Captain Nemo_ The Fantastic History Of A Dark Genius Part 20

Behind them, a hazy s.h.i.+mmer appeared in the air, moving across the desert. Caroline perked up. "If that is rain, can we refill our water tanks?"

Sickened, Nemo took out the spygla.s.s. "Not rain, Caroline -- that's a sandstorm."

The pillar of gusting winds picked up fine dust from the desert, leaving heavier sand grains at ground level. They had little enough time to fasten down loose objects. Thinking fast, Caroline gathered cloth for makes.h.i.+ft hoods to pull over their heads, mouths, and noses, leaving only a slit for their eyes.

The three huddled in the basket as the murky wind slammed the balloon off on a careening course. Choking grit coated them all with a layer of chalky, tan residue. The wind howled and shrieked, buffeting them back and forth. Caroline and Nemo clung to each other.

Fergusson said something unintelligible, then spat grit from his mouth and rubbed his dirty sleeve across his teeth, looking annoyed. The wind carried so many particles that it made a hissing sound. Static electricity created blue fingers of St. Elmo's Fire that skittered up and down the netting.

The storm drove them along for many miles. When the whipping gale cleared and dust settled out of the air, the newly washed landscape of gentle sandy slopes appeared unchanged. Nemo scanned the dunes with the spygla.s.s, while Fergusson and Caroline used rags to clear clinging dirt from the basket.

"Battered, but still intact, eh?" Fergusson said, optimistic. "If that storm cooperated, it could have taken us halfway to the coast by now."

They each took a ration of food and water, and drifted for another day on a brisk westward breeze. Like a miracle, the terrain changed again. The vagaries of weather had nudged them beyond the southern fringe of the Sahara, and even the scrub brush looked like a comparative paradise.

But Nemo realized to his dismay that their alt.i.tude was decreasing. He didn't voice his suspicions until he had stared at the balloon, watching the patterns of dust that clung to the silk. "The sandstorm weakened our seams. We're losing hydrogen faster than I had expected."

"We still have two hundred pounds of ballast to toss out, don't we?" Fergusson said. "Even though we have you aboard, my friend, we decreased our weight by six hundred pounds by removing the outer balloon."

Fergusson bent to pick up one of the heavy sacks at the bottom of the basket, but Nemo stopped him. "No. If we're going to descend anyway, let's take advantage of it. We can anchor for a while and replenish our supplies." By now, the near-empty water container held only a few cups of tepid liquid.

When they drifted close enough to the ground, they would tether the Victoria Victoria long enough to take on supplies; then they would get rid of ballast and hope to stay aloft all the way to the Senegal coast. From there, outposts of Portuguese, Dutch, British, or French would be within reach, even if the three explorers had to trudge overland and ask the locals for help. Coastal Africans were familiar enough with white traders and explorers that Fergusson expected to receive a.s.sistance without much risk. long enough to take on supplies; then they would get rid of ballast and hope to stay aloft all the way to the Senegal coast. From there, outposts of Portuguese, Dutch, British, or French would be within reach, even if the three explorers had to trudge overland and ask the locals for help. Coastal Africans were familiar enough with white traders and explorers that Fergusson expected to receive a.s.sistance without much risk.

After studying her charts, Caroline pointed out a river in the distance -- the Niger perhaps -- near which stood a city larger than the thatched villages they had seen before. Nemo looked through the spygla.s.s, studying towers and walls. "It must be an important trading center." It reminded him of Zanzibar City.

"It cannot be . . . but it must be!" Fergusson's voice was filled with delight. "That, my friends, is the fabled city of Timbuctoo. You must have heard the legends? A magnificent metropolis filled with treasure, the caravan crossroads from desert and coastal dwellers."

Caroline looked at the settlement. "I've heard stories, but I don't believe them. Roofs made of pure gold, vast libraries to rival even those of Alexandria. Its citizens are said to be doctors, judges, priests, or scholars."

Though it was a large town by African standards, Timbuctoo proved disappointing in light of the legends surrounding it. The beige towers and mosques were fas.h.i.+oned from hardened clay mixed with sand, supported with timbers of dried wood. Window holes in the mud-cement gave the structures the appearance of wasps' nests. Men moved about the narrow streets wearing loose robes. Camels and desert a.s.ses hauled loads from what appeared to be a bazaar near a water well at the center of the city.

Fergusson leaned over the side of the balloon. "Only one white man has ever laid eyes upon Timbuctoo and returned to tell the tale."

