Book One of the Travelers (15 page)

BOOK: Book One of the Travelers
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T
EN

H
obey, mate, you scared me!” Spader blurted out. Then he clapped a hand over his mouth.

Per stared at him, his face whiter than the sheet he was hiding under.

“Guess I scared you too,” Spader whispered.

“Is there—is there anyone left?” Per asked.

“I think it's just us,” Spader replied, still keeping his voice down. “Do you have any idea how many raiders there are?”

Per shook his head. “When I heard the shots, I didn't understand what was happening. I—I hid.”

“Big surprise,” Spader muttered.

“I don't see you out there fighting off the raiders,” Per snapped.

“I was—oh, shut up,” Spader said. “We don't want them to hear us.”

“We have to get out of here,” Per said.

“State the obvious,” Spader said.

Per shot Spader a dirty look. “Do you want to take
shots at me, or do you want to try to get out of here? We may not like this, but we're all we've got. So we should probably try to work together.”

Spader hated admitting it, but Per was right. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Per pretended to be shocked. “The great Spader is apologizing? You mean you actually admit you're wrong about something?”

“Now who's taking shots?” Spader said. “Why are you always on me? I've never done anything to you.”

“Except beat me in every class, test, and competition!” Per blurted out. “It's humiliating.”

Spader gaped at Per. “I wasn't trying to make you look bad,” he said. “But I'm not going to be sorry for being good.”

Per let out a long sigh and looked away. “That's what makes it even worse,” he said softly. “You don't even have to try. At the academy I worked so hard to keep up. I sweated for every single grade. Put in extra practice time. You just coasted your way to being everyone's favorite.”

Spader didn't know how to respond, so instead he focused on the current problem. “Listen. I have a plan. We get to the raider's disabled vessel and hide out until the raiders leave the area.”

“And sit there until we sink like Faar?” Per asked.

“You have a better idea?” Spader demanded.

“The sleds are on the lower level,” Per pointed out. “Where most of the raiders are.”

“Did you do the sled drill?” Spader asked.

“No,” Per admitted. He scowled. “I guess you're
ahead of me. As usual.” He gave a hollow laugh. “I can just hear what my father would say about that!”

“Well, your father's not here. So let's stay on the subject,” Spader said.

Per slumped but nodded.

“Okay. We know the sleds can be accessed from the water,” Spader said. “So we just need to get off the ship, swim to the hatches, and then sled over to the raider ship.”

Per looked at him as if he were crazy. “We'll be shot before we hit the waves.”

Spader threw up his hands. “Come with me or don't. Because I'm not staying here one minute longer!”

Spader pressed his ear against the door. It had grown quiet again. He pictured his route. Air globes were kept in strategic spots along the corridor. That would be the easy part. Getting into the water would be tougher. He could either dive from the deck above or go down another level to the swim exit.

He cracked open the door. He could still hear laughing and talking down in the cargo area.

Deck it is
, he decided.

“Hang on,” Per whispered. “I'm going with you.”

Spader glanced back at Per. He seemed to have pulled himself together. Spader nodded. “Once we're underwater, follow me to the hatch. I know how to open it.”

Spader slipped out of the closet and hurried along the corridor. He grabbed one of the globes hanging near the ladder. He put it on as he clambered up the ladder and peered over the lip of the deck. All clear.

He climbed up to the deck and dashed toward the ladder.

Suddenly an alarm went off, and lights went on in the pilot's tower. Had he been discovered?

No,
he realized. They'd found the unconscious raider!

Spader couldn't take the time to be careful. The deck would be swarming with raiders any moment now. He flung himself overboard, cutting into the water clean as a knife.

He kicked hard, wanting to get to the hatches fast. He opened the latch as he had during the drill and pulled out two sleds. Where was Per? Had he changed his mind?

Spader tread water, his heart sinking with each passing moment. No matter how much he tried to push the thought aside, the only conclusion he could reach was that Per had been caught by the raiders.

Now the question was, what should Spader do about it?

