“Very well. I will see what I can do.”
“Next thing I want is our position. Our exact position!”
“Why?”
“Never you mind. If we take to trustin’ you, we’ll tell you why. One other thing. I want a lantern. A little one so we can look at our map in the dark. It’s too hard to go over it in the daytime ’cause you never know when somebody’s peekin’ in the door at us.”
“I have a one-sided lantern in my quarters,” said the boy. Dennis knew he was a midshipman or something and he actually did trust him, at least. For one thing, the little guy was clearly terrified of Billingsly.
“That sounds fine, just fine. You do that, and maybe I can talk the princess into speakin’ a word or two to Rajendra if he happens to mosey by.”
“Thank you, sir!”
“You bet. Now run along before you get caught-but before you go, there’s one last, final little thing.”
“Sir?”
“I want all that stuff tonight, see?”
“I… I will do my best,” whispered the boy a little shakily. They heard his quiet footsteps retreat.
Silva turned to the others in the brig. He couldn’t really see more than dark shapes in the gloom, but he knew where everyone was. “Good work, li’l sister,” he said to Rebecca. “He seemed ready to pee himself. I figger somethin’s up and Rajendra thinks he’d better do somethin’ before it’s too late.”
“It does seem that way,” Sandra said in a worried tone. “Maybe they think they’re safe enough from pursuit that they can get rid of the ‘extra’ hostages.”
“I fear that may be the case,” Rebecca said. “Billingsly no longer even pretends to care what I do or where I go. Nor does he seem to think it important to maintain the fiction of my status aboard. He may plan to eliminate more than us.”
Silva doubted Billingsly was through with Rebecca yet, but she might be right about the rest. “Cap’n Lelaa?” he asked.
“Rajendra is a murderer,” she said miserably. She’d been badly traumatized by the destruction of her ship, and for quite a while, all she’d done was lie curled in a ball in a corner of the cell. Finally, however, she’d begun to take some interest in their situation. She was a naval officer and she couldn’t indulge in self-pity forever. Silva was glad she was snapping out of it. When things hit the fan, they were going to have to move fast. He knew Sandra, Rebecca, and Lawrence had plenty of guts, but though he didn’t dislike her, he considered Sister Audry a deadweight. He didn’t need another one to worry about when the time came.
“Yeah, I guess he’s a murderer,” Silva said, “but so am I, by most lights. If the kid’s right, he did what he thought he had to so’s to stay where he might help Rebecca. I’m not plumb sure that is what he had to do, but I’ll give him the doubt for now, ’cause I wadn’t there. Somebody else mighta just blown your ship to hell if he didn’t, an’ then where’d we be? He did give us a map, even if it’s kind of crummy.”
They’d spent many days explaining maps to Lawrence, describing them as pictures of the world from high in the sky, as if drawn by some bird that could fly higher than the eye could see. It finally began to sink in, and then they showed him places they’d been: Talaud, the Philippines, even as far west as Baalkpan, though the map was so out-of-date in that respect as to be almost useless. Between Lawrence and Rebecca’s imperfect memory of how long and in which directions they’d drifted in her boat with O’Casey, they pieced together which island or atoll they thought they’d found Lawrence on in the first place. Finally, from that, Lawrence was able to pinpoint roughly where he thought his home island was. “There is no land called Tagran on the chart, though,” he’d accused, “and I ne’er saw it fro’ the sky. I think it is this, though,” he’d decided, pointing at a rough rendition of what Silva thought was Yap Island. He’d never been there, but he’d seen plenty of charts and the screwy name had always stuck with him.
“Okay, I hope you’re right,” Silva had replied. “So long as they don’t eat us.”
Lawrence had glared at him and hissed. “They’ll take care o’ all o’ us. La’rence ’riends their ’riends! You all heroes, ring La’rence to Tagran Island land,” he’d said.
It wasn’t much, but it was a chance. An escape attempt to Talaud or even Mindanao would have been their best bet, but Abel had still been weak, and tension before and after Ajax ’s confrontation with Lelaa’s ships had made any attempt then impossible. Now that Billingsly knew there were no other Allied outposts, security surrounding them had grown lax. They were down to only two choices: they could stay aboard and risk whatever fate Billingsly had in store for them, or they could try to get off the ship and hope Lawrence’s Grik-like people would take them in.
For some reason, Silva didn’t seem particularly concerned with the mechanics of escape. He apparently thought Rajendra could be trusted, for selfish reasons at least, and believed his assistance might be handy, if not necessarily essential. Evidently, he didn’t even think he needed the key he’d asked for. He’d probably just thrown in the request as a further test of Rajendra. Ever since he started feeling more like himself, he’d given the impression that escape was just a matter of Sandra deciding when. According to the map, their approximate speed and position, and Lawrence’s best estimate regarding which island was his home, “when” would have to be the following night. That was when Ajax would pass most closely to the island where he thought his people dwelt.
Their discussion was interrupted by more footsteps in the passageway, followed by a quiet voice at the door. “Your Highness, it is I, Captain Rajendra. Midshipman Brassey is here as well. He says you might speak with me. I tell you it is of the utmost importance that you do. All our lives are at risk.”
“What of the lives of Captain Lelaa’s crew?” Rebecca hissed.
“I could not stop that!” Rajendra insisted. “I had hoped you would understand!”
So it was as Brassey said and Silva had speculated. There was no doubting the torment and sincerity in Rajendra’s tone. Either he was telling the truth or he’d missed his calling as a stage performer. Silva still thought there was one way Rajendra might have prevailed, but there was little point in bringing that up now. “Did you bring the stuff we asked for?” he asked instead.
“Yes. I will open the door and pass them through… Please make no attempt at the moment; I would prefer to help coordinate an escape by being elsewhere when it begins!”
There was a tiny clack as the tumbler in the lock disengaged and the door opened a fraction. A hooded lantern, already lit, preceded a piece of paper with some numbers written on it. Finally, Silva felt the large brass key pressed into his hand.
“Well, you done what we asked,” Dennis said, announcing the key transfer. “Whaddaya say, li’l sister?”
“I will trust him,” Rebecca replied. “Captain Lelaa?”
“I suppose we have no choice,” she said ominously. “For now. But if there is further treachery of any kind-”
“Hush now,” said Silva, and his tone hardened. “That goes without even sayin’!” He paused. “Loo-tenant Tucker?”
Sandra cleared her throat. “Tomorrow night, Captain Rajendra, providing the position you gave us corresponds with our calculations, we’ll be leaving your ship one way or another. If you can facilitate our escape, it would be appreciated.”
“Tomorrow night should work well,” Rajendra agreed. “Much later than that might be too late.” So. Rebecca was right. “This is what I have done, and can do. You may incorporate as much of it into your plans as you see fit. The carpenter has repaired the launch Mr. Silva shot such a gaping hole through. Tomorrow, I shall have it swung out to tow, to swell the wood. I would prefer the pinnace because it is larger and will carry more, but I have no excuse to put it in the water.”