Chapter 10 - Critical Measures
Bergues, France (Continued)

Lupin wished he could spare more than a glance towards Nemo to see how he was. Zenith was in the passenger's seat, and he was on high alert. Nemo had the back seats to himself. Neither of them expected Nemo to try to get out, or for someone to get in, but nonetheless, they were careful to not ignore the risk. To ignore a risk made it more likely to happen.

"How is he?" Lupin asked.
Zenith looked hard at Nemo. Lupin glanced at him repeatedly, waiting for a reply. Lupin was a fine actor but he couldn't contain all his anxiety. If Nemo didn't get through this, it would be a disaster.

"Zenith, how is he?" Lupin asked again.
"He's just the same."
"Well, at least he isn't getting any worse. It's not much further now."
Zenith took to looking out of the window at the passing houses. "This friend of yours, is he one of your men?"
"Not exactly, but it is somewhere safe for Nemo to stay. It won't be long before we arrive. The doctor I know is only a minute or so away from her house."

"Her?" Zenith questioned, raising an eyebrow and turning to look at him.
"My foster mother, Victoire," Lupin admitted. "I hoped to keep her out of this mess, but there's no other option."
Zenith nodded and looked back at Nemo. He still seemed to be in slight pain when he breathed, and even with such small wounds, the infection was causing his health to decline.

Lupin finally stopped the car outside a fenced-off, large house. They were on the outskirts of Bergues from what Zenith could tell. "Wait here," Lupin instructed. Zenith studied the house a moment. There was a well-kept garden with a range of flowers, some were blooming, but others were beginning to die with the cooler weather. The house didn't seem plagued with age and looked secure enough. Hiding here didn't look like it would be too unpleasant.

Lupin opened the car door and approached one of the windows. None of the lights were on. He tapped his knuckle on the glass several times. It took a while until the curtain moved, revealing a plump woman, roughly in her fifties. There were sparks of grey in her once black hair, but her cheeks seemed as rosy and her smile as lively as what she no doubt looked like years ago.

Lights gradually illuminated a few rooms and it took a while until she opened the door. Zenith guessed she had retired to her bed. "My dear boy, what on Earth are you doing here at this time of night?" she asked in French.
"I am sorry, Victoire, but there was no alternative. An acquaintance of mine is wounded and ill. You were the closest and safest place I could take him to."
"Not to worry then, not to worry. Where is the poor fellow?"

Lupin gestured to the car.

"Good Lord! What is that... contraption?!" she exclaimed.
"Hush, Victoire. I will explain inside. For now, let us get our friend out of the cold," Lupin whispered, as he opened the back door to the car. "Oh, and of course, this fine fellow is Monsieur Zenith. A new associate of mine. Monsieur Zenith, this is Victoire."

"Bon soir, mademoiselle. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance," Zenith greeted, bowing once he climbed out of the car.
"Good evening, Monsieur," Victoire smiled back, although she looked a little baffled by the whole situation. Lupin and Zenith began to lift Nemo out of the car whilst Victoire lit up a few more rooms. Lupin's men had left Nemo on the stretcher to make it easier to move him again which was a great help.

It didn't take the two long to take Nemo upstairs and into one of the spare rooms.

Lupin could see Victoire watching him, as though analysing his expression. She seemed to have made a decision as to how her foster son was feeling. It was usually easy for Lupin to conceal it, but there was no point in acting tonight. Besides, Victoire somehow could always see through the act. Nonetheless, she said nothing for the time being, but Lupin knew from experience she would speak to him in private.

"Zenith, would you be so kind as to hide the car behind the house and run down the street to Doctor Guéroult's home? I pointed it out to you on the way here- the one beside the chapel. Keep the details of who we are out, in case anyone should overhear. Make sure he comes at once; do not leave without him. I think this can count as an emergency."
"It's a good thing I like you, Lupin. I'm not used to taking orders," Zenith muttered.
"Come, monsieur, you know you will be paid for your work. Now stop complaining. You need Nemo to live if you want your money."

Zenith sighed before he went downstairs and sneaked off into the streets.

Lupin turned his attention back to Nemo, who was lying in bed. Lupin collected another pillow to put under him to prop him up. He then sat down beside him for a while. He watched his chest rise and fall as it seemed to be causing him several problems. Lupin could see he was struggling to breathe sufficiently, as though someone was sitting on his chest.

