Pilgrims Page 14

  Blake began to despair, but they had no choice but to keep swimming. As they rounded the southern end of the island, Captain Bulmer stopped.

  He pulled out his slate: Do you feel colder water?

  Blake shrugged and plucked at his wetsuit.

  Deeper, Captain Bulmer wrote. Let me get some air and we’ll dive.

  Blake nodded and waited for Captain Bulmer to surface and breathe deeply for a few minutes. Then, together they dove. The land dropped precipitously here, making Blake feel like he was hang-gliding from atop a huge cliff. They kicked harder, going deeper. Blake switched the light to UV again.

  In the dark water, the UV light didn’t penetrate far, maybe just 10 feet. At the edge of their vision something danced.

  Another huge creature?

  No. This time, it was a school of tiny fish that darted toward them. Their heads glowed but their tails were dark, making them look like tiny glowing globes. Blake felt the familiar longing, the passion to know everything there was to know about this new species. But the globe-headed fish darted in and around them, and then disappeared.

  Blake told himself: Concentrate. Time is short.

  They kicked even deeper. Blake glanced at his wrist depth indicator. If he went much deeper, he’d have to spend a long time decompressing. He stopped and wrote on his slate: Can you scout deeper? DCS worry.

  He hated to stop just because of the DCS problem. It felt like he was weak, helpless. Human. In the oceans, here or on Earth, humans were weak: at risk for death from the weight of the water, lack of oxygen, or poisonous and predatory animals. Captain Bulmer was a strong Phoke, at home in the water, even with all its dangers.

  Captain Bulmer nodded and took Blake’s flashlight. He kicked hard. He wouldn’t have much time left before he had to go up to breathe.

  Blake watched the light going deeper and deeper.

  Deeper and deeper, smaller and smaller.

  Until Blake lost sight of Captain Bulmer in the depths.

  The Sick Planet

  Utz and Jake hung over the rail of the boat, watching for signs of the swimmers. Time dragged by.

  Jake worried: Where are you, Dad?

  He still called him Dad in his mind, even though he always called him Blake out loud. Dad was always going off in search of some new species. So far, he had four species of animals named after him: one bird, one fish, one insect and one butterfly. Dad didn’t care what animal group—amphibians, mammals, birds, fish, or insects. He just wanted to study a new species, to compare it with all known species and classify it. Kind of nerdy, Jake thought. But kind of interesting at the same time.

  It’s why Mom and Dad met in the first place.

  Utz growled, “This air is foul. We need to get off-planet soon.”

  Jake nodded grimly.

  “When we’re on Earth,” Utz said, “Will we be quarantined in the same place?”

  “I think so, but details are sketchy. Mom says there will be a remote desert location for all Risonians.”

  “Except her.” Utz looked up at the angry red blur of the sun. “She’ll be free to travel.”

  Jake shook his head, “I don’t think so. She’ll have to join us in the desert.”

  “It won’t work, you know. Too many smugglers,” Utz said.

  “Like Captain Diamond?” Jake said, struggling to keep the tinge of anger from his voice. He still didn’t understand why Utz had traded away their backup escape vehicle.

  “Smugglers have been sneaking Risonians into Earth for years, and no one has noticed. Of course, they didn’t break an umjaadi globe and spill everything into Earth’s oceans.”

  Jake was glad for the discussion because it was a distraction. He sat on the boat’s edge and let his legs dangle over. The air was still smoggy, and the cloth filter over his mouth and nose was hot and uncomfortable. “How many Risonians are on Earth by now?”

  Utz shrugged. “A thousand. Maybe two. Could be two or three times that for all I know. My cousin, Ancel Fallstar, doesn’t exactly share information with me.”

  “What?” The official count was about 25 Risonians, all in his mother’s ambassadorial office. A couple thousand other Risonian scattered around the world was amazing. And that didn’t count the secret installations like Seastead. “How long has Fallstar been smuggling in people?”

