The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,15
the rumours. There's never been any real evidence they ever existed.'
'Until now!' said Hodd, stabbing the table with his index finger.
'You appear to know your stuff, ma'am,' said Grist. 'Care to say how?'
Jez blinked as she surfaced from her daze. 'I used to be the expedition navigator for a man called Professor Malstrom. He was an authority on the Azryx. We spent months hauling all over Yortland looking for clues. Never found any.'
'Ah, the Professor! I know him well!' Hodd cried. 'How is the old bugger?'
'You can't know him that well. He's been dead more than four years,' said Jez.
Hodd looked awkward for a moment, then made an airy gesture with his hand. 'It's so easy to drift out of touch. Especially when you're off in the far corners of the world.'
Lost civilisations? It was all sounding a little bit ridiculous now, and Frey had already pegged Hodd as a braying halfwit. If not for the presence of Grist, Frey wouldn't be entertaining this fool at all. But Grist seemed like a man who knew his business, so he supposed there must be something to the story.
Frey patted the object on the table. 'Why don't you tell us where you got this, and let us decide if it comes from some made-up civilisation or not? It'll give me a chance to finish my breakfast, if nothing else.'
His patronising tone was lost on his target. 'Of course, of course. Allow me to convince you.'
Frey waved a fork at him, his mouth already full. 'Please try.'
'I'm an explorer of some renown, even if I do say so myself,' Hodd began. 'I take on the missions that others won't touch. Men more short-sighted than I will map New Vardia and Jagos while I search for the truth yet unknown, for mysteries beyond imagining!'
Frey glanced at Grist, and was pleased to see the other captain roll his eyes. At least one of them wasn't an idiot.
Hodd didn't notice. 'I was alone in the rainforests of Kurg when I saw it. It was—'
'Hold on,' said Frey. 'What were you doing there in the first place?'
'I was engaged in the search for a hidden tribe of savages, mentioned in ancient texts from the days of the Angroms, the first dynasty, founded by Wilven the Successor when he united all of North Pandraca. These texts have lasted almost three and a half millennia, preserved by a curing process unknown to us today. They speak of a people on Kurg who could see the future, by means of an elixir. If such knowledge existed, I had to find it.'
'An elixir that lets you see into the future?' Frey asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.
'Think of it!' Hodd enthused.
Frey returned to his food. 'Oh, I am.' He wondered if there was a similar elixir that would allow him to reclaim the lost minutes of his life he'd wasted listening to this drivel. 'And you went there alone? To Kurg?'
'Oh, no, not alone. I have some connections, you see, and wealthy investors willing to finance my expeditions. With their help I assembled a team of—'
'And this team, where were they when you found the object?'
'They got eaten,' said Grist. 'The ones that didn't get poisoned by the bad food, or died of the rot in their wounds, or sickened with the chills 'cause they went in winter without the right gear.'
'The chills? In a rainforest?' Frey asked.
'Kurg's cold,' said Jez. 'The northern parts are above the Arctic Circle. It's a bit warmer on the south coast, but it's still no fun in winter, especially at night.'
'Oh,' said Frey. This was news to him. His knowledge of geography outside of Vardia was shocking.
'You're a smart man, Cap'n, and I see what you're drivin' at,' said Grist. 'Bumble-butt rich folk, more money than sense. This man Hodd couldn't plan an expedition if you nailed a shopping list to his arse.'
'Hey!' said Hodd, looking hurt.
'The issue ain't what he does or how he does it, nor what he thinks about this or that. It's what he found.'
They looked expectantly at Hodd. The explorer was sulking and didn't seem in the mood to talk to anyone.
'Ah, come on, Hodd,' said Grist, giving him a hearty slap on the shoulder. 'Don't take offence. It's just how we captains talk. Always makin' fun. No harm meant, eh, Frey?'
Frey put up his hands with an innocent face. 'Like he says. It's just how we talk.'