He walked toward her.
“You all right?” he asked gruffly.
She looked up, her face streaked with tears, her mascara running. She nodded but continued to cradle her arm. “I think my arm is broken,” she said, speaking English.
Kurt’s natural protective instincts kicked in, but he reminded himself that, moments before, this woman had been spying on him and his friends and even taking pictures of the catamaran. He figured she owed him a few answers.
“I’ll get you to a hospital,” he said, helping her up, “but first you need to tell me who you are, why you’re following me, and what you find so interesting about a derelict catamaran?”
“You’re Kurt Austin,” she said in a tone of determined certainty. “You work for NUMA.”
“That’s right,” he said. “And just how do you know that?”
“I’m Leilani Tanner,” she said.
The name rang a bell. She explained before he could place it.
“Kimo A’kona was my brother. My half brother. He was on that boat.”
A condescending look appeared on Xhou’s face for a moment. He knew Mustafa as a shrewd but simple man. Simple desires, revenge against an enemy. Simple thoughts, not the kind that extended beyond short-term gain.
“Yes,” he said. “But you must understand, the weather change is not once and for all. It is not permanent. In this form, it is a gift from Jinn, revocable at his will. Once the rains begin falling on our lands, we become as dependent on them as those in India who are now desperately watching the skies. There is little to stop Jinn from changing his mind and sending the rains back.”
Xhou paused to let this sink in, and then added, “If he wishes, Jinn will become the rainmaker, selling to the highest bidder year in and year out.”
Mustafa lifted his cup of tea but did not take a sip. The truth hit him, and he placed it back on the saucer.
“India is more wealthy than my country,” he said.
Xhou nodded. “You will not be successful bidding against them.”
Mustafa seemed to brood. “Jinn is Arab, he is Muslim, he would not chose the Sikhs and Hindus of India over us.”
“Can you be sure of that?” Xhou asked. “You told me that Jinn’s family have long been called foxes of the desert. How else to explain their rise to wealth? He will choose what is right for his clan.”
Still considering Xhou’s point, Mustafa placed the cup and saucer back on the table. He glanced at the food and then turned away disgustedly. It seemed his appetite was gone.
“I fear you might be right,” he said. “And what’s more, I now suspect this has occurred to Jinn long before it occurred to any of us. Why else would he insist on keeping the production facilities in his tiny country?”
“So we agree,” Xhou said. “With only the Jinn’s promises and no way to enforce them, we are all in a precarious situation.”
“None as precarious as mine,” Mustafa said. “I do not enjoy the luxuries you have here. We have no bullet trains in my country or new cities with gleaming buildings and untraveled roads. We have little in the way of foreign reserves to cushion our fall if it should come.”
“But you have something we do not,” Xhou said. “You have people with long memories and a history of dealing with Jinn. He is far more likely to trust you than an envoy of mine.”
“Jinn will never let us near his technology,” Mustafa said.
Xhou grinned. “We do not need it immediately.”
“I don’t understand,” Mustafa said. “I thought—”
“We need only eliminate Jinn’s ability to direct it. Or better yet, eliminate him and direct it ourselves. Without Jinn to countermand the existing orders, the horde would do what he has already promised. The rains will come to us permanently.”
Mustafa’s mustache turned slowly upward as a sinister smile came over his face. He seemed to grasp what Xhou was getting at. “What are your terms,” he said. “And be advised I cannot promise success. Only the attempt.”
Xhou nodded. There was no way anyone could guarantee what was being asked.
“Twenty million dollars upon confirmation of Jinn’s death, eighty million more if you can deliver the command codes.”
Mustafa almost began drooling, but then a chill seemed to take him, strong enough to cool the fires of his greed.
“Jinn is not a man to be trifled with,” he said. “The desert is littered with the bones of those who’ve crossed him.”
Xhou sat back. He had Mustafa and he knew it. A little prod to his pride would seal it. “There is no reward without risk, Mustafa. If you are willing to be more than Jinn’s puppet, you must understand this.”
