Phoebe settled Clarice in a spare cot in her room before rejoining Mr Doyle and the others. ‘She’s sound asleep,’ she said. ‘I don’t think she’s had a good night’s rest in weeks. Understandable, considering the circumstances.’
It turned out Clarice had been orphaned and taken in by her grandfather at a young age. Jack understood this pain: losing his own parents was the most traumatic experience he had ever endured.
The next morning the captain began their final course corrections to Smollett’s Island. Mr Doyle broke the news to Tobias Bradstreet about the stowaway.
He was less than pleased. ‘I run a tight operation,’ he said. ‘She should be thrown into the brig for the duration of the voyage.’
But he calmed down when Mr Doyle explained the girl’s reasons for stowing away.
‘Just make certain she stays out of trouble. This is a historic expedition. I don’t want it ruined by the actions of a silly girl.’
The Explorer cut across the ocean like a bird the next morning as Jack and Scarlet strolled the decks with Clarice. She and her grandfather had travelled all over the world together, and she had learnt a great deal about ancient history and archaeology.
‘I don’t know what I’ll do if I lost him,’ she said, staring out at the clouds. ‘I can’t imagine life alone.’
‘Don’t you have any other family?’ Jack asked.
‘I’ve got an aunt, but I haven’t seen her for years.’
‘Best not to worry about things before they happen,’ Scarlet said. ‘We’ll find a cure with Phoebe and Mr Doyle’s help.’
Jack pointed to the far horizon. ‘What’s that out there?’ he asked. ‘Is that an island?’
‘I think it is,’ Scarlet said. ‘Let’s tell Mr Doyle.’
They found the detective. ‘I believe you’re right,’ he said. ‘Which means that now is probably a good time to have a word with the captain.’
‘What about?’ Jack asked.
But Mr Doyle did not speak again until they reached the bridge. Here they found the ship’s officers deep in discussion with Tobias Bradstreet.
‘Are we interrupting?’ Mr Doyle asked.
‘Somewhat,’ said Captain Malone rudely.
‘Is there a problem?’
‘We think so,’ Bradstreet said. ‘There is an airship following us.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘There’s no reason for it to be out here. We’re completely off the normal shipping lanes.’
‘Oh dear,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Perhaps I should have spoken up earlier.’
‘About what?’ Tobias Bradstreet looked baffled. ‘What are you talking about?’
Mr Doyle pointed at the first officer, Reg Smythe, who was examining a navigation map. ‘I suggest you place Mr Smythe under guard,’ he said. ‘He is a danger to this ship.’
‘What?’ Smythe’s mouth fell open. ‘That’s outrageous! I don’t know what you’re talking about!’
Mr Doyle said to Bradstreet, ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I made a point of reading Mr Smythe’s curriculum vitae.’
‘You broke into my office?’
‘All for a good cause. Mr Smythe’s employment history states that he was born in Surrey, attending St John’s School for Boys before joining the Royal Air Force and serving with distinction during the war. At its conclusion, he worked in the merchant air navy, transporting goods across India for three years before returning to England.’
Smythe was furious. ‘What of it?’ he demanded.
‘It is all a lie,’ said Mr Doyle.
‘How dare you! I’m a man of my word!’
‘Poppycock. You were born and raised in Newcastle. Your father was a farrier and you went on to follow in his footsteps. When the war began, you rose no higher than the rank of able seaman aboard a navy ship.’
‘That’s…that’s…’
‘You supposedly spent time in Nepal,’ Mr Doyle continued. ‘Yet had no idea what I meant when I mentioned the Goddess of the Earth.’
‘I—’
‘What does it mean? Quickly, man!’
‘I…I refuse—’
‘You mean you can’t. It is the translation for the word Chomolungma, the local Nepalese name for Everest, as anyone who has ever lived or worked in that region knows. In addition, your training in the operations of an airship began less than six months ago. You—’
Reg Smythe produced a gun and waved it at them. ‘You’re some sort of demon,’ he snarled. ‘But that will not affect our plans. You were all doomed anyway.’ He pointed the gun at Captain Malone. ‘I might start with our stout captain.’
A shot rang out—but the captain did not fall. The gun flew from Smythe’s hand and cluttered to one side. He doubled over, grasping his bloody hand. He made another grab for the weapon, but the crew had him helpless on the ground in seconds.
Jack turned in amazement to see Mr Doyle’s coat pocket now had a hole in it. The detective pulled out his hand to reveal his gun, Clarabelle, a trail of smoke still curling from the barrel.
‘I dislike shooting people,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Even a scoundrel as wretched as Smythe.’
The first officer was handcuffed and dragged off to the brig. Tobias Bradstreet was remarkably composed, but Captain Malone’s face was white. Jack helped him to a nearby chair.
‘Ignatius!’ Bradstreet said. ‘How on earth did you know he was a fraud?’
‘Just a simple assemblage of the clues,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘His ignorance about Everest was just the beginning. Once I checked his resumé I discovered several other glaring inconsistencies.
‘Although he had travelled, I could tell his native accent was from the north of England, not the south. I noticed him bend over the other day, but his stance made it obvious he had worked with horses. Farriers have a particular way of holding the horses’ legs and he did that instinctively.’
Jack spoke up. ‘But how did you know he had been in the navy?’
‘Simplicity itself. Navy men have a distinctive manner of walking. It is a rolling gait. With airship pilots it is quite different. As to his training, I only had to observe him using the controls for a few minutes to ascertain he was an amateur.’
Captain Malone mopped sweat from his face. ‘I just thought he was out of practice,’ he admitted.
‘More than that, unfortunately. He was a complete fraud.’