Without his shirt, Lupin could see that the blood still had not seeped through the bandages, but it definitely seemed that the wound was infected. Lupin had replaced them every day on the boat, cleaning the wound as best he could. However, Lupin wasn't sure of the whole process. None of the crew knew how to treat wounds like this as well as a doctor would. Their only nurse hadn't come aboard the Swallow with them. Lupin grumbled to himself. They had been overconfident with their plan. Their big mistake.

"Arsène," Victoire enquired. "Are you alright?"
"I will be fine. It is not myself that I am concerned for. We cannot lose this man. He's the key to everything. Our plan is in tatters."
Lupin shook his head and stopped himself. Victoire didn't know what he was talking about. He would have to explain the details later when he was settled.
"Please do not upset yourself, my dear. You may only make matters worse. Why don't you try to sleep. You look exhausted."

"I fail to see how matters can prove to get much worse. You must not be concerned for me. I will be quite alright until Guéroult's arrival. Before you go back to bed, would you be so kind as to put some water on the boil ready for him whilst I contact a friend of mine? You still have the telegraph I gave you, don't you?"
"Of course. It's upstairs where you last hid it."
"Thank you... and now, let us both get to work."

(*A Few Minutes Later*)

It took a little while for Lupin to prepare the telegraph. It had been hidden inside the stuffing of a mattress, which was locked away in the attic. Lupin had left the telegraph in case Victoire ever found herself needing her son's secret help. The telegraph could also communicate with Robur with a few changes. Lupin brought it into one of the two spare rooms and sent the following message to him:

... ..- -.-. -.-. . ... ... /

.. - / .- .. .-.. .-.. / - .- -.- . / .- / .- ... .. .-.. . / - - / .-. . .-. .-. .- .. .-. /
.. / .- .. .-.. .-.. / -.- . . .-. / -.- - ..- / .. -. ..-. - .-. - . -.. /

(Success
However I have dropped the shell
It will take a while to repair
I will keep you informed)

Within minutes, a message was returned:

..- -. -.. . .-. ... - - - -.. /
... .- ... / .-.. -..- -. / ..-. - .-.. .-.. - .- . -.. /

(Understood, has LXG followed)

Lupin paused as the door to the cottage opened and shut. The sound of heavy footsteps clambered up the stairs. Two voices spoke to each other in the hallway. Lupin could not make out what was being said.
"Zenith?" he called after a moment, feeling uncertain of himself. He sighed a quiet breath of relief as the albino came to the door. He was feeling much more on edge than he first thought.
"The doctor is seeing to him now. He'd like to speak to you. He said it was important, but not urgent. It was something along the lines of how long he has been injured," Zenith informed him.

"Merci, Monsieur. I will be there momentarily. I just need to send one more message." With that, Lupin turned his attention back to the wooden table and rattled off a reply.

.-.. / - ..- -/

(Unsure nothing sighted
L out)

"There, that is done. Let us go and see what the doctor wanted from me."
"I didn't know you knew Morse code," Zenith said. He stood at the doorway, waiting for Lupin. "It's a useful skill. Besides, I can do a lot of things. I had to keep the police busy somehow."
"And a fine job you still do at it," he remarked with a smirk.

Lupin rose from his seat and left the room. Zenith followed behind him, with a tired look upon his face. Lupin assumed he was bored now that the excitement of the night was over. All that was left to do was allow Nemo time to heal. However, the struggle to ensure Nemo's survival was not finished yet..

September 10th
(Continued)

It was difficult for Nemo to keep track of time. With his exhausting fever, no clocks, and the fact the curtains were always closed meant he could only guess. It felt like a week had passed since he was taken, though it could have been longer. Nemo rested most of the time which helped him to pass the sluggish days away. After the first few days the balance started to shift and he began to stay awake for longer; the fever was dying out.

Day in, day out, escape was the only thing on his mind. Every time he woke up, he'd see if his chances were any better. The answer was always no. Almost every time he awoke, he saw Lupin's calm face beside him, always watching him intently. Sometimes he would hold a cool damp cloth against Nemo's forehead, or make sure he ate and drank what little he could. Lupin's care had gotten him through.