  “About fifteen years. At first, he only had one ship, and it was hard to avoid Earth’s detection. But he learned. And then, he bribed. There’ve been regular shipments to and from Earth for at least five years.” Utz leaned against the mast and relaxed. “Might as well tell you now because it’ll be pointless in a day or two. And you should know that there are wealthy Risonians on Earth. Lots of money has been funneled to them.”

  Jake nodded slowly. Wealthy. Yes, any smugglers moving to Earth would be wealthy because they were, well, smugglers. They didn’t care about laws or rules. They just cared about making money. Well, most that he’d met cared about their families, too. Just not about laws or rules.

  And those that they smuggled would be from important families, rich enough to pay. They’d set up bank accounts and find some way for funds from Rison to trickle into them. After all, families on Rison wouldn’t need the money. Suddenly, Jake wondered if that’s what Swann had been doing all along. Was he sending money to Dayexi, building up a cushion of funds for them to live on when he got there?

  Without warning, the planet shivered, as if it was sick and running a temperature and knew that unless something drastic happened soon, it would meet its destiny.

  On land, Jake might have sat down or run for high ground. In a sailboat, they just had to wait it out. Waves sloshed around their boat, and it strained against its anchor. But gradually, the waters calmed again.

  Jake peered into the water, now an angry green, and groaned. Where are you, Dad?

  Sooner, rather than later, they had to get off planet.

  Ultraviolet

  Blake blinked, not sure of what he was seeing. A small glow had reappeared and he had assumed Captain Bulmer was coming back up. But the light was wrong. It appeared to dangle and swing about aimlessly. But Blake dared not go down to investigate or help. He couldn’t risk the DCS.

  Another Risonian would’ve been helpful, he thought with frustration.

  As Captain Bulmer rose, Blake caught flashes of something glowing in the UV lights. But everything was so shaky, he couldn’t be sure. An irrational hope grew in him, though. Maybe they’d found the starfish and they could leave this cursed planet.

  Captain Bulmer was close enough now to see that he carried something in his hands. When he was ten feet away, Blake darted down and caught at the UV light, unsnapping it from Captain Bulmer’s waist belt.

  He shone it directly on the Phoke. He gasped, making his mouthpiece fall out of his mouth. Fumbling with the mouthpiece, he found it hard to replace in his mouth because of his grin. Captain Bulmer held six large starfish. The UV light revealed their six legs, and they all looked healthy.

  Motioning, Blake asked if he should carry some. Captain Bulmer shook his head, but nodded upwards. He needed to breathe!

  Blake was double-glad now that he hadn’t ventured so deep that he had to decompress. They kicked briskly, surfacing a moment later. Captain Bulmer gasped, letting himself relax in the air.

  Abruptly, the planet shook again.

  It was disorienting in the water. Captain Bulmer was still struggling to get his breath, and suddenly waves crashed over him. It lasted only five or ten seconds—or a lifetime. When it ended, Captain Bulmer gasped and called, “I’ve dropped them! Help!”

  Immediately, Blake replaced his mouthpiece and dove having enough sense to shine the UV light ahead of him. He kicked hard, his flippers making his legs ache. Flashing in the UV lights, the starfish pirouetted, a weirdly beautiful ballet as they fell back toward their home in the depths.

  Blake kicked even harder, but they fell away faster than ever. Frustration gave him a last burst of energy and he reached for a
spinning sestet of lights. There, he had the starfish. At least they had one.

  But suddenly, he held only a leg and the starfish was gone. He’d pulled off the leg, or the starfish’s defense mechanisms allowed it to lose a leg rather than lose its life.

  Helpless, Blake watched the starfish dancing toward home. They had lost them all.

  Waiting

  They returned to the dock exhausted and beaten. They’d missed the male starfish, and all they had was one preserved dead one, and the leg of another.

  Dr. Mangot insisted that they seal the leg in a glow globe on the outside chance that it would regrow from just the leg. Not likely, but it was all they had. Dr. Mangot moaned that if she could think straight, there might be something she could add to the water to encourage regeneration of the missing parts.

  Anyway, it no longer mattered. The Earth delegation had to get off-planet before it was too late.

