Vampirates: Tide of Terror (21 page)

28

A GLORIOUS FUTURE

“So, what’s bugging our pirate prodigy?” Jacoby asked, as they tucked into breakfast on the sun-drenched terrace. Connor sighed. “Is it
that
obvious?”

“Afraid so,” Jacoby said. “You were happy enough during Krav Maga but you’ve barely said a word since then. And you keep jiggling your knees under the table, O tense one. What’s up?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” Jacoby said, spearing a strip of bacon, “Thinking. That’s a dangerous business!” He crunched the bacon between his teeth.

Connor pushed his plate away, though it was still half full of food.

“Now, I’m
really
worried,” Jacoby said. “Usually you leave your plate so clean it’s like you never used it. You better start talking, Connor Tempest. What’s eating you?”

“You know that I’m only here for a week, right?”

“Oh, of course, yes.”

“Well, it’s day five already. I’ve only got two more days left.”

“Time certainly has flown.” Jacoby smiled. “Though sometimes it feels like you’ve been here forever!”

Connor looked gloomy.

“. . . in a
good
way,” Jacoby added.

Connor nodded. “The thing is ...I don’t think I’m going to be ready to leave on Sunday.”

Jacoby crunched through another strip of bacon. “Then stay.”

“It isn’t as simple as that,” Connor said. “You’re forgetting that I’m signed up to Captain Wrathe. It’s my duty to return to
The Diablo
.”

“Well, sure,” Jacoby said, “
eventually.
But I’m certain Captain Wrathe can survive another week without his Boy Wonder. And I’m certain Commodore Kuo would be pleased to extend your stay.”

“Yes, I think Commodore Kuo would be happy enough,” Connor said, “but I’m not so sure about Captain Wrathe. He’s not a huge fan of the Academy.”

“No?” Jacoby said, tearing apart a blueberry muffin. “Why’s that?”

“Lots of reasons. For one thing, he doesn’t think you can be educated to be a pirate. He reckons that either you have it in your veins or you don’t.”

Jacoby shrugged. “Maybe there’s some truth in that.”

“Maybe,” Connor said, “but I’ve learned so much since I got here. And, if I stayed, I could learn so much more.” He was surprised at the undertow of yearning in his own voice.

“So go talk to Kuo,” Jacoby said, “and let him square it with the Wrathe.”

Connor frowned. He just couldn’t see the two captains sitting down and discussing this amicably.

Jacoby suddenly grinned. “Here’s an idea. How about you stay here and I go back on
The Diablo
as your substitute? I’d kill to get out on the ocean for real.”

“It
is
awesome,” Connor said, remembering the sense of freedom he always experienced when
The Diablo
was coursing through the open ocean. Suddenly, he was flushed with warm memories of the ship and his crewmates.

“I
do
want to go back,” he said, “just not yet.”

“Then drink up your pomegranate juice and go talk to Commodore Kuo,” Jacoby said.

“Talk to Commodore Kuo about what?”

Jacoby and Connor looked up to find Cheng Li hovering at their table. She had arrived silently. Neither one knew quite how long she had been there.

“I was just saying,” Connor said, “that is ...I was just wondering . . .”

Cheng Li gave him a sidelong glance, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“He wants to know if he can extend his stay,” Jacoby said with a broad smile.

“I see,” Cheng Li said.

“He’s worried about how Captain Wrathe will react,” Jacoby continued, “but I think Commodore Kuo can handle him.”

“Oh you do, do you?” Cheng Li said, glancing up at the Academy clock. “Jacoby, isn’t it time for your Marine Biology class?”

Jacoby followed her eyes to the clock-face which hung over the terrace, encircled by bougainvillea.

“Oh yeah. Connor, we’d better get a move on or we’ll be late for class.”

“That’s okay,” Cheng Li said. “You go on and tell Captain Solomos I have borrowed Mister Tempest for important Academy business.”

“It’s very cruel of you to cut me out of the conversation, just when things are getting exciting,” Jacoby grinned, “but okay, Mistress Li. If it helps Boy Wonder’s cause — who am I to complain?”

He jumped up out of his chair and winked at Connor. “Later, buddy.” They knocked knuckles while Cheng Li slipped down into the chair Jacoby had vacated.

