Ben Archer Page 15

  He had barely hung up when his phone rang. It was Connelly.

  Hao filled him in on what had happened at the Police Department, including the ant incident, followed by the boy’s escape from the frozen bathroom. When he finished, there was silence at the other end of the line.

  “What is it?” Hao asked, fully expecting Connelly to accuse him of making the whole thing up.

  Instead, Connelly replied slowly, “Well, that makes sense.”

  “What do you mean?” Hao asked.

  “The preliminary results from the boy’s blood test have arrived. They need further research, but the evidence is already pretty conclusive.”

  “Well?” Hao urged.

  “The blood sample does not match that of the other witnesses,” Connelly said. “Rather, it matches that of the aliens.”

  Hao put his hand through his black hair streaked with grey above the ears, pacing from one end of the walkway to the other, as Connelly’s words slowly sank into his mind. “What are you saying?”

  The agent’s voice came clearly over the phone. “What I’m saying, is that the boy’s blood is not human.” He paused for effect, before adding, “It looks like we’ve found ourselves another alien.”

  ***

  On the island in the middle of the Burrard Inlet, Susan Pickering finished filling a basket with wood for the fire.

  She walked back to her cabin, only to find the door ajar. She stepped inside carefully, noticing small, wet prints on the kitchen floor. The area around the dog’s bowls was littered with crumbs of dog food and splashes of water. The paw prints went towards Laura’s bedroom.

  “Ben?” Susan called urgently.

  She dropped the basket, then rushed to the back, pushing open the bedroom door. She found a very ruffled Tike rolled up in a ball on the bed, fast asleep.

  Laura’s head was propped up on a pillow with her eyes open. In one hand she was grasping an asthma inhaler. She showed it to Susan, saying with a frail voice, “Where’s Ben?”

  ***

  The Haida Gwaii II sped onwards across the Strait of Georgia, heading further and further away from Granville Island.

  Ben lay hunched over his knees, his feet resting on the edge of the bench in front of him, his head down between his arms. Around him groups of people chatted away excitedly over the loud humming of the motors, making funny faces as they took each other’s pictures in their fancy orange suits and life jackets.

  Others were reading the whale watching company pamphlet, trying to memorize the names of the different types of whales they might encounter. The list was quite impressive, as it included Killer, Humpback, Minke and Blue whales, as well as Pacific white-sided dolphins.

  Someone patted Ben on the back. He glanced up hurriedly.

  “Have some chocolate,” Mrs. Stenner, the old widow from the pier, said gently, offering him a chocolate bar. “You’ll see, it will help with the seasickness.” She waved the bar at him. He took it gratefully. “Harold’s pockets were always full of them,” she chatted amiably. “He didn’t eat them himself, mind you. He was always careful about his diet, poor dear. No, he did it for me. He knew I would always ask him for one, my Harold did.” She stared into the distance, remembering.

  Munching hungrily on the chocolate, Ben said with a full mouth, “I’m sorry I got you into trouble.”

  Mrs. Stenner clicked her tongue. “Tut, tut! I won’t hear of it. My Harold always paid for two tickets, and so I shall, too, this year!” She patted him on the leg, before adding, “You relax, dear, enjoy the trip. You’ll see, when you get back, everything will be all right.” She got up, humming to herself as she strolled around the boat.

  Ben sighed, then decided to explore the boat as well. It was made of three decks: the bridge deck with the cockpit, the main deck with outer and inner rows of benches to accommodate the tourists, and the lower deck with machinery and the captain’s quarters. Thick, white clouds rolled across the sky, once in a while letting some sunshine through, while seagulls swooped around them, squawking. Ben wasn’t invested in the scenery around him. The fact that he had had a panic attack on Susan’s motorboat that morning crossed his mind, yet all he could think of was his mom and Tike. How was his dog ever going to make it all the way to Susan’s island?

  I miss you!

