The Spear of Atlantis (Wilde/Chase 14), Page 3

  ‘Yeah, but PG stands for “parental guidance”, right? I’m her parent, and I was guidancing. I did tell her to look away when the bad guy got thrown into the mummification machine and had all his blood sucked out.’

  Nina folded her arms. ‘And did she?’

  ‘She’s seven, what do you think?’

  A sigh. ‘We are the world’s worst parents. And by we, I mean you.’

  Eddie shrugged. ‘She’s smart, she knows it’s not real. Don’t you, love? You’ve been on set, you know it’s all just actors and special effects.’

  Macy nodded. ‘The director let me hold Osiris’s skull!’

  ‘Did he now,’ said her mother disapprovingly, before shaking her head. ‘And it still bugs me that they’re ignoring what actually happened and making up whatever nonsense they like. They brought the supernatural into the last one, for God’s sake. I wish I had magic powers from being descended from the Atlanteans, but I don’t.’

  ‘You were able to use Excalibur to cut stuff like a lightsaber,’ said Eddie, reminding her of a past adventure when they discovered the legendary sword of King Arthur. ‘And you’ve got the,’ he tapped his temple, ‘brainy thing.’

  ‘Being able to do complex math in my head isn’t a magical power!’

  A knock on the connecting door ended the discussion. Nina let her grandmother in. ‘You look nice.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Olivia replied. She too was wearing a dress, though hers was more traditionally formal. ‘I may be ninety-three, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy dressing up.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Fifty-nine minutes on the dot. Now, let’s see how punctual that girl is.’

  ‘She’s a grown woman, not a girl,’ Nina chided. ‘And don’t treat her like a serving maid, either!’

  Another knock, this from the main door. Macy skipped to open it. ‘It’s Ana!’

  ‘Hello,’ said the Brazilian. ‘I’ve been asked to bring you to the Emir.’

  ‘We’re all ready,’ Nina told her.

  ‘Okay.’ She turned to Olivia. ‘Mrs Garde, the Atlantia is a very big ship. Would you like a mobility scooter?’

  Olivia bristled. ‘Absolutely not. I’m perfectly capable of walking, thank you.’

  ‘Thank you for offering, though,’ Nina said to Ana, who nodded appreciatively. ‘Shall we go?’

  Ana brought them to a VIP lounge overlooking the bow. Waiting were the Emir and a smaller contingent of his entourage, including his sister and Captain Snowcock. ‘Hello again,’ said Fadil. ‘I’m delighted that you could join us.’

  ‘We’re looking forward to the tour,’ Nina replied.

  ‘Good, good. I will show you around the Atlantia personally – I am very proud of her!’

  The tour began, the Emir reeling off facts and figures as they took a lift to the uppermost deck. ‘The world’s largest, most luxurious and most ecologically friendly passenger liner,’ he said. ‘Over two billion dollars to build, two hundred and fifty-six thousand gross tonnes, four hundred and two metres long – bigger than the largest American aircraft carrier. But it produces under a quarter of the pollution of its nearest rival.’

  ‘That’s quite an improvement,’ said Nina.

  He nodded. ‘Normal liners burn marine diesel for fuel – filthy stuff, and the largest burn twelve tonnes of it per hour. That is as much pollution as a million cars. But Atlantia uses liquefied natural gas, and its engines are hybrids – almost an entire deck below is full of batteries. Our ultimate goal is to make an entirely electric propulsion system, but for now, anything that reduces the use of oil is an improvement.’

  ‘I thought Dhajan was a big oil producer,’ said Eddie. ‘Aren’t you putting yourself out of business?’

  ‘Dhajan was a big oil producer, yes. But we are only a small country, and we do not have the same reserves as our neighbours – Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Bahrain and the other emirates.’

  ‘Our regional rivals,’ said Alula, with an undertone of hostility.

  ‘Since I took the throne, I have diversified our economy. When demand for oil falls, which it will as more cars become electric, we will have other means of support.’

  They emerged from the lift. The front of the liner’s top deck was sheltered by a large geodesic dome, a streamlined glass shell housing a bar and sun lounge. The Emir led them aft, however. The deck divided a quarter of the way down the vessel’s length, broad wings housing cabins on either side of a twelve-storey atrium running along the centreline. Shouts and squeals came from one of its main attractions: a giant zip-line to starboard, the cable running beneath bridges and cross-decks down to the centre of the stern. A hanging cage was descending, the legs of its dozen shrieking passengers dangling as they swept away from its launch platform.

