The Pilgrims of Rayne (21 page)

The next few days were busy
ones. While Dodger worked his shifts at the hotel, Courtney did all she could to track down Mark. She made dozens of phone calls to different city offices, trying to find the former tenant of 240 Waverly Place, apartment #4A. She tried the housing authority, moving companies, the police department, the fire department, banks, the phone company, and even the US Patent Office again. The answer was always the same. “We can't help you.” It was frustrating because she had to do so much legwork just to get to a place where somebody would tell her to “forget it.” There was no Internet. She couldn't leave messages on anyone's answering machine because those wouldn't be invented for another fifty years. She went back to scouring newspapers for information about Mark Dimond or the Dimond Alpha Digital Organization or even KEM Limited.

Two days before the
Queen Mary
was scheduled to sail, she found something. It was a small item in the
New York Times
about a British company called “Keaton Electrical Marvels, Ltd.” They announced plans to manufacture a new, portable phonograph machine. Courtney wasn't even sure what that was. She
had to go back to Macy's to learn it was a device that played records. The only records Courtney had ever seen were vintage albums that her parents never played anymore. But in 1937, phonographs were popular. The design made by KEM Limited was touted as being incredibly innovative, with the ability to store energy in batteries that would allow the phonograph to be played for short periods without being plugged in. The article made it sound as if this were an amazing scientific breakthrough. Of course to Courtney, it seemed about as amazing as a flashlight, but knowing that KEM Limited was involved in electronic technology made sense. She realized a company like that might be able to take Mark's invention and actually do something with it.

The pieces of the puzzle were coming together.

However, on November 6, the day before the
Queen Mary
would leave, Courtney was no closer to finding Mark than she had been on November 2. It was looking more and more like the only way they would be able to stop him would be to intercept him at the ship itself. She took the train back to Stony Brook, where she put Bobby's latest journal in the safe-deposit box. She had no idea what to expect the next day, but she knew that one way or another, things would happen. She wanted the journals to be safe. Her last stop of the day was at Macy's, where she replaced her floppy cap that she'd lost in the sinking taxicab. She also bought Dodger a new brown fedora. She liked that it made him look like Indiana Jones. A short Indiana Jones, but still. She hoped he'd have the same luck as the fictional character.

She barely slept that night. She knew her mission on First Earth would end the next day. Either she would prevent Mark from getting on that ship, or she would fail, and history would play out the way the computers of Third Earth said it would. She vowed not to let that happen.

The next morning was sunny and warm for November. The
Queen Mary
was scheduled to leave the pier at 1:00 p.m. The plan was for Dodger and Courtney to be on the pier early, to intercept Mark before he could set foot on the gangway. The two arrived at the pier by 9 a.m., long before any passengers were likely to show up. They positioned themselves at the entrance to the pier, ready to inspect each and every person headed for the ship. Dodger was armed with the family photo of the Dimonds, though Courtney didn't think Mark looked much like that picture anymore. She couldn't rely on Dodger to recognize him. It would be up to her. She positioned herself square in the middle of the mouth of the pier. They had anticipated everything…

Except for the size of the crowd. By 11 a.m. the place was packed with people. It was a carnival-like atmosphere as throngs arrived by car, by bus, by limousine, and even by horse-drawn carriage. With each passing minute the pier grew more crowded. A band played near the ramps leading to the gangways, adding to the party. People were hugging and crying and generally thrilled by the prospect of sailing on the greatest ocean liner of their time. Porters hurried along with carts loaded down with suitcases and steamer trunks. Horses and cars were put into the hold. Huge crates were hoisted up by a crane and lowered into the cargo areas.

There was far too much going on for Courtney or Dodger to recognize anyone. Making matters worse was the fact that most men wore hats, so they couldn't get a good look at their faces. To Courtney
everybody
looked like Indiana Jones. She stood on a cement barricade, desperately scanning the crowd, but fearing Mark could walk right past without her knowing.

Half an hour before the ship was scheduled to sail, Dodger ran to her and exclaimed, “This ain't workin'.”

