“A most serious one.” Shremaza considered the high walls that enclosed the complex of strange golden buildings. “Do you think, husband, that either this canyon or the one to which it leads runs all the way through to the Northern Plains?”
“I don’t know, but we know of another which does so. Where one cuts through, it’s certainly possible for another to do the same. If I can reach Treetown in time, it should be possible for a rescue team to intercept these humans before they can reach their vessel.” Tenderly he wrapped his long neck twice around that of his mate, first from the right side, then from the left. Beaks rubbed gently against one another.
“I will be looking for you between the land and the sea, in that place where love waits. Children, abide by your mother’s words. Translator, do your work well. Farewell.” Turning, he broke into a run and had soon disappeared into the depths of the side canyon.
Shremaza called softly after him. “Go like the wind, husband. Breathe deep, and may only your shadow touch the ground.”
Chaz knew the male Strutbiomimus was risking his life for Will. But Will had done the same for them. “Much as I’d like to, we shouldn’t stay here all night. One of their guards might wander over this way. I think we should go back and sleep in the main canyon. There’s no reason for them to explore that far. Not at night.”
“I concur.” Shremaza gathered her brood around her. “We could all use a good night’s rest.”
“How can such strange humans be?” Keelk strained for a glimpse of the human encampment as her mother led her away from the wall.
“I don’t know.” Chaz was planning for the morning. “Will says that in the outside world humans fight over pieces of rock and metal. It’s all very bizarre and incomprehensible.” “Don’t they have enough to eat, or a place to sleep?” wondered Arimat.
“Not all of them do, but according to Will that has little to do with it. I don’t pretend to understand. I’m only a translator.”
the following morning the underside of the cloud cover was ominously darker, as if it had been tanned by rain. Will doubted it would do any good to point this out to his captors. Blackstrap had already told him that neither he nor his crew was about to be intimidated by inclement weather, and after what Will had seen and heard die previous night he had no reason to doubt the captain’s word.
Having never experienced the full force of a major six-year storm, he didn’t know if a ship lying at anchor in the northern lagoon could survive one. If it did, he had no doubt that Blackstrap would make good on his promise to find or fashion a route back to the open sea. If that happened, Will knew he’d jump overboard rather than abandon Dinotopia. He shrugged his shoulders, in his mind’s eye already seeing himself swimming hard for shore. Could a young tyrannosaur swim? They might have the chance to find out.
One of the pirates brought him breakfast, a noxious medley of water, corn, bully beef, and salt pork all cooked together, with hardtack on the side. It was a long way from the fresh fruits, vegetables, and fish of Treetown. Knowing it was important for him to keep his strength up, he forced himself to chew and swallow the gruel. Prettykill looked on without comment. Tyrannosaurs could go a long time without eating.
She was not his only company. The two guards on duty squatted together nearby, slurping their rations as if they were gourmet delicacies. A glance showed none of the other members of the crew, including Blackstrap, was within hearing range.
“I don’t know what kind of life you’ve been living,” Will began conversationally, “but Dinotopia offers a chance to start over.”
Copperhead elbowed his companion. “Hear the boy. Next he’ll be telling us this is the earthly paradise.”
“Aye, paradise,” snorted Thomas. “Only with dragons. No, what did Mr. Smiggens, call them? Dinosaurs. Yes, paradise with dinosaurs that try to eat you.”
“That’s only back in the Rainy Basin,” Will told him. “All the big carnosaurs are confined there. The rest of Dinotopia is pretty safe. You can’t imagine how beautiful it is. The constant lullaby of Waterfall City, the classical glories of Sauropolis, the rural loveliness of Treetown and Cornucopia, the quiet coves and beaches, the rolling farmland and the lush orchards.” “Hoy, that’s paradise, all right,” Copperhead snickered. “Sounds like a bloody lot o’ work to me.” Thomas shared his friend’s amusement.
Will hesitated, wooden spoon halfway to his mouth. “Isn’t piracy work, and dangerous work at that? At least on a farm or fishing on a river or working in a shop, nobody’s trying to kill you.”
