The Emperor of Mars

by Patrick Samphire

  Cautiously, I unlocked the door and swung it open.

  The room was empty. I checked behind the door, then under the bed and in the wardrobe.

  Hellfire! Where was she? There was nowhere else she could hide. The porthole was latched from the inside. The door had been locked all night. But she just wasn’t here.

  I groaned. I was an idiot! How long had I known my sister? And I’d thought a locked door would slow her down?

  I don’t need you, she’d said. I had been leaving her out of everything I’d been doing since we’d come to Lunae City. I’d been so determined to find something I actually wanted to do for myself that I hadn’t thought what Putty would think. I’d just assumed she would come to me before she did anything stupid.

  Not this time. This time she’d decided to go off on her own, just like I’d been doing.

  She must have gone after Dr. Blood to get her dragon’s egg back. She was going to get herself killed. It was madness, and it was my fault.

  She would have set out as soon as she knew everyone else was in bed. She could have six or seven hours’ lead. There wasn’t a moment to waste.

  I dashed out of her room. And ran straight into Mr. Davidson.

  “Edward!” my tutor said, grabbing me by the arms. “There you are! I haven’t slept all night.”

  His small, pinched face looked frantic and his cravat hung loose from his neck.

  “Sorry to hear it,” I said, trying to free my arms. “But this isn’t a good time.”

  “It can’t wait! Have you enjoyed your lessons?”

  I stared at him. Enjoyed? Was he mad? Survived, just about, but enjoyed? I’d rather be eaten by a flock of Xanthean cockroach bats.

  “Er … Well…” I managed to get one arm loose. I gestured toward the drawing room. “I have to—”

  “I fear they are about to come to an end,” Mr. Davidson said.

  “What are?”

  “Tell me, Edward, if you were going to get married—”

  “I’m not getting married.” Why was he talking about this? I didn’t have time.

  “But if you were—indulge me—would you believe that you had to be honest—completely honest—with the woman you intended to ask to marry you, or do you think that some lies are the better choice if they might turn your intended against you, that some secrets should be kept forever because they are so terrible?”

  I peered past him. Every minute we wasted, Putty was getting further away. “Um … Be honest, I suppose? Is this a test?”

  Mr. Davidson let out a long breath, as though he’d been holding it inside all night. “I … I think you are right. We must be honest, no matter the consequences, or a marriage cannot be true.”

  “Well, I’m glad we cleared that one up. Now, I’m kind of in a hurry.”

  He spun and headed for the drawing room. I scurried along behind him, trying to squeeze past. The ship was still leaning to port, where it was jammed up on the sandbank, and getting past Mr. Davidson, who had his arms out for balance, was impossible.

  “Wait!” I said, but he wasn’t listening. He was mumbling under his breath, fidgeting agitatedly as he hurried along.

  “Come on,” I muttered. “Come on!”

  No. I didn’t have time for this. Putty didn’t have time. I shoved past. Mr. Davidson lost his footing on the sloping floor. His hand shot out and grabbed my jacket. We both collapsed in a tangle against the wall. Mr. Davidson gave me an astonished look, and then he was off again before I regained my balance.

  I swore and raced after him. I didn’t know what he was up to, but Mr. Davidson could waste time like no one I’d ever met. I caught up with him just as he swung the drawing room door open and strode in.

  Everyone else was already there. Everyone except Putty. Papa and Rackham were bent over schematics of the ship, while Mama, Jane, and Miss Wilkins were whispering together in one corner. Olivia was reading a book, but she looked up with the rest as we burst in almost together.

  “Something’s happened—” I started, but Mr. Davidson rode straight over me.

  “I can wait no longer!” he said.

  Everyone stared at him.

  Papa removed his glasses and polished them on one sleeve. “Whatever is the matter, Mr. Davidson?”

  “It is your daughter, sir.”

  Papa frowned. “Parthenia? What has she done now?”

  “Parthenia?” Mr. Davidson said, temporarily stumped. He glanced around the room. “No, sir. Your oldest daughter.”

