Phil slapped the container where Butch was hidden, standing perfectly still and listening to every word they were saying, his mind still racing. The dinosaurs had hatched. Butch was losing his hiding place to make room for them.
“All we can do now is some preliminary work,” Phil continued. “We’ll need supplies to actually build the room.”
“We’ll pick them up when we get to New Zealand.”
“We’re not going to New Zealand.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We aren’t going any farther than Kaikoura Canyon. We’re not making landfall. We’re staying in international waters where Blackwood’s legal eagles can’t touch us. I’ll have to have the supplies freighted out to us.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Only a handful of people do. I’m sure Wolfe would have told you if you’d been here. He’s not even going into port to refuel. We’ll have to do that with a tanker at sea. In fact, maybe I can get the tanker to haul in the supplies for us.”
“He hasn’t told the crew yet?”
“They’ll learn soon enough. We’ll be at Kaikoura in less than forty-eight hours.”
“When we get back to Cryptos, what’s to prevent Blackwood’s legal team from going after Grace?”
“Jurisdiction. Officially, Cryptos doesn’t exist. Unofficially, it’s a country unto itself. A protectorate of the United States, but not subject to its laws — except taxes. Wolfe and Ted couldn’t talk them out of that one.”
“How did they end up with an island all to themselves?” Laurel asked.
“Not even I know the answer to that, except that it had to do with something they did for the government years ago. As payment, at their request, they were given a hundred-year lease for the island.”
“Whatever they did must have been huge.”
“You’re right about that. But they didn’t want money. They wanted the island and to be left alone.”
“This happened after they caught the great white shark for Blackwood?”
“No. They had the island before that. They hired on with Noah to get the seed money to start eWolfe, and that’s another reason Noah has it in for Wolfe. After they brought the great white in, he expected them to stay on with him. But they had other plans, which in Wolfe’s case included eloping with Blackwood’s only child, Rose — ensuring that Noah would be his enemy forever. And Butch McCall isn’t far behind Noah in his hatred of Wolfe. Butch had been eyeing Rose for years, figuring that he would become Noah’s son-in-law and the heir apparent to Blackwood’s fortune. It’s been a bitter history, and now with Grace as Blackwood’s only living relative, it’s gotten even more convoluted. Noah has declared all-out war, and Wolfe and Ted are going to protect their den like tigers with cubs. They …”
Phil and Laurel walked to the far side of the hold out of Butch’s hearing range, then a few minutes later wandered back past his container.
“So much for the history lesson,” Phil was saying. “I’ll send a crew down tomorrow to move some of the containers. As soon as Ted gives us the design I’ll order the material and we’ll have it up in no time.”
“This place kind of gives me the willies. I sense danger.”
“Wolfe told me that you were … uh … sensitive.”
“In what way?”
“Nothing negative. He just said that he thought that sometimes you see and feel things others don’t. Maybe what you’re feeling down here is the ship’s violent past. I’m not saying that the ship is haunted, but I do think that horrors can linger. I’ve never felt it myself, but when I was in the military I knew soldiers who could tell you where bad things had happened long after the fact.”
“I think it’s more immediate than that, but we’ll let it go for now.”
Butch didn’t move until the lights went out and the door clicked closed at the top of the companionway.
Up to this point he had maintained strict radio silence, but with these new developments he was going to have to risk breaking it. He composed a long, detailed email to Noah Blackwood on the Gizmo, read it over twice, then hit the SEND button.
With the email sent, he quickly gathered his meager belongings. He was going to have to find new living quarters. And he knew just where to look.
* * *
It took two days and nights for Marty and Bertha to get the mess squared away. During that time, Marty did not leave the galley once, preferring to take short naps on the cot Wolfe brought in for him to sleep on.
Bertha was uncharacteristically passive, leaving every decision to Marty as if she were his lieutenant and Marty was the general.
Marty watched all of the cooks, figured out their culinary strengths and weaknesses, and assigned prep stations accordingly. At first they were resentful about taking orders from a kid, but that quickly passed when they saw that the kid knew exactly what he was doing. All those years Marty had spent in the kitchen at Omega Prep with some of Europe’s great chefs were paying off. The compliments from the crew over the delicious food energized not only Marty but the entire galley staff. The good food put smiles on everyone’s faces.
Those same smiles faded a bit when Wolfe announced that they had arrived at Kaikoura Canyon and would be going no farther — that they would be anchored above the canyon and stay there until they caught a giant squid, then head straight back to Seattle without shore leave in New Zealand. But even with this news the crew was still happier than they had been on the voyage from Cryptos. There had been no more accidents and only a couple of reports of things missing or being mysteriously moved.
Late in the evening of his second day as galley supervisor, Marty told Bertha he needed to go up to the deck for some fresh air.
“We have it under control down here,” Bertha said. “Take your time. In fact, why don’t you spend the night in your own cabin? Let’s see how the cooks do on their own.”
“Deal,” Marty said. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
On his way up he was tempted to stop at Lab Nine and check on the hatchlings, but he was too desperate for fresh air. Forty-eight hours of butter, olive oil, garlic, onions, fish, dough, and meat had been enough. He didn’t want to add dinosaur poop to the mix before he filled his lungs with brisk sea air.