  Macy ran to the railing to watch. ‘Oh, cool! Can we have a go?’

  ‘Maybe later, love,’ Eddie told her.

  ‘Just one of the many entertainments,’ said the Emir. ‘All kinds of pools and water sports, climbing walls – even a jungle bio-dome. Then we have shops, restaurants, bars, casinos, cinemas, live shows, go-karts – electric, of course!’

  ‘Of course,’ Nina said with a smile. Alula, however, had revealed a flicker of distaste at the mention of the bars and casinos, suggesting she was more conservative than her brother – though the redhead suspected she was not a fan of the colossal floating pleasure palace as a whole.

  ‘Then there is dancing,’ the Emir continued, ‘cookery lessons, exhibitions, boats and jetskis – but I’m giving everything away!’ he said with a laugh.

  He led them down the promenade’s starboard leg. Several passengers recognised the Dhajani ruler, phones coming up to take photos. But he was not the only celebrity in the group; Nina saw a couple of people snapping pictures of her. ‘Ay up,’ said Eddie. ‘You’ve got fans. Must’ve seen your TV show.’

  ‘Or read my book,’ she replied, hoping it was the latter. While her time as the presenter of a television documentary series had brought her additional fame beyond what she already had as the world’s best-known archaeologist – ‘non-fictional’, she would qualify whenever anyone mentioned Indiana Jones or Lara Croft – it had also led to repercussions she preferred not to dwell upon.

  ‘The Atlantia’s hull is seventy metres across,’ the Emir continued. ‘Two hundred and . . . twenty feet, I believe?’

  Snowcock was about to give the exact size, but Nina had already made the conversion in her head. ‘Twenty-nine.’

  ‘Ah! Excellent, even bigger. Its nearest rival is only sixty-five metres. We could have used that extra width to squeeze in more cabins, but they would have been very small. I come from a small country – I appreciate space.’

  ‘It’s crowded enough as it is down there,’ said Eddie, regarding the packed atrium. ‘How many people can it take?’

  ‘Seven thousand and fifty-three passengers at maximum capacity,’ Snowcock told him. ‘This voyage, it’s just over five and a half thousand pax. Plus almost three thousand crew.’

  ‘When Pacifia sets out on her maiden voyage from Dhajan next week,’ said Fadil, ‘she will have, I believe, six thousand eight hundred passengers.’

  The Yorkshireman was about to say more, but was taken aback when his phone rang. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Didn’t think I’d get reception in the middle of the sea.’

  The Emir pointed out two large communications dishes flanking the glass carapace at the front of the superstructure. ‘The ship has satellite links and its own cell masts. Just because you are on a cruise doesn’t mean you should be out of touch! All included in the price. I do not like to . . . what is the English slang? “Gouge”, to gouge my guests. Please, take your call.’

  Eddie did so. ‘Hi, Gerry. No, I’ll call you later. I’m on a boat . . . No, I haven’t turned into a salty seaman, you cheeky sod. Yeah, talk to you soon.’ He disconnected. ‘Business associate. Sorry.’

  ‘It is no problem,’ the Emir assured him. ‘As I was saying, our competitors gouge their guests; they
will charge thirty dollars to use the gym, twenty dollars a day for Wi-Fi, five dollars for a Coca-Cola. We ask for a little more up front, but most things are included in the price.’

  They reached the largest of the cross-bridges over the atrium. This housed a bar and restaurant complex, resembling a UFO that had landed on the liner’s back. Rather than enter, the Emir brought them to a bank of glass elevators. ‘I will take you to the shopping decks. They are where we make back our money!’ he added with a wink.

  Ana had already called a lift, holding the doors open. ‘Thanks,’ Nina told her, before turning to Olivia. ‘You okay?’

  ‘I’m not an invalid, Nina,’ her grandmother told her. ‘I may use a cane, but I’m perfectly capable of walking.’

  ‘Grams got frostbite and had to have two of her toes chopped off!’ Macy announced excitedly.

  ‘Thanks for telling everyone that, darling,’ said Nina with a fixed smile.

