Hunt for the Pyxis

by Zoë Ferraris

  “The navy’s behind us, sir. Three ships. Men-of-war.”

  This caused some murmuring in the crowd, but the captain nodded. “Mouncey, I want another head count to make sure we didn’t leave anyone behind. Once that’s done, we’ll go up to full speed.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mouncey said, scurrying off.

  “You two.” The captain motioned to Emma and Herbie. “Who are you?”

  Emma glanced nervously at Herbie. “I’m Emma,” she said. “And this is Herbie.”

  “Emma and Herbie who?”

  “Emma Garton and Herbert Yee.”

  Lovesey’s one good eye was focused on Emma’s face. “Nelson,” he said, “would you be so kind?” The spyglass floated over, positioning himself in front of Lovesey’s ruined eye. Now Nelson’s great bloodshot eye stared down at them while Lovesey gave an odd harrumph. There was an intensity in the gaze that made Emma shrink.

  Lovesey nudged the spyglass away, looking thoughtful.

  “Are you from Delphinus?” he inquired.

  “Uh, no…we’re from Monkey,” Emma said.

  “That’s a long way,” the captain replied. “Where are your parents?”

  “Actually, I’m looking for them,” she said. “They were kidnapped.”

  Lovesey turned to Herbie. “And you?”

  “I’m with her?” he squeaked.

  “And why was the navy chasing you?”

  Emma’s mind fumbled about for an explanation, but she was so nervous and angry, and the crew was staring at her so intently, that she couldn’t think of a single good lie. All she knew was that she wouldn’t tell them about the Pyxis.

  “I don’t know,” she said. But the moment the words left her mouth, she realized that Lovesey didn’t believe them any more than she did.

  “It’s very odd,” he replied. “You see, the navy doesn’t usually send so many ships to chase down two small children. Now, they might consider stealing a whole ship full of children, but to go to all that trouble just to find two? In all my years I have never seen the navy go to such lengths, and most certainly not in a busy port like Amphitrite. Why, there are plenty of children there, if children were what they were after.”

  Emma swallowed hard.

  “Do you care to elaborate on your explanation?” Lovesey asked. It wasn’t really a question so much as a threat. Emma looked to Herbie, but he had nothing to say.

  “Very well,” Lovesey replied coolly. “The navy’s after you, which means that you’re outlaws, and unfortunately, I can’t afford to harbor you on my ship. It will only endanger everyone else on board. For that reason, we’ll be letting you off on the Cygnus system. Albireo, to be exact. That’s our next port of call.”

  Emma fought the impulse to tell him the truth—that they were hiding the Pyxis, which was pretty important. But she knew that it was dangerous to reveal that secret. And anyway, from the jut of Lovesey’s chin, she could see that he was as firm as old mutton. She felt the sudden, dead weight of disappointment. Someone with a ship full of children ought to be more sympathetic.

  “Santher,” the captain said, “have someone show them to the dining hall and then to their rooms. Tomorrow, I want them put to work in the aerie.”

  “The aerie, sir?” Santher seemed a bit surprised.

  “Yes, you heard me.” Lovesey looked at the two of them, but particularly at Emma. “And get that damned ship out of my cargo hold.”

  The Argh’s dining hall was fit for the great kings of Leo. Tables filled the large space, each surrounded by many high-backed chairs, most of which were big enough to be thrones. Two or three children could sit in each. Arghs were everywhere, standing in groups. Some of them were even sitting on the tables. Everyone wore red vests and beige tunics and trousers, which looked remarkably like old military uniforms. Most of the tunics were much too large for the children’s small frames, and many had the same worn spot on the chest where it looked as if a lion-shaped patch had been removed.

  The ship’s cook, Nisba, came out of the kitchen with a group of Arghs. They all carried plates of food on each arm. Nisba didn’t look like the sort of woman you would find serving hundreds of loud children. She was slender, but her tall black boots gave the impression of toughness, as did the pile of electric-red hair that framed her face with its own sort of wildness. Barking orders to the servers, she moved through the crowd and made sure plates were set on every table.

