Jingo. Part 33

"Why're we playing with this wheel? It's not as if the rudder's in the water!"

They let go. The spokes blurred for a moment, and then stopped as the fire wrapped itself around them.

Then it rained cake.

The Watch had tried to make themselves comfortable in the hold, but there were difficulties. There wasn't any area of floor which at some point in every ten seconds wasn't an area of wall.

Nevertheless, someone was snoring.

"How can anyone sleep in this this?" said Reg Shoe.

"Captain Carrot can," said Cheery. She was hacking at something with her ax.

Carrot had wedged himself into a corner. Occasionally he mumbled something, and s.h.i.+fted position.

"Like a baby. Beats me how he's managing it," said Reg Shoe. "Of course, any minute this thing is going to fall apart."

"Yes, but dat shouldn't worry you, should it?" said Detritus. "On account of you bein' dead already?"

"So? I end up at the bottom of the sea knee-deep in whale droppings? And it'll be a long walk home in the dark. Not to mention the problems if a shark tries to eat me."

"I shall fear not. According to the Testament of Mezerek, the fisherman Nonpo spent four days in the belly of a giant fish," said Constable Visit.

The thunder seemed particularly loud in the silence.

"Washpot, are we talking miracles here?" said Reg eventually. "Or just a very slow digestive process?"

"You would be better employed considering the state of your immortal soul than making jokes," said Constable Visit severely.

"It's the state of my immortal body that's worrying me," said Reg.

"I have a leaflet here which will bring you considerable-" Visit began.

"Washpot, is it big enough to be folded into a boat that'll save us all?"

Constable Visit pounced on the opening. "Aha, yes, metaphorically it is is-"

"Hasn't this s.h.i.+p got got a lifeboat?" said Cheery hurriedly. "I'm sure I saw one when we came on." a lifeboat?" said Cheery hurriedly. "I'm sure I saw one when we came on."

"Yeah...lifeboat," said Detritus.

"Anyone want a sardine?" said Cheery. "I've managed to get a tin open."

"Lifeboat," Detritus repeated. He sounded like someone exploring an unpleasant truth. "Like...a big, heavy thing which would've slowed us down...?"

"Yes, I saw it, I know I did," said Reg.

"Yeah...dere was one," said Detritus. "Dat was a lifeboat, was it?"

"At the very least we ought to get somewhere sheltered and drop the anchor."

"Yeah...anchor..." mused Detritus. "Dat's a big thing kinda hooks on, right?"

"Of course."

"Kinda heavy thing?"

"Obviously!"

"Right. An'...er...if it was dropped a long time ago, on accounta bein' heavy, dat wouldn't do us much good now?"

"Hardly." Reg Shoe glared through the hatchway. The sky was a dirty yellow blanket, criss-crossed with fire. Thunder boomed continuously.

"I wonder how far the barometer's sunk?" he said.

"All der way," said Detritus gloomily. "Trust me on dis."

It was in the nature of a D'reg to open doors carefully. There was generally an enemy on the other side. Sooner or later.

He saw the collar lying on the floor, right by a little fountain of water trickling from the hull, and swore under his breath.

Ahmed waited just a moment, and then pushed the door back quickly. It rattled against the wall.

"I don't intend to harm you," he said to the gloom of the bilges. "If that was my intention, by now you'd-"

She wished she'd used the wolf. There would have been no problem with the wolf. That was was the problem. She'd easily win, but then she'd be nervy and frightened. A human could stay on top of that. A wolf might not. She'd do the wrong things, panicky things, the problem. She'd easily win, but then she'd be nervy and frightened. A human could stay on top of that. A wolf might not. She'd do the wrong things, panicky things, animal animal things. things.

She pushed him hard as she dropped down from above the door, somersaulted backward, slammed the door and turned the key.

The sword came through the planking like a hot knife through runny lard.

There was a gasp beside her. She spun round and saw two men holding a net. They would have thrown it over the wolf. What they hadn't been expecting was a naked woman. The sudden appearance of a naked woman always causes a rethink of anyone's immediate plans.

She kicked them both hard and ran in the opposite direction, opened the first door at random and slammed it behind her.

It was the cabin with the dogs in it. They sprang to their feet, opened their mouths-and slunk down again. A werewolf can have considerable power over other animals, whatever shape she's in, although it is largely the power to make them cringe and try to look inedible.

She hurried past them and pulled at one of the hangings over the bunk.

