Dolphin Island - Arthur C. Clarke [1]
There was not the slightest sign of life as Johnny circumnavigated the stranded monster.
But this did not surprise him; freighters were largely automatic, and one this size was probably run by less than a dozen men. If his theory was correct, they would all be gathered in the engine room, trying to find what was wrong.
Now that she was no longer supported by her jets, the Santa Anna rested on the huge flat-bottomed buoyancy chambers that served to keep her afloat if she came down on the sea. They ran the full length of the hull, and as Johnny walked along them, they loomed above him like overhanging walls. In several places it was possible to scale those walls, for there were steps and handholds recessed into the hull, leading to entrance hatches about twenty feet from the ground.
Johnny looked thoughtfully at these openings. Of course, they were probably locked; but what would happen if he did go aboard? With any luck, he might have a good look around before the crew caught him and threw him out It was the chance of a lifetime, and he'd never forgive himself if he missed it…
He did not hesitate any longer, but started to climb the nearest ladder. About fifteen feet from the ground he had second thoughts, and paused for a moment.
It was too late; the decision was made for him. Without any warning, the great curving wall to which he was clinging like a fly began to vibrate. A roaring howl, as of a thousand tornadoes, shattered the peaceful night Looking downward, Johnny could see dirt, stones, tufts of grass, being blasted outward from beneath the ship as the Santa Anna hoisted herself laboriously into the air. He could not go back; the jets would blow him away like a feather in a gale. The only escape was upward—and he had better get aboard before the ship started to move. What would happen if the hatch was locked he dared not imagine.
He was in luck. There was a handle, folded flush with the surface of the metal door, which opened inward to reveal a dimly lit corridor. A moment later, heaving a great sigh of relief, Johnny was safely inside the Santa Anna. As he closed the door, the scream of the jets died to a muffled thunder—and at the same moment, he felt the ship beginning to move. He was on his way to an unknown destination.
For the first few minutes, he was scared; then he realized that there was nothing to worry about He had only to find his way to the bridge, explain what had happened, and he'd be dropped off at the next stop. The police would get him home in a few hours.
Home. But he had no home; there was no place where he really belonged. Twelve years ago, when he was only four, both his parents had been killed in an air crash; ever since then he had lived with his mother's sister. Aunt Martha had a family of her own, and she had not been very pleased at the addition. It had not been so bad while plump, cheerful Uncle James was alive, but now that he was gone, it had become more and more obvious to Johnny that he was a stranger in the house.
So why should he go back—at least, before he had to do so? This was a chance that would never come again, and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to Johnny that Fate had taken charge of his affairs. Opportunity beckoned, and he would follow where it led.
His first problem would be to find somewhere to hide. That should not be difficult, in a vessel as large as this; but unfortunately he had no idea of the Santa Anna's layout, and unless he was careful, he might blunder into one of the crew. Perhaps the best policy would be to look for the cargo section, for no one would be likely to go there while the ship was on the move.
Feeling very much like a burglar, Johnny began to explore, and was soon completely lost. He seemed to wander for miles, along dimly lit corridors and passageways, up spiral stairs and down vertical ladders, past hatches and doors bearing mysterious names.
Once he ventured to open one of these, when he found the sign "Main Engines" too much