I felt sure the Luger was Pirow's, though it was Walter who pointed it at my chest. Pirow was on his knees at my chartcase. Upton's eyes were bright and hard, as if he had been on the guarana.
I talked quickly to distract Walter, so that Sailhardy could jump him. " So Norris sounded the Bollevika anchorage?" I sneered. " Breeding-ground of the Blue Whale-bah A Blue Whale's dorsal fin!"
I sensed Sailhardy start to move. I threw myself sideways at Walter. The crash of the shot deafened me. I struck him a wicked blow in the kidneys. He gasped, but he was strong and cunning. He dodged to prevent my crowding him, and fired again as Sailhardy grabbed at his hand. The bullet screamed off the steel wall. Walter ducked, picked up a heavy lead sinker I had used for my plankton net, and swung it with a sickening thump against the islander's heart. Sailhardy collapsed. While the big Norwegian turned to come at me with a running crouch, Luger in one hand and sinker in the other, I struck him with all my force under the right ear with my forearm. I heard the gun clatter, but at the same time my feet were whipped from under me. Pirow-the bastard, I thought. As I fell, Walter caught me a glancing blow across the left side of my face with the sinker. I lay on the floor, sick with the pain. Pirow grabbed the gun. I saw Walter's sea-boot come up to kick me unconscious, but I had no strength to roll clear. Upton stopped him.
" Steady, Peter," he ordered. " We need him."
" I do not care for this British captain who fights foul like a South Georgia whalerman," he said thickly, rubbing his neck. " Nor his bloody islander. Let me finish both of them we'll find the chart on one of them, for sure."
" He seems to know anyway," said Pirow. He kept the Luger on me.
" Get up, Wetherby," snapped Upton. It was the first time he had not used my Christian name. " Go over him, Peter. And if he hasn't got it, then the islander."
Walter's paws tore at my clothes, while Pirow covered me with the Luger. When he had finished searching me, Walter turned over the unconscious Sailhardy roughly and searched him.
" It's not on them," he said. " It's here somewhere-it must be."Upton grasped the lapels of my reefer jacket. There was a curious air of exhilaration and menace about him. Although the name had never been mentioned between us in relation to the chart, each knew tacitly what the other had in mind. " Where is Captain Norris' chart? Where is it, man?"
I jerked my head at the chart-case. " In there."
" It is not-I've been through everything," interrupted Pirow. " He's lying."
" Of course he's lying," snapping Upton. " I would too, if I had anything as priceless as Captain Norris' original log and chart of Thompson Island."
" Thompson Island!" I exclaimed. " There you have it!
Thompson Island!"
The formidable pink flush suffused the pewter. I was weak from Walter's blow, but even so I was surprised at Upton's outburst of near-mania strength. He shook me like a rat." Yes, blast all the Wetherbys and their secretive Captain Norris!" he snarled. " Eight words for everything in my life
– the log and track chart of the Sprightly 1 Norris, rot his 86 soul! He faked up-or your precious John Wetherby faked up-a duplicate for the Admiralty's benefit. It's useless, as everybody knows. What I want is Norris' original. You've got it and, by God, I mean to have it. At any price whatsoever, do you understand? Any price whatsoever!" My mind raced to the chart. I knew every minute detail of it. There was nothing of any value to a man like Upton. He must have some other knowledge about Thompson Island, apart from the chart, but to which the chart was nevertheless complementary. I had to find out what it was.
" I'll take this ship apart rivet by rivet to find the chart," Upton went on savagely. I believed him. He rounded on me. " Will you take me to Thompson Island?"
I evaded a direct answer. " How should I know where
Thompson is?"
" You've got Norris' chart, and that shows the true position of Thompson Island."
I saw the fallacy of what Upton was saying. What I and I alone knew was that Captain Norris' chart was priceless up to a point. Beyond that point the centuries-old secret of the lost island was one man's only-mine. Kohler must have known, too; Pirow obviously did not.
" Will you take me to Thompson, according to the chart?" Upton rasped. Even Walter stood back at Upton's anger.
No.,,
" No?" he replied. " We'll see. Walter! The islander. You know what to do."
Walter's sea-boot crunched into Sailhardy's face. Pirow stood grinning. Walter raised his boot to kick again. Norris' chart-without me-wasn't worth risking Sailhardy's life. It was obvious that Upton considered Sailhardy expendable.
