Charles just gave an expressive shrug in answer. “Whatever the reason, people have used the Barn to store things they don’t want to lose. Not just Gerard, others before him, maybe even going back to when the aliens were around.” He walked to a long table. “Here’s the stuff Gerard brought back, but you can look at the rest as well. Somebody must have put it here for a reason.”
“I know why this wasn’t thrown away.” Jorge held up a small statue. “Look at it. Gold.” He moved to another object. “And this. What do you think it’s worth?”
“Here?” Charles laughed. “Slightly less than freshly caught fish, which we have a use for. You can’t even put the statue in your room to make it look pretty. I don’t think the caretakers understand the concept of ‘priceless art object.’”
Jorge sighed. “Of course, you’re right. But I know why somebody collected all these things. They had not given up hope of leaving Atlantis, and they wanted to go home a rich man. Some days I come here, just to share the dream.” He put his hand on Piracola’s shoulder. “But whoever made the collection, he was not like my friend here. I’m still not sure he understands about money.”
“And no doubt he’s all the happier for it,” Charles said.
Catalina joined him at the table. Most of the surface was covered with engraved tables, scrolls, pamphlets, sheets of paper, and even stacks of books. Texts Gerard had collected, risking his life, in the hope of meeting someone who could read it—someone like her.
“What was Gerard like?”
“I don’t know. Babs and I arrived six years ago, long after he went missing. Floyd has been here second longest, but even he never met Gerard.”
Laughter and the clash of metal rang out. Jorge and Piracola had found shields, swords, and helmets and were playing like boys. Catalina watched their antics. They were two attractive, friendly young men. They would not be her parents’ choice of a husband for her, but her parents’ choices had all suffered from singular misfortune and were no longer relevant.
Madison had been so casual in talk of taking a lover. However, neither man interested Catalina in the slightest. They were wasting their time with her. She caught her lip in her teeth. Might they stand a better chance with Sam? And why was that thought so unpleasant? Hurriedly, Catalina picked the nearest sheet of paper. The large handwritten words were underlined twice.
“What does it say?” Charles was clearly trying to sound calm, but could not disguise his eagerness.
Catalina studied the words. It was not the classical Greek she had been taught, but simple enough to understand. “Something along the lines of, Whoever has borrowed my mixing bowl, can they return it immediately.”
Chapter Six
The canal might have passed for a natural river, if its sides were not so straight. Trees and shrubs overhung both banks, and trailing vines hid the stonework behind coils of green. In places, roots had broken through the walls, allowing earth and rocks to cascade into the water.
The series of bridges spanning the canal were also in poor repair. Sam looked up as the Inflatable passed beneath one. Daylight peeked through a large crack. “I take it caretakers don’t visit the outer island.”
“I’ve not seen any, just those wretched hunters,” Horatio said. “And I’d be jolly happy if I never saw them again, I can tell you.”
He and Sam were on the foremost seat, watching the banks slide by. The bow of the Inflatable was noticeably deeper in the water than on her previous trip. At the stern, Alonzo was as far from her as possible. He sat next to Torvold, who was in charge of the outboard motor, as it was called. Torvold was in good spirits and launched into what was, presumably, yet another Viking rowing song.
Horatio smiled at him. “The poor chap is going to be heartbroken when the gas runs out.”
“Which gas?”
“The fuel the motor burns. To be honest, I’ve no idea why they call it gas. It’s really a type of oil.”
“Where does it come from?”
“What we’re using now came from Babs and Charles. Floyd and his comrades had brought the Inflatable, but their supply ran out ages before I arrived. People were rowing between the islands, and the Inflatable was in dry dock, so to speak. Well, it was in the Barn. Have you been there yet? You should visit. Amazing place. Anyway, six years back, Babs turned up in her seaplane. It had enough gas to take her and Charles…” He frowned. “A jolly long way. Not sure how far, but getting to Atlantis hadn’t made a dent in the tank. It was Liz who thought of trying the seaplane gas in the Inflatable. Floyd says it runs a bit hot, but that might be due to it needing a service.” The frown deepened. “I’m not quite sure what he means by that.”