“Well,” Cheng Li said, as Jacoby jogged off down the hill toward the Biology lab, “I must say, Connor, you’ve established yourself here at the Academy even more quickly than I anticipated.”

Connor shrugged. “I just wish I didn’t feel so torn. I know my duty is to Captain Wrathe and my crewmates on
The Diablo
. But I really like it here. And I’m learning so much.”

Cheng Li beamed from ear to ear. “I knew you would. We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I. As talented as we are naturally, still we hunger for more knowledge.”

Connor was so used to Cheng Li’s arrogance it barely registered now, but perhaps she was in danger of overestimating him. He had never hungered for knowledge before. Certainly not the kind of knowledge they shoveled in your direction at Crescent Moon Bay High. But it was certainly true that, when it came to piracy, he wanted to know everything. His ambitions grew with each passing day.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s pointless, really,” he said. “I was just hoping that Commodore Kuo might let me stay another week or so. But what difference would that make? You spent ten years here. Jacoby’s been here almost that long. I can never catch up.”

“Well, no, not in a single week. Of course not. But, at the risk of swelling that head of yours, you are prodigiously talented, Connor. There’s no Academy student, besides Jacoby, to rival your skill at swords. And I know that I speak for the rest of the tutors when I say how impressed we are at your ability to hold your own in the classes here — and often with kids older than yourself.”

Connor blushed. Getting praise from a teacher was an entirely new experience for him.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” he said. “There I was, a few months back. Stuck in that dead-end town for all those years. And then Dad died and I nearly followed him to the grave. But I survived and you rescued me and ...well, it’s as if I was waiting all that time. All those years. Waiting for piracy to claim me. Like it was my destiny, like it was in my blood all along.”

Cheng Li was nodding furiously. “Yes. Yes, those are my thoughts exactly. You might be the son of a lighthouse keeper, Connor, but you were born to be a pirate.”

“Born to be a captain?” Connor asked, thinking once more of his vision of the future.

“A captain and more besides. Perhaps, one day, a commodore — the captain of captains. There is a glorious future for you,” Cheng Li said, smiling. Then her expression changed as if a chill wind had blown across the terrace. “But we have to unpick some of the unfortunate circumstances that have arisen.”

Connor looked at her curiously.

“We have to free you from Captain Wrathe’s articles,” she explained.

“But the articles are binding ...for life. I signed them with my own blood.”

Cheng Li smiled once more. “What nonsense,” she said. “There are always ways. Especially with a man like Wrathe.

It’s just a question of what he requires in exchange. You know what he’s like. Now don’t take offense, boy, but you could probably buy back your freedom with a sapphire trinket.”

Connor’s face fell once more. Would Molucco really swap him so easily? And even if this was the case, how was he supposed to lay his hands on a sapphire? He had nothing to his name, other than the small amount of booty he’d acquired after the raids. Certainly, there was nothing in his possession to tempt a man of Molucco’s vast wealth.

“Oh, poor boy,” Cheng Li said, leaning back in her chair. “Did you think I meant you’d have to
buy
your way out of servitude? Of course not! You are not alone any-more, Connor. You have supporters of considerable power and influence. John Kuo is not merely Headmaster of the Academy. He’s one of the most powerful operatives in the Pirate Federation.”

“What exactly
is
the Pirate Federation?” Connor asked.

“I think you should ask Commodore Kuo that question. I shall set up a meeting for you later. Why don’t you go and get on with your lessons and I’ll talk to the headmaster.”

Connor stood up from the table and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, “for everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “Just remember that you owe me . . . and that one day I’ll call in that debt.” She was smiling but Connor felt a strange chill. He had no doubt that she was utterly serious.

He began walking away, his head heavy with all the dark thoughts bubbling away inside. Suddenly he turned back. Cheng Li had stood up and was heading across the terrace. He had to run to catch her. She turned, hearing his tread.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to betray Captain Wrathe. He’s done so much for me.”

Cheng Li nodded, and extended a hand to rest on his shoulder. “I do understand, Connor.” She sighed. “But, it was hasty of you to bind yourself to his crew in perpetuity. There are bigger and better opportunities for you. Don’t think he doesn’t know that. Don’t think for a moment that he didn’t know what he was doing when he bound you to those articles.”

