by Anne Ursu
“What in the world?” Mr. Mielswetzski said. “Charlotte? You were supposed to meet us for lunch. We were waiting!”
Charlotte felt Lieutenant Rogers’s eyes rest on her. Lunch, doctor’s office, same diff.
“I found her sneaking around the restricted deck,” he said. “She seemed to be heading toward the crew’s quarters.”
“What?” Both her parents looked from the guard to her in perfect synchronicity.
“That deck is strictly off-limits to passengers,” he continued. “I could have her thrown off the ship for this.”
“Oh!” said Mr. Mielswetzski.
“Oh!” said Mrs. Mielswetzski.
“We have rules. There’s a reason we have security precautions, you know. We can’t have passengers running around everywhere.”
“Of course,” said Mr. Mielswetzski.
“Absolutely,” said Mrs. Mielswetzski.
“We’re so sorry,” said Mr. Mielswetzski.
“We’ll talk to her!” said Mrs. Mielswetzski.
“See that you do. One more incident, and I will have you all removed from the ship.”
With that, he dismissed them. Charlotte got up and shuffled out into the hallway, while her parents followed grimly behind. At least, she thought, he hadn’t mentioned why he thought Charlotte was down there. Because that would really—
“Oh, Mrs. Mielswetzski?” the lieutenant called. “A word, please. There’s one more thing I think you should know.”
Great.
Back up in Charlotte’s cabin, she sat on her bed staring out of the window. It was still dark and stormy outside, and the boat seemed to be rocking more than ever. But Charlotte’s vague feeling of nausea had nothing to do with seasickness. Mrs. Mielswetzski was pacing in front of the bed in full lecture mode, while Mr. Mielswetzski sat darkly in a corner, staring at the ground.
“We’re on this cruise one day, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Mielswetzski, “one day, and we’re getting calls from security.”
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said glumly.
“The lieutenant told me you were down there looking for a…boy.”
“What?” said Mr. Mielswetzski, snapping to attention.
“It’s true,” said Mrs. Mielswetzski. “Charlotte snuck down to the crew level to meet a boy.”
Mr. Mielswetzski groaned.
Charlotte straightened. “Look, you guys, it was important, okay? You don’t understand.”
“You’re right we don’t understand,” Mrs. Mielswetzski snapped. “Would you like to enlighten us?”
“You’re just going to have to trust me,” Charlotte said quietly.
“Trust you?” said Mrs. Mielswetzski. “Trust you? You sneak off in the middle of the night and now this. You want us to trust you? We want nothing more than to trust you, but you need to begin acting trustworthy.”
Charlotte couldn’t help it; she was getting angry. Here she had risked her life a thousand times over to save the world, and if anything should earn a girl major trust points, it’s that. “You guys don’t know everything, you know,” she snapped. “You don’t know what things are like.”
Mrs. Mielswetzski stopped pacing and sighed heavily. “Charlotte, I know there are a lot of pressures on a girl your age.” From his corner, Mr. Mielswetzski groaned again.
“That’s not it!” Charlotte was nearly yelling now. “I’m not some teenage girl you read about in your books. I’m me. You don’t know what’s really going on! You guys keep saying you want me to take responsibility, but when I do, you don’t like it.”
But she’d lost her mother again. “I don’t see how sneaking into the crew’s quarters to be with some boy is taking responsibility.”
“He’s not some boy!”
Silence then. Mrs. Mielswetzski stared at her, while Mr. Mielswetzski put his head in his hands. Charlotte cringed. Shaking her head very slowly, her mother said quietly, “Goodness, Charlotte, I thought you’d be a lot older before we’d be having this conversation.”
“I’m a lot older than you think,” Charlotte said through clenched teeth. She knew what it sounded like, and she didn’t know why she was saying these things. Just last year, if this had happened—and of course it wouldn’t have, but a lot can change in a year—Charlotte would have been able to make something up, anything, that could have convinced her parents that she wasn’t having some kind of assignation and in fact her intentions were perfectly pure, as was only natural because she was a perfect angel. But there was something about learning the truth of the world that made lying to them just impossible. The truth was so much more absurd than any lie could be; everything else sounded weak in comparison.