  He hurried across the drawing room and dropped to his knees before Jane. Her eyes widened in shock.

  “No! Mr. Davidson…”

  “Please. Allow me.”

  “Please don’t.”

  “I have adored you since I first set eyes upon you, Miss Sullivan! You are the most beautiful young lady I have ever encountered, but I told myself—I forced myself—not to act. You could never feel the same for me, and it would be a terrible betrayal of the trust your worthy father put in me. And the scandal, the shame, to be brought upon your family. It was not to be borne.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Olivia muttered.

  “But now…” He leaped to his feet again. “Now I see the only thing that matches your beauty is your intelligence. You have astonished me, and I can hold it back no longer. I know you cannot share my feelings, and I know that I can only bring you embarrassment, but there is nothing I can do. You have overwhelmed all my self-restraint and propriety.”

  “The tutor?” Mama demanded. “Jane!”

  Jane was already out of her seat. Her face was as red as a Lunae Planum sunset.

  “Mr. Davidson. I do not—”

  Mr. Davidson raised a hand. “Miss Sullivan. You must allow me. I am not yet done. Edward has convinced me that I must tell you everything.”

  “I really didn’t,” I said, but no one was paying any attention.

  “There is something I wish to ask you,” Mr. Davidson continued. “But first, the truth. You will hate me, all of you, but Edward is right. Without the truth, there can be nothing.”

  “Maybe later,” I interrupted. “I’ve actually got something important to tell everyone.”

  “Be quiet, Edward!” Mama barked. “What is this truth, Mr. Davidson?” Her eyes widened. “Are you perhaps not what you seemed? Are you a viscount in disguise, fled from Napoleon’s vicious hordes?”

  “And I thought it was Jane who read all those terrible novels,” Olivia said.

  Mr. Davidson’s face twisted into pain. “No, madam, I am not. I am the son of a clerk. But I am a man whose ability has been unrecognized for too long. I was the one with the talent, but it was others who ascended to wealth and fame.” His voice rose and his face reddened. “All because they had the right connections. I was ignored! Overlooked because my family was poor.” He cleared his throat. “I fear … I fear that my resentment led me to make choices that I wish now—I wish with all my heart—that I had not made.” He turned to me. “Are you absolutely sure about this, Edward?”

  “No,” I said. “Absolutely not. Whatever it is. No.”

  He wasn’t listening. He closed his eyes and straightened further. “I … I am a spy.”

  “For … the British-Martian Intelligence Service?” Papa said. He looked as confused as I did when he tried to explain his inventions to me.

  “No, sir. I…” Mr. Davidson licked his lips. “I am in the pay of Emperor Napoleon.”

  20

  Chasing Putty

  The room erupted into noise. Mr. Davidson stood there, as unmoving as a statue. Papa leaped from his chair to face my tutor.

  “It was you!” I said, starting toward him. “You were the one who broke into Papa’s study. You were the one who sent up that automatic courier when we were fighting the sea serpent.”

  He nodded mutely.

  Papa’s voice was cold. “And what did you steal from me, sir?”

  “The plans for your water abacus,” Mr. Davidson whispered. “I took them from
your safe and put them in the automatic courier.” His voice sounded scratchy, as though he’d been drinking sand. “Napoleon’s agent in Lunae City will have received them by now. They will be on their way back to Earth.”

  “And there’s nothing we can do to stop them,” Rackham ground out. “I should shoot you where you stand.”

  “Napoleon will integrate the water abacus into his machines of war,” Papa said. “It is a hundred times more potent than the brain of any automatic servant. He has turned his gaze upon Mars, and you, sir, may have given him the means to invade.”

  I pushed to the front. “Papa,” I said loudly. “This doesn’t matter right now.”

  Finally they noticed me. Papa’s eyebrows shot up. “It doesn’t?”

  “No. Eight months, you said, until Napoleon could even try to invade. That’s something to worry about another day.” And, hopefully, for someone else to worry about. “We have a problem right now.”

