Zurita wished fervently she would not submerge. Then he saw people at the conning tower.
“Help! Murder! ” Zurita bawled at the top of his voice. They must have seen him on the submarine. Without reducing her speed she continued heading straight for the Jellyfish.
Armed sailors had poured out on deck and were now standing about, uncertain what to do. Surely they couldn’t kill Zurita within sight of the sub-naval by her looks too.
However, Zurita’s triumph was short-lived. On the submarine’s deck he spotted Baltasar and Cristo standing next to a tall man with an aggressive nose and the eyes of an eagle. The latter shouted;
“Pedro Zurita! You will immediately surrender Ichthyander whom you are keeping prisoner on board your schooner. I give you five minutes, after which time 111 sink her.”
The traitors, Zurita thought as he stared, bitter hatred in hiseyes, at Cristoand Baltasar, the God-damned traitors. But come to it I’d rather lose Ichthyanderthan my own head.
“Ill bring him up directly,” Zurita shouted, climbing down the shrouds.
His attackers had decided their own safety was in danger. Some of them hastily lowered boats from the davits, others jumped overboard and swam for the shore. It was every man for himself.
Zurita ran down the companion ladder to his cabin, snatched the pouch with pearls out of his chest, thrust it inside his shirt and took along a belt and a bandana. The next moment he unlocked Gutierrez’s cabin, gathered her up into his arms and carried her out on deck.
“Ichthyander’s a bit unwell. He’s in the cabin,” Zurita said as he put her into a boat, lowered it on the water and sprang in himself.
The submarine could not give the boat chase for the water was too shallow for her. But Gutierrez had already recognized Baltasar on her deck.
“Father, save Ichthyander! He’s-” but she could not finish, for Zurita gagged her with the bandana and started, hurriedly, tying her arms with the belt.
“Take your hands off the woman! ” Salvator ordered.
“This woman’s my wife and nobody’s a right to come between us,” Zurita shouted back and pulled away.
“Nobody’s a right to treat a woman in that way,” shouted Salvator. “Shipyour oars or shoot.“But Zurita went on rowing hard. Salvator levelled his revolver. The bullet hit the boat above the water-line.
Zurita picked Gutierrez up as a shield.
“Go on! ” he shouted.
Gutierrez was struggling in his arms.
“A prize scoundrel, he is! ” Salvator said and put down his revolver.
Baltasar jumped into the water and swam towards the boat. But Zurita was already far ahead. Another pull and a wave carried the boat ashore. Zurita picked Gutierrez up and disappeared behind an outcropping of rocks.
Seeing he could not overtake Zurita, Baltasar headed for the schooner and pulled himself aboard by the anchor chain. The next moment he disappeared down below, in search of Ichthyander. After sometime he came into view again.
“Ichthyander isn’t on board”! Baltasar shouted to Salvator. “But he’s alive and must be somewhere near,” said Cristo. “That’s at least what Gutierrez had time to tell us before that brute gagged her. Otherwise we’d know now where to look for him.”
Scanning the ocean’s surface Cristo saw a ship’s mast tops just showing abovethe water. He thought that Ichthyander could be down in that wreck.
“Perhaps Zurita had sent Ichthyander to look for treasures on board thatwreck?” said Cristo.
Baltasar picked up a chain with a band at one end to show them. “Looks like Zurita was lowering Ichthyander into the water chained to this thing. Without it he would have swum away. No, he can’t be on that ship.” “No,” Salvator said pensively. “We’ve licked Zurita but it’s a barren victory.”
THE SUNKEN SHIP
They had no way of knowing what had happened on board the Jellyfishthat morning.
All through the night the crew had put their heads together and by the morninga plot had been formed to attack and kill Zurita at the first opportunity and take possession of ship and diver.
Zurita was up and on the bridge with first light. The wind had let up and the Jellyfish slowly proceeded downwind at a couple of knots.
Then Zurita spotted a dim something ahead. Through his binoculars that something turned into the radiomasts of a sunken ship.
