History Keepers: Nightship to China Page 7

  And then she dropped the bombshell:

  ‘Philip Djones.’

  7 THE SIGN OF THE OCTOPUS

  ROSE PUT HER hands to her mouth, Charlie choked on his macaroon and Signor Gondolfino dropped his ivory cane on the floor. Jake stopped breathing altogether. The agents were in uproar. Only Yoyo was mystified by the reaction.

  ‘Settle down!’ Galliana called. ‘Settle down, everyone.’

  ‘Is this true?’ Truman Wylder boomed. ‘What evidence do you have?’

  ‘There are various indicators,’ the commander told him, fishing out one particular page. ‘This Meslith was received by Caspar at some point.’ She adjusted her spectacles and read: ‘XX and I arrived London . . . XX is evidently Xi Xiang. XX goes east in one week. Send more atomium for journey. Philip D.’

  Again everyone started talking at once. Someone said, ‘That doesn’t prove anything.’ Another added, ‘Anyone could have written that.’

  Jupitus interjected, ‘We know that Caspar talked of Philip in ancient Rome, that they likely met; but Caspar claimed that Philip was tortured.’ As he spoke, with a typical lack of delicacy, Galliana kept a firm hand on Jake’s shoulder, which was now rigid. ‘Perhaps his association with Xi Xiang was a façade: he was working as a spy and he was found out, hence the torture. But that leads to an even greater mystery: why on earth would he not maintain contact with us prior to this? No, indeed, it is my gut feeling that he went over to the other side. He was always hungry for power.’

  ‘Excuse me!’ Rose called from the other end of the table. ‘Philip working for the enemy? Hungry for power? Have you lost your mind?’

  ‘I knew it would be an unpopular view’ – Jupitus shrugged – ‘but once you have heard all the facts—’

  ‘Jupitus Cole, you have sunk to new depths,’ Rose exclaimed. ‘How dare you! How dare you say such a thing!’ Jupitus just shrugged and took another sip of coffee. ‘Thank God our wedding never took place – thank God!’ she thundered. ‘You’re a brute. Not to mention a parsimonious, petty-minded—’

  ‘Resort to shouting, Rosalind, to hurling insults, like you always do. So incredibly grown up.’

  ‘Don’t call me Rosalind. I hate that name. I’ve always hated it! You have no right to call me by that name.’

  ‘Stop!’ Jake yelled suddenly, thumping the table. ‘What facts, Mr Cole? Is my brother alive?’

  The room was silent. Rose fell back in her chair, embarrassed by her outburst. Even Jupitus looked guilty.

  ‘I’m sorry, Commander,’ Jake went on quietly.

  ‘That’s all right,’ she replied. ‘You are quite within your rights. This is harder for you than anyone.’ She turned and looked at Jupitus, adding sharply, ‘Some people around this table should remember that. I have seen more decorum in a circus!’ She waited a moment for her anger to subside. ‘Jake has quite rightly asked for facts. On this score, it seems that there may be one in particular. This sheet was the last in Caspar’s file.’

  Galliana now took a piece of paper from the very back of the portfolio – this one much newer and stiffer than the rest – and set it down on the table in front of Jake. ‘Is this in any way familiar to you?’

  His eyes went wide as he looked at it. There were two hand-drawn diagrams of guns – one small, one large, both shown from various angles – along with studies of how each mechanism worked. They were covered in detailed notes in tiny writing.

  Every eye in the room was on Jake as he reached out and touched the paper. Philip used to love sketching intriguing things: machines, ships, artillery . . . When he was just ten, he had come across a book of Leonardo da Vinci’s inventions. At first he had copied Leonardo – even writing his notes back to front – but soon he developed his own distinctive style. These two weapons, one a slim revolver, the other a sturdy bazooka (or flame thrower, as the writing under the lower diagram called it), were depicted in intricate detail, both taking the fantastical shape of a golden dragon, the head and mouth serving as the barrel.

  ‘Is the writing familiar?’ Galliana asked again. Jake nodded. ‘I recognized it too,’ she said softly, before turning to the other History Keepers. ‘We believe that these sketches – blueprints, as we assume they are – were drawn by Philip Djones. There is an embossed seal at the top of the page: the symbol of an octopus.’

  Topaz, Nathan, Charlie and Rose all sat, frozen, their eyes trained on Jake.

