Island of Graves (15 page)

And now that he was eating, he felt his strength returning. Enough to get him from his bed to the fire room for breakfast, anyway. He wasn't sure what Ishibashi was expecting him to do during this “hour of calm,” as he called it. But he hoped it wouldn't be much. He didn't see the point, really. If this place was in a perpetual state of storm, what good could possibly be done outdoors that wouldn't get ruined immediately? Maybe it was the only way these feeble old men could cope with the storm after all these years, he thought condescendingly.

He straightened his shirt collar and went to stand outside the fire room to wait for whatever it was the Ancient felt he had to say before Aaron could eat. “Controlling monster,” he muttered.

Ishibashi looked hard at Aaron.

Aaron took a sharp breath. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Had they heard him?

“You will wait by the entrance until the hour of calm,” said Ishibashi. He picked up his tea and sipped it.

Aaron stared. “What?” he asked.

“Go,” said Ishibashi.

Aaron's face got instantly hot. “What is the problem with you people?” he
exclaimed. He clamped his mouth shut, his fists clenched at his sides. But he couldn't stop himself. “You're being so stupid!” He started toward his food, rage blinding him.

Ishibashi and Sato both rose immediately. Aaron kept coming.

“Stop,” Ishibashi said in a horrible voice.

“I won't!” shouted Aaron. “I'm hungry and I've had it with your stupid rules!”

As Aaron advanced on the two little old men, Sato sprang at him with surprising force. Aaron crashed to the ground on his back. Sato flipped him over and sat on him, then cranked Aaron's injured arm behind him, making Aaron squeal in pain.

Sato lessened his grip. It was not his intention to hurt Aaron, only to subdue the larger, abler young man.

Aaron squirmed, to no avail.

Slowly Ishibashi walked over to stand by Aaron's face. “It is clear you cannot think beyond your own selfishness,” he said quietly, “so I will ask you this. If you have no respect for us, why would we wish to feed you?”

Aaron, breathing hard, clenched his jaw and didn't answer.

Ishibashi wasn't finished. “I do not know how you came to be so different from your twin, but you seem determined to act like a spoiled baby. Perhaps your people tolerated it, but we will not. And until you figure out a way to leave this place, you are stuck here with us. So if you would like to eat the food we have worked hard to grow, catch, and prepare, I recommend you revise the way you think. Do you understand?”

Aaron squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to move, for every time he did, Sato's grip on his arm grew tighter and more uncomfortable.

Ishibashi's voice remained even. “On our island, the servant finds himself served first. For someone who is supposed to be intelligent, you are taking a very long time to learn that.”

Pinned to the floor, Aaron wanted to shout. He wanted to fight back, to scream in their faces, to punch and kick at them. He wanted to teach these crazy old men a lesson of his own. But he was clearly outsmarted and outnumbered. He clenched his teeth to keep from saying what he wanted to say, and when he finally felt like he could control his temper and his tongue, he spat out, “Okay.”

Ishibashi stood there a moment longer, and then he motioned for Sato to let the boy up. Sato did so skillfully, ready to take him down again in an instant if necessary. But Aaron lay there for a minute, gathering his wits, and then slowly he pushed himself up with his good arm. He got to his knees, and then stood and dusted himself off. Without looking at the three men, he walked to the door, stationed himself on the floor out of the blast of wind, and waited there as instructed. His face burned with embarrassment and rage.

He couldn't hear the sound of dishes clinking over the roar of the storm, but his stomach yelled at him just the same for messing up its chance to be fed once more. Aaron dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, furious and frustrated with himself. He had to pull it together and stop messing up. Because Ishibashi was right about one thing, at least. Until Aaron could figure out a way to get off this hurricane island, he was stuck here. With them. And, Aaron supposed, Ishibashi made a good point about the three of them doing all the work to create the meals. He hadn't really thought about that before. Didn't they enjoy making it, though? What else was there to do around here? It seemed like it would be a pleasure to have a
visitor to cook for. Not just an ordinary visitor—a high priest of another island.

“No one understands my brilliance,” Aaron muttered. The wind carried the words away. He lifted his head and sighed deeply, then wiped his eyes and sat up straight, the strange words of Ishibashi still ringing in his head. “The servant finds himself served first.” What was that junk supposed to mean?

There wasn't much time to ponder. As the storm's noise began to quiet, Ishibashi, Ito, and Sato filed to the kitchen with their dishes, and then came back out and headed toward Aaron. Aaron got to his feet and pressed back against the wall as they went past him, and followed them outside for his first calm view of what this island actually looked like.

When he saw it, his heart sank. It was quite possibly the ugliest place in the world.

W
hen Aaron climbed into the scientists' ship, it was like he entered a different world. There were so many machines and contraptions, and Aaron had never seen anything like them before. His mood changed immediately, and he could barely stay quiet, but this time it wasn't because he was being an insolent jerk—it was because he was fascinated by all the tools and machinery. Compared to his oil-extraction machine, this stuff was so precise and perfect and mind-boggling that Aaron could hardly contain himself.

