The Expeditioners and the Treasure of Drowned Man's Canyon

by S. S. Taylor

  I thought for a minute. “Why would Dad want us to have that map, Raleigh? Do you think he wanted us to find the treasure? Did he say anything to you about leaving it to us?”

  Raleigh tried to stand up, as though he’d forgotten for a minute that he couldn’t. Beneath his beard, his face was red and his eyes were angry.

  “God forgive me. You have to understand. After my accident, I… well, I’ve kind of kept to myself. I let self-pity get the better of me. Alex visited me a couple of years ago. I think he had something to tell me. He kept circling around it, waiting for me to be in the mood to listen. But I couldn’t stand seeing him. He was so. . . vigorous. So full of life. He just reminded me of all the expeditions I’d never go on. I picked a fight, basically drove him away. If I could go back and…”

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I glanced at Zander and said, “Raleigh, I found the map because Dad left us a code in Mr. Mountmorris’s book. A man brought me the book when I was out in the market. He was being chased by agents and I think he got away, but…”

  Raleigh struggled in his seat again. “Who was he? Who was the man?”

  “We don’t know,” I said. “Just a man, an Explorer, I think, no one I’d seen before. He had a clockwork hand. Do you know who he is?”

  There was a long, long silence before Raleigh said, “No, I don’t know who he is, but I think I know what he is.” He settled back into his chair, looking defeated.

  “What he is?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”

  Raleigh didn’t say anything, and it was M.K. who broke the silence. “I’ve got these done for you,” she told him. “Here, let’s try them on.”

  Once M.K. helped Raleigh buckle them on, Raleigh stood up and the IronLegs started moving, walking him around the room as he engaged the clockwork gears at the top.

  He grinned, though the look of pain was still there beneath his smile. “I should have known one of Alex’s kids would turn out to be a mechanic.” He sat down again and looked at me.

  “If I’m not mistaken,” he said, his eyes very serious, “that man is a member of the Mapmakers’ Guild.”

  Eighteen

  I Jumped out of my chair. “They were talking about that in the basement. They said something about the Mapmakers’ Guild. What is it, Raleigh?”

  “The Mapmakers’ Guild,” Raleigh told us, as we all looked at the dying fire, “is a secret organization outlawed by the government, ever since the Muller Machines were hacked.”

  “Are you a member?” M.K. asked in a hushed voice.

  “Me? No way.” Raleigh laughed, tucking a new wad of dramleaf into his lip. “The Guild—from what I’ve figured out—was the elite of the elite. Cartographers, I think. It goes way, way back, to the time when they built the first Muller Machines. The Guild put all the information into the Muller Machines that made the maps. People didn’t know much about them, but they worked for the government and they did some exploring. They were about the only ones who were allowed to travel.

  “But then, the Muller Machines were hacked. And the new government came in and outlawed them. This was President Barbado, the guy before Hildreth. When Harrison Arnoz discovered Grygia, they went on a witch hunt, trying to figure out how everyone had been duped. The government figured that the Mapmakers’ Guild must have known and that they were helping the government to keep the New Lands for the rich, rather than bringing the resources back for the good of the country and our allies. Barbado and his goons tracked down a bunch of them and put them in jail.

  “Everyone figured they were gone, but I’ve heard rumors that they aren’t at all, that they still operate in secret. When I was still around the Expedition Society, I remember hearing about people getting interrogated by BNDL agents. They reported that the agents asked them about this Map Guild or Mapmakers’ Guild. They seemed to have inside knowledge.”

  “And you think the man who gave Kit the book is a member of the Guild?” Zander asked him.

  Raleigh looked at me. “Guys with clockwork hands give you mysterious packages every day, do they, Kit?”

  I sat there for a minute, staring at the fire, trying to put it together. “So the guy was part of some sort of secret fraternity? But what does Dad have to do with all of this?”

  “I don’t know.” Raleigh’s face clouded over. “Your dad was a great Explorer. He…”

  “Do you think he was part of this Mapmakers’ Guild?” I asked.

