“I’m not stupid, Dr. Carter.” Feldman’s poisonous whip cracked again, leaving Carter cowering. “I have no intention of traveling through time. That’s impossible.”
“Then, what is it? What are we doing here?”
“We’re conducting a scientific experiment. Retracing the route step by step. Finding out what could have happened. Gauging the situation and, if possible, trying to understand it. We might discover a clue.”
“What if we find nothing?” Kate asked. “What if we get there, and the trip just keeps going without incident?”
Feldman shrugged. “I’ll keep trying as many times as necessary,” he said. “Either way, you’ll have a marvelous story for your newspaper, and I’ll be the owner of a 1930s luxury cruise ship with a mysterious past.”
Kate immediately understood what he meant. In an age in which all of the cruise ships were clones, enormous white mountains that traversed the seas and were crammed with tourists obsessed with the shows, casinos, and restaurants on board, the Valkyrie stood out like a poppy in a weed patch. Delicate and elegant, it recalled the golden era of glamour and luxury. Plus, the shadow of its cursed destiny only intensified its allure.
Kate issued a low whistle. People would come to blows for the honor of boarding this ship. Cruise fanatics would pay huge sums to travel on an authentic 1930s-style cruise. Kate’s story in the London New Herald would be the perfect promotional piece to attract publicity. Feldman, the great manipulator. She had no doubt he had planned this from the very beginning.
The young physicist, Carter, was not going to give up so easily, however.
“Nothing will happen,” he insisted. “Even if we retrace the ship’s course under the same conditions, there are a million other variables. We have no way of knowing the reason why everyone aboard the Valkyrie disappeared or what the seasonal patterns were like at the time. This will prove completely fruitless, Mr. Feldman. Seriously.”
“We’ve controlled the main variable, Mr. Carter,” Feldman replied, “which we believe was the cause of all this.”
“The Valkyrie,” murmured Carter thoughtfully.
“Not exactly.”
The walkie-talkie Senka Simovic was wearing on her waist interrupted the conversation. She turned away to listen more closely and then turned to Feldman and whispered something in his ear.
“I have word that our support team has finally arrived,” he announced with excitement. “Would you like to step outside a moment to see them? This is an ideal time to take a short break.”
They flocked outside to one of the terraces, where there were some potted plants and comfortable lounge chairs. They were on the upper level of the ship, and Kate thought that the command bridge could not have been far away.
They had left land far behind, and in every direction there was nothing but ocean. Not far from the Valkyrie, Kate caught sight of a small ship approaching that was painted a vibrant red with two white stripes along its side. When the group appeared on deck, the ship gave two loud toots of its horn to which the Valkyrie immediately responded, nearly leaving them deaf.
“The Mauna Loa! Our support ship,” Feldman shouted over the horns.
“Its design looks familiar,” Cherenkov said with a half smile.
“I’ll bet it does,” replied Senka. “It’s an old spy fishing boat that the Soviet Union used in the seventies. From the outside it looks like a harmless tugboat, but the vessel is loaded with radars and other surprising technological devices. We bought it at the end of the nineties for the price of a junker.”
“I was on the team that developed some of the electromagnetic-interference gadgets that little ship is carrying,” added Cherenkov with a wisp of nostalgia.
Kate could not pull her eyes from the ship. It did not seem like much compared to the Valkyrie. As far as support went, it hardly inspired confidence.
Suddenly, a blinding flash appeared on the stern of the Mauna Loa. The sound of the explosion reached their ears less than a second later, along with a shock wave. The column of smoke was accompanied by screams coming from members of the crew.
The Mauna Loa was jittering like a rabbit being chased by a dog and yawed nearly ninety degrees. Several sailors were running on deck toward the stern, where flames had begun to appear.
“What the hell is going on, Moore?” Feldman asked. “I want to know what’s happening right now.”
