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The Perils of Archipelago Page 12
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“I see little else we can do than what we are currently undertaking,” Rob answered. “We have alliances with Isle de James and Fallen Dome. We now have a trained militia with professional mercenaries in support. As soon as Pete comes back with the Punishers, we’ll have even more proven fighters on our side. We’re continuing to build our defenses around the island and, presuming the Falcons don’t attempt an invasion during the rainy season, the walls should be completed before any attack.”
“Are we certain they will invade?” Raymond asked.
Rob hesitated a moment before saying, “No, we can’t be certain of anything at the moment.”
“Then what do you intend to do now?” Shipley asked.
“The rains are upon us. We will continue to train our island militia, build our defenses, and wait.”
“Wait?” McClain asked.
“I don’t see what else can be done right now,” Rob said.
Murmuring spread through the courtroom. Rob remained standing, facing the council, even as voices of dissent and agreement sounded from all around him. Dare he look to see who was speaking? While not at all prone to gossip, what was Doctor Morris doing? Rob imagined he was, perhaps, attempting to signal him in some way.
Shipley brought his gavel down to bring order to the courtroom.
“Mister Engleman, do you feel that it would be wise to make some effort to discover the Falcons’ intentions? A foray on Alimia, perhaps, to discover what preparations, if any, they are making for an invasion?”
“I don’t advise, nor would I lead such a foray for intelligence, given the current weather conditions. It should be the first action we take once the storms have passed for the season.”
McClain started to ask another question but was stopped by another councilman. The two whispered together for a moment before Rob interrupted.
“Gentlemen, I can appreciate your concern with invasion, however, no good will come from second-guessing ourselves. We are committed to this war and will defend our island wherever and however we can. I promise you we are doing everything we can to ensure that we remain free and independent.”
“Thank you, Mister Engleman. You have proven worthy of the trust your brother engendered with us,” Shipley said, then he looked at Raymond Jones. “Perhaps more so, even, than he was able to, given the time he had.”
“Thank you, sir,” Rob said with a smile that refused to be hidden. “Thank you all, councilmen.”
Shipley continued, “Now, we will hear a report on the grain harvest from Misters Burton and Massoud.”
Rob made way for the representatives of the farmers’ guild and to Doctor Morris’s corner as he did. The old man smiled a welcome at his student and shifted to allow Rob to find space in the corner with him.
“It’s been a few days since we last spoke,” Rob said. “I’m sorry for that.”
“Much has happened in the last few days. I am not offended that your responsibilities have taken you elsewhere. Rather, I’m glad you survived this last ordeal. It sounds like it was especially dangerous.”
Rob shrugged, acting humble, though for the first time in a long while, he felt pride in himself.
Morris added, “You gave a fine report and excellent advice to the council just now.”
“You know, there was a moment, when we were trapped by the Quillian in the Sea of Grass, that I heard your voice in my head, talking to me—giving me advice.”
“Did you follow it?”
Rob laughed, “Yes, of course.”
“Then I’m glad to have helped save you from the Quillian.”
After a moment of silence between them, Morris continued.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, if on your next voyage, you might be headed back to Fallen Dome or Aruth?”
“Now that you mention it, I would like to return to Aruth to follow up on Baron Eric’s pledge of support. Assuming Pete is able to secure more black powder for us, we’ll need more hand cannons.”
“I should like to join you, if perhaps you were making a stop at Hellhound Isle,” Morris said in an almost apologetic tone.
“I think that could be arranged. However, you should know that I still haven’t figured out how to open that door. I don’t know what more can be learned from the Duarve House without getting in there. I suppose we could try to blast it open with some powder, though the thought makes me cringe.”
“I have been putting a lot of thought into that conundrum as well. I believe I have a solution. However, before you ask me what it is, I can’t really explain it without some visual aids.”
A half hour later, the two were in the small lounge of Doctor Morris’s home. Rob sat, soaking his bread crusts in a bowl of vegetable soup while waiting for Morris to gather his teaching materials. The old man was as excited to share what he had discovered as he had been in the ruins of K’ork-eatop.
Morris brought out a slate and drew a circle with a piece of chalk, as he explained his idea, he added points around the circle.
“You remember the globe at K’ork-eatop, yes?” he asked Rob.
Rob nodded. “Of course.”
“The colored dots around that globe,” Morris said, pointing at the dots he’d drawn. Rob ascertained that the circle represented the world; the dots were the satellites.
Morris continued, “The power satellites distribute electricity to various parts of the world. This is what powered all the Duarve equipment and the flying machine. If fully functional, the network of satellites would ensure that nowhere on the planet would be without electrical power. However, the network is not fully functional. This is why the flying machine lost power as we neared Forgotten Isle. I suspect that we flew outside of its zone of radiation, or it passed too far away to affect the machine. Perhaps a combination of both.”
Rob understood the concept—it was review for him. Morris had first presented the idea after their rescue from Forgotten Isle.
“I don’t see how this applies to the Duarve House,” he said. “I had to apply electricity directly to the wires of the first door to open it. When we tried that to the second door, it didn’t open. Perhaps there’s a manual lock.”
