Hamish X Goes to Providence Rhode Island Read online

  Back to the point! The hum! The hum began to swell. Mimi’s brain registered the change as the hum grew louder and became more like a pulse, rumble, or vibration.

  It was like being on the sidewalk when a subway train passes deep below the pavement. Not that Mimi had ever been to a city big enough to have subway trains, but her father had told her about a trip to New York when he was playing baseball and the great throb of the trains below the streets. The tone grew in strength, becoming more insistent. The children fell silent, waiting for whatever was coming.

  Mimi was suddenly aware of a light growing all around her. As the illumination brightened, she saw that they were standing in a domed chamber hollowed out of the rock. There were numerous doorways cut into the chamber and in each one stood a cluster of children, refugees from the Hollow Mountain, staring with wonder and trepidation as the light intensified. When the groups saw one another they quickly moved into one clump, herding together for protection. The light was coming from the water, shining from beneath the surface and steadily waxing.10 The ceiling had begun to glow as well, as if in response to whatever was in the water. The water began to froth and churn as an object rose from the depths.

  The waters parted over a glowing dome of crystal that shimmered wetly with a light so powerful that it hurt the children’s eyes. It was as if a small sun was rising. Mimi took a step forward and shielded her eyes with her hand over her brow, peering at the object through slitted lids.

  The dome stopped rising, a hemisphere of crystal radiating softly with its own inner illumination. A crack opened on the side nearest Mimi, widening steadily until an aperture that looked like a slice of pie spilled illumination onto the water’s surface. From the opening, a tongue of the crystalline material emerged, a gentle hum accompanying the movement until with a grinding chunk the extension stopped a few centimetres short of the pool’s edge.

  Mimi took another step towards the bridge, for so it was, before Mr. Kipling laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

  “Wait.” Mr. Kipling drew his sabre and stood at the ready.

  There was movement in the opening of the crystal hemisphere. Forms, backlit by the light from within, shuffled out onto the bridge. The children gasped as the creatures emerged from the radiant dome.

  The creatures were dressed in tattered rags pulled over glittering but tarnished armour that seemed to be cobbled together from many different sources. They were short in stature and they were pale, with eyes the colour of polar ice. Their hair was almost colourless, and twisted into their tresses11 were bits of shells and odd scraps of shiny metal. They were obviously adults, but Mimi towered over them. In their knobby, powerful hands they carried a variety of strange weapons manufactured of a dull black material. The weapons ranged from staves12 and crossbows to swords and axes.

  One of them stepped forward and levelled his crossbow at Mimi. His hair hung in greasy ropes about his face. Tangled in his straggly beard were scraps of fish bone, seashell, and tin. He looked Mimi up and down, his gaze haughty and imperious.

  Finally, he stood up to his full height (still inches below Mimi’s chin), drew back his shoulders, and barked in a sharp, raspy voice:

  “You’re trespassing! Leave … or die!”

  Having made that dire announcement, he took a step forward and fell face first into the water.

  Chapter 2

  The man struggled to his feet and pulled himself out of the water. Pointing at the bridge and the gap between its end and the shore, he spoke an odd gurgling language to his fellows. It appeared that he was complaining about something. Finally, he turned back to Mimi. He summoned his rumpled, drenched dignity and said again:

  “You’re trespassing! Leave or die!”

  The declaration reverberated off the surrounding walls, bouncing back and forth ominously along the stone. The children were obviously quite impressed and frightened by the odd party of newcomers levelling their weapons at Mimi and Mr. Kipling. Mimi merely stared at the man. He stared back. After a long moment, his brow furrowed and he frowned. Lowering his cross-bow, he said, in a wounded tone, “What? Did I say it wrong?”

  One of the other strange people, a woman, jabbed him in the ribs with a gnarled staff. “Xnasos, you ninny. Of course you said it wrong. They don’t understand you. What a dumdum!”

  “I didn’t say it wrong, Xnasha. And don’t call me a dumdum.”

  “Sorry, brother. You’re right. You’re not a dumdum. You’re a nitwit.”

  “I am not a nitwit.”

  “You’re right. A nit has more wit than you could ever dream of having. You’re a sub-nitwit.”

  “I said it right!”