“Right away, Mr. Feldman.” Moore grabbed his walkie-talkie and began barking out orders. Minutes later, a dinghy pushed off from the side of the Valkyrie with two armed guards aboard. As soon as they touched the surface of the water, they took off like a shot toward the Mauna Loa, which was listing badly to starboard. Several men worked furiously to stop the flames from spreading over the stern, filling buckets with water that had flooded the deck.
“Is it going to sink?” asked Kate with apprehension.
One man who was badly hurt had been pulled from below deck. He was bleeding profusely and barely moving. Kate wondered if he would die.
“I don’t think so,” Senka answered somberly. “If she were going to sink, she would have already. But there must be a hole in the hull. I don’t think she can keep pace with us.”
They watched as another man was brought up to the deck, covered in burns. Even from that distance it was obvious he had suffered grave injuries.
“The curse of the Valkyrie,” whispered one man at Kate’s side in an accent she couldn’t identify. When he realized Kate had heard him, he held out his hand. He was short, husky, and around forty years old, and his upper lip bore a mustache of Homeric proportions. “I’m Will Paxton. Geologist and specialist in underwater formations. But I’m afraid that won’t be much use to those aboard the Mauna Loa right now.”
“There’s no curse,” grumbled Senka, waving her walkie-talkie. “It was sabotage. Someone planted a bomb on the Mauna Loa.”
XVII
Upon hearing the word bomb, Moore began shouting orders like crazy. Before they knew it, a dozen armed guards surrounded the passengers and directed them toward the interior of the Valkyrie. A few of them protested with the same annoyance of a passerby being asked to leave the scene of a horrific traffic accident, but most obeyed immediately. Kate took a few rushed photos before she returned inside as well.
Moore was on the verge of a fitful rage. His pupils had shrunk down to the size of two tiny black marbles as he kept issuing orders. He approached his boss and relayed a piece of information that caused Feldman to nod gravely.
“Attention.” Moore raised his voice. “This is an emergency. Return to your cabins while we run a security check on board the ship. Don’t move until we advise differently. Exiting your cabin is strictly forbidden until we say otherwise. Anyone who disobeys will be removed from the ship, after having some quality time alone with me.”
“Look, buddy,” said Carter, the American with a lazy Southern accent, as he listened nonchalantly. “You don’t have to show such poor manners. It’s not like we’ve signed up for the army, so far as I know.”
Moore cast a furious look at him. Carter, indifferent, proceeded to wipe his glasses with the edge of his shirt, unperturbed. He thoroughly cleaned them before holding them up to the light with an expression of impatience before bringing them down to wipe them again. Finally satisfied, he put them back on.
“Since I’ve been on board I’ve spent more time locked up in my cabin than out of it. The last time I looked at my passport I was a free citizen. I think, at the very least, we deserve an explanation.”
Moore approached Carter until their noses were nearly touching. The Brit was a mountain of muscle and a head taller than the American. Still, Carter seemed unflustered.
“Listen to me,” said Moore, his voice raspy and threatening. “This is not an invitation or a suggestion. It’s an order. Anyone unwilling to go freely back to their room will be escorted back by two of my men. You have ten minutes. It’s your choice.”
Without another word he turned to S
enka and left the Gneisenau Room followed by three of his men.
The fifteen passengers looked at each other, confused and disoriented. They had left Hamburg barely five hours ago, and it was already beginning to seem less and less like an eccentric indulgence.
Feldman walked toward them in silence, and Kate caught a hint of worry on his face. It was a tiny inkling, no more than a light shadow, yet it was the first crack in the hard granite shell he had erected to keep his feelings from being exposed. This scared Kate. If Feldman was worried, the situation had to be serious.
“I beg you to listen to Mr. Moore,” he said in a conciliatory fashion. “At times he can be quite curt, but he knows what he’s doing.”
“What’s going on, Feldman?” asked Kate. Somehow, she had become the spokesperson for the entire group. Let the reporter do the talking seemed to be the common sentiment.