" Stop!" I shouted. " Stop!"
" Where is it?" demanded Upton.
" Walter," I said softly. " Never let me find you alone, particularly if I have a fiensing knife in my hand. Remember that!
" The big skipper looked uneasy, but Upton seemed beside himself. I thought I still might find out what he knew, that I did not, about Thompson Island.
" I'll take you to where the chart says, providing you tell me what you are looking for on Thompson Island," I said. " We could do a deal." I knew in advance what his share would be from a bargain like that-square miles of open sea. He'd receive the same share, if he trusted to the chart by him87 self, without me. I thought wryly to myself, I was somewhat in the same position as old John Wetherby after Norris' original discovery had started the world talking, except that in my case it was my life and Sailhardy's that were at stake. John Wetherby had faked a chart when the Admiralty had insisted; he had kept back his superior knowledge by virtue of Norris' original. Now in my mind-it was not written down
– was the knowledge which superseded the information of the Norris chart. I could afford to let Upton have the original chart. He had obviously seen the fake at the Admiralty.
" No deal," snapped Upton. " On lesser matters, maybe, but not on this. Think quickly! Walter has an educated boot, and what is one bloody Tristan islander more or less?" I played for time. " Or one Bruce Wetherby more or less?"
Upton gave a brittle laugh. " In principle, yes. In practice, it is harder to get rid of a Royal Society man than an unknown islander."
Walter grinned. " All sorts of accidents happen on factory ships, with all the machinery and knives. Strange things." He glanced at Sailhardy's battered face. " Who would know whether it was a boot or a falling tackle block which smashed in his face?"
" If it's a question of disposing of one body or two…" I began.
" Shut up I" Upton snarled. "Don't talk round it. It's the chart or…" He gestured at the unconscious form on the floor.
" It is in the helicopter cabin," I said. " It's tucked away behind the quilting near the pilot's seat."
" God help you if you're lying," he said. " Walter, get up to the machine-quick! Bring it here!"
Upton and Pirow both drew back to the doorway as Walter left. Pirow kept the Luger trained on me. I felt like a battered bull whale after a deep-sea duel.
" So the whole business of the Blue Whale was a bluff?" I asked slowly.
Upton had regained some of his composure. " Not entirely. Not entirely."
" Then why the hell drag along four catchers-you wanted five-to look for Thompson Island? It's beyond me."
What quality of doom did Thompson hold? John Wetherby had died mouthing the name; Norris and his famous Sprightly 88 had gone to their eventual deaths in the wastes round Thompson after returning, following the first discovery, when and where, no one knew; Joseph Fuller had been drowned at his Stonington lighthouse; Francis Allen had been lost in the ice with the ship bearing his name. Now Thompson was driving to near-mania and murder a whaling tycoon who could apparently reap no benefit from its rediscovery. And why was it so valuable that Upton would allow nothing to stand in the way?
" The Blue Whale story was ideal cover," he explained. " I had to have a string of ships-you remember Nelson's frigates before Trafalgar? The catchers were to serve the same purpose in scouring the waters round Bouvet for Thompson. They were to be my eyes. That was before I knew you had the chart."
" If Nelson had had a helicopter, he would not have needed a string of frigates," I replied.
He grinned. " Touche. But I have read Kohler's weather study of Bouvet. If it's not blowing a bloody gale, it's fog; and if it's not fog, it's total cloud; and if it's not total cloud, it's an impossible sea. An American coastguard cutter flew a helicopter near Bouvet a couple of years ago. They damn near lost it, after only half an hour in the air. I don't have to tell you about Bouvet's weather."
" If you didn't know I had Norris' chart, why bring me into it?"
" Not even I could wheedle out of the Admiralty your secret report on the sinking of the Meteor," he said. " But I know that you sighted land as you went into action. Once
I knew you had the chart, that naturally became redundant.
The two things are the same."
I averted my eyes so as not to give myself away. Let him go on thinking they were the same! He'd never find Thompson Island his way. If he went on regarding Sailhardy and me as expendable, my knowledge might well buy our lives.
The door burst open. Walter and Helen tried to push through at the same time. Walter held the folded chart triumphantly. His right hand was smeared with blood.
Helen gave a gasp as she saw Sailhardy on the floor. She looked in disbelief at Pirow and the gun, and at me. Her face was flushed with anger.
