The Floating Island (45 page)

The Superintendent, although he
would not admit it, was in an agony of anxiety. He was in a false position, for
his whole mind was occupied in displeasing nobody
—
a
sure means of displeasing everybody.

On the 12th of March, Floating
Island was approaching the Equator, although it had not reached the latitude in
which it would meet the ships sent from Madeleine Bay. It would not be long
before they did so, but apparently the elections would take place beforehand,
as they were fixed for the 15th.

Meanwhile the Starboardites and
Larboardites took to forecasting the result. Always the same promise of
equality. No majority was possible, unless some voters would change sides. And
the voters remained as firm as the teeth in a tiger’s jaw.

Then arose a genial idea. It
seemed to have occurred at the same moment to the minds of all. This idea was
simple, it was an honourable one, it would put an end to the rivalry. The
candidates themselves would doubtless bow to this just solution.

Why not offer the government of
Floating Island to the King of Malecarlie? The ex-sovereign was a wise man, of
firm and liberal mind. His toleration and his philosophy would be the best
guarantee against the surprises of the future. He knew men from having lived
amongst them. He knew that he had to reckon with their weaknesses and their
ingratitude. Ambition was not his failing, and never would the thought occur to
him to substitute the personal power for the democratic institutions which
existed on Floating Island. He would never be more than the president of the
council of administration of the new company,
Tankerdon,
Coverley
& Co,

An important group of merchants
and functionaries of Milliard City, with whom were a certain number of the
officers and sailors at the ports, decided to convey this proposal to their
royal fellow-citizen.

It was in the room on the ground
floor of the house in Thirty-ninth Avenue that their Majesties received the
deputation. They listened with friendliness, and answered with a decided
refusal. The deposed sovereigns remembered the past, and under this impression
the King replied,
—

“I thank you, gentlemen. We are
not insensible to your request, but we are happy at present, and we hope that
nothing will trouble our future. Believe me, we have finished with the
illusions that are inherent to any sovereignty whatever. I am now only an
astronomer at the observatory of Floating Island, and I do not wish to be
anything else.”

There was no opportunity to
persist, after so formal a reply, and the deputation retired.

During the few days preceding the
election the excitement increased. It was impossible to arrive at an
understanding. The partisans of Jem Tankerdon and Nat Coverley avoided meeting
each other, even in the streets. People no longer went from one section to the
other. Neither the Starboardites nor the Larboardites crossed First Avenue.
Milliard City was now formed into two hostile camps. The only personage who
went from one to the other, agitated, crushed, knocked up, perspiring water and
blood, exhausting himself in good advice, repulsed to the right, repulsed to
the left, was the despairing Superintendent, Calistus Munbar. And three or four
times a day he ran aground, like a rudderless ship, in the rooms of the casino,
where the quartette overwhelmed him with vain consolations.

Commodore Simcoe confined himself
to his special duties. He navigated Floating Island according to the itinerary.
Having a holy horror of politics, he would accept whatever governor was given
him. His officers, like those of Colonel Stewart, were quite as little
interested in the question which had set so many heads on the boil. It was not
in Floating Island that pronunciamentos were to be feared.

However, the council of notables,
in permanent session at the town hall, discussed and disputed. They were taking
to personalities. The police were compelled to take certain precautions, for
the crowd thronged from morning to night in front of the town hall, and raised
seditious cries.

On the other hand, deplorable
news got abroad. Walter Tankerdon had called at the Coverley mansion, and not
been admitted. The two young people were forbidden to see one another, and as
the marriage had not been celebrated before the attack of the New Hebridean
bands, who dared say if it ever would be accomplished?

At last the 15th of March
arrived. The election was to take place in the principal room of the town-hall.
A noisy crowd blocked the square, as the Roman populace formerly did before the
palace of the Quirinal, when the conclave proceeded to the elevation of a Pope
to the throne of Saint Peter.