Copperhead’s smile frayed. “Put me in jail for stealing a loaf of bread, they did. To help feed my sister’s family. After that things just got worse somehow, till I ended up on the
Condor.”
“I worked in the cane fields all my life. Be there still if not for Captain Blackstrap.” Thomas pushed out his lower lip belligerently.
“He can stay, too,” Will assured them. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the outside world. Everyone who’s cast up here starts life anew. It doesn’t matter who or what you were in your previous existence. It’s a chance to really begin over.” “Doesn’t matter.” Copperhead waved his spoon. “If the authorities find us here, we’ll still hang.”
“I don’t know how you managed to survive landfall with your vessel intact. Yours may be the first ship to do so in the entire history of Dinotopia. I do know that it had to have been a freak occurrence and isn’t likely to be repeated, even if a warship somehow managed to find us. I also know that no matter what Captain Blackstrap says, clearing the lagoon with your hull in one piece is going to be a lot harder than it was coming in. The winds and currents that surround Dinotopia tear ships to pieces.”
“That’s true enough,” muttered a thoughtful Thomas. “We saw many wrecks coming in.”
“Everyone who’s shipwrecked automatically becomes a citizen of Dinotopia. Sure there are problems, but it’s nothing like in America or Europe. Even the big meat-eaters aren’t really a concern since they’re confined to the Rainy Basin. All the other dinosaurs work side by side with humans.”
“Like the ones you set free,” Thomas reminded him darkly. Will didn’t back down. “Yes. Like them. You’ll see, they’re a lot like us. Bigger or smaller, they’re just people. We’re all just people working together here, citizens of Dinotopia. You can be, too.”
“I ain’t sure I’d like working alongside folks from everywhere else,” declared Copperhead. “Chin-lee, now, he’s okay, but a whole town full of Chinee, well, I don’t know about that.”
Will smiled reassuringly. “Believe me, the first time you find yourself taking mail from a Gallimimus or plowing behind a Triceratops or participating in field games with a couple of ankylosaurs, you’ll wonder why you ever looked sideways at different-colored skin or eyes shaped otherwise than yours.” Will shook his head ruefully. “What happens when you’re too old to run anymore? Assuming you live long enough to get old.”
“Why, then,” Copperhead replied, “at least we’ll know that we lived!”
“You can do that here. There are more exciting things to do in Dinotopia than I can begin to mention. Think of it! Your pasts will be as if they’d never been.” He concentrated on Copperhead, trying to hold his interest. “You say you were arrested for stealing a loaf of bread. No one here will know about that or care. Or care about anything you’ve done since.” He shifted his gaze to Thomas. “The same holds true for you. Both of*you can start new families here.”
For the first time Thomas showed a flicker of real interest. “There are women here?”
“Women from every part of the world, from every civilization.” He couldn’t keep from thinking of Sylvia. “Relationships here are open to all.” He hoped he was handling the subject properly. It was one he still knew very little about.
“Each of you could start a family, become responsible members of a unique community. Can you say that opportunity is open to you anywhere else in the world?” He lowered
his tone pleadingly. “Is your present life, then, such a satisfying one that it won’t even let you contemplate another?” Copperhead looked troubled. “Well ... I have to confess there are times when I’m not sleeping belowdecks, just lying in my hammock watching the overhead, when the ship’s tossing in a heavy swell and everything’s all wet and damp, when I think it’d be nice to be lying in a warm, dry, real bed some-wheres, not wondering if a shell from a warship’s going to come flying through to take off my legs.”
“That’s very so,” agreed Thomas. “I come from the islands, where everyone still talks about Mr. Henry Morgan and his ilk. It’s not like it was in his day. Pirating is a difficult business now. This is the nineteenth century, after all.”
Copperhead abruptly snapped back from the idyll he’d been visiting. “What are we blathering on about? There’s nothing we can do about our situation. What are we supposed to do, walk up to Captain Blackstrap and tell him we want to desert? Stand on the beach and wave good-bye with lace hankies?”