" Daddy, what on earth…?" She indicated Walter, 89 speaking rapidly. " What right has this lout to break into my cabin, and tear down the fittings like a madman? It is my machine, and what I say goes. He grabbed the quilting and tore it to pieces… Bruce, Bruce! He killed Suzie Wong!"
" You bastard, Walter!" I said.
" Who the hell is Suzie Wong?" demanded Upton.
" My good-luck bird-this oaf killed her!" she repeated. " What right has he…"
" I wrung the bloody thing's neck," said Walter: " It is unimportant. It flies at me when I look for the chart." Upton did not seem to hear her. He stood, mesmerised by the parchment Walter held in his hand. " Get out!" he told her roughly. " Get out! One miserable bird does not matter. Nor would a life-for this!" He took the chart from Walter. " Get out!" he said. " If you want to cool off and mourn your bloody bird, go and fly your precious helicopter in circles."
Helen stook back, stunned by his outburst. His megalomania sickened me. She backed to the door. " Yes, that is just what I will do," she said in quiet anger. " I don't know what you all are up to, but remember I have seen this little scene, even if no one else of the crew has."
She shut the door, but I do not think Upton even noticed.
In less than a minute I heard the machine take off. Upton unfolded the chart. Then he stabbed his finger again and again at a little circle from which the wandering line of the Sprightly's track radiated. " Thompson Island! Thompson Island!"
He turned on me. The fury was gone, and the eyes seemed even brighter. He could not control his hands. He pointed at the corner of the parchment, where there was a marginal note. " November-December 1825. The log and track of the Sprightly!" he whispered. "Thompson Island!" Pirow edged round, keeping the automatic trained on me. " There's Bouvet, too. There are Norris' soundings of the Bollevika anchorage."
Upton could scarcely get the words out as he fumbled to decipher Norris' writing. " December the thirteenth, 1825. Log of the Sprightly:
" 2 p.m. saw a small low Island bear W 6 miles. 3 rocks in a cluster bear NW, another rock NW nearly level with the water's edge. This island is in Lat 53.56 Long 90
5°30. this island we have named Thompson's la bears NNE 15 leagues from Bouvet Island. Three rocks we named The Chinnies SE 4 or 5 miles off Thompson's la and another small rock 3 miles south of them…" Upton was silent for a long time. " So that is where Thompson Island is!" he exclaimed at last. " Fifteen leagues, or forty-five miles, north-north-east of Bouvet!"
For the next half-hour Upton relapsed into long abstracted silences as if he had forgotten the presence of the three of us altogether-silences broken now and again by a volley of words. It was then that I first seriously doubted the man's sanity. The only sounds were Sailhardy's unconscious moans. We dared not break in upon the silences.
Once Upton turned the parchment over and over. " God!
Imagine that little ship Sprightly of Norris' at two o'clock in the afternoon coming out of the fog and being confronted with the island! Now it is mine!" He fell into a long silence, as if he were reliving Norris' great discovery.
Then he came over to me, eyes bright, and grabbed me by the shoulder, completely carried away by what was going on in his own mind. " Tell me, man, does it look the way Norris says-small and low? How could it ever be confused with Bouvet, which is all cliffs and peaks? Did you see it like that? Tell me!"
"I saw it like that," I said. "I saw Thompson Island I am the only man living to have seen it."
He looked thoughtfully at me. " The only man living," he echoed.
I remember the ice, the dirty grey sky, the shroud of fog.
Upton's next words added to my doubts about his mind.
He traced with a finger, with almost reverential care, the old sealer's track past Thompson Island and its rocky outcrops. "Heavenly blue," he said. " Heavenly blue." The Tannoy loudspeaker above my bunk came alive with its disembodied crackle. " Bridge here! Bridge here! Sir Frederick Upton! Stand by for a repeat from radio office of an urgent message." Upton had been thorough. He'd told the bridge he would be in my cabin before leaving, so that he would not be out of touch while he searched my things.
Something inside me cleared like a lift of fog when I heard Helen's voice, for it told me she had had no part in her father's scheme for Thompson Island. She came over the loudspeaker clearly, which meant she must have been fairly close to the fleet, in view of the radio interference at any distance.
" H for Helen! Do you hear me? H for Helen! Helicopter NRWH calling factory ship Antarctica."