  Galliana carried on: ‘Dr Chatterju has spent the night examining the diagram, testing its age.’

  ‘It’s not an exact science,’ the doctor chimed in, half standing, ‘but ink, once exposed to air, changes its properties over time. It depletes. I use a chemical compound to see roughly how dry it has become.’

  There was silence for a moment, then Rose asked: ‘And how dry was it, Dr Chatterju?’

  He looked at Galliana, who nodded back at him. ‘I would guess that this drawing dates from just over a year ago.’

  There was a collective intake of breath. As this news sank in, Jake’s bottom lip started to tremble. He was on the brink of tears, but he did not cry. Galliana squeezed his shoulder even tighter.

  ‘Just over a year ago?’ he asked.

  ‘That is our guess.’

  Silence again.

  ‘But it was just over a year ago that Caspar claimed Philip was probably dead.’

  ‘This is a shock, I know,’ Galliana resumed, deadly serious, ‘but we need to get to the bottom of it. For the time being, let us not assume the worst. Let us, for now, be thankful that we have a lead at all.’ She took a deep breath. ‘So . . . to the operation at hand: I will be sending a team of the following agents to London, 1612: Topaz St Honoré, Nathan Wylder’ – she paused for a second before uttering the third name – ‘and Jake Djones. Topaz will be in charge of the operation. Charlie, sadly, is unable to travel.’

  Jake heard his name, and despite his shock, he felt a pulse of pride, of consolation. He had been picked, without even putting up a fight.

  ‘Hear, hear,’ Rose called solemnly from the other end of the table. ‘About time too.’

  The choice of agents did not surprise anyone. A History Keeper’s valour – his or her ability to move in time and travel great distances – was far stronger in the younger agents, and even more pronounced in ‘diamonds’: those who could see sharp diamond shapes when they scrunched their eyes shut. Nathan, Topaz, Jake – and, indeed, Charlie – were all diamonds. Jake’s parents and aunt were too. There were exceptions to the rules: Jupitus was not a diamond, but his valour, even at his age, was still very strong.

  ‘I will leave these drawings in your hands,’ Galliana said quietly to Jake. ‘Take them with you.’ She slid Philip’s sketches across the table and he took hold of them as if they were priceless relics.

  Yoyo put up her hand and waited for the commander’s nod. ‘I would also very much like to put myself forward for the mission,’ she said politely.

  Her mother put her finger to Yoyo’s lips to silence her.

  ‘That’s kind of you, Miss Yuting, but not this time.’

  Yoyo’s smile did not falter. ‘As I have said, I have studied Xi Xiang extensively,’ she persisted, ‘and it goes without saying that I have great expertise in all matters related to the east.’

  ‘I have no doubt of that. You are a valuable member of our team. But we will not be going east on this occasion.’

  ‘But it concerns the east. Xi Xiang is Chinese – I mean, he operates in China.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, Miss Yuting, but the answer is still no.’

  ‘But I would strenuously—’

  ‘And I would strenuously advise you to be quiet now,’ Galliana snapped. ‘You have not been a good influence here recently.’

  Now Yoyo’s smile finally slipped.

  Madame Tieng stood up, blushing. ‘My daughter is sorry—’ she began.

  ‘Don’t answer for me, Mother. I am not sorry in the slightest. It is ridiculous for me not to be included. I am more
capable than the three of them put together. I fight better and I think better.’ With that, she stood up, stared at them all dismissively, then stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

  There was a stunned silence as the dust settled. ‘Che dramma,’ Gondolfino muttered under his breath to Dr Chatterju.

  Galliana did her best to appear unruffled. ‘Would the team please make their way to the costumiery, before collecting your weapons in the armoury. You will set sail on the Thunder at ten a.m. There is no time to lose. That will be all.’

  Immediately Topaz and Rose leaped up and ran over to Jake; Charlie followed, pushed along by Nathan, who had one eye on the door in case Yoyo came back.

  ‘Everything will be all right, Jake,’ Topaz consoled him as they all gathered around. ‘We’re going to get to the bottom of it.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Jake, shrugging it off. It was a lie: he was far from fine; he was in shock, more confused than ever. Was Philip dead or alive? Was he working for the enemy? It was too much to think about. ‘Let’s go,’ he said decisively, Philip’s drawings clutched tightly in his hand.