Morris smiled, “I think you didn’t use the keyhole.”
Rob puzzled this before saying, “We didn’t apply the electricity correctly.”
“That’s right. Now, here’s where we come back to the satellites. They have orbits.” Morris laughed as if he’d told a joke. “I can’t believe it took me so long to think of that.”
“An orbit means it rotates around the planet?” Rob said. He was as unsure of the term as he now was of Morris’s emotions.
Morris moved about the room as if mindlessly rehearsing a dance. “Exactly! I read in a history book that our ancestors on Earth had thousands upon thousands of satellites. They had so many that they sometimes crashed into each other.”
“I don’t get why that’s funny.”
“Rob! How could they have crashed into each other if they didn’t move? Like the moon itself, they orbited Earth. Like these power satellites of our friends, the ancient Duarve, they move!”
“So, we wait for one to come over Hellhound Isle, and the door should open?”
“Not without our help, of course. We have to input the correct code. From what I remember of your description, the first door had been damaged, which allowed you to bypass the panel and apply Edwin’s stun stick to the wires. The second door won’t open like that because it’s intact. We will need the code, but that shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.”
“Not too hard? Doctor, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. From what I remember about your lessons on codes, there could be thousands of possibilities.”
“Yes, well I figure I’ll have plenty of time to try them all. You’ll drop me off on Hellhound and be gone for several weeks.”
“Sure, but the satellite won’t be in orbit that entire time. As you said, they move.”
“I’ve already done the calculations based on our exp
erience with the last one. It passes often enough. Besides, having it pass on is good. I tend to get hyperfocused and forget to eat or sleep. This will force me to do those.”
Rob chuckled and shook his head. “You are really excited for this. I wish I could stay there and help you.”
“You’ll see it all when you come back for me. I expect I will need some help noting and cataloging the artifacts we find inside . . . but I wanted to say, I haven’t given you the credit you deserve for taking over from your brother. To be honest, I doubted your ability to lead and fight. I was too arrogant to remember that you are a fast learner. You’ve done well, from all I’ve seen and heard. My congratulations to you.”
“I think, perhaps, I’ve come to reconcile being a divided person. I mean, that I’m always torn in my desires. I want to explore the world, but that doesn’t work when I also want to defend my people. I want to be with the ones I love, yet circumstances take them away from me.”
“Life requires sacrifice. I remember a time when—”
A loud knock sounded at the door. Morris opened it to find Brandt Engleman there.
“Pardon me, Doctor Morris, but I’m looking for Rob. Is he here?”
“Damitall!” Rob said, and he leaped to his feet. “I’m sorry, sir. I forgot. My sister is getting married this evening. I have to go.”
He burst out the door so quickly that he nearly bowled over his younger brother. Morris called after the two of them as they ran. “My congratulations to the bride and groom!”
Rob and Brandt set off at a jaunty pace down the dirt road toward the Engleman farm. With the rains, fresh green hacklebush shoots sprouted from the dark soil. The wind brought a brackish smell from the sea. It was a familiar experience, this walk from Harrisville to home, and yet it felt odd at the same time.
Rob looked over at his younger brother, not quite sixteen, but nearly as tall as himself. His features were close to Mark’s. The same eyes and nose, just younger looking.
Rob stopped in his tracks, which prompted Brandt to do the same.
“What’s wrong?” Brandt asked.
“Let’s race for home.”
Brandt’s face scrunched itself in bewilderment at the suggestion. But before he could question it, Rob sprinted off. Brandt was not about to turn down a challenge, even if it came from the most unexpected source.
The last light of the day shined upon the Engleman farm before sinking behind the north pinnacle of Engle Isle. Into that light came Lisette Engleman, wearing a new dress, her hair adorned with flowers, and a bouquet in her hands. Perhaps she just reflected the sunlight, or perhaps she glowed with happiness, but all present were in awe of her as her father escorted her across the garden.
John Cooper stood near the Reverend Matriarch with Rob to support him (literally, should his legs give out). Rather than wear his Fallen Dome militia uniform, John had a new tunic made. It was handsome and ordinary, like that of any other farmer on the island, save for a patch on the left shoulder. There, a small hellhound, matching that on the Entdecker’s sails, was carefully embroidered.
Lisette nearly ran to him, beaming the largest smile Rob had ever seen her make. He understood now why she had insisted on the wedding being performed that day. She had already put it off longer than tradition dictated while waiting for himself, Mark, and Anna to return. Her sorrow at Mark’s death was only compounded further by Anna’s self-imposed exile. In fact, as Rob had noted earlier, she was not present even though Lisette had personally made the invitation.
No, the wedding had to happen now, even with the next storm of the season bearing down on them and without the presence of Pete and Edwin. Lisette and John had waited long enough, and to tempt fate into deepening their sorrow with the absence of loved ones was sheer folly. Not even Roger and Alphina, who cuddled together near the back of the garden, had waited this long to tie the knot.
The ceremony was brief, the food delicious, and the dancing long into the night. Indeed, even as raindrops began wetting the hair of the attendees, they continued their celebrations. It was the defiance of Engle Islanders at its best.