Mustafa took a breath, steeled himself against the fate. “We will act,” he said firmly, “upon receipt of ten million in advance.”
Xhou nodded and waved one of his men over. A suitcase was dropped to the floor. Mustafa reached for it. As he touched the handle, Xhou spoke again.
“Remember, Mustafa, there are places in my country littered with bones as well. Betray me, and no one will care if a few Pakistani carcasses are added to the pile.”
“I don’t mean to be blunt, but what in the world are you doing here?”
Her arm was in a sling. A scrape above her eye had been stitched and dabbed with iodine. “I came to find out what happened to my brother.”
Understandable, Kurt thought, except he knew for certain that Dirk Pitt hadn’t contacted any family members yet. “How did you know something was wrong?”
“My brother studied currents,” she said, looking at him sadly. “I studied the things that swim around in them. We spoke or e-mailed every single day. In his last few e-mails he mentioned that he and the others were beginning to find some very strange temperature and oxygen readings. He wanted to know what effects these changes could have on local sea life. He said they were finding drastically reduced krill and plankton counts and far less fish. He said it was like the sea had begun turning cold and barren.”
Kurt knew this to be true from Halverson’s last report.
“When he stopped e-mailing, I got worried,” she added. “When he didn’t answer the satellite calls, I contacted NUMA. And when no one there would tell me what was going on, I flew here and sought out the harbormaster. He told me about the salvage. Told me people from NUMA were coming to check it out. I thought maybe you were here as a search party, but then I saw the boat and …”
She grew quiet, looking down at the floor. Kurt expected tears, and a few of them seemed to be coming, but she kept herself under control.
“What happened to my brother?” she asked finally.
Kurt remained silent.
“Our parents are gone, Mr. Austin. He’s all I have … all I had.”
Kurt understood. “I don’t know,” he said. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. Any idea who those men were?”
“No,” she said. “You?”
“No,” Kurt admitted, though any doubts he had about the catamaran’s troubles being accidental were fast disappearing. “When did Kimo last contact you?”
She looked back at the floor. “Three days ago, in the morning.”
“Anything unusual in the message?”
“No,” she said. “Just what I already told you. Why?”
Kurt glanced around the small alcove of an emergency room: staff members were busy, patients waited, there was the occasional electronic chirp or pinging bell. Calm, quiet, orderly. And yet Kurt sensed danger lurking somewhere.
“Because I’m trying to figure out what those men might have gained from kidnapping you. To begin with, we only suspected foul play before. Now we can almost be certain of it. And if you don’t know any more than we do …”
“All Kimo sent me was the base data. I’m sure you have it too. Even if you didn’t, taking me wouldn’t hide it.”
She was right. But that meant there was even less reason for someone to stage such an attack.
“Are you going to look for them?”
“The police are looking for them,” Kurt said, “though I’m sure they’re long gone. My job is to figure out what happened to the catamaran and its crew. I’m guessing they found something out there that someone didn’t want them to find. Something more than temperature anomalies. If that leads us to the men who attacked you, we’ll deal with them then.”
“Let me help you,” she said.
He’d been expecting her to say that. He shook his head. “It’s not a science project. And in case you couldn’t tell, it’s likely to be dangerous.”
She pursed her lips as if stung by the comment, but instead of lashing out she spoke calmly: “My brother’s gone, Mr. Austin. You and I both know that. Growing up in Hawaii, you learn the power of the ocean. It’s beautiful. It’s dangerous. We’ve lost friends before, surfing, sailing and diving. If the sea has Kimo in its arms, that’s one thing. If some men put him there because of what he found, that’s far worse to me. And I’m not the kind to just let it be.”
“You’re going through a lot,” he said. “And it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.”
“That’s why I have to do something,” she pleaded. “To take my mind off it.”
Kurt had no choice but to be blunt. “In my experience, you’re going to be unstable whether you have something to do or not. That can have an effect on the whole team. I’m sorry, but I can’t have someone like that tagging along for the ride.”