“Not a religious service.”
“No. Probably not.”
“Babs and Charles didn’t mind giving up their fuel?”
“We share whatever we have, and they’ve got no use for it. Besides, otherwise they’d have to take their turn rowing. It was no fun, I can tell you, what with the wretched fish nibbling the paddles. We still have plenty of gas left. The pinch will come when there’s just enough to get the Okeechobee Dawn back to the mainland. It’s still our best hope of escape.”
“Babs has promised to show me it when we get back. It’s hard to imagine a machine that can fly.”
“I know, and I saw it land. Amazing. Quite amazing. A good show that Babs brought it down on the inner sea. It doesn’t get whirlpools when we jump.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Fourteen years. Only Floyd and Liz surpass me. We’re all the last of our crews. The Pendragon was on her way home, back to Portsmouth when we spotted the island. The captain sent me ashore for provisions. Rotten luck all round.” Horatio gave an awkward one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever see Portsmouth again.”
“It’s the risk we sailors take when we go to sea.” Where would Sam call home?
“My father didn’t give me much say in the matter, what with him naming me Horatio and all.” At Sam’s questioning look he continued. “I suppose he was a bit after your time. Lord Horatio Nelson was British Admiral at the Battle of Trafalgar. He died heroically at the point of victory, defeating the combined fleets of France and Spain.”
“Some things never change.” If the English were not fighting the Spanish, they were fighting the French. Although, taking both on at the same time sounded ambitious.
“The fighting had calmed down in my time. Mostly, we were up against pirates and slavers.” He blinked at Sam. “I was talking to Catalina last night. According to her, you were one. A pirate that is, not a slaver.”
“I was a privateer. I’ll agree there’s not much difference when you’re on the other side.”
“Well, it’s all in the past now. We’re on the same side here.”
“Have you told that to Alonzo?” Sam had noticed the savage looks he was sending her way. She was surprised he had agreed to come on the salvage trip with her.
A sudden movement caught her eye. “Is that—” But Sam had her answer even before she could finish, not one of the deadly hunters, but a goat, munching on leaves.
“There are pigs and goats around. The farm stock gone feral. I’ve been told there were cows too, but the jungle didn’t suit them, and they died out.”
“The hunters don’t bother them?”
“Oh no. Luckily, the sheepdogs have reverted to acting like pack wolves. Otherwise the goats would have jolly well overrun the place and eaten it bare.”
“Are the dogs dangerous?”
“Best avoided, I’d say. Their ancestral memory might hold a few friendly instincts toward us, but I don’t advise putting it to the test.”
More goats were now visible. Sam watched until they were out of sight. “A shame we didn’t have a musket with us. Roast goat would be nice.”
Horatio tapped a storage box under the bench. “We have AK-47s, and let me tell you, they are to muskets what the outboard motor is to rowing. If the goats are still around on the way back, maybe w
e can bag a couple.”
The end of the canal was fast approaching. Soon the sides fell away on either side and they were on the open ocean. Torvold steered them close along the shoreline. “First sign of the jump, and I zip onto the beach. Quick as green mustard.” This was possibly the direct translation of a Viking saying. If any craft could outrun the whirlpools, the Inflatable probably had the best odds. Would it be quick enough?
Sam looked out to sea. The familiar horizon taunted her, water touching sky. “We could leave, couldn’t we? As long as we were far enough away when Atlantis jumped. The rest of the world is still out there.”
“Indeed. Some brave souls have taken their chances and headed off.”
“Did it turn out all right?”
“No way of knowing. It’s not just when we are. We aren’t even quite sure where we are. Atlantis isn’t a real island, you know. You can tell from the lay of the land it’s man-made…or alien-made, maybe I should say.”
“It moves?”
“It floats.”
“Floats?”