  With a heavy heart, he settled down near the front of the boat, below a jutting window from the indoor tourist area. Great exhaustion came over him. It had been a long day, full of intense emotions. The boat’s engines ran smoothly, carrying the craft evenly over the water. The sound lulled him. The occasional sunshine warmed him as he huddled away from the sea breeze. Before long his head bobbed until it rested against the wall, and he fell into a deep sleep.

  ***

  About two and a half hours later, up in the cockpit of the Haida Gwaii II, Captain Oliver Andrew was sipping on a cup of hot coffee, when a crewman turned and stretched out the speaker from the marine VHF radio to him, “Captain, it’s the Coast Guard. They want to speak to you directly.”

  The broad-faced Captain picked up the receiver, speaking with a distinctly Australian accent. “Captain Andrew here, over.” He listened for several minutes, before saying, “That seems highly unlikely, Sir. But send over the report: I’ll have it checked out by my crew. Over and out”

  He hung up, drummed his fingers on the dashboard impatiently, then turned as the fax machine came to life. A crewman picked up the printed document and handed it to him. The Captain read it with curiosity.

  “J-Pod, three miles northwest,” a crewman announced, pulling the Captain out of his thoughts.

  Captain Andrew placed the arrest warrant with Ben Archer’s face on it on the table, then took his binoculars to inspect the area of interest.

  A family of about twenty orca–also called an orca pod–frolicked in the open waters some distance ahead.

  “That oughta keep Mrs. Stenner happy,” the Captain muttered half to himself, though the crewman overheard him and chuckled.

  Behind them, the young sailor who had been checking the boarding tickets entered. He searched his jacket hanging from a hook in the wall, pulled out a sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil and sat down at the small table in the middle of the cockpit. He was about to take a big bite when the Captain noticed him. “Better hurry with that, Egor. I’m announcing a J-Pod in two minutes.”

  The tanned sailor with tattoos on his muscled arms pulled the sandwich away from his mouth. “Yes, Captain.” As he lifted the sandwich again, he spotted the upside-down arrest warrant. He gasped. “That’s that old widow’s grandson!” He said as he picked up the paper, turning it the right way up.

  Captain Andrew let go of his binoculars in a hurry. “What did you say?”

  Egor was still holding his sandwich in one hand and the paper in the other. He nodded towards Ben’s face. “Yes, that’s him, the boy who’s travelling with that woman…What’s her name again?” He frowned as he tried to remember.

  “Mrs. Stenner?” the Captain offered.

  “Yes, that’s it! She couldn’t find the boarding tickets for her grandson and herself, remember?”

  The Captain and the sailor exchanged a glance as they began to grasp the situation.

  “Get Mrs. Stenner up here, would you?” the Australian ordered.

  “Yes, Captain!” Egor answered, rising quickly, the sandwich now forgotten on the table.

  The engines stopped close to the orca pod as the young man left the table in search of Mrs. Stenner. Over the loudspeaker, the Captain invited the tourists to watch the black and white animals from the rear end of the deck, which they did in an instant, clicking their cameras as the animals played in the water.

  In the cockpit, Captain Andrew could hear Mrs. Stenner’s voice long before she reached the top of the stairs. As soon as Egor opened the door for her, she exclaimed excitedly. “Thank you so much for inviting me up here, Captain! I…”

  “Mrs. Stenner!” the Captain interrupted, holding up his hand to silenc
e her. “Please, Mrs. Stenner, didn’t you say you were travelling with your grandson? I was hoping you might have brought him up here with you.”

  The old widow stared at him blankly. “Grandson? What grandson?”

  Captain Andrew scowled as he waved the arrest warrant in her face. “This grandson?”

  She squinted to see the image better, then giggled. “Oh! That boy! This is his first trip, you know? But that’s not my grandson, by the way. I have six granddaughters and only one grandson! Can you imagine? He just turned three…”

  “Mrs. Stenner!” Captain Andrew scolded. “Are you telling me you lied to me? And that I have a stowaway kid on board my ship?”

  “Ooh!” Mrs. Stenner quipped, wide-eyed. “A stowaway! Well, how about that…” She stopped as Captain Andrew held up his hand again. He stared down at his feet with gritted teeth, fighting to remain calm.