"Yes -- a Frenchman, Rene Caillie," Nemo said with a knowing smile. "He posed as an Arab, learned Arab ways, and joined a caravan. He started at the Senegal coast and journeyed inland until he reached Timbuctoo, where he spent a month recording his observations. Instead of returning the way he came, he headed north across the Sahara and finally reached Morocco two years later."

Dr. Fergusson desperately wanted to descend, to be the first Englishman Englishman there, but Nemo didn't dare waste their precious buoyancy. As the balloon drifted beyond Timbuctoo toward a green line of hills, Caroline put a hand on Nemo's arm. They still had a long journey to the coast. there, but Nemo didn't dare waste their precious buoyancy. As the balloon drifted beyond Timbuctoo toward a green line of hills, Caroline put a hand on Nemo's arm. They still had a long journey to the coast.

xi

Ahead, a black and brown buzzing cloud s.h.i.+fted with the winds, and then came straight for the balloon as if it were an intelligent, destructive storm. Fergusson stared perplexed at the oncoming apparition, trying to figure out what to write in his logbook.

But Nemo understood what it was. "It's a plague of locusts! They'll eat everything." In the distance, they could all see that the gra.s.slands had been completely razed.

Helpless and adrift, the travelers had no way to defend themselves as the locusts attacked like a hurricane. A hail of winged gra.s.shoppers pelted them, striking the basket, the ropes, and the balloon fabric itself. The insects chewed every sc.r.a.p of vegetable matter. Nemo tried to keep Caroline covered at the bottom of the balloon car, but she insisted on fighting back and climbed up to swat the locusts off the basket and her clothing.

Coughing, Nemo slapped the insects away from his face and knocked them from the vital ropes. The voracious gra.s.shoppers chewed at the cords and netting, cl.u.s.tering on anything they could devour. The sheer weight of the winged vermin made the balloon droop.

Fergusson hauled out his rifle, as if that might do anything, and then set to work crus.h.i.+ng the insects himself with the wooden stock. Nemo, his hands smeared with ichor from hundreds of smashed locusts, crawled up the rope to reach the outer netting. He clambered around the cords, brus.h.i.+ng gra.s.shoppers off into the air, but they merely circled back.

The buzzing sound was deafening. Caroline shouted to Nemo, but he couldn't understand her words. He watched her climb the opposite side of the balloon, working desperately, and then he saw what she had realized. If they didn't keep the insects away from the surrounding mesh, the balloon and the ropes would all fall apart, and they would plummet to their deaths.

Fergusson stamped on the locusts chewing the Victoria Victoria's basket. The humming made the air itself vibrate, as the swirling cloud of gra.s.shoppers kept coming and coming. Nemo reached the top of the balloon and nearly lost his grip as a frayed strand of netting snapped.

"It's like one of the plagues of Moses." Caroline spat out a gra.s.shopper that had flown into her mouth. Surprisingly agile, she climbed around the balloon, keeping the ropes clear, while Fergusson hurled curses at the gra.s.shoppers.

Then, a few moments later the lush gra.s.slands to the east proved a more tempting feast to the locusts. As the mindless swarm flew onward, some alighted, gnawed a mouthful of the basket frame or rope fibers, then moved on. They watched in awe as the buzzing cloud continued like a school of tiny piranhas to clear vegetation across the African countryside.

Nemo and Caroline at last lowered themselves into the Victoria Victoria's basket, then spent several minutes picking gra.s.shoppers from each other's hair and collars, pockets, and folds. At any other time, they might have found it amusing.

In the aftermath of the swarm, the balloon looked ragged and tattered, as if the whole vessel had been chewed by some giant beast and then spat out. The ropes were frayed, the colorful fabric of the inner balloon stained and spattered. Numerous tiny holes showed through the woven basket.

Luckily, according to Caroline's chart marks and Nemo's positional measurements, the Victoria Victoria had finally entered the environs of Senegal and Gambia, and they should be within a day of the west African coast. had finally entered the environs of Senegal and Gambia, and they should be within a day of the west African coast.

This news cheered the travelers somewhat, but still the leaking balloon sank with discernible speed. After replenis.h.i.+ng their supplies beyond Timbuctoo, they had discarded the last of their ballast. And now they needed to lighten their load more dramatically just to keep moving.

But the Victoria Victoria still had to pa.s.s over one more mountain range before they reached the coast. Unless Nemo could find some way to improve their buoyancy, the balloon would crash into the slopes. still had to pa.s.s over one more mountain range before they reached the coast. Unless Nemo could find some way to improve their buoyancy, the balloon would crash into the slopes.

xii

Covered with dense jungles, the line of low mountains loomed larger and more ominous by the hour. Beyond the hills, according to their maps, lay a river and lowlands that extended to the long-sought coast.

