The Golden Mast, page 12
Dayita sighed. “If only we could go back and do it right this time.”
Kaikoa stood taller. “Took matters into their own hands, the Tumalans did, and built a new nation. They had a few ragtag boats already and salvaged more.”
I blurted without thinking, “Stole them you mean.”
Kaikoa glanced at me, his beady eyes cold. “We had the need so we did the deed.”
Was he reciting a mantra?
“No one would help the Tumalans, and they were desperate. Anyways, they lashed the boats together and created this floating city state. Been growing ever since, nearly seventy years.”
“It’s quite a sight.”
Kaikoa puffed out his scrawny chest. “That it is. We live in circles. The outer circle being for farmlands, then the section where we make most everything we need. Inside the circle, we’ve got the living ring and the recreation circle. And right smack dab in the center, we built a park. We call it Central Park.” He bounced on his heels, a smug expression on his craggy face.
Belani pointed to a waterway running in between two cargo ships. “What’s that, Mr. Kaikoa?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Canals. We left enough space in between some of the boats for waterways. Easier travelling from one place to another on water if there’s no slider tube nearby.”
Slider tubes. Must be the see-through tubes linking some of the boats. “How deep are the canals?”
He hesitated again. “Deep as the ocean, sonny.”
“So the bridges and tubes connect the boats?”
“We’ve got reinforcing girders below ground, too.”
Something about Kaikoa’s tone … what wasn’t he telling us? “It must take hard work keeping this place running smoothly.”
Kaikoa scratched his behind, and Belani giggled into K-bear’s fur.
“Everyone has a role in the city, none more important than the next. Equality for all.”
I couldn’t resist. The guy was too pompous. “So the worker who cleans up the garbage is as important as the leader?”
Kaikoa sighed and for once he was candid. “Nothing is perfect, young man, and we don’t claim to be, but we’re doing our best in these hard times.”
My face flushed hot. “I’m sorry, sir, please forgive my rudeness.”
Somewhat mollified, Kaikoa said, “The living ships are over this way. We have quarters for twenty thousand folks.”
Towering white buildings rose out of three gigantic ships. One of the ships was larger than the other two combined, and its buildings were not finished.
Kaikoa pointed to the mega ship. “That’s the Princess Ariel cruise ship. Our pride and glory.”
“She’s a beautiful ship.”
“Aye, came by that one a short time ago. We’re still constructing the apartments.”
I kept a neutral face.
“Renegades hijacked her, but none of them were sailors. Tumala came across the ship as it floundered close to some rocky islands. We chased away the hijackers and gave the passengers a choice—join us or be cast adrift. Most joined Tumala.”
I gulped. Was that what Kaikoa had in mind for us?
Dayita must have been thinking along the same lines. She changed the subject. “Do all Tumalans live here?”
Kaikoa nodded. “Some live below deck, others in the high rises.”
I craned my neck. “Must be twenty levels. Who lives at the top?”
He ignored my question. “We can’t build any higher without destabilizing the whole sector.” He ducked his head. “But I must admit, we’ve become a bit crowded.” Once again he glanced at Vedic’s mast, visible over the lowest deck.
Dayita shifted on her feet. I knew that look. She was ready to bolt. So was I.
Kaikoa must have sensed our unease. “Let’s hop the trolleys, and I’ll take you on a tour of the farming sector.”
We crowded onto the little trolley and away we went along narrow tracks, squealing and laughing as the cars careened around corners.
“I’m loving this ride!” Ali said.
The trolley jerked to a stop beside a massive field. Red and orange balls dangled from rows of trees, and ripe bananas hung heavy on banana trees. Our banana trees died off before I was born, but traders once brought the fruit to Maliku. My mouth watered at the memory of their taste.
“Whoa, what are those balls?” Ali said.
“Apples and oranges.”
Kaikoa picked a basket of apples from one of the trees and tossed them to us.
Ali sniffed his apple. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Eat it, you numbskull,” Hasan said around a mouthful.
