Read Online History Keepers: Nightship to China by Dibben Damian - Free Book Online
Authors: Dibben Damian
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off. It flew into the night, guided by the gold rings of the Constantor towards the horizon point.
From time to time, Jake glanced at Galliana standing at the helm, the wind in her long grey hair. He realized that he only knew her in the context of the island, as an administrator – not as an adventurer. Now, for the first time, he got a sense of what she must have been like as a young agent in the field, determined and calm. Suddenly he longed to know about the missions she had undertaken. ‘Commander,’ he ventured, ‘may I ask, how can we be sure that the SOS did not come from an enemy faction?’
‘Mayday signals are encrypted like all Meslith messages,’ she replied, her eyes glancing at the Constantor, ‘but of course, there is never a hundred per cent certainty.’
Jupitus illustrated the point by removing pistols from a chest beside the helm. He handed one each to Galliana and Chatterju – but none to Jake.
‘Everyone to be armed, Mr Cole,’ the commander declared coolly.
Jupitus passed another weapon over, saying, ‘As a precaution only, you understand?’ Jake nodded.
As the three golden discs on the Constantor began to align, they became even more vigilant, scanning the ocean for any sign of a vessel in trouble. Sturdy waves rolled across the Atlantic.
Jake, watching from the starboard rail, noticed it first: a soft whistling in the air. He looked around, scanning the dark water. The mysterious sound grew shriller and louder. ‘There’s something here,’ he called, and Jupitus and Chatterju rushed over. As they watched, bubbles foamed on the surface; then the water began to curve in on itself, creating a hollow in the sea: the imprint of the hull of a ship that hadn’t yet materialized through time. Jake felt a pulse of fear.
As Jupitus and Chatterju cocked their guns, there was a sudden intense rush of air, then an explosion of spectral light, immediately followed by shouts and the creaking of timbers as the vessel suddenly took shape, filling the void.
She was a small sailing yacht, half the size of their own ship. It was certainly not the
Escape
; not his parents. But who could it be?
‘Right hand down!’ Jupitus yelled to the commander, fearing they might forge straight into it. She obeyed, narrowly missing the yacht.
Jake could see that the other ship was in danger: her prow was sinking and water foamed up through the smashed timbers of the deck. A man in a high-collared coat, seemingly the only person on board, stood with his legs braced as he shouted for help over the tumult. He was Galliana’s age – in his fifties, Jake guessed – and had the bearing of an adventurer. His thick hair was still blond despite his age, and seemed oddly familiar to Jake. He was obviously not the enemy, as Jupitus and Chatterju immediately threw down their weapons.
Without hesitation Jupitus jumped up onto the rail and flung himself over the foaming water onto the troubled ship, sliding down the raked deck towards the man. ‘Are you all right? Are you hurt?’ Jake heard him ask. The man nodded to his arm, indicating that it was broken. ‘Are you alone?’ A firm nod.
Jupitus clasped him around the waist and led him up the deck, calling out to Chatterju to throw him a rope. Jake noticed that the man was clutching a leather satchel under his good arm.
‘Who is that?’ Jake asked the commander.
For a moment she did not reply; just stared at him, perplexed. ‘It’s Isaksen,’ she replied in a worried tone. ‘Caspar Isaksen Senior – or Fredrik, as we know him.’
Jake’s eyes went wide. The name Isaksen sent a shiver down his spine. This was the head of the famous producers of atomium; the father of the double-dealing Caspar Junior – that’s why Jake had recognized his blond hair.
‘What’s he doing here?’ Galliana murmured. ‘In twenty years, he has not once left Sweden.’
Jupitus was using the rope to pull Isaksen towards the
Tulip
, when there was a splintering of wood. The
From time to time, Jake glanced at Galliana standing at the helm, the wind in her long grey hair. He realized that he only knew her in the context of the island, as an administrator – not as an adventurer. Now, for the first time, he got a sense of what she must have been like as a young agent in the field, determined and calm. Suddenly he longed to know about the missions she had undertaken. ‘Commander,’ he ventured, ‘may I ask, how can we be sure that the SOS did not come from an enemy faction?’
‘Mayday signals are encrypted like all Meslith messages,’ she replied, her eyes glancing at the Constantor, ‘but of course, there is never a hundred per cent certainty.’
Jupitus illustrated the point by removing pistols from a chest beside the helm. He handed one each to Galliana and Chatterju – but none to Jake.
‘Everyone to be armed, Mr Cole,’ the commander declared coolly.
Jupitus passed another weapon over, saying, ‘As a precaution only, you understand?’ Jake nodded.
As the three golden discs on the Constantor began to align, they became even more vigilant, scanning the ocean for any sign of a vessel in trouble. Sturdy waves rolled across the Atlantic.
Jake, watching from the starboard rail, noticed it first: a soft whistling in the air. He looked around, scanning the dark water. The mysterious sound grew shriller and louder. ‘There’s something here,’ he called, and Jupitus and Chatterju rushed over. As they watched, bubbles foamed on the surface; then the water began to curve in on itself, creating a hollow in the sea: the imprint of the hull of a ship that hadn’t yet materialized through time. Jake felt a pulse of fear.
As Jupitus and Chatterju cocked their guns, there was a sudden intense rush of air, then an explosion of spectral light, immediately followed by shouts and the creaking of timbers as the vessel suddenly took shape, filling the void.
She was a small sailing yacht, half the size of their own ship. It was certainly not the
Escape
; not his parents. But who could it be?
‘Right hand down!’ Jupitus yelled to the commander, fearing they might forge straight into it. She obeyed, narrowly missing the yacht.
Jake could see that the other ship was in danger: her prow was sinking and water foamed up through the smashed timbers of the deck. A man in a high-collared coat, seemingly the only person on board, stood with his legs braced as he shouted for help over the tumult. He was Galliana’s age – in his fifties, Jake guessed – and had the bearing of an adventurer. His thick hair was still blond despite his age, and seemed oddly familiar to Jake. He was obviously not the enemy, as Jupitus and Chatterju immediately threw down their weapons.
Without hesitation Jupitus jumped up onto the rail and flung himself over the foaming water onto the troubled ship, sliding down the raked deck towards the man. ‘Are you all right? Are you hurt?’ Jake heard him ask. The man nodded to his arm, indicating that it was broken. ‘Are you alone?’ A firm nod.
Jupitus clasped him around the waist and led him up the deck, calling out to Chatterju to throw him a rope. Jake noticed that the man was clutching a leather satchel under his good arm.
‘Who is that?’ Jake asked the commander.
For a moment she did not reply; just stared at him, perplexed. ‘It’s Isaksen,’ she replied in a worried tone. ‘Caspar Isaksen Senior – or Fredrik, as we know him.’
Jake’s eyes went wide. The name Isaksen sent a shiver down his spine. This was the head of the famous producers of atomium; the father of the double-dealing Caspar Junior – that’s why Jake had recognized his blond hair.
‘What’s he doing here?’ Galliana murmured. ‘In twenty years, he has not once left Sweden.’
Jupitus was using the rope to pull Isaksen towards the
Tulip
, when there was a splintering of wood. The
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