  Raleigh just stared at the fire.

  “He was weird before he left for Fazia,” I said suddenly. “There was something going on. When he said goodbye to us, it was like there was something he wasn’t telling us.” Zander and M.K. nodded.

  “You think that’s why he was kicked out of the Expedition Society, don’t you?” I asked Raleigh. “Because he was in this organization?”

  He took a deep breath. “Maybe. But I was hoping it was about him standing up to land grabbers like Leo Nackley.”

  “Land grabbers?”

  “After the New Lands were found,” Raleigh told us, “there were some explorers who thought that BNDL and ANDLC—you know about ANDLC, right?” We nodded. “Well, they thought that the government had the right to take anything it wanted, to move people off their land, relocate animal populations.” He pointed to Pucci. “To modify animals to use against their own people, take natural resources, anything they wanted. Leo Nackley was one of them. Your father and I thought differently. The government decided it for us, of course, and your father and I… well, I suppose you could say that we went along so we would be allowed to keep exploring. I’m not proud of it, but there it is.” He hesitated for a minute and I had the feeling that he’d been about to tell us something, then stopped himself. “There were things that happened that…,” he started. “There are things that it would be dangerous for you to know.”

  “We’re already in danger, Raleigh,” Zander said. “And I don’t know who the guy is, but he risked his life to get us the map. We owe it to him and to Dad to try to find the treasure.”

  Raleigh looked up at Zander. “To try to find the… You don’t mean that you’re going to Arizona?”

  One look at our faces told him all he needed to know.

  “Of course you’re going to Arizona. You’re Alex’s kids, aren’t you?” He stood up awkwardly and paced around a bit on the IronLegs, still getting a feel for them. The candles were burning down, their light flickering against the walls.

  “If I thought I could stop you, I would,” Raleigh said. “But if you three are half as stubborn as your dad was, there isn’t any point. There is… one other thing.”

  He lit a candle and slowly led the way up the stairs to the second floor of the house, opening a large closet in the upstairs hallway. He reached behind the jumble of coats and explorer’s jackets hanging there and pulled out a large cardboard box, holding the candle over it so we could see. “For Zander, Kit, and M.K.,” Dad had written on white tape on the top of the box.

  “He left these when he came to visit,” Raleigh said. “He must have hidden them up here when I wasn’t looking. I found them only a couple of months ago. Obviously, he wanted you to have them. And I think you’re going to need them.” He took the top off the box and brought out three identical Explorer’s vests. We slipped them on over our sweaters and adjusted them so that they fit perfectly. They were just like Dad’s, made of different hides and synthetic fabrics, lined with namwee fur and sporting multiple gadgets and utilities embedded on the outsides of the vests. There were more in the many inside and outside pockets.

  We didn’t have time to inspect them properly, but I could see that my vest had a compass embedded in the front, along with other devices. I found a large map pouch on the back inside lining and zipped the maps of Drowned Man’s Canyon inside.

  “Reminds me of him,” Raleigh said, studying us in our vests for a minute. He went back into the box and took out three pairs of Explorer’s leggings made of black cowhide so supple it was like someone had b
een wearing them for years. The leggings were complete with cargo pockets all along the legs. “You’ll be well outfitted, at least,” Raleigh said wistfully. “All right, gang. It’s time for bed.”

  We’d been asleep only a couple of hours when Raleigh woke us, striding into the room on the IronLegs, saying, “Get up, kids. Now. It’s important.” He’d put us in a bedroom on the second floor, and as he waved a lit candle around the room, I could see that it was cluttered with remnants from his travels, statues and figurines and paintings. At first, I thought I was still asleep, dreaming that I was surrounded by tiny people made of jade and stone.

  I sat up in bed, nudging Zander, who was sleeping next to me. M.K. was on a mattress on the floor, and Pucci hopped over and started pulling at her hair. M.K. could sleep through almost anything.

  “What?” She sat up suddenly and looked around the room.

