“Hal!” I said, rising to my feet. “You can’t be sure of this!”
“Of course I am. She’s cozier with those rascals than she lets on.” He began pulling Nadira toward the door. “You’re coming with me. If you won’t tell us where it is, we’ll search your room and everything you brought aboard.”
“This can’t be right, Hal!” I said.
“Get out of the way,” he said, pushing me to one side as he marched Nadira out of the room.
I stood there in the lounge, frozen. A part of me knew that Hal might be right. I’d trusted Nadira on a gut feeling, but we knew very little about her. She obviously had secrets, and maybe some of the darker kind. In league with pirates? It seemed far too nefarious. But who else could have brought the homing beacon aboard the Sagarmatha?
They’d been inside my room.
Back in Paris, standing in the Academy quadrangle, I had seen something shift behind my window. It had not been my imagination.
I ran out of the lounge, down the passageway, and threw open the door to my cabin. I dragged my duffel bag out from beneath the bunk and loosed the drawstrings. Dumping all the contents onto the floor, I handled everything, opening the books, patting clothing for suspicious bumps.
I lifted the duffel bag to see if I’d missed anything, but it was empty. Still, it felt heavy. And I remembered how oddly heavy it had seemed when I’d first hefted it over my back in Paris. Feeling sick, I took my jackknife and slit the padded bottom. When I pushed my hand between the layers of fabric, I felt some kind of thin metal lozenge. I yanked it out. Despite its smallish size, it was weighty in my hands. From one end sprouted a long, whip-thin antenna whose end was still somewhere in the bag. I tugged out more, and more, and more still, for it was very long and ingeniously woven into the lining of my duffel bag, making it one enormous transmitter, and giving its infernal signal enough power to travel miles through the sky. The antenna’s tail end was snagged deep in the fabric, and I could not wrench it free, so I left the whole lot on the floor. I ran out of my room and down the passageway.
I burst into Nadira’s cabin. Hal and Jangbu were in the midst of ransacking her backpack.
“What’s this then?” said Hal, holding a thin silver case aloft.
“Give it back!” Nadira said. “That’s personal.”
“I’m sure it is,” he snorted.
“Hal, wait,” I said.
Hal opened the case. It was a hinged picture frame, and I glimpsed a photo of a man and a woman, elaborately dressed in wedding finery.
“I found it,” I told Hal. “The transmitter. It was in my bag.”
“You’re sure?”
Nadira tried to snatch her picture frame back from Hal, but in her haste she knocked it to the floor. I quickly bent down to pick it up for her. My eyes settled once again on the photograph. The woman was unmistakably Nadira’s mother, and in the moment before the case was yanked from my hand, I recognized the man. Nadira’s father. It was Vikram Szpirglas.
THE BOTTOM OF THE WORLD
“You can’t keep her locked up,” I said to Hal.
“I don’t want her sneaking about my ship. She could get to the wireless room and radio our position. She could tamper with our engines. She stays in there till we return to Paris.”
“Here, here!” chimed in Miss Simpkins.
We were back in the lounge, all of us except Nadira. Kate looked paler than usual but no longer green. At the table, Jangbu Sherpa was busy with his tools, trying to open the brass casing of the transmitter. It had no screw holes, nor any seam, nor hinge I could discern.
“The transmitter was in my bag, not hers,” I said. “Doesn’t that prove she’s got nothing to do with Rath? Or else why wasn’t she carrying it herself?”
“She may not be working with Rath, but she’s already deceived us, and I don’t mean to be deceived again.”
“She knew if she told us about Szpirglas you wouldn’t let her aboard.”
“With good reason. If Szpirglas gave her that key, others might know about it. Who’s to say she hasn’t made her own murky alliances? We’re less than a day away from the Hyperion. We find her and Nadira might have a crew of rascals ready to snatch the ship from us. For all I know she’s already radioed them the coordinates.”
“You’re assuming the very worst about her,” I said. “What about the rest of us? Why not lock me up? It was in my bag!”
