Alexander Belyaev - The Amphibian

Baltasar had jumped up from his stool and started pacing up and down the shop, all but treading on the crabs and shells on the floor. “My son! My son! Oh, what a misfortune! “ “Why a misfortune?” asked Cristo, surprised.

“I’ve listened to you, now you listen to me. While you were laid up with your fever Gutierrez was married to Pedro Zurita.” The news made Cristo stagger.

“And Ichthyander, my poor son,” Baltasar said, hanging his head, “is in Zurita’s hands.”

“Impossible, “said Cristo.

“Yes. Ichthyander’s on board the Jellyfish. This morning Zurita was here to see me. He laughed and swore at us. He said we’d been cheating him. Just think, he caught Ichthyander all on his own, without any help from us. He won’t pay us anything. But I wouldn’t have taken anything from him anyway. I’m not selling my own son.”

Baltasar, distraught, dashed about the shop. Cristo eyed him disapprovingly. It was a case of all hands to the pump. But Baltasar could sooner ruin things, taking on like that. Himself, Cristo did not believe much in Baltasar’s fatherhood. True he had seen that birthmark on the newly-born. But was that enough to build a whole case on? Seeing a similar birth mark on Ichthyander’s neck he had decided to cash in on it. How could he have known Baltasar would carry on like a madman. And then the news he had learned from Baltasar had given him quite a scare.

“No time for tears now. We’ve got to act. Salvator’s coming tomorrow at dawn. Brace up and listen. You will wait for me at dawn on the breakwater. We’ve got to save Ichthyander. But, mind now, don’t go and tell Salvator you’re Ichthyan-der’s father. Where’s Zurita bound for?”

“He didn’t say but I think it’s north. He made up his mind long ago to go up to the coast of Panama.” Cristo nodded.

“So remember, you’re to be up and on the breakwater by first light. And stick around there even if you have to wait till nightfall.”

Cristo hurried home. All that night he thought of the meeting with Salvator. There was no way out. He had to face it and have a good story ready. Salvator arrived at dawn. As he was greeting his master, Cristo’s face wore an expression ofdistressed loyalty.

“We’ve had a misfortune,” he said, “I warned Ichthyander not to swim out into the gulf…”

“What’s happened to him?” Salvator asked impatiently.

“He was captured and taken on board a schooner. I-”

Salvator had gripped Cristo’s shoulders and was peering closely into his eyes. Short as it lasted, Cristo could not help changing colour under that searching glance. Then Salvator knitted his brows, muttered something and unclenched his hands.

“You will tell me about it in detail later.”

Then he called a Black, said a few words to him in a language Cristo did not know and again turned to the Indian.

“Follow me! “ Salvator ordered.

Without resting from the journey or even changing his travelling clothes, Salvator strode out of the house and across the garden. Cristo could hardly keep up with him. At the third wall two Blacks caught up with them.

“I watched over Ichthyander day and night, like a dog,” Cristo was saying, panting. “I never left his side…” But Salvator would not listen to him. Standing at the pool he was tapping his foot impatiently as he watched the water gush out through the yawning hatches.

“Follow me,” Salvator ordered again and hurried down the steps that led underground. Cristo and the two Blacks followed the doctor into the darkness. Salvator ran down the steps, taking two at a time, apparently quite at home in the maze of subterranean passages.

On the bottom landing Salvator did not turn on the light as once before but, after a moment’s feeling about with his hand, opened a door to Ms right and strode on along a dark corridor. There were no steps there and, despite complete darkness, Salvator was going very quick now.

I hope to God there are no man-traps here, Cristo was thinking, hurrying after Salvator. They had been going quite a long time when Cristo felt the floor begin to slope down gently. He thought he could hear a faint splash of water. Then their journey was over. Salvator who was well ahead of them had stopped and switched on the light. Cristo found himself in a large cave, standing on a piece of stone flooring set into the big oblong of water that converged with the sloping ceiling at the far end. On the water, at the edge of the flooring Cristo saw a midget submarine. The little party went on board the boat. Salvator switched on the light in the cabin, while one Black was battening down the upper hatch and the other revving the engine. Cristo felt the boat shudder, slowly turn round, submerge and as slowly move forward. After two minutes or so they surfaced. Salvator and Cristo came out on deck. Cristo had never been on board a submarine before and looked round with interest.

“Where are Ichthyander’s captors heading?”

“Up north, along the coast,” said Cristo. “I hope you will forgive my boldness, master, if I suggest you take my brother along. He’s been warned and is waiting on the shore.”

“Whatever for?”

“Ichthyander was captured by the pearl trader Zurita-”

“How do you know all this?” Salvator took him up short.

“I described the schooner to my brother and he was sure it was Pedro Zurita’s Jellyfish. My guess is Zurita wants to use Ichthyander for pearl-diving. And Baltasar-that’s my brother-knows all there is to know about the pearling grounds round here. Youll find him useful.”

Salvator pondered.

“Good. We’ll take your brother along.”

The boat veered shorewards where Baltasar could already be seen waiting to be picked up. From the breakwater Baltasar looked, frowningly, at the man who had stolen and mutilated his son. However, when the submarine came nearer inshore, he bowed politely to Salvator, before wading aboard.

“Full speed ahead! “ ordered Salvator.

He stayed on deck, planted firmly, peering into the wide ocean.

THE EXTRAORDINARY PRISONER

Zurita removed Ichthyander’s manacles as he had promised, gave him some clothes and took him to the river where he even let him collect his gloves and goggles. But as soon as they were on board the Jellyfish Ichthyander was seized by the crew, acting on Zurita’s orders, and locked in the hold. At Buenos Aires Zurita made a short stop to take on stores. He went to see Baltasar to show off his luck and then pulled out of harbour and hugged the coast, making for Rio de Janeiro. He intended to run north the length of South America and only start pearl-diving in the Caribbean Sea.

Gutierrez he had accommodated in the captain’s cabin. He had assured her that he had let Ichthyander go in the Rio de la Plata. However she soon knew it wasn’t true. In the evening Gutierrez heard faint cries and recognized Ichthyander’s voice. She was alone in the cabin and when she tried to go out she found the door locked. She drummed with her fists on it and shouted but nobody paid the least attention.

Hearing Ichthyander’s cries Zurita let out a string of coarse oaths, left the bridge and, followed by an Indian sailor, went down below into the dark and stuffy hold.

“What the hell are you yelling for?” Zurita asked.

“I’m-I’m suffocating,” Ichthyander’s voice came up to him. “I can’t live without water. It’s too stuffy here. Let me swim away. I won’t last to see the morning.”

Zurita clanged the hatch in place and came on deck. Suppose he really does croak, he thought worriedly. There’s no good in that.

He ordered a barrel to be lowered into the hold and pumped full of water.

“Here’s a bath for you,” Zurita said to Ichthyander. “You can have your swim. And tomorrow I’ll let you swim in the sea.”