Ali took a bite and pure pleasure gleamed in his eyes. “Never tasted anything so good.”
Kaikoa handed an apple to Emoni. “Here you go, little lady. Have a taste.”
Emoni hid her face, but she took a bite of the apple when Kaikoa backed away. The same look came over her face. “Um, good.”
Loki swooped in and landed on Emoni’s shoulder. He pecked at the apple. Emoni giggled and ate from one side, Loki from the other.
“Loki’s bringing Emoni back to us,” Belani whispered.
Ali finished his apple and grinned. “That’s the bestest food I’ve ever eaten.”
Kaikoa laughed. “You can eat one every day if you join us, lad.” He glanced at Dayita, a sly look on his face.
Dayita ignored the look, but not Fatima. Her greedy eyes flashed trouble.
“You feed everyone from these farms?” Dayita said.
“Aye.”
I held my tongue, but something smelled off. Why was Kaikoa so thin if they grew enough of their own food, and why did he have an air of desperation around him?
“You keep farm animals?” Dayita said.
Kaikoa pointed to a smaller boat tied next to the orchard. “The chicken coops.”
Belani wrinkled her nose, and K-bear rubbed his nose against her tunic. “Stinks.”
“Aye, but nothing better than fresh eggs in the morning. Except maybe bacon.” He nodded at two ramshackle buildings on a flat-topped ship. “Pig and sheep barns.”
Eye-watering fumes floated out of the pig barn long before we reached the entrance. We held our noses and giggled.
“Ew,” Ali said. “Even Hasan doesn’t stink that bad. Good thing we’re Muslim. We don’t eat pork.”
Kaikoa raised an eyebrow. “You kids be Muslims? Well, don’t that beat all.”
“Is that a problem?” I said.
Again, Kaikoa ignored my question. “Here’s the cow pasture.”
We gaped at the herd of black and white jersey cows grazing on thick grass, unaware of the stir they were causing.
“We get milk and cream from the cows and make butter and cheese, and then there’s the meat, of course.” He smacked his lips. “Nothing better than a juicy steak.”
How many steaks had this emaciated man ever eaten?
Ali sidled up to a smaller version of a cow. He jumped when the cow went, Moo-oo
An answering moo came from the other side of the pasture. A large cow stampeded across the pasture, her head down, horns aimed at Ali.
Kaikoa picked up Ali and swung him out of the cow’s path. “Keep getting into trouble, don’t you, young fella?”
Ali hung his head. “Ain’t meaning to.”
Kaikoa’s smile was too bright when he turned to us. “Last but not least, here’s the vegetable gardens. We eat a lot of greens.”
We groaned.
“Yuck,” Ali said.
At Kaikoa’s raised eyebrow, Belani explained. “We don’t like greens much, that’s all we ate after Maliku flooded.”
“Maliku, eh? Heard tell those islands weren’t long for the living.”
I had no intention of talking about Maliku with this guy.
“How do you keep Tumala going? The sails wouldn’t be enough,” Dayita said.
“Never did find a source of solar cells, but we lucked out and confiscated three abandoned tankers full of fuel about thirty years back. Still have some left, we don’t use much, rely on the sails mostly.”
“When the fuel runs out, then what?”
Kaikoa shrugged. “We’ll see, might become stationary. Been toying with the idea of putting down roots.” He frowned and looked away for a moment, then shrugged again. “Hey kids, how about some fun?”
Ali perked up. “What kind of fun?”
“How does sliding down a hundred-foot tube on a magic carpet or riding Dumbo the Elephant around in a circle sound to you? We’ll even throw in some strawberry cotton candy.”
None of them knew what Kaikoa was talking about, but they cheered anyway. “Yay!”
“All right, all right, settle down, you twerps,” Dayita said. She nodded at Belani and me. “You two are up, you won’t catch me on one of those things.”