But today was different. He had a speck of a chance to at least gather some answers. He was awake and alone. He didn't know how much time was available to him but he had a task set in front of him. He had to look out of the window. It was a reasonable goal considering his situation.

Nemo was tired of pressing like a vice for answers. He'd never gathered a response. He didn't know why they wanted him, who wanted him exactly, or even how long it would take for him to find out the answers to these questions. He hated the ignorance surrounding his fate. It was difficult to plan anything when he couldn't get even the simplest information, like which country he was in. France? England? Belgium?

Sitting up further in bed, Nemo waited a moment to listen for any signs of life. Nothing. What time was it? He took a deep breath and pulled the blanket back. Still being shirtless meant a vague chill nudged him as he did so. Another deep breath, another wait, but still the musky air stayed silent.

Nemo scanned the room from his bed. The room was dark, but he could see the outlines of the furniture well thanks to the oil lamp on the desk near the window. He furrowed his brow as he saw one of his shirts and a new pair of trousers folded on the table. They had not been there last time.

He rubbed his eye and looked to the rest of the room. The pitcher from the washbasin looked to be missing but Nemo did not understand why it had been removed. He couldn't see himself in the mirror due to the angle but knew he didn't look his best. What else had he missed?

There was no beef tea, bread or milk waiting for him on the bedside table, which was odd. As usual, there were no ornaments, no pictures on the cream wallpapered walls, and the fire wasn't lit. There was nothing that could be utilised as a weapon, only the lamp, but Nemo wasn't that desperate to waste his chance at escape. It would be useless and would only limit his chances further in the long run.

Being sure to move slowly, he slipped out of bed. The cold floorboards creaked beneath him as he put his full weight down, mostly on his good leg. There was another hesitant wait until he deemed it safe to limp forward. His leg threatened to wobble, but it lasted the few steps to the wall. His ribs complained at the extra pressure. The patterned rug helped to mask any noise as he moved. He winced and leaned against the wall for a moment, then he turned to the window.

With the tips of his fingers, he brushed the curtain aside and peered out. The pale light of dusk was fading, making room for a cool quiet night. Nemo felt goosebumps sting at his skin. Condensation had formed tiny little droplets on the window and Nemo's breath made it harder for him to see out. He hesitated in wiping it. They'd know he'd been walking but he had little choice if he wanted to be able to look at the outside world.

Nemo wiped the water away from a small area of the glass. As he looked hard into the dark, his eyes grew wide. Was he seeing things? He furiously wiped more condensation away.
"What?" he hissed. "That's not possible."

There, outside on the darkening streets, sat an automobile. Yet no relief came in seeing it. In the lamplight, he could see that the pearl white paint was now black and lacking the decorative elements, no doubt for easier concealment. There was no League inside, none of his crew, no one to help him. Somehow, Lupin and the others had taken one of his automobiles. He noticed that Zenith was outside, putting a few bags into the back, but he didn't look up to the window.

But how? Was it Moriarty? Had they stolen it? However they had managed to achieve it, the fact that they had this invention was the main cause for concern, and a serious one at that. They could share his work with indecent individuals, just like Moriarty had tried to only months ago.

The captain stopped. He had lost many good crew, good friends, in the last few months alone. He had lost too many in fact, not to mention Allan Quatermain. Nemo had learned to respect that stubborn old hunter over time. The two were similar in more ways than any of the League, even Quatermain himself, knew. It pained him to think of the dead now, especially as he was unaware of the crew or the League's welfare after the attack. How was Ishmael fairing for instance? Was Mrs Harker alright after he had heard her screams?

Nemo cast the thoughts from his mind, looking for some sort of indication about where he was. He knew they had been in the English Channel. There were only two real options as to where he could be and now Nemo was confident that he was in France rather than Belgium. The streets were not like that of England at least but it was by no means a certainty.

Should France be the case, they could take him anywhere in the mainland. Lupin had an automobile packed and ready so it was likely that they would be on the move again very soon. How was the League meant to find him then? Despite him getting definite answers for the first time, he felt his chances were slimmer than ever.

Nemo was so caught up in his disheartening despair that he didn't realise someone was at the door until the key turned in the lock. In stepped Lupin carrying a pitcher full of water with a cloth over his arm. He paused when he saw Nemo was up. Nemo braced himself, though, for what, he wasn't quite sure.

