FIRST EARTH

The elegant ocean liner Queen Mary was escorted safely through New York Harbor by six small tugboats. Its enormous hull dwarfed the feisty little crafts as they pushed and prodded the floating city past the Statue of Liberty, through the Verrazano Narrows, and into the deep trench of the Atlantic Ocean, where they peeled off and bid the grand liner a farewell as it continued under its own power toward England.

Courtney and Dodger didn’t see any of that. They had found a quiet little restaurant on a lower deck of the ship that had not yet opened for business. Soon the place would be busy with passengers eager to sample the delights of the renowned kitchens. Until then, it was the perfect place to sit quietly and read Bobby’s journal.

Courtney finished first. She left the pages with Dodger and gazed through a round porthole at the ocean. She had never been on an ocean liner and didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t sense any movement at all, only the steady thrum of the ship’s engines. As she looked out on the horizon, she knew what she had to do, but had no clue how to go about it.

“That settles it,” Dodger said with finality. “We made the right move. We should be on this ship.”

“It’s hard to know what to think,” Courtney said wistfully. “I’m not sure what’s right and wrong anymore. Saint Dane has broken down the barriers between the territories, and it’s about to lead to the final destruction of Veelox. But Mark and I interfered with Eelong and it saved that territory! Now I’m on a ship from the past, trying to change the future back to what it was in the first place. It’s all becoming so incredibly…impossible.”

“Becoming?” Dodger asked.

He joined Courtney at the porthole. “All I know is what I read in these journals and what you tell me. I can’t say if it’s okay to monkey with one territory over another. It’s all science fiction to me. But I know the difference between right and wrong. Saint Dane is going to take those dado things and hurt a lot of people. That’s about as wrong as it gets. If we can stop him by stopping Mark, well, we ain’t got a whole lot of choice.”

Courtney looked at Dodger. Her eyes were watery. Dodger didn’t ask why, and even if he had, Courtney wouldn’t have had an answer. The list was too long. “Do you really think we can save Veelox by stopping Mark?”

Dodger chuckled. “I guess it’s possible, but you’re asking the wrong guy. Besides, what else are we gonna do on this tub? Play shuffleboard?”

Courtney laughed in spite of herself. “This is going to be tough. We’re stowaways, but we can’t hide. We’ve got to search the ship.”

“Not a problem,” Dodger said with confidence. “Hiding is the worst thing a stowaway could do. I say we stroll around like we owned the ship. Let people see us. Nobody will know if we’ve got a cabin or not. You’re with the right fella, Courtney. This ship is a floating hotel. I know hotels. We’re going to find Mark. The hard part comes after that.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve gotta stop him. I can’t help you there.”

Courtney looked back out at the ocean. The biggest question was still not answered. Why had Mark left Second Earth to change history? Until she learned that, she didn’t know how she would convince him to stop.

“We don’t have much time,” Courtney cautioned.

“Nah, we got six days till we dock, plenty of time.”

“But it isn’t,” Courtney said quickly. “History said that a body from the Queen Mary washed up in New Jersey. Maybe it was Mark and maybe it wasn’t, but whoever it was, unless you believe a body could float from the middle of the ocean all the way back to New Jersey, the shooting is going to happen while we’re still close to the United States.”

Dodger whistled in awe. “Hadn’t thought of that.”

“So on top of everything else, we’ve got to solve a murder before it happens,” Courtney concluded.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get cracking,” Dodger announced enthusiastically. “I say we split up. You search the decks. I’ll bet Mark is out walking around right now. You don’t take a cruise to sit alone in your room.”

“You don’t know Mark,” Courtney cautioned. “He’s probably in his cabin eating carrots and reading.”

“Carrots?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, well, that’s where I come in,” Dodger said confidently. “I’ll get hold of the passenger list and find out what cabin he’s in.”

“How?”

“I told you, I know hotels. Trust me.”

Courtney shrugged. Dodger reached out and took off her floppy hat. “You’re a pretty gal. Don’t go trying to look like a boy. Dressed like that you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

Courtney looked down at her woolen pants and sweater. She suddenly wished she had thought ahead enough to have worn one of those creepy dresses she’d seen in the shop windows back in New York.

“I look like one of those immigrants you see in pictures from Ellis Island,” Courtney admitted, discouraged.

“Don’t worry,” Dodger assured her. “I’ll scare something up for you.”

Courtney nodded. “Where will I find you?”

Dodger thought and said, “I’ll meet you on the bow in an hour. Be careful, keep moving. Avoid the crew, but don’t be obvious about it. They don’t know all the passengers yet.”

“Okay, good luck.”