E
LEVEN

S
pader couldn't just leave him. Per was a right dunderhead, and Spader's life would be smooth waters without him, but he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least try to find out whether the soaker was still alive.

Maybe Per never left that linen closet. That would be where Spader would look first.

Spader poked his head above the ladder and scanned the deck.

Now that the sun had gone down, the deck lights were on, so Spader had no trouble seeing that there were still no raiders at the back end of the boat. But he'd also be spotted immediately if anyone looked.

Spader raced across the deck and dropped onto the ladder leading below. No point even in checking for raiders—they were either there or they weren't.

Luck was with him. The corridor was empty. He pulled the pistol from his waistband again. Now he moved slowly, quietly, deliberately. He listened at each closed door, hoping he'd get some clue to what happened to Per.

He arrived at the linen closet. That door was wide open.

Spader slowed his breathing to calm himself. Then he stepped into the doorway, weapon aimed chest high.

It was empty.

The closet had been his best guess.
Only
guess, truth be told. If Per wasn't in here, Spader would have to search the entire ship, room by room, until he either found him or found his dead body.

He continued along the corridor, stopping and listening at each door. As he approached the last door, he heard talking.

“How many others?” a hard voice demanded. “Where are they hiding?”

“There are no others. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

Spader's heart sped up. Per!

The sound of fist hitting flesh made Spader cringe.

“Let's try this again,” the hard voice snarled. “Finding you in that hold was a big surprise. And we don't like surprises.”

Per must have heard the raiders coming and found a new hiding place, Spader thought.

“I don't know what you want me to say,” Per said, the terror in his voice clear. “I told you the truth and you don't believe me.”

“What do you think, Shax?” the hard voice said. “Do you believe him?”

“Keep working on him, Frey.” Shax's voice was right on the other side of the door. “Either we'll get the truth out of him, or we'll kill him. Either way we get what we want.”

Spader pushed the door in with a quick, powerful flick, slamming it into the raider called “Shax,” startling him and knocking him to the floor. Spader jumped into the room and pressed his foot hard onto Shax's neck. He aimed his silver pistol at the raider who had hit Per. Shax grabbed Spader's ankle, but Spader just pressed down harder, cutting off the man's air.

“Wouldn't suggest that,” Spader said. “A crushed windpipe is tough to get over.”

Shax stopped struggling and Spader eased up. A tiny bit.

“I see why you don't like surprises,” Spader said. Without lowering his pistol, he knelt down and disarmed Shax. Now he aimed a weapon at each raider. “They do put you at a disadvantage.”

Frey smiled slowly at Spader. “So you got the best of us. But do you really think you can fight off all of us?”

“What I think is that if you leave this guy's not-so-pretty face intact,” Spader said, “you can do a lot better than if you leave him for dead.”

“Yeah?” Frey smirked. “What makes you think that?”

Spader smiled cheerfully. “I've got a proposition for you.”

T
WELVE

Y
ou slusk fish!” Per exclaimed. “Djungu bug! You hate me so much that you'd side with them?”

Spader just kept smiling. Per's outburst only helped.

“Do you know who this is?” Spader said. “He's Per Watsu. Of Watsu shipyards.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me,” Per said.

“You kill him, and what do you have?” Spader continued. “A dead body to unload. But you keep him alive, you have something valuable to sell. I'd bet his daddy would pay a lot of money to get him back in one piece.”

“And we get caught making the exchange?” Frey said. “No thank you.”

“You're missing the beauty part, mate,” Spader said. “Me.”

Frey raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What makes you so beautiful?”

Spader laughed. “I hear I get my good looks from my mother, but what matters is that I can help you pull this off.”

“How exactly would you do that?” Frey asked.

“Bring the ship back to Crasker. If I'm the contact from the Grallion vessel, its arrival won't arouse suspicion. After all, I'm on the official list of crew. I can easily make contact with Watsu. That will delay the authorities getting involved. And Daddy Watsu will trust me. He'll think I only have Per's safety in mind.”

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 simultaneously. 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.”

BOOK: Book One of the Travelers
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