“When a hurricane hits, an invisible dome protects us, but you can feel the ground rocking.”
“You’d still have the sun and stars to navigate by.”
“But no idea how far to reach land. Plus, if you make it there safely, what will you find? Liz told you about her graph? The longer you have to get away, the less chance it’ll be anything like the world you left. Even Yaraha and Piracola decided to stay, rather than take their chance with measles and enemy tribes.”
Sam was about to trail her fingers in the water, then remembered Yaraha’s warning.
“Do the bio-robot piranhas ever come out here?”
“No. And normal fish don’t swim into the inner sea. Don’t ask me why.”
“The campsite. There she is,” Alonzo called out.
Sam had been too caught up watching the horizon. She turned to the beach. Sure enough, there were the remains of the awning she had helped put up, just two days before. Torvold steered the Inflatable to shore.
More wreckage had washed on the beach while she had been gone. Dotted among the flotsam were the pallid bodies of her former crewmates. Sam slid her feet over the soft wall of the Inflatable onto the warm sand. She tried to ignore the stench of rotting flesh and the flies hovering above each corpse.
Horatio and Torvold started on nearby crates. The bodies would be checked as well, but for now Sam decided to start with the unloaded supplies. She knew they were useful, and it would give her a chance to build herself up for the task. Sam had searched corpses before, but never of people she could put a name to.
The scrunch of feet on sand followed her. Alonzo was close behind. When he saw her turn her head, he deliberately averted his eyes. Sam clenched her teeth. His hostility was becoming tiresome, and she was no longer willing to ignore it. She reached the awning, then swung to face him.
“What’s wrong? Have I done something to insult you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m getting sick of you scowling at me.”
“And I sicken with the sight of you.”
“Then look somewhere else.”
Alonzo took a step closer and dropped his voice. “You tempted me. Was it a joke, to make a game of a man’s weakness? I have prayed to the Lord to take away this sickness from inside me. Every day, on my knees. With God’s help, I thought I had defeated it. For three years, I had not given in to the temptation. Then you play your tricks. You pull me back into the hell of the devil’s own lust. You set the trap for me.”
“It’s not my fault if you can’t live up to your own standards. I didn’t do anything to trap you.”
“Yes, you did. The Bible says, ‘A woman shall not wear that which belongs to a man, nor shall a man put on a woman’s clothes, for all who do so are an abomination to the Lord your God.’ People like you, who defy nature, you hope only to pull others into your sin.”
“I wasn’t trying to pull you in anything. I don’t care what you do, as long as you’re not doing it with me.”
“You made a fool of me.”
“You made a fool of yourself. I was minding my own business.”
“You break the divine law, and I pay the price.”
“Your guilty conscience isn’t my problem. Go back to praying for forgiveness. Wipe me from your mind. It should be easy enough. I assume I’m no longer a temptation for you.”
“I would wipe you from the world, if I could.”
“So why have you followed me?”
“I am not following you. Doña Catalina had to leave her gown here, to flee the foulness of your fellows. It is not right for a noble lady to walk around dressed as she is now.” Alonzo barged past Sam and through the wall of greenery, striking out with his fists as if the ferns were an enemy.
So that was it. Alonzo wanted someone to blame for everything he could not accept about himself. She should have guessed. Shaking her head, Sam knelt on the sand and yanked the nearest sack toward her. The bottom snagged on a root, wrenching it from her grasp, and spilling its contents.
Sam heard the angry hiss, an instant before the band of black, red, and yellow slithered from the neck of the open sack. No warning. No chance to back away. Sam froze. The head was scant inches from her hand, weaving back and forth. The forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air. Any movement might bring a strike, but maybe, if she stayed very, very still, the creature would slide away.
Snakes were rare on the islands, poisonous ones even more so, although they were common on the mainland. How had this one arrived? Was it an unwilling stowaway, carried on a floating log, or had the aliens released it for some unfathomable reason? Regardless, the type was one Sam had heard of, and for all the wrong reasons. She struggled to remember the sailor’s doggerel, about the way the red and yellow touched. The nose was black, which was a bad sign.
