The League of Sharks (12 page)

Garvan and Lasel watched him go.

‘Dusca?' asked Garvan.

Lasel pointed over the hill and said, ‘Corraway.'

*

Now Garvan knew. Junk was the one he had been waiting for. Garvan had learned to speak his language, Junk had solved the puzzle boxes and he had saved Garvan's life, just as had been predicted. Now their journeys were linked. Because of Junk, now Garvan wouldn't have to kill his own father. It was quite a relief. However, there was much that would happen before they returned to Garvan's home. His real home and his family.

*

Junk cooled off some and returned to the boat. Lasel and Garvan had made a fire on the beach and were cooking what looked like two small pigs on a spit.

‘Sorry about that,' said Junk as he sat down by them.

Garvan shook his head. ‘No. It is me who should to apologize.' Now and then his English faltered.

‘Well, you did keep me prisoner for … How long was I there?' asked Junk.

Garvan shrugged. ‘Twenty-four … twenty-five hyka. Umm …' He struggled to find the word. ‘Days? You say days?'

‘You learned to speak English this well in twenty-five days? What are you? Like a mental genius or something?'

Garvan frowned. His English wasn't complete.

‘Well, you'll have to teach me your language,' said Junk.

‘Which one?' asked Garvan.

‘How many do you speak?'

‘Eighteen … or so.'

Junk blinked at him. ‘That's a lot.' He looked to Lasel. ‘How many do you speak?'

English not being one of hers, Lasel looked to Garvan for a translation: ‘Krimpta criptik te?'

‘Oh.' Lasel had to think. ‘Fal. Fal-gi.'

‘Ten or eleven. It is normal. There are many languages spoken in the world.'

‘I guess,' said Junk, thinking about it. ‘In mine too. I mean, I speak a fair few cos I've been moving around like. Not much use to me here though. Which brings me to … Where is here? Where am I?'

‘The town over the hill is—' Garvan started but Junk interrupted.

‘Called Corraway. I know. That much Lasel and I
got.' He smiled at Lasel. She smiled back but wasn't sure what they were talking about.

‘You are on the southern coast of Jansia.' Garvan picked up a spare spit and started drawing a crude map of his world in the sand. Jansia was part of a continent that vaguely resembled Europe, though, in comparison to a similar-sized map of Earth, the land mass was far smaller and there was a lot more water. This was true of the rest of this world. ‘This area is Bartaya,' he said, motioning to the continent of which Jansia was a part. To the east of Bartaya were two massive areas of land separated in the middle by a strip of ocean. ‘Tayana,' he pointed to what was vaguely northern Asia. ‘Payana.' He pointed to what would be southern Asia, then drew four separate land masses where Africa would have been. He tapped the northernmost one: ‘Glarn Sita.' He indicated the eastern one: ‘Unta Sita. To the south was ‘Cul Sita' and the last area he called ‘Daté Sita'. He drew land at both poles: ‘Jjen' – the northern one. ‘Pjen' was in the south. To the east of Tayana and Payana, he drew something shaped like a sickle. ‘Mallia,' he said. The two l's made an
ee
sound. Mallia was roughly in the same position as the Americas would be back home, but there was a lot more sea around a lot less land.

‘So you remember I was talking and you were listening, back in your cabin … you remember I mentioned the League of Sharks?' said Junk.

‘I was listening,' agreed Garvan. ‘Learning.'

‘Right. Clearly. So any idea where I start looking for them?'

‘Dint criptik oot?' Now Lasel was feeling left out.

Garvan turned to Junk, pointing at Lasel. ‘I say to her your story? Explain?'

‘Sure.' Junk shrugged and then listened, picking out the odd word here and there, as Garvan recounted to Lasel the story of the man who took Ambeline, of Junk's search around the world, of his discovery of La Liga de los Tiburones and then the green door that took him to the Room of Doors – Bosck dei Varm in their language. At that point, Junk noticed Lasel's brow furrow where before she had just been listening intently. He didn't say anything straight away and let Garvan go on to explain how Junk had a choice of two doors, went through one that brought him here, how he caught Junk in his net, kept him prisoner until he was sure he was harmless. He described the birdmen attack and that was the last thing he remembered until waking up here.

‘Dinta took,' said Lasel once Garvan had finished.