Upton wheeled on Pirow. " Get up to the radio office jam her, swamp her, do any damn thing, but get her off the air-quick!"
I felt somehow that the normal overtones in her voice were for me-the way she might think Royal Navy formality ran under stress. But her excitement overrode everything. " H for Helen! Position approx fifty-six degrees South, one degree West."
Pirow stopped in his tracks, white-faced. "Plain language transmission! Thorshammer can't miss it!"
" Dear God in Heaven!" shouted Upton. " Stop her, Carl!
Perhaps the radio interference is too bad for Thorshammer to hear.
…"
" No," snapped Pirow. " Never. Some temporary sunspot fade, but nothing like as bad as I made out to the Herr Kapitan to get him off the ship."
" Bouvet's dead spot…" began Upton.
" Dead spot for equipment thirty years ago, but not now," Pirow replied.
Helen's voice cut in. "I can't see the end of them! There are thousands and thousands of them! There are Blue Whales everywhere! I have found the breeding-ground of the Blue Whale!. Big, small, bulls, cows, calves! I've never seen any- thing like it!"
" Blast the girl!" roared Upton. "Blast! blast! blast! Just at this moment of moments! Everyone between here and South Georgia must have heard our position-including
Thorshammer."
Pirow stood as if undecided, the Luger in his hand. Helen's bombshell had put them off their guard, but I missed my opportunity.
" Give me that gun!" went on Upton. " Get to your radio! Do something!" Pirow hurried off, but Upton and Walter remained behind. " They'll be safe enough if we lock them in here for the moment," said Upton. " How long will it be before that bloody islander comes round?"
" An hour, maybe two," shrugged Walter. " What does it matter anyway?"
" Yes," echoed Upton. " What does it matter, anyway? 92
It's Wetherby who is the problem." He smiled without humour. " I thought I was up against something in the great Captain Wetherby of war-time fame. I didn't even get a run for my money. One kick in the face of his friend, and the whole show was over. Come, Peter!"
The door crashed to and I heard the lock turn. I knelt down and tried to do something about Sailhardy's face. It was a savage wound, and he would carry the scars to the end of his life. The way Upton talked, he did not intend either Sailhardy' s life or mine to reach its natural span. I looked round the cabin, but escape seemed hopeless. My cabin was situated at the end of the corridor. Beyond the solid steel bulkhead were the big compartments for processing the whales. The porthole was there, but short of jumping into the sea, it offered no escape for me.
My own danger was not uppermost in my mind. I was thinking of Helen, and I hated Upton for his part in moulding her, fashioning her whole existence, to be the instrument of his dream, Thompson Island. It was typical of the man that he had not confided his secret to her, but in the shock of her own escape long ago in Norway, the lack of a mother had so influenced her-not unwillingly, I told myself, but that was her part of the story, unknown to him-to be the brilliant but oulless automaton I had first met. I could not get out of my mind the transformation I had witnessed on the ice, and the vital, attractive personality I had seen as she had stood in this very cabin doorway.
SaiIhardy stirred, but did not regain consciousness. I tore off part of my sleeve and made an improvised bandage. I waited. After about half an hour I heard the roar of the helicopter's rotors overhead, as Helen came in to land. In less than five minutes there was a knock at the cabin door. I did not reply.
" Bruce!" Helen called. " Bruce! Are you all right?"
" Yes," I called. " Helen! For God's sake, get me a gun or a knife, and let me out of here!"
" My father seems beside himself," she called softly. "I gave him the slip for a moment." I heard the sound of her footsteps running back along the corridor.
I nearly jumped out of my skin as the Tannoy spoke. "
AXM. Canberra International Antarctic Weather Analysis Centre. WMO code Fm forty-five on the zero zero GMT analysis…"
I looked in astonishment at the grilled space above the bulkhead. Upton and Pirow must have forgotten to switch off the repeater from the radio shack.
Then I heard Upton's voice. " Nothing but bloody weather reports! That's all there ever is from the Antarctic!" Pirow's voice, intent, came through. " I told you, let a ship send eleven letters, and I'll find her. Thorshammer. is silent."
" It doesn't surprise me," I heard Walter say. " Christ!
After all we've done to keep our position dark."
Upton was rattled. His voice was harsh with anxiety. " Try and get Thorshammer, Carl! Change frequency, do any damn thing!"
