Pirates of the Archipelago, Part Ten
The race, and what came of it.


Pirates of the Archipelago

Part Ten

I was down at the harbour by seven o'clock. I didn't tell Mum what I was doing; I just left a note on the fridge door saying I'd be back late. That wasn't so unusual during the school holidays. Yes, I should have let her know where I was going, but if I had she'd have stopped me. She'd have been right, too, but look - I was doing it for Leaven. She wouldn't have understood that. Really she wouldn't. Really.

It was going to be a long day, so I made sure I had everything I might need. Plenty of food, two big bottles of water. A couple of sweaters and a windcheater. A sou'wester and a spare pair of shoes. And, most important, my locator in its wooden box, ready to attach to Albatross's centreboard case

I was just doing up its clips when Roy Awdry appeared, carrying a holdall and wearing a kind of one-piece suit made of what looked like nylon.

'Hi, Annie.'

'Avast-ye, landlubber. Are you all set?'

'Of course.' He grinned. 'Got the trophies ready to hand over?'

'You'll be lucky!'

'Sure I will.' Roy dropped the holdall into his boat and jumped in after it. 'Right,' he said. 'We know what we're doing?'

'South, to the Ring and back.'

'That's right. Now, take this.' Roy handed me a piece of card. 'We'll go to the southern sea-lock. When we get there, we'll ask the lock-keeper to sign and time-stamp our cards, so we'll have proof we reached the Ring. Otherwise, you'll never know for sure I got there.'

'Sounds fair enough. How will you find the way there? I'll be well on my way back to Leaven Peak by the time you reach the lock - if you reach it at all.'

'That's all right.' Roy held up a small black object. 'I've got my phone. It's got a built-in navigator. What about you?'

'Born and bred in the Ring, sonny. But don't worry; I've got a geolocator.'

If Roy was impressed by my boast he hid it well; better, probably, than I had when he mentioned his phone. I'd never heard of that - a boy my age having his own phone. Why, there were probably less than a thousand hand-phones on the whole of Glory.

'So. We're all set.'

'Yes. What did you tell them?'

'My parents? Nothing; just that I would be out and about all day and I'd be back late. They're deep in conferences and stuff today. They won't miss me. Come on, let's get going. Good luck, Annie.'

'Good luck, Roy.'

And silently, with no flags, no starting gun and no cheering crowd, we hoisted sail and slipped out of Porth Leaven harbour and began our run to the Ring and back. The air was fresh, with a gentle westerly eddying around Junction Point, and the Blessèd sun hanging above the horizon. There was a bite taken out of one side - Hally was going into transit. Sally was still visible on the other side of the sky and our moon was hidden on the far side of Glory. We often had a westerly breeze on Leaven when the worlds entered conjunction like this. No doubt the 'Down or the brainboxes on Horn knew why that was so.

As for the other implication of the worlds' alignment... I should known. I should have realised. I'd lived on Leaven all my life, hadn't I? But... But me no buts. I was in a funny state of mind and I wasn't thinking straight. It was the sailing, and the race, and the danger to the livelihoods of my friends and neighbours, and being mauled by Jim Doran out on the sands...

Excuses, excuses; I know.



To begin with we were pretty evenly matched and we sailed close enough to each other that we could chat, or exchange a few words at least. But later on, as our contest entered its second hour, Roy started to build up a bit of a lead. That lead steadily grew as the wind swung round to the south and Roy's boat's advantage in sailing close-hauled began to tell. After three hours, with a familiar easterly ruffling my left cheek and my boom hanging out at forty-five degrees on Albatross's starboard side Roy was at least half a mile ahead.

Well, I told myself, cleating my mainsheet and lashing the tiller to the thwart so as to free my hands, that was what I wanted, wasn't it? To let Roy win? Not let, exactly - I was sailing as fast as I reasonably could - but I wasn't pouring my heart and soul into beating him either. A win for Roy Awdry would be a win for Leaven, with honour satisfied on all sides. Yes, I'd have some explaining to do - why had I thrown away my trophies? - but I'd manage that. The grown-ups would put it down to Annie, or Annie's age, or Annie's hormones, or some similarly crass reason. They'd never know about our agreement and that was fine. I'd know, and that was all that mattered.

So I'd enjoy the trip, although it was not turning out to be the pleasant sail I'd hoped it would. The wind was fitful, never blowing very hard, but never quite falling away completely. High clouds were obscuring the Blessèd sun, robbing the air of its brightness and the waves of their sparkle. And there was one other thing. Something nagging at the back of my mind. Something I'd forgotten. There was a hole in the Blessèd sun now, a black disc marking where Hally was silhouetted against its light. The combination of the cloud - which was thickening up - and the obstruction of the light was causing the temperature to drop along with the wind. I found myself shivering and reached into the forward locker to retrieve a sweater.