Grace, Luther, Wolfe, and Laurel had all been in the mess to eat and had told him about what was happening with the hatchlings. They had outgrown the incubator and had been moved to a pen on the floor of the lab. They were walking now and had taken a shine to Luther, following him around like chicks following a mother hen. Grace was a little jealous of their obvious affection for Luther. She said the only reason they liked him better was that he had given them their first taste of blood.
Marty reached the deck and took in a deep breath of fresh sea air, which smelled like perfume compared to the greasy galley. The dark sky was moonless, lit by millions of stars. The Coelacanth was anchored. He walked over to the rail and looked down at the water. Somewhere beneath the dark water a giant squid awaited.
Tomorrow, if things are going well in the galley, I’ll spend the day on deck getting some sun, he thought. I can fly the dragonspy and goof a —
Something slammed into his back and he was falling over the wrong side of the rail. One of his flailing hands managed to snag the edge of the scupper and he came to a shoulder-wrenching stop. He managed to get his other hand onto the scupper, but his position was still precarious. His first thought was that Bo was loose again. She loved sneaking up behind people and pushing them, but the push had been too hard. Something a lot bigger than Bo had hit him. He tried to pull himself up, but he didn’t have enough strength. He began to yell his head off. The sharp edge of the scupper was cutting off the circulation to his fingers. If someone didn’t hear him in a minute or so, he was going to drop into the dark sea and never be heard from again.
He looked up as he continued to shout for help. The bottom rung of the rail was a good two feet above his head, impossible to grab, even if his shou
lder wasn’t killing him. It was a miracle that he had caught the scupper, but all the miracle was going to do was delay a watery death.
“Someone help me!”
Marty felt for some kind of purchase with his toes to help relieve his aching arms and fingers. There was nothing but the slick metal skin of the old ship. He wished Wolfe had reactivated his tracking tag when he’d sentenced Marty to kitchen patrol. If it were active, he could tear it off and Roy or Joe would come running. The Gizmo was in his pocket, but he was afraid to pull it out. He’d never be able to hang on with one arm. He wondered if Ted had thought to make the Gizmo waterproof. There was a good chance it was. Ted had thought of everything else. He might be able to make a call after he hit the water, if a shark didn’t get him first.
“Help! Man overboard! Boy overboard! Help!”
“Grab the line.”
A rope flew over the rail and slapped the hull right next to him.
Marty grabbed it with tears of relief flowing down his face.
“I’m alone!” a voice shouted above him. “I can’t pull you up. Can you climb on your own?”
“I think so!” Marty shouted back. The rough rope felt like soft leather compared to the edge of the scupper. He ignored the pain in his shoulder and fingers and started up the rope like a monkey, desperate to get the deck under his feet. When he reached the bottom rail, a pair of hands reached out and pulled him over the top.
The hands belonged to Theo Sonborn.
“I thought I lost you,” Theo said. “You gotta be more careful.”
Marty’s grateful grin turned into a sour frown as he got to his feet.
“I was pushed.”
“Pushed? Why would someone push you?”
“That’s a good question, Theo. But here’s a better one. Where were you when I was pushed?”
“You don’t think I pushed you?”
Marty didn’t answer.
“Why would I push you overboard, then save you?”
“Maybe because I managed to save myself and I was screaming my head off and you thought someone else might hear me. If I happened to see you before I went over and someone else saved me, it would be all over for you — I know you’re one of Noah Blackwood’s spies.”
“I didn’t push you. I saved you. And I’m not one of Noah Blackwood’s spies. But I would still like to know more about those dinosaur eggs you were telling me about the other day.”
“You were talking about dinosaur eggs and I told you that it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. There are no dinosaur eggs.” Which is true, Marty thought. At least it is now.
Theo smiled. “Come on, Marty. I didn’t push you. If it weren’t for me, you’d be swimming with the fishes. The very least you can do is tell me about those eggs. And I ain’t working for Blackwood on the sly. I just want to know to satisfy my own curiosity.”
“I’ll tell you what, Theo. How about you and I go find Wolfe and you can ask him about the dinosaur eggs?”
“Okay,” Theo said.
This wasn’t the answer Marty was expecting. “You really want to ask Wolfe about the eggs?”
“Why not?”
“All right,” Marty said, rubbing his sore shoulder. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Grace and Laurel were heading to Grace’s cabin. They had just finished their shift, feeding the hatchlings more than two pounds of meat each — their third meal that day. The hatchlings would sleep for three or four hours now. Luther was keeping an eye on them.
As soon as they walked into the cabin, Congo screeched and flew to Laurel’s shoulder.
“I see you’re feeling better,” Laurel said.
“That’s the first time he’s flown since Wolfe set his broken wing,” Grace said.
Congo nibbled Laurel’s earlobe.
“That tickles.”
“I’m sure he feels neglected. I’ve hardly been in here since the eggs hatched.”
“That’s not all that’s been neglected,” Laurel said, pointing to the paper and books strewn all around the cabin. “What is all this?”
