘Someone took her – it was Shanjing.’

  By the look on Zane’s face, Mariah knew he had said too much.

  ‘Shanjing?’ he said as he stepped towards him, his eyes searching every inch of Mariah’s face. ‘Did you say Shanjing?’

  Mariah stiffened himself. He shrugged his shoulders and lifted his head and stared at Zane eye to eye.

  ‘Shanjing. Just like I said before. Everyone thinks he’s a puppet, a mannequin, but he’s not …’

  ‘How surprising,’ Zane said as he recovered himself and tried to turn his frown into a smile. ‘Mr Ellerby did mention something about a rumour.’ Zane looked at Mariah and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘So you will help?’

  ‘The hatch?’ Mariah replied reluctantly.

  ‘If you would be so kind …’ Zane replied.

  Mariah felt that he had no option other than to help Lorenzo Zane. He took off the overall and turned towards the ladder. Zane went ahead of him and climbed the ladder. He was quick and nimble, and Mariah thought him to be faster than most men of his age. At the top, Zane pulled the suspenders on his trousers and looked down at him.

  ‘Thought you would be faster than that, Mariah Mundi. I need you to reach in and drop the catch whilst I turn on the vacuum.’ Zane spoke eagerly as he walked the small gantry just below the roof of the engine room. There were several dials and a steel lever. Zane turned three of the dials and then pushed the lever down. ‘Let me know when you’ve pulled the catch and I’ll help with the door.’

  Mariah looked in. He could see the catch – it was a small brass handle that held up the hatch door. It was just out of reach. He stretched further inside the hatch, and further … There was a sharp kick in his back, then a punch. Mariah was pushed inside. The hatch door was slammed shut behind him.

  ‘Let me out!’ he screamed as he scrambled on the treads and tried to open the door.

  Zane stared in through a thick plate porthole and smiled.

  ‘Mariah, what an accident …’ he said with a smile. ‘I can’t open the door and the vacuum is about to fire. I’m so sorry. The door is – stuck.’

  Zane sang the last word. There was a sudden drop in the pressure of the air and from far away Mariah could hear the rushing of water. The sound bubbled, growing in intensity as it vibrated the inside of the chamber. His eyes began to burst as the air was sucked from around him. The rushing air tore at his clothes. The frozen dead crewman began to vibrate as if he were dancing. His stiffened legs jumped back and forth as the whole contraption moved with the force of the air being sucked away. Zane stared in and laughed.

  ‘Don’t do this!’ Mariah shouted, his words unheard under the deafening sound of the hurricane that now hurtled through the pipes towards him.

  The crewman slowly began to disappear down the outlet pipe. His feet began to melt as what was left of the air got hotter and hotter. Beads of sweat trickled down Mariah’s face as a burning wind filled the chamber. The man melted faster as he was sucked away. Then, like a bullet blasted from a gun, there was a sudden explosion and the man disappeared in a cloud of fragmenting ice.

  Mariah was thrown towards the outlet pipe. The wind surged around him, lifting him from his feet as if he were straw and pushing him towards the outlet where the crewman had disappeared. From deep within he could hear the churning of the blades far below. They cut like sabres through the hurricane.

  He glanced back as he spun around and around, lifted in a vortex of air. Zane peered into the chamber and laughed as Mariah was sucked into the funnel. The steel sides closed around him. The air rushed by – it pulled at his skin and jowled his face. He thought his eyes would burst. Mariah put his hands out to steady himself as he went deeper and deeper.

  There was the sound of crunching and smashing as the steel blades span faster, and Mariah knew what was to come. He stretched out in an attempt to slow himself down. The steel funnel tore against the Spiderweb of his coat. It held fast. Strands of hair were torn from his head by the force of the vacuum. Mariah reached into his pocket and took hold of the pistol. He fought against the wind as he pressed the gun against the metal wall and aimed it at the approaching blades.

  Mariah closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger again and again until he had emptied the magazine of all but one last shot. The blades that had cut up the frozen mariner shattered and broke off, spinning down the tube. They splintered, one after another, as the machine disintegrated.

  Mariah held fast to the wall as the air slowed to a breeze. He pressed the gun to the metal and fired the last bullet. It burst through the steel. There was a violent hissing like a thousand snakes as the pipe tore open. The Zane Generator groaned like a dying creature without breath. The lights of the Triton flickered and then dimmed. Mariah was spat out of the funnel and onto the floor of the engine room. As he lay in a pool of blood and ice, he could hear Zane screaming, screaming to find and kill Mariah Mundi.