  “Why is she looking at you then? She obviously doesn’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “I’m telling you, I said it right … and anyway, I’m the spokesman. We all voted.”

  Xnasos and Xnasha started shoving each other and would have come to blows if Mimi hadn’t interjected. “Hold on! Hold on! Settle down, y’all.” She stepped between the two combatants, placing a hand on each of their foreheads and holding them at arm’s length from each other. “I understood ya fine, little fella, but here’s the thing: I don’t take kindly ta people pokin’ a bow and arrow in my face.”

  The man called Xnasos looked at the bow in his hands and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry about that. We can’t be too careful. One can’t be too sure these days.” He suddenly frowned fiercely. “Who are you calling little? I’m the tallest person around.”

  “I’m just as tall as you are,” the one called Xnasha said. “Almost all of us are taller than you.”

  “You’re wearing shoes with very thick soles,” Xnasos scoffed, waving a gnarled hand dismissively. “In sandals, it’s no contest.”

  “I still think she’s taller …,” someone in the back pointed out.

  Xnasos gritted his teeth and ignored the comment. Turning to Mimi, he announced once again: “You’re trespassing! Leave at once or else.” The whole group shook their weapons in what they thought was a menacing way, but it ended up looking rather silly. Eventually, the strangers realized that they weren’t impressing Mimi and so they stopped, shuffling their feet restlessly.

  “Now what?” Xnasha asked sarcastically.

  Xnasos cut her off with a slash of his hand. “Enough!” The little man turned to Mimi and pointed up into her face. “You are trespassing!”

  Swift as an enraged donkey,13 Mimi grabbed the finger. “It’s rude ta point,” she snarled, gently twisting the finger backwards.

  “Ow!” yelped Xnasos. “Ow! Ow! Ow!”

  “You don’t seem ta git it, so I’ll say it slow,” Mimi growled. “We ain’t trespassin’. We came here ’cause we …” Mimi shrugged and let go of the finger. “’Cause we ain’t got nowhere else ta go.”

  The strangers stared at Mimi as if she were crazy. They stepped back out of reach of the wild-haired girl.

  Mimi decided to state the refugees’ case. “Well, uh … Xnasos, my name is Mimi. And this here’s Mr. Kipling and we … that is, all of us … just escaped from the destruction of the Hollow Mountain. And well, we ended up here …”

  Mimi’s declaration brought a hush to the group of small folk. As if for the first time, they looked past her to take in the crowd of children standing in the shadows behind Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis.

  “Look!” the one called Xnasha said in an awed whisper. “They’re children.” Hushed debate erupted among the party. They spoke in a hissing, gulping language that Mimi couldn’t understand. She watched with growing impatience as the one claiming to be the spokesman argued with his sister and several other of his followers. Finally, he turned back to Mimi. Xnasos stared at the tall girl, his eyes cold and calculating.

  “You’re still trespassing. Get lost.”

  The crowd of strangers jeered their agreement. They shook their weapons and banged their staves on the stone floor.

  Mimi suddenly felt annoyed with these bizarre people who were bein
g so disrespectful. She had already had a long day.

  “You look here, pipsqueaks!” Mimi’s sharp voice silenced the strangers. They blinked their huge pale eyes at her. “I ain’t got time fer all these shenanigans. I’ve had a bad day.” She stepped closer to the spokesman and towered over the group. “I’ve been shot at, scorched, shocked, and beaten. I’ve been chased outta the only home I ever had. I lost one best friend to a pack o’ Grey Agents and the other to I don’t know what!” At the mention of Grey Agents, Mimi thought she saw a flicker of fear in their eyes. “I fell down a hole and ended up here, and I ain’t got the patience left ta deal with any guff from you bunch o’ shrimps. Are you gonna help us or are we gonna have to make ya sorry ya didn’t? I started this day at a wedding. Don’t make me end it at a funeral.”

  She planted her fists on her hips and stuck out her chin, waiting for a response.

  The little people looked at one another, then at the hawkish face of the girl glowering at them. They looked at the crowd of children who stared back with determined faces. Mr. Kipling’s hand fell to the hilt of his sabre.

