The Other Log of Phileas Fogg

13

The ship which Fogg took for San Francisco was the General Grant. This belonged to the Pacific Mail Steamship Company and was a paddle wheel steamer also fitted with three masts bearing large sails. At an expected speed of twelve miles an hour, it would cross the Pacific in twenty-one days. Fogg calculated that he would disembark at San Francisco on the second of December. From there he would travel by train to New York City, arriving on the eleventh of December. From New York he would take a ship to England. The twentieth of December would see him in London, ahead of the required arrival date of the twenty-first.

Verne says that, nine days after leaving Yokohama, on the twenty-third of November, the ship crossed the 180th meridian. Fogg had gone exactly halfway around the Earth since this imaginary line was at the antipodes of London. Though Fogg had only twenty-eight days to traverse the second half of his journey, he had actually completed two-thirds of his circuit. To get to the 180th meridian, he had been forced to make long detours. But the course from then on would he comparatively straight.

On this twenty-third of November, according to Verne, Passepartout made a happy discovery. His watch, which he had not adjusted to the various time zones, now agreed with the sun.

Passepartout, Verne says, did not know that if the face of his watch had been divided into twenty-four hours (like Italian watches), the hands of his watch would have indicated the true chronometry. They would have shown him that it was not nine in the morning but nine in the evening. That is, they would indicate the twenty-first hour after midnight, exactly the difference between London time and that of the 180th meridian.

As we know, Fogg had no watches, having expended them in Bundelcund. Verne did not know of the incident at the rajah’s palace, but he also says nothing at this time of Fogg having a watch. Why this gentleman, who conducted himself strictly by the chronometer, lacked a timepiece, Verne does not say.

Fix had stayed in his cabin until the twenty-third, when he felt that he must leave it or go mad. While walking on the forward deck, he ran into Passepartout. He also ran into blows of the fist from the seemingly enraged valet. Passepartout was genuinely angry at the trick that Fix had played on him. But even if he had not been, he would have pretended to be. The role he was playing demanded it. Besides, if Fix were a Capellean, it was fun to pummel him.

Fix tried to defend himself but soon found that the Frenchman was the superior boxer. Lying on the deck, he said, “Are you finished?”

“Yes-for this time,” Passepartout said.

“Then let me have a word with you.”

“But I…”

“In your master’s interest.”

They sat down in an area distant from the other passengers, who had regarded the encounter with enthusiasm, some even making bets.

“You’ve thrashed me,” Fix said. “Good. I expected it. Now listen. Until now I’ve been Mr. Fogg’s adversary. But I’m now in this with him.”

“Aha! You’re convinced he’s an honest man!”

What the devil is this one up to now? he was thinking.

“No,” Fix said coldly. “I think he’s a rascal.”

He proceeded to tell Passepartout his plan, which was to help Fogg win his bet. He would, however, only be doing this so he could get him back on English soil. There it would be determined whether or not Fogg was innocent.

“Are we friends now?” Fix said.

“No,” Passepartout said. “Allies-perhaps. At the least sign of treachery, I’ll twist your neck.”

Passepartout had a double meaning in his threat, of course.

Verne then says that, eleven days later, on the third of December, the ship entered the bay of the Golden Gate. Mr. Fogg had not gained or lost a day.

This is true, but Verne did not know what happened the next few days after Fix was knocked to the deck.

While we do not know exactly what Fix and the gray-eyed man were up to during the time they were out of Passepartout’s and Fogg’s sight, we can reconstruct their activities from Fogg’s other log.

At one in the morning, Passepartout was wakened from a fretful somnolence by the ringing sounds from the watch at his ear. He listened for a moment, ascertaining that the series of sounds formed no code he recognized. He hastily put on some clothes and left the cabin. He did not observe the figure standing in the shadow of one of the large lifeboats on davits some fifty feet away.

