“You mean, Max, that all life in the world’s oceans could be dead within a few days?”
Max didn’t need to answer.
Overcome by anxiety, Sabatina pulled her spiky hair even further away from her head. “And life on land will soon follow,” she said. “Marine life is a source of protein for billions of humans, and it’s indispensable to the atmosphere and the climate. This may be the end of life on Earth as we know it.”
It was a horrific possibility: what looked like a spill of dark-red paint on one side of the holographic planet was potentially as significant as whatever it was that had brought extinction to the dinosaurs.
“Max, can this be reversed?” Sabatina asked.
“There be several ways to kills algae, none biologically safe or particularly quick. I will gets working on the problem.”
“Good.”
Sabatina knew that she had to be patient. She had great faith in Max’s ability to analyse data and to come up with solutions that promised the best probability of success.
“What I would like to know is: what, or who, is responsible for this? Can you start looking into that as well? Meanwhile, I’d like to discuss this with my husband. Perhaps someone working with Uranus on this ‘biobooms’ project secretly took it further.”
She suddenly realised what a shock this would be to their old friend.
“Oh, Uranus would be so upset!”
Chapter 8
AT THE ARCHIVES
Anna often found school dull. She’d tried to persuade her parents to keep her at home, and let Max and Ton teach her. And as far as living on an island went, she argued, swimming and fishing were all the skills she needed to survive.
On his days off, Ton liked to hang around the little harbours of the neighbouring islands, and he’d learnt both the local methods of fishing and the best spots. Every couple of days he swopped his suit for a wetsuit and waded into the bay to inspect the basket trap he’d exchanged for a tin of coconut fudge from a friend. Basket traps were a kind way of catching fish because they only trapped the large and tasty ones – other reef creatures that swam in to inspect the trap could be released without being harmed.
And Max had taught Anna more about science than any of the teachers at school. He could conjure up holographic images of almost everything, which made him the most exciting teacher in the world. He often projected Einstein’s lion-haired image while lecturing her on quantum physics, and he whizzed planets past her head as he taught her the laws of perpetual motion. Nevertheless, her parents had insisted that she go to school like any ordinary child.
“You must learn to socialise with children of your own age,” her mother had said, and her father had agreed that interaction with the island community was important to understanding the complicated relationships between humans and nature.
“You have to know both sides of the argument, Pumpkin!” he would say. “Humans need food, shelter and entertainment. People will only look after the environment when their basic needs have been satisfied. Poverty and conservation don’t go together well.”
He was right. The other children living on the islands were clearly more interested in games, gadgets and television than conserving their beautiful environment. Although they were generally kind to animals, the boys often poached shells from nature reserves to sell to tourists for a bit of pocket money. Anna’s main gripe was the littering: bits of polystyrene, empty bottles and plastic bags were abandoned along the roads, and heaps of nondegradable junk disgraced the islands’ beautiful picnic spots. The sea surrounding the main island was slowly turning into a refuse dump. Plastic bags were caught on the coral heads and waved their pale tatters dismally in the current.
At school, Anna’s day was not going well. Twice already she’d got into trouble from Mr Skerret for not paying attention in Life Science class. And during break she had a fierce argument with Danny, a rude boy in grade 6, over a chip packet he’d left crumpled on a wooden bench.
Anna was feeling grumpy and impatient. She had pirates on her mind.
Three hundred years ago, the Indian Ocean had been the hunting ground of several formidable privateers, or pirates as they are called today. Rumour had it that pirate treasure was still hidden on the islands, and people had spent their lives and fortunes hunting for it.
Anna knew that Hodoul was the most famous pirate to have sailed that part of the ocean. He’d retired from piracy a rich man, and made his home on one of the islands, where he’d become a successful and respected plantation owner. Anna had visited his grave in the old cemetery above the town, carefully kept by his great-great-grandchildren, who now lived peacefully on the islands. She had heard that although Hodoul was a pirate, he’d been kind and just, had treated his prisoners fairly and had helped the poor. He’d loved the islands and worried about the damage the early colonists were doing to the local plants and animals. He’d tried to stop the relentless felling of trees for timber, and had warned that tortoises would become extinct if sold in such numbers to passing ships for their meat.
All this information was buzzing in Anna’s head and so that afternoon, as soon as school was finished, she set off. She caught a bus into the old part of town, almost running the last bit of the way to the library that housed the archives.
Madame Savy, a plump woman with a friendly smile, looked up in surprise as Anna entered.
“Why, hello! The admiral’s daughter!” she said. “You know, your dad used to visit me almost every afternoon when he was about your age. Is this a case of like father, like daughter? He was fascinated by the old sea captains’ logs, maps and all the other paraphernalia we keep here. I was still very young then,” she giggled. “I’d just started working here.”
Anna felt a bit uncomfortable. “May I have a look at the section on Hodoul, Madame Savy?”
“Ah! A treasure hunt!” Madame Savy nodded. “Follow me. If you can find something no one else has found these past two hundred years, I will be surprised. But come, come, you’re welcome to try!”
Anna followed Madame Savy along a short corridor and down some steps. In a large air-conditioned room, rows of steel racks housed boxes of all shapes and sizes. Each one was neatly labelled. Madame Savy led Anna to a shelf at the back of the room, which was marked ‘Privateers’. On this shelf, box files were neatly arranged in alphabetical order: Avery, Edwards, and Hodoul!
“It’s a bit of a coincidence that you came looking for Hodoul today. There was another man here just yesterday –” She was interrupted by a phone ringing upstairs. “Excuse me. Feel free to scratch around but please leave everything as you’ve found it!” And with a few clicks of her heels she was gone.
Anna studied the neatly typed index that was glued to the front of the first box. Two looked promising: a map of Hodoul’s most important journeys and a copy of his diary.
A diary’s a great place to start searching, Anna thought.
She tipped the box from the shelf and peered inside. What a mess! The papers in the box looked like somebody had stuffed them in without the slightest care.
She took the box to a table and sat down to unpack the contents. There were letters written by the pirate to family and friends, orders for stores, lists of items packed into ships in preparation of voyages, notices of ships captured that appeared in government gazettes, and loads of other interesting bits of the puzzle that was the pirate’s life.
But