  In the costumiery, a rail of Elizabethan outfits was trundled over to the fitting area.

  ‘The early 1600s,’ Nathan explained to Jake, ‘is all about the exaggerated collar – the ruff, to give it its correct name.’ He was trying to keep his friend’s mind off Philip. He ran his hand along the bands of tightly pleated silk. ‘Biggest is best, and I intend to push things to the extreme.’ He chose one that was nearly twice the circumference of his head, wrapping it around his neck and checking himself in the mirror. ‘Hello, handsome,’ he laughed, winking at his reflection.

  ‘Just wait your turn,’ Gondolfino snapped, snatching the ruff back. ‘Miss St Honoré first.’ His face creased with a smile as she stepped forward. He adored Topaz and was not ashamed to show it. ‘Now, I see you in velvet and brocade,’ he trilled, running his ancient hand along a rail of clothes that he had already picked out for her.

  After Topaz, Gondolfino got going on the other two, and when his work was done he clapped his hands. ‘Let’s have a look at you all together – tutti insieme,’ he said, adjusting his eyepiece. The three of them lined up. ‘Incantevole!’ he exclaimed. They made a strikingly attractive group, in their dark clothes and white ruffs.

  When they reached the armoury, Dr Chatterju was waiting at a work station with Amrit, his cheeky young nephew who doubled as his assistant. ‘Over here,’ the doctor called. ‘I have something to show you.’

  ‘Treats! That’s what I like.’ Nathan grinned when he saw that the doctor had a number of gadgets laid out before him.

  ‘To commence, may I introduce our new crossbow arrow gun,’ said Chatterju, picking up the first item. It was halfway between a crossbow and a revolver: a squat bow and stock, customized with a cylindrical ammunition chamber and fitted with a trigger and hammer, like a normal gun. ‘The revolving chamber carries ten bolts and can be replaced in half a second.’ He demonstrated by swiftly unclipping it from the stock and fitting another one in its place. ‘For extra effect, the tips of the arrows may be dipped in poison.’

  ‘May I, sir?’ Nathan asked, itching to get his hands on it. Chatterju passed it over and the American shot off half a round at the marks on the far wall of the chamber – quick flashes of steel – thwack, thwack, thwack – into the target. ‘How’s that for sport? Almost five bull’s-eyes!’

  Topaz took the weapon from him and tried it for herself. Five arrows struck absolutely dead centre in one solid cluster, making Nathan mutter under his breath, ‘Obviously more of a girl’s weapon.’

  Jake wanted to try his luck, but Chatterju signalled that it was time to move on. ‘There are a variety of other firearms in here,’ he said, indicating a trunk. ‘Non-explosive, of course, and appropriate for the early seventeenth century.’ He moved on to show them the contents of the shelf. ‘Now, you will also need ink and quill, a standard feature in Elizabethan London; but write with this and you’ll get more than you bargained for. Amrit, will you demonstrate.’ The grinning boy put on a protective visor and chain-mail gloves, then picked up the quill and dipped it into a pot of ink. ‘Once it has come in contact with the ink,’ the doctor explained, ‘it starts to react.’ He was right: they could all hear the nib make a fizzing sound.

  Amrit crossed to the other side of the room and placed the quill on a metal stand, then backed away. The feather suddenly threw out a brilliant white light before exploding in a cloud of smoke. Amrit was sent flying, clattering into a pile of shields and helmets. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest; he simply picked himself up and giggled as he brushed down his laboratory coat.

  ‘A poison pen.’ Nathan nodded his approval. ‘I like it.’

  The last device on the shelf was introduced as ‘quite an ingenious outboard motor’. The box looked like a scruffy tea-chest, but Chatterju carefully pulled out a machine of many interconnected parts, some polished wood, others gleaming metal. He twisted the sections until it took shape: a rudder, engine and propeller, all connected in one clever mechanism. ‘It can be fitted onto the back of any small craft.’ The doctor folded it up again and replaced it in its case. ‘It’s the prototype and I am particularly proud of it, so do take care.’