He was standing watch because Fix was in bed with diarrhea and a high fever. Nemo was not pleased with this course of events, both because it was inconvenient and because it showed him that Nature was even stronger than he. And since he did not care to be seen by any of Fogg’s party, he could not leave the cabin when the sun was up. He did have a disguise available. The beard was actually a false one, which he could discard in favor of a false moustache. A wig would give him the appearance of a man approaching old age, and putty would make his nose bulbous. To remove the noticeable wide spacing between the eyes, he had a set of glass eyes to which he attached false eyelids and flesh-colored false skin. The glass eyes were thin shells with blue irises, one-way glass which both the Capelleans and Eridaneans had inherited from the Old Ones along with a few other devices far in advance of Earthling science. These could be set within the hollows of his eyes so that his eyes seemed to be closer together.

Unfortunately, half of the vision of each eye was obstructed. Nemo did not like to use them unless the situation absolutely demanded that he do so. He had elected to stay in his quarters, coming out only at night. Now he was just about to light a cheroot when he saw the Frenchman’s cabin door. If it had opened a few seconds later, Passepartout would have seen the light of his match. Cursing (his way of delivering thanks for having been saved from observation), he replaced the cheroot in its case. From his belt he drew a Colt revolver.

He had hoped he would not have to use it, since the noise might alarm the occupants of cabins near Fogg’s. He waited hidden in the shadow of the lifeboat until Passepartout had knocked on Fogg’s door and been admitted. He started toward Fogg’s cabin but had to dodge back under the lifeboat. The door had swung open again. Passepartout emerged and went to Aouda’s cabin, next to Fogg’s, and knocked. There was an exchange of words, which Nemo could not hear, through the crack by the slightly opened door. Nemo supposed that Aouda was requiring Passepartout to give a password, even though she must recognize his voice. In less than two minutes, Aouda came out dressed in a robe, her black hair hanging to her waistline. Both disappeared into Fogg’s cabin.

Nemo walked softly to the door and applied to it a stethoscopic device, another inheritance from the Old Ones. The moonlight falling on his features, showed his alarm, followed by a look of determination. Though he hated to make the noise, there was only one way to enter the cabin. He lifted his right boot and gave the lock a mighty kick. Few locks could have stood up under a kick from Nemo, who was extremely powerful. The lock tore out, and the door banged into the wall with Nemo swiftly leaping through the doorway.

A glance showed him that the three were unarmed. They were sitting at a table. Passepartout’s watch, illumined by the swinging petroleum lamp attached to the ceiling, lay on the table. That it was there confirmed Nemo’s suspicions that it contained a distorter. In the silence that followed his crashing entrance, he could hear, faintly, the ringings from the watch. And he recognized the Capellean code.

Nemo, pointing the revolver at them, shut the door behind him. Passepartout started to rise. Nemo shook his head. The Frenchman sat down. His eyes and Aouda’s were wide, and their skins were pale. Fogg sat as still as if he were in a tintype. His was the only calm face at the table.

“You will slowly rise and move over against the bulkhead,” Nemo said. “You will then slowly turn around until you face it. You will then place your palms flatly against the bulkhead.”

Though he voiced no curses, he must have been thinking them. The pulses indicated an immediate and emergency action for any Capellean possessing a distorter. Nemo would not have ignored any such call, even from the lowliest. This message was sent by the highest chief of them all. It was directed at the Capellean who was bringing the recently found distorter from China. But it also pleaded that anyone else who might possess a distorter should use it if the Chinese agent failed to reply.

Whoever answered was to set his device on transmit, though he must, of course, make sure that no one would come across it while it was left unguarded. That the chief would allow a distorter to be left behind showed how desperate the occasion was. Moreover, that the chief thought that the rajah of Bundelcund was still alive but was willing to take a chance on being transmitted by him indicated the desperation of his situation.

Also, the chief said, if at all possible, bring two men. Three would be preferable, but he could manage with two. He did not say why he wanted the two men.

He would prefer that all be Capellean, but if that was not possible, the man in China-or whoever else might be listening in-must pick up two Earthlings at gun’s point and bring them along.

Nemo, having been out of touch with other Capelleans so long, did not know what was behind the message. But it changed his plans for the three Eridaneans. Why did Fix have to be sick at this time? Someone had to be at this end to insure that Nemo and the chief would be transmitted back if need be. If they were not, then Fix would have to take care of the distorter. They were too valuable to lose.