  [22]

  Zercidious

  STILL fleeing Shanjing, Biba stumbled through the hatch door and on to the stage of the Saloon Theatre. It was in complete darkness. The heavy curtain was stretched across the high arch and she could see nothing at all. It was thick, musty black as if she were blind. But unexpectedly she could sense people near. At first she thought it to be Shanjing. Then she realised that whoever was there was all around her.

  Biba heard the tap, tap, tapping of impatient feet. Someone pushed her
out of the way but said nothing. She heard the tinkle of beads close to her, and suddenly the curtain opened. Music began to play. Lights burst through the blackness. The audience laughed. She gasped. All around her were dancers. Each was garbed in silver with a tall feather hat and a plumed skirt. They glared at her to leave. Biba looked to the side of the stage. There was Shanjing, hiding in the shadows, waiting for her. He smiled, knowing there was nowhere for her to go.

  Biba stood quite still as all about her tall Amazons danced and swirled with grace. They seemed to ignore the girl in the tattered and torn fur coat. Her forlorn smile ebbed as she peered at the laughing faces of the men in the first three rows who shouted and sneered as the band played on. A man to her right, standing in the wings, shouted at her. His words died in the sound of thumping feet and shrill violins.

  ‘Get off! Now!’ he said again as she stood petrified by the limelit faces.

  ‘This way, Biba …’ Shanjing said, taunting her.

  No one seemed to be able to see him. He had wrapped himself in the stage curtain, with only the leather skin of his face visible. His red eyes appeared to glow in the crisp white light as he cackled like a miniature madman. Then with no warning and not caring as to his revelation, he sprang from the curtain to the stage.

  It was as if the devil had appeared. The dancers, who had seen Shanjing as a puppet in the arms of Charlemagne every night, screamed.

  ‘He’s alive,’ shouted one as she threw her feather boa to the floor, turned and dived into the audience.

  The effect of his appearance as a sentient creature was dramatic. The orchestra stopped playing, threw down their instruments and ran. Shanjing became more excited. It was as if he no longer cared.

  ‘You are going to die!’ he screamed as they fled. ‘All of you … You shall play as the ship sinks.’

  The audience surged from their seats, screaming. They tipped tables and chairs as they ran to the doors. They too believed that Shanjing had been transformed from a mannequin to a man. Just as Biba dived from the stage a passenger pulled a small dandy pistol from his pocket and fired at Shanjing. The bullet bounced off his coat and fell to the floor like a squashed fly. The sight of Shanjing repelling the bullet added to the terror. As a cacophony of horrified screams filled the theatre, Shanjing stood on the stage like an old master and held his arms in the air as if he were about to part the sea.

  ‘Get the Captain,’ shouted a man. ‘The doll is possessed!’

  ‘Possessed?’ asked Shanjing as he looked at the terrified man. ‘It shall be you who is possessed – possessed by fear as you see the Triton sinking beneath your feet and the ocean biting with icy teeth at your body.’

  The man fainted with fear. He fell back against a small table, knocking the candle to the floor. Biba tried to hide as the mannequin paced the stage looking for her. The audience ran in terror from the theatre, trampling one another to get through the doors. They howled and screamed as Shanjing barked prophecies from the stage like a dog at the Wailing Wall.

  ‘It is meant to be … I am Shanjing – a man, not a puppet!’ Shanjing screamed at them as they fled. ‘Listen! Listen to me!’

  Biba slid quietly to the side of the room. She hid by the stairway door behind the abandoned instruments of the orchestra. The room emptied quickly and Shanjing stood silently with no one to listen to him. His curses became a whisper until he was finally silent.

  Biba slowly turned the handle and opened the door. If the ship was designed like the Ketos, she knew she would be able to slip through the door, go down several flights of stairs and come to the circus. From there, she knew she could get the steam elevator back to Deck 13. Her hands felt stiff, her fingers were cold and numb with fear. She could see the shadow of Shanjing stretching across the floor, lit by the limelight candles. Faces stared in through the round glass windows in the saloon doors. No one dared enter. She could hear the crowds outside. Shanjing lowered his arms and nodded his head very slowly. It was as if he were listening to a silent voice telling him what to do.

  ‘Yes, yes, that’s it,’ he said over and over. ‘I know what will be …’ Shanjing turned his head towards where she was hiding as if he had been told where she was. ‘Biba – come out.’

  Biba turned the handle further and opened the stairway door as quietly as she could. Crowds pressed against the entrance to the saloon, trying to peer in to see what Shanjing would do next. Biba slipped slowly into the blackness of the stairwell and closed the door behind her.

  There was a loud crash as the wooden door split and a juggler’s spear flew past her face. It had burst through the door, sending shards and splinters into the air. The spear cut through her fur coat, pushing her back. Biba screamed with surprise.