Slipping through the door, she left Connor outside, weighing up her words. Was it true? Had Molucco taken advantage of Connor’s naivety to bind him in service before he discovered what other options existed? It was a harsh accusation. But if Cheng Li was right and Molucco had pulled a fast one, then perhaps it was time to break away. Whatever the cost.

As he zigzagged down the hill, he glanced over his shoulder, back toward Grace’s window. The shutters were still closed. It was after ten and there was no sign of life up there. He wished he’d asked Cheng Li how Grace was, but he’d been so preoccupied with his own dilemma. Well, he could check on Grace during break — or, failing that, over lunch. It wasn’t, he thought with a frown, as if she were going anywhere.

29

THE GATHERING STORM

Connor did not, as it happened, get around to checking on Grace during break. Instead, he found himself lounging under one of the pomegranate trees with Jacoby and Jasmine — taking shelter from the sun, snacking on the ripe fruit, and talking enjoyable nonsense until it was time for Captain Larsen’s Swords class. This was a double lesson, taken at a brisk pace by the formidable Danish captain.

Next came a single session of Captaincy and Crew-building Skills. According to the timetable, Cheng Li was due to teach the class but, in fact, it was Commodore Kuo who entered the seminar room, to the surprise of his waiting students.

“I know you were expecting Mistress Li, but I’m afraid you’ve drawn the short sword today,” he said with a smile.

No one objected. The headmaster was one of the most popular teachers in the Academy and the students treated any extra time with him as a bonus, not a chore. Captaincy and Crew-building had quickly become one of Connor’s favorite classes anyhow, and the way Commodore Kuo taught it was far less didactic that Cheng Li. Rather than telling you how to do things, Commodore Kuo was more inclined to set up a scenario and then invite differ-ent suggestions.

“Remember,” he said, “when each of you attains the rank of Captain, with most affairs there will be no clear sense of right or wrong. There will be a hundred possible resolutions and it will be your responsibility to choose the right one for you and your crew.”

The forty-minute lesson breezed by, with Jacoby and Jasmine violently disagreeing on how to deal with a dispute between crew members and Connor and Aamir offering their ideas on how to tackle a lack of supplies when far out at sea. In each case, the headmaster expertly drew out the students to make a case for their chosen solutions and then refused to judge one person’s proposal over another — instead turning to the other students to air their views. The class broadly endorsed Jasmine’s rather more thought-out approach to resolving conflict and seemed impressed with Connor’s pragmatic ideas on imposing rationing
in extremis.

As the lunch bell rang, the students were still deeply engrossed in discussion. Finally, it fell to Commodore Kuo to shoo them out into the sunshine.

“Mister Tempest,” he called softly as Connor collected his papers. “Might I have a word?”

Connor turned back. His heart was racing. Clearly, Commodore Kuo knew of his request. Now he would learn his verdict. What passed in the next few moments would decide his entire future.

“Let’s walk and talk,” the headmaster said, gesturing for Connor to go on ahead. They began the climb toward the terrace at a safe distance from prying ears.

“Mistress Li told me about your earlier chat,” the head-master said, “and well, of course, I’m delighted that you’re keen to extend your stay here.” He paused before continuing. “How long exactly were you thinking you might like to stay?”

Connor cleared his throat as he gathered his nerve. “Perhaps . . . perhaps another week?”

“Just a week?” Commodore Kuo looked amused. “And are you satisfied that in another week, you’ll have soaked up every last bit of knowledge we have to offer?”

“No, no. Of course not,” Connor said, feeling foolish. “But I have my duties . . .”

“I know, I know. You have your duties to Captain Wrathe and the crew. It’s very commendable of you to think that way, Connor. But let’s suppose, just for a moment, that I had a magic wand and I could fix it for you to stay here as long as you wanted, irrespective of your current commitments. Then would you want to stay just a week?”

“No, I . . .”

“A month, perhaps?”

“Well, maybe . . .”

“Until the end of the year?”

Connor felt a rush of excitement at the words. The path before them began to climb steeply up the hill. To their right, the waters glistened in the harbor.

Commodore Kuo’s dark eyes reflected the sun on the ocean.

“Suppose I could fix it for you to become a full-time student here,” he said. “To play with the curriculum so that you had some private tuition as well as group classes — to fast-track you, if you like. How would that be?”

Connor sighed. “That would be cool. Really cool.”