“Good hunting.” Dodger tipped his cap and ducked out the door.

Courtney was alone again. The task ahead was daunting, but clear. Find Mark. Stop him. Save him, but stop him. She knew she couldn’t fail. It was all about his Forge invention. She had to get him to destroy the model. The moment it was gone, she felt sure that history would change, and all would be as it was meant to be. The dados would no longer exist on Veelox, and the war for Ibara would never begin. Bobby would be safe. Mark would be safe. Halla would be safe.

Courtney stuck her hat in her back pocket and tied her hair up to look as presentable as possible. She took off her sweater and untucked her white shirt. She then tied her sweater around her waist, hoping to look like a sporty kind of girl rather than a stowaway. She looked at her reflection in a mirror that took up an entire wall of the restaurant. She turned up her collar to try looking even more stylish. She realized it was hopeless. She was going to stick out like, well, like a stowaway. She knew her best chance of not getting caught by a crew member was not being seen by a crew member. With that impossible challenge in mind, she set out in search of Mark.

Her plan was to stick to the areas with the biggest crowds. She figured the odds of spotting Mark were better there. Just as important, she hoped to blend in. Those hopes evaporated as soon as she stepped onto the Promenade Deck. It was a wide, enclosed deck, with a ceiling and windows to protect against the elements. Though the frenzy of the boarding process had died down, the place was still alive with people. None of them looked anything like Courtney.

There would be no blending in.

The women all wore dresses or neatly tailored suits. The men were in suits and ties. Courtney always imagined a cruise to be a place where people dressed down and wore shorts and ran around having fun. That wasn’t the case in 1937. She felt like a little kid at a very grown-up party, which is pretty much exactly what she was. Worse, she had crashed the party. She decided the best thing to do was not worry about anything except finding Mark. She thought that if she skulked around looking guilty, somebody was sure to spot her and turn her in. She covered lots of ground quickly and methodically. She first traversed the entire enclosed Promenade Deck, until she ended up back where she’d started. Along the way she kept peering at the men, getting in their faces, hoping one might be Mark. All she got in return was a bunch of strange looks.

Her next step was to climb up to the Sun Deck, which was named because it had no ceiling and only a handrail along the side. Walking along this deck felt much more like being on a ship. She could feel the sun and the wind and the sea spray. Lifeboats hung high over this deck, which reminded her of the movie Titanic. She shook that image out of her head fast. There was enough to worry about without dwelling on ocean disasters.

The late afternoon sun was setting, casting warm light on the water. Courtney wished she could have stopped to enjoy it, like so many of the other passengers who leaned out over the rails. That wasn’t going to happen. She was on a mission. She passed a few people she could have sworn were stars she’d seen in ancient movies. What were their names? Clark Gable? Cary Grant? Cary Gable? She saw a chubby guy who looked like an old-time movie comedian, though she wasn’t sure if it was Laurel or Hardy. Or neither. She made a mental note of trying not to think of these people as being from the past, because on First Earth they were very much in the present. She saw hundreds of people, but no Mark.

Courtney felt much more at ease on the Sports Deck. Here passengers were playing shuffleboard and tennis. Eager sports-minded passengers were out playing in the dying sunlight. Courtney was happy to see that these players didn’t wear dresses and suits. The men wore long pants and sweaters, and the women wore loose skirts. She wanted to hang out on this deck a little more, if only because she didn’t stand out so much in the clothes she had on. It was also kind of unique to watch people playing on the deck of a moving ship at the base of the three massive orange-and-black smokestacks. It might actually have been kind of fun, if it weren’t keeping her from trying to save all of humanity.

After searching unsuccessfully for nearly an hour, it was time to head toward the bow and her rendezvous with Dodger. She realized with frustration how difficult a task finding Mark was going to be. Finding him would take a huge amount of luck. She hoped that Dodger had been able to find out where his cabin was, because running into Mark by accident seemed impossible. The ship was way too big. As she walked toward the bow, she tried to think like Mark. Where would he go? What would he do? The obvious answer was that he’d spend most of the time in his cabin, reading. That was Mark. But Mark was curious, too. He’d never been on a ship before. He’d want to know how it worked. He’d explore. What would be one of his first things to do? She didn’t think he’d spend the whole time reading.

Reading. The realization was as simple as could be. The library. That’s where he’d go. Was there a library on this big ship? There had to be. They had everything else. Without the least bit of concern that they’d ask her who she was and if she had paid for the voyage, she marched right up to one of the stewards, who was serving drinks to a couple tucked snugly into deck chairs.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the library is?” she asked politely.