  With only a short time remaining before they set sail, Jake, Nathan and Topaz returned to their rooms to pick up anything they might need for the journey. Jake went straight over to the chest by his bed, and took out a photograph. It was of the Djones family, taken the Christmas before Philip disappeared. Jake studied his brother’s smiling face. What was going on under the smile? Could there really be treachery? ‘Of course there couldn’t,’ he muttered. He placed the picture, along with Philip’s diagrams, inside a portfolio and packed it in his bag.

  As he emerged from his room, Nathan came bustling down the corridor with his own bag slung across his back. ‘I know you have other things on your mind, old boy,’ the American said in his version of a whisper, ‘but what did you make of all that business with Miss Yuting?’ He didn’t wait for Jake to reply. ‘I mean, what she said about being more capable than us was a little uncalled for, but still . . . an odd business, wouldn’t you say? I just went to talk to her,’ he confessed. ‘I wanted to say goodbye. She pretended she wasn’t in her room, but she was there all right, swishing a sword.’

  ‘Well, there’s not much we can do about it.’ Jake shrugged. ‘She’ll have got over it by the time we get back.’ As he said this, an unsettling notion suddenly struck him: What if he didn’t come back? Missions were dangerous, and the truth was, not everyone in the history of the secret service survived them. The memorial stone under the willow tree was proof of that. All of a sudden Jake, like Nathan, didn’t want to leave without speaking to Yoyo. ‘Let’s go and see her, then,’ he said. ‘Quickly, though – we have to leave in five minutes.’

  They rushed up to find her room empty, the door wide open. There was no time to search further, so they headed down to the quay, frustrated.

  A small farewell party was gathered next to the Thunder, a little merchant frigate with blue sails and a complicated lattice of rigging.

  ‘Charlie, you old rogue, I’m going to miss you. It won’t be the same without you,’ Nathan said, squeezing his friend’s arm. Jake and Topaz said goodbye too, hugging him tightly.

  ‘All the best,’ he replied. ‘And will you promise to do me a favour? Get to the Globe and see some original Shakespeare. I want solemn promises, do you hear?’

  ‘It will be top of our list,’ Nathan announced grandly, while shaking his head at Jake. (Jake had no idea why Nathan wasn’t keen on the theatre or the opera, being such a dramatic person himself.)

  Galliana handed Topaz a small casket containing the atomium and the Horizon Cup, and they spoke briefly. ‘If you locate Xi Xiang, or any of his people, be wary. There are so many layers of deceit to that man. And such depth of cruelty.’

  ‘We will be careful, Commander,’ Topaz promised
her.

  ‘You’re going to stay with Aunt Rose for a few days,’ Jake said to Felson, giving him a fond stroke. ‘She’ll spoil you rotten.’

  ‘Quite right,’ Rose agreed – adding for Jupitus’s benefit, ‘Who needs humans to snuggle up with at night?’ She gave her nephew a hug. ‘Look after yourself, darling boy. If Philip’s alive somewhere, you’ll find him, won’t you?’

  ‘I’ll do my best. Goodbye, Rose,’ he said, but suddenly Jake had that morbid thought again – that he might not come back at all. He gave her an extra special hug and picked up his bag. He was just about to climb aboard with the others when Yoyo appeared. Her puffy red eyes were fixed on Jake.

  ‘Were you looking for me?’

  Jake was self-conscious, knowing that everyone was watching. ‘W-w-we were just saying goodbye . . .’

  Yoyo took him by the hand. ‘I really hope you find your brother.’ As she stared into his eyes, he felt a peculiar thrill. No one had ever looked at him quite so directly before. ‘Get back safely, won’t you?’ she said.

  ‘Yes, I will,’ he replied in a daze.

  Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Her mouth was warm, and it made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

  Nathan let out a snort of disbelief and a few others raised their eyebrows.

  ‘Look after Jake, won’t you?’ Yoyo said to Nathan, before pushing her way through the group and disappearing into the castle.

  ‘And I’ll just look after myself, shall I?’ Nathan called after her. ‘Someone has to,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘I make all that effort, and that’s what I get in return. Charming.’

  He was so put out that he didn’t bother with his usual ‘impromptu’ speech about the perilous mission ahead. There was a last flurry of goodbyes as they boarded the ship, and then they cast off.

  Jake watched the island retreat into the distance, the people getting smaller and smaller. There was more of a jumble in his mind than ever: the revelations about Philip, the look in Yoyo’s eyes . . . and the dreadful feeling that they were heading to their doom.