But then Charlotte realized: Why not just tell them the truth? Not everything, obviously, but her dad had met Jason, and both her parents knew he had supposedly run away, and if they thought he was on this ship they would talk to someone important. Everyone wants to find a runaway boy, right?
“Look,” said Charlotte, glancing from one parent to another to make sure she had their full attention. “I thought I saw Jason Hart.”
Relief washed over her as she said the words; it felt good to tell the truth. Charlotte could just see it now—her parents would go right to the captain and they would find this runaway boy working in the laundry and they’d put him in a room somewhere and watch him very carefully so he couldn’t run away again and Charlotte would be a hero and she’d ask to talk to Jason and of course they’d let her, because she was a hero, and she’d go all army interrogation on him and find out what was going on.
Her parents exchanged a glance. Mrs. Mielswetzski looked at Charlotte almost sadly. “Do you honestly expect us to believe that?”
Or not.
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Yes, I do. It’s the truth!”
“Yes, and I believe you were also down on Deck Two looking for the doctor’s office, right? Because I had had an operation? Oh, Charlotte, what are we going to do with you?”
“Come on, you guys. I’m telling the truth! You have to tell someone! Jason Hart is working on this boat. He must have run away and gotten a job on the cruise ship. You know, like people run away to join the circus?”
“Stop it.” From his spot in the corner, Mr. Mielswetzski was staring at his daughter sadly. “Please. Don’t use that, all right? Things are bad enough….”
“But—”
“Charlotte,” said Mrs. Mielswetzski, “I guess we’re going to have to ground you on the cruise, too. I’d like you to stay in your room the rest of the day, all right? Your father and I will figure out what to do with you.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue, Charlotte. Really. Just stay in your room, okay?” Her parents exchanged another glance. “Your father and I will come get you for dinner.”
And with that, they turned to go. Charlotte thought quickly. They were going to a lecture later, maybe she could sneak out, and—
“Oh, and Charlotte?” said Mrs. Mielswetzski, turning. “Your room key, please.”
“What? Mom!”
“Your room key? You won’t be needing it if you stay in your room, will you?”
Glowering, Charlotte reached into her pocket and handed her mother her key card, which she tucked ceremoniously inside her own pocket. Then her parents left, and as soon as the door closed behind them, Charlotte flopped down on the bed, buried her head in her pillow, and screamed.
CHAPTER 16
My Dinner with Philonecron
Setting: an elegantly set ebony table in a vast stateroom. The room is tastefully decorated, if a little Gothic, and if you ignore the evil laboratory in the corner. Two people are seated at the table across from each other. They are Philonecron and Zee. Both are dressed impeccably.
Philonecron: Oh, Zero, I’m so delighted you came to stay with me. It’s been so trying here by myself with no one to talk to. They’re all a bunch of Philistines and half-wits who wouldn’t know sophistication if it crept up behind them, stuck its fangs in their neck
, and sucked out all their blood.
Zee:….
Philonecron: (rolling eyes) You don’t have to tell me! Oh, here we go!
A waiter comes in, carrying a tray on which sit two plates covered with large silver domes. He sets one in front of Philonecron and the other in front of Zee. Philonecron removes the covering on his and motions to Zee to do the same.
Philonecron: Go ahead! Lift it up!
Zee does.
Philonecron: (beaming) Voilà! Doesn’t that look marvelous? Would you believe you can’t even get Hydra fillets up here? I had to have them ordered specially. But only the best for my boy. Eat, eat! You’re a growing boy. You need your strength!
Zee:….