“Certainly, miss. It’s in Regent Street. Take the—”

“Got it, thanks,” Courtney said, and jogged off. She didn’t even look back to see what she knew would be curious stares at the bold girl in pants. She knew exactly where Regent Street was and how to get there. After being on the Queen Mary for only a few hours, she was beginning to know her way around. She quickly ran down several flights of narrow, wooden stairs that brought her back to the Promenade Deck. She entered the Regent Street shopping mall and moved quickly past the fancy shops. All she wanted was the library. She found it on the far end. She burst through the door, startling a woman behind a desk, who Courtney figured was the librarian.

“Oh!” the woman exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Courtney apologized. She scanned the small room that was ringed with shelves full of leather-bound books. Plenty of books, no people.

“Can I help you, miss?” the older woman asked pleasantly, having regained her composure.

“No, thanks,” Courtney said quickly, then got an idea and approached the desk. “Maybe you can. A friend of mine said he was going to reserve some books and wanted me to pick them up. Could you check for me?”

“Certainly,” the woman said with a slight British accent. “What would his name be?”

“Dimond. Mark Dimond.”

Courtney knew it was a total stab in the dark, but figured it might lead to some information.

“Mark Dimond?” the woman exclaimed. “Sure enough, you just missed him, dear. He picked up his books not five minutes ago.”

Courtney felt as if she’d been hit with a hammer.

“He—He did?” she stuttered. “You’re sure his name was Mark Dimond?”

“Sure as can be,” she said sweetly, looking through a stack of cards. “I spelled his name incorrectly, and he was quick to point out there was no ‘a’ in Dimond. Sweet young lad.”

Courtney was still reeling. “Dark hair? Bad skin? Glasses?”

“Yes, dear, that’s him. Is there a problem?”

“No,” Courtney blurted out. “No problem. What’s his cabin number?”

The woman held the cards close to her chest. Courtney sensed a sudden air of suspicion. “Forgive me,” she said curtly. “I’m not at liberty to give out that information. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” Courtney said as she backed toward the door. “Did he say where he was going?”

“Indeed he did. He planned on watching the sunset on the stern with his friend. It’s a wonderful sight.”

“Thank you,” Courtney said. “Thank you very much.” She turned for the door, stopped short, and looked back to the librarian. “His friend?”

“Yes. Quite the pretty girl, I must say. That Mr. Dimond must be a catch if he’s got two such lovely ladies chasing after him.”

Courtney blasted out of the library and hurried for the Promenade Deck. She nearly knocked over a steward as she launched out of Regent Street and sprinted along the wooden deck toward the stern of the ship. She didn’t care who gave her a second look. Mark was on the ship. She’d just missed him. Her heart raced, and it wasn’t because she was running.

The deck wasn’t crowded anymore. Courtney figured everyone was getting settled in and ready for their fancy dinners. That was good. Less people to dodge. She made it to the end of the enclosed portion of the Promenade Deck and ran outside to face a big, orange November sun that was setting over the coast of the United States. The passengers outside were silhouetted against the orange ball, so it was difficult to make out details. She ran to the aft railing of the Promenade Deck and looked to the decks below.

Many people were outside to enjoy the sunset. All eyes were to the west. Nobody was looking back at her. Her frustration grew. It was impossible to make anybody out. She was about to start sprinting along each deck to get a closer look at the people when her eye caught something two decks below. There was a couple standing close to each other. They wore long, dark gray woolen coats to keep the sea chill away. The man wore one of those fedora hats. The woman was a few inches taller than he was. Her hair was dark brown, cut just above her shoulders. It was parted on the side and perfectly combed under a small, gray hat. Though there was a sea breeze, not one hair looked out of place. Her back was to the sun as she spoke to the man, which meant she faced Courtney. Even from where she was, Courtney could tell the woman was pretty. But none of those details mattered as much as the fact that the man clutched two leather books under his arm. The guy might have just come from the library.

He turned to face the woman, and Courtney saw his profile. He wore wire-rimmed glasses. A slight curl of black hair could be seen creeping from under his hat.

Courtney stopped breathing.

“Ma—,” she began to yell, but was rudely yanked away from the railing and shoved against an outside wall. She hit the steel hard.

“Ahoy, Chetwynde,” came a familiar voice.

Courtney focused on the man who had attacked her. He wore a long dark coat and peered at her from underneath the brim of a gray hat.

“Nothing like a little sea air to get the blood moving, is there?” the guy said, after which he snorted and spit out a loogie onto the deck.

“Mitchell,” Courtney gasped.

“Welcome aboard,” Andy Mitchell said with a sneer.

Saint Dane was back in play.