What would come out of this supreme
deliberation? The forecast showed that there would be an equality of votes. If
the Starboardites remained faithful to Nat Coverley and the Larboardites to Jem
Tankerdon, what would happen?

The great day arrived. Between
one and three o’clock the ordinary life seemed to be suspended on Floating
Island. From five to six thousand people stood excited beneath the windows of
the municipal edifice. They awaited the result of the voting of the notables
—
a result which
would be immediately communicated by telephone to the two sections and the two
ports.

A first scrutiny took place at
thirty-five minutes past one.

The candidates had obtained the
same number of suffrages.

An hour afterwards there was a
second scrutiny.

It in no way modified the figures
of the first.

At thirty-five minutes past three
there was the third and last scrutiny.

This time neither had a vote in
excess of the other.

The council then separated, and
it was best to do so. If it had remained sitting, the members would have become
so exasperated that they would have taken to blows. As they crossed the square
on their way, some of them to the Tankerdon mansion, and some to the Coverley
mansion, the crowd greeted them with the most disagreeable murmurs.

But it was necessary to put an
end to this state of affairs, which was most damaging to the interests of
Floating Island.

“Between ourselves,” said
Pinchinat, when they had heard from the Superintendent the result of the three
scrutinies, “it seems that there is a very simple way of settling the question.”

“And what is that?” asked
Calistus Munbar, lifting his arms in despair to heaven. “What?”

“Cut the island in half; divide
it into two equal parts, like a cake; let the two halves go on as they please,
each with a governor of its own!”

“Cut our island in half!” gasped
the Superintendent, as if Pinchinat had proposed to cut off a limb.

“With a cold chisel, a mallet,
and a screw-wrench, the question would be solved, and there would be two moving
islands instead of one on the surface of the Pacific Ocean.”

Pinchinat could never be serious,
even when circumstances were of such gravity.

His advice was not accepted
—
at least in a
material sense; but if there were no mallet and screw-wrench, if no division
was made down the middle of First Avenue from Prow Battery to Stern Battery,
the separation was none the less accomplished from a political point of view.
The Larboardites and Starboardites had become as much strangers to each other
as if a hundred leagues of sea separated them. In fact, the thirty notables had
decided to vote separately in default of an understanding. On one side, Jem
Tankerdon was appointed governor of his section, and he could govern it as he
pleased. On the other, Nat Coverley was appointed governor of his section, and
he could govern it as he pleased. Each of them would keep his port, his ships,
his officers, his sailors, his militiamen, his functionaries, his tradesmen,
his electrical works, his engines, his motors, his engineers, his stokers.

This was very well, but what
would Commodore Simcoe do when he wanted to turn, and how could Calistus Munbar
perform his duties to the common satisfaction?

As regards the latter, it is
true, it was not of much importance. His place had become a sinecure. There
could be no question as to amusements and festivities when Floating Island was
menaced by civil war
—
for
a reconciliation was not possible.

This was evident from a single
indication. On the 17th of March the newspapers announced that the marriage between
Walter Tankerdon and Miss Coverley was definitely broken off.

Yes! Broken off
—
in spite of their
prayers, in spite of their supplications; and yet Calistus Munbar had once said
that love was the strongest! Well, no! Walter and Di would not separate. They
would abandon their relatives; they would marry in some foreign country; they
would find a corner in the world where they could be happy without so many
millions hanging round their hearts!

After the nomination of Jem
Tankerdon and Nat Coverley, nothing had been changed with regard to the course
of Floating Island. Commodore Simcoe continued to steer north-east. Once they
reached Madeleine Bay, it was probable, if the present state of things
continued, that several of the Milliardites would seek on the Continent the
quiet which was no longer offered them by the Pearl of the Pacific. Perhaps
even Floating Island would be abandoned. And then they would liquidate it; they
would put it up to auction; they would sell it at so much a pound, like old and
useless iron, and it would be melted down!