Philonecron: I know, I know. It’s not the same as it would be in the Underworld. It’s overcooked, the sauce is much too rich—but what do you expect from these people? If only…(sighs) if only we could have made things work in the Underworld, Zero. We would have been so happy there. But…(holding up hands) I’m not holding a grudge. I think we’ve really been able to move past all of that. We have nothing but the future ahead of us. And what a beautiful future it will be!
Zee:….
Philonecron: No, no, you’re right. I know! If you hadn’t foully betrayed me, we might have been content with just a nether realm, and our destiny is higher than that. (Sighs happily.) From the first time I smelled your blood I knew you were special, knew you were destined for great things. We’ll rule the whole Universe together someday, father and son. I’ll even get you a little throne.
Zee:….
Philonecron: (sighing dramatically) I don’t know how yet, my precious Zero. Overthrowing Zeus is not easy. That’s why I need your help. You’re a hero and I’m an evil genius, and together we will come up with the most wonderful plan the world has ever seen. Rest assured. (He lowers his voice, like someone with a really good piece of gossip.) Do you know my esteemed grandfather tried to overthrow Zeus once? It’s true! He and the other Olympians trapped him and bound him up in a thousand knots. They hid his thunder bolt, too, so he couldn’t fight back. I know! Naughty, naughty! Poseidon’s a bad little boy!
Zee:….
Philonecron: Oh, yes. (Waves hand dismissively.) Thetis got a giant to free Zeus, and everything was back to normal. In a way, it’s for the best. Imagine if Poseidon ruled the Universe. We’d all be wearing leisure suits. (He cocks his head.) That’s the rub, though, with Zeus. You need to separate him from his precious thunder bolt. (Shakes his head.) Or else confront him with an object of equal power. But of course, there are only two of those in the world…. (Looks off thoughtfully into the distance.)
Zee:….
Philonecron: (snapping back to attention) I know! My glass has been empty for ten minutes! Where is that pathetic vermin of a waiter, eh? Waiterrrrrrr! (He stares at the door, which does not open, then sinks into his chair, defeated and disgusted.) It’s awful. Disgraceful! (In a rage, he clenches his hand into a fist and starts banging it against the table.) There. Are. No. Standards!
Zee:….
Philonecron: Oh! Oh no, I’m so sorry. Don’t be alarmed! I lost control, I admit it. I know how sensitive you are. Just like I am. That’s why we make such a good team! (Smiles.) Now, tell me, what shall we do with humanity when we take over, eh? Enslave them? Destroy them? Enslave them, then destroy them?
Zee:….
Philonecron: (grinning) Yes! Yes! Brilliant! We’ll unleash the monsters and demons on them! (He clasps his hands together, delighted.) Oh, what fun that will be! Can you imagine the little dears running for their lives from Harpies and Gorgons and Minotaurs? Oh, my! Oh, what a show!
Zee:….
Philonecron: Do not worry. We’ll get there soon. As soon as you watch your cousin’s untimely demise, we’ll begin our work. Now. (Clasps hands together.) What would you like to do after dinner? Parcheesi?
Zee:….
Philonecron: I couldn’t have said it better myself.
CHAPTER 17
A Minor Course Correction
FOR THE REST OF THE DAY, CHARLOTTE PACED AROUND her room grumbling and pausing every once in a while to kick and/or punch something. She couldn’t believe her mother had taken her key card. How was she supposed to get out and look for Jason if she couldn’t get back into her room? Honestly. She thought briefly of propping the door with something so she could sneak out and get back in, but she didn’t even want to think of the trouble she’d be in when her parents noticed that.
And she’d finally told them the truth—at least a part of the truth—and this is what she got? She couldn’t imagine what would happen if she’d told them the whole thing. They’d lock her up in the attic until she was eighty.
Charlotte couldn’t get over it. They were awful. They were impossible. They were always telling her they were there for her, and now when she truly needed them, they were treating her like a common criminal. Her mom was always so worried about her self-esteem, but she apparently didn’t consider what it might do to Charlotte to have her own parents doubt her. Well, Charlotte thought, as long as she was willing to pony up for the therapy when Charlotte was thirty and suffered major trust issues.