Thomas nodded knowingly. “He would have us strung up as mutineers and violators of the Condor’s compact. A new life’s no good to a man whose neck has been stretched.” The Jamaican stared evenly back at Will. “Forget it, boy. The life of a settled landsman’s not for us. We’ve cast our lot with Blackstrap, and that is the way things are.”
“But the authorities here would offer you protection,” Will explained.
Copperhead’s inner torment was written clearly on his face. “No more of this, boy. Let us have no more of this!” He dropped his hand to his rifle.
The gesture didn’t alarm Will. He knew they didn’t dare touch him without word from the captain. But he subsided. He’d planted the seed and seen it take root. Both men were pondering a life outside piracy. He hoped they would mention what he’d said to some of their companions. If he could get a significant portion of the crew to contemplate jumping ship, they might gather enough courage between them to defy Blackstrap.
After their morning meal, the men began gathering their gear to move out. Pockets bulging with gems pried from walls and sculptures, packs heavy with gold bricks, they headed not for the main canyon but the doors of the central temple.
“The captain’s not a man to depart without looking into everything,” Smiggens remarked in response to Will’s query.
Once again the magnificent rose quartz doors yielded to the pirates’ touch and they found themselves striding down the exquisitely decorated hallway. Will marveled at the sculptures and wall carvings, the bas-reliefs and mosaics. What Nallab wouldn’t give to see this place! he thought wonderingly.
The hall split. Led by Smiggens, the pirates chose the left-hand passage, which led toward the center of the structure. Clear quartz portals admitted light, which bounced back in a thousand colors from the semiprecious gems that had been used to decorate the walls. The craftsmanship was as fine as anything Will had seen anywhere on Dinotopia. Who had built this place, and why? So intriguing did he find it that he was almost able to forget that he was a prisoner. Behind him, PrettykilPs occasional grunts reminded him.
The pirates advanced in uncharacteristic silence, awed by the magnificence surrounding them. By the time they encountered a pair of solid, intricately carved amethyst doors, they had long since exhausted their limited store of superlatives.
Johanssen pushed experimentally on one, and it surprised him to see it swing silently aside. The immensely heavy doors were perfectly balanced on stone pivots.
Stepping through, they found themselves in a circular room with a ceiling over a hundred feet high. It was more of an atrium, really. Lush plants hauled from the Rainy Basin thrust their leaves toward the distant skylight. Six feet across, it had been cut from a Single piece of yellow diamond.
The curving golden walls were teeming with mosaics. Most depicted ancient Cambrian sea life. Will admired a Halludno-genia rendered in agates even though he had no idea what it was. Judging from the design of the creature, nature hadn’t been too sure, either.
Scattered about the chamber were several pieces of handmade wooden furniture, the wood stark and yet somehow inviting amid all the gold and jewels. Against the far wall stood a short, round nest-bed woven from cane and packed with palm leaves. On the bed was an occupant.
“Is it dead?” Samuel whispered as the men crowded into the room.
“A mummy,” swore O’Connor. “Sure, and it is, I’ve seen them in the British museum.”
The motionless figure was draped in the robes of an ascetic, one who had chosen a life of solitude and contemplation. Legs crossed before him, tail stretched out behind, head drooping on his breast, the room’s sole inhabitant did not appear to be breathing. Will noted the huge claws on the forearms, intricately entwined with one another. The whole posture was suggestive of contentment and a deep inner peace. Though large for one of its kind, when erect it would stand no taller than Chin-lee.
Even Blackstrap was taken with the solemnity of the scene. “Here, now, lad, what manner of dragon be that?”
“A Deinonycbus. They’re very dexterous and are often employed as scribes. I can’t imagine what one’s doing here.” “Look at those claws on its hands and feet,” Watford commented. “See the big middle toe. Like a bloody scythe, it is.” “Teeth, too,” murmured Andreas. “That’s no plant-eater.” “The Deinonychuses are very fond of shellfish,” Will informed them.
“So well preserved.” Smiggens advanced on the figure. “Perhaps it died only recently. Denison?”
