The deck wasn’t crowded anymore. Courtney figured everyone was getting settled in and ready for their fancy dinners. That was good. Less people to dodge. She made it to the end of the enclosed portion of the Promenade Deck and ran outside to face a big, orange November sun that was setting over the coast of the United States. The passengers outside were silhouetted against the orange ball, so it was difficult to make out details. She ran to the aft railing of the Promenade Deck and looked to the decks below.
Many people were outside to enjoy the sunset. All eyes were to the west. Nobody was looking back at her. Her frustration grew. It was impossible to make anybody out. She was about to start sprinting along each deck to get a closer look at the people when her eye caught something two decks below. There was a couple standing close to each other. They wore long, dark gray woolen coats to keep the sea chill away. The man wore one of those fedora hats. The woman was a few inches taller than he was. Her hair was dark brown, cut just above her shoulders. It was parted on the side and perfectly combed under a small, gray hat. Though there was a sea breeze, not one hair looked out of place. Her back was to the sun as she spoke to the man, which meant she faced Courtney. Even from where she was, Courtney could tell the woman was pretty. But none of those details mattered as much as the fact that the man clutched two leather books under his arm. The guy might have just come from the library.
He turned to face the woman, and Courtney saw his profile. He wore wire-rimmed glasses. A slight curl of black hair could be seen creeping from under his hat.
Courtney stopped breathing.
“Ma-,” she began to yell, but was rudely yanked away from the railing and shoved against an outside wall. She hit the steel hard.
“Ahoy, Chetwynde,” came a familiar voice.
Courtney focused on the man who had attacked her. He wore a long dark coat and peered at her from underneath the brim of a gray hat.
“Nothing like a little sea air to get the blood moving, is there?” the guy said, after which he snorted and spit out a loogie onto the deck.
“Mitchell,” Courtney gasped.
“Welcome aboard,” Andy Mitchell said with a sneer.
Saint Dane was back in play.
(CONTINUED)
“How come you didn’t die in that cab?” Mitchell asked obnoxiously.
“Don’t give me that,” Courtney spat back. “If you wanted to kill me, I’d be dead. You knew we’d get out of there.”
Mitchell snickered. “Still sure of yourself, Chetwynde. Right to the end.”
He wore the same kind of suit and long coat as many of the passengers, making him look a lot older than seventeen years. His normally long, greasy blond hair was cut short, adding even more years to his look. Of course, Courtney knew he wasn’t really seventeen anyway.
Courtney kept her back to the wall, like a trapped animal. She couldn’t yell for help. Saint Dane hadn’t done anything wrong. The only thing yelling would do was bring the crew down on her.
“I don’t know what you did to get Mark to come to First Earth,” Courtney said. “But I’m going to stop him from springing Forge on this territory. I got here in time for that.”
Mitchell laughed a laugh that turned into a smoker’s hack. Courtney cringed.
“In time?” he croaked. “You think you’re to stop this territory from learning about Forge? Time is the last thing on your side! Where do you think I got that plastic stuff from? Third Earth. That’s over three thousand years from now.”
“I knew you didn’t invent that,” Courtney snarled. “The heart of Forge is Mark’s computer skeleton, not the plastic skin. All you did was mix technology from different territories. Again.”
“Exactly!” Mitchell said. “Tripping through time is a wonderful thing. By Earth years, Lifelight won’t be invented for another five centuries after Third Earth. The dados on Quiilan were built a century after that and brought to the ruins of Rubic City two hundred years later. Do you really think time is a problem for me? I have all the time in Halla!”
Courtney’s mind reeled at the possibilities. The impossibilities.
“C’mon, Chetwynde!” Mitchell scoffed. “Do you really think you’ve made it here in the nick of time? Why’s that so important? You trying to stop the Flighters from destroying Ibara? Is that it? You trying to help Pendragon? That’s a joke. That battle ain’t gonna happen for thousands of years!”
“No,” Courtney said, stalking forward. She was angry enough to think she could bully him the way she used to. Before she knew he was Saint Dane. “It’s about Mark, and his invention. It’s not about time. It’s about tricking the people of the territories into hurting themselves. That’s what’s important to you. You somehow got Mark to do the wrong thing. I’m going to change that.” She got right into Mitchell’s face and added with venom, “And you can’t stop me.”
Andy Mitchell’s eyes flashed blue, jolting Courtney back to reality. This wasn’t Andy Mitchell, world-class loser. This was Saint Dane, Halla-class demon. She took a few involuntary steps backward and hit the wall.
“Don’t forget who you’re dealing with,” Mitchell snarled. “Andy Mitchell ain’t real.”
“No, but Mark Is,” Courtney said, fighting to regain her composure. “And I’m going to save him.” She ran to the railing. “Mark!” she called out.
But Mark was gone. She looked around quickly, hoping to see the couple strolling away. She was too late. The sun dipped below the horizon. The ship’s lights were taking over the job of lighting the decks.
“I’m going to find him,” she said as she spun back. “And I’m going to-“
Mitchell was no longer alone. Standing next to him were two ship’s officers, both looking very military with their dark blue uniforms.
“I ain’t no snitch,” Mitchell said to the officers politely. “But she’s been running around here bothering a lot of people. I think she might be a stowaway.”
There was a frozen moment. The two officers looked at Courtney with grim expressions. Andy Mitchell stood between the two wearing a smug grin. He lifted up his hand and gave her a small, obnoxious wave that only she could see.
“Come with us, miss,” said one of the officers as they both took a step toward her. “No trouble now, if you please.”
Courtney made a snap decision. She ran. She didn’t know where she was going, but she ran. She had to find Mark. She had to find Dodger. Most of all she had to keep from getting taken into custody by the ship’s crew, because if that happened, she’d be done. Mark would be done. Halla would be done. She ran down a flight of stairs to the deck below and sprinted back into the structure of the ship. If there was one thing Courtney could do, it was run. She knew that in a flat-out race, she’d beat anybody. It was time for her to kick on the afterburners. She casually along. She knew she had an advantage. She might not know the ship, but her pursuers didn’t know which way she would go. It was like soccer, she thought. Defense was much tougher than offense because the person with the ball was in charge. Courtney was in charge.
She ran until she hit an inside stairway and took it back up to the Promenade Deck. Her plan was to take as winding a route as possible to try and lose them. She climbed the stairs and took off back toward the stern. Bad move. One of the officers had stayed on that deck and was coming toward her. Oops. He hadn’t spotted her yet, so Courtney ducked into the first door she saw.
She found herself in an immense, elegant dining room. The ceiling soared impossibly high overhead, where several rectangular lights cast a warm glow over the room. Polished wooden pillars stood along either side of the space, making the room look as much like an ancient temple as a modern ballroom. On one end of the room was a stage, where a swing orchestra played soft (boring) music. Hundreds of tables were set with fine, white linen and elegant china. People were beginning to arrive for dinner. The men wore tuxedos, the women lavish gowns. Courtney was stunned to think that such an elaborate room could be aboard a floating ship. But there wasn’t time to hang out and admire the place. She ran down the center of the room, headed toward the orchestra. To the left of the stage was a swinging door, where she saw waiters entering and exiting. Her plan was to head that way and escape through the kitchen.
The plan changed when one of the ship’s officers entered through that door. Courtney made a flash decision.