  “Surely, there’s no need for threats.” Xnasos smiled unctuously,14 showing yellow, unhealthy-looking teeth. “We just have to be cautious. Our realm is a secret that has been kept for centuries—”

  “Millennia,” one of the others offered. She was a short, bandy-legged female who wore a skirt of what looked like fish skins.

  “I’m talking! It’s me who’s the talking one. My turn. We agreed.”

  “Well, just be accurate,” the woman said evenly. “It’s more like millennia.”

  “Fine. Millennia.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “Hey,” Mimi interrupted the witty repartee. “Are ya gonna help us or not?”

  The one called Xnasos rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Grey Agents, you say?” He shot a worried glance at his sister, who frowned. “Most dangerous, they are. We certainly don’t want to attract their attention. Another good reason for us to send you packing.”

  “But we did swear a pact with the King of the Hollow Mountain,” Xnasha insisted. “And, brother, they are children!”

  The little people murmured their agreement. Xnasos looked vexed. He glared at Mimi and her companions.

  “Xnasos,” Xnasha repeated softly. “We swore an oath.”

  “I heard you the first time!” Xnasos barked, furious. He glared his sister into silence.

  “Well?” Mimi prompted.

  Xnasos stepped forward, and after one more disdainful look at Mimi, he sneered. “We refuse your appeal for shelter.”

  Cara’s voice was sharp. “You can’t do that. You had a deal with the King of Switzerland. We were to come here for help.”

  The strangers scuffed their sandals against the stone floor, looking uncomfortable. Xnasha seemed embarrassed. Xnasos shook his head and raised a pedantic15 finger. “We had a deal with a King of Switzerland. Not necessarily the King of Switzerland who is your King of Switzerland!” The pale eyes flickered back and forth. “And I don’t see a King of Switzerland anywhere. So … the deal’s off.”

  Mimi reached over her shoulder and pulled her fighting stick from its sheath on her back. She swung the stick once around her head and settled into a combat stance, her left foot forward, the stick held menacingly in front of her. “All right. I ain’t gonna take no fer an answer. I’ve had a bad day. The worst. We ain’t gonna leave.”

  Cara took up position next to Mimi. Mr. Kipling drew his sabre, the slice of steel on leather echoing off the stone walls. The little people shrank back, raising their various weapons and retreating towards their weird shining dome.

  “Stop this foolishness at once!” Mrs. Francis’s voice froze everybody in his or her tracks. She pushed her way through the ring of children to arrive in front of the fierce-looking pack of stunted creatures. Mimi was alarmed to see Mrs. Francis place herself within striking distance of the weapons in their gnarled hands. The former housekeeper showed no sign of fear, however. She puffed herself up as large as she could and stamped her soiled satin-encased foot. “How dare you refuse shelter to these children? They are hungry and frightened and in need of your help.”

  “I wasn’t really—,” Xnasos began, only to be cut off by Mrs. Francis.

  “No, you weren’t really! Really!” Mrs. Francis’s face flushed with fury as she stamped her small foot again. “I demand that you live up to your promise to provide aid and assistance to the King. Why … it’s the right thing to do, seeing that the Hollow Mountain is destroyed and the King probably … probably …” She burst into tears, burying her face in Mr. Kipling’s shoulder.

  Xnasos and his fellows lowered their weapons and hung their heads, suddenly finding the stone floor fascinating in the extreme. Finally, Xnasos said sheepishly, “Madam, there’s no need for tears. We were just being cautious. We can’t be too careful any more. The Grey Agents are formidable enemies. We can’t risk war with the ODA. There are not so many of us as there once were.” He looked up and his big blue eyes were full of sadness. “The Hollow Mountain destroyed?” He shook his head. “The pact we made was one of mutual protection and safe haven. I never thought we’d see the day when the King of Switzerland needed our help. But this is a grave decision, affecting us all. We must debate.” He bowed and his fellows followed suit. “We have to be certain that you are deserving to enter the great and hallowed undersea realm of Atlantis!”

  Chapter 3

  PARVEEN

  A sudden, jarring thud woke Parveen from a fitful sleep. He groaned, stretching his stiff, cramped muscles. The compartment he shared with his unconscious sister was barely spacious enough to accommodate one person, and that was under the assumption that the person in question was drugged, stunned, or otherwise incapacitated. Parveen had spent the entire trip from the Hollow Mountain jammed to one side of the cubbyhole, fighting a growing claustrophobic panic.16

  Parveen had no idea how long the journey had taken between the Hollow Mountain and their destination. Initially filled with terror, anxious that the Grey Agents might discover him as a stowaway, he had done his best to stay alert. Eventually, however, the lulling sound of the engines and the featureless dark of the compartment had conspired to drag him down into sleep.