" The Herr Kapitan Wetherby should be here," came Pirow's cool voice. " We'll try eighteen and twenty-four metres raider's frequency."
There was a pause. Then Upton's voice broke in. " What is it, Carl? Have you got her?"
" Thorshammer," replied Pirow. " She's flown off the seaplane!" I heard the crash of a telephone receiver being picked up. " Bjerko!" snapped Upton. " Alter course! Turn away, south and west! Full speed ahead!" I felt the pulse of the factory ship start to quicken under the cabin floor.
" That won't help at all," said Pirow. " The seaplane will be using radar, anyway. Thorshammer took a hell of a risk flying her off in this sea."
" It just shows how important she considers us," said Walter. " There's nothing we can do now to avoid being caught."
" Don't throw in the bloody towel before you're even hit," said Upton curtly. " I'm not beaten, by a long chalk. By all that's holy!" I heard him say slowly. " Wetherby has been of more use than he thinks. We'll keep our previous course. We'll hide away in the heart of his so-called atmospheric machine. If it's anything like he says, there'll be so -much fog and ice that Thorshammer will never find us. And in that weather, she won't be able to use her seaplane."
My heart sank as I heard him pick up the telephone and order Bjerko to return to our former course. The ship had scarcely had time to settle on the south and west course. We were now racing towards our doom as fast as the screws could turn. By the vibration, I could tell that the Antarctica's engines were being pushed to the limit. In my mind's eye I saw that deceptively calm sea, damped by the ice as the crystals formed, and thickening to a viscous-porridge-like consistency; the loss of speed as a ship fought against the massive drag of the sea starting to freeze; the great bank of fog which was the invariable accompaniment of the freeze-up; and finally, the rapid coagulation of water into jaws of ice which would clamp like a vice round the ship and crush her to death.
" Anything from the seaplane?" asked Upton.
" Yes," said Pirow, " steering straight here. She can't miss. She'll be overhead in less than a couple of hours."
" Peter!" came Upton's voice. " When do you think, at our present speed, we will be in Wetherby's danger area?"
" Maybe twelve hours," replied.
" We could avoid Thorshammer intercepting us herself to-day, and during the darkness to-night we could dodge her," went on Upton. " By early to-morrow the weather will probably start to become pretty bad. With Thorshammer minus the seaplane, we have a sporting chance."
" Minus the seaplane," echoed Pirow.
Upton's voice was brittle when he spoke after a pause, even allowing for the quality of the loudspeaker. " Your Spandau-Hotchkiss is a very fine weapon, Peter."
Pirow's voice held a thrill-whether of dismay or astonishment, I could not tell. " You'll get Walter to shoot down a plane-a naval plane-in cold blood in peacetime?"
I could tell from the way Upton said it, that he had just thought it up, and novelty of the idea appealed to him. " No, not Walter, Captain Wetherby will shoat down Thors- hammer's seaplane."
I went closer to the loudspeaker grille to make sure I was not dreaming. It was a closed-circuit affair between the cabin and the radio office, but the voices were as close as if they had been talking next door and reaching me through an open ventilator. The diabolical ingenuity of Upton's mind revealed itself as he went on.
" We now have the chart, and both Wetherby and the islander are only in the way," he said. " Sailhardy is easy to dispose of. Walter will rough him up a bit more, and he'll be found to-morrow morning, or the morning after, lying under one of the big tackles aft. Poor fellow, they'll say, the tackle came adrift in the gale and its whole two tons fell on him."
Walter interjected, " Someone else will have to do the 95 job, specially since it'll be at night. I can't shuffle backwards and forwards from Aurora in a small boat with a tiny engine in these seas. It was bad enough to-day. If the weather becomes anything like Wetherby says, it'll be impossible."
" It is not vital," said Upton. " I'll smash him up myself."
" The Herr Kapitan Wetherby is the one to be afraid of," said Pirow. I wondered wryly if he was thinking of the Meteor's end. " I want to see you force him to shoot down Thorshammer's plane."
" So do I," said Walter.
The voices receded and I jumped up and jammed my ear against the loudspeaker. I heard only a word here and there-" Luger… take him across to Aurora… clear them out of the way, of course, they're your crew, Walter.. . lash his wrists, one each side of the trigger…" Upton's voice and the others sank into an incomprehensible mutter.