‘She said, “What a story,”' said Garvan to Junk. ‘To answer your question, I've never heard of this League of Sharks. I don't know where for you to start to look.' He turned to Lasel and asked her, but she just shook her head. She hadn't heard of them either.

‘But have you heard of the Room of Doors?' asked Junk. Garvan translated. ‘You frowned when Frank … I mean Garvan … mentioned it.' Again Garvan translated for Lasel. She thought for a moment before answering. She spoke in her native Jansian and Garvan translated her reply for Junk.

‘There is a man in Arrapia.' Garvan added an explanation: ‘Arrapia is a city to the north.' Lasel continued and Garvan translated. ‘He is called Otravinicus. He is a scientist. A doctor. Doctor Otravinicus. He wrote a book about a mythical place called the Room of Doors.' Junk was drawn deeper into her story with every word. He sat up a little straighter as he listened. ‘The Church wasn't happy with the book. The Room of Doors is supposed to be a very sacred and holy place. There was much argumenting.'

‘Arguing,' corrected Junk.

Garvan nodded and continued. ‘Much anger. It was very famous. The Church put him on trial. I'm surprised you don't know about this.' It took Garvan a moment to realize Lasel meant that last comment for him. ‘Nenga. Garvan shook his head. ‘Penca tamatay inta vol. Tapar its oot a barrat.' He looked at Junk. ‘I was explaining that I usually just stay on my island. I don't hear things about the outside world.'

‘Fair enough,' said Junk with a shrug.

He looked at Lasel and she resumed her story. Garvan continued his translation: ‘The Church wanted him to be punished because of what he had written, but he didn't say in the book where the Room of Doors is. Maybe he doesn't know. Anyway, maybe he could help you.' She shrugged. That was all she had.

Junk considered what he had heard. He nodded and then looked at Garvan. ‘How do I get to Arrapia?'

‘It's a long way. You'd have to take a land-ship.'

‘Land-ship?' asked Junk.

‘Great boats that travel on rails over land, go straight into the water.'

Junk nodded, remembering. ‘I saw one earlier. We almost got crushed by it.'

‘That wouldn't have been good,' said Garvan. ‘There's a station on the outskirts of Corraway.' He looked at Lasel and asked her a question, which she answered. ‘Lasel says there will be a land-ship we can get tomorrow that will take us to Arrapia.'

‘We?' asked Junk.

Garvan nodded. ‘You saved me. You didn't have to do that. You looked after me. You didn't have to do that either. You could have just left me. I did tie you up after all. I think we are friends. Yes?'

Junk shrugged. ‘Yeah, I guess.'

‘I will help you in your quest,' announced Garvan.

Junk smiled. ‘Thank you.' Then a thought occurred to him. ‘Wait. Does it cost money to ride on one of these land-ships?'

‘Yes,' said Garvan. ‘Of course.'

‘We don't have any money,' said Junk.

‘Oh,' said Garvan.

‘Hupta?' asked Lasel.
Problem
?

‘Nenga salli,' said Garvan, holding both hands open.

Lasel smiled. ‘Nenga hupta.'

The next morning Garvan, Lasel and Junk stood on the brow of the hill looking down on Corraway. It was the exact spot where Junk had stood the previous day. They saw the huge land-ship station. There was a ship there waiting, though it was facing south. A second, identical ship was coming in from the sea. The ship at the station had all its sails furled.

The arriving vessel was alive with activity as the captain piloted it towards the land and the crew readied it for the transfer from water to rails. Two small tugboats had come out to greet the land-ship and attached themselves via guidelines to the bow. They were now helping to line the land-ship up correctly. There was little room for error. However, this was clearly something that happened on a regular basis and it went off without a hitch.

A row of wheels ran the length of the underside of the land-ship. Between the captain and the tugs, the ship and the rails were lined up and embedded magnets did the rest. The wheels locked into place with a resounding clank. A pulley system clamped the wheels on to the rail and the land-ship heaved out of the water without so
much as a stutter. The crew tied up the sails as it made its way through the middle of Corraway, towering over the low buildings, and came to a stop at the station.

