Mariah Mundi and the Ship of Fools (17 page)

‘What was this man like?’ Charity asked.

‘I don’t know if I should tell – after all, you could be thieves and stealing what’s not yours, wanting to know your victim,’ the woman said. Her corset heaved like the creaking timbers of a sailing ship about to strike a reef. ‘And I a woman alone …’ she went on, her voice faded.

‘It is of no consequence, Madame. I am the assistant of the Marquis Lyon DeFeaux, the owner of the
Triton
, and in this case is a bomb,’ Vikash spoke as if he talked about the price of bread.

‘Bomb? Did you say bomb?’ the woman stuttered.

‘The man – what was he like?’ pressed Charity as the woman fell back against the doors.

‘Old … a beard, spectacles, a top hat … beady eyes … he was French,’ the woman said as she stared at Charity. ‘Is it really a bomb?’

Vikash casually opened the lid of the case to expose the clock and the explosive.

‘With enough explosive to blow you from your corset,’ he said as the woman swooned to the floor.

‘An unusual way of informing the passengers there is a bomb on the ship,’ quipped Charity as the lift stopped suddenly and the doors opened automatically in the crowded restaurant.

‘What shall we do with her?’ Vikash asked as they stepped over the woman and left her in the elevator.

The woman got to her knees and looked as if she had just been beaten. ‘Bomb!’ she screamed. ‘They have a bomb.’

The room was silent. A waiter turned and, seeing Vikash and Charity carrying the case, dropped a tray of champagne.

The woman shrieked the warning again.

‘Did you hear that? They have a bomb …’ said a man by the door.

Vikash was about to explain when Charity spoke.

‘It’s stopped ticking,’ he said in disbelief as he opened the lid of the case. He could see the phial of mercury was clouding. It had lost its shimmer and had turned dark brown. Vapour poured from a small cylinder as acid dripped inside the tube. ‘We have been tricked, Vikash. Quickly …’

‘GET DOWN!’ screamed Vikash as they ran to the door that led on to the top deck.

Vikash kicked at the door – it burst open. The night was cold and still. Charity stumbled … the case fell. Vikash grabbed the handle. With all his might he threw the bomb …

The night sky burned brightly as the
Triton
shuddered in the blast of the bomb – then all was still again.

T
HE paddle steamer sailed silently into the night. It had no silhouette as the moon had set in the sea. The ocean slopped icily against the side of the steamer and the engines churned with the monotonous drone of the paddles.

Inside the cabin behind the bridge, Biba DeFeaux stood next to Mariah. She had been found and dragged from the hold to the bridge. Cartaphilus sat in his chair, feet on the black stove and arms folded. Behind him, two of the crew looked on. Biba picked at the strands of fur on her coat.

‘How much do you think you are worth to your father?’ Cartaphilus asked as she sobbed. ‘Stupid thing, getting in the lifeboat – you deserve all you get.’

Biba couldn’t speak. She gulped back her tears angrily.

‘You’ve got the gold, isn’t that enough?’ Mariah asked as he put his arm around her.

‘Gold is never enough, Mariah. I have promised the crew a larger share for their loyalty. I can’t go back on my word, and I have a partner who will take half of the money if not more. This will be for me.’

‘But you can’t just kidnap us,’ he replied.

‘I could have you killed instead – would that suit you?’ Cartaphilus asked with a laugh. He turned to Biba. ‘I intend to contact your father and tell him that I have you and ask him for a million dollars for your return or else I will send you to him piece by piece.’

Biba sobbed even more. Vikash was not here to protect her. She felt alone.

‘He said he would never pay a ransom,’ she sobbed. ‘Told me that if I was ever kidnapped that would be it. His empire is worth more than family – that’s what he said.’

She held tight to Mariah’s coat as if it were all she had.

‘Then you better pray that he changes his mind. There is a bomb on the
Triton
that will be exploded – I am sure he will pay for that information as well as his daughter,’ Cartaphilus said without any sentiment. ‘Take them to the brig and make sure they don’t get out.’

‘But how will you tell him? The
Triton
is far ahead and unmatchable in speed,’ Mariah asked.

‘We don’t work alone in this – it will be as I have said. The
Carasbandra
may look like a rotting hulk, but she can keep pace with the
Triton
– especially if the wonderful Zane Generator should be in difficulty.’

‘Sabotage?’ asked Mariah.

‘I would prefer not to use such a word,’ replied Cartaphilus. ‘I have lived so long that I have made many friends.’

Biba and Mariah were dragged from the cabin and taken to the brig. The cold night air cut at their skin. It was as if the breeze was tinged with sharp steel and blew like unseen daggers about them.

‘Not good, this,’ said one of the men as he pointed to the north. ‘Sky shouldn’t be like that – never seen a green sky in the dead of night.’

The other man just grunted in reply as they dragged their
captives below deck and along the passageway past the galley.

The men locked the door of the brig and Biba and Mariah were left in the gloom of the dim, smoking whale-lamp. Mariah pressed his ear to the door and listened for the men. Their footsteps echoed as they climbed the metal stairs back to the deck.