“It did occur to me.”
“And just to be safe,” I added, “better lock up Kate and Miss Simpkins, too. We might all be in it together.”
“I resent that!” Miss Simpkins protested.
“I’m just trying to be fair,” I said.
“You’re very outspoken in her defense,” Kate said, staring hard at me. My heart sank. Of all the people at the table, I’d expected her at least to be my ally. I knew she held no prejudices against gypsies, but right now I could not fathom her.
“Let us not forget Nadira is the daughter of a notorious pirate,” Miss Simpkins said.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Don’t be naïve, Cruse,” said Hal.
“It indicates very poor breeding,” Miss Simpkins informed me primly.
“We are not dogs or horses,” I insisted hotly. “None of us gets to choose how we’re born, it’s what we make of ourselves afterward.”
Hal looked thoroughly unimpressed. I glanced at Kate. She turned her eyes away from me and I felt as though I’d been slapped.
“She’s a pirate’s daughter,” Hal said. “She’s had ample opportunity to be influenced, corrupted, and ensnared in all sorts of nasty enterprises.”
“But we have no proof she’s engaged in anything unsavory,” I insisted.
“Matt’s right,” Kate said.
I looked at her, grateful, but her gaze was on Hal.
“I think she just wants her fair share of the Hyperion’s cargo,” Kate went on. “She means to start a better life for herself. I like her.”
“You do?” I said, surprised.
“Very much. She’s got good spirit.”
“You killed her father,” Hal said to me. “If I were you, I’d wonder if she had a knife destined for my throat.”
Nadira had climbed the crow’s nest early this morning to see me. If she’d wanted, she easily could have slit my throat. I’d been completely unsuspecting. Instead, she had kissed me. The daughter of the man who’d tried to end my life. I made my brain go over it one more time, just to make sure I understood. I had kissed Vikram Szpirglas’s daughter.
“I don’t think she means to kill me,” I said.
“Unlikely,” Kate agreed.
I remembered how intently Nadira had questioned me about my so-called duel to the finish with Szpirglas. She’d wanted to know every detail, every thrust and parry. Maybe, once I’d admitted Szpirglas had not died by my hand, whatever anger she’d felt for me had evaporated.
There was a sharp crack, as Jangbu succeeded in splitting the brass case apart. Inside was the smallest transmitter I’d ever seen. An ingenious thing it was, each tiny part nestled against the other, wasting no space.
“Shall I cut off the power?” Jangbu asked, pointing his chisel at the battery.
“No, not yet,” said Hal. He thought for a moment. “We’re going to change course, nothing too drastic. I don’t want them suspicious. There’s no moon tonight. We’ll douse our running lights, just in case they’re closer than I think. Then we’ll kill the transmitter. They’ll lose our signal. After that we resume our original course and part company for good. Go tell Dorje, please.”
After Jangbu left the room, Hal looked distastefully at the transmitter and its ungainly tangle of antenna.
“It’s an expensive little toy, and it makes me wonder what other clever gadgets they have. They’ve got a fast ship too, if they followed us all the way from Paris. A high flyer possibly. These fellows have money. I’d like to know where they got it.”
“What about that o
ld gentleman Rath was talking to in the heliodrome?” I suggested.
A few days ago, I’d shown Hal the photograph of George Barton in the newspaper. Like Kate, he hadn’t been convinced Rath would have any dealings with the Aruba Consortium.
“You said Nadira wasn’t even sure it was the same man.”
“No, but they’ve got the money to kit Rath out with fancy electrics and ships.”
Hal considered for a moment, then shook his head. “I can’t see the Consortium hiring pirates for a treasure hunt. They’ve got enough liquid gold in the ground to keep them happy.”
He got up to leave.
“What about Nadira?” I said. “You’ve got to unlock her.”
“It’s simply not fair,” Kate insisted.
Hal hesitated, then nodded.
“You two keep an eye on her then,” he said. “And Cruse, watch your back. Gypsies have fiery hearts in my experience, and they’ve got a healthy appetite for vengeance. Just remember, if she does kill you, I get your share of the loot.”