  The lift descended, giving its occupants a better view of the atrium before stopping on the level below. To Nina, it seemed they had gone from a ship to an expensive mall. A boulevard wound along its length, carefully designed to funnel passengers to clusters of shops. They sold designer clothing, shoes, cosmetics – nothing that couldn’t be bought on shore, and probably for half the price, but none were having trouble attracting customers.

  ‘Mom, look! Mom!’ Macy cried, tugging at her arm. ‘It’s you and Dad!’

  Nina looked to see what she meant, only for her heart to sink. ‘It’s not really us,’ she explained to her quizzical hosts. ‘They’re from the movies based on my books. Very, very loosely based.’ Nearby was a toy shop, featuring in its windows a selection of merchandise from the most recent film in the series, The Pyramid of Doom.

  ‘Oh, these I must see!’ proclaimed Fadil, giving Macy a conspiratorial grin.

  ‘No, we don’t have to . . . Ugh, fine,’ Nina sighed as her daughter tugged him into the store.

  ‘There they are!’ said Macy, pointing out a display of action figures.

  ‘I’m afraid,’ said the Emir apologetically, ‘they are not a very good likeness.’

  ‘They’re not us us,’ said Eddie. ‘That’s Jason Mach; he’s based on me, but he’s played by Grant Thorn.’

  ‘Ah, yes. The star of the car movies? And one about a baby in the White House?’

  ‘Afraid so,’ said Nina, shaking her head. First Baby, starring their Hollywood A-list friend, had been as terrible as she’d expected after first hearing Grant’s pitch, yet somehow had earned hundreds of millions of dollars. ‘And that’s Eden Crest, who’s . . . well, she’s based on me insofar as she’s an archaeologist, but that’s pretty much where any similarities end. And they didn’t even keep the same actress for the newest film, they recast her!’ she added, offended. ‘I guess they thought nobody would notice. ’Cause, y’know, women are interchangeable.’ Alula seemed to share her disapproval. ‘I mean, they couldn’t even get the colour of my hair right. I’ve been a redhead my whole life, never a brunette.’

  Macy was not interested in debating Hollywood sexism, instead jabbing a finger at another toy. ‘And look! They’ve got a trikan.’

  ‘You’ve already got one, love,’ Eddie said.

  ‘But this one lights up!’

  The Emir peered at the item. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A trikan? It’s an Atlantean weapon,’ said Nina. The toy was a palm-sized disc with three curved blade-like arms spiralling outwards, connected by a string to a plastic handgrip. ‘There’s actually a real-life example in the exhibition on this ship. The movie version, though? It’s . . . well, a cross between a boomerang and a yo-yo, only magic. It’s all very silly. Unfortunately, I don’t get to cut things I don’t like out of the script.’

  ‘If you did, there’d be nothing left,’ her husband pointed out.

  ‘I will buy it for you, Macy,’ said the Emir. ‘If your parents will allow me?’

  ‘Uh . . . sure,’ said Nina reluctantly, not seeing how she could refuse.

  He spoke to the man at the counter, who hurriedly fetched him one of the toys. ‘Thank you!’ cried Macy, delighted, as Fadil presented it to her.

  ‘Glad we let him buy it,’ Eddie whispered to Nina. ‘It was fifty bloody dollars! No wonder he said they make back their money down here. Bet it’d be about twenty at Walmart.’

  ‘Give it six months, it’ll be three bucks fifty in the discount aisle,’ she replied.

  They continued through the mall. A melange of expensive scents wafted out from a perfume store, the glint of gaudy gold jewellery twinkling from its neighbour. Deciding that none of the shops offered anything of the remotest interest to her, Nina turned her attention back to the ship itself. Despite the Atlantia’s size, she had been unable to shake a constant feeling of vague claustrophobia. The corridors serving the cabins were narrow, barely half as wide as in a hotel on land, and even in the spacious mall everything was just a little bit low, the heavy crystal chandeliers oppressively close. She was glad of the brief respite when they passed a set of escalators, daylight from above piercing the artificial glow.

  The group continued back towards the bow. ‘We should have brought our bikes,’ Eddie joked. Macy had become fast enough on a bicycle to make it impossible for her parents to keep up without their own.

  ‘It’s a big ship, sure, but it’s not Central Park,’ said Nina. ‘Although you don’t get sea views from there . . .’ She trailed off, realising that what she had thought was a huge panoramic window actually had a shop entrance behind it. ‘Wow, is that a TV screen? I honestly thought it was a real window.’