  “Blimey,” he swore under his breath.

  ***

  Ben woke up to excited shouting. He blinked and searched the boat with his eyes, then realized the tourists had flocked to the back of the ship to observe the group of orca that was apparently putting on quite a show. The ship’s Captain spoke over the loudspeakers, explaining the nature of the orca family, where they came from, how old they were, what they ate, and even named some of the individuals, recognizing them by the shape of their tails and dorsal fins.

  Ben didn’t have the energy to participate in the excitement. He was still tired and hoped to catch some more sleep. At least that way he wouldn’t have to listen to his worried thoughts or his grumbling stomach. He closed his eyes again but could not find any peace this time. He had an eerie feeling of being watched. When he realized there was no one else there, he settled down again.

  That’s when he saw a great humpback whale basking at the surface of the water right in front of him. Ben blinked, thinking at first it might be a large rock. Then he saw the big, black eye staring at him silently, as the beast swam along, accompanying the soft swaying of the boat.

  Ben glanced around, discovering he was the only one who had noticed the huge mammal. He slid from his comfortable spot and approached the edge carefully, afraid any sudden movement might frighten the great beast away. It remained there, motionless, captivating him with its one huge eye. Boy and whale gazed at each other with curiosity. Ben felt an awe towards the animal that he had never before thought possible. In his mind, he could hear the muffled silence of the deep sea, while the immensity of the ocean reflected in the whale’s eye. There was a sense of great freedom in the vastness of the open waters, away from the sounds of humming motorboats, of wind and rain, drifting at will for miles and miles.

  “What are you looking at?” Ben said softly, as the whale swam level with him. “Are you going to keep me out of trouble?” he asked.

  As if in answer, the whale spewed out a loud stream of air and water through its blow hole before sinking slowly beneath the surface like a ghost.

  Beware…

  “Hey, kid!” someone barked behind Ben. “Free ride’s over now.”

  Ben whirled to face the sailor in his black t-shirt and jeans, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly nauseous, though he couldn’t tell if it was from motion sickness from the boat or something brought on by the whale.

  “You’d better come with me,” the sailor said. “The Captain wants to speak to you.”

  He was standing very close to Ben to show he meant business. It crossed Ben’s mind to make a run for it, but he had to give in to the obvious: there was nowhere to run to.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Haida Gwaii II

  When Ben entered the cockpit, closely followed by Egor, the Captain was waiting for him with his hands on his hips. The Australian was about to say something to the young sailor, when he wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, what’s that smell?”

  Egor fidgeted as he remained by the door. “Sorry, Captain. The kid threw up on my shoes on the deck.”

  The Captain glowered. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get cleaned up! And take care of that deck, too. I don’t want anyone slipping and hurting themselves.”

  The sailor opened his mouth to object, but the Australian glared at him in warning. Egor straightened. “Yes, Sir!” he said hastily, exiting the cockpit.

  Ben concentrated on remaining standing; his legs were like jelly. He felt terribly awkward standing before the Captain with his huge orange waders and jacket. The Captain waved him to the table so he could sit. The smell from Egor’s abandoned roast beef sandwich left Ben’s stomach churning, though, curiously, he couldn’t tell whether it was from seasickness or extreme hunger.

  “I’m Oliver Andrew, Captain of the Haida Gwaii II,” the Australian introduced himself.

  Ben glanced at him shyly. “I’m sorry I threw up on the deck,” he said apologetically. “…and that I didn’t pay for my ticket.”

  The Captain crossed his arms. “Do you think this is about an unpaid ticket, son?” he asked. “Tell me, do you know how many people are on board this ship?”

  When Ben shrugged, the Captain explained, “There are forty-seven tourists and six crewmembers, me included. That’s fifty-three in total. Fifty-three! Not one more, not one less. And I’m responsible for all of them. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re way out in the middle of the Strait. Should we run into any trouble, we’d be on our own here.”

