TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW (24 page)

Frustrated, Lucas finally was reduced to timing Verne’s sentences, which kept getting longer and longer, though they remained perfectly grammatical. To his astonishment, Verne, his accent growing thicker, launched into an extensive mono-logical sentence which went on for forty-five minutes without a break, ending
finally,
incongruously, in a question. Verne actually paused at that point, awaiting an answer. None was forthcoming.
Please,
thought Lucas, for God’s sake don’t start up again! The silence became lengthy and finally broken by a window-rattling snore from Finn, and Verne belatedly became aware of the soporific effect of his conversation.

“Oh, well, never mind,” he said, and fell asleep the very next instant, slumping forward in his chair, chin on his chest.

“That’s one for the books,” Lucas mumbled to himself. He was just starting to drift off when there came a faint knock at the door and it creaked open slightly.

“Lucas? Finn?”

It was Land.

“Oh, no,” said Lucas.

“Are you awake?” said Land.

“Ned, whatever it is, can’t it wait till morning?”

“No, no, I must tell you
now,”
said Land. “I will not be here in the morning.” Lucas came fully awake. “What are you talking about?” The others slept on, both snoring loudly.

“I am leaving,” Land said. “Tonight. Within the hour.”

“What do you mean, you’re leaving? Where?”

“I’m going with Marie,” said Land. “We are running away together.” Lucas sat up in bed. “I thought she didn’t want to leave Lafitte,” he said.

“That was before,” said Land. “All that is changed now. I love her. And she loves me.”

“Ned, she’s young enough to be your daughter.”

“She doesn’t think me old,” said Land. “And she’s no child, believe me. She knows her mind.”

“Perhaps, but it does seem changeable,” said Lucas. “You realize this is very foolish, don’t you?”

“I know what you’re going to say,” said Land. “There’s no point in running off. Lafitte was willing to make me a present of her before, why not just ask if he still stands by his offer? No. I will not have any man make a present of a woman as if she were a horse.”

“So you’ll steal her as if you were a horse thief,” Lucas said. “Ned, don’t be an ass. Where would you go?”

“She knows her way through the bayous,” Land said. “She’s getting some things together. She’ll meet me on the back side of the island in a pirogue and we’ll paddle to New Orleans. Then we’ll make our way to Boston. I can get work as a harpooner. I’ll buy a house and we will marry. She’s very light, no one would think she was a Negro. We can have a family.”

“Ned, has it occurred to you that you don’t belong in this time? It’s 1812. You haven’t even been born yet.”

“What does that matter? I don’t care. I’m leaving, I tell you and nothing you can say will change my mind. I only came to say good-bye. You will say good-bye to Finn and Andre for me, won’t you? And to Jules.”

“Well, if you’ve made up your mind. . . .”

“You can’t talk me out of it. There’s no use trying.”

Lucas got out of bed. “All right, Ned, I won’t. I wish you the best of luck. I hope you won’t regret this.”

He offered Land his hand and the harpooner took it. “I will have nothing to regret, I promise you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Lucas and, still holding onto Land’s hand, he gave him a savage kick in the balls.

Land wheezed and doubled over and Lucas nailed him with an uppercut to the jaw. The harpooner dropped to the floor, unconscious. Verne and Delaney kept up their steady cadence of snoring.

“Marie’s going to have a long wait by the boat,” said Lucas. “And by the time morning comes around, I don’t think she’ll love you quite so much.”

He pulled down the curtain cord and proceeded to tie up the unconscious Ned.

Lucas woke up with someone shaking his shoulder gently. He opened his eyes to see Finn bending over him.

“Is it morning already?”

“Rise and shine, Major,” Finn said. “Time to get ready to hit the boats and weigh anchor.”

“It feels like I just closed my eyes,” said Lucas.

“What happened here last night?” said Finn.

“Huh?” Lucas sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Finn pointed.

Verne had fallen off the chair onto the floor, where he was curled up in a fetal position, dead to the world. Beside him, struggling against his bonds, glaring ferociously and growling into his gag, was Land.

The door opened and Andre walked in.

“I must have missed a hell of a party,” she said.

