Chapter 26 - Checkpoint
Island X, September 25th

An uneasy day had passed since the shooting and Lupin was keen to uncover some answers to the great bombardment of questions that surrounded him. He knew where he needed to begin, but the rest of this affair seemed as clear and comprehensible to him as a murky puddle. He decided he'd need to find Zenith if he was to make progress. Zenith's disliking for monotony made him somewhat predictable and so Lupin's intuition led him outside.

Zenith was indeed there, beside the shelter and inspecting the deep dents where the bullets had pierced the brick. Lupin noticed Zenith seemed to lean against his cane more than usual. Did the poison still have a sickly tendril wrapped around him?

"I thought I'd find you near here," Lupin said, coming closer to him.
"I don't appreciate being poisoned. I want those responsible for this- Lèon Saint-Clair or otherwise," Zenith answered, his tone flat and his fingers twitching on the top of his cane.

"I'm sure we'll uncover the truth. I only hope that we do so before anything else can occur."
"You anticipate another attempt also?" Zenith arched an eyebrow and admitted "That makes three of us."
"Three?"
Zenith inclined his head in the direction of the doorway. Fantômas was heading towards them, within hearing distance.
"Right on cue. If we can't all find a solution to this then I'll feel inclined to retire," Zenith remarked soberly.

Lupin made no attempt to hide his mild amusement. It was then Fantômas came close.
"I'd rather retire on a successful note. Nyctalope has said we can see his balcony, though I am doubtful it will yield anything of value," he said.

Lupin held up a gentle hand "Before we begin looking into the shooting I'd like to first inquire about the poisoning. I do not yet know what happened before you took ill, Zenith."
Zenith sighed and lit himself a cigarette. A faint scent of opium made it up to Lupin's nose, but a puff of wind began to drag it away again.
"I went to the saloon and found Nyctalope to be pouring Robur a drink. We made conversation, which looking back was rather disconcerting."

"What was said that concerned you?" Lupin asked as Zenith drew from his cigarette.
"We spoke of how things were quietening down. I felt bored but Nyctalope was enjoying the rest. Then he said he didn't expect it to last." He shook his head "His expression was innocent enough yet I cannot disregard it, not with what followed."
The information did not sit well amongst any of them. "You asked for the drink, didn't you?" Lupin continued.
"I'd wanted to try it, yes. He didn't seem to care that much, he slid it right over without hesitation or complaint."

Fantômas said, "And after you collapsed?"
"Of course I can't be certain but he gave the impression that he was startled. I dare say I could go as far as saying panicked, but I remember little else. The poison kicked in quick."
Fantômas did not seem satisfied "The boy has a knack for acting when he needs to."

"Well, yes, but so can you and I. You can hardly say for certain he was responsible on that alone," Lupin reminded him. He threw his hands in the air with a huff of breath. "By George, These attempts have come from nowhere!"
"As far as we know," Fantômas corrected. He came closer to the two and said, "My men have confided in me that Robur and Nyctalope were arguing, badly. But they do not know the topic of their quarrel."

"A rather half-hearted motive," Zenith pointed out.
Fantômas shrugged. "That depends on what they argued about. It may have been the trigger. Learning which poison it was will help us determine if this was a premeditated attack. Until one of Robur's chemists identifies the poison, he is the best suspect you have."

"What are you hoping to learn from the type of poison?" Zenith asked.

"Premeditation and the level of planning. If it was something that was already on the ship we could say it was the spur of the moment. If not, things grow more complex. I'd still wager it was nicotine, and that is not easy to come by."

"Nyctalope told me the arguing was because he questioned Robur placing the flag at Belgium. Then things grew personal. He told me he was angry, but still, this seems too out of character-"
Fantômas folded his arms and said, "He was the last to handle Robur's poisoned bottle and when you ask for it it's nowhere to be found."
"Yet again, anyone could have done that. This is my concern for this whole affair thus far. A ship full of people and no one has noticed a thing. Aside from the poison in that cup, we have no solid evidence."