  The ground was rumbling now, the planet’s core humming and thrumming, singing to itself. It warbled and burbled, magma coming closer to the surface than ever. Jake couldn’t escape the sound, and it grated at his nerves. Already taut with worry, he felt like he would break at any moment.

  By evening, dead fish washed ashore all along the beaches, making small piles where the waves dropped them. In another day, the stench would be—

  Another day! What a foolish thought, Jake chided himself.

  Captain Bulmer urged them to pack and sleep near the heliport.

  Jake quickly threw things into his bags, taking only what he needed for the journey back to Earth. He gazed a long time at the photo he’d taken from Swann’s office. It showed Swann hugging him while Mom smiled. He opened the frame and pulled out the photo. He stuffed it in his shirt. Everything else, he left in his bedroom. To speed things up, he went to help Blake with his packing.

  Blake stood staring at the air compressors, scuba tanks, and other gear. He waved at the pile and murmured, “Guess I don’t need those.”

  Jake looked up sharply. Blake sounded drunk or—sick? His face was flushed red.

  “Dad, sit.” He gently pushed Blake to a chair.

  “You called me Dad.” When he looked up at Jake, Blake’s eyes were red.

  Almost in a panic, Jake raced to Dr. Mangot’s room and banged on the door.

  “Come in.”

  Shoving open the door, Jake saw Captain Bulmer hovering over Dr. Mangot. She was flushed again, but standing. Wobbling. She took a tentative step, and her knees collapsed. Captain Bulmer caught her smoothly.

  He led her back to sit on the bed. Feeling behind her, Dr. Mangot swiveled and lay down.

  Captain Bulmer turned to Jake. “What?”

  “I think Blake’s sick now. I need a thermometer.”

  Captain Bulmer swore. He grabbed a thermometer from the bedside table and handed it to Jake. Then he paused, rummaged in a small bag, and pulled out a bottle of pills. “Antibiotics. Follow the directions. And then, we’ve got to get them moved to the helipad, sick or not.”

  It was a grim few hours. They decided to take Dr. Mangot first and come back for Blake. They all wore cloths over their noses and mouths, but still the foul air made everything harder. They took turns carrying Dr. Mangot, and at the last, supported her between them. Utz went along, loaded down with half of their bags. Reluctantly, they left her alone at the helipad.

  When they’d arrived, the jungle was a blur to Jake. After a week on the island, though, the jumble had turned into tall palm-like trees, huge ferns and lots of undergrowth. They found a soft spot for Dr. Mangot under a fern and went back for Blake, repeating the process, while Utz lugged the last of their bags. All the glow stars with starfish were in one box, rather large and unwieldy.

  The two trips left Jake exhausted. Briefly, he radioed Swann, who assured him through the increasing static that they’d be there at dawn. He drank, ate and dozed.

  A tremor woke him, the planet groaning and grumbling beneath them. Checking the time, he saw that it was two hours past midnight. Quickly, he checked on Blake, whose temperature was still high. He shook out another antibiotic and made Blake swallow it. Blake probably wouldn’t remember taking it in the morning because he instantly sank back into sleep.

  Jake wished he could see the stars. Instead, the smoke clouds hid the constellations, making the night inky black. Soon, very soon, they needed to be among the stars. He paced carefully, where he knew the ground was clear, counting precise steps, five one way and five to return.

  He checked his radio again to be sure the batteries were charged, and it was turned on. He wanted to call Swann, but that was pointless. He would be here as fast as he could.

  The hours dragged by. Jake knew he should sit and try to sleep, but instead he paced. Every rumble made him jump. Every slight tremor made him freeze. Nerves on edge, he felt his fears mount as the sky lightened. There was no dawn in the smog, but rather a lightening of the sky into a dim shroud over the land.

  Finally, there was a radio call, crackly and broken up, but definitely Swann’s voice. “Norio and I will be there in an hour. Be ready. The planet isn’t going to last long.”

  Jake woke Utz and Captain Bulmer. They woke Dr. Mangot and Blake long enough to dose them, make them go to the bathroom, and make them drink something. After those wearying tasks, the two patients sank back into uneasy sleep.