“Fine,” she said. “But plan on seeing me out there anyway because I’m not going to sit around and grieve.”
“What are you saying?”
This time she was blunt. “If you won’t let me help, I’ll continue to investigate on my own. If my search messes yours up, I guess that’s just too bad.”
Kurt exhaled. It was hard to be angry with someone who’d lost a family member, but she was pushing him toward it. He guessed she meant every word. The problem was, she had no idea what she was getting into.
The doctor walked in carrying the X-ray films. “You are going to be okay, Ms. Tanner. Your arm is only bruised, not broken.”
“You see,” she said to Kurt, “I’m tough.”
“And lucky,” he replied.
“Nothing wrong with having luck on your side.”
The doctor stared blankly, confused at the conversation he’d walked in on. “I also think luck is a good thing.”
“You’re not helping,” Kurt mumbled.
He was trapped. He could hardly dump her off on her own after what just happened. Nor could he have her locked up for her own good or deported back to Hawaii, where she might be safe. It left him only one choice.
“Fine,” he said.
“I won’t cause any trouble,” she said.
He smiled at her through gritted teeth. “But you already are,” he assured her.
Twenty minutes later—to the horror of the medical staff—Kurt helped Leilani climb onto the damaged Vespa. With far more caution than his first trip on the machine, he rode her back to the other side of the island.
They arrived intact. Kurt promised the stricken guard that his scooter would be repaired or replaced by NUMA and offered his watch as collateral.
The guard eyed it suspiciously. Kurt wondered if he realized the watch was worth twice what a new scooter would cost.
With Leilani at his side, Kurt stepped back on board the catamaran and introduced her to the Trouts.
“And this is Joe Zavala,” he added as Joe came up from below the deck. “Your new best friend and chaperone.”
They shook hands.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Joe said, “but why am I her new best friend?”
“You’re going to make sure nothing happens to her,” Kurt said. “And, more important, that she doesn’t cause any problems for the rest of us.”
“I’ve never been the chaperone before,” Joe said.
“First time for everything,” Kurt said. “Now, how are we doing?”
“Power’s back up,” Joe said. “Battery is pretty low, but the solar panels and the wind turbine are carrying the load.”
“Did we find anything?”
Paul spoke first. “Once Joe got the power back on, I was able to access the tracking mode on the GPS. They kept to a westerly course until a little after eight p.m. on the last night they reported in. Then the course and speed become erratic.”
“Any idea why?”
“We think that’s when the incident occurred,” Paul said. “The sail was partially burned in the fire. Losing its shape would change the boat’s profile and speed. Looks like it began to drift.”
“Where were they when this happened?”
“About four hundred miles west-southwest of here.”
“What else?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary on the ship’s log or in any of their notes or computer files,” Paul said. “But Gamay found something of interest, as usual.”
Kurt turned to Gamay.
She held up a glass beaker with an inch of charcoal-colored water in it.
“This is the residue left behind by the fire. I mixed it with distilled water. In most cases, soot is primarily carbon. And while there’s plenty of that in this sludge, it’s also carrying a strange mix of metals: tin, iron, silver, even trace amounts of gold. And a strange speckling that’s quite hard to see.”
Kurt looked closely at the water in the beaker, there was an odd, almost iridescent shimmer to it.
“What’s causing it?”
Gamay shook her head. “None of my equipment was strong enough to tell us. But they had a microscope on board. Once Joe got its power on, we photographed the samples. Whatever it is, it’s moving.”
“Moving?” Kurt repeated. “What do you mean moving?”
“It’s not inert,” she said. “The carbon and the residue are still, but something on or within the residue is still active. Whatever it is, it’s so small, we can’t make it out under a microscope.”
The news seemed to make Leilani uncomfortable. Kurt thought about tabling the discussion for later, but this was the deal: it was going to be uncomfortable, and if she couldn’t handle it, now was the time to realize that.
“Are we talking about a bacteria or some other microorganism?” Kurt asked.