What in God's name was Upton about, I asked myself. It was obvious from the scraps of conversation I had heard that I was to be tied to the Spandau-Hotchkiss and be made to take the blame for shooting down the seaplane. How? Then I saw: Walter would take one harness and I would be lashed into the other-it must have been the crew Upton had been referring to, about clearing them out of the way. In the sort of seas we were encountering, the only members of the crew who would be about would be those strictly on duty, a handful of men who could easily be ordered out of the way. The gun itself was situated aft the wheelhouse, and the helmsman would not be able to see what was going on without leaving his post. I guessed Walter would come to take me across to Aurora from my cabin. He'd stick the Luger in his pocket and be at my back…
The voice became stronger as the three men moved about the radio office. I could pick up Upton's words, faint at first and then stronger. "… other harness. Wetherby will be helpless. Shoot the bloody thing down and don't fluff it, do you hear, Walter?"
There was a surly mutter and then Pirow's voice was clear. " It is clever, Sir Frederick. So Wetherby takes all the blame, if Thorshammer should catch us?"
I lost the end of Upton's sentence, but the beginning sent me cold. " The blame-and the bullet… through the head with the Luger… cut him loose…"
I could see it in my mind's eye: a burst from the SpandauHotchkiss from Walter which would send the seaplane 96 into the sea. A bullet for me and then a fake rescue attempt, Walter shouting to the helmsman to alter course to the crashed plane, knowing full well that the cold water would kill them in three minutes. And then Walter explaining how he had been obliged to shoot me to stop my madness with the gun. The pieces fitted together with diabolical cunning.
The voices became so faint I had to strain to hear.
" What about the other skippers?" asked Pirow. " They won't like it. They may turn against you."
"Turn-to whom?" asked Upton confidently. "Thors- hammer? Don't be crazy. Can you see them simply handing themselves over to Thorshammer? Never! They're in this thing too deep already, and they'll be deeper in still after the seaplane has been shot down." I heard a mirthless chuckle. " If you miss the seaplane, Peter, I'll come after you with a Luger myself."
I looked at the unconscious man on the floor. Sailhardy and I had been in some tight spots during the war, but this looked tougher than any of them: I could see only one way to save our. lives, and that was to tell Upton the real secret of Thompson Island. The bargain would be purely one-sided, for Upton would certainly never tell me now what he was really after on Thompson Island. It would be a plain barter for our lives, with Upton raking in all the winnings. The Tannoy repeated the slam of the radio office door, after the crunch of footsteps. It remained alive, but silent, except for an occasional splutter of Morse. Pirow must have been left alone on watch. An hour dragged by, and then another half. Sailhardy moaned and stirred from time to time, but did not come round. A kick like Walter's would have killed anyone less tough than the islander. My only ally outside the cabin seemed to be Helen. Would she, though, having been so long under her father's sway, assist me, even if she wanted to? I strained every sense to hear her footsteps outside, but everything remained silent.
Another five minutes dragged by. The Tannoy broke into life. I heard a door open, and almost at the same moment Upton's voice. " Yes, Carl, yes?"
I could not help admiring the brilliant, dispassionate professionalism of The Man with the Immaculate Hand. " Seaplane reporting ship contacts to Thorshammer. Five ship contacts on her radar."
" She's picked up the fleet," breathed Upton. " She's picked us up!"
Pirow's voice was impersonal. " No sighting reports. Only radar contacts." He spoke slowly, telling me he was reading back the seaplane's signals to the destroyer as she came in t o w a r d s o u r f l e e t. " R a d a r c o n t a c t f i v e s h i p s t w o z e r o zero degrees. Surface wind forty-four knots." There was a pause. Then he resumed. "Preparing to orbit fleet as soon as 1 make visual sighting. Will run in and turn on target. Roger?" A tinge of irony crept into Pirow's voice. "Thorshammer replies, Roger. Signal fleet's position and course." I tensed as I heard Upton's words. " Peter," he said. " Fetch Wetherby and get over to Aurora. You know what to do. You're sure you will be O.K. in the boat by yourself?"
" I'm O.K.," I heard Walter grunt. " Have someone start the engine while I collect Wetherby. I have one hand on the tiller and other on the Luger, heh?"
" Good man," replied Upton.
