Captain Nemo: The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius by Kevin J. Anderson Page A

and stuffed the heavy book inside his shirt, tight against his chest.
    Captain Grant stood on the raised quarterdeck, using his own spyglass to observe the approaching ship.   The sloop clearly intended to rendezvous with the Coralie .   The captain went into his cabin and emerged wearing a new jacket with bright brass buttons.
    Nemo made out the details of the sloop, a black hull with a line of tan at the waterline, six gunports on a side, and a single tall mast with long booms that kept the gaff-rigged mainsail extended.   Two squaresails had also been hoisted to give her greater speed to run before the wind.   A well-dressed man stood at the tiller -- a British captain? -- and others strutted across the deck wearing finery.   Some appeared to be ladies in colorful gowns made of oriental silk.   They waved cordially.
    Nemo knew a British ship wouldn’t be uncommon in the South China Sea.   Perhaps it was an opium trader; more likely, this sloop carried a group of ambassadors or colonists out on a pleasure cruise among the islands.  
    Captain Grant signaled the sloop and called all hands on deck to prepare for a meeting at sea, where they could exchange news and mail.   Nemo waited, breathless with anticipation, wondering what tidings the sloop might bring from the territories in Southeast Asia.  
    Unexpectedly, two of the women in bright dresses went to the mast and tugged ropes to draw down the Union Jack.   Nemo squinted through the spyglass, trying to see what they meant to do.   As the flag was lowered, two of the sailors on the Coralie ’s deck yelled a warning.
    Another flag ran up the sloop’s main mast -- a black banner sporting a crudely stitched skeleton and a bloody sword.
    The sloop’s six gunports opened up, and the ominous snouts of cannons protruded.   Nemo saw flashes of light and puffs of smoke as three cannons fired in successive, overloud drumbeats.
    The pirates’ first cannonball ripped through the Coralie ’s mainsail, leaving a smoldering hole.   The second ball crashed into the hull above the waterline, blasting one side of the upper cargo hold.   “They’ve heated the balls red-hot!” a sailor shouted.   The technique was devastating against wooden ships, easily starting the victim vessel on fire.   Crews quickly filled buckets to extinguish any sparks.
    The third cannonblast was the worst.   Its load contained chains and mauls, rods of metal that spun like sawblades, tearing into the rigging, severing ropes.   The sails flapped free.   One of the ratlines dangled like an amputated arm.   Fires began to burn on the Coralie ’s deck.
    The men belowdecks started to scream and shout.   When another cannon blast splintered the side of the mizzen mast, Nemo knew he had to get down from his vulnerable position.   His heart pounded, and he thought quickly.   Until now, the voyage had been marvelous and breathtaking.   Now, though, he wondered about the difference between adventure and danger.  
    The sloop full of pirates came closer, narrowing the distance as the Coralie wallowed, unable to flee.   The crew aboard shouted, preparing to fight for their lives.   Nemo swallowed hard and went to join them.
    Down below, Captain Grant’s weapons master managed to fire two of the starboard cannons, but the rapid approach of the pirate sloop made the range difficult to determine.   The cannonballs sailed past their target, only one of them tearing a hole through the pirates’ triangular foresail.
    Nemo used his spyglass again and saw the men aboard the sloop shedding their disguises of fine clothing, women’s dresses worn by younger pirates to lull the unsuspecting Coralie.  
    One of the raiders stood up, displaying gaudy clothes, a scarlet sash, and a striking black tricorne hat -- obviously the captain.   The pirate leader’s nose and ears had been sliced off, giving him a cadaverous appearance that made Nemo’s heart freeze.   He had heard of pirate justice, how a