13: Even a Drowned Rat Hound
Edwin awoke and, for a moment, forgot where he was. His mind saw the inside of the hut on Fishhook Isle, but the gentle sway of the hammock disagreed. No, Fishhook was behind him, and he was on to more important matters. At least, his body had moved on. His dreams dwelt on the tanned, mostly naked Fishhook natives and their ridiculous lives on that island. Edwin came to realize they had no real culture. The strong picked on the weak, the inept begged for scraps from the capable. None of them attempted self-improvement unless shown the benefits ahead of time. They could not understand their plight of ignorance as it was exactly what kept them from understanding. Three months he spent among them, trying to teach them to be more civilized, to not just kill every animal they came upon (unless it was a lizard), and to stop eating the toadstool.
After all that time, there were only a few who made any progress. Perhaps it was the rain that made it so miserable. The storms made cook fires impossible unless covered by a sturdy canopy. Only three of the huts were in any way water-resistant, so Edwin ordered them to improve the others. Fresh trees were cut and used to create a large communal pavilion. He showed them how to weave the leaf fronds of a fan bush together to make a type of thatch. Their first attempt collapsed in the next storm. Edwin got it back up once the Anna Louisa arrived and his crew could assist them. Duncan, as it turned out, had some experience in construction and became invaluable in the improvement efforts. Twenty huts were renovated and nearly as many new structures were built.
The goats became precious commodities once the natives learned to steep the toadstool in their milk. James tried his hand at making cheese, but this only brought him frustration and the natives something to laugh at. This prompted Edwin to hunt down and collect every bit of toadstool he could find. He knew he couldn’t get it all. In fact, the rain seemed to make it spread even more. New sprouts appeared each night it rained, which was nearly all of them.
By the end of their extended stay, the Anna Louisa’s hold reeked with the smell of more than two tons of toadstool. Eugene joked but seemed genuinely relieved that the odor didn’t cause the same hallucinogenic effects as eating it did.
When the storms frequented them less and then subsided altogether, Edwin announced his departure. Many broke into sobs, begging him to stay. He’d already broken several hearts and offended a few prominent elders of the community by refusing to marry one of them. To make matters worse, he also announced that Ches would be leaving as well.
Ches had survived his ordeal with the lizard venom, but his recovery was slow. His hand became paralyzed for weeks, causing men like Louie to comment about how it should have been amputated. Then one night, to everyone’s amazement and Edwin’s relief, Ches transferred a knife from his good hand to his bad one. The action was performed so casually that no one realized what he’d done until he repeated it. While he still did not have full use of the hand, it restored the lost confidence in Edwin. Even Louie was humbled.
Ches’s own progress toward civilization was markedly the best out of all the natives. He was the only man among them who quit eating the toadstool. In doing so, he suffered withdrawals for nearly three weeks, but out of loyalty for his king, the man who had saved him, he did not falter. He even began to learn proper speech, emulating Edwin’s Engle, at least while speaking to him and the other foreigners.
Several young boys pleaded for the chance to accompany Edwin on his next voyage. He felt it only proper for Ches to decide which. A young man called Ian, who they guessed to be about twelve years old, became the cabin boy of the Anna Louisa. He gloated about being selected over the other boys until the second day at sea, when a combination of seasickness and withdrawals from the toadstool took their toll on him. With Ches to care for him, Ian began to emerge from his stupor.
Edwin knew that, with time away, his mind would become occupied with more urgen
t obligations, yet for the time being, the memories pulling at his thoughts and constant dreaming about being back on Fishhook Isle was torture. He was elated coming into Port James, though the stop there to deliver their new crop of toadstool to Kenneth Franklin remained brief. From there, they sailed through the night to the north coast for Port Jim. This northern port town on Isle de James was as large as Port Edward on Copper Isle; however, it lacked the busy energy of Port James or Fallen Dome City.
“Look there!” Eugene said with obvious excitement.
In two consecutive berths bobbed two Falcon-made ships. They were damaged by both storms and battle but floated proudly among the various vessels at the docks. From their topmasts, matching pennants bearing the heraldic hellhound fluttered in the breeze.
James began waving to Trina, who stood at the aft gunwale of the Old Man, but Edwin stopped him.
“We have to pretend we don’t know them. Whatever Falcon spies might be out here, we cannot let them know we are associated with the consortium.”
Edwin let his eyes look up to Trina. She had noticed them also, and while she smiled, there was no other hint of recognition. Edwin returned the smile. If they were back, it meant that Pete had been successful in his mission to retrieve the Punishers. The consortium stood a chance against a Falcon invasion of Engle Isle with Edward and his men on their side.
The Anna Louisa nestled into place near the eastern-most end of the port. Ches and Ian marveled, much the same way Edwin himself once had, at the number of people and the magnificent buildings everywhere around them.
“Ches, you and Ian stay on the ship, er, big canoe. Eugene will arrange for supplies to be brought aboard. You can help stow it,” Edwin said, though he wondered how much of it Ches understood. He realized that the two Fishhook natives didn’t just need to learn a new accent, but an almost entirely new set of vocabulary. How could Edwin teach them about a world they had no words to describe? At that moment, he wished Rob or Doctor Morris were with them.