“That’s what you’d like? Well, in that case, we’d better try to get our heads around the possibilities. Leave it to me, Connor.” He tapped his head lightly. “Give these old gray cells a chance to ponder things.” He smiled. “I’ll get back to you later. In the meantime, enjoy your lunch.”

With a pat on the shoulder, he left Connor on the terrace. As the headmaster walked away, Connor saw Jacoby waving him over. He was sitting at a table with Jasmine, Aamir and some of the others from the class. They had saved him a space. Smiling, he stepped forward to join them.

During the post-lunch triple period of Nautical Attack Strategy, the heavens opened. In a classroom at the end of one of the coiling arms of the Rotunda, Captain Solomos and his students paused their studies to turn and watch as the sky grew dark and thick clouds expelled jets of rain over the Academy grounds. Then they resumed their debate, only to be interrupted by a whip-crack of thunder.

“A storm,” Captain Solomos said, his eyes lighting up with characteristic drama. “It’s a while since we’ve had a storm as violent as this.” He snapped shut his textbook. “Class, let’s park our earlier discussion. Instead, let’s consider how we might use such weather to stage an inspirational attack.”

As Connor was packing up his books at the end of NAS class, Captain Solomos called him over. “Commodore Kuo asks you to go to his study,” he told Connor with a smile, “to continue your earlier conversation.”

Connor nodded and headed back along the snaking corridor to the headmaster’s study. He knocked on the door.

“Enter!” called Commodore Kuo.

Connor stepped inside the wood-paneled room, finding the headmaster at his immaculate desk, reading through some papers.

“Ah, Mister Tempest. Please, take a seat. Some tea for you, perhaps?”

Connor accepted the small bowl of fragrant tea.

“I’ve been thinking about our earlier discussions,” said the headmaster, “and I have a proposition for you.”

Connor nodded. He took a draught of the tea.

“How much do you know about the Pirate Federation?” Commodore Kuo asked him.

“Next to nothing,” Connor admitted.

“Excellent,” said the headmaster, a twinkle in his eye. “We like to keep it that way with those outside the Federation. But it’s a very different matter for those on the inside.”

Connor leaned forward. Now, the headmaster had his full attention.

“It must be clear to you,” continued Commodore Kuo, “that piracy is in a state of significant and rapid change at the moment. This is due to the work of the Federation all over the globe.” He stood up from his desk and indicated a glass globe at Connor’s side. “Give it a spin,” he said.

Connor reached out his hand to the globe and did so. As the glass spun, its surface turned black and hundreds of lights began to twinkle at him, like stars in the night sky.

“You see those lights?” Commodore Kuo said. “Each one represents a cell of the Pirate Federation — all over the world. More are coming online all the time.”

Connor was impressed.

“There’s a great and growing gulf between those pirates who operate within the Federation,” explained Commodore Kuo, “and those — like Molucco Wrathe — on the outside. Those of us in the know are busy forming alliances, not only across the oceans, but also on land. In a short time, our influence will be unstoppable. And rather than working as disparate crews, often coming into conflict with each other, you’ll see the formation of vast fleets of pirate ships united in one cause.”

It was heady talk. Commodore Kuo came to the front of his desk and sat upon it, facing Connor.

“Such an organization needs leaders, and one of my jobs within the Federation is to recruit the leaders of the future.”

His gaze bore into Connor. Connor thought once more of the vision he’d had of becoming a pirate captain. But would he —
could
he — become a captain within the Federation itself?

“I’m going to tell you something now, Connor, something which must remain within these study walls. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” said Connor.

“Excellent. First — more tea?”

Connor shook his head. He was too intrigued to be distracted in any way. The headmaster brought his hands together in a steeple.

“It was I who recruited Mistress Li to the Federation. I knew from her time in the Academy what a valuable asset she would be — and so it has proved.”

Outside, there was a crack of lightning. The headmaster glanced over his shoulder.

“I love a storm,” he said. “Don’t you?”

“Not so much, actually,” said Connor, the thunder a reminder of the very worst time in his life.

“Oh, of course not. I’m sorry. How insensitive.”

“I have a question,” Connor said, refusing to let the storm distract him.

“Shoot.”

“Was Mistress Li spying on Captain Wrathe? Captain Drakoulis said that was why she was on
The Diablo
. That she’d been sent by the Federation.”