  “We do?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you,” I said. “Putty is missing!”

  Papa shook his head. “What do you mean, Edward?”

  “She’s not in her room. I shut her in last night because I knew she was going to do something stupid, but she got out. She’s gone.”

  “I don’t understand,” Mama said. “Where would Parthenia go? We are in the middle of the desert.”

  “She’s gone after Dr. Blood,” I said. “She’s gone to get her dragon’s egg back.”

  * * *

  I waited until Rackham had locked Mr. Davidson in his brig before I shared the whole story. It wasn’t fun. No one said anything, but I knew what they were thinking: This was my fault.

  And they weren’t wrong.

  I had put my little sister into danger. My voice was grim as I told of how I’d trusted Mina. How I’d let her rob Lady Harleston and keep the key cylinder, and how Putty and I had chased after Dr. Blood. At every single stage, I’d made the wrong decision, and now Putty was gone, and Dr. Blood would kill her.

  There was a horrible silence when I finished.

  “Well, how far can she have gone?” Mama said, her voice brittle with forced cheer. “She is a child. You must get out there and search for her.”

  “She took the crawler,” Rackham said. “I checked. She could be miles away. There’s no point just searching the desert.”

  Mama drew herself up. “Do you mean to abandon her, sir?”

  “Of course not. But we can’t simply plunge off into the desert and hope to find her. Even if the crawler has left tracks, there will be patches of rock and scree and we’ll lose the trail. We have to know where she has gone.”

  Everyone turned to look at me.

  “How should I know?” I said.

  “Think, Edward,” Papa said. “You’ve been with Parthenia throughout this. Where would she go?”

  She would go wherever Dr. Blood was, of course. But where was that? Putty would figure it out. She was far cleverer than I was. But I had exactly the same information she did. I should be able to figure it out, too. Think!

  “We followed Dr. Blood north from Lunae City,” I said slowly, “across the Martian Nile toward the desert. Do you have a map?”

  Rackham retrieved one and laid it out on the table. The Martian Nile ran almost due north until it reached Lunae City, where it swung northeast and finally east to the ocean. I traced my finger from Lunae City, cutting across the river at an oblique angle then past the rich fields, and finally to the fragmented mesas beyond. The map showed a tangle of small valleys.

  “He’s got a lot of equipment,” I said slowly. “His airship, and the tunneling machine, and he must have somewhere for his men to stay.” I shook my head. “This is too close to Lunae City. The Imperial Martian airship flies into Lunae City every day. He couldn’t risk being seen, and these valleys are too small.”

  I ran my finger further up the map. “Here.” The mesas lifted higher, fracturing into true mountains above the desert. A line of them ran parallel to the Martian Nile for several miles before breaking away north. I looked up.

  “This is where he would hide. No one would come across him by chance, and it’s not too far from the city or the Martian Nile.”

  Rackham peered at the map. “We could search for a month and not find your sister there. It would take us weeks just to find Dr. Blood’s encampment.”

  It wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t smart enough. I lowered my head into my hands.

  “Putty wouldn’t just launch herself into the desert,” Olivia said. “Not if she really wanted something. She knows exactly where Dr. Blood is.”

  “Of course she does,” I said. “She’s a genius, just like the rest of you. Me?” I spread my hands. “I’m lost.”

  “Then try to think like her.” Olivia’s fingers were tight on the edge of the table. “Come on, Edward. You know Putty better than any of us. How would she work it out?”

  I stared down at the map. It was a mess. Valleys and broken rock everywhere. She could have gone anywhere. How was anyone supposed to know where Dr. Blood had gone? He’d been in a little flier when we’d chased him, and he’d been picked up by his airship. It was an airship designed to harvest the air forests of Patagonian Mars. The mountains there were higher than anything on Lunae Planum. It could go anywhere.

  I stared at the map, despairing.

  Whatever Putty had seen, I wasn’t smart enough to follow.