Hal left for the control car to oversee our change of course, and must have unlocked Nadira’s cabin on the way, for a few minutes later, she walked into the lounge.
“Hello,” said Kate cheerily, as if nothing had happened.
Nadira walked over to the glass of port wine that Hal had poured for her earlier. She picked it up and downed it. We all watched in silence, Miss Simpkins peeping over the top of her novel. Nadira smacked her empty glass down onto the counter, put her hands on her hips, and glowered at us.
“You scurvy dogs better watch your step around me, or I’ll singe your guts with me pistol.”
For a few seconds no one spoke. Then Nadira grinned, and Kate and I started laughing.
“How very vulgar!” murmured Miss Simpkins and went back to reading.
“Better get used to it,” said Nadira. “Now that I’m Szpirglas’s daughter, I’ll be talking like this all the time.”
“I expect a great deal of cussing,” I said.
“Did he cuss much?”
“No, not at all, really.”
She nodded. “I understand I have you both to thank for my liberation.”
“It was Kate actually,” I told her. “She made a stirring speech. Hal was moved to tears.”
Nadira raised an eyebrow. “He said he’d heave me overboard if he caught me sneaking about.”
“He’s just a bit tense,” I said.
She gave a sniff and sat down. I tried to superimpose Szpirglas upon her, but could see no similarities. The shape of the eyes, the mouth, the hands were all different. Still, now that I knew who her father was, his name whispered insistently through my mind, and I felt his presence heavily in the room.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “about your father.”
“It’s not your fault. He chose a very wicked life for himself.”
“He certainly did,” said Miss Simpkins, muffled behind her novel.
“I don’t think he ever set out to be a murderer.” I wanted to make Nadira feel better. “He was a thief, and he killed people if they got in his way. But he told me he didn’t like doing it.”
“And then he tried to kill you,” Nadira said.
“Well, yes.”
“Not much of a virtue,” she remarked.
“Everyone has some good in them,” Kate said kindly.
“Yes, certainly,” I said. I thought about how Szpirglas had held his son, and told him stories. I would have liked to share this with her, but I did not want to cause her more pain. Likely she did not know her father had other wives and other children.
“He wasn’t a bad father,” Nadira said after a moment, “the little he was around.”
“You said he taught you your numbers.”
“And how to read. My mother’s people couldn’t. They didn’t see the need. But he said it was important. He said there was a whole world in books. I’m grateful to him for that.”
“After he left, did he ever come to visit you?” Kate asked.
“No. Even if he’d wanted to, my mother’s family would have lynched him. Partly I blame them for driving him away in the first place. They were not welcoming.”
“Lynching does tend to discourage people,” Kate said, and won a smile from Nadira.
“My mother said he had other wives. Other children too maybe.”
I kept quiet. So did Kate.
“Oh, he had a son,” Miss Simpkins piped up. “That boy, what was his name? You know, Kate.”
Kate gave her chaperone a withering stare. “Theodore,” she said quietly.
For a moment Nadira was silent. “Where was this?” she finally asked.
“In the Pacificus. On his island hideout,” I told her. “The boy’s in an orphanage now. The Sky Guard wouldn’t tell me where.”
“How old was he?”
“He’d be six now.”
She nodded, her face smooth and unreadable.
“I’d wager he’s not the only half-sibling you have,” said Miss Simpkins.
Nadira ignored her. “And the boy’s mother?”
“Szpirglas said she’d died,” I told her.
“A short life as a pirate’s wife,” murmured Miss Simpkins. She laughed at her own rhyme, and then had a fit of coughing.
“Marjorie,” said Kate, “that cough of yours sounds wretched. Perhaps you should go to bed and sleep for a long, long time.”
“I am rather tired, you know. This thin air.”
“Go ahead. I promise not to wake you when I come in later.”
“Very well. Don’t stay up too late.”
We all watched Miss Simpkins leave the room.