I heard the heavy clump of Walter's sea-boots as he left the radio office to come down to my cabin. The weakest link in Upton's disposal plan for me seemed to be the time I would be alone in the boat with Walter crossing to Aurora. He would be fully on the alert, but he would not know I had overheard them. I told myself I must also get out of the cabin as quickly as I could before Walter realised the Tannoy was switched on. I prayed that neither Upton nor 'Pirow would speak while Walter was in the cabin.
The door swung open. The Luger looked like a plaything in his massive fist. " Come!" he said. " I want no tricks from you, you Royal Navy bastard!"
He started to move towards Sailhardy, but he backed as I walked quickly to the entrance. " You swine," I replied. " I think you've killed him."
"Good," he replied. " Then there is no need to look closer." He shut the door. The Tannoy had kept silent. I walked away from the cabin door, and then stopped in the long corridor. I faced Walter.
" Up on deck," he snarled. " No tricks! I am an excitable man with a gun. We go to my ship now."
" Not until I have spoken to Sir Frederick Upton," I said.
" No!" he retorted.
I learned against the steel wall. I knew their plan. They could not dispose of me down here. " If you're so keen to get me to your ship, hammer me unconscious like Sailhardy," I sneered. " Go ahead."
Walter looked nonplussed. " If it was me, I would shoot you here," he blustered. " Why must you see Sir Frederick?"
" Go and jump over the side," I said. " Either I see Sir Frederick, or I stay here."
" O.K.," he conceded after a pause. " We go to the companionway there, where there's a telephone. No speaking on deck. You can tell Sir Frederick what you want to say." There was an emergency telephone by the companionway leading up to the main deck. I rang the bridge and asked for Sir Frederick Upton. His voice came back, vibrant, full of good humour. I cut short his bonbomie. " Listen, Upton," I said. " I've been thinking over this Thompson Island business."
Upton's voice went cold. " No whining, Wetherby. You played-damn badly, I might say-and lost. The chart is mine. It stays so."
" That chart is not nearly as valuable as you seem to think," I started to say. " I assure you you won't find Thompson Island in the position on the chart. The key is missing. I alone know where Thompson Island is. I'll take you there in exchange for an unconditional safe-conduct back to Cape Town for Sailhardy and myself, unharmed, and with the run of the ship."
Upton laughed so loud I had to keep the phone away from my ear. " It is really incredible," he said. " First, my daughter become starry-eyed because the great Captain Wetherby makes her land on an ice-floe. God alone knows why, but it is so. What sort of line you shot, I wouldn't know. Then you yourself come along with a cock-and-bull story about the chart being wrong and you being the only person who knows where Thompson is situated. Balderdash!"
" I'll go further," I said. " Let us take the fleet to where the chart says Thompson is. If it is there, you can turn me over to Thorshammer and I'll take the rap for all this business. If not, then …"
Upton gave his answer, characteristically. The receiver at the other end was slammed down.
Walter gestured with the Luger. " Up, on deck! Quick!
There's not much time. We go to Aurora."
I had no option. I walked ahead of him. Once we had reached the deck, he kept close behind me, the Luger hidden out of sight in his jacket pocket. Once I caught a sideways glimpse of the half-shaven face: I could see that Walter was all set for his killing orgy, for he was grinning slightly and the face was alive with a kind of sadistic joy. He would not need any excuse to kill me.
Aurora's boat hung in the davits, engine running. Walter m o t i o n e d m e a h e a d m o c k i n g l y. " A f t e r y o u, C a p t a i n Wetherby." Two stolid Norwegian sailors were at the boatfalls. There was nothing to do but obey. I climbed aboard, and the two sailors dropped the boat skilfully into the sea. Walter threw in the gear with one hand, keeping the other on the concealed Luger. As we gathered way, he held the tiller and the Luger as I had overheard him tell Upton he would.
The tiny craft bucked in the swell. To throw myself at Walter would have meant upsetting the boat and drowning both of us. Aurora had lost way and I saw the measure of Walter's seamanship as he brought the tiny boat alongside the low bulwarks of the catcher.
" Jump, Captain!" grinned Walter. " Jump for your Mel I' ll be right behind you!"
I jumped as we swung level with the bulwarks, coming down heavily on the deck. Walter had judged it to a nicety. He did not even wait for the next wave. He too jumped, rope in hand, while two of his crew secured the boat. Despite his bulk, he was on his feet as agilely as a cat.