“The illuminated manuscript that belonged to my mother. Wolfe gave it to me for my birthday.”
“You’re trying to translate it,” Laurel said.
“Yes, but I haven’t gotten very far. My mother was trying to translate it, too.”
“How far did she get?”
“I don’t know.”
Laurel glanced at the trunk in the corner of the cabin. For the first time, Grace regretted bringing the trunk on board, because she knew what Laurel’s next question would be.
“Why haven’t you opened the trunk?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes,” Grace said, so quietly she wasn’t certain she had said it out loud.
“I completely understand,” Laurel said. “I think I would be nervous, too.”
“But you would open it anyway,” Grace said.
“Probably.”
“I’ve gotten over so many of my fears since you taught me how to focus on the high wire, but I haven’t been able to look inside the trunk.”
“You brought the trunk aboard,” Laurel said. “At least you’re trying to overcome that fear.”
“Marty doesn’t think so. He’s asked me a dozen times if I’ve opened it.”
“That’s because it’s the essence of your mother that’s inside, not his. It’s full of her thoughts and dreams and memories — and what are we without those? Sometimes the simplest fears are the most difficult to conquer. As simple as opening a trunk.” Laurel walked over to the illuminated manuscript. “Do you know why you’re trying to decipher this?”
“Curiosity,” Grace answered.
“That might be. But here’s another reason to consider: Perhaps you’re trying to translate the manuscript because you know you can’t.”
“What?”
“Think about it, Grace. You brought both the manuscript and the trunk with you on the voyage, when you knew you’d be going back to Cryptos. Why?”
“Because Wolfe thought my grandfather would send people to Cryptos and I didn’t want them to steal the trunk. And I didn’t bring the manuscript with me. Wolfe brought it and gave it to me here on the Coelacanth on my birthday. We were at sea.”
“But you knew the manuscript had been removed from the display case in the library on Cryptos.”
“Yes.”
“And you weren’t surprised when Wolfe gave it to you for your birthday.”
“No.”
“I think you brought the trunk because of the manuscript. You’re hoping your frustration over the translation will make you open the trunk. Your mother was a brilliant woman. Wolfe told me she spent years trying to decipher the manuscript. Everything she knows about it is in the trunk. But there are a lot of other things in that trunk as well. Things that you are afraid to learn.”
“What if my mother wasn’t the woman I think she was?” Grace asked.
“You didn’t even know she was your mother until a few weeks ago. What if your mother is more remarkable than you think?”
“It’s ridiculous, I know,” Grace said. “Will you open it with me?”
“I wish I could, but you know as well as I do that I can’t help you conquer your fears any more than you can help me conquer mine.”
Laurel put out her index finger and Congo climbed onto it. She moved him back over to his perch.
“I guess we’d better check on our two friends and Luther,” she said, smiling. “Make sure they haven’t eaten him.”
Grace looked at the trunk. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay here for a while.”
Laurel gave her a kiss on the forehead and left her alone in the cabin.
* * *
Butch McCall was stretched out on his new cot with his hands behind his head, a satisfied grin on his face, surrounded by his new friends, all of which had eight arms and two tentacles.
One down, he thought
, a few more to go. Wolfe, Laurel, that obnoxious reporter Ana, Bertha, and maybe even Luther Smyth and Phil, if the opportunity presented itself.
Marty O’Hara had been so easy to dispatch….
Butch had just finished a perfectly broiled rib-eye steak (rare) in the mess and had been thinking about getting some dessert when a haggard-looking Marty O’Hara pushed through the galley doors. Dessert could wait.
He’d followed Marty up to the abandoned deck, watched him lean over the rail, and hit him squarely in the back with both hands.
Butch hadn’t even waited to hear the splash. He’d strolled back to his new home — Lepod’s lab. He’d told Lepod that he’d had a falling-out with his supervisor, and Lepod had been delighted to take the gentle Dr. O’Connor on as his assistant. Butch had suggested they move a cot into the lab so he could monitor the filtration system 24/7.
If it weren’t for the rotten fish smell, the lab would have been perfect. Butch found the bluish light from the aquariums and the squid jetting through the salt water relaxing. He was growing quite fond of squid and was thinking about removing calamari from his diet entirely. It seemed a shame to eat such an efficient predator. They were opportunistic — just like Butch had been when he’d caught Marty leaning over the rail. By now the sharks were gulping the boy down, or perhaps a giant squid had found him, pulled him into the deep, and was tearing him apart with its beak.
With that pleasant picture in his mind, Butch closed his eyes and fell asleep.
* * *
“Come in,” Wolfe said from behind his heavy teak door.
Marty and Theo walked in.
It was the first time Marty had been inside Wolfe’s cabin. It was at least twice the size of his and Luther’s. And Wolfe needed the room. The cabin was crammed with electronic equipment: monitors, computers, radios, and other stuff Marty couldn’t even name. The cabin looked like the “Wolfe Den” back on Cryptos, the room that was the heart of Wolfe’s cryptid search — and the search for Marty’s parents in South America. Luther would love this room, Marty thought.