Presently Zurita noticed a life-buoy floating on the surface.
He ordered a boat on the water to pick it up.
When it was brought up to Zurita he saw, to his astonishment, the word Mafalda block-lettered on it.
“Mafalda sunk?” whistled Zurita. He knew that big American express liner.
There must be lots of valuable things on a ship like that, he thought. Suppose I send Ichthyander to get them. But will the chain be long enough? Hardly. On the other hand Ichthyander won’t come back if let away without it.
Zurita’s mind resembled a battle-ground where avarice and caution were struggling for the upper hand.
Slowly the Jellyfish was drawing nearer to the masts sticking out of the water.
The crew crowded at the rail. The wind dropped dead. The schooner came to a standstill.
“I once had my berth on the Mafalda,” said one of the sailors. “A good ship
she was. Big as a town. Rich Americans used to cruise on her.”
The Mafalda must have sunk without having radioed her SOS, Zurita was thinking. Perhaps her WT was out of order. Otherwise the place would have been lousy with launches, speedboats, yachts from all the neighbouring ports loaded with officials, reporters, cameramen, salvage crews and what not. He couldn’t throw away a chance like that, could he. He’d have to risk letting Ichthyander go without the chain. There was no other way. But how could he make Ichthyander come back? And if he must take a risk, why not take it sending Ichthyander for his ransom, his pile of pearls? But was it really all that valuable? Was Ichthyander not laying it on thick?
Of course he must get both treasures. The pile of pearls would stay where it was. Nobody could find it without Ichthyander’s help, and that made it safe as i long as Ichthyander was in his hands. As to the treasures on board the Mafalda,[ they would be beyond his reach in a matter of days, perhaps even hours.
And Zurita resolved to begin with the Mafalda. He ordered the anchor to be cast. Then he went below to his cabin, where he wrote a note and, with it in his hand, went across to the cabin occupied by Ichthyander.
“Can you read, Ichthyander? Here’s a note for you from Gutierrez”. Ichthyander quickly opened the note and read the following;
“Ichthyander, please do what I’m going to ask you. There’s a sunken ship near the Jellyfish. Go down and bring back everything valuable you can find there. Zurita will let you go without your chain but you must come back to the Jellyfish. Do this for me, Ichthyander, and you will soon regain your freedom. Gutierrez.”
Ichthyander had never before received any letters from Gutierrez, so he did not know her handwriting. For a moment he was happy to have received thenote but then it suddenly entered his head that it might be another trick of Zurita’s.
“Why doesn’t she ask for it in person?” Ichthyander said.
“She’s not quite well,” Zurita replied, “but you’ll see her as soon as you’re back.”
“What does she want with all those valuable things?” Ichthyander asked, still unconvinced.
“You wouldn’t have asked that if you had been a real man. Is there a woman who does not want to wear beautiful clothes and expensive jewellery? But that costs money. And there’s plenty of it in the sunken ship. It’s nobody’s now, why not get it for Gutierrez? What you must do first is find the gold pieces. Look for leather mail bags. Besides, the passengers might wear articles of gold, rings-“
“Do you imagine I’m going to search corpses?” Ichthyander said indignantly. “And then I don’t believe you. Gutierrez is not greedy, she could not have asked me to do a thing like that.”
“Carramba! “ Zurita exploded. He could see his scheme was about to fall through unless he tried some other tack. So he collected himself.
“You’re nobody’s fool, I can see,” he said with a good-humoured laugh. “Well, I’ll be frank with you. Here it is. It isn’t Gutierrez who wants the gold from the Mafalda but me. Can you believe that?”
Ichthyander couldn’t help smiling.
“Rather.”
“Fine. You’re beginning to believe me, that means we’re coming to an understanding. Yes, I need that gold. And if you bring me as much gold from the Mafalda as your pearls’re worth 111 let you go. The trouble is you don’t quite trust me, neither do I trust you. I’m afraid to let you go without your chain, for down you go and-If I give you my word to come back I’ll keep it.”
