Son of Fortune (29 page)

“We could make it home by Christmas!” Christopher said.

“Not likely,” Aiden interrupted. “The wind is against us going north. And we will be heavy. Fish says two months would be good. So late January, maybe February.”

“Oh well, I suppose after this place every day will be Christmas.”

espite the choking clouds of dust, there was an almost festive mood aboard the
Raven
the next day as they loaded the guano. As wretched as the work was, once it was done, they would finally be leaving this place. Bag after bag slid down the chute onto the cargo nets, which were then hoisted up, swung over the deck and lowered through the hatches into the hold. Machinery made the job much easier, but down below the men still had to move the heavy bags around to trim the weight. Guano was a tricky cargo. It had to be kept dry. It could not even touch the sides of the hull, for it would pull moisture through the timbers like a sponge. Once wet, the guano would spoil. Worse, it could grow so heavy that it could sink the ship. It might even explode. No one was exactly sure what conditions led to exploding, but it was known to happen. Fumes from the ammonia could build up, and whole crews could be overcome. There were stories of men dying where they fell within minutes. The guano was even said to be a different kind of weight in a ship's hold. Fish wasn't sure how a hundred tons of guano could differ from the same weight of grain, but the captains all agreed it did. The
Raven
had special platforms in the hold to keep the guano well out of the bilgewater. Strong cargo nets would keep the sacks from shifting too much in heavy seas and allow crucial ventilation all around.

There was nothing for Aiden or Christopher to do but stay out of the way. Christopher accomplished this easily by having himself invited to spend the day aboard another ship. But Aiden spent the day on the island. Jian had to have seen the
Raven
loading, or at least known about it. Even in so tightly controlled a place, information always had a way of traveling. Aiden was sure Jian was clever enough to find a way to get a letter to him. No coolie could walk right up and hand Aiden anything, of course, but he might surreptitiously leave it in a place where he knew Aiden would find it. So he walked a slow, regular loop from the wharf up to the top of the loading area, pausing each time to rest for a few minutes on some crates near one of the side tracks, where it would be easiest for a coolie to drop something for him. Whenever he saw the scar-faced guard, Aiden paused, giving the man opportunity to say something or hand him something, but all day long there was nothing.

Aiden still didn't know if he believed Jian. He had given Fish his word that he would not interfere with the coolies, but even without that promise he wasn't sure what he could, or would, do. While he pitied Jian, of course, he did not like him. In Jian's original world, he would be just another arrogant rich man, despising people like Aiden.

The day passed with excruciating slowness. The noise was constant and deafening. Tackle blocks squeaked, guano carts rumbled and, as always, the birds screeched constantly overhead. The canvas chute swayed and creaked in its braces as the bags of guano slid down. Sometimes the canvas sagged and the bags would pile up, so men had to climb up the scaffolding and poke the chute to unblock it. Around noon the braces actually collapsed, and the full chute tumbled precariously over the side of the wharf, like a clumsy python with an overweight pig in its belly. It took over an hour and required every available man to wrestle the chute back up into place, then another hour to shore up the scaffolding and get it all working again. It was an annoying delay that pushed the
Raven
's departure awfully close to the turning tide. The storm had indeed dredged up sand close to shore. The harbormaster and Fish had both looked at the soundings and agreed that when fully loaded the
Raven
would probably still have clearance at low tide, but it would be close. It was not a chance anyone wanted to take.

There was still no message from Jian. Aiden felt mostly relieved—really, what more could he do? When he got back to San Francisco, he would go to the Chinese Merchants Association, tell them the story and let them sort it out. The cargo kept coming and the
Raven
sank lower and lower in the water. By late afternoon, the hold was full and the men were beyond exhausted. But finally it was done. The men closed and battened down the hatch covers. They hauled up buckets of water to rinse themselves and wash down the decks. A signal flag was hoisted up the mast to announce their departure, and aboard the German ship where he had sheltered for the day, Christopher folded his hand of whist, drank the rest of his sherry and made his farewells. The harbormaster and Fish signed and stamped some papers. The launch returned Christopher. He climbed up the boarding ladder and sprang nimbly over the side. The deck was still slick and he slipped, laughing like a child sliding on a frozen pond.