And why did not the Chinese agent answer? Was he sleeping? Was he drunk? Was he in the hands of bandits? Or, horrible thought, had he been taken by Eridaneans? If so, they would have the distorter, and even if they did not know the Capellean code, they could set the distorter on receive on the chance of scooping up whoever was at the other end. Or, even more unthinkable, they might transmit a group of heavily armed men.

Still, the intelligence report was that the Eridaneans only had one distorter left. And that was on the table before him. But intelligence reports were not always reliable.

Nemo wanted to go to the chief’s aid at once, but he had to make certain preparations which would take at least ten minutes. Perhaps fifteen.

At his orders, Passepartout tore the bed sheets into strips. While he was doing this, Nemo, using one hand, pressed the watch stem to send a message to the chief. Then he held the gun on Passepartout while the Frenchman bound his master’s hands behind him and his ankles together. Aouda then tied up Passepartout in similar fashion. Nemo struck her over the head and bound her. With the three strips left over, he gagged the three. For a moment he contemplated using his knife to finish them but decided against it. The chief wanted three bodies, but he needed them alive and able. Very well, he would get them.

First, he must make sure that they could not roll over and so get out of the door, which could not now be locked. He tore off other strips and bound the legs of the three together. Then he soaked the clothes of the three with petroleum from one swinging lamp. He set three other lamps near them so that if they moved in any direction, the vapors from the oil would be ignited by the flames of the three burning lamps.

He pocketed the watch and, closing the door behind him, went after Fix.

Fix was in a half-delirium. When he finally understood what Nemo wanted of him, he protested. He could not possibly walk to Fogg’s cabin and then carry the watch back to his own cabin.

“Then you will crawl,” Nemo said. “But you had better run, since the noise is going to wake up the entire ship. If you fail to get away with the watch, you will die. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I just can’t do it,” Fix muttered.

“Then you will die now,” Nemo said.

Fix tried to get out of his bed but fell on the floor.

Nemo swore at him. Nature was proving once more that she was stronger than he.

Or had she?

He picked up Fix and hoisted him over his shoulders and carried him out onto the deck. He hoped that he would encounter no insomniacs strolling the deck, or any of the crew. If he did, he could explain that his friend was drunk and that he was making sure he got to his bed. But he did not want any strange events to be observed by anyone who might remember after the uproar had died down.

If Nature was against him that night, so was that other lady, Chance.

An officer did see him with his burden when he was halfway to Fogg’s cabin.

Nemo explained that Fix had been sleeping on the deck and was either drunk or sick. He was returning him to his cabin.

“You are going the wrong way,” the officer said. “Mr. Fix has his quarters back there.”

“Ah, yes,” Nemo said. “I must have gotten turned around.”

“I doubt that Mr. Fix is inebriated,” the officer said. “He has been very sick, as you must know if you are a friend of his. No doubt, he wandered out onto the deck in a delirium. I will call the doctor and make sure that he is restrained. And I’ll see he has a nurse.”

“You are very kind,” Nemo said, wondering if he could kill the officer and drop him over the railing.

That was taken care of a moment later when they encountered a sailor. The officer insisted that the sailor help Nemo carry Fix back to the cabin. The sailor stood by while the officer went off to rouse the doctor and a nurse. Nemo wished to leave at once but knew that the crewmen would think it strange if he did not show concern for his “friend.”

He was not, however, restrained from signaling to his chief the changed situation. He went into the water closet, took out the watch, and sent the coded message. The chief replied that he was not in that much of a hurry now that he knew help was on its way. Nemo wished to ask where the chief was and why he needed so many people, but he heard the doctor enter and thought it better not to stay in the closet too long. He had to get back to Fogg’s cabin.

Even so, six more minutes passed before he was able to leave. The captain himself appeared and demanded an account. Nemo gave it. The captain seemed to be satisfied. Nemo said that he would look in on Fix in the morning, and he said good night. He hurried back hoping that Fix would be well enough in the morning to go to Fogg’s cabin and pick up the watch. After all, it would be taped to the underside of the table. Even if the crew investigated the cabin, which they might well do once they observed the broken lock, they might not see the watch. Fix could gain entrance later and remove it.