"Why was he even running about doing Robur a favour? The boy has a gunshot wound," Zenith thought out loud, shifting to the side and leaning against his stick.
For that, Lupin had no answer. "He told me he was making amends."
"He said the same to me, but I'm not convinced," Zenith said.
Lupin shrugged, "I can only tell you what he has told me."

"You're sure it could not have been done at an earlier date?" Zenith pondered.

Lupin nodded. "Robur drank from that bottle several times beforehand. I'm certain of that- unless… unless someone had another bottle. I cannot say without it."
"The bottle was half full, but then that doesn't necessarily mean anything. It could have been tipped out to look the same. No, I fear we're growing close to a dead end. I've questioned everyone. No one saw or is willing to admit to seeing anyone getting rid of the bottle or any odd behaviour," Zenith sighed and looked up to the balcony. "Let us hope this second attempt has enabled some evidence to materialise."

Zenith gestured for the two others to head inside with him. They did so, and as they walked Zenith began again, taking in the last of his cigarette. "A poisoning and a shooting… two very different methods, and the shooting itself! It seems a very amateur attempt. From quiet and discreet to clumsy and risky."
"Thankfully the shooter had terrible timing and chose an equally bad location. The wind must have pushed their bullet off-target," Lupin said.
Fantômas made it to the door first and opened it for the others. He said "Irrational. What, the shooting has been nothing but an attempt at a quick fix."

"That I am inclined to agree with," Lupin murmured. Then he spoke up "but I feel this case is no more decisive than the first."
Fantômas made a 'tsk' sound, "Come, monsieur, see sense. Nyctalope was on the roof with a gun in his hand. You saw him with your own eyes! How can you imagine that he was not responsible for firing it?"
"Nothing more than a feeling. It will become clear once you stand on that balcony," Lupin answered.

Silence fell upon the three until they were stood on that balcony. Lupin tried to see where someone could have shot from, but the angle would not come to him no matter where he positioned himself. "I need height," he muttered to himself, taking off his jacket. He lay it down out of the way on the railing and then climbed up onto the stone. It was easy for him to make his way onto the roof.

"What are you doing?" Zenith exclaimed.

Lupin did not answer him, carefully walking at a crouch higher up the slates for the sake of balance. He soon found what he was looking for. "It was around here the shots were fired, perhaps higher, but by Jove, our attacker was a talented shot."
"But he missed," Fantômas pointed out flatly.

"Well, yes, but they climbed up here in such great winds and rain, fired a shot at several hundred yards and missed by inches." Lupin began to shuffle his way back down. "So my point for Nyctalope's innocence is this: I do not believe that he has this skill."
"But you don't know for certain?" Fantômas said.

Lupin jumped down, landing on his feet. "Well, no, but chance is irrelevant here. Two shots being so close in such conditions… I'm inclined to put that down to skill."

"So what about this other man Nyctalope claimed to see?" Zenith said. "I confess I'm not convinced myself but then Nyctalope ran on the roof. He made himself seen that way, rather than hiding in his room. Perhaps an indication of the truth. What do you think of it?"
"Pah, once more- nothing but an act," Fantômas declared. He made a gesture of annoyance. "You're wasting your time. I am sure he has something to do with this at the very least. I for one will not allow his façade to cast doubt on my judgement. I'm off to see if Robur's chemist is any further forward." Without another word he left.

"What's got him so sour today?" Lupin remarked.
"Frustration I imagine. He wants this crook caught just as much as I do. He seems rather fond of Robur."

Lupin collected his jacket and slipped it on again to keep the breeze out. "I don't know about you, Monsieur, but this whole situation does not rest well with me. None of it. Either Nyctalope is guilty, or he is being framed, and it could equally be either option."
"Yes, it is most aggravating. These are such confident and open attempts - and yet no one has seen a thing. It's embarrassing!"