“Homeward, lads!” he cried out. “Let's heave away and haul about and all of that!” The men gave a cheer, despite their stinging eyes, cracked lips and sweaty fatigue. Who could feel bad, after all? This place was finally done. Nothing ahead but the open sea and homeward journey. Two months' sailing, less if they were lucky, and they would all be home. To wives and children and friends; to spend their good money on toys, dresses, false teeth for grandmothers and new boots. Gustav would get married and buy his bride a little house. Sven the Baby and three of his friends were planning to pool their money and buy their own lumber ship. Twenty new futures would blossom from the profit of this journey. And in China, hundreds of futures would vanish as more young men were tricked, sold or kidnapped into this hell.

The sailors cast off the mooring lines. The towboats approached and took their lines. Fish stood on the quarterdeck, supervising their departure. The tide was starting to go out, so everyone was eager to get under way. Guano dust had settled on the sails and puffed off in stinging clouds as the canvas was unfurled. The sailors swore with annoyance but stayed at their ropes.

“That's it, then, we've done it!” Christopher leaned against the rail beside Aiden. “All we have to do now is sail home and tally up our profits.”

“Yes,” Aiden said. But how should that tally be made? he wondered. If a five-pound sack of guano could keep a hundred people from starving, and two hundred coolies each dug five tons a day, but one coolie died for every thousand tons, what was the final price of a man's life? Aiden would never know how to work this math. And so he pushed it out of his head. He could not change the system any more than he could change the tides.

The
Raven
creaked away from the wharf, and Aiden felt a wash of relief. There had been no message from Jian, so no duty left to be done. But as he looked at the widening gap of water, the relief vanished. He felt uneasy. This did not make sense. Jian Zhang had spent every minute of his life on this island figuring out ways to escape. He had to have known the
Raven
was loading today, and if he had wanted to get a letter to Aiden, he would have found a way. That could mean only one thing: Jian had never intended to rely on any letter for his salvation.

“Excuse me,” Aiden said to Christopher. “I must go tend to something.”

“What's the matter?” Christopher looked at him and frowned. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“No,” Aiden said. He would welcome a ghost. “I just—I have to check something.”

Aiden hurried to the companionway and slid down the ladder. The first deck, where everyone lived, was easy to search, and he swept it in a few minutes, every cupboard, cabin and locker. There was no place for anything bigger than a mouse to hide. Besides, how could Jian have slipped aboard unseen? The loading hatches to the cargo hold had all been sealed, but there was an access hatch in the stern from this deck. Aiden opened this and crept a few steps down the ladder.

“Jian Zhang?” Aiden peered through the haze of guano dust. The only light came from the deck level behind him, and it was so dim he could barely see ten feet into the hold. He pulled his kerchief over his mouth, but the caustic dust still made him choke. “Are you here? Come out. I know you are here.” He heard nothing but the creak of timbers and a gentle squeak of the wooden pallet frames settling under the weight of the guano.

“You must come out. We will not sail with you aboard.” Aiden tried to make his voice strong, but it sounded pinched. How could Jian have snuck aboard with so many people around? There were a hundred other reasons why he wouldn't have been able to get a message to Aiden. He couldn't be here. But somehow Aiden knew he was. What wouldn't I do myself for a chance to rescue my own sister? he thought.

“Please,” Aiden said. “I can help you if you come out now!”

There was a small sound, a scuffling like a mouse creeping over the sacks.

“You will take me?” The voice came from beneath the guano very close by. It was choked and faint, but steady.

“I will get you back to the island before they find you are missing,” Aiden said. In the next minute, there was a chance. “And I will get word to your sister. I swear. But you must hurry!”

There was a long silence, then he saw Jian's slight figure edge out from behind the sacks of guano.

“You can jump into the water,” Aiden said, trying quickly to think up a plan. “We will say that you fell off the wharf. You will…hold on to a pylon…and…and I will see you there by chance as our ship pulls away! With so much noise from the loading, no one heard you calling for help!”

“Your men will see me jumping off.”

“My men will say nothing,” Aiden assured him. But what about the twenty men rowing the towboats? They would certainly notice a man jumping off the deck of the
Raven.

Aiden groped for a new plan. “I will say you were helping us load and were overcome with the fumes. You fainted and fell into the hold, and I just found you now as you were climbing out.”

“No coolie ever helps load a ship,” Jian said. He did not sound like a man pleading for his life. He sounded like a patient nanny trying to explain things to a stupid child. “There is no story.”

Aiden rushed ahead with a new idea. “I will say I asked you to bring me more pottery bits. I will tell Koster that I asked you to come aboard because I wanted more Inca pottery—for a museum.”