‘We will have to escape,’ he said urgently when he was sure they had gone.

‘How? Don’t you realise we are on a ship in the middle of the ocean?’ she snapped.

‘As soon as Charity realises I have gone and your father finds the note they will come looking for us. I am sure of it. The
Triton
could ram this ship out of the water. Cartaphilus would have to give you up – he could trade you for the gold,’ Mariah said quickly. ‘It has to be that way. We have to get out of here and hide in the ship.’

‘He said there was a spy on the
Triton
– and a bomb,’ Biba said.

‘More reason to escape,’ replied Mariah. He checked the flare gun deep in the pocket of his thick coat. Without speaking, he then took the other pistol from his pocket and pointed it at the door. ‘Stand to the wall and cover your face …’

‘You have a gun?’ asked Biba, surprised.

‘I have two. They never thought to search me,’ he said.

Mariah pulled the trigger of the pistol. There was a bright flash as the flame shot from the gun. The lock burst open and fell from the door as it opened. Mariah cautiously looked outside the brig. The corridor was empty.

‘Where shall we hide?’ Biba asked as she tried to rub the burst of the flash from her eyes.

‘It will soon be dawn. We have to make them believe we have jumped overboard. I think I know what to do,’ Mariah said. He took hold of Biba’s hand and led her from the cell. ‘We can put
a lifeboat over the side of the ship and throw our coats in the water. I’ll set off a flare and then we hide.’

Biba raised an unconvinced eyebrow. ‘Not my coat,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t.’

‘It has to look real if you want to live, Biba,’ Mariah replied as they walked towards the metal stairs that led to the deck.

Mariah opened the hatch and stepped outside. It was even colder than before. The drone of the engines seemed louder and the beat of the giant paddles heavier. The night was black like velvet. The moon had gone and the dawn was still far off. To the north was a green glow slit across the horizon like a knife. It appeared that the world was changing, that some force was secretly at work. Mariah looked out to sea. In the faint glow, Biba saw his face change.

‘It’s Greenland,’ she said as if she could read his mind. ‘Lorenzo Zane was experimenting with the Isbrae glacier. He was trying to make power from the ice and all I know is that something went wrong.’

‘What was he trying to do?’ he asked.

‘An experiment,’ she whispered. ‘He would fire a cannon packed with silver dust into the clouds. He told my mother he was trying to make lightning to power the shipyard. The sky turned green and glowed at night. Mother said that it got worse night by night. Zane would tell her in the letters he wrote,’ Biba said as if she hated to say his name.

‘Can’t understand why he would mess with things like that. It could kill us all,’ Mariah replied.

‘There are worse things than that. My father told him to stop his experiments but he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I would hear my parents arguing about him,’ Biba said quietly.

Mariah walked the narrow boards between the gunwales and the cargo of whale oil stored on deck. Biba followed at a distance,
tripping on her coat. When they were at the lifeboat Mariah didn’t hesitate. Working alone he undid the rope and pushed the boat over the side.

‘When I tell you, throw your coat into the sea,’ he said.

‘No – never!’ Biba said as she pulled the fur coat defiantly about her.

Mariah slipped the rope through his hands as the boat fell to the water.

‘All I have to do is release this catch,’ he said as his cold fingers fumbled with a brass catch at the end of the rope.

‘YOU!’ shouted a voice from the darkness.

A pistol shot flew above their heads.

Mariah shouted, ‘Get down!’

The shots came again and again from the darkness. Mariah took the flare gun from his pocket and calmly slipped a thick shell into the breach. A shot came again, splintering the wood by his head. Mariah saw a faint shadow standing far away on the cargo deck. He aimed the flare gun and fired. There was a blinding explosion as the gun jolted back and fell from his hand. The flare bounced across the deck, igniting everything it touched. It smashed into a barrel of whale oil, cracking it open. Then it rose up in the air, deflected by the barrel, and set fire to the half sail that hung windless in the night. The cloth burst into flame, tearing open and falling to the deck. Like hot tallow, the whale oil exploded in a cloud of fire and black smoke.

Shots rang out from the other side of the flames. A bullet knocked Mariah to the deck.

‘Mariah!’ screamed Biba as she ran to him.

Mariah lay motionless. He was without breath. His face was white, his eyes wide open. Biba looked at him and thought he was dead. A shot rang out again from somewhere near. It smashed into the deck rail, blasting shards of wood into the air. Biba rummaged in Mariah’s coat as a man jumped from the
blazing cargo deck and walked towards her. She found a shell for the flare gun. Picking up the pistol, she broke open the barrel, loaded the cartridge, aimed and then fired.

Just as before, the flare burst from the pistol and shot through the air. It bounced once on the deck, setting fire to the whale oil. The flare bounced just as the man took aim and smashed into his chest, knocking him from his feet. He stumbled backwards, tipped over the rail and fell screaming to the cold, dark sea.

‘Who taught you to shoot?’ Mariah gasped as he looked at Biba.