"Confident indeed… Zenith, I've a favour to ask if you and if you truly want justice you'll listen."
Zenith was taken aback. "Speak it."
"I ask of you to trust me and believe in me, no matter what happens, no matter how circumstances seem."

Zenith arched his brows. "An unusual request… What are you thinking?"

"It's becoming clear there are two sides to this, those that believe Saint-Clair innocence and those who do not. I fear things will escalate but it is hard to tell in which direction. All I ask is that you trust in me when I need it most, regardless. Think of it as something for me to fall back on."
Zenith looked at Lupin with suspicion and then confusion, but he nodded. "I'll do what I can."
"Merci, Monsieur. I only hope we can find a clue before anything else happens."

(*A Few Minutes Later*)

There were so many things that troubled Lupin as he walked down the corridor. He had two separate mysteries on his hands: finding out who, if anyone, was framing Nyctalope and secondly trying to discover who killed Nemo's family. There was little he could do for Nemo at the moment as much as he hated to admit it. That puzzle would have to wait. For now, he had to find out who was responsible for trying to kill Robur- he had to look out for his own first.

Upon thinking of Nemo, Lupin remembered he needed to get them off the Albatross. He would have to move them one at a time and he expected quite a scene. Justified or not, Lupin wasn't in the mood for them to be trying to run and fight. The island wasn't massive but all the same if one of them was to get away it would be very difficult to recapture them.

Lupin retrieved his soggy coat from his room. He paused, seeing Nemo's kirpan on his drawers. It didn't belong there, it belonged to Nemo. He wondered…. He picked it up and put it in his pocket and hurried outside into the uncanny weather once more. He turned his collar up to the cold and wet. At least the inside of his coat was only damp. The chilling rain was slapping him in the face but he decided to ignore it as best he could. Once on the Albatross, he used his hand to wipe the precipitation from his face and went to collect a coat for Ishmael to wear. Then he was ready to plod down to the first mate's cell.

Ishmael stood up at once after hearing his footsteps. Lupin opened the door and closed it behind him. "It's time to move. Here, I'd put this on or else you'll catch a chill," Lupin explained, holding the coat out to him. Ishmael walked forward and took it, eyeing him with suspicion. He said nothing and he slipped it on, fastening it up.

Lupin was then able to handcuff Ishmael's hands behind his back with no trouble, much to his surprise. This Ishmael seemed so different from the one who had first came aboard the Albatross. The anger had burned out over the last week and now he was stuck with the sorrowful hopelessness of being brought back to such a horrid place. But this couldn't be Lupin's concern. He had to follow orders.

The thief led the weary first mate off the ship. Ishmael froze when he saw the Island looming in front of him. For a moment he couldn't swallow. His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped slightly. He knew that this is where he would be taken but it seemed more real to him now. His chest seemed to tighten as he took in his surroundings. Lupin wondered what memories this had dredged to the surface. Feeling him tense under his hold was cause for concern.

"Come on, Ishmael. Let's get out of the foul weather, quickly now," Lupin instructed. The first mate did not budge. He stood, staring at the building in front of him. He couldn't bring himself to take another willing step towards that building.
"Ishmael, walk please," Lupin said a little louder, pulling on the first mate's arm. Ishmael stepped back, his face was blank but he remained tense, ready to act. Lupin looked at the first mate. He could see the fear and sadness in his eyes, and his set jaw. Forcing or ordering Ishmael to move would not work, he would resist and Lupin knew he wouldn't be able to hold him. Force would fail, and so cunning would have to prevail.

"I know how much you hate this, but I have a deal for you, mon ami. Do as I have asked you and I will put Nemo in a neighbouring cell to yours, so you can speak all the time. Is it a bargain? Come, don't make me have to fight to get you there."
Gritting his teeth Ishmael began to walk. "Alright," he murmured in defeat. He kept his head down, forcing himself not to look at the fortress but the desire to get out of the bad weather spurred him on. Getting inside the building seemed to physically hurt him. He did not want to be there. He did not want to look at the stone walls surrounding him, reminding him of memories long since passed. Yet he endured, Lupin suspected he was hoping to recall the route.