  Evacuation

  Jake stared at his chronometer, still set to Earth time. January 23. They’d been on the planet for eight days. Would this day live in infamy as the day Rison imploded? Or did they have three or four more days as the scientists had predicted?

  The radio crackled again. ‘Navi—. . . have to. . .ready.”

  The volcanic ash in the atmosphere had nearly blocked communications.

  Jake waved at the others. “Get ready. They’re close.”

  The ground trembled without stopping now, as if the planet was shuddering in horror.

  Suddenly, lights shone out of the dark sky, and ashen wind blasted down on them.

  The small band crouched to diminish the effect of the down drafts from the spaceship.

  After the spaceship landed, the door popped open, and a gangplank extended. Swann and Norio strode down the gangplank calling, “Let’s go. Now!”

  Captain Bulmer staggered forward, Dr. Mangot in his arms.

  Jake shook Blake, who woke with a lazy smile. Blake yawned, stretched, and drawled, “Wow, I feel better. That medicine must’ve helped.”

  “Good,” Jake said. “Because we’ve got to evacuate.”

  Jake helped Blake stand. After momentary dizziness, Blake held up his hands and said, “I got this.”

  He trudged toward the gangplank, not exactly racing, but steady on his feet and not wobbling. Jake was encouraged. They were almost off this doomed planet.

  They followed Utz who carried several bags.

  Norio took the bags from him and said quietly. “No extra weight.”

  “We’ll need the starfish box at least,” Utz said.

  Norio nodded and Utz went to carry it aboard.

  Swann stopped Blake at the bottom of the gangplank. “We need to talk.”

  Jake hung back long enough to hear their first words.

  “Back in Killia, it was a mad scramble to take off. I had to give up our larger ship, so this is the only one we had left.” Swann shrugged, as if that statement should tell Blake something.

  Norio added, “We used the Eagle 10 to evacuate the household personnel. But we misjudged the time. We thought there was time for another trip up and down before we’d need it for this trip. As it was, we barely got it off before we came here for you.”

  His eyes met Jake’s. The household was safe, and that had been Norio’s main concern. Jake nodded his understanding.

  Blake turned to stare at the spaceship. For a moment, there was nothing, and then Blake’s face screwed up in some awful emotion. Hoarsely, he whispered, “It’s too small for seven people.”

  Swann gave a small n
od.

  Jake felt a horror grow in him. It was a tiny ship, no bigger than the Tokyo. A four-seater. From the sound of it, this one had a standard engine. At least the Tokyo’s engine had been enhanced for speed and power.

  He glared at his stepfather and mentally recounted their small group. There wasn’t room for all of them. Swann and Norio obviously had to go. Likewise, Captain Bulmer and Dr. Mangot had to go, or Earth would roar with outrage. That left zero spots for Jake, Utz and Blake.

  If they were very lucky, the ship might take a fifth passenger. No way would all seven of them make it to the Cadee Moon Base.

  Two people had to stay behind.

  Why had Swann brought such a small vessel? Jake fumed. But of course, he knew the answer instantly. Swann was, to the end, compassionate to his people. To a fault. Swann had given the larger spaceship, the Eagle 10, to his household servants. Like Norio, he would make sure his people were safe, even if it meant difficulties later.

  As if they were one, Blake and Swann stepped off the gangplank, far enough away that Jake couldn’t hear them talking. He started back down, but Norio reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him onto the spaceship.

  “They’ll settle things, and we’ll leave. Come on and get strapped in.” Norio stepped forward to the pilot’s seat and started flipping switches, readying to leave.

  Captain Bulmer had already buckled Dr. Mangot into a seat and took the one next to her. Utz staggered aboard with the starfish globes, and Norio helped him strap down the box.

  Jake trailed back to the doorway to watch his fathers.

  “No!” Blake yelled. “Dayexi needs YOU, not me. Your people need you.”

  Jake sucked in a breath sharply. They were arguing over who would go and who would stay.

  Jake raced down the gangplank, his heart torn. Surely, they could all board, and they’d make it. Surely, no one had to stay.