“Verne passed out and Ned was going to run off with Marie and set up light housekeeping in Boston,” Lucas said, getting out of bed. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he wasn’t very reasonable.”

“He’s liable to be a lot less reasonable when you untie him,” Finn said.

“You’re probably right,” said Lucas. “Let’s not untie him.” Land thrashed on the floor.

Andre stood over him, hands on her hips. “You cad,” she said. “The minute my back is turned, you’re playing around with another woman. You’re a heartless brute.” Land rolled his eyes.

“Never trust a sailor,” Finn said.

“He was just going to go off and leave us in the lurch,” said Lucas. “Here we are, needing all the help we can get, and he’s sneaking off to hide under some woman’s skirts.”

“Ned Land, the great harpooner, running away from a fight,” said Andre. “I should have known he was all bluster.”

“The hell with him,” said Finn. “Let him go. Who needs a friend like him? We’ll just have to handle Drakov by ourselves.”

Land stopped struggling.

They looked at each other.

“You think maybe he’s ready to be untied now?” said Andre.

“I think so,” said Finn.

Moments later, Land was on his feet, looking sullen and rubbing his chafed wrists.

“Friends?” said Lucas, offering his hand.

Land grunted, then took his hand. And swung a haymaker at Lucas’s head. Lucas easily ducked underneath it and jabbed Land twice in the solar plexus, hard enough to sit him down on the floor, winded.

“You didn’t really think I was going to fall for that, did you?” Lucas said.

Land glared at him from the floor, then a smile spread over his face and he started to laugh. They all joined him.

“I should probably be thanking you,” he said. “I would’ve married the girl.”

“That’s okay,” said Lucas. “We all come down with temporary insanity every once in a while.” Land sighed. “You’re right, for certain, it would have been a very foolish thing to do. Still, some things are worth being foolish over.” He shook his head. “She must have been waiting all night at the boat. What am I to tell her?”

“Tell her you were tied up,” said Lucas.

Land laughed and put his arm around Lucas, then quickly shifted his grip, caught him in a headlock and brought his fist down in a punishing hammerblow on top of his head. Lucas felt as if a gong had gone off inside his skull. He sat on the floor, palms pressed to his temples, rocking slightly.

“You fell for that one,” Land said. “Now I’m in the mood for breakfast.”

“
Sacre bleu!”
moaned Verne, from the floor. “I beg you, do not mention food!” They took their leave of Jean Lafitte and rowed out to the
Valkyrie,
which sailed on the morning tide. In the early morning sun, with the wind blowing through their hair and the salty sea spray misting in over the decks, they all felt relaxed and invigorated. It was hard to imagine that in a short time, they would be involved in the most dangerous conflict of their careers.

Drakov was strangely silent as he stood by the helmsman, his gaze on the horizon. There was an air of tense anticipation among his crew.

“It’s almost as if they know there’s going to be a fight,” Lucas said softly to Finn as they stood on deck.

“You think they’re onto it?” said Finn.

“I don’t know,” said Lucas. “I sure as hell hope not. We need the advantage of surprise.”

“Maybe it’s just the thought of returning to the base,” said Andre. “If they know Drakov is ready to put whatever plan he’s made into action, that could account for it.”

“I’d feel a whole lot better if we had our warp discs,” Finn said.

“We’ll have to try to get some,” Lucas said. “Maybe Martingale can help. If not, we’ll have to take them from Drakov’s men.”

“We may not get that chance,” said Andre.

“I just wish we didn’t have to depend on Martingale to get the signal out,” said Finn. “Are you sure he’s straight on the fugue sequence program?”

“I showed him as best I could,” said Lucas. “He’ll be all right. He’s a pro.”

“If something goes wrong and he winds up in the dead zone, what happens then?” said Andre.

“Then nothing’s changed,” said Lucas. “It will still be up to us, just as it was in the beginning. One of us will have to try and get out to signal Forrester. The others will have to stay and destroy the sub. It will still leave a mess, but the sub has to be destroyed, no matter what. All Martingale and Dr. Darkness can do is improve our odds. We’ve still got to get the job done.”

“What about Verne and Land?” said Andre.