He grinned again and stripped off his jacket, thrusting the Luger into his trousers pocket. Under the thick black woollen sweater his chest seemed more massive than before.
He shouted something in Norwegian to the two men on deck, who disappeared below.
" You are a fighting man, Captain," he leered. " Now you see my own special ack-ack gun in action, heh? You even sit in one of its harness." He laughed again. I said nothing. His face went heavy with anger. " All right, you Royal Navy bastard! Get up there ahead of me!"
As I started to go up the bridge ladder, Walter snarled something at the first mate, who also went below. Above decks, the only person visible was the helmsman, and the lookout in the crow's nest. Walter bellowed at him, too. I glanced upwards at the lookout. I saw a tiny flash of silver in the sky, far out to port. Walter saw it too.
Walter half thrust me up the last few rungs on the steel ladder leading from the bridge to the gun platform. At the top, out of the helmsman's sight, he pulled out the Luger. The brutal face was tense. " Into the Hotchkiss harness quick! We haven't much time!" He grabbed me by the neck of my jacket with his left hand and savagely rammed the harness down over my head and shoulders. Once I was in its strait-jacket grip, he came round and deftly threw a loop of rope round the trigger guard, but not about the swivel bar, leaving my arms at half stretch to the trigger, with my face hard up against the sight.
Walter pushed the Luger loosely into his waistband and slipped quickly into the harness of the Spandau. He swung the double weapon round, taking me with it. I could see the seaplane passing over the outermost ship of the fleet, the Crozet, still fully five miles away from the factory ship. The Hotchkiss' long metal sight was at full extension above the cooling ribs in the middle of the weapon. Walter's right eye was screwed up against the rubber-mounted sight at the rear of the Spandau, and I could see the line of his teeth as he kept his left eye firmly closed. Our faces were only nine inches apart. His breath was foul with stale Schnapps. His right hand was on the trigger beneath the long curve of the Narwhal tusks.
The seaplane started to make a long dive towards-the factory ship. It came into my sights. Although I was expecting it, the heavy 400-round-a-minute burst of the Spandau took my breath away. Cordite fumes blew back. The two weapons were beautifully synchronised, and as Walter swung the Spandau to keep his sights on the seaplane, so mine held steady on it.
I saw my chance.
If I too joined in the firing, using my left hand to pull the Hotchkiss' trigger, I could not help having my right wrist hard up against the spent cartridge ejectment outlet. The Hotchkiss fires fourteen hundred rounds a minute. Thought and action came simultaneously. I pulled the trigger, pushing my right wrist against the outlet. The searing blast of whitehot gas snapped the rope. I yelled with pain as it scorched my wrist. At the same moment I threw full weight against the harness to drag the double weapon down. A double stream of tracer-lighted lead arced through the sky, wide of the seaplane. I cut my fire, jamming my left knee against the centre metal support of the gun to win control from Walter. The tracers flew wide of the plane in a golden orbit. Using all his strength, Walter swung the double weapon back round against my hold, sighting on the aircraft. The heavy bullets from the Spandau tore into its flimsy fuselage. The machine fluttered down towards Aurora, yawed wildly, passed almost between the big gantries of the factory ship, and fell into the sea beyond. The splash looked like the combined spout of a family of Blue Whales.
My hands were already at Walter's throat as he fought to get clear of his harness. I kicked his feet from under him as he fumbled. I was still held in the strait-jacket grip of the Hotchkiss harness. Walter fell, rolled, dragged himself on one elbow, pulling the Luger from his waistband. He raised the automatic to fire.
I swivelled the twin interlocked muzzles to their maximum depression, fixed on Walter. Stark terror leapt into his face. I fired. The spray of bullets ripped into the deck plating, turning everything into a blinding hell of red-hot ricochets and noise.
Walter was too close. Even at maximum depression, the guns, although firing straight at him, could not reach down far enough. The stream of bullets was passing over him, the deck was shredded, but Walter was unharmed. He launched himself forward under the swath of death, grabbed the silent Spandau by the chain which runs from its watercooler backwards, and swung the double weapon backwards so that the barrels pointed wildly skywards. I hung, off my feet, above the gut platform, looking at the Antarctica. The helicopter was rising from the flensing platform. I shouted insanely, impotently, at Helen. Walter raised the Luger and fired. Terror struck through me at what I saw below me.
It was the sea. It had turned to honey. I knew what it meant.