“An object has exploded in the engine room on the Mauna Loa, and at least two crew members are dead and one is seriously injured. The ship has also suffered serious damage and is drifting as we speak. We think someone may have infiltrated her while we were docked in Hamburg. If so, they could have planted a bomb with a timer set to explode at sea. Worse yet, in spite of all our security, there is still a chance someone has planted a bomb aboard the Valkyrie as well.”
A hushed panic swept through the group. Almost by instinct, they huddled closer together.
Kate and Feldman locked eyes. The incident with the SUV, the death of Carroll, and now the explosion. Someone definitely did not want the Valkyrie project to move forward.
“We need to talk,” Kate said in a voice low enough that only Feldman heard.
“We will.” Feldman nodded. “But for now, please return to your cabin.”
Kate turned around and walked inside. As she entered she gestured toward Carter. The American, who seemed like the rebellious type, reluctantly followed Kate. The rest of the group, like lost sheep, crowded together and babbled to each other as they followed orders.
“What are we doing?” the physicist whispered as they walked down the hallway together. “If there’s a bomb, it could be anywhere.”
Kate gave no response and continued walking. Eventually, she turned to Carter and gave a sly smile.
“You were brave back there with Moore. Almost reckless,” she said.
“I don’t stand for bullies.”
Kate smiled as she recalled the scene. Moore could have whipped him like a wet dog, but Carter had not been scared. Or, at least, he had not let it show.
“Feldman’s right. Moore as well, in his way,” Kate finally said. “If someone has planted a bomb somewhere, they could have only done so in the restored areas. The rest of the ship has been sealed off since we left, and before that only Feldman’s most trusted confidants were allowed on board. If we’re not getting in the way like drunken ducks, Moore and his men can finish the search sooner.”
Carter chewed on something while he mulled over Kate’s thoughts. Finally, he nodded.
“So what’s Feldman got up his sleeve, then?” the physicist asked. “Do you know something he hasn’t told the rest of us?”
“No,” she answered, thinking of Carroll.
Carter grinned. “Hey, you’re all right, Kate Kilroy. I suppose that’s because you’re the only one who doesn’t look at Feldman like he’s Zeus. Or perhaps I should say Yahweh?” he said with a chuckle.
“He does command a certain reverence, I’ll agree with you there,” Kate answered with a smile. “What can you tell me about yourself and all these people, Carter?”
“I really don’t know much about what’s going on here. Two weeks ago I was working as a physics professor in Georgia when someone called and asked if I’d be willing to participate in a scientific expedition. Of course, I agreed. They’re paying me a small fortune for a two-week voyage, but they haven’t filled me in on anything else. I think all the others are in the same boat.” Carter laughed at his pun as he pointed a thumb back at the rest of the team. “There are astrophysicists, mathematicians, a geologist, two meteorologists, and even a guy I think I’ve seen on TV before. Everyone here is blind. Nobody knows much except Cherenkov. He’s in charge.”
“Cherenkov?” Kate turned around to look at the Russian, who was conversing with another scientist and waving his arms about wildly. “Why him?”
“He’s the only one who is up to speed on Feldman’s master plan. He recommended all of us and recruited this team. I guarantee this is no easy team to unite. I’ve heard of several of these scientists and their reputations. I’d bet anything they haven’t left their laboratories for anything less than a fortune.”
“But what exactly is the project?”
The pair had arrived in the hallway where their cabins were located. The guards, looking nervous, were urging everyone to get in their rooms as quickly as possible.
“I’m not sure,” answered Carter just before stepping into his cabin. “But I’d bet the farm it has something to do with the Cherenkov Singularity.”
“The what Singularity?” asked Kate, but Carter had already closed his door.
XVIII
Kate entered her cabin with unanswered questions whirling in her mind. As she took her shoes off and let her hair down, she tried to put together what facts she had: the Valkyrie, its scientific research team, the unknown person who had tried to kill everyone.
The voice she had heard in the hallway.
