TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW (7 page)

He broke off as the alarm pager went off.

“
Shit!
Someone’s broken into Andre’s cabin!”

They burst out of their cabin and ran down the companionway, covering the short distance to Andre’s cabin in a moment. The door was closed, but it was unlocked and Andre had not left it that way.

Finn reached into the waistband of his trousers and pulled out a small revolver, a Colt baby Patterson .28

caliber percussion pistol. Not as lethal as a laser, but far more suited to the time. He glanced at Lucas.

Lucas nodded. He reached out, opened the door quickly, and stepped out of the way while Finn went in low, in case whoever was inside was armed.

Jules Verne was sitting on the bunk. He had opened the locks on their portmanteau and traveling chest and he had removed the ordnance cases. They were lying on the floor in front of him while he sat hunched over, in a posture similar to Rodin’s Thinker. He did not look up as they came in.

“You know,” he said, “I shall be forever grateful to that convict who taught me the trick of picking locks. I knew the skill would come in handy someday. Still, I was unable to get very far with these,” he indicated the fastenings on the ordnance cases. “Most unusual design. Quite fascinating.” Lucas softly closed the door. “What is the meaning of this, Mr. Verne?” he said, tensely.

The writer was oblivious to the gun Finn held pointed at him. He kept staring at the ordnance cases.

“Fascinating,” he said. “Absolutely fascinating. I have never before encountered a material even remotely like this. It appears to be of a high molecular weight, containing some manner of synthetic substance as its essential ingredient, possibly derived from a natural substance by some form of chemical treatment. Shaped by flow, undoubtedly, through the application of heat and pressure? Molded or cast.

Yes, a laminate of some sort, no?”

“Mr. Verne,” said Finn, “in case it has escaped your notice, I’m pointing a gun at you.”

“Yes, well,
mon ami,
either you are going to shoot me or you are not. The matter rests entirely in your hands. There is not much I can do about it, in either case.” Finn glanced at Lucas helplessly. Lucas only shrugged. Andre sat down on the bunk beside Verne.

“Is it your habit to break into a lady’s room and search through her belongings, sir?” she said, putting just the right touch of indignation in her voice. “That is not the way a gentleman behaves.”

“I am not a gentleman,
ma chire,”
he said. “I am a novelist. Besides, no offense intended, but you are hardly what one would call a lady. One glance at your shoulders and your arms, to say nothing of the way you walk, and an astute observer would instantly perceive you have not had an ounce of pampering in your entire life. As for your compatriot, he looks far more like a strongman than a university professor.

And I already know that he is not that. The question is, what
are
you?”

“Very well, Mr. Verne,” said Finn, putting the Colt away. “I see we are going to have to be forthright with you. I hope we can count on you not to give us away. The fact is, we are reporters—”

“Oh, nonsense,” Verne said, impatiently. He tapped the ordnance cases. “Then how would you explain these?”

“Those are cases containing photographic equipment,” Finn began, but Verne interrupted him.

“You are lying, sir. Perhaps you would care to open them? I would like to see this photographic equipment.”

“All right, look,” Delaney said. “We don’t have to explain anything to you. You broke in here like a common thief.”

“Then call Commander Farragut and demand I be arrested,” Verne said.

The three of them exchanged glances. “I think we’ve got a problem,” Andre said.

Verne leaned back against the bulkhead, crossed his legs and lit a cigarette that he took out of a small, thin silver case. He watched them with curiosity.

“Well, Mr. Verne,” said Lucas, “now that you know we are not what we say we are, the question is, what are you going to do about it?”

“I honestly do not know,” said Verne. “You three intrigue me. Your intentions do not seem to be criminal, else you would have overpowered me and thrown me overboard. An accident. Such things occur. But you are not going to do that, I perceive, so we are at an impasse. You can kill me, but you seem reluctant to do so. I can expose you for the frauds you are, but I have no reason to. At least not at the moment. Aboard this ship, there is hardly any chance of your escape. So what do we do now, my friends?”

Finn looked at Lucas. “Do you believe this guy?”