Somewhere in the world there was a girl whose parents trusted her, who understood when she said she couldn’t tell them everything, who believed her when she told them things that might seem unbelievable. Somewhere, that girl was very happy, and when she went out to save the world, she could do so happy in the knowledge that when she came back she wouldn’t get in trouble for it.
Charlotte hoped that girl knew how lucky she was.
So what was she supposed to do now? Jason was on the ship, and he’d seen her, that much was certain. And now all she could do was pace around her room and wait for him to do whatever it was he was sent to do. When he came to kidnap her and feed her to his pet piranhas, then they’d be sorry. They would go around the country giving speeches and taping public service announcements: “Always believe your kids, no matter how crazy it sounds, because if you don’t, they might get fed to piranhas.”
Charlotte needed to find Jason, and she couldn’t do that while she was confined to her room, that was clear—and she didn’t want to wait for him to find her. She could call the security officer with an anonymous tip—but he wasn’t going to believe her. They always knew what room you were calling from. Even if he didn’t, she was just a kid, and adults don’t believe kids, ever. It’s like once you pass a certain age threshold some sort of brain chip kicks in and you suddenly start thinking that everyone under the age of seventeen is either a pathological liar or clinically insane. But, oh, once you reach adulthood, then you are magically gifted with sanity and become perfect in every way.
Charlotte paced. Well, maybe tomorrow when they went to the living hell known as Colonial Williamsburg—which was going to be a total blast, because the only thing worse than being dragged to Colonial Williamsburg was being dragged to Colonial Williamsburg by parents who thought you were a juvenile delinquent—she could find some nice-looking old person and tell her that there was a runaway boy on the ship, and she would of course tell security because, you know—runaway boy!—and they’d find him immediately and give him a lecture on rules, and then they’d tell Charlotte’s parents, and then they would feel very, very bad for not believing their daughter. Not as bad as if Charlotte had been fed to piranhas, but she was willing to make some sacrifices.
It didn’t take long for the universe to foil that plan too. Just as Charlotte had stopped pacing and gotten settled on her bed, slightly comforted in the knowledge that she had a plan of action, the overhead intercom system pinged three times signaling an all-ship announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the voice said, “this is your captain speaking. You may have noticed we’ve landed in the middle of a storm. We’re trying to navigate our way out of it, and I believe we should be clear of it soon. But unfortunately, we’ve had to make a course correction. Due to the storm, we’re farther east than we should be, and
unfortunately we won’t be able to stop in Yorktown tomorrow. I hope to get us back on course soon so we can make our scheduled arrival at Mount Vernon on Saturday. I’m deeply sorry for any inconvenience. Our cruise director is working on an exciting roster of onboard activities for you….”
Wonderful.
Charlotte’s parents knocked on her door at six thirty. (Charlotte didn’t know why they bothered to knock, since they had her key.) When Charlotte saw them, she felt her stomach twist up in rage again. For their part, her parents only looked solemn.
“Would you like to come eat with us?” Mrs. Mielswetzski said.
No. “Look, would it be okay if I got room service instead?” Charlotte asked icily. She was not going to sit there at dinner and pretend they weren’t the worst parents in the history of the world
Her parents exchanged a look. “Sure, Char,” Mrs. Mielswetzski said formally, “that would be fine. We’ll come get you for breakfast tomorrow. Nine o’ clock?”
Her parents stood awkwardly in the doorway, and Charlotte said, for no reason at all, “So, you guys must be pretty disappointed about the Williamsburg trip.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Charlotte cringed. What was she doing? Why was she making conversation with these people? She was supposed to be slamming the door in their faces.
“Oh,” said Mr. Mielswetzski. “Sure, it’s too bad, but the cruise director says Thalia’s going to sing during the day tomorrow. That’s much better than Williamsburg.”