Then they would be across the continent, after five weeks in a balloon.

The sagging Victoria Victoria traveled in a weaving drunkard's course on the erratic winds. When they dropped to within a hundred feet of the treetops, they were close enough to see terrified animals even without their well-used spygla.s.s. traveled in a weaving drunkard's course on the erratic winds. When they dropped to within a hundred feet of the treetops, they were close enough to see terrified animals even without their well-used spygla.s.s.

Near the base of the rugged foothills, the balloon pa.s.sed over a streamside village, where they observed a huge commotion. At first, Nemo thought the frenzied activity must have been caused by the natives' superst.i.tious fear of their arrival, but then he noticed men tossing torches from one straw roof to another. The thatched huts went up in flames.

Tall villagers with glossy skin brandished spears defensively at men in billowing black robes riding muscular chestnut horses. The raiders carried swords and a few guns.

With a stricken expression, Caroline raised the spygla.s.s and handed it to Nemo. Now he could make out the slaughtered forms of village defenders lying on the bloodied ground while the mounted raiders charged about rounding up women and children. Nemo's shoulders sagged, and he felt sick with disgust and rekindled anger at seeing the atrocity of the slavers.

One lean woman, her face a mask of despair, thrashed loose from her captors and dashed toward a burning hut. Her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s were swollen, and Nemo suspected she was a new mother. Before she could reach the hut, which no doubt contained her child, one of the slavers galloped by and struck her down with his long sword. Wheeling his horse about, the black-robed raider charged through the cl.u.s.ter of captives, as if he wanted to kill even more of them. Intimidated and outnumbered, the villagers let themselves be rounded up.

Silent and slow, the balloon drifted over the ma.s.sacre, low enough that they could hear screams of anguish from the captured and dying. Sour smoke snaked around them as the flames devoured the remains of the village.

"I will not just sit idly by and allow this to happen," Nemo said. "We must disrupt the slavers however we can."

Wearing a grim expression, Caroline grabbed one of Fergusson's rifles herself while the doctor picked up the other. She looked at the Englishman, studied his huge black mustache and bushy dark hair. "This time we are not taking specimens, Doctor, and I am not just drawing sketches."

She fired the rifle at a raider and missed, but killed the horse beneath him. Fergusson aimed carefully and shot, knocking down a broad-shouldered man with a pointed beard. The other black-robed hors.e.m.e.n reined up and shook their fists at the balloon.

Several native women broke free of the circle and ran toward the tree-covered foothills. After Nemo reloaded Caroline's rifle, he killed another of the dark-clad slavers, but the surge of satisfaction did little to dampen his anger. Soon, however, the balloon had pa.s.sed over the scene of the ma.s.sacre and continued to drift west toward the mountains.

Enraged, the mounted raiders left the burning village with only two men to guard the captives. They rode over the terrain in pursuit of the sinking balloon. The slavers had old-fas.h.i.+oned guns as well, and lead b.a.l.l.s flew past the tattered Victoria Victoria; two struck the already-leaking silk bag. The balloon kept ahead of the raiders, though with the fresh bullet holes they lost alt.i.tude even faster now.

"We must hope the wind keeps up," Nemo said, "and that the slavers follow until that village can rally its defenses."

Below, the hors.e.m.e.n howled in a language Nemo could not understand -- but their intent was clear enough. In the lead, the tallest slave raider whipped his chestnut horse and thundered into the hills. Gradually, the travelers increased their lead, but as the wind carried the sinking balloon toward the mountains, Nemo realized the Victoria Victoria would never maintain sufficient alt.i.tude to cross the range. He hoped the raiders gave up before the balloon slammed into the mountainside. Yet the furious black-robed men showed no intention of slackening their chase. would never maintain sufficient alt.i.tude to cross the range. He hoped the raiders gave up before the balloon slammed into the mountainside. Yet the furious black-robed men showed no intention of slackening their chase.

"It appears we have gotten into trouble again," Caroline said, drawing a deep breath. "At least this time I have no regrets. We saved many people in that village."

"Indeed. Now we merely need to save ourselves ourselves, eh?" Fergusson reloaded both of his rifles. "I believe we're up to the task."

They sank lower and lower until the treetops were barely twenty feet beneath the basket. Nemo searched for any way to lighten their load. He threw out the last of their food and the remaining water container, as well as the heavy grappling hook. The bullet holes opened into wider gashes, and the Victoria Victoria began a more rapid descent as the mountains climbed beneath them. began a more rapid descent as the mountains climbed beneath them.

