Book One of the Travelers

by D. J. MacHale

  Spader could tell Frey was thinking it over. “And why would you do us such a favor?” Frey asked. “We killed all your mates.”

  Spader forced himself not to react, though he seethed inside. “I thought it would be fun to be an aquaneer. But there are too many rules. I’d rather be a raider.”

  “You never could handle real work,” Per spat. “It’s always a game to you. I knew this was how you’d turn out all along.”

  Spader strode across the room and slapped Per across the face. Then he whirled to train his pistol on the raiders again. “See why I want to help you?” he told Frey. “This guy has been a spinney-fish needle in my side through all of my time at the academy.”

  Frey gave Spader a long, thoughtful look. “Okay,” he said finally. “This could work.”

  “You do understand if we don’t trust you,” a voice said from the doorway.

  Spader turned and saw four raiders, each with a sleek speargun trained on him.

  “You’re not going to shoot me,” Spader said, hoping he was right. “You need me.”

  “True,” Frey said. “For now.” He deftly knocked a pistol out of Spader’s hand and kicked it toward Shax. Shax grabbed it, and he, too, aimed it at Spader.

  “You know anything about the navigational systems?” Frey asked Spader as he took Spader’s other gun. Spader knew there was no point in shooting—not with all those raiders in the doorway.

  Spader shook his head. “I’m a junior,” he said.

  “You mean with your fancy training at the academy you never learned how to pilot one of these?” Shax asked.

  Spader shrugged. “I was at the bottom of my class.” He saw Per’s mouth drop open. Uh-oh. Spader nodded toward Per. “So was he. But I’m slippery good in the water. I’d come in handy if you let me join you.”

  “Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t,” Frey said. “For now we want you out of our way until we need you.” He quickly tied Spader’s wrists to the built-in shelving unit. “We’ll worry about the systems in the morning. There’s got to be manuals up in the tower.”

  The raiders obviously didn’t know this particular vessel’s engineering. That meant they wouldn’t be under way anytime soon, giving Spader and Per a shot at the original plan to get to the other ship.

  The raiders left the cabin, shut the door, and locked it.

  “You slimy, low traitor,” Per said. “I knew you were no good.”

  “Shut up, Watsu,” Spader snapped. “We have to think fast. Before they get the ship running again.”

  “Are you crazy?” Per said. “I’m not—”

  “Think about it. I was free and clear. But I came back. To rescue your ungrateful hide.”

  Per stared at Spader. Gradually a look of comprehension came into his eyes.

  “Got it now, smart boy?” Spader asked sarcastically. “Thank me later. Now we’ve got to work on getting free.”

  Spader strained against the cords that held him. He had just what he needed in his boot, but he didn’t think he could reach it. He lifted his leg and bent down as far as he could, hoping he could grab his knife between his teeth, but no go.

  “Do you think you can wiggle that seat over here?” Spader said.

  “I can try.” Per wiggled on the chair, tipping forward and then back. He managed to jerk and wriggle his way across the room.

  Spader held up his leg. “My trusty is in my boot.”

  Per frowned. “Do you want me to get it out with my teeth?”

  Spader looked down at Per. “I guess you’ll have to turn around.”

  Per hopped the chair around till his back was to Spader. Spader lifted his foot and placed it where Per could reach it. “Okay, slip your hand in and feel for the knife. But I warn you—I’m ticklish!”

  Per pulled the knife from Spader’s boot. But there was a new problem. “How do we cut through the cords? Your hands are up too high, and mine are down too low—and both of us would have to do it blind.”

  “I think if you can get the knife into my hands,” Spader said, “I can cut my own cords.”

  Per stood as best he could, hunched over, with the chair sticking out from his rear. If their situation weren’t so dire, Spader would have laughed.

  Spader twisted and slid down as low as possible. “Lean over more,” Spader instructed. His fingers felt the blade. “One more inch,” Spader said. That did the trick. He grabbed the knife.

  “Whoa!” Per tipped over and landed with a clatter on the floor.

  Both boys froze.

  After a few moments, Spader let out a breath. No one was coming.

  “I guess I leaned over too far,” Per said, lying sideways on the ground.

  “The important thing is that it did the trick.” Spader worked on the cords. It was awkward sawing the knife back and forth with his hands tied and without being able to see what he was doing. But he finally frayed the cords enough to pull them apart.

  “Free!” he declared.

  “Get me up from here,” Per said from the floor.

  Spader cut through Per’s restraints and pulled the chair away as Per stood up.

  Spader tried the door. It was locked from the outside. No surprise there. “We need to find another way out.”

  Per didn’t respond.

  “You met the crew from Crasker. Do you know whose cabin this was?” Spader asked. “There might be something in the luggage that can help us.”

  Per just stared off into space. He looked sick.

  “Hobey, mate,” Spader declared. “We have this one shot at getting out of here. So snap out of it.”

  Per nodded several times as if Spader’s words were slowly making their way into his brain. “We may be able to get into the connector tubes.”

  “The what?”

  “There are tubes that run between all the decks. Some carry air, some carry water. Some do both. They run the systems, including stabilizing and powering. They all connect, that’s why they’re called connector tubes.”