“He’s got nerve, I’ll give him that,” said Lucas.

“What is in those cases?” Verne said.

“That, Mr. Verne,” said Andre, “is none of your business.”

“Well, if whatever you have in there is any danger to this ship, since I am
on
this ship, I would say it is very much my business. However, let us see what we can infer. You have boarded this ship under false pretenses. Your intentions may or may not be criminal, though I am disposed to think they are not, else you would have handled my intrusion far more drastically. Obviously, the entire matter centers upon this expedition. You are clearly not what you claim to be. You, sir,” he said, looking at Delaney, “have the appearance of a ruffian, yet I perceive you are an educated man. You,” he glanced at Lucas, “have quite a military bearing and I doubt you lost your eye as a result of some disease or accident. You also limp, albeit very slightly, so I surmise you have seen some fairly recent military action. In the civil war, perhaps.

As for you, my dear,” he glanced at Andre, “you intrigue me most of all. Although you hide it well, your physical development is striking for a woman and there is something about your speech that is most interesting. I detect an accent, only the barest trace, something most people would not notice, yet I cannot put my finger upon it. I was initially disposed to think you were French, but you are not French.

And then there is the curious matter of these cases, made of some sort of unique material and fastened by locks which seem to operate neither by key nor by combination. Astonishing. Truly astonishing. What can we infer from all of this?”

“Mr. Verne,” said Andre, “you are far too perceptive for your own good.”

“And then there is the matter of your timely arrival, prepared to deal with an intruder. You
knew
that I—or that someone—was in here, yet I made no noise breaking in and I did not set off any audible alarm. However, an alarm there must have been.”

He got up quickly and walked over to the cabin door. Delaney grabbed him by the arm. “That will do, Verne.”

“Should I cry out?” said Verne.

Finn took a deep breath. “Damn you.” He let him go.

Verne bent down over the door latch, checking it and the area around it carefully. “Aha!” he said.

“What have we here?”

He removed a small jackknife from his pocket, opened it, and used the blade to pry the small sensor loose.

“
Mon Dieu!
So small!”

“Finn, stop him!” Andre said.

“
How?”
said Delaney.

“Finn! An Irish name,” said Verne. “Am I to suppose that Delaney is your real name, then?”

“Yes, they are our real names,” said Finn, wryly.

“Well then, Finn, my friend,” said Verne, showing him the sensor, “perhaps you could enlighten me as to what this is?”

“You’re doing so damn well, you tell me.”

“What logic tells me it must be, it cannot be,” said Verne. “And yet, I can think of no other explanation. It
is
an alarm device of some sort, is it not? A miniature transmitter, but on such a scale! It is not possible. Yet, what else can it be? Such sophistication is unheard of.”

“Mr. Verne,” said Lucas, “you have inadvertently uncovered a top secret government mission. What you are holding is a highly classified piece of equipment. I must ask you to return it to me. This is a most delicate situation and you have seriously compromised us. If I cannot be satisfied that you can be trusted to remain silent about all of this, I’m afraid we shall be forced to do something very drastic.” Verne stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, then handed over the tiny sensor.

“Yes,” he said, “yes, indeed. That you are agents of some sort, that I can believe. But there is much here that strains credulity. You may trust me to keep all this to myself, at least for the time being. I would not wish to force you into doing something very drastic, as you put it.” He pursed his lips and stroked his beard. “But you have given me a great deal to think about. A very great deal, indeed. I shall have to sleep on it. Good night to you.”

He opened the door and walked out as casually as if he had been paying them a quiet social visit.

Finn exhaled heavily and turned to Lucas. “You were saying that he was the least of our problems?” he said. He held up his thumb and forefinger, about a quarter of an inch apart. “He’s
that
far from figuring out the truth.”

Lucas shook his head. “No, that’s impossible.”

“Is it?” Finn said. “You watch.”

“He’s puzzled, true,” said Lucas, “but there’s just no way he’ll ever guess we’re from a future time. It would be too mind-boggling a concept for him.”

“Only you’re forgetting one thing,” said Finn. “This is the man who invented science fiction.” Lucas bit his lower lip.