Another fast ride on the trolley and we entered what Kaikoa called an amusement park. We gaped at a spindly Ferris wheel, lopsided tilt-a-whirls, and scramblers enough to jumble our brains and lose our lunch. I covered my ears and laughed at the jumble of music spewing out of all the rides and mixing together. K-bear whined and hid his face in Belani’s neck.
Delicious smells teased my nose, and my stomach growled.
“Help yourself to the popcorn, corn dogs, and candied apples,” Kaikoa said.
Ali and Musa headed for Dumbo the Elephant, licking their candied apples. Their shrieks and laughter rang across the island. Workers stopped their chores and smiled at the laughter.
Despite all the rides and the noise, the amusement park was eerily empty. “Where are the Tumalan kids? Why aren’t they playing out here?”
Kaikoa twitched and he avoided eye contact with me. “Eh? Oh, they’re around, doing stuff. Schooling maybe.”
He was lying, and I opened my mouth to question him, but Ali’s fussing interrupted me.
“Me! Me! I wanna turn! Come on Musa, get off the pink elephant, it’s my turn.”
Musa ignored him.
Belani laughed. “Ali, you’ve been on the elephant a dozen times already, why don’t you try the bumper cars?”
“Nah, I’m not into driving, I want to ride the pinky.”
Belani popped the last of the cotton candy into her mouth. “I’ll take you on the ferris wheel again.”
“Nope, it’s the merry-go-round or nothing,” Ali said. “And I don’t want a horsey, just the elephant.”
Belani glanced at me and shrugged, her eyes twinkling. The worry lines around her eyes had softened, and a wide smile lightened up her oval face. I reached for her hand.
Fatima stepped in front of Belani and glared at me, her piercing eyes narrowed. “You had your chance.”
K-bear hissed at Fatima, and she backed away.
“Ow!”
We all turned at a loud cry. Emoni limped over, a red gash on her knee. “Twirly-bird kept going, and my foot caught.”
Kaikoa frowned. “Don’t rightly know how to help you, missy.”
Dayita raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have a medic?”
He reddened. “Last one passed on a year ago. No one’s holding the know-how.”
Dayita waved for one of the crew following a short distance behind. “Take Emoni back to the ship and have Amar use some disinfectant on that cut.”
“You got disinfectant?” Kaikoa said. “And a doc?”
A look of pure envy passed over Kaikoa’s face, and my heart sank. He wasn’t going to let us go.
Ali and Hasan came toddling up holding their stomachs, their faces a green tinge.
Dayita frowned at them. “Too much cotton candy. Go with Emoni for some Epsom salts.” She checked the position of the sun. “On second thought, we’ll all go, it’s getting late.”
Kaikoa rocked on his heels. “Well now, that’s too bad, cuz we planned on sharing some old-fashioned Tumalan hospitality and offering you a good night’s rest.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Fatima jumped in and for once she made sense. “Dayita, our stores are running low. Perhaps we can trade with these good people. Besides, the ship rocks in the open waters. The children need a peaceful night.”
Sensible or not, my stomach churned. I shrugged when Dayita raised her eyebrows in question. My mind, the thinking part, said let’s get out of here, but my heart said stay.
Dayita relented. “Very well, we accept your kind hospitality.”
“Good, good. I’ll take you to a rest station.”
We followed Kaikoa into a star-shaped lounge in the cruise ship. The lounge smelled a lot like Cardiff’s tower.
His stomach ache forgotten, Ali flopped down on a blue lounger facing a shimmering screen. “Whoa! This is a-mazing! Does that thing do something?”
Kaikoa laughed. “Hold on a sec, young fella, and I’ll wake up the holo.”
Startling images danced across the room, and music floated in the air.
“What is that?” I said.
“Frozen V. Young people love this holo. They made a vid-game out of it.”
“But there ain’t no kids to play it, excepting us,” Ali said.
Kaikoa opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden jerk stopped him. “We’re moving. Take your seats and strap up for a spell.”
He rubbed his hands together and smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Since you’re staying a bit, we’ll have us an old-fashioned Texas barbecue to celebrate new friends.”