  He paused to make sure he had the boy’s attention. “So,” he continued, “If we were to have problems, I’d be looking to save fifty-three people. Not fifty-four. If you were to slip and fall into the water, no one would know to look for you, because no one would have known you had snuck onto the boat.” He turned to look out at the vast sea–Ben’s eyes following his. “Do you see why you did a very irresponsible and dangerous thing?”

  Ben stared at the floor.

  I understand full well.

  “Now,” the Captain said. “For the safety of my passengers and crew, I want to know what’s going on. Why are you here and what did you do, son?” He waved a finger at him.

  Ben glanced up at him angrily. “I didn’t do anything!”

  Captain Andrew shoved the arrest warrant towards him. “That’s not what it says here, mate. This CSIS guy seems to think otherwise.”

  Ben sat back, his heart sinking.

  The Captain waited for him to respond. Since Ben didn’t reply, he said, “Fine, have it your way.” He took the paper from the table, then picked up the speaker from the marine VHF radio. “I’m sorry, son, whatever trouble you’re in, you’ll have to face the consequences. You’re too young to be dragging arrest warrants behind you.”

  He said into the speaker. “Charlie Bravo One, Charlie Bravo One. This is Alpha Foxtrot. Come in. Over.”

  “Alpha Foxtrot. This is Charlie Bravo One. You are speaking to the Coast Guard. Go ahead. Over,” a woman answered.

  The Captain kept his eyes on Ben the whole time. “This is Captain Andrew Oliver from the Haida Gwaii II. Patch me through to Inspector James Hao from the CSIS. Tell him I have his suspect in custody. Over.”

  “Copy. Over.”

  There was a long silence, then a man’s voice answered, “This is Inspector James Hao. Who is this? Over.”

  Ben’s face paled as the Captain presented himself and explained the situation.

  “Excellent work, Captain,” Hao said. “Give me your location. I will dispatch an amphibious helicopter to pick up the suspect. Over.”

  The Captain stared at the receiver, somewhat taken aback, before replying, “Negative, Inspector. I will not have any disruptions to my trip, nor will I cause panic among my passengers with unusual maneuvers. We will head back to port immediately. We will arrive in less than an hour. Over.”

  The Captain listened expectantly. Then the radio crackled back to life.

  Hao said, “Understood. You are not to let the boy out of your sight. He already escaped from the Vancouver Police Department this morning. Over.”

  The Captain glanced at Ben in surprise,
then said, “I need to know what I’m up against. The arrest warrant is vague. Please elaborate. Over.”

  There was another silence before Hao replied icily, “This is a confidential matter relating to national security, Captain. I am not authorized to elaborate. We expect you here in one hour. Over and out.”

  The Captain bit his lip, unhappy with the answer, but said, “Roger that. Over and out.”

  He put down the speaker, inspecting Ben, who looked like he was about to throw up again. The Captain headed to the back of the cockpit, where he opened a cooler and fished out a Coke. He handed it to Ben, who gulped it down thirstily.

  “Blimey!” Captain Andrew said. “Slow down, mate! The Coke will settle your stomach but don’t overdo it!”

  Ben put down the can, and eyed the sandwich hungrily. The Captain noticed. “Go on, eat it, if you think your stomach can handle it. You’ll need a clear head when we arrive.”

  Ben didn’t wait to be told twice: he chomped down on the sandwich as if he hadn’t eaten in days. In the meantime, Captain Andrew gave orders to turn the boat around and head back to Granville Island. Ben was swallowing the last piece of bread when Egor returned. The sailor’s eyes immediately fell on the empty aluminum foil. He glowered at Ben without saying anything.

  Captain Andrew turned his attention to Ben again. “Shouldn’t you be calling someone? Your mom? Your dad? To let them know you’re safe?”

  Ben bit his lip, then shook his head.

  “There has to be someone,” the Captain insisted.

  “There is,” Ben replied with great effort. “My mom. But she’s very sick.” He gazed pleadingly at the Captain, before blurting, “I don’t want her to die! That’s why I went to get her inhaler! I thought if I could treat her asthma, maybe she would get better…”