  “And you think we can use them to get out?” Spader asked.

  “They’re big enough to crawl through, in case they need to be repaired,” Per said. “If the raiders aren’t going online until the morning, then we should be pretty safe.”

  “How do they work?” Spader asked.

  “Little doors raise and lower to let in or stop air and water, shutting off connections or opening them,” Per explained. “Sometimes it’s done automatically; sometimes by the connections controller crewman down in engineering.”

  Spader was impressed. Per was actually going to be useful after all. “So how do we find them, and more important, how do we get into them?”

  “You search the cabin for anything helpful,” Per suggested. “I’ll try to find the openings for the connectors. There should be one in this cabin because we’re at the spot where the corridor splits. Every change of direction has entry points.”

  They got to work. Spader pulled open drawers and bags. He dropped to the floor and discovered a small case under the bed. He pulled it out and found a manual, a flashlight, and what looked like a minilocator on a strap: a tiny version of the locating device used on the navigation board. He slipped it onto his wrist.

  “I found the connector, but I’m not sure how to get it open,” Per said.

  Spader joined Per in the closet. Per pointed above them. “There’s a cross-section there.” Then he pointed to the floor. “And there. So the question is, do we go up or do we go down?”

  “Up would take us to the deck. So I say down.”

  “One thing,” Per warned. “We don’t know what systems are still online. Or which they’ll get working again. If we’re in the tubes when the systems go on full power, we could get trapped. Or drown.”

  “Then we should hurry,” Spader said. He looked at the joint where the connector tubes came together. “This is what I helped Jofels repair during the storm.”

  Spader remembered that the trick had been to push and turn the valves simultaneous
ly. It came open easily.

  He and Per stared down into the dark tube. Per was right—it was just big enough to crawl through.

  Spader grabbed the flashlight. “Here we go.” He lowered himself into the tube.

  “I know this ship better than you do,” Per protested, dropping down after Spader. “I should lead.”

  “There’s no room in here to change position,” Spader argued. “Quit gobbing.”

  The bottom of the tube was wet, telling Spader that this tube had carried water that powered the systems.

  “We should head down to the next level at the first opportunity,” Per said. “We don’t want to overshoot the storage units.”

  “We haven’t gone far enough,” Spader said. He slid the door over the vertical tube and crawled over it.

  He heard Per grumble behind him, but Spader kept going.

  They came to a dead end. The only directions to go in were up or down. No more horizontals.

  “I told you we’d overshoot,” Per said. “We’re at the outer connector.”

  “Where does this one lead?” Spader asked. He really should have let Per lead. Per had already proven he knew a lot more about the way the ship was constructed. It dawned on Spader that just because he didn’t like Per didn’t mean he shouldn’t listen to him. From now on, he vowed, he’d at least consider Per’s suggestions.

  “We’re at the outer shell of the ship. We won’t be able to access anything from here. It will lead to the hatch that opens directly to the water, to allow it in and out.”

  Suddenly the unmistakable sound of the ship coming back online made Spader’s body tense.

  “Oh no!” Per gasped. “The systems are warming up. Any minute now, the water is going to start rushing around these pipes.”

  “No time to head back,” Spader said, sounding calmer than he felt. “We’ve just got to get to the hatch and out into the water.”

  Spader lowered himself into the vertical tube. By pressing his back against one side and his feet against the other he was able to walk-slide down the tube. His foot scraped against something in the wall.

  The hatch leading outside!

  Spader took in a deep breath, then popped open the hatch. They were in luck! This hatch was above the waterline! He remembered from training that depending on load, the vessels sat higher or lower on the water, so there were hatches accommodating the changing equalization.

  “We’re okay!” he called up to Per. “We’re above the water!”

  Spader dropped out of the hatch, twisting midair and diving neatly into the water.

  Per splashed into the water nearby.

  Spader gazed up at the ship. Water poured out of the hatch. “We got out just in time,” he said.

  “Save your breath,” Per said. “We have a ways to go. Without globes or sleds.”

  Spader guessed the distance between the two vessels was about twice the length of the training canal at the academy. Tough, but possible.

  The water was cold and rough. Spader took long, even strokes, wanting to move cleanly through the waves, needing to conserve energy for the distance he’d have to cover. His body gradually warmed up with the exertion, making the water temperature more bearable.

  The sky was changing. At dawn they’d become more visible. All Spader could do was swim harder and faster and hope that the raiders weren’t looking for them. Yet.

  The disabled raider’s vessel was growing larger; they were almost there. Just a few more strokes, a few more kicks. Spader repeated those words in his head over and over and over. Every muscle in Spader’s body felt like rubber. He was having trouble coordinating his legs with his arms, his arms with his breathing. But finally, finally, Spader’s water-wrinkled fingers touched the hull.

  Spader scrambled up the ladder. He was just too tired to swim around to the other side. He knew he’d be fully visible to the raiders, but he didn’t care.

  Per climbed up right behind him. They lay panting on the deck.

  “We made it,” Spader murmured. He shut his eyes and felt the deck supporting him.