  “Some men just came to the door,” Raleigh said, walking on the clanking leg braces over to the window and pulling aside the curtains to look outside. “It’s two o’clock in the morning and some men just came to the door.” He peeked out the window again and paced around the room. “There were a whole bunch of them, agents and police on IronSteeds.”

  Zander was already out of bed and getting into his clothes and I followed suit. M.K. ducked into the bathroom and came out dressed in her leggings, shirt, and vest, lacing up her boots.

  “They were lying,” Raleigh said. “They told me they were concerned about your safety. They said that they’d learned I was a friend of your father’s and they wondered if I’d heard from you. I told them no, of course, but I’m not sure they believed me. Now there are a bunch of people out there.” Zander went to look out the window. “No! Zander! They’ll see you.”

  “We have to get going,” Zander said.

  “You can’t go out the front,” Raleigh said. “Look.”

  I stepped to the window and peeked around the edge of the curtain and gasped. Raleigh was right. The street in front of the house was filled with people and IronSteeds.

  I looked at the group. “That Neo guy in the red jumpsuit… Mr. Mountmorris’s secretary. Jec something. He’s out there. He isn’t just Mr. Mountmorris’s secretary, he must also be a BNDL operative.”

  “They’re everywhere,” Raleigh said with a scowl. “I know Explorers who swear BNDL has tapped their phones and tailed them when they’re on expeditions.”

  “We’ve got to go,” Zander said. “Now.”

  Raleigh looked nervous. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “What else can we do?” Zander asked him.

  “You could stay with me. I could hide you. I have money. I—”

  “They’d find us,” Zander said. “We’re committed to Arizona at this point. If we can find the treasure before Nackley does, then we can bargain with them.”

  Raleigh watched as we got ready.

  “All right,” he said. “You can go out the back. The train lines run parallel to the street about half a mile that way.” He pointed toward the back of the house. “There’s no station, but the trains make a stop there to switch tracks. I think you should be able to get into one of the empty cargo cars. Be careful, though, the rail riders can be a nasty bunch. Oh, and I almost forgot. I made these for your parrot. I don’t even want to know how you guys ended up with one of them, but if you don’t cover up his feet, you’re going to attract some pretty unwelcome attention.” He handed a set of leather booties to Zander and helped tie them over Pucci’s feet and legs. He still didn’t look like a normal parrot, but at least the metal talons weren’t so noticeable. Pucci hopped over and nuzzled Raleigh’s neck in thanks.

  We all trooped downstairs and Raleigh gave us each an awkward hug that smelled overwhelmingly of dramleaf and sour wine. “I should have food to give you or something. Hell, I shouldn’t be letting you go at all. Do you want some cookies?” He tucked a few stale cookies into a rolled-up newspaper and handed it over. “Hey, how about some money?” He took a pile of hundred-dollar bills out of a jar on the kitchen counter and handed a few bills to each of us. We exchanged wide-eyed glances and stuffed the money into our vests.

  “I’m not much of a grown-up,” he said.

  “You’re the only grown-up we’ve got,” M.K. said, kissing him on the cheek.

  “Then you’re in more trouble than I thought.” He grinned.

  We thanked him again and slipped out the back door, already running into the last of the night.

  Nineteen

  Lulled by the motion of the train and curled up on piles of hay, we slept through the darkness in an empty cargo car on the Philadelphia—Los Angeles line.

  It wasn’t until daylight angled through the half-open door that we really looked at the leggings and Explorer’s vests. We examined them as we sped across the country.

  “Look,” M.K. said, “there’s a tool set on mine.” She showed us a little flap on the front of her vest that concealed a complete miniature tool set. “And Dad put a bunch of utilities in these pockets. This one has a picture of a sleeping person on it. Wonder what that does.” She laid three more brass boxes out on the floor of the car and poked and prodded them. “I can’t figure out what they do, though.”

  There were a lot of buttons and flaps on M.K.’s vest, and she pressed them one after the other, trying them out. “Hey, what’s this?”

  “Ow!” Zander grabbed his right shoulder and we all looked up to see a small arrow embedded in the wall of the cargo car. “You shot me!”