“What are we going to do?” said Andre.

None of them had an answer.

An entire week passed with no sight of Jules Verne. He remained closeted in his cabin, pleading seasickness. His meals were brought in to him, but he ate extremely sparingly, if at all. The ship’s doctor was sent in to see him and he announced the author did, indeed, appear to be suffering from nothing more serious than seasickness, claiming dizziness, nausea and an upset stomach. It would pass, the doctor said, there was no cause for concern. The three commandos, however, were very much concerned.

Time passed slowly aboard the ship as it steamed across the Atlantic, and they were not troubled by storms. Finn, Lucas and Andre had plenty of time and opportunity to examine the ship, observe the routine of its crew and pick put several likely places from which they might be able to launch their grenades unobserved if the submarine were sighted.

The three scientists proved to be no problem. Vandenburg was surly and morose by disposition, preferring to keep to himself and socialize to some limited extent only during mealtimes. The remainder of the time he spent reading, having brought several suitcases full of books along with him on the voyage.

Samuelson and Devries were both considerably more gregarious, with Devries always wanting to discuss some scientific topic or another, which discussions were facilitated by the implant programming the commandos went through in preparation for their mission. Still, Devries’s expertise was so eclectic, they had to plead ignorance on several occasions when his discourse became far too esoteric for them. On such occasions, Devries was more than happy to quickly change the subject away from science to such fields as literature, theater, history and philosophy. He was one of those people who seemed to be able to talk about almost anything with authority and he dearly loved to talk, which did not endear him to Ned Land, who quickly grew bored listening to him go on and on. Samuelson turned out to be a chess fanatic, which gave him common ground with Lucas. They spent long hours playing, and discussing the finer points of the game.

Finn and Ned Land got along famously. One of Land’s favorite pastimes was arm wrestling and, given his prodigious strength, he rarely lost. His harpooner’s reflexes also gave him an edge in that regard, but in Finn Delaney, he met his match. The first time he challenged him, after having already bested the entire crew, it had been with a good deal of levity.

“Come on, then, Doctor, you’re a stout fellow, let’s see what you’re made of.” Finn had accepted readily enough and a small group gathered round to see the “professor” get his comeuppance. The two men propped their elbows up on a keg, braced themselves and, at a signal from one of the onlookers, went to. Land’s eyes widened in surprise immediately when he felt a strength opposing his that was equal to his own.

“Eh! Professor! That’s some arm you’ve got there!”

Both men strained, hands locked, neither able to gain an advantage over the other. The crowd of onlookers grew and soon sailors were shouting encouragement and placing bets. It went on for almost four minutes, both men red-faced and sweaty, breathless from their exertions, until finally Land slowly started to give, fighting every last inch of the way. When Finn put him down at last, there was a mighty cheer and Land cheered loudest of all. He leaped up and clasped Finn in a bear hug, kissing both his cheeks and lifting him into the air. From that moment on, Land treated him like a brother.

Lucas kept monitoring the sea with his instruments every chance he got, closing them up immediately whenever anyone came near, acting suspicious and indignant whenever anyone questioned him about what he was doing. Since he only seemed to act so unreasonably when so occupied and was otherwise quite sociable, they soon left him alone at his task, writing it off to his scientific jealousy and insecurity.

For the first few days at sea, Andre was left pretty much to her own devices. Samuelson seemed somewhat misogynistic, Devries did not seem to feel women had much to contribute to intellectual discussion—in this, being typical of the men of his day—and Vandenburg was downright misanthropic.

That left only Verne, who had removed himself from their company, and the officers and crew of the
Abraham Lincoln
who, like Ned Land, treated her with polite circumspection until one day one of the bolder sailors pinched her backside. Andre turned around and flattened him, to the amazement of his fellow crew members and Ned Land, who had witnessed the act. Thereafter, the crew of the
Abraham
Lincoln
gave her a wide berth, but Land began to follow her around like a lovesick schoolboy, pathetically and endearingly trying to court her, as if he had never had anything to do with women before and didn’t quite know how to go about it.