he candlelight glinted off the evil blade pressed to Ruby's throat, as well as the glint of evil in Fleetwood's eyes. It also illuminated the captain's uniform he was wearing, as well as the hefty men clustered behind him at the door. Most were recognisable as being the crew from the Pride of Plymouth who had allied themselves with the authority of Johnson rather than the cause of Hartwell.

   "I see you have been promoted, Mister Fleetwood," said Hartwell evenly. "Congratulations. I never knew rats could rise so high."

   "Admiral Johnson appreciates quality and loyalty," snapped Fleetwood.

   "And no doubt he doesn't object to a sycophant agreeing with every word he utters," interrupted Fitch in contempt.

   Fleetwood's lips twisted in hatred. "Our goals are the same," he snarled.

   "The goal of running a private slave trade under the cover of stopping the slave trade? Or do you mean your shared objective is the treacherous hypocrisy inherent in such an enterprise?" asked Hartwell.

   "Oh, you may talk with all your wit and moral superiority, but the truth is that money talks loudest and man was put here to rule or to be ruled and I know on which side I belong."

   "What is this about slavery?" demanded Mechatronic in an aside to Susanna, who quickly explained.

   "And this man Fleetwood?" asked Mechatronic. "He was part of your crew?"

   "Unfortunately," muttered Fitch. "He's clearly seized the chance to further ingratiate himself with Johnson."

   "Disgraceful," snapped Bardon, snapping to attention. "Such behaviour is against all laws of common humanity and decency."

   "Quite agree," squeaked Anatole, glaring at Fleetwood.

   "Slavers?" said Blake, after Keating had repeated the gist of the conversation to him at full volume in his ear. "Scum!"

   "Gerhv fnackern," agreed Lucky Pete.

   Hartwell glanced around him and wasn't surprised to see that Anatole, Bardon, Keating, Blake and Lucky Pete had all allied themselves with him, while the majority of the men, who only moments before had been claiming to be ready to sign up as his new crew, had already melted away through a side door.

   "How did you know we'd come here?" demanded Fitch.

   "Where else would you go?" asked Fleetwood rhetorically. "I begged the Admiral the favour of taking the Plymouth from the fleet and getting here ahead of you, no hard task given that wreck of a ship you escaped on, and waited for you to appear.

   "The Plymouth is hidden on the other side of the island. Once we have dealt with you, we shall scuttle that ship of yours and no one will ever know what happened here. The official record will show that Captain Hartwell mutinied and died a coward's death along with his crew."

   "Your argument is with me, not my crew," said Hartwell. "If you let them go, you can do what you want with me."

   "Don't you dare try and bargain with that rodent for our sakes," interrupted Fitch. "We all joined you for what was right and that hasn't changed. Right is still right."

   "Well said, Mister Fitch," said Susanna, placing her hand on his arm. "Better die in honour than live in shame like Fleetwood."

   "I will enjoy my shame, Miss Hartwell," leered Fleetwood. "And I'll enjoy your deaths so very, very much."

   "You'd better get out," whispered Fitch to Anatole and the others. "This is not your fight."

   "It is," squeaked Anatole. "Though I know not how to fight, I will stand with any who oppose the slave trade."

   "I'd rather meet my end for a good cause than be brutalised by some drunken thug in this place," said Keating with feeling, thus revealing why she was so desperate to escape. From the moment she began to develop physically, the dangers had developed also for the young girl trapped on the island.

   "This is our fight," added Bardon. "This is the fight of every honourable citizen."

   "Slavers," growled Blake simply, his hand on the dagger at his belt.

   "Gurwan im euen omay unand," observed Lucky Pete.

   "What did he say?" asked Susanna of Mechatronic.

   " 'There comes a time when you must make a stand,' " said Mechatronic, a strange emotion on her face, though only Susanna could see it under her hood and only Hartwell could hear it in her voice.

   "Gurwan im euen no nop oong,"

   " 'There comes a time when you must stop running.' "

   "The empty, meaningless words of the losers," screeched Fleetwood. "Have you nothing real to say?"

   "Ouanargh oant!" said Lucky Pete to Fleetwood's face.

   "I think you all got the gist of that one," said Mechatronic. "I am truly sorry, Captain, but I can do little or nothing to help you. I am still too badly damaged from the crash to be of assistance. I believe this is where my journey finally ends. I, at least, have the comfort that I spent my final day with you, your sister and your crew. I experienced something more than a mere continuation of life."

   She gazed at Hartwell's face as she spoke and each saw the same sadness reflected there—a sadness that encompassed not only the impending death of all in the room, but also the fact that she and Hartwell would never get to know each other.