“So far I’ve had no chance to test that. You’re not exactly fond of me and I’d not be surprised if you didn’t keep your word. But you’re fond of Gutierrez and you’d do anything she asked you. Right? So I spoke to her and she was quick to see the point. Of course she wants me to let you go. That’s why she wrote the note and gave it to me, wishing to help you on the road to freedom. Is everything clear to you now?”
What Zurita had told Ichthyander seemed to him not only possible but virtually bearing the stamp of truth. The condition about the gold on the Mafalda being worth his pearls had escaped him.
Now to compare their worths, calculated Zurita, hell have to bring-and 111 insist on it-his pile on board my ship. Then I’ll have the Mafalda gold, the pile and Ichthyander himself all in my hands.
But Ichthyander had no way of knowing what was passing in Zurita’s mind. Zurita’s seeming frankness had won him over and Ichthyander, after a minute’s thought, agreed.
Zurita heaved a sigh of relief.
He won’t cheat me, he thought.
“Let’s go, quick! “
They both hurried up on deck and Ichthyander jumped straight overboard.
The crew, seeing Ichthyander jump overboard unchained, immediately realized he had gone for the Mafalda riches. The idea that Zurita was going to grab it all for himself goaded them into action.
Just as the sailors attacked Zurita, Ichthyander reached the upper deck of the wrecked ship.
Through a huge hatch and down a companion ladder that looked like the staircase of a big building, Ichthyander glided into a spacious alleyway. There it was dark. The only spots of faint light were some open doors along it.
Ichthyander swam through one of these doors and found himself in a lounge. The big portholes illumined dimly the huge hall, which could accommodate a few hundred people at a time. Ichthyander perched on the sumptuous centre chandelier and had a good look round. It was an eerie sight. All round him against the ceiling swayed chairs and small tables. A grand piano, its lid raised, stood on the small stage, cut into the expanse of soft-carpeted floor. Along one of the walls wainscotted in mahogany that was already warped in places, tubbed palms stretched in a row.
Ichthyander pushed off the chandelier and swam towards the palms. Suddenly he stopped dead: a man was swimming towards him, stopping short as Ichthyander did. A mirror, guessed the amphibian. The huge wall-to-wall mirror duplicated the hall in its dim reflection.
There were no treasures to be found here. Ichthyander swam out into the alleyway, went a deck lower and found himself in a hall, as well-appointed and big as the one above, apparently the restaurant. Scattered on the bar counters and near them were wine bottles, tins, cartons. Most bottles had the corks pushed in by the pressure of the water while some of the tins were almost flattened. Places were laid on the tables but most of the cutlery lay pell-mell on the floor.
Ichthyander headed for the cabins.
Swimming in and out he visited cabins that looked the last word in American comfort. They were all empty. Only in one cabin on the third deck he saw a swollen body, gently rocking near the ceiling.
The passengers must have had time to cast off in boats, he thought.
But down in Third Class, a terrible sight awaited him. The place was cluttered up with bodies of children and adults, men and women, white, Chinese, Blacks, Indians.
Obviously the ship’s crew had rushed to the rescue of the First-Class passengers, leaving the rest to fend for themselves. In the resulting stampede, people had pressed round the few exits, crushing each other to death, blocking the way up and to life for others. The doors of some of the cabins were blocked by corpses so that Ichthyander could not manage a look inside.
The water, coming through the open portholes into the long alleyway, gently rocked the bloated corpses. Ichthyander felt frightened and hurried out away from this underwater graveyard.
Surely Gutierrez didn’t know where she was sending me, thought Ichthyander. Surely she couldn’t possibly want me to pick the dead men’s pockets and rifle their trunks. Of course not. That meant he had again fallen into a trap of Zurita’s. So he resolved to come up and demand that Gutierrez come on deck and confirm her request.
Quick as a fish the young man went up through deck after deck until he was dear of the ship’s hull.
He surfaced and swam towards the Jellyfish.
