The Broken Sun (17 page)

‘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.

CHAPTER TWENTY

‘They're only a few minutes away,' Mr Doyle said. ‘We need to get off this beach.
We're too exposed.'

Charles Spaulding stroked his chin, formulating an idea. ‘We've already marked a
path here. I suggest we continue back to the mountains, but first go further down
the beach to locate a natural entrance.'

‘And leave this as a ruse?' Mr Doyle said.

‘Indeed.'

Any pursuer would see the trail hacked into the jungle and follow it. They would
eventually realise they had been fooled, but it would at least buy the group some
time.

‘I will cover tracks,' Kip suggested. ‘Give us head start.'

The expedition headed down the beach with Kip using a branch to smooth over the sand
behind them. A natural glade opened into the jungle. Carefully navigating the vegetation,
they continued inland with Charles Spaulding and Kip in the lead.

Within an hour they were far from the coast and nearing the two mountain tops. Jack
fell into step with Clarice. ‘I wonder who's in charge of that airship,' he said.

‘Probably the people who tried to kill my grandfather and your friend.' The girl
didn't say anything for a moment. ‘Do you think we're really going to find a cure?'

‘Mr Doyle can do it if anyone can.'

‘How long have you known him?'

Jack explained how he had come to be with Mr Doyle after the deaths of his parents.
‘He's been training us to become detectives.'

‘Both of you? Scarlet too?'

‘Yes.'

Scarlet was walking ahead of them. ‘You think that a strange idea?' she asked.

‘Not at all. My grandfather says that equal rights for women is long overdue.'

The girls went on to have an animated conversation about the women's movement. Both
of them, it turned out, admired Emmeline Pankhurst, the famous suffragette. The
discussion shifted to their current predicament. Jack voiced the opinion that Mr
Doyle would apprehend the evildoers.

‘Is he really that good?'

Clarice was enthralled as Jack and Scarlet described some of their adventures. The
more Jack spoke to the girl, the more he liked her.

‘Still, this is a different environment,' she said. ‘This isn't England.'

‘No,' Jack had to agree, glancing about at the native jungle. He wiped sweat from
his face. ‘It isn't!'

‘My grandfather and I have been through some tough scrapes over the years,' Clarice
said. ‘A sinking ship. Lost in the Yukon for a week. We were even held hostage by
cannibals.'

‘Cannibals?' Scarlet's eyes lit up.

‘Don't get her started,' Jack implored.

‘We've been through a lot.' Tears shone in Clarice's eyes. ‘I don't know what I'd
do without him.'

Scarlet squeezed her hand. ‘Mr Doyle will get to the bottom of this.'

‘I hope so.' Clarice's eyes narrowed. ‘I hate the man who did this. He deserves to
pay for what he's done.'

Jack and Scarlet exchanged glances.
Who is she talking about?

‘You mean whoever hurt your grandfather?' Jack said.

Scarlet stopped her. ‘You know who's behind this, don't you?'

‘No, not at all,' Clarice said, but she was blushing.

Scarlet called Mr Doyle over and he quizzed the girl. ‘You had best tell us what
you know,' he said. ‘Two heads are better than one. And four heads are better
than
three, but not nearly as good as… Well, you know what I mean.'

Clarice sighed. ‘There was a man who came to visit my grandfather several months
ago,' she admitted. ‘His name was George Darrow, a Darwinist doctor. He was asking
lots of questions about Atlantis and about something called the Living Machine. He
became very angry when Grandfather refused to answer him, and stormed out.'

‘We should speak to the others about this,' Mr Doyle said. ‘They may have something
to offer.'

He called a short break. As they sipped from their water flasks, Clarice told her
tale to the group. Tobias Bradstreet shook his head, saying he had never heard of
Darrow or the Living Machine, but Phoebe was nodding.

‘I first heard of Darrow years ago,' she said. ‘Like many people, he wanted to know
about Atlantis, but he had one specific interest—the Living Machine. It's supposed
to be an invention of the Atlanteans. Apparently it was an interface that could
join the thoughts of a man with a machine.'

‘How could such a thing be possible?' Bradstreet said.

‘It sounds unlikely, I know, but there may be something to it. I heard a rumour some
years ago that a fossil had been discovered in a dig in Cairo. Half animal, half
machine.'

Charles Spaulding spoke up. ‘This is all very interesting, but I suggest we keep
moving. Those people may be
close behind.' He looked around. ‘Wait a minute. We're
missing someone.'

‘Sandra Clegg,' Bradstreet said.

She was nowhere to be seen. Fanning out, they conducted a quick search.

‘When did anyone last see her?' Charles Spaulding asked.

Phoebe recalled her on the beach when they saw the airship.

‘I hope she's all right,' Scarlet said. ‘Maybe she's lost.'

‘Or had an accident,' Clarice said.

‘There may be quite a different explanation,' Mr Doyle mused. ‘She may have purposefully
separated from our group.'

‘But why?' Bradstreet asked.

‘She told us this was her first journey aboard the
Explorer
,' Mr Doyle said. ‘Did
she have references?'

‘She did.' The man thought for a moment. ‘But I didn't need to contact her previous
employers: during the interview, it became clear that she knew how to run a kitchen.'

‘Sandra Clegg—if that is her real name—certainly had experience,' Mr Doyle said.
‘But she may have been planted aboard ship, like Reg Smythe, to infiltrate our operation.'

‘What will we do?' Scarlet asked.

‘We need to keep moving,' Phoebe said. ‘The people who shot down the
Explorer
might
be right behind us.'

‘But she may just be lost,' Mr Spaulding said. ‘I'll
go back with Kip and see if
we can locate her.'

When they returned half an hour later, Mr Spaulding had a piece of torn fabric in
his hand.

‘That's part of Sandra's apron,' Bradstreet said. ‘And is that…?'

‘Blood?' Mr Spaulding said. ‘It is. We found this some distance down the trail near
a ravine. I tried calling down into the gorge, but there was no reply.'

‘And no other trace of her?' Mr Doyle asked.

‘None.'

‘Then we must move on.'

‘No!' Bradstreet said. ‘We must go back and search.'

‘I understand your feelings,' Mr Doyle said, ‘but she may not wish to be found. And
if Mr Spaulding and his men have not been able to find her, then it's unlikely we
could.'

‘It was a very deep ravine,' Spaulding explained. ‘No-one could have survived a fall
to the bottom.'

Bradstreet sighed. ‘I suppose you're right.'

Spaulding peered up the slope. ‘It looks like a ridge runs between the two mountains,'
he said. ‘We'll be able to see most of the island from there.'

‘Good thinking,' Bradstreet said. ‘Let's get moving.'

They continued uphill. Jack wondered about Sandra Clegg. Had she been taken by a
wild animal? Or was she in league with the people in the black airship? She could
have signalled to them—possibly with a mirror—meaning their pursuers might be close
behind.

At the top of the ridge, an ancient crater covered in
waist-high grass, was nestled
between the mountains. The sides were steep with a few ravines. A stream tumbled
over a ledge of the nearest peak, falling hundreds of feet into a pool below.

‘How does the water get up there?' Jack asked. ‘It's going uphill.'