  Eddie peered at it. ‘It looks 3-D.’

  ‘It is,’ said the Emir proudly. ‘The very latest. No need for glasses!’ As he spoke, the view changed to an angle over the bow, with Africa to port and Europe starboard, the helicopter at the bottom of the frame. ‘We have many of them, to show the passengers what is happening outside. Why be on a ship if you cannot see the sea?’

  They reached the mall’s forward end, Snowcock leading the way to another elevator bank, twin staircases curving around it. The group took one lift to Deck 16. ‘If you’ll come this way, I’ll show you the bridge,’ he said, emerging on a broad landing.

  Macy bustled to the front of the pack. ‘Wow, cool! Can I drive the ship?’

  ‘We will see,’ the Emir told her, smiling.

  Snowcock brought them to an anonymous metal door, holding up a card on a lanyard around his neck to a rectangular panel of black glass beside it. It was a screen, a green circle appearing as the ship’s security systems confirmed his ID. He opened the door and ushered them through.

  A short passage led into the Atlantia’s spacious bridge. It ran the liner’s full width, doors leading to the wing bridges that extended out over the water far below. The entire front wall was glazed, floor-to-ceiling windows raking backwards to match the streamlined slope of the ship’s forward superstructure. The exception was at the centreline, where the glass tilted forwards around a pulpit-like extension housing a small wheel. Large sections of the softly lit room’s rear wall were taken up by video screens displaying live feeds from the ship’s numerous CCTV cameras.

  ‘Very futuristic,’ said Olivia, impressed.

  ‘Like being on the Starship Enterprise,’ Eddie agreed. ‘You must have to shout if you want to talk to someone on the far side, though.’

  ‘We get by,’ Snowcock told him with a chuckle. He greeted the other officers present, who had all straightened respectfully at the Emir’s arrival. ‘So, welcome to the Atlantia’s bridge,’ he told his guests. ‘We can control every aspect of the ship’s operations from here with just five bridge crew – although,’ he gestured at his eight officers, ‘we usually have more on duty for safety. With so many people aboard, there’s a lot to keep an eye on.’

  ‘Suppose you’ve got to watch out for hackers trying to crash you into oil tankers too,’ said Eddie. Snowcock gave him a bemused, slightly concerned look. ‘Like in S
peed 2?’ The look intensified.

  ‘I told you, nobody remembers Speed 2,’ Nina sighed. ‘You’ll have to forgive my husband. His cultural references are about twenty-five years out of date.’

  ‘Tchah.’ Eddie walked to the front of the bridge. Macy joined him. The purpose of the glazed pulpit immediately became apparent; the windows’ rearward rake made it difficult for anyone to get a clear view down at the bow without hitting their head on the sloping glass. ‘So you can drive the whole ship with this little wheel?’

  ‘Here, or from either of the wing bridges,’ Snowcock told him. ‘But that wheel’s really only used for slow manoeuvres in port. We normally use the azipod controls.’

  ‘What are they?’ Macy asked.

  ‘Come and see,’ said the Emir, going to a large central console. She hurried around it, Nina joining her.

  ‘The Atlantia doesn’t have traditional propellers or rudders,’ Snowcock explained, pointing to a trio of black spherical controls on squat joysticks, chromed throttle levers curling over them. ‘It has three azipods – electrically powered thrusters that can rotate three hundred and sixty degrees. By turning them in different directions, we can literally spin the ship around in its own length. We won’t try that right now, though,’ he added with another chuckle. ‘At this speed, it would send everyone flying.’

  Macy nodded, resisting the temptation to twist one of the controls. ‘How fast can the ship go?’ she asked instead.

  The captain glanced at a digital display. ‘We’re currently doing twenty-two knots. That’s twenty-five miles per hour. Our full cruising speed is twenty-five knots – about twenty-nine m.p.h.’

  A sly smile crept across Fadil’s face. ‘But we can go faster,’ he whispered to Macy. ‘Would you like to see?’

  She grinned. ‘Yeah!’

  ‘Then watch this.’ He reached for a black glass panel amongst the controls, then hesitated as Macy struggled to peer over the helm console’s edge. ‘Dr Wilde, could you pick her up so she can see?’