Commodore Kuo’s face was a mask. He leaned back and calmly poured himself some tea. He took a sip, then cupped the bowl in his hands. “I’m sure you’ll under-stand,” he said, “that some Federation matters must be kept confidential. But the main reason for Mistress Li to join
The Diablo
was to complete her apprenticeship as deputy captain. It is our policy to fast-track our recruits to become captains.”

The headmaster met Connor’s eyes once more and Connor thought that, for all his diplomacy, Kuo was answering in the affirmative. Cheng Li
had
been sent to spy on Molucco. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“But if Captain Wrathe operates outside the Federation, why would Mistress Li serve alongside him?”

“A good question, Connor,” said Commodore Kuo, “but here’s the truth of the matter. No ships truly lie outside of Federation rule. It is just that some captains blind them-selves to the fact.”

Did Captain Wrathe represent such a risk to the Feder-ation then? Commodore Kuo talked of the
power
that the Federation sought. But what exactly were its aims? And were they so very different from Molucco’s?

“There’s a big difference,” the headmaster said, as if reading Connor’s thoughts, “between immediate gain and the more fruitful rewards of delayed gratification. A quick bit of plunder in the here and now is no match for the real treasure of power —
sustained
power in the long run. That’s a goal worth waiting for, planning for — don’t you think?”

Connor wasn’t sure. He had another question — and it was a big one.

“Is Captain Narcisos Drakoulis part of the Federation?” He took a deep breath. “Was his attack against
The Diablo
planned by the Federation?” There was a third question he wanted to — but dared not — ask. Was the Federation responsible for Jez Stukeley’s death? As he awaited Kuo’s answer, he made a decision. If the answer was yes, then Connor would never work for the Federation in any capacity.

“As I told you before,” said Kuo, “some Federation matters must be kept confidential . . .”

Connor’s blood froze in his veins. He couldn’t believe his ears. The Commodore might just as well have confessed to his direct responsibility.

“. . .
but
, I will say that Drakoulis is as wild and wanton in his ways as Wrathe — perhaps even more so. Neither one can be depended upon to execute Federation business.”

So now, he was denying it. But it was far from a clear denial. Connor was left wondering which way to turn. He felt he was adrift at sea, not knowing who was his friend and who was his enemy. Images of Captain Wrathe and Narcisos Drakoulis drifted through his mind. Then they both faded and he found himself once more looking directly into Commodore Kuo’s eyes. They were kind eyes. Trustworthy eyes. Not the kind of eyes that sent a young pirate like Jez Stukeley to his death.

“You might think,” continued Commodore Kuo, with a smile, “that it’s unusual to recruit someone at so young an age as you but, understand that I am looking to strengthen the Federation into the farthest reaches of the future. The younger my recruits, the stronger the Federation becomes.” He paused. “Indeed, there are other young colleagues of yours here at the Academy who are already working for us.”

Connor considered this for a moment. Jacoby! He was a star pupil. The headmaster must be talking about Jacoby. He’d have to ask his friend if this was the case when he next saw him.

“Do remember,” said the headmaster, “what I told you about this conversation remaining within these study walls. Remember, too, that all Federation members are sworn to secrecy . . . on pain of death.”

Okay,
thought Connor. Perhaps he
wouldn’t
ask Jacoby the question just yet.

“Enough preamble,” said Commodore Kuo. “The fact is that we’ve been watching you carefully, Connor, the other teachers and I. During this week you’ve spent with us at the Academy and — I confess — for a time before. And we’ve come to the conclusion, unanimously, that we’d like you to join the Federation. We think you’d be one of our very brightest recruits. And, without wishing to overstate my case, I think we could offer you a world of opportunity such as you can only imagine.”

Connor felt excited and intrigued by the offer. It was flattering to realize that they held him in such high regard, albeit a little disconcerting to know he’d been watched. It was becoming clear to him that the Federation had eyes everywhere.

“You don’t need to decide immediately, of course,” said Commodore Kuo, “but it would be helpful if we had an answer ahead of Captain Wrathe’s return at the weekend. I’ll need to prepare the ground, so to speak. And, it goes without saying that in order to join the Federation, you must first commit to study here at the Academy.”

Connor nodded. His head was racing with the new information.

“Tell me,” said the headmaster, “what are your initial thoughts?”