  When Emma and Herbie entered the room, it grew considerably quieter. Even Nisba turned to stare. Word had already spread that there were guests on board, and dozens of curious eyes took in Emma’s blue puffer jacket and Herbie’s green windbreaker. The younger kids in the room began puzzling out which system Herbie was from, and whispers of “Perseus” and “Orion” floated about. Emma, they figured, was just a Monkey, because the monkeys had a strong feeling about these things, and they had already said so, but Herbie—well, he was another matter.

  “Perhaps he’s Draco royalty,” someone whispered.

  Emma overheard this remark and snorted. “Ragnar.”

  But Herbie had noticed Laika, the young girl they’d seen on deck. She was sitting at a table with Mouncey and Santher.

  “Let’s sit there,” Herbie said.

  “Okay. Why?”

  “Didn’t you see her before? She was holding a hawk.”

  They made their way to the table. Herbie took the seat beside Laika, leaving Emma with a seat facing the boys.

  “Hi,” Laika said brightly. “I’m Laika. I’m from Canis Minor. And that’s—”

  Mouncey cut her off. “Actually,” he said, pointing at Emma, “we want to know where you’re from.”

  “I told you already,” she said a bit stiffly. “We’re from Monkey.” She wished she’d chosen a seat farther from Mouncey. He was giving her the evil eye.

  Another Argh arrived at their table with plates of hot food—chicken pies and potatoes—and everyone began eating except Laika, who leaned forward conspiratorially.

  “SO,” she whispered, “tell us everything you know.”

  “What do you mean?” Emma asked.

  “About the pirates.”

  There was such a look of eager anticipation in Laika’s eyes that Emma hated to say her next words. “I don’t know anything about the pirates.”

  “Good grace, Laika,” Mouncey snapped. “Would you please stop with that pirate nonsense?”

  “Shut up!” she said. “You know they’re out there. They have to be.” She turned to Emma. “We know they’re very secretive.”

  “Or maybe they just don’t exist,” Mouncey said.

  “Uh, well, we saw a notice on Delphinus…,” Herbie offered.

  Laika’s face fell.

  “I’m sorry,” Emma said. “I really don’t know any pirates. We’re from a remote star on Monkey, and—”

  “But you must know something,” Laika said. “Why else would the navy be chasing you?”

  “Really,” Emma said. “We don’t know anything. We’ve never been to space before this.”

  “Why are you looking for pirates?” Herbie asked.

  “Because they’re the only ones who stand up to the Queen,” Laika said, seeming surprised that he didn’t know this already.

  “We don’t know anything about that,” Herbie admitted.

  “You can see that he means it,” Mouncey remarked, leaning into Laika’s ear. “Nobody knows about the pirates, because they don’t exist. The Queen killed them all. Now stop asking everyone!”

  Slowly, Laika picked up her fork and started eating, glancing up occasionally to regard Emma and Herbie with disappointment.

  Down a series of long, carpeted hallways, they passed a clock and a wooden statue of Leo’s King, Cor Leonis, whose sword was held aloft in a heroic aspect. However, the king’s right leg had been sawed off and was speared like a sausage at the end of his sword.

  Taking a right at the statue, their guide, Wardle, led Emma and Herbie down a dead-end hallway. Wardle had s
mall brown eyes, a thick snub nose, and a terrifically large jaw. Taken separately, his features might have been ugly, but together they were strangely handsome. Wardle came from the Cetus system, named after a terrible sea monster with gaping jaws, goatlike forelegs, and a serpent’s tail. He showed them the slight webbing between his fingers and explained that he could hold his breath underwater for twenty-eight minutes.

  “Do you have gills?” Herbie asked.

  “No.” Wardle looked offended. “Gills are for fish.”

  They stopped at a door at the very end of the hallway. It was narrower than the others, and it took some effort to turn the key in the disused lock.

  “This is your room,” he said to Emma, his voice deep and rumbly. “A bit out of the way of things, but I guess it’s only temporary.”

  She entered a cavelike chamber. It had thinning red carpets and a single bright candle flickering on the wall.

  Emma turned to Wardle. “Aren’t there beds?” she asked.