“That was nicely done,” I said when she was out of earshot.
“She’s really quite a masterpiece, isn’t she?” Kate said. “One day Madame Tussaud’s will make a wax dummy of her.”
“In the Chamber of Horrors,” I added.
Kate laughed, and I smiled at her, realizing how much I’d missed her. She started to smile back, but then her eyes cooled, and this sudden connection between us crumbled like a cobweb bridge.
We talked on a bit, the three of us, but I sensed we were ill at ease with one another. I felt the Saga turn, and knew Hal was taking us on his trickster’s course to throw off our pursuers. It wasn’t long before we all started yawning and saying we should get some sleep.
We made our way to our separate cabins, and for a few moments it was just Kate and me alone in the corridor. I wanted to say something. She was being so chilly with me. Maybe she hadn’t liked the way Nadira had sat with me at dinner, or maybe—and my stomach gave a nasty squeeze—she really had seen us kissing in the crow’s nest. I wanted to apologize, but I dared not mention it, for what if she hadn’t seen, and I was just opening up a Pandora’s box of trouble?
“Are you angry with me?” I asked her.
“Why on earth would I be angry with you?” she said, looking at me strangely.
She seemed all surprise, so I assumed she couldn’t know about the kiss. Kate would not lie; she was too terrifyingly straightforward. I should have been relieved, but only felt a keen disappointment. She was not angry with me. There could be only one explanation for her behavior.
We stood in the corridor, facing each other. I wanted to ask her then and there if she preferred Hal to me. But I would not. I would not ask for reassurance, like a street urchin begging coins from the pretty rich lady.
“Oh,” I said. “I just thought you seemed a bit vexed with me.”
“Not at all,” she said.
“No vexation whatsoever? Not even a little bit?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“You’re sure?”
She gave me the politest of smiles. “I’m just tired. Good night.”
“Good night, then.”
Inside my cabin, I washed my face in the basin. I could not remember a more ghastly conversation in my life. I beheld myself in the little mirror, wondering when I would see a man.
&nbs
p; All the lights went out suddenly, and I knew that Hal had thrown a cloak of darkness over the Sagarmatha. Now, under cover of night, he’d be smashing the transmitter to pieces. Our pursuers would lose the homing signal, and be left with nothing but our phantom wake.
As I settled under my blankets a few minutes later I heard the drone of the ship’s six powerful engines increase in pitch. I felt the Saga bank swiftly as Hal took us back to our true course.
I wished I knew my own true course.
Next morning Hal posted extra lookouts. He wanted no chance of the Hyperion slipping by undetected now that we were nearing our rendezvous mark. In the control car, Hal and Dorje scanned the skies directly ahead. Kami, who was walking again, though slowly, was stationed on the starboard side of the bridge; I was on the port. You could not have asked for more favorable weather. The sky was completely clear. From our altitude of twenty thousand feet, you could see all the way to the white shores of Antarctica.
It was a great relief to me that there was no sign of Rath’s ship. Hal’s ploy had obviously worked, and they were likely hundreds of miles off course by now.
But there was no sign of the Hyperion either.
As each minute ticked by, the tension in the control car coiled more tightly. With increasing regularity, Hal would seize the speaking tube and demand a report from Ang Jeta in the crow’s nest.
“Nothing fore or aft,” came the reply once more.
Two hours after we’d overshot the mark, Hal turned to me and said, “Cruse, those coordinates you gave us, you’re sure of them?”
“I wouldn’t forget those numbers.”
“You’ve been having trouble with your numbers at school though, eh?”
“That’s different,” I said indignantly.
“Then where the hell’s our ship?”
Hal let his eyes rest on me longer than was pleasant, but I held his gaze, refusing to be rebuked.
“My calculations may be at fault,” Dorje said quietly.
“Dorje, you’ve never been wrong in your life,” said Hal.
“I want to check again. Hold our course for now.”
Dorje went back to the navigation room, and I heard the sound of his ingenious charts being taken out and unfurled on the table.