I pushed aside my concerns. “Excuse me, sir, but what is a Texas barbecue?”
Kaikoa stared at me, a look of disbelief on his gaunt face. Then he grinned. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”
Chapter Fifteen
A Texas Barbecue
We followed Dayita down a tree-lined lane. Hundreds of torches blazed along the path, and red and yellow sparklers shot high into the night sky. Drummers beat a hypnotic rhythm that kept time with our steps.
Musa edged closer to Belani and took her hand. “This is kind a spooky.”
Emoni grasped Belani’s other hand. Her big eyes noted everything, but she said nothing. K-bear patted her head and cooed when she kissed his nose.
The drummers’ tempo picked up and set our hearts racing as we stepped into the grass park. Low tables covered in red and white checkered cloths were scattered across the grass. Soft candlelight flickered on the tables.
“It’s pretty,” Belani said. She arched her eyebrow at me. “Even romantic.”
Kaikoa smiled and welcomed us, but the shifty gleam in his brown eyes never left. “Welcome to Central Park, the pride and joy of Tumala.”
A plump animal roasted on a spit at the edge of the park. Our stomachs growled at the mouth-watering smells.
Ali peered at the roasting animal. “Is that a steak? Is it really dead?”
“Yes, it’s dead, you dope,” Hasan said.
“But the steak blinked.”
Kaikoa laughed. “It’s a lamb, young Ali. We’ve been roasting it ever since you arrived.”
Mighty sure of himself. What if we left after the amusement park, like we should have?
Men dressed in long white skirts offered fancy rainbow drinks and juicy crab cakes. One emaciated man bowed before Belani. “Would you care for a drink and a canapé, miss?”
“Yes, thank you.” She chose a red drink with blue stripes, but waved away the crab cakes. “Fish.”
Hasan chose a purple drink and two crab cakes. He bit into the cake and a look of pure bliss crossed his face. “Better than sea cucumbers.”
Tumalans slipped into the park, like ghosts from the Beforetimes books Janine read to us. The women wore long, blue gowns that shimmered in the soft torch light. Green and blue feathers, colorful wires, and shiny spirals poked out of their headpieces.
Belani clutched my arm. “Their hair must be a foot high.”
“What are those pointy things on the bottom of their shoes?”
She shrugged. “Search me, but it’s a wonder they don’t tip over. Pretty though.”
They looked rather silly in my opinion. I much preferred women dressed in colorful wraps and tunics. Like Belani. She was wearing a red sari wound around her slim body. Her long black hair hung loose down her back, and a white flower was tucked behind her ear. The torch light cast mysterious shadows across her smooth face. Wafts of jasmine floated in the air.
I gulped. When had she grown up and become such a beautiful woman?
Belani licked her lips. “They’ve got blue and green color on their eyes and lips. Mayhap I’ll be able to decorate my face like that in Maniton.”
Was she baiting me? I held my tongue, but she giggled at my expression.
The men wore splashy green coats, much too heavy for the damp, hot night, and purple top hats. I sympathized. My arms and back itched from the long dark tunic Dayita insisted I wear over my sarong. Her exact words: “No child in my care is going to a party in overgrown shorts and nothing else.”
I yielded, grateful she did not force me to wear leather on my feet.
Dayita sidled over. “Not the Tumalan traditional dress,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. “They’ve changed some of their customs.”
The Tumalans greeted each other with kisses and smiles, but the smiles did not reach their painted eyes, and they fidgeted with their hair and hats while they talked. The women kept glancing at us, especially at Ali and the smaller kids. The hungry, unsettled look on their faces had nothing to do with the roasting lamb, though from their gaunt bodies they needed a good meal.
Fatima strutted across the park dressed in a black libus sprinkled with silver sequins. Lime green feathers poked out of her black headscarf. She tried mingling, but the Tumalans smiled vacantly and refused to be drawn into conversation. She sulked and joined Dayita. “Such rude people.”
Dayita chuckled. “No networking, Fatima?”