  Wardle pointed a thick finger at three doors in the wall. “Bedrooms’s in there,” he said. “It’s a Leo ship, you know!”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Wardle motioned to Herbie. “Your room’s down the hall. Follow me.”

  Emma said goodnight to Herbie and opened the first door in the wall. It looked to be a passageway into a deeper compartment. She ducked into the passage and approached an even smaller arched door. It was old and wooden, but elegantly carved with regal lions that glimmered in the candlelight.

  Opening the door, she was pleased to find a small room that smelled of wood. To the left was a bed draped in a velvet quilt. To the right, a row of candles protruded from the wall, filling the room with a golden light. Three portholes above the bed were splattered with rain.

  Emma sat heavily on the bed. She was trying not to think about all the things she’d lost, but remembering the Markab filled her with a sense that some malicious force in the universe was trying very hard to take every last thing away from her. First her parents, then, well…Earth. Then the Markab. And it was all because of the Pyxis.

  Suddenly remembering that it was around her neck, she fumbled to unzip her jacket, felt the bump it made in her shirt, and let out a tremendous sigh of relief.

  She stripped her shoes and jacket off, tossed them at the end of the bed, and climbed under the covers, where it was at least partially warm. Her eyelids felt as if they were made of lead. She hadn’t slept for at least twenty-four hours, and before that she’d only slept fitfully. She wanted to keep thinking about every crazy thing she’d seen since coming to space, but as she lay in the large, cozy bed, she felt her eyes shutting, felt the delicious sensation of falling into a deep, warm, well-deserved sleep….

  The crab watch clanged its way through the Strand’s chilly night, but Emma heard nothing of it. Nestled deep inside the Argh, she was aware of the occasional patter of rain on her windows and the strange creakings and groanings of the ship—which in her dreams she mistook for a pile of snoring bears, or the wooden chuckling of a carriage on a cobblestone street. She did, however, hear the breakfast bell jangle, and the distant slamming of doors, and the thundering of feet on the carpet in the hall, but she was so exhausted and so comfortable in her bed that she simply rolled over and went back to sleep. It was only when she heard her own door open and close that she forced her eyes open and grudgingly sat up.

  There was no one in the room, but a uniform was lying on the trunk by the door. It was the same beige tunic and trousers that all the Arghs wore. Beside it was a red vest and a pair of boots.

  Emma was sore from all the sailing they’d done, so it was a slow, painful task to slip out of her dirty jeans and T-shirt and into the clean trousers and tunic. As she was folding up her clothes, she heard a crinkling sound and remembered the notice she’d taken from the lamppost on Amphitrite. She removed it from the pocket of her jeans.

  The sight of her mother brought a wave of sadness and grudging pride. Mom looked cocky, tough, and beautiful—not Mom at all. For the first time, Emma wasn’t so embarrassed that she looked so much like her.

  Then her eyes fell on her dad in the photograph. Seeing him brought a different feeling. His expression was cold in a way she’d never seen. It was easy to imagine the man in the photograph telling a blatant lie. “I was in Phoenix.” She felt a jolt of betrayal. That didn’t feel like the same Dad who’d taken her on the Markab all those years.

  He must have had a good reason for lying to her. He’d been hiding the Pyxis all this time, and Emma was certain there was much more to the story than she knew. After seeing him get shot, she could believe that he’d been keeping a deadly secret—perhaps dangerous enough that he had needed to hide it from her as well. She was suddenly filled with a new burst of fear that the gunshot had killed him, that he was dead now, and that she would never see him or Mom again. Quickly folding the notice and stuffing it into her pocket, she left the room.

  Emma and Herbie met in the corridor and went to the dining hall.

  “I need to do something to find out where my parents are,” Emma said. “Maybe the captain can help.”

  “Let’s ask around at breakfast,” Herbie said.

  In the dining hall, which was nearly empty, they sat at a table. A monkey came out of the kitchen and brought them food. They had barely downed two biscuits and a glass of juice each before Santher and Laika arrived to take them to their post in the aerie. Apparently, they were late.

  “First I want to talk to the captain,” Emma said.

  “You can’t,” Laika replied. “Unless it’s an emergency.”