But the five thousand miles it
had to travel would take another five months to accomplish. During the voyage
would the direction be interfered with by the obstinacy of the two chiefs? The
spirit of revolt had begun to show itself among the people. Would the Larboardites
and Starboardites come to blows, and take to firing on each other, and bathing
with blood the steel sidewalks of Milliard City?

No! The parties would not,
apparently, go to these extremities. There would not be another secession war
between north and south, or rather between the Larboard and Starboard sections
of Floating Island. But the inevitable happened, at the risk of provoking a
catastrophe.

In the morning of the 19th of
March, Commodore Simcoe was in his office at the observatory, waiting for the
first observation of altitude to be communicated to him. In his opinion
Floating Island could not be far from the spat where it would meet with the
supply ships. Look-outs on the tower surveyed the vast circuit of sea, so as to
signal the steamers as soon as they appeared on the horizon. With the Commodore
were the King of Malecarlie, Colonel Stewart, Sebastien Zorn, Pinchinat,
Frascolin, Yvernès, and a few officers and functionaries
—
who might all be classed as neutrals,
for they had not yet taken part in the intestine dissensions. The essential
point for them was to arrive as soon as possible at Madeleine Bay, where this
deplorable state of things would end.

At this moment two bells sounded,
and two orders were transmitted to the Commodore by telephone. They came from
the town hall, where Jem Tankerdon and Nat Coverley, with their respective
supporters, were in different wings. Here they administered Floating Island,
and we need not be astonished at the orders being contradictory.

This very morning the two
governors had resolved to disagree regarding the course hitherto followed by
Ethel Simcoe. Nat Coverley had decided that Floating Island should go
north-east, so as to touch at the Gilbert Islands. Jem Tankerdon, with the
object of opening up commercial relations, decided to go south-west, towards
Australia.

Thus had the rivals committed
themselves, and their friends had sworn to support them.

When he received the two orders
sent simultaneously to the observatory, the Commodore remarked,
—

“This is what I feared.”

“And which must not last, in the
public interest,” said the King of Malecarlie.

“What do you decide?” asked
Frascolin.

“I am curious to see how you will
manœuvre,” said Pinchinat.

“Inform Jem Tankerdon and Nat
Coverley,” said the Commodore, “that we cannot execute their orders, as they
contradict each other. Besides, it is better for Floating Island to remain
where it is, and wait for the ships which are to meet it here.”

This very wise reply was
immediately telephoned to the town hall.

An hour passed without the
observatory receiving any other orders. Probably the two governors had given up
their intentions.

Suddenly Floating Island began to
move in a strange manner. What did this movement indicate? That Jem Tankerdon
and Nat Coverley had persisted in their obstinacy to the furthest limits.

All the persons present looked at
each other interrogatively.

“What is the matter? What is the
matter?”

“What is the matter?” answered
the Commodore, shrugging his shoulders; “Jem Tankerdon has sent his orders
direct to Watson, the engineer at Larboard Harbour, and Nat Coverley has sent
contradictory orders to Somwah, the engineer at Starboard Harbour. One has
given orders to go north-east, the other to go southwest. The result is that
Floating Island is swinging round on its centre, and the gyration will last as
long as the caprice of these two obstinate personages.”

“Well!” said Pinchinat. “This
ought to end in a waltz! Athanase Dorémus might as well resign. The
Milliardites do not want his lessons!”

This absurd situation
—
comic from one
point of view
—
probably caused a laugh. Unfortunately the double manœuvre was extremely
dangerous, as the Commodore observed. Driven round and round by six million
horsepower, Floating Island was in danger of being shaken to pieces.

In fact, the engines were going
full speed, the screws working at their maximum power, and the steel subsoil
was all of a tremble. The motion became more noticeable. Floating Island
pirouetted on its centre. The park, the country described concentric circles,
and the places on the shore swung round at from ten to twelve miles an hour.