The man in the bunk opened his eyes. He was a Klatchian, but pale with weakness and pain. There were dark rings under his eyes.

"Ah," he said, "it would appear that I have died and gone to Paradise. Are you a houri houri?"

"I don't have to take that kind of language, thank you," said Angua, ripping the silk in two with a practiced hand.

She was aware that she had a slight advantage over male werewolves in that naked women caused fewer complaints, although the downside was that they got some pressing invitations. Some kind of covering was essential, for modesty and the prevention of inconvenient bouncing, which was why fas.h.i.+oning impromptu clothes out of anything to hand was a lesser-known werewolf skill.

Angua stopped. Of course, to the unpracticed eye all Klatchians looked alike, but then to a werewolf all humans looked alike: they looked appetizing. She'd learned to discern.

"Are you Prince Khufurah?"

"I am. And you are...?"

The door was kicked open. Angua leapt toward the window and flung aside the bar restraining the shutters. Water funneled into the cabin, drenching her, but she managed to scramble up and out.

"Just pa.s.sing through?" the Prince murmured.

71-hour Ahmed strode to the window and looked out. Green-blue waves edged with fire fought outside as the s.h.i.+p heaved. No one could stay afloat in a sea like that.

He turned and looked along the hull to where Angua was clinging to a trailing line.

She saw him wink at her. Then he turned away and she heard him say, "She must have drowned. Back to your posts!"

Presently, up on the deck, a hatch closed.

The sun rose in a cloudless sky.

A watcher, if such had been out here, would have noticed a slight difference in the way the swells were moving on this tiny patch of sea.

They might even have wondered about the piece of bent piping which turned with a faint squeaking noise.

Had they been able to place an ear to it, they would have heard the following: "-idea while I was dozing off. Piece of pipe, two angled mirrors-the solution to all our steering and air problems!"

"Fascinating. A Seeing-Things-Pipe-You-Can-Breathe-Down."

"My goodness, how did you know it was called that, my lord?"

"A lucky guess."

"'ere, someone's re-designed my pedaling seat, it's comfortable comfortable-"

"Ah, yes, corporal, I took some measurements while you were asleep and rebuilt it for a better anatomical configu-"

"You took measurements?"

"Oh, yes, I-"

"What, of my...saddlery regions?"

"Oh, please don't be concerned, anatomy is something of a pa.s.sion with me-"

"Is it? Is it? Well, you can stop being pa.s.sionate about mine for a start-"

"Here, I can see an island of some sort!"

The pipe squeaked around.

"Ah, Leshp. And I see people. To your pedals, gentlemen. Let us explore the ocean's bottom..."

"I expect we shall, with him him steering-" steering-"

"Shut up, n.o.bby."

The pipe slid down into the waves. There was a little flurry of bubbles and a damp argument about whose job it should have been to put the cork in, and then the patch of sea that had been empty was, somehow, a little bit emptier still.

There weren't any fish.

At a time like this Solid Jackson would have even been prepared to eat Curious Squid.

But the sea was empty. And it smelled wrong. It fizzed gently. Solid could see little bubbles breaking on the surface, which burst with a smell of sulfur and rotting eggs. He guessed that the rise of the land must have stirred up a lot of mud. It was bad enough at the bottom of a pond, all those frogs and bugs and things, and this was the sea- He tried hard to reverse that train of thought, but it kept on rising from the depths like a...like a...

Why were there no fish? Oh, there'd been the storm last night, but generally you got better fis.h.i.+ng in these parts after a storm because it...stirred...up...

The raft rocked.

He was beginning to think it might be a good idea to go home, but that'd mean leaving the land to the Klatchians, and that'd happen over his dead body.

The treacherous internal voice said: Funnily enough, they never found Mr. Hong's body. Not most of the important bits, anyway.

"I think, think, I think we'll be getting back now," he said to his son.

"Oh, Dad," said Les. "Another dinner of limpets and seaweed?"

"Nothing wrong with seaweed," said Jackson. "It's full of nouris.h.i.+ng...seaweed. 's got iron in it. Good for you, iron."

"Why don't we boil an anchor, then?"

"None of your lip, son."

"The Klatchians have got bread," said Les. "They brought flour with them. And they've got firewood." This was a sore point with Jackson. Efforts to make seaweed combust had not been successful.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't like their bread," said Jackson. "It's all flat and got no proper crust-"