  “I need some help finding my parents,” Emma said.

  Laika and Santher exchanged a look. “Maybe later,” Laika said. “Right now you have to work.”

  Reluctantly, Emma and Herbie followed the others through the ship’s carpeted corridors and up two flights of stairs to the top deck. They crossed the deck and stopped at the mainmast. Herbie looked like he was getting a bit seasick. “Errr…what exactly is the aerie?” he asked.

  “It’s the top of the main,” Santher said, pointing upward. A cold, harsh wind lashed at their faces as Emma and Herbie stared up and up, considering their fate. The mainmast was as thick around as a dozen oak trees tied together. There were Arghs up there already, but they were far enough away that it was impossible to tell if they were humans or monkeys. And the wind, although certainly not stormy, had an abrupt, whipping quality that seemed more deadly by the moment.

  “I can’t go with you,” Santher said. “I have to be on the bridge. But Laika will show you the ropes.”

  Surprised, Emma watched as he sauntered off. He turned once and winked at her over his shoulder.

  “He really is cocky,” Herbie said, frowning.

  Laika didn’t explain anything, and the look on her face suggested that she was still brooding over their conversation at dinner. She took hold of the ropes and began climbing.

  “Uh…” Herbie cleared his throat. “Wait, we’re actually climbing to the crow’s nest?”

  “Don’t say that!” Laika said. “We never call it that. It’s the aerie.”

  “Why don’t you call it a crow’s—?” Herbie asked.

  “Crow is a dirty word around here,” she said. “Corvans, ye see. They’re from the Crow system and they’re the ones who kidnap kids. Now hurry up.”

  Emma saw that Herbie was terrifically nervous. The one time they’d gone walking on the Golden Gate Bridge, he’d gotten queasy and had muttered something about being afraid of heights.

  “Are you okay with this?” she asked.

  “I can handle it,” he said, setting his chin in a determined way.

  Emma went first, grabbing the rope and stepping onto the ratline. It whipped in the wind, and she felt her whole body whip along with it. Although the ropes were wet, they weren’t too slippery and she found that climbing was easier than she’d thought. When she’d gone ten notches, she felt a slight yank and saw Herbie begin his ascent
below.

  She continued easily. Every ten feet or so, she stopped to check on Herbie’s progress. He kept pausing to wipe his hands on his pants, but otherwise he seemed to be doing all right.

  It took ten more minutes to reach the wooden platform where the ratline ended, and when she crawled up into the small circular space, she was grateful for the break. Her arms were sore and she was breathing hard.

  Looking around, she got a thrill. The storm clouds were behind them now, and the vast Strand spread before them, its dark-blue waters churning with foamy waves. The air was salty and fresh, and an exhilarating feeling swept through her.

  When Herbie came over the side, she helped him up. He looked pale and shaken.

  “Pretty good for someone who’s afraid of heights,” Emma said.

  Herbie gave a wan smile.

  Laika opened a small door in the side of the mast, revealing a circular staircase inside. “This way,” she said brusquely.

  They followed her up a narrow passageway that smelled of wet wood and ocean and the musty odor of a birdcage. At the top was another door. They opened it and went inside.

  The aerie was a spacious, circular room built around the mast. There were twelve wooden perches, six of which held eagles and hawks. Behind each perch was a window with shutters to keep out the fierce winds.

  “Cool,” Herbie said, shutting the door behind him. “Are those eagles?”

  Laika didn’t reply, so the three of them stood staring at one another. She didn’t seem interested in putting them to work. Instead, there was a new fierceness in her eyes.

  “I think you owe us an explanation,” she said. “The navy’s after you, and you could be endangering the whole crew.”

  “Okaaaay,” Emma said. She could understand that she might be putting the Arghs in danger, but the Argh itself seemed big enough to handle any foes. “Look, I’m sorry we don’t know anything about pirates. I wish we could help you but—”

  “Everyone knows you’re lying about why the navy’s after you,” Laika said.

  Herbie opened his mouth to answer, but Emma kicked his foot. “Like I said before, I’m looking for my parents. They were kidnapped on the Monkey system and probably brought to space. I’m trying to find them.”