His thick brows drawn together, Fergusson looked long and hard at his scientific logbooks, which he dared not sacrifice; neither would he give up his rifles. Finally, he opted to throw four pounds of bullets over the side: a symbolic gesture, gaining them only a few minutes of flight, at most.

The winds gusted against the foothills, slowing the balloon's progress. The Victoria Victoria drifted in a circular motion that would snag them in a tangle of trees. drifted in a circular motion that would snag them in a tangle of trees.

As the slave raiders galloped after them, thras.h.i.+ng their mounts, the balloon's slackening pace allowed the hors.e.m.e.n to close the distance. From behind, two more gunshots rang out, and within moments the black-robed men would be upon the Victoria Victoria.

"We have no choice," Nemo said, looking up at the balloon, which sagged in its net. "We've got to get over these mountains." He picked up a rifle, loaded it and handed it to Caroline, then took the other for himself. "Doctor, please tie your journals securely inside your s.h.i.+rt. We'll be required to hang on tight."

"What are we doing? You've got an idea, eh? I can tell."

"I hope we're close to the river and the colony in Sierra Leone, Doctor," Nemo said. "We are going to cut away the car and hang onto the ring and netting for the rest of this journey."

While Fergusson gaped at him, Caroline climbed onto the edge of the basket and up into the webbing. One of the locust-chewed strands snapped under her weight, but she grabbed with the other hand and climbed higher. Nemo hoped the tattered ropes would hold long enough for them to get over the mountains and away from the vicious riders.

Fergusson secured his logbooks and followed Caroline up into the netting. Nemo placed a long knife between his teeth, remembering how he had climbed ratlines on the Coralie Coralie, and crawled up from the basket.

Holding firmly, he sawed at one of the st.u.r.dy ropes until it came apart. The basket lurched and dropped. The Victoria Victoria continued to descend. Nemo worked his way around the balloon ring and cut the second of the four ropes, imagining that he was cutting the throat of one of those evil slavers. continued to descend. Nemo worked his way around the balloon ring and cut the second of the four ropes, imagining that he was cutting the throat of one of those evil slavers.

Behind them, the raiders drew closer. The horses seemed to realize the closeness of their prey and put on an extra burst of speed. One of the black-robed men shot at the balloon, and Nemo saw another bullet hole open in the silken sack. As if to spite the travelers, the winds slowed again, bringing them to a near-standstill in the air as their pursuers closed the distance.

Nemo viciously sliced the third rope. Stretched out beneath Caroline, the only remaining cable began to fray by itself where the locusts had chewed it. Caroline took the knife from him, bent down, and slashed the last rope. With a loud snap, the basket broke free and tumbled end over end.

Liberated from this dead weight, the balloon bounded up into the sky until it reached another current, which pushed them toward the mountain crests. Nemo lost his grip, clung to another rope, riding the balloon as if it were a wild animal.

Below, a chestnut horse reared as its rider tried to wrestle his mount to one side, but the basket crashed on top of them. Rather than accepting defeat, the black-robed hors.e.m.e.n rode even more furiously, as if hoping the balloon might snag on a rocky pinnacle.

Breezes carried the Victoria Victoria toward the boulder-strewn ridge summit, but Nemo still wasn't sure they would make it. He hooked his arms and legs through the ragged netting and held on, his feet dangling. toward the boulder-strewn ridge summit, but Nemo still wasn't sure they would make it. He hooked his arms and legs through the ragged netting and held on, his feet dangling.

They sc.r.a.ped over the broad crest of the mountain. Still clutching the webbing, Nemo dropped and began to run, pulling the balloon forward. When they crossed the apex, he jumped back into the air. Like a gasping Greek marathon runner, the Victoria Victoria coasted over and down the western slope. Ahead, at the bottom of the foothills, they saw a broad fast-moving river that flowed toward a delta on the coast. coasted over and down the western slope. Ahead, at the bottom of the foothills, they saw a broad fast-moving river that flowed toward a delta on the coast.

"That must be the Senegal, eh?" Fergusson said, reaching inside his s.h.i.+rt as if to consult his maps. "A British protectorate, if I remember correctly."

Nemo stayed the explorer's hand. "We'll have plenty of time to study the charts after we land, Doctor," he said. "For now, we're at the mercy of wherever the winds take us."

"Will we stay afloat to cross the river, Andre?" Caroline asked.

He looked up at the deflating balloon, but doubted they would reach even the gra.s.slands at the base of the foothills. "We can hope, Caroline."