  “Th-That was tough,” Per said, his breath coming in gasps.

  Spader knew they should try to get the ship up and running. He knew they should go below, where they wouldn’t be seen once the sun had risen completely, before the raiders discovered they had escaped. He knew all that, but his body just wasn’t going to cooperate. Not yet.

  “I—I guess we should check out the instruments,” Per said.

  Spader groaned. “Hobey, mate. Let’s honor this moment. We survived. The plan worked.”

  “But it’s not over yet,” Per pointed out.

  “You really do know how to bring a fella down, don’tcha?” Spader rolled over and pushed himself up. “All right. Time to get back to the plan.”

  “Which is what, exactly?” Per asked.

  “Wait them out. They get our previous vessel back online while we secretly get this one working again. Then they sail off to the horizon, and we sail off in the exact opposite direction.”

  “And what if we can’t get this vessel working?”

  Spader frowned. That was a puzzler.

  Per’s expression suddenly brightened. “Windworks! This is the exact same ship as the one we worked on when we were assigned alt-power maintenance.”

  Spader nodded. “Could work. It will take a lot longer to get anywhere, but at least we’ve got a plan.”

  He pulled himself to his feet, then immediately ducked back down. “Now we have to come up with Plan B.”

  “Why?” Per asked, his eyes widening.

  “Because we’ve got raiders heading straight here on water skimmers.”

  THIRTEEN

  They’re coming after us!” Per said.

  “Maybe…,” Spader said. “They could just be coming over here to pick up supplies.”

  “Either way,” Per said, “it’s a real tum-tigger.”

  “We’ll have to fight them off,” Spader said.

  “With what weapons?” Per asked. “They probably took them all with them. Maybe we can get under way and outrun them.”

  “On alt power? Are you crazy?”

  Now it was Per’s turn to demand, “You have a better idea?”

  Spader opened and then shut his mouth. He had promised himself to listen to Per. Certainly on anything regarding the ship’s inner workings.

  “Our chances of surviving are a lot better if they don’t get aboard,” Per added. “You with me on this?”

  “I’m with you.” They dashed to the center of the deck and popped open the hatch where the mainmast was stored. Spader locked eyes with Per and gave a sharp nod. “Now!”

  They hoisted the mast. Spader knew the moment it was vertical they’d become targets. He just had to hope they could get out of range quickly.

  If Per and I die, then the raiders win, Spader thought. I won’t let that happen.

  He flashed mentally to the image of the dead pilot. The dead navigator. Clayton. Fury sent energy coursing through his veins, made his exhausted, depleted muscles push harder. The mast snapped into place.

  “I’ll tether this,” Spader said. “You get the other hatch open.”

  Per raced to the other hatch while Spader ran the sail up the stand, then raced to the back of the boat and tied it off. The sail ballooned out, catching the strong wind. This might work! Good for Per!

  Boom! The window in the pilot’s tower shattered.

  “They’ve seen us!” Per cried.

  “Keep at it!” Spader ordered.

  Spader hurried to the rail, staying low. He had to tie off another line to secure the sails on the mainmast. He lashed the line to the cleat, then risked a look across the water. The raiders were getting closer. His eyes raised to the vessel, and his heart jumped into his throat.

  A line of raiders stood at the rail of the Grallion transport ship, each of them armed. Worse, there was a raider on the ship’s deck manning a small water cannon, designed to deliver the deadly, powerful
water missiles.

  “Faster!” Spader yelled. He dashed to the bow, where Per struggled to raise the foresail. With only the mast sails raised, the vessel wouldn’t be stable. They’d tip with each wave and every gust of wind.

  “We’ve got to get balanced!” Spader said, clutching the strut holding the bottom of the sail.

  “I know!” Per cried.

  Spader heard a shrill whine. He pushed Per’s head down. “Duck!”

  Another missile slammed into the tower, shattering glass and spurting water.

  “They must think we’ve got a pilot up in the tower. They’re following their usual pattern,” Spader said. “That could help us. It’ll keep ’em busy.”

  Per worked the pulley system that raised the sail. Done! The two sails were in place.

  Boom! A water missile hit the front sail, ripping a hole right through it, spraying the deck with water. The force caused the line to release from the tip of the bowsprit—the pole that stuck out over the water from the bow. Spader grabbed the line before it unhitched completely.

  “They’re targeting the sails!” Per shouted above the wind.

  “I can see that. But we’re moving!”

  “We’ve got to get that front sail back in place,” Per called.

  “I’m on it. You work the main sail.”

  Per crawled to the center of the vessel as Spader crawled along the bowsprit. He could hear the sound of rapid fire. The raiders had stopped launching water missiles and were using their rifles and handheld launchers.

  Spader took the line in his teeth and clung with his hands and knees to the long shaky pole. He inched out over the rough water, feeling the spray in his face. The ship was moving, which was great, but the waters were choppy, and until they were stabilized, the ship could tip over. Getting equilibrium without the usual systems was touch-and-go under the best of circumstances, Spader knew. Trying to do it while under fire, well, this was new territory.

  Spader felt the breeze of water bullets whizzing by just above his head. He kept going. He had to tie off this line.