  “It just nicked you,” M.K. said, inspecting a tiny wound on his upper arm. “Don’t be such a baby.”

  I checked my own vest. Aside from the shining brass compass embedded in the animal hide on the front, there was also a small pocket on the inside that contained a sextant, just like the little tool Dad had used for navigation. I opened another inside pocket and found a brass spyglass. “Look at this,” I told them. “It has ten degrees of magnification, like a really powerful set of binoculars!”

  “What do you think this is?” Zander asked us, holding up a small brass utility about the size of a pack of playing cards that he’d found in one of his pockets. He pushed a button on the box and a flame shot out of one end. A little fire started in the hay and he jumped on it to stamp it out. “That might come in handy,” he said. He held up another one, this one a bit larger, and when he pressed a button, a large piece of silver fabric, complete with zippers, shot out. “It’s a sleeping bag!” Zander said, delighted. “Thin but warm. And I think we each have a light on the vests. He thought of everything.” He reached over and pushed a button on the left shoulder of my vest. A light shone out into the train car, illuminating a large area in front of me.

  Zander also found a small hunting kit, containing a few arrows and a foldable bow, and we all found utilities in our pockets that we couldn’t quite figure out. We put some of them in the pockets on the leggings and left the rest in the vests.

  “We’ll be all right now,” M.K. said, settling back against a pile of boxes at one end of the car. “He knew we’d need the vests.”

  We were all quiet, thinking about Dad, wondering if this was what he had imagined when he’d hidden the gear in Raleigh’s closet. It was one of those moments when I missed him so much that I could feel the pain of it deep in my skin, like a hidden burn that wouldn’t ever go away. And somehow, Raleigh’s mention of our mother had seared a twin burn next to it. All the years of her absence, the way Dad’s eyes would cloud over when we asked him about her, it had all lodged there in my body and I felt something I’d let myself feel only a handful of times since he’d disappeared: pure, hot anger at him for leaving us.

  I looked around at the graffiti-covered walls of the cargo car; symbols and pictures that I knew had been left by rail riders who had used the empty cargo cars to move around the country. Soon after the invention of the ultra fast trains, Neo kids who didn’t have anywhere to live had started riding the empty cars, defending their turf with the long-handled
knives they carried.

  The train moved quickly across Pennsylvania and down through Virginia, Tennessee, and Arkansas, and then straight across the wide fields of Oklahoma. Outside the cargo car, the sun rose slowly and we could feel the air get hotter and more humid as we raced west across the country. We took off our sweaters and opened the door of the car a bit, but there wasn’t much of a breeze and it wasn’t long before we were drenched in sweat. Even Pucci looked miserable, his feathers bedraggled and limp. The cookies Raleigh had given us were gone by the time we crossed the Oklahoma border. I had visions of us starving to death and dying of thirst in the hot train as the train chugged on for hours and hours.

  We were speeding through a huge expanse of cornfields when all of a sudden, as the train slowed down around a bend, the door flew open and a Neo boy with spiky blue hair came crashing into the car.

  He hit the floor hard and when he looked up and saw Pucci, he grinned and said, “Hey, where am I, the zoo car?”

  “Funny,” Pucci squawked. “Very funny!”

  He sat up and we all stared. He wasn’t too much older than we were. He was a thin, wiry boy who looked five inches taller than he really was because of the blue spike of hair that stood up like the blade of a circular saw. He had a pile of chains around his neck and little flashing lights embedded in his ears and neck. When he grinned at us, we could see that the insides of his lips were pierced with the lights, too.

  “Whew. Hot in here. You got anything to drink?” Something about the way he said it put me on my guard.

  “No,” I said. “Wish we did.”

  “Ah. You’re thirsty, too? I’ve come down from the North myself. Didn’t know it would be so hot.” He studied us for a moment, his brown eyes wary. “You don’t look like the usual rail riders,” he said. “Not at all. You’re Archys, aren’t you? Where you ridin’ from?”