Albatross was sailing herself quite happily with no attention needed from me. I checked the locator; yes we were on course. There wasn't much for me to do, so I sat in the bottom of the hull and ate a sandwich or two and drank some of my water. And then, with my boat rocking me gently as we cruised south I started to doze. My mind wandered at random, my eyes flickered shut. Half the time I was falling asleep, then I was waking again, until it was hard to tell the difference between sleep and wakefulness. My dreams, ill-formed and vague while I slept, became unreliable memories when I awoke. Sea-dreams, land-dreams, dreams in which I shouted aloud from the top of the Peak or smothered under piled-up blankets, unheard either way. Dreams in which monsters roared - monsters who were following me, closer, ever closer, and who I could not escape; cruel, inexorable. I stirred with sudden jerky movements in my unrest and Albatross dipped her gunwales in sympathy.

I lay in this state of uncertain consciousness for an uncertain length of time, then woke with a damp face and a strand of hair caught in my mouth, choking me. I sat up, alert and aware, restored to full wakefulness in a fraction of a second. It was cold and clammy and Albatross's ropes and spars were beaded with moisture. I checked the locator's clock. Four hours had passed since we'd left Porth Leaven. I called out, 'Roy! Roy!' but there was no answer. He must have been well over a mile ahead of me by then.

The cloud had thickened further while I slept, dropped down to the water and turned into fog. The wind was becoming ever more unreliable, leaving us in a flat calm for minutes at a time. I checked the locator and cheered up a little. Either because of our good early progress, or because I couldn't see more than fifty yards ahead at the most and had no visual idea of how far it was to the Ring, I had assumed that we were no more than half-way across the Inner Sea. But now, according to the locator, we were only two miles from the southern sea-lock and its barrage. I scratched my head. That didn't make any sense. I checked Albatross's wake, but there was hardly any swirling of water under her stern. We were making practically no progress through the water. The sails were flapping uselessly, threatening to back at any time and whack me across the head with the boom. And yet… I wet a finger and held it up. There was definitely a breeze. Not much of one, that was true, but there all the same. And… it was blowing towards me. And at the same time I heard the ten-second drone of the warning siren. The monster-voice of my dream. The inexorable doom.

It was then, when it was much too late, that I realised what was going on. Too late… but perhaps not for me. According to the locator I was only four hundred yards from the Ring. There might still be time to turn aside and if I dropped the sails and paddled like hell, for my life, as I had never paddled before, I might reach the safety of the rocky part of the Ring. But for Roy it would be too late, and it was all my fault. I should have known all along.

Worlds conjoined. Our moon new, Hally in transit. They meant only one thing:

Flushing tide.

Panicky thoughts whirled around in my head. The barrages were down and water was flooding out of the Inner Sea into the ocean beyond. Save yourself, Annie! Paddle hard to port, reach the Ring at least fifty yards from the sea-lock and you'll be safe until the tide turns. But… Roy! Roy was doomed. There was nothing I could do about it. He was lost, and if I made it home safely and said nothing, then nobody would ever know what had happened. There would be a search, and everyone on Leaven would do everything they could to find him. There was nobody except me who knew he'd been making for the Ring. If I kept quiet, nobody would guess. After a day or two, they'd give up the search. His parents would go home sorrowing and that would be that. Nobody would be blamed for anything. It was just one of those things. No guarantees in this life. Nobody's fault. Nobody to blame.

Except me. Me, Annie McLuskie, who was too stupid, too wrapped up in herself to take simple, obvious precautions. Heavens help us, there was a tide schedule fixed to the harbour wall, wasn't there? It was updated by the Monitor every day, from information beamed to us by the 'Down, safely scanning the oceans from her hour-and-a-half orbit of Glory. The 'Down and her little flock of comsats, watching over us, keeping us safe.

Comsats… The 'Down… And I knew what I had to do. Roy was lost. But wait: he had a phone. He could call for help. And I - I could ground Albatross, run around the Ring to the lock-keeper's house and raise the alarm. Yes, that was what I had to do and there was very little time left in which to do it. I dropped the sails, got out the paddle and worked as hard as I could, driving Albatross across the current. And if I'd caught on earlier, if I'd come out of my sea-dreams in time, this plan might have worked. But I was too near to the Ring and the current - the deadly current that was now blowing a ten-knot wind directly into my face - was too strong for me, as it was too strong for Roy.

I tried my best, but it was with a sickening surge of despair in the back of my throat that I saw the southern barrage's winch-towers looming up out of the fog and knew that the safety of the lock was at least a hundred yards to port and unreachable. I was being swept ever faster towards the barrage. Might my boat be caught up on one of its piers long enough for me to jump out and climb to safety? That was my last chance.

It was my last chance and a long shot and it didn't come off. I could tell it wasn't going to work. The current was being squeezed between the winch towers and any free-moving object, like Albatross, was forced to the middle of the stream. I would have to stay with my boat - we would sink or swim together. With only twenty yards to go, I dived into the bottom of the hull and grabbed hold of the thwart with both hands, jamming my feet hard against the transom. I took in a deep breath. There was nothing more I could do now. It was all down to Providence and Albatross's strength and seaworthiness.

I think I screamed as we shot over the barrage and dropped to the ocean far below, but my voice was drowned in the roar of the waters. I had fallen off the edge of the world, as the straying sailors of Old Earth had fallen when it was still flat. Now I was committed to the Great Ocean, in which the lands and the Greater and Lesser Beasts swim; where men are lost, where my Daddy was taken away from me, where he died. Now I was lost, now I was taken away; now I too was dead.