The Pieces of My Self

45 - Île Sauvage

LILLIAN

Knightly's Mansion, 21 June 2174, Tuesday, Early Morning

I was still hyperventilating as I gathered the kids and prepared to flee the mansion. Some tough hombres were after us, and I had no idea how we would survive. On the positive side, I had a spooky, humorless robot as a bodyguard.

"Is there a ghost in the robot?" Amara asked.

Her simple question was also on my mind. "We don't know why it's acting this way, honey, but I don't think it's a ghost. Grady, can you help strap your sister in the car?"

Usher transferred my suitcases and backpack to Knightly's limo. Debra came with a small overnight bag, and we all climbed aboard, with Usher seated near the controls.

A few minutes before 2 am, our car rolled into the East Covington Marina, crunching gravel as it pulled to a stop next to a ramp. We got out and clustered around a sign that read Access Restricted to Authorized Personnel.

The floating docks swayed gently under a half moon and a flotilla of spotlights around the grid of walkways. It was a pretty scene if you could take the time to appreciate it. We were sort of in a rush.

I asked Usher to move our bags to the boat. That was when Debra grabbed my arm and Remy's.

"We should leave the robot here," Debra whispered to me. "I don't feel comfortable around something that sounds like Henri but isn't."

"Sorry," I said. "It has to come. I have the ring and other people want it. The robot's my best chance for survival."

Zeke agreed. "When they find Tony tomorrow, he'll tell them where we're going, and make up some fanciful story, with us as villains. Usher already knows too much to be left behind."

"Then we destroy its memory," Debra said in a quiet, authoritative voice, talking across me as if I were a ghost. "Zeke, you've got to help me. Lillian can't be making all the decisions."

"I've got the top card here," I said. "You can't stop me from protecting my children."

"Use the gun, Zeke." she said.

Usher watched us from the entrance to the docks, black eyes focused on Zeke. Waiting.

Zeke laughed, looked up at the night sky, sighed, then faced the robot. "I guess you weren't paying attention this evening, Debra. The machine is her protector. Exactly how do you expect me to use my pistol? Didn't you see how that works? This is a Sentinel-class machine, and right now it's paying close attention to us. To me, the guy with the gun. I don't have any high-powered weapons on me. Do you?"

Debra responded by shrugging, then moving toward the docks, as if her words were merely a hypothetical of little consequence.

Zeke led us to the Redemption, and we scrambled aboard.

"Hey, kids," I said. "Say goodbye to Covington."

* * *

I wrapped my arms around Grady and Amara, as much to steady myself as help them as we accelerated.

Amara fretted as we moved out of the bay into deeper water. "Um, um, um. Will there be alley gators?"

I hugged her tighter. "Of course not. We're just going on a little vacation. We'll be fine."

My sixth sense told me Grady was probably rolling his eyes.

I felt his arm reach across my lap to touch Amara. "Don't worry, I'll protect you," he said.

After an hour, the kids relaxed and drifted to sleep, with Amara cuddled in Grady's arms. Debra seemed to be missing. I guessed she had gone below.

I climbed into the cockpit and sat next to Zeke. "You've turned off your lights. How can you see where you're going?"

"I could sail this route blindfolded," he said, looking over from the wheel. "In the old days, when me and Henri started up Blackbird, we needed a lotta things from Texas and Mexico—things we couldn't get in Loumissala. We traveled this passage a lot."

"You aren't in Blackbird anymore. Are there are still things you need?"

He laughed at my question. "I've changed my business model. Now, it's more of a self-help thing. But yes, we have commerce with Texas, Mexico, and other places."

We chugged ahead into the night. I couldn't see much except black sky blending with dark water. We were Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, riding our little boat across the stars and a sea of dew, suspended in space.

"Even at full throttle, this boat is pretty damn slow," I said. "Does the Border Patrol ever catch you?"

"The boat has to look normal when you leave Covington. Slow is fine for an area where the government has the upper hand because of sensors, scouts, and firepower. But from our camp, we use faster boats—we call them scoot boats—to get through the marshy waterways south of Baton Rouge, into Vermilion Bay, the Gulf of Mexico, and the ports we do business with."

It made sense. Zeke and Henri started the business by collaborating with smugglers and never ended the connection.

Twenty miles out from Covington, the southeastern sky began to lighten. Zeke pointed out some landmarks: an old church, now up to its windowsills in water; an above-ground graveyard with iron fences, fallen crosses, and open crypts; and patches of alluvial ground nested between forests of black tupelo, red maple, and bald cypress. We were now on his turf.

He slowed as we entered the Wild. After an hour of zigzagging through the swamp, he slid the boat into what looked like a finger of water penetrating a drapery of vines. Protective tree canopies stretched above the gumbo of mud, green water, and fetid plant debris.

I gently shook the children, waking them up as we reached a dock.

Debra was below deck, head resting on a life vest. "We're here," I said. "Rise and shine."

Everyone disembarked, with Usher carrying my luggage. Zeke led our group across moss-covered wooden planks that skimmed the dark-green water. We walked through an arcade of brush, swatting at mosquitoes, finally arriving at a building on stilts, hidden among tall mangroves with tangled roots.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"This is Île Sauvage," he said, loud enough so the others could hear. "It was inhabited a century ago by Houmas. When the water rose, it reshaped the island, and folks abandoned it. Now the place has mostly returned to wilderness, except for my camp."

"I'm not surprised you ended up here, Zeke," Debra said, sweeping her arms in all directions. "It's so uncivilized."

"It's not your mansion. I'll give you that," Zeke said. "But for me, it's freedom."

Debra, in her black evening gown, sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. "Is there a way to dial back the bugs?"

He ignored her barb. "Grab your things and walk straight through to the main building. You'll find breakfast food and water there. I'll be back in a few minutes and show you to your quarters. Right now, I need to hide the boat."

I took a deep breath, sniffing the aroma of freedom. And change.