precious as fuel, and I couldn’t disagree with him. I had Paula to
think of. Campbell had sent a spate of cables to his ferrets, advising
them that they must keep their eyes on the movements of
Suarez-Navarro’s ship, and once we were at sea he became nervous. I
think he was unused to being cut off from the telephone. He haunted
the radio, but though he needed news he half didn’t want to get it, and
he certainly didn’t want to answer. We had a powerful radio telephone
that he had insisted on installing; it was an electronic shout that
could cover the Pacific. But he didn’t want us to use it for fear
the
Suarez-Navarro would monitor the broadcasts.
News did finally come that they had dropped anchor in Port Moresby, in
Papua, and, as in Darwin, were sitting tigh and doing nothing.
Campbell was as worried by their inactivity as he would have been if
they had been constantly on the move.
We all felt better when Esmerelda surged forward under the impact of
her engine. She forged through the placid seas at a steady nine knots
to where we would catch the southeast trade wind and find perfect
sailing weather. It wasn’t long before we picked up a southerly wind
and we headed South-west under fore-and-aft sails only, Esmerelda
heeling until the foaming sea lapped at the lee rail.
As the days went by the wind shifted easterly until the day came when
we knew we were in the true trade winds. We hoisted the big square
sails on the foremast and Esmerelda picked up her heels.
These were Kane’s home waters and, while we didn’t depend on him, he
was free with his advice on weather conditions to be expected. “A bit
further on we’ll get revolving storms,” he said. “Not to worry they’re
not very big – but my word they’re fast. On you like a flash, so
you’ve got to keep your eyes peeled.” Campbell turned out to be a poor
sailor and spent a great deal of time on his bunk regretting that ships
were ever invented. It was unusual for him not to be the master of the
situation, and he said he felt like a spare wheel on deck, surrounded
by men who were doing all sorts of mysterious things fast and well
without his guidance. He must have been hell to his mining engineers
on land.
Clare, on the other hand, was a good sailor. She worked hard on deck,
wearing the battered sailing gear she had promised us and a healthy
tan, and was greatly appreciated by all the crew, who had found her an
unexpected bonus on this leg of the voyage. She did help cook and kept
watch like the rest of us, but she also absorbed the books in our small
library like blotting paper, becoming especially interested in
Geordie’s collection of small boat voyages, many of which dealt with
the Pacific.
One evening she and I talked together and I got another look at my
brother, through Clare’s eyes.
It was one of those incredible nights you find in the tropics.
There was a waning moon and the stars sparkled like a handful of
diamonds cast across the sky. The wind sang in the rigging and the
water talked and chuckled to Esmerelda, and a white-foamed wake with
patches of phosphorescence stretched astern.
I was standing in the bows when Clare joined me. She looked across the
sea-path of the moon and said, “I wish this voyage would go on
forever.” “It won’t. There’s a limit even to the size of the
Pacific.”
“When will we get to Minerva?” “Perhaps never -we’ve got to find it
first. But we’ll be in the vicinity in a week if the weather keeps
up.” “I hope we were right about that drawing,”she said.
“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t tried interpreting them. What if we’re
wrong?”
“We’ll just have to think of something else. Figuring out Mark’s
mental processes was never an easy job at the best of times.”
She smiled. “I know.” “How well did you know Mark?” “Sometimes I
thought I knew him pretty well,”she said. “In the end I found I didn’t
know him at all.” She paused. “Pop doesn’t think much of what you’ve
said about Mark – about his honesty, I mean. Pop thought well of him
mostly,” I said, “Mark had many faces. He was working for your father
and he wanted something out of him so he showed his cleanest, brightest
face.
Your father never really knew Mark.” “I know. Speaking figuratively
and with due respect to your mother, Mark was a thorough-going
bastard.” I was startled and at the same time unsurprised. “What
happened?” She said reflectively. “I was a bit bitchy the other night
and then you pulled me up with a jerk when you called that singer “just
another of Mark’s popsies”. You see, I suppose I could be regarded as
“just another of Mark’s popsies”. It was the usual thing. It must
happen a thousand times a day somewhere in the world, but when it
happens to you hurts. I went overboard for Mark. I was all wrapped up
in to dreams – he was so damned attractive.” “When he wanted to be.
He could switch the charm on and off like a light.” “He let it happen,
damn him,” she said. “He could have stopped it at any time, but the
devil let it happen. I was hearing the distant chimes of wedding bells
when I discovered he was already married – maybe not happily but
married.” I said gently, “He was using you too, to get at your
father.
It’s not surprising behaviour from Mark.” “I know that now. I wish to
God I’d known it then. Mark and I had a lot of fun in those days, and
I thought it was going to go on forever. Do you remember-?” “Meeting
you in Vancouver? Oh yes.” “I wondered then, why you didn’t seem to
get on. You seemed so cold. I thought you were the rotter, and he
said things. . ..” “Never mind all that. What happened?” She
shrugged.
“Nothing – nothing at all. And I found out at about the same time that
Pop was having his troubles with Suarez-Navarro, so I didn’t tell him,
or anyone though I think he guessed something. Have you noticed that
he only praises Mark as a scientist, not as a person?” :And then Mark
vanished.” That’s right. He’d gone and I never saw him again.”
She looked ahead over the bows. “And now he’s dead – his body lies
somewhere out there – but he’s still pushing people around – We’re all
being pushed around by Mark, even now do you know that? You and me,
Pop and the Suarez-Navarro crowd, your friend Geordie and all your
commando pals – all being manipulated by a dead man with a long arm.”
“Take it easy,” I said. She sounded terribly bitter. “Mark’s not
pushing anyone. We all know what we’re doing, and we’re doing it
because we want to. Mark is dead and that’s an end to him.” It was
time to change the subject. I used the standard approach.
“Tell me about yourself, Clare. What do you do? When did your mother
die?” “When I was six.”
“Who brought you up? Your father was away a lot, wasn’t he?” She
laughed. “Oh, I’ve been everywhere with Pop. He brought me up.”
“That must have been some experience.” “Oh, it was fun. I had to
spend a lot of time at boarding schools, of course, but I always went
to Pop during the vacations. We weren’t often at home though -we were
mostly away.
Sometimes on a skiing holiday, sometimes to Europe or Australia or
South America during the longer vacations. I was always with Pop.”
“You’re well travelled.” “It was tricky at times though. Pop has his
ups and downs he hasn’t always been rich. Sometimes we had money and
sometimes we didn’t, but Pop always looked after me. I went to good
schools, and to college. It was only last year that I found out that
once, when Pop was on a crest, he’d put aside a fund for me. Even when
he was busted he never touched it, no matter how much he needed
money.”
“He sounds a fine man.” “I love him,” she said simply. “When the
Suarez-Navarro mob put the knife into him it was the first time I was
old enough to understand defeat.
I got down to studying stenography and so on, and he made me his
confidential secretary when he couldn’t afford to hire one. It was the
least I could do – he’d lost faith in everybody and he had to have
someone around he could trust. Although I didn’t feel too trusting
myself just about that time.” “He seems to have survived.” “He’s
tough,” she said proudly. “You can’t keep Pop down, and you can bet