  Except …

  Dr. Blood might have been in an airship when we chased him from Lunae City, but when he’d come to pick up Mina and the dragon’s egg, he’d been in a tunneling machine. I’d seen it come up out of the sand and lie there on the desert. Out in the open, it had been ungainly and slow. There was no way it could crawl over rocks or up the sides of mountains.

  I squinted closer at the map, trying to make sense of the markings.

  “Where are we?” I said.

  Rackham pointed to the bank of the Martian Nile about thirty miles from Lunae City. I peered closer. The desert stretched several miles in great, sweeping dunes, all the way to the mesas. The sand would be easy for the tunneling machine, but then it would have to stop. Unless it had a way through. Quickly, I scanned the map, picking out the valleys that cut into the high rocks.

  Only half a dozen were large enough and deep enough to have filled with desert sand.

  And only one zigzagged its way to the great mountains.

  “There.” I jabbed my finger onto the map. “She’s gone that way.”

  Rackham followed where I was pointing. “That’s got to be ten or twelve miles. The crawler can manage it, but on foot?” He shook his head. “It would be murder.”

  “We’ve done it before,” I said, although that had been less—more like seven or eight miles—and over broken stone, not sand.

  “Then we’ll go tonight, when the heat’s lessened,” Rackham said. “Only those of us who are fit and strong. The rest will wait here.”

  “No,” I said. By tonight, Putty would have reached Dr. Blood’s camp. “We go now.”

  “We can’t walk into the desert in the heat of the day,” Rackham said.

  “Watch me. If you don’t want to come, stay behind.”

  He looked at me coolly, then nodded. “Very well. Until you’re all safe, I haven’t kept my promise to your cousin nor paid my debt to him.”

  “I am coming, too,” Papa said. “Do not argue, sir. Parthenia is my daughter, and I have a score to settle with Archibald Simmons.”

  “Then let’s gather weapons and supplies,” Rackham said. “We leave in twenty minutes. And God help us, for I fear no one else can.”

  * * *

  At home, back at Valles Marineris, with a good path or road and a hard hike, we could have made twelve miles in four hours, even allowing for Papa having to stop for rests. Out here on the Lunae Planum it was a different matter. Although it was early autumn, the heat burned down like a furnace. Within seconds I was sweating, and every step felt like
I was carrying a basket of rocks on my back. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on the shade from buildings, the thin cloths stretched between them, and the cooling breeze from the river to make the day manageable in Lunae City. Here there was only the red desert radiating the heat back up at us.

  Soft sand slipped away beneath our feet. Saber-toothed spiders lunged at our shoes from their little sand lairs, their fangs leaving sharp holes in the leather. Up above, shark kites slowly circled, looking for prey on the desert below. I was almost certain we were too big for them. Almost.

  The only thing that kept me placing one foot in front of another was the knowledge that Putty was out there somewhere, in danger, and it was my fault.

  Even so, by two o’clock Papa was stumbling and weaving and we were making less and less progress. In the last half hour, we’d scarcely made a hundred yards.

  Rackham dropped down in the shade of a high dune.

  “We rest,” he said, pulling off his backpack. “We’ll be no use to your sister if we collapse out here.”

  I bit my lip in frustration, but he was right. The day was only going to get hotter, and we weren’t going to make it. Using a couple of backpacks and Rackham’s rifle, we turned a sheet into a shelter against the sun and waited for the heat to fade.

  Dr. Blood had only let us live because he thought we were no threat to him. Next time we might not be so lucky. But he already had Rothan Gal, and by now he could have Putty, too.

  Lying there in the desert, hiding from the sun, was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. Every minute we lay there, unmoving, was a minute we weren’t rescuing her.

  I wondered if Mina would do anything to protect Putty, then cursed myself for being so stupid. Mina hadn’t cared for Putty or me, no matter how much she’d pretended to. She was a thief, and she’d only stuck around long enough to get hold of the cylinder key and the dragon’s egg, then she’d left us out in the desert. She was Dr. Blood’s daughter, and all she cared about was helping him with his lunatic plan. She was as much the enemy as he was. The fact that I’d fallen for her didn’t change that.