  Now, it appeared, they had arrived at their destination. The low throbbing of engines, whose deep vibration had pervaded the entire craft, suddenly cut out. Parveen felt its absence pulsating in his bones.

  “Now what?” he whispered to himself. He had taken to talking to himself, just to keep from losing his grip. The fear and panic were so close to the surface. He had always thought he didn’t need any company, preferring to immerse himself in lonely study and solitary pursuits, but something had changed. Being part of the community of the Hollow Mountain, finding his sister again, and the adventures he’d experienced with Mimi and Hamish X had changed him. Now, in this dark coffin, he wished he could speak to anyone, see a familiar face.

  “I guess we’re on our own,” he said to the inert form of Noor, asleep or unconscious beside him. He couldn’t tell. Her breathing was regular and steady, but she didn’t stir as a normal sleeping person might. Parveen dug in his knapsack and fished out a small but powerful flashlight. He twisted it on and looked at his sister’s sleeping face.

  Her normally dark skin was pale and sickly. Her smooth black hair was gathered in a ponytail, coiled behind her head like a pillow.

  “I wish you’d wake up,” Parveen whispered. “I could use your help.”

  He shone the thin flashlight beam around the enclosed compartment. Just after he had crept into the cubbyhole with his sister, a hatch had slammed down, sealing them in. He had tried everything he could to open the hatch, but there was no catch on the inside. Even if there had been an inner access panel for the electronic lock, he didn’t have the tools to deal with it. He had explored every inch of the compartment and found only a small drain at one end, down by his sister’s feet, presumably t
o sluice away any unfortunate accidents the unconscious prisoners might have. Luckily, he had brought a couple of bottles of water and a number of protein bars. The bottles had come in handy when he found he couldn’t hold his bladder any longer. He’d had to use only one, so he reasoned that the trip hadn’t been too long, probably a day or two.

  Now, the trip appeared to be over. Parveen heard a clank and the rattle of chains on the hull of the compartment. With a hiss of escaping air, the hatch opened. Parveen cringed back, trying to make himself invisible at his sister’s feet, as far from the hatch as possible. Cold air flooded the compartment, carrying with it a faint whiff of plastic, oil, and some sort of disinfectant. The little boy blinked in the sudden blue-white glare of lights. His eyes, tuned to the almost total darkness of the compartment, watered behind his thick glasses. His hand dove into his knapsack, the fingers closing around one of his hamster bombs, waiting to toss it into the face of any Grey Agent who might thrust his or her way through the hatch.

  He sat, his muscles taut, adrenalin pumping, for more than a minute. Nothing happened. No face appeared. He relaxed his grip on the bomb and crept to the opening. Screwing up his courage, he peeked out.

  Down the length of the cargo pod, all of the hatches stood open. He watched as the last row of compartments unlocked with a sigh and their hatches folded neatly into the wall, disappearing through slits in the dull metal. A pale blue light washed in through the large open cargo door at the far end. The light was blindingly bright after the hours of darkness Parveen had endured. After a moment of adjustment, he was able to discern objects moving into the long corridor that ran the length of the cargo ship.

  Boxy shapes and trailing hoses and wires drifted into the cargo pod, hovering a few centimetres above the deck by some means Parveen couldn’t guess. “Robots equipped with magnetic repulsion units?” he mumbled. “Air cushions, perhaps.” Even in these moments of extreme danger, he couldn’t switch off the part of his mind that was fascinated with technology in all its forms. Several of the items floated in, dispersing along the length of the cargo pod. They appeared to be completely automated. There was no sign of a Grey Agent operating them. One by one, they stopped at a pre-ordained cubbyhole, moved in close, and with a click connected to the pallet under each unconscious child. The device then drifted back, lifting the entire pallet out, and trundled off out the cargo door to be replaced by another robot. They began to work their way down towards the cubbyhole that housed Noor.