He also hoped that the three Eridaneans would not decide to sacrifice themselves. If they set themselves afire, they would defeat his intention of taking them along. And the fire would bring the attention of the ship to that cabin.

If that happened, then he would go to his own cabin and transport himself to the chief. If need be, they could come back to the General Grant. It would mean a change in plans, which the chief evidently did not wish. But that could not be helped.

Nemo also wondered where the chief had gotten his distorter. As far as he knew, the one found in China was the only one the Capelleans possessed. But he did not know everything. That cursed secrecy was an evil not always necessary.

With such thoughts, he entered Fogg’s cabin.

The next few empty moments, he had no thoughts at all.

The empty lamp swung against his head as he entered.

When he awoke, he was lying tied up in a fetal position on the table. He knew then that they had taken the distorter from him and secured it to the underside of the table on which he lay.

Passepartout, at Fogg’s bidding, looked outside. On returning he said, “No Fix in sight, sir. Could Fix be what he claims to be? Surely, if he were a Capellean, Nemo would have called him to his assistance? He would need him to guard the distorter.”

“That could well be,” Fogg said. “You will inquire after him sometime this morning. After we return.”

Passepartout said, “You are determined to carry out this, if I may say so, mad project?”

“I am.”

“Will I be accompanying you and this man, sir?”

“Assuredly.”

“We were lucky last time, sir. But now…”

“We must find out what is behind this.”

Passepartout sighed but said no more.

On a chair lay the weapons which had been taken from various hiding places in Nemo’s clothing. There was a knife which had been strapped to his left leg, another in a scabbard on his right leg, one in a sheath suspended from his belt in the rear, and a small cylindrical object the function of which Nemo declined to explain. Passepartout, however, found out how to operate the thing. A small slide on its side, if pressed, would obviously discharge the cylinder’s contents from a hole at the other end. Pointing the end close to Nemo’s face, he said, “Now, sir, please illuminate me. Or I will activate this and so possibly extinguish you.”

Passepartout had no intention of doing so, since Nemo might wish to die to escape questioning. Nemo suspected this, but he could not be sure. And he did not intend to commit suicide unless he were in a far more hopeless situation.

“It will expel a stream of cyanide,” he said.

“Very clever,” Passepartout said. He gave it to Aouda to use in case Fix should appear.

Fogg said, “Miss Jejeebhoy, you will reset the distorter for receive a minute after we are gone. But I do not believe that you should stay in this cabin. The door cannot be locked, and we can’t be sure that Fix won’t be coming along. As soon as we’ve made the transit, you will take the distorter to your cabin and tape it to the underside of your table.”

“Why not leave this man…”

“Nemo,” Fogg said.

“This Nemo here?”

“I do not trust him, however capable Miss Jejeebhoy is,” Fogg said. “He has enormous strength and great intelligence and resourcefulness. If we could get loose from our bonds while unobserved, he might be able to do so, observed or not.”

Nemo had been hoping that they would reveal just how they had gotten loose, but they were keeping this a secret. He would find out someday; he swore to that.

“Besides,” Fogg said, “seeing him bound and gagged may disconcert whoever is at the other end. You may gag him now, Passepartout.”

“The clanging will undoubtedly awaken everyone on the ship,” Fogg said. “And Fix, if he is a Capellean, will know what is transpiring. If anyone knocks, tell them you are frightened and won’t come out. Open the door for no one.”

“I understand,” Aouda said. Her voice was so soft, so lovely that Passepartout’s heart bounced as if on a trampoline. How could Fogg resist such a woman, who so openly adored him?

Aouda said, “The bell-like sounds will have to remain another of those mysteries of the sea.”

How prophetic her words were, though even she could not have foreseen that from that night there would be, not one, but two marine mysteries.

Passepartout crawled under the table and set the watch to activate within four minutes. He and Fogg climbed onto the table and stuck their fingers in their ears.