  Without thinking she turned and with one hand slipped the latch of the door. It was just in time. Small hands pulled against the handle on the outside. She could hear Shanjing yelling dementedly.

  ‘I’ll have to kill you – it is a matter of principle!’ Shanjing screamed.

  Again there was a splintering of wood as another spear smashed through the door. Biba ducked down as it shot above her head and wedged itself in the opposite wall of the narrow landing.

  ‘Leave me be!’ she shouted instinctively, as if ridding herself of a demon inside.

  ‘I am Shanjing,’ said the voice as if it were to take her soul. ‘I cannot do that …’

  Biba slipped quickly under the shaft of the spear and ran down the dark stairway. She could hear the churning of the ship’s engines. The sound seemed different, slower, laboured, as if they struggled to turn and turn.

  Behind her, small hands beat against the door. She knew it was Shanjing. He beat his fists against the door and Biba feared it would give way. She ran further into the gloom. The wall lights were dim, faint and dying. They cast shadows along the corridors and dimmed the sound of her running. Her fur coat caught on a doorway. She pulled, and the coat tore as she ran on. From far away she heard the door open and then close quickly.

  She knew Shanjing was now behind her in the relentless chase. Biba ran faster, desperate to get to the circus and then to the steam elevator. She hoped there would be people. They would protect her. But something made her worry, a nagging feeling in her heart that told her Shanjing now cared nothing about what he would do. The secret of him being alive would be about the ship. In her mind she could see him being hunted and chased just as she was.

  The hatch to the circus soon came. Biba had run and run until her lungs were bursting and she could run no more. She sobbed, knowing he was behind her. In her heart she wanted to give up, to sit down where she was in the darkness and allow herself to be caught. It was pointless, she thought as she opened the door. He would find her.

  The door to the circus opened easily. She could smell the animals and sawdust but when she looked all was dark, empty and silent. No one was there. Biba closed the door and spun the wheel on the hatch as tightly as she could. Her mind raced, wondering where everyone had gone.

  ‘Mr Blake … Mr Blake,’ she said in a loud whisper, hoping he would be at the door where he always was.

  ‘Biba,’ came a voice from the darkness. ‘I thought you would come here …’

  It was as if the words were icy hands that gripped her tightly. Shanjing was close by. Biba could sense him near to her. She stood silently waiting. It was as if she knew he would pounce from the darkness like a cat.

  ‘Come on then, Shanjing. I can run no more,’ she said loudly, out of breath, her voice trembling angrily. ‘Here and now. I will fight you here and now.’

  A sudden breeze lifted the sawdust about her feet. Biba stumbled forward.

  ‘I know you are near,’ said Shanjing as if he were close by.

  Biba edged her hand along the side of the tiger cage. She could hear the creature sleeping in the compartment at the far end.

  ‘Rollo,’ she whispered quietly. ‘Rollo …’

  The tiger purred as it stirred in its dark-eyed sleep. She knew it t
o be Rollo. Eduardo the man-eater was deaf and couldn’t hear her calling.

  ‘The tiger won’t protect you,’ Shanjing said from inside the cage. ‘I am already here and he is nothing but a pussy cat.’

  The voice was in her face – then a hand darted from the blackness like a shadow and took hold of her hair. It pulled her to the cage. Biba dropped instinctively to the floor. Shanjing lost his grip as she screamed. Biba ran and found the steps of the next cage. She slid the catch from the door and slipped inside. Trying to hold her laboured and fearful breath, she waited in the darkness.

  There was the sound of the striking of a tinderbox. A light burnt in the darkness. Shanjing stood outside the cage. In each hand was a juggler’s knife with a burning handle. He held them by the tips of the blades as he waved them back and forth. By his feet were several more burning knives, neatly stacked upon the juggler’s rack.

  ‘Do you think I am mad enough to follow you into Eduardo’s cage?’ he asked. ‘That beast is still chomping on the bones of Max Arras. I am only a breakfast morsel for one so great as Eduardo.’

  Shanjing spun the blades as if he had done it countless times before. They burnt circles of fire in the darkness and illuminated the man-mannequin like a ghost. He laughed as he stopped, flicked one knife in the air, caught it and then threw it at the cage. It slammed into the trailer board like a fiery razor. The knife dripped fire to the floor below.

  ‘Come out, Biba … The cat will wake and eat you,’ Shanjing taunted her as he prepared to throw another knife.

  ‘I would rather be eaten alive than allow you to kill me.’ Biba shrieked in fear as Shanjing threw another blade. It spun like a fire-wheel and slammed into the wood. The knife juddered the cage. Eduardo the tiger growled in his sleep.

  ‘Then I shall wake the beast and watch in my delight,’ he scoffed as he picked up another blade from the ivory stand.