The memory spread through her mind like poison ivy, but she pushed it out as soon as it entered. It had not happened. The tension, the idea of being aboard a haunted ship, the nerves. There were a million possible explanations. Occam.
She sat down on the bed. For ten minutes she sat without taking her eyes from the same point on the carpet. Her thoughts explored what had happened so far that day.
She decided a bath would do her good. She went to the huge bathtub and turned on the water. It rushed out from the bronze faucets. After only a few seconds, the bathroom had filled with steam, making the place look like an ancient and decadent hot spring bath.
She dipped into the water and gave a slight gasp. The steam traced strange shapes in the air. Kate closed her eyes, relaxed. She noticed how the small ceramic tiles pressed into her butt without being uncomfortable. To her right was a large jar of bath salts. She took a handful and sprinkled the crystals into the water. Immediately, a delicious fragrance permeated the entire room. She closed her eyes again and sank back into the cozy little spa she had created for herself. She breathed deeply, satisfied.
But then something almost imperceptible crept in. Kate nearly overlooked it and continued relaxing, but underneath the smell of the bath salts stirred a much more subtle scent. Something metallic and oily.
Boom.
Kate sat up in the bathtub, completely alert. The door separating the bathroom from the bedroom was slightly ajar, exactly as she had left it. Steam flowed out of the cracks of the doorway and swirled lazily through the air. Someone was moving on the other side of the door, dragging something heavy. Then, she heard a dull thump as if someone were fluffing the biggest pillow in the world. She heard a peculiar and labored breathing. Almost like a death rattle—deep, desperate gasps and quick panting, over and over. Kate shivered as her skin sprouted goose bumps.
Sitting in the bathtub completely naked, she could hear her heart pounding as adrenaline rushed through her body. Someone was in her cabin.
Or something, Kate. Or something.
She looked around for something that could act as a weapon. She grabbed the heavy ceramic bath salt jar and tried to stand up in silence. As she rose, a small splash of water betrayed her movement. The noise on the other side of the door ceased. Kate cursed herself. Without bothering to cover herself, she slowly tiptoed toward the door. Her skin felt like it was receiving an electric shock.
She quietly placed her hand on the door and then burst forth, wielding the ceramic jar over her head.
Nobody was there. Even so, an icy
knot formed inside her stomach.
The room was absolute chaos. Her suitcase had been moved from the sofa and placed beside the desk. The bed was unmade as if some angry person had torn off the sheets and then decided to repeatedly stab the mattress with a large knife in a mad effort to remove all of its stuffing. A pillow was at her feet. Kate picked it up and discovered, much to her horror, that it was soaked in some foul-smelling liquid. There was a dark mud-like stain all over the back of the sofa, which had also been gutted like the mattress.
Kate suddenly felt very vulnerable standing there naked. Without turning around she stepped slowly back into the bathroom as her heart struggled to leap out of her chest. Once inside she grabbed a towel and covered her body.
Easy, Kate. Go into the hallway. Call security. Be quick.
She walked back into her cabin ready to rush through, but she stopped, aghast. Her knees shook, and the blood drained from her face.
“This isn’t possible. It can’t be.”
The bed was made without a single wrinkle. The upholstery on the sofa was immaculate, and her suitcase was back where she had placed it hours ago. Feeling as if she were trapped in a dream, she went to the bed and uncovered the pillows.
They were all dry. Completely, utterly dry.
She felt dizzy.
I know what I saw. I am not crazy.
She walked around her cabin feeling numb, like a bag of cotton was stuck between her ears. Her eyes jumped about erratically in search of some clue. She realized she was still holding the ceramic jar. She shivered and knew it had been no dream.
She began to hyperventilate. Something had been there with her in that cabin. Standing on the threshold between the bedroom and the bathroom, she turned back and forth over and over again, feeling more scared each time.
Two loud bangs sounded, and Kate dropped the jar to the floor and screamed. The banging became louder, more urgent.
Only then did she realize she had a caller at the door. Voices could be heard in the hall.
The Last Passenger Page 11