Grateful to have someone call him by name, Will professed his opinion. “He’s wearing the robes of an ascetic. He came here seeking peace.”
“Bloody well found it, I’d say.” O’Connor was examining the exquisitely decorated walls.
“Avast there! ” someone screeched suddenly.
The diminutive figure was moving.
It sounded like an invasion of crickets as rifles and pistols were hastily unlimbered and made ready. Slowly the Deinony-chus’s head came up. Eyes opened to regard them with indisputable awareness. The crossed legs and entwined hands did not move.
“Well,” it remarked in perfect, if heavily accented English, “it has been a long time since I had visitors.”
“Beggorah,” exclaimed O’Connor, “the little dragon speaks!”
“I told you,” Will insisted to any who would listen, “I told you.” What he didn’t add was that this was the first dinosaur besides a Protoceratops that he’d ever heard speak a human language. And not just the Latin-derived Human of Dinotopia, but English! Here was a very learned dinosaur indeed.
“Mark that burr in its voice,” Watford was muttering. “Sounds like a blooming Glaswegean, it does.”
Blackstrap’s thoughts were racing down other paths. “Har, now, this could be useful, it could.” He advanced on the nest-bed, towering over the squatting Deinonycbus. “You live here?”
“It is my choice, yes.” The ascetic shifted his position ever so slightly. “I am Tarqua.”
Smiggens contemplated the incredible shaft overhead. “Must get pretty lonely.”
The Deinonychus turned its toothy snout toward the first mate. “There is no loneliness where there is cogitation.” “Oho!” Blackstrap grinned. “Now, what have we here? A philosopher?”
Will stepped forward. “Tell me, meditative one, what do you do here?” He was pretty sure he knew, but he wanted the Deinonychus to get a good look at his ropes.
Tarqua took note of them immediately. “You are bound.” His alert gaze traveled past Will to fasten on Prettykill. “And there is a young rex among you who is similarly restrained. What curious manner of journey is this?”
Blackstrap idly fingered the hilt of his cutlass. “Go on, lad. Might as well tell him.”
Will explained the situation. The Deinonychus listened in silence, then sighed. “It is a sad thing to import such habits from the outside world.”
“We ain’t interested in your opinion.” Blackstrap leaned forward menacingly.
“The boy asked you what you did here.”
A slitted pupil focused on the captain. “I contemplate the great mysteries. For this I find silence and solitude conducive.” “Silence and solitude, is it?” Blackstrap backed off to indicate the surrounding gem-encrusted walls. “Looks more to me like you’re contemplating treasure.”
“Treasure?” Tarqua blinked. “There is no treasure here save in the colors and the silence. But I understand whereof you speak. I have read much history, and I know that in the outside world humans have an inexplicable hunger for the tears of the earth. They are blinded by them, and so only rarely see and understand their true beauty.”
“We finally find one of the boy’s intelligent dinosaurs,” Smiggens mused aloud, “and it talks in riddles.”
“No matter.” Blackstrap was once more relaxed and at ease. “He can sit on his rump and contemplate the silence all he wants. We’ll leave him to it.” An unpleasant grin crossed his face as he pointed to a mosaic depicting a swarm of
Orthoceras swimming through a sapphire sea. The most prominently depicted had one very large red eye.
“Except for that there big ruby. Before we leave I’ll have that for my purse, I will.” Removing a wicked-looking knife from his belt, he took a step toward the wall.
The Deinonycbus was instantly out of his crouch to confront the captain. “Do not touch that.”
Blackstrap paused. “Oh? And why not? I thought you didn’t care anything for treasure.”
“I spoke the truth. But as my name is Tarqua, I will not allow the integrity of the inner temple to be violated. You cannot disturb anything in this room.”
“Be that so, now?” Blackstrap’s fingers tightened on the haft of the knife.
Smiggens was eyeing the Deinonycbus impressive assortment of talons and claws. “Captain, we have ample booty. Maybe it would be better if—”
“Hold your tongue, Smiggens. Mr. Philosopher here and I are discussing matters of some importance.”
The first mate bit down on his reply.