The wall of ferns rustled. Sam raised her eyes, the only part of her body she dared move. Alonzo stood there, staring at her with surprise that shifted into understanding. Sam felt her guts tighten in a knot. His chance to be rid of her—walk away and leave it to his vengeful God.
Without a word, Alonzo put down the bundle of clothes, picked up a fallen palm frond, and pulled a knife from his belt. Once the spiky leaves were gone, all that remained was the central stalk, three feet long. Slowly, Alonzo moved closer, holding it out like a sword. Of course, he could jolt her arm, giving God’s vengeance a helping hand. Instead, he deftly thrust the stalk under the looped body and flicked the snake away into the undergrowth.
Now it was safe to start shaking. Sam sat back on her heels and closed her eyes. “Thank you. I’m in your debt.”
“You are surprised.”
“I didn’t know what you’d do. You just said you wanted to wipe me from the world.”
“I am from a noble family. Poison, in all its forms, is a weapon only for cowards. When I kill, I do so honorably, with my sword, man to man. I would not expect someone like you to understand.”
“Because I’m a pirate, because I’m a commoner, or because I’m a woman?”
“Even a woman can know the meaning of honor.”
“And I’m a lost cause.”
His lip curled. “Your words. But you spoke of debt. If there is any honor to you, much though I doubt it, I ask this. Say nothing to Doña Catalina of the trick you played or my weakness in falling for it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
The chances of Catalina swapping gossip with her were slight enough. Alonzo’s taste in lovers was hardly likely to crop up. No matter. He had just saved her life and she owed him that much—not that she was about to make promises to the arrogant fool. Sam watched Alonzo walk back down the beach. Anyway, even if she were to swear an oath, it was not as if he would place any trust in her word.
* * *
“Do the wings flap?”
Sam had taken it for granted that they would, but now that she saw the Okeechobee Dawn, she was not so sure.<
br />
Babs gave one of her high-pitched giggles. “Don’t be silly. Of course not.”
“Then how does it fly?”
“Do you see the two propellers on the wings?”
“The things that look like windmills?”
“Yes, them. They spin around and pull the plane along. The air rushing over the wings gives the lift.”
Sam was unconvinced. The seaplane, with its two sets of wings, looked far too heavy to fly. She was surprised it could even float. It had to be top-heavy. Sam crossed her arms and studied it.
The Okeechobee Dawn was moored with its nose overhanging the inward facing embankment close to the Squat. Just like the outer jungle island, the alien garden formed a ring. Another circle of sea separated it from the central mountain. Except, now that Sam had a clear view, she was questioning whether the flat-topped shape was really a mountain. From where she stood, it looked like nothing so much as a tower—if you could accept a tower hundreds of feet high, and a half mile across. The sides rose like the layered buttresses of a castle.
Babs had come looking for Sam soon after the Inflatable returned. She was thirty years or so in age, with a round face, a thick mop of curly auburn hair, and a mass of freckles. She fired out words in rapid bursts, broken by giggles. Her manner shifted from steely confidence to bubbly humor and back so quickly, Sam was getting dizzy keeping up.
“Come on. I’ll show you the cockpit.” Babs tugged Sam’s arm.
“Do you have one of those in there?” Sam was confused. Why on earth would they be staging cockerel fights?
“Of course. How else could I fly it?”
“Do you need to examine their entrails?” Surely the Okeechobee Dawn did not use superstition for navigation.
“Whose entrails?”
“The bird that lost, I guess.”
“What?” Now Babs looked confused.
“Tell you what, show me the cockpit, and see if we can sort it out.”
Babs stepped onto the wing using a strut as a handhold and opened a small door on the hull. Sam followed. The seaplane rocked under her feet, but was clearly far more buoyant than she had expected.
Isle of Broken Years Page 12