Courtney was near panic. “He could easily have gotten past us. He could already be on board!”

“I've got a better idea,” Dodger announced.

He took her by the hand and pulled her through the crowd. Courtney didn't argue. She figured anything would give them a better chance of weeding out Mark than what they were doing. The two ended up bumping into more people than they avoided, but they didn't stop until they got to the bottom of a long gangway that led up and onto the ship.

“We've got to get to the purser,” Dodger announced.

“The who?”

“The guy in charge of the passengers. He can tell us what cabin Mark is in. Once we know that, we'll go there, grab him, and get him off the ship with time to spare.”

“Wait, you want us to board the ship?” Courtney exclaimed, horrified.

“It's okay. Families and friends are let on during boarding to get the lowdown on the ship. They get bounced before shove-off. Trust me.”

Dodger dragged her to an official in uniform who looked to Courtney like a naval officer. He stood at the bottom of the gangway with a clipboard, checking off names. Dodger ran up to him and spoke with a British accent. “'Ello, guvna! Got here just in time to see me brother off, we did!”

Courtney thought it was the worst British accent she had ever heard.

The officer gave Dodger a sour look. He didn't think much of the accent either. But he was polite and helpful. “And what would your brother's name be, lad?”

“It would be Dimond,” Dodger answered, his accent getting worse. “Mark Dimond. He's an inventor, he is! Going back to Merry Old to make his fortune!”

The officer scanned his clipboard. Courtney bit her lip nervously. She wished Dodger had just spoken normally. Was the lie going to work? Was Mark even on the passenger list? Dodger gave her a
sideways look. He may have been putting on a confident air, but he was just as nervous as she was.

“Right!” the officer finally announced. “Mark Dimond.”

“Has he boarded yet?” Courtney asked excitedly, with no British accent.

“Yes, he has. You've just enough time to wish him well.”

“What's his cabin, guvna?” Dodger asked.

“Afraid I don't have that information, lad. You might want to check with the purser's office on board.”

“That we will! Thank ya, guvna!” Dodger tipped his cap and pulled Courtney on to the gangway. The two ran quickly up the incline.

The officer yelled after them, “Be quick about it! We sail in twenty!”

“Will do, guvna!” Dodger yelled back.

“What is this ‘guvna'?” Courtney asked sarcastically.

“Hey, no complainin'. It got us on, didn't it?”

The two boarded the ship and found themselves on a deck called “Promenade.” It was even busier than the pier. Between the excited passengers, the porters, the crew, the band, the family members and friends wishing a bon voyage, it was a jammed madhouse.

Dodger grabbed one of the ship's officers by the arm and asked, “We're looking for our brother to say good-bye. How do we find his cabin?” Courtney was relieved that he had dropped the lousy accent.

“Try the purser's office,” the officer said. “Forward on this deck to the Regent Street shops. From there take the lift down one level and you'll find it.”

The two bolted without taking time to thank him. They needed every possible second. It was like trying to fight their way through a 1930s version of a rave. People were dressed elegantly, as if
attending a grand ball, not an ocean cruise. Everyone had excited smiles and spoke a bit too loud. They found the place called “Regent Street,” which was lined with elegant shops and was already teeming with people. The shops sold jewelry and crystal and knickknacks of all sorts. Courtney had never been aboard a luxury ship of any kind and couldn't believe these stores actually existed on a ship.

Chimes sounded.

“What's that?” Courtney asked.

“Don't know, don't care,” Dodger declared. He was on a mission, but getting through the mass of people was nearly impossible. They ran into an elderly woman who was coming out of a jewelry shop. She had a small white poodle on a leash who looked every bit as anxious as Courtney and Dodger.

“Oh!” the old woman screamed as if they had just knocked her down and beaten her.

Instantly her little dog started barking. And barking. And barking.

“Sorry, sorry!” Courtney apologized.

The woman looked at them as though they were prison escapees.

“This is not an area for hooligans!” the woman bellowed. “Officer!”