Lucas sighed. “We protect them, if we can. If not, well, they’ll just have to fend for themselves.” When they were well out of sight of land, Drakov signaled the
Nautilus.
Within a short time, they saw its dark bulk rise up out of the waves, dwarfing the small ship they were on. Verne, who had shrugged off most of the effects of his hangover with the help of the tangy sea air, had joined them at the railing and he gasped as he saw the
Nautilus
rise.

“I have never seen her surface before!” he said. “What an incredible sight! She breaks the surface of the water like an island rising from beneath the waves. Small wonder sailors took her for a sea monster.

She looks both terrifying and majestic.”

As the lines were tossed, bringing the schooner and the submarine closer together, men came up behind them, two for each of them, one on each side. They were grasped firmly while others, standing before them, covered them with pistols. This time, they were not black powder weapons or revolvers.

These were lasers.

“Henceforth,” said Drakov, coining up to them, “you will be kept under constant guard. I shall not make the mistake Falcon made in underestimating the three of you. You shall be separated, from Verne and Land as well as from each other. Two men will remain with you at all times. Two more will serve to reinforce the first two. I know you had planned to search my cabin for the warp discs. Land told me.

Perhaps he is sincere in wishing to join me. Perhaps it is a plot you hatched. In either case, I will not trust him quite yet. He will be watched, as well. If all goes according to plan, and I see no reason why it should not, you will all come away from this unharmed.”

“Just what is—” Lucas began, but Drakov interrupted him.

“No questions, Mr. Priest. T-Day is approaching. I have no more time for pleasantries nor for being a gracious, tolerant host. Take them below.”

They were escorted down into the submarine and immediately separated. The orders given to their guards were clear. They were not to be let out of sight even for a moment, not even while going to the head. The guards would say nothing to them and they kept well apart, both holding lasers at the ready, so that if one was jumped, the other could fire, killing his shipmate if need be. Drakov had not exaggerated.

He was taking no chances whatsoever.

Each of them, in their separate areas of the ship, kept thinking the same thing. Whether Martingale could bring help or not, the missiles must not be fired. There was only one way to guarantee that. Kill Drakov and destroy the sub. There were three against more than a hundred and that number would grow sharply when they reached the secret base in the volcano off New Guinea. And they could not act, even if they were able to, before they reached that base. For the present, there was nothing to do but wait.

They did not have to wait for long. Soon after they had submerged, the transition signal sounded throughout the submarine. They each felt the effects of temporal teleportation as the mammoth sub translocated to another time. Lucas bit his lower lip and stared at his two guards, who returned his gaze unblinking, both their lasers pointed directly at his midsection.

Whatever happens, Lucas thought, it won’t be long now.

Moses Forrester sat in a straight-backed chair behind a small table on the raised stage of the briefing room on the sixty-third floor of the Temporal Army Corps Headquarters building at Pendleton Base. On the table before him was a steaming mug of coffee, which was periodically freshened by his orderly.

Beside the coffee mug was an ashtray into which he tossed his wooden matches, an archaic affectation, and tapped out his pipe. He smoked continually and, to pass the time, watched the terminal before him, which he had switched to outdoor scan.

The cameras showed him different views of the Departure Station sixty-three stories below. There was no sound, for he wanted none, but he could imagine the sounds out there. It was part of the world he lived in every day. Down there in the Departure Station, men and women of the Temporal Army Corps congregated in groups in the center of the giant plaza as ground shuttles zipped through the crowds, carrying the supplies and personnel to their clockout points. Many soldiers sat in the bars which ringed the plaza, enjoying a last drink or two before being clocked out to their missions. Overhead, skimmers wound their way through the maze of pedestrian spans which connected the various buildings of the base.

A computer-generated voice announced departure codes and grid designations for the soldiers to report to.

Code Yellow 38, Grid 600. To the Spanish-American War. Code Green 67, Grid 515. To an arbitration action in Korea. Code Indigo 14, Grid 227. Destination—the Asteroid Belt in the 24th century, scene of the last modern, non-temporal war.

Soon it would change. The departure grids would be replaced by warp discs, but meanwhile, the new technology had not reached the regular corps yet. Only the First Division had them. Only the temporal adjustment teams and a group of renegade time pirates led by Forrester’s own son.