On the far side of the Senegal River, they would find European settlements and a fort -- and beyond that, the ocean. The Atlantic Ocean. The opposite side of the African continent, which they had traversed entirely, the first Europeans ever to do so.

But their triumph would be complete only if they lived lived to the end of the journey. Nemo looked at Caroline and promised himself that she would survive and return to France. to the end of the journey. Nemo looked at Caroline and promised himself that she would survive and return to France.

All too soon, however, like a horse that had been ridden until its heart burst, the Victoria Victoria simply gave up. The balloon sagged, and the explorers descended, clinging to the rope net, all the way down to the treetops. simply gave up. The balloon sagged, and the explorers descended, clinging to the rope net, all the way down to the treetops.

Nemo had to hold his feet away from the tearing branches, but soon they sc.r.a.ped over the scrubby hills to the gra.s.slands. The flatter terrain allowed them to keep moving with every gust of wind, though occasionally the dying Victoria Victoria struck the ground, before lurching into the air again like a bouncing ball. Each oscillation became smaller, the balloon no more than a wadded silk blanket around them. Dragged by ever-weakening gusts of wind, they struck the ground for the last time, half a mile from the wide Senegal River. struck the ground, before lurching into the air again like a bouncing ball. Each oscillation became smaller, the balloon no more than a wadded silk blanket around them. Dragged by ever-weakening gusts of wind, they struck the ground for the last time, half a mile from the wide Senegal River.

Nemo lashed the severed ends of the balloon ropes to low bushes, anchoring the empty sack. He suspected that inhabitants of the Sierra Leone Fort might have seen their dramatic approach and would come to investigate.

Dr. Fergusson steadied himself on his feet, then bowed his head, placing a hand over his heart. "Farewell, Victoria Victoria. You have served us admirably indeed. The remainder of our journey can be a mere epilogue." He patted the heavy scientific notebooks he had kept. "Despite our perils and misadventures, I must admit this has been quite a successful expedition. The Royal Geographical Society will be most chagrined that they refused to fund us, eh? Never again will they scoff at my innovative designs."

Caroline smiled at him.

"We should make camp here," Nemo suggested, looking around for food. The river would provide all the water they could want.

They built a large fire. As Nemo tried to doze, he gazed through the sparks and orange light to see Caroline lying on her back, staring up at the stars, also awake. Even disheveled from their long adventures, she still looked beautiful to him, just as when she had spent the night beside him under magnolia trees in the churchyard on Ile Feydeau.

Their journey together was nearly at an end. Soon Nemo and Caroline would return to France and their former lives. Nemo had no doubt that she would continue to run her father's s.h.i.+pping business, while he would take up another of Napoleon III's engineering projects. He hoped that by now the Emperor had found someone else to redesign the Paris sewer systems. . . .

And they would try to pretend. But during these five weeks he and Caroline had experienced too much together, had come to know each other too well, had grown too close for their situation ever to be the same. . . .

The next morning they awoke hungry, with no food left. Caroline brushed dry gra.s.s from her coppery hair. As she turned to watch the sun rise over the low mountains, her eyes flew wide open. While stealing a glance at her beautiful face, Nemo watched her expression change -- then he too saw the dark hors.e.m.e.n bearing down upon them out of the foothills, still several miles away.

The slave raiders must have ridden over the mountains through the night, intent on striking back at the balloon travelers.

The Senegal was a mile wide, and the current too fast to swim. The treeless lowlands offered no place to hide. Fergusson had only one small box of ammunition remaining and the two rifles. At least a dozen armed and murderous slavers pursued them.

Fergusson looked with alarm at the distant hors.e.m.e.n, then sadly down at the Victoria Victoria. "Alas, my friends, our balloon can serve us no more. We're out of hydrogen gas."

Holding his knife and ready to fight, Nemo tried to think of some way they could use the empty balloon to float on the river, but he knew the fabric would grow waterlogged and drag them under. He looked down at their small campfire, the few supplies they had. "Wait! We don't need hydrogen."

"But how, my friend? We have no way to inflate the balloon."

"Yes, we do. Caroline, grab as much wood and dry gra.s.s as you can. Pile it on the campfire." He fixed his dark-eyed gaze on Fergusson. "We'll make another kind of balloon out of the Victoria Victoria, Doctor. Remember the Montgolfier brothers."

"Ah yes, they were French." Fergusson barked out a loud laugh. "A hot air balloon, eh? The sack should still achieve enough buoyancy to carry us aloft."

Nemo grabbed one corner of the huge silk sack while Fergusson went to the other end. "We only need to cross the river. From there we'll go on foot to the fort. It's Portuguese, I think, or maybe Dutch."