She raised her hand, summoning one of the ship's officers as if he were her personal servant.

“What's the problem, mum?” he asked, tipping his uniform cap.

“These ruffians should be escorted to…to…somewhere else,” she bellowed haughtily.

Courtney froze. She squeezed Dodger's hand.

“We've got to get out of here,” she said under her breath.

“Not yet,” Dodger said. He turned to the officer and said with
his most polite voice, “Sorry for the disturbance, sir, but we're looking for our brother, who's sailing with you today. Perhaps we don't belong on this deck, but we're sure that our brother does and
OWWW!
”

Courtney squeezed Dodger's hand again. “Now!” she hissed under her breath.

“Too late to see him off now, I'm afraid,” the officer said. “All ashore that's going ashore. Please make your way back to the gangway.”

“Yes,” the elderly woman added. “Sooner rather than later.”

“No problem!” Courtney said, and pulled Dodger away. She didn't pull him toward the gangway. She brought him deeper into the ship.

“What are you doin'?” he complained. “We gotta get off the ship.”

“We can't!” Courtney squealed.

“Why not?” Dodger asked.

Courtney lifted her hand. Her ring was glowing. In seconds it would be shooting out light and music for the hundreds of people around them to see.

Dodger didn't hesitate. He grabbed her hand and the two quickly made their way through the mass of excited people, making no friends as they slammed into most every person they passed. Dodger kept glancing around, looking for a place to go. Any place to go.

“There!” Courtney shouted.

They were in a lounge area. Near them was an open door leading to somewhere. It didn't matter where. They had to get away from the crowd. They blasted through the door to find themselves in a pantry where white-smocked waiters hurried through with drinks for the passengers.

Courtney clamped her hand over the ring to try and keep the
light from leaking out. They ran to the end of the pantry and into a small kitchen. The crew was too busy to notice them or care. Courtney knew that in a few seconds they'd see a show that would make them notice and care a whole lot. Dodger pulled Courtney to a door on the far end of the kitchen that had a heavy, metal handle.

“Cold storage, just like at the hotel,” Dodger said. “We might get lucky.”

They did. He pulled the door open. Nobody was inside. Courtney jumped in and yanked on an overhead chain. A single bulb burned to life. Dodger closed the door behind them. A quick look around showed they were in a vegetable locker. There were hundreds of heads of lettuce, piles of carrots, and bags of onions—enough to prepare thousands of meals for the passengers and crew of the floating hotel. While Dodger stood at the door, ready to throw out anybody who came in looking for a potato, Courtney took off the ring and placed it on the deck. It had already grown to three times its size and was shooting out light that flooded the small space. The music grew louder. Courtney hoped the refrigerator door was soundproof. Lightproof, too. They covered their eyes as the ring performed its familiar task. Moments later it was over. Dodger and Courtney looked at the deck to see the ring had returned to normal. Another watertight pouch lay next to it. Bobby's next journal from Ibara had arrived.

“Get it!” Dodger said as he went for the door. “Let's go!”

“No,” Courtney said calmly.

“Wadda you mean no? The ships gonna shove off!”

“We haven't found Mark yet.”

“I know, but—” He stopped himself. “You're not thinking…?”

“Yeah, I am,” Courtney answered. She calmly bent down and picked up Bobby's journal, along with her ring. “I'm going on a
cruise. I'd understand if you took off, but I can't.”

“We'd be stowaways!” Dodger complained. “They'll arrest us and…and…I don't know what they'll do, but I'd lose my job at the hotel for sure.”

“Probably,” Courtney said. “But if this ship sails without me, it means Mark will die, history will be changed, and the dados will infest the territories. I don't want you to lose your job, but if Saint Dane has his way and the Earth territories are changed, I can't guarantee you'd find yourself in a world where the Manhattan Tower Hotel even exists.”

Dodger had to think about that one. He frowned. “I gotta tell ya, when Gunny asked me to help the guy who showed up with that ring, I wasn't expecting this.”