‘You were shot – I saw you hit by the bullet,’ she replied as if she spoke to a ghost.

‘Spiderweb,’ Mariah said as he pulled the slug from the fibres of his coat. ‘Bulletproof.’

There was a large explosion that lit the night sky, sending a ball of fire towards the heavens. Barrels of kerosene blew from the ship, set on fire by the pool of whale oil that seeped across the deck. From the far side of the flames, they could hear the screams of the crew as they jumped from the ship.

Cartaphilus stood on the bridge screaming for them to stop.

‘Mariah Mundi, I will kill you for this! I have walked the earth and always had my way. I shall not be stopped by a lad like you.’

Mariah could see him looking down at them. Cartaphilus shook his fist as he ranted and screamed. He looked like a demon burning in hell. His hair blew wildly as the firestorm burned his ship. He clung to the iron railings as he shouted damnation upon them.

‘The lifeboat,’ Mariah said as he got to his feet. ‘Inside, now!’

Biba jumped into the boat as Mariah struggled with the brass latch.

‘It’s no use,’ he said as he took the pistol from his pocket and fired at the lock.

Biba didn’t have time to speak. The lifeboat broke free and fell safely to the water. It was soon clear of the
Carasbandra
. The ship paddled on, its large water-wheels churning the sea as the deck burned and kerosene barrels exploded into the air like fireworks.

Mariah climbed onto the deck rail and looked to the water below. Seeing the lifeboat in the distance he knew he could make if he jumped now. But just as he closed his eyes and leant forward towards the sea, a hand grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him back.

‘Don’t think you’ll get away that easily,’ Cartaphilus said as he threw Mariah to the floor. ‘Captains and killers go down with the ship and the only difference between you and I is that Cartaphilus will survive no matter what.’

‘You’ll drown like the rest of them if you don’t go now,’ Mariah said, scrambling backwards away from him.

‘You still don’t know who I am, do you?’ Cartaphilus said smugly. ‘What is death to me but a temporary inconvenience?’

He grabbed Mariah by the coat and threw him towards the flames. It was as if Mariah were but a rag doll to be played with however Cartaphilus wished. He crashed to the deck, winded by the blow. Then Mariah slipped his hand inside his coat, pulled out the pistol given to him by Charity, slipped back the catch and fired. Cartaphilus was jolted by the shot and for a moment staggered back. He wiped his hand across the front of his blood-stained shirt and pulled it open to expose the wound.

Mariah could not believe what he saw. The bullet had passed through the ribs and into the heart – of that he was sure. In the burning light, Mariah could see the wound. Cartaphilus rubbed the wound again and it was gone.

‘It can’t be,’ Mariah said in disbelief.

‘I will not take the time to explain. I am weary of this existence and hope beyond hope that you could kill me, to free me from the drudgery of this life,’ Cartaphilus said as he sat down next to Mariah. ‘Go, leave me here. You have earned your freedom. You are a brave lad, Mariah Mundi, and I no longer have the strength to kill you for the sake of it. Too many deaths add to the weight of my judgement. I fear one more will be too much for me.’

Cartaphilus panted like an old dog. His hair was stuck to his face. His beard was singed by the flames of the inferno.

‘Who are you?’ Mariah asked.

‘A wandering Aramean,’ he replied with a sigh and a cough. ‘That is all you need to know. I will meet with you again, that is for sure … Now go. Take the lifeboat and look out for a man called Markesan …’

For a moment Mariah stared him eye to eye. He was not sure if it was the reflection of the raging flames or something with-in Cartaphilus that shone so brightly in the man’s eyes. It was as if he had seen the world and knew the desires of all hearts.

‘Come with me,’ Mariah said as he got to his feet and ran to the front of the ship.

‘I stay to be with my gold. I would just bring a curse on you, Mariah,’ Cartaphilus said as he crawled towards a hatch that led below.

Cartaphilus slipped from sight. The ship burned and lit the night sky as it steamed on.

Mariah unhooked the lifeboat. Once inside, he let it fall to the water. The ropes were pulled from the boat as the churning paddles of the burning
Carasbandra
crashed towards him, the water boiling and bubbling in the steaming wake. The paddles turned faster as he looked up at the gigantic steel palms that smashed against the sea and drove the ship on.

Just as they were about to strike, the ship veered to port. A
blade of the paddle crashed into the sea, narrowly missing the lifeboat. Mariah looked up. There on the bridge, surrounded by smoke and flames, was Cartaphilus. He had turned the ship away from Mariah, saving his life. As the lifeboat slipped from sight, Cartaphilus looked down and raised his hand.

The ship steamed on into the night. It burnt even brighter as the drone of the engine was suddenly stilled. Mariah watched the fate of the
Carasbandra
from the lifeboat. A vast explosion ripped out the belly of the ship and threw wood and metal high into the air. The sky burnt with a crimson glow as blast followed blast. It shimmered the still, cold water and trembled the air. The flames burnt brightly as the steam engine burst open and hissed and wailed like a dying vixen.