"Well this took you longer than expected, I thought you'd have been up sooner."
"How?" Nemo demanded, gesturing outside.
"You left it at Venice," Lupin answered, setting the jug down in its place on the water basin. Nemo clenched his fist, trying to push his anger away. "That would mean you have been following us for months," he fumed. He could feel himself losing his patience; his temper was warming.

Lupin's placid expression faltered for a moment. He hadn't expected him to have realised that. It wasn't something Nemo had expected to hear either. It added so many more questions to the ever-growing list. Lupin hid whatever concern he had behind a grin. "Caught the idea? By Jove, I'm impressed."
Nemo shot back "I want answers, Lupin. What is it you want with me?"
"Have patience, Captain. You'll have your answers soon."
"No! Today and now. I have been here long enough," he retorted.

Nemo stepped forwards, hoping to intimidate him. An uncontrollable wince ruined the effect, but his glare was still sharp enough to get his message across.

Lupin shrugged, unfazed. "It's been nine days in total, and I understand your impatience, but I'm sure you can wait a while longer. You should get ready." Lupin gestured to Nemo's clothes on the desk, "It's time to go."

Nemo bit back a reply and refused to move. He was within striking distance of the thief and continued to stare daggers at him. These men were not above him and he would not take orders from them.
"Answers," Nemo demanded again, his tone offering no room for disagreement.

Lupin stood up straight but maintained his level-headed attitude. "The faster you get ready the sooner we can set off. When we get there, then, and only then, will I be telling you anything."
"Where is 'there'?!"

The tension deflated with every dull knock that came from the door. Lupin took a measured breath and Nemo retired to the window. He reminded himself to stay settled if he wanted to lower their sense of security. The chill from the window seemed to help ease him. He felt so powerless, so oblivious, and he hated it with every inch of his being. Why were they making it so difficult for him?

Lupin kept Nemo in the corner of his eye as he opened the door. "Victoire, is everything alright?" he asked in French.
"Yes, only you left this downstairs. I thought you might have forgotten it," Victoire answered, holding out a small wooden box. Lupin speaking French aided Nemo's assumption of where he was at least.
"Ah, thank you. I was meaning to bring that up," Lupin answered, taking it from her in one hand, though with some difficulty. He smiled at her and she went back downstairs. Lupin closed the door again and turned back to Nemo.

With a sigh, Lupin walked over to him, placing the box on the desk near his clothes. He tried a friendlier approach. "The one thing I had forgotten- the wax for your moustache, combs, and a few other bits and pieces. I expect you'll want to look presentable for when we leave… Trust me, Nemo. You'll have your answers soon."

Despite his reluctance, Nemo had little choice but to swallow his pride and back down yet again. Lupin would not be easily intimidated. "So be it," he replied dully.
Lupin nodded. "Thank you. I'll be back in an hour. Wash and get dressed, please. Call if you need me."
"Where is my kirpan?" Nemo asked.
"The knife? Don't worry, I have it safe in its sheath. I know it is important to you, and I do apologise, but I cannot return it to you yet. Perhaps if you can prove you can behave on this ride I can reconsider."

Considering his Nemo's situation, that was a fair offer, but Nemo still felt wrong not having it by his side; it was part of his faith. At least it was safe and secure.

With that Lupin left him alone, locking the door behind him.

Nemo was somewhat grateful for Lupin's help. He had to admit he was fortunate, for his time as a prisoner could be far, far worse. At least he was being looked after. Nemo was still unsure of what to think about Lupin. His common sense told him to stay well away from the thief, but another part of him was intrigued. Perhaps it was his consideration and charity, his pluck personality or the fact he knew the thief as a boy. Lupin had already brought him to what Nemo assumed was the most guarded secret he had to ensure his survival. Although he didn't understand him yet, Nemo knew if he had to trust someone, for the time being, it would have to be Lupin.

Nemo glanced outside at the automobile once more. He knew his inventions could be deadly if they fell into the wrong hands. Nemo could only hope whatever dark plan he had been entangled in would be felled before it could fully set into motion. It dawned on him that Lupin was too careful to allow him to interfere and how hopeless he was on his side. He accepted that powerlessness. He knew he needed the League...