As it did the second land-ship was cleared for departure and it rumbled towards the sea. Gravity took hold as it slipped down the rails running through the town. As it went its sails unfurled and an enormous curtain of water curled into the air as the land-ship hit the sea and it detached from the rails. It headed steadily out to sea.

‘Chiva,' said Lasel and she started down the hill towards the town.

‘Let's go,' translated Garvan, and set off after her. Junk followed.

*

They made their way into town and headed to the station. The huge concourse was teeming with life. Fifty stalls dotted the immense forecourt, selling food and souvenirs and everything else a departing or arriving traveller might need.

On the eastern side of the building there were eight gangplanks leading into the body of the land-ship, half for those alighting, half for those embarking; all were choked with passengers. Station officials wore a distinctive orange-and-grey livery that made Junk think of the Swiss Guards of Vatican City, whom he had seen in Rome a year or so earlier. They might not have been as colourfully attired as the red, blue and gold Swiss Guards, but they certainly stood out.

Lasel put a hand on Junk's arm and drew his attention to an octagonal structure in the centre of the concourse. ‘Tarra dei omm,' she said.

‘Ticket office,' said Garvan.

Junk and Garvan followed Lasel a little closer to the octagonal structure. They circled around to the far side where they saw a door ajar. They could see the backs of six cashiers who were facing the windows on the opposite side. Lasel explained the plan and Garvan translated.

‘Inside, to the …' He faltered, not knowing the correct word, and held up his left hand. ‘This side.'

‘Left,' said Junk.

‘Yes,' continued Garvan. ‘Inside, to the left is a drawer. The top one of three. It is unlocked and inside they keep blank tickets. Spares, if you like. All you have to do is get in and out quickly and don't be seen.'

‘Me?' said Junk, it not having occurred to him that he would have to steal.

‘I'm too big,' said Garvan. ‘I think they might spot me.' He was of course right. Junk looked to Lasel. After all, she was the one who knew what to do. She understood from the look on his face what he was thinking. She frowned and shook her head.

‘Chuva tapar ante,' she said.

‘I'm not going anywhere,' said Garvan, translating.

‘I guess not,' said Junk, resigning himself to what he was about to do. ‘How about you two go around the front and cause a distraction or something? Try to get everyone
in the ticket office looking out the front and not behind them. Yeah?'

‘Seems sensible,' said Garvan, and he translated for Lasel. She nodded in agreement. The two of them walked away from Junk, who looked down and saw that his hands were shaking. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling his nerve.

‘OK,' he said quietly to himself, his eyes still closed. ‘One. Two. Three. Go.' With that, he opened his eyes ready to make a dash towards the ticket office but found himself looking straight at the hulking policeman who had chased him through the market the day before. Junk could see the look of recognition on the man's face.

‘Tunk!' he shouted, pointing at Junk, who turned and ran. The policeman blew his silent horn as he sped off in pursuit.

At the front of the ticket office, Garvan and Lasel looked to see what the commotion was all about and saw Junk sprinting away with the red-coated policeman charging after him. Lasel looked to the land-ship. The number of passengers on the gangplanks had lessened considerably. Boarding was almost done.

‘The ship's going to leave very soon,' said Lasel to Garvan in Jansian. ‘Find a way to hold it up. I'll get Junk.' She was gone, racing out of the station, before Garvan had a chance to argue. He turned to the ship. How on earth was he going to delay it?

*

Junk came hurtling out of the station and took off across the road into the labyrinth of narrow streets where he had lost the policemen the day before. Maybe he could do the same thing again, he thought. He weaved left and right, conscious of the fact that he really didn't know where he was going. That fact became horrifyingly evident when he turned into a dead end. He stuttered to a halt and did a quick one-eighty, but suddenly his exit was blocked by the policeman. The man was panting hard, sweat coursing down his brow. His lip curled up into an irritated snarl.

‘Criptiktar tunk, ba tunty dattakar,' he panted. Of course Junk had no idea what he was saying.

The sun was high in the sky and both the policeman and Junk were distracted by a shadow that flitted over the ground between them, but when they looked up neither of them could see what had caused it.

It was Lasel. She was on the rooftops above. She looked around for anything useful and found a length of strong rope attached to what looked like a long-abandoned birdhouse. She pulled it free and stopped for a moment to consider what to do with it. An idea blossomed and she smiled as she started to tie a loop at each end.