He soon adjusted his balance to the tilt of the boat, and he didn't
notice Ishibashi watching him as he marveled over a huge telescope for several minutes—though Aaron had no idea what the instrument was called. And he forgot all about the fact that he was somehow supposed to be working. Later, walking toward the bow, he found himself on the bridge peering at an enormous control panel. Absently he trailed his finger over all the switches and buttons, wondering what they could possibly be for.

Once Aaron had had a long look, Ishibashi called him over. The three men stood around the telescope. “We want to carry this telescope to the shelter,” Ishibashi said. “Please help us lift it. We have not been successful lifting it on our own.”

Aaron's interest was piqued, but he didn't dare ask any questions. He wondered if he'd get to learn more about it if it was inside the shelter. Obediently he took a spot between Ishibashi and Sato and wedged his good shoulder under the heaviest part of the telescope.

Ishibashi counted to three, and they all strained to lift the instrument. It came up off the ground, and Ishibashi grunted and pointed them forward. Aaron staggered under the weight until he got his footing as they walked uphill toward the ladder.
Aaron had no idea how the men planned to get the instrument down the ladder when they had to go single file, but he stayed quiet. He'd find out soon enough.

They made it to the area at the top of the ladder, where Ishibashi halted the crew. They set the telescope down and rested while Ishibashi reached for a rope. He made a harness and wrapped it around the telescope, then secured the other end of the rope to the ship. He pulled hard against the knots to make sure they were strong and reliable.

Ishibashi spoke to Ito in their language, and soon Ito was carefully making his way down the ladder to the ground below.

“Okay, Aaron,” Ishibashi said. “We must hoist this telescope up and push it over the side, but do not let go of it until Sato and I have the rope taut in hand.”

Aaron nodded and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He braced his feet, and when Ishibashi said go, he and the others pushed the instrument up with all their might. The three of them managed to lift the telescope just barely high enough to clear the ship's railing, and then they rested it there for a moment to catch their breath. Aaron looked below, where Ito stood waiting to guide the instrument to the ground.

The wind gusted, and thunder rumbled low in the distance. Ishibashi looked worried. “We have to hurry,” he said. “But carefully. The glass inside must not break.”

Aaron nodded, and when Ishibashi gave the word to continue, Aaron slid the base of the telescope over the edge. He held on, feeling his injured shoulder burn. But for some reason, he was intent on not letting this instrument break.

Behind him, Ishibashi and Sato grabbed the rope. “Okay, Aaron,” said Ishibashi. “Let it go slowly. Try to keep it from hitting the side of the ship, please.”

Aaron glanced over his shoulder to make sure the old men had a good grip on the rope, and that it was taut, and then he loosened his hold on the telescope. With one hand he guided it to rest gently against the side of the ship, and with the other he reached for the rope to help Sato and Ishibashi lower it. Soon, when it was out of reach, he put both hands on the rope and continued to help lower it. The wind gusted again, and the rain began pelting down. The telescope bumped against the side of the ship. Aaron moved faster.

Within a few minutes, they heard Ito yell, and the rope slacked. The telescope had reached the ground.

Ishibashi and Sato shouted back, sounding almost gleeful. They made their way down the ladder while Aaron watched from above. When they untied the harness, Aaron reeled in the rope and secured it before going down.

Aaron's arms and legs were shaky as he descended, more from exertion than anything else. Still, he hurried to the bottom and jumped down as thunder rolled in and the day darkened.

The four of them took their original spots and hoisted the telescope, then moved along as fast as they could without endangering it. Muscles burning, Aaron and the scientists made it to the opening of the shelter. They weaved their way between the rock slabs, careful not to knock the instrument against them, and when they finally reached the dry open area, they set it down once more. After a few moments' rest, they picked it up again and moved it into a well-lit room full of plants with a glass ceiling.

“Set it down here,” called Ishibashi, and they all lowered the telescope to the ground in the corner of the greenhouse. Aaron stepped back and watched as Ito and Sato began examining the instrument, touching it gently as if it were very precious.

Ishibashi aimed the scope, pointing it at the glass ceiling
and looking into the small end. He made a dissatisfied noise and said something to the others in their language. They carried on a lengthy conversation.

Unable to understand what the men were saying, Aaron lost interest and looked around the room. It was a little bit like his Favored Farm, with a variety of plants and vegetables growing in strange, makeshift pots made out of tires and pieces of fishing boats. His eyes landed on a section where green pea pods grew, and he looked at them longingly, his mouth watering. After a moment, he realized the men's conversation had ended, and he turned his attention back to them.

They were taking apart the instrument and appeared to have completely forgotten about Aaron's existence.

Could he slip over to the pea plants and steal a few? What would they do to him if they found out?

Aaron swallowed hard. After a few minutes debating the pros and cons of stealing peas, he sighed and left the greenhouse and went to his room. Water would have to be good enough for now.

A
aron thought more about what Ishibashi had said—how the servant finds himself served first—and though he still didn't quite understand what it meant, some other thoughts seemed to swirl around that one.

Like the fact that these ancient scientists seemed so excited to get that telescope thing out of their ship so they could work on it. What was their motivation? Why didn't they just give up and sit around all day like the people of Quill—especially the Ancients, who were useless?