One of the crew approached the captain. ‘Sir? That other airship’s gaining on us.’
Captain Malone grabbed a pair of binoculars. ‘It is gaining,’ he said. ‘But we’ll reach Smollett’s Island first.’
Bradstreet pointed to a mountain range dominating the island. ‘Can you navigate us past that peak so we’ll be out of sight? You can drop us off and continue on. There’s an island chain west of here. They may believe you’re heading for them and follow you there instead.’
The captain started yelling orders. The engines surged and the Explorer crossed the coast, rounded the mountains and rapidly descended.
‘This is not the expedition I had in mind,’ Bradstreet said. ‘There are emergency packs in the aft cargo bay near the exit. Grab one each and make ready to disembark.’
Bradstreet said he would join them shortly. He asked Mr Doyle to locate Charles Spaulding, his men, and all the women on board. The latter he wanted evacuated in case things turned nasty.
The group assembled in the cargo bay. Spaulding and his men prepared their equipment. Mr Doyle checked his pockets, taking out a piece of cheese and gnawing it, deep in thought.
Suddenly the Explorer dropped. Scarlet looked worried as they peered through an observation portal to see the landscape fly past. Jack’s stomach filled with butterflies when they swooped in low over a beach.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ Jack said to Phoebe. ‘Everything will be fine.’
‘Who’s nervous?’ she asked, breaking into a grin. ‘We might be walking the streets of New Atlantis in the next few hours.’
‘Or shot out of the sky before we make land,’ Scarlet muttered.
A pair of crewmen readied the lower doors as the Explorer’s steam engines went into reverse. The vessel shuddered to an untidy halt and Spaulding dispensed backpacks. He, Kip and Tan all carried rifles.
The doors opened, revealing a sandy beach. The men dropped a chain-metal ladder to the ground.
Mr Bradstreet joined them. They scrambled down, assembling in the shadow beneath the airship. Jack peered up at the ship’s enormous underbelly, hovering like a thundercloud.
He felt dazed. After spending days on board the Explorer, they were now on a deserted tropical beach in the middle of nowhere.
The airship’s engines roared to full power and the Explorer moved on, following the beach as it curved around to a distant headland. It would be far out at sea within minutes. Jack’s eyes followed the ship longingly. He wondered when they would see it again.
The sun beat down. It was almost lunchtime and Jack’s stomach was rumbling.
‘I hope this works,’ Bradstreet said. ‘With any luck, they won’t realise we’re on the island and they’ll continue following the Explorer.’
‘We should take refuge in the jungle,’ Mr Spaulding said. ‘We’re sitting ducks out here.’
The group pushed through a thick tangle of undergrowth into a small clearing. Palm trees created a canopy. Ferns choked the ground, while vines spanned the jungle like rigging on a sailing ship. Mostly it was a sea of green, but there were splashes of colour: orchids, lilies, violets, protea. Jack had never seen anything like it before.
‘Where to now?’ Mr Doyle asked.
Tobias Bradstreet turned to Phoebe. ‘What would you advise? Was the Broken Sun specific as to where to search?’
‘No, but I have an idea.’ She pointed at two nearby mountain peaks that dominated the skyline. ‘Plato said that the original city lay beyond the pillars of Hercules.’
‘That’s generally regarded as being a reference to the Strait of Gibraltar,’ Bradstreet said.
Phoebe nodded. ‘But I wonder if the Atlanteans may have adopted a similar plan for New Atlantis, a location where two mountain tops act as a gate?’
Bradstreet sighed. ‘I don’t have a better idea. At least from up there we’ll be able to see most of the island.’
‘And something may stand out.’
They continued into the forest. It quickly became apparent that Bradstreet had chosen well when he employed Charles Spaulding and his men: they wielded machetes as if born with them in their hands. Despite the thick terrain, they made it yield, carving a path for the rest to follow.
There had been a light breeze on the beach, but the jungle was hot and sticky. Jack was sweating beneath his coat, and his pack was heavy with supplies.
Wild birds gave strange cries. A flock of red-and-green parrots broke from some trees and disappeared into the distance. The scream of a strange creature cut the air, and Jack caught a glimpse of fur as it scampered away on faraway branches.
An explosion sounded behind them.
‘Good Lord!’ Bradstreet cried.
‘That sounds like cannon fire,’ Mr Doyle said.
‘We need to go back.’
‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ Spaulding said. ‘We should make headway while we can.’
‘The Explorer is my ship,’ Bradstreet said, ‘and her crew my responsibility.’
They raced back along the makeshift path to the beach. The Explorer was now off the coast, heading west. Another vessel, a black cigar-shaped airship with a silver gondola, was directly behind. A brass cannon protruded from it. Mr Doyle produced his goggles to take a closer look.
Boom!
‘They’re firing on our ship!’ Bradstreet said. ‘That’s outrageous!’
‘It looks like things are about to become a great deal worse,’ Mr Spaulding said grimly.
A light, brighter than the sun, appeared on one side of the Explorer’s balloon. Then the entire hydrogen-filled cell erupted into a ball of flame.
Ka-boom!
Everyone screamed as the Explorer tumbled from the sky. Trailing smoke, it disappeared beyond a range of far hills, crashing into the water.
‘Those monsters,’ Phoebe cried. ‘All those people on the ship…’
‘Could the crew have survived?’ Mr Doyle asked.
‘There is some hope,’ Bradstreet said, looking ill. ‘The Explorer is designed to float, but I don’t know if the ship—or the people aboard—could survive such an impact.’
‘More problems coming,’ Kip said.
Tan had lifted his arm towards the distant hills. The black vessel had turned and was now heading in their direction.