“Ahoy, Zurita,” he called. “Gutierrez! “
There was no reply. The silent Jellyfish rocked on the waves.
Where have they all gone to? thought the amphibian. What’s Zurita up to now? Cautiously, Ichthyander swam towards the schooner and scrambled aboard.
“Hey, Gutierrez! ” he called again.
“Here we are,” he heard Zurita’s voice that barely reached him from offshore. Ichthyander looked round and saw Zurita, peeping from behind some bushes on the shore.
“Gutierrez’s taken ill. Swim over here, Ichthyander! ” he shouted. She was ill and he would see her. Ichthyander jumped overboard and swam quickly shorewards.
Ichthyander was already clear of the water when he heard Gutierrez’s muffled cry:
“He’s lying! Run, Ichthyander! “
The amphibian turned, dived and swam away underwater. When he had put quite a distance between himself and the shore he broke water and looked back. He could just make out something white fluttering on the shore.
Perhaps it was Gutierrez bidding him farewell. Would he ever see her again?
Quickly Ichthyander swam for the open sea, deserted but for a small vessel, low on the water, heading due south. She churned water open with her sharp bows, leaving behind a foamy wake.
Humans are best left to themselves, thought Ichthyander, and diving steeply, was lost in the sea.
PART
THE LONG-LOST FATHER
Ever since that unsuccessful trip on the submarine Baltasar had been in the blackest of moods.
“Damn the Whites! ” he was saying grumpily one afternoon, sitting all by himself in the shop. “They took our lands from us and made us their slaves. They maim our children and steal our daughters. They want to kill us off, down to the last babe-in-arms.”
“Hullo, brother”, he heard Cristo’s voice. “I’ve brought news. Big news. Ichthyander’s found.”
“What?! ” “Baltasar sprang up from his seat. “Well, go on, for heaven’s sake.”
“I’ll go on if you don’t chip in—if you do 111 forget something. He’s come back. I was right that time: he was on that wreck.”
“Where’s he now? At Salvator’s?”
“Yes.”
“Ill go to Salvator and demand my son back.”
“He won’t agree,” Cristo said. “And he forbids Ichthyander to swim out into the ocean. Sometimes I let him go though-“
“He will! 111 kill him if he won’t! Let’s go, straightway.”
Cristo waved his hands in alarm.
“Wait till tomorrow at least. I’d a hell of a job, I can tell you, getting permission to look up my granddaughter. He’s turned so suspicious. He sure sees right into your heart with them eyes of his. Put it off till tomorrow, I say.”
“All right. Let it be tomorrow. Today 111 g
o to the gulf. Perhaps I’ll be able to see my son, even if only from afar.”
All that afternoon and night Baltasar spent on a cliff over the gulf, peering into the waves. The sea was rough. The cold southerner blew in fierce gusts, carrying foam off wavetops and spraying the cliff with it. Surf pounded the shore. In and out of the racing clouds, the moon threw a fitful light on the waves. Try as he would Baltasar could spot nothing in the seething ocean. Dawn came and found him squatting stock-still on the cliff-top. Th» ocean was less sombre now but as empty as before.
Then Baltasar stirred. His keen eyes had espied a dark object, bobbing up and down on the waves. A man. Perhaps, a drowned man? No, the man was floating stretched out on his back, his hands behind his head. Could that be him?
Baltasar was not mistaken. It was Ichthyander.
The old man rose and, pressing his hands to his chest, shouted, “Ichthyander, my son! ” and lifting his arms above his head took a dive.
It was a deep dive and when he broke water the man was gone. Baltasar dived again but then a mammoth roller caught up with him, turned him, tossed him ashore and rolled back with a deep growl.
Baltasar rose, dripping, looked at the waves and sighed.
“Could I have imagined it?”
When the sun and wind had dried his clothes he went off to the great wall of Salvator’s estate and knocked on the steel gates.
“Who’s there?” a Black asked peeping at Baltasar through a half-open spy-hole.
“I want to see the doctor on urgent business.”
Alexander Beliaev Page 14