Lupin took him deeper into the fortress, passing dozens of disinterested faces until they reached a wide hallway with a row of cells at either side. He led him to one of the middle ones and nudged him inside, locking the door behind him. The cells had solid stone walls, but the doors were metal bars. Inside each room were a good bed, a small vanity table, and a desk with a chair. All were made of solid oak. Compared to some cells he had seen, Lupin felt these were comfortable little rooms.
"Good man. Give me your hands and I'll free you." Ishmael obeyed, slipping his hands in between the gaps of the bars. The turn of a key and he was released.

"How long do you intend to keep us here?" Ishmael asked without turning to face him.
"I won't be able to give you a date, you understand? But the moment Nemo finishes his work, you'll be on your way back home. That I can promise you. Would you be so good as hand me that coat for Nemo?"

Ishmael nodded and removed it. Then walked to the bed to sit down.

Another coat, and another movement. Lupin hoped his luck continued with Nemo. Opening the door, he found Nemo to be at his desk, looking through the work. "I expect you're here to escort me to my room?" he said.
"Yes. As I told Ishmael, follow me with no resistance, then I can place you in a neighbouring cell."

Nemo made a face of doubt. "From threatening death to promising reward. May I inquire as to why you have elected to take such a different stance? Do you hope to prompt my working rate?"
Lupin smirked. There was no getting anything past Nemo it seemed. "Nothing has changed. But I see no harm in giving you someone to speak with unless of course, you disagree?"

"No. I am only intrigued." Nemo rose from his desk. Lupin gave him the coat and after a moment they were ready to leave. Nemo tugged at the handcuffs, more out of curiosity, but they were secure. He walked with him without hesitation. Nemo body was tense- alert even. He kept his head high and wore his malicious reserve. He refused to show even the slightest sign of fear, he wanted to feel in control. Lupin could feel an air of determination surrounding him. The captain had no intention of cowering from his situation.

Nemo was escorted into his new room and Lupin released him from the handcuffs as he had Ishmael.
"I'll have someone bring your work down for you," Lupin explained.
Nemo removed his coat and gave it back to Lupin. Lupin paused and sighed. "I have one last deal for you, Nemo." Nemo looked at him with curiosity.

Lupin went into his pocket and produced the kirpan. Nemo's eyes widened. "I will give you this to keep on you, but I want your word of honour to not use it against anyone. Let me be clear, if you do, I will take it from you, destroy it, and move Ishmael away from you. I'm trusting you with a lot here, you understand? No attacks, no escape attempts, no foul play."

Nemo looked at the weapon, then up to Lupin's face. "You have my word of honour. It will remain in its sheath."
Lupin handed it to him. "Good, best behaviour now. Don't make me regret it."
Nemo put the kirpan back on his side, "Thank you."

After checking both barred doors and glancing around to see that everything was secure, he left.

For a moment there was no noise but Ishmael spoke up upon hearing the shutting and locking of another door. He assumed it was Lupin leaving the hallway.

"Captain, these cells. They're not the same; I'm sure they're in a different place. They were in the east wing last time."
"Yes, Ishmael. They have been moved. This won't work to our advantage," Nemo answered, sitting down on his new bed. He leant forward with nothing to do but wait.
"Is there nothing we can do?" Ishmael wondered out loud, inspecting the doors, particularly the hinges.
"You can look, but I am doubtful. Robur won't let any opportunities present themselves easily."

"Indeed so," an unfortunately familiar voice said.

Nemo jumped to his feet but did not try to approach the door. Straining his ears, he found the eerie rhythmic sound of boots pierced the silence. Instinct brought his hand to his kirpan, but he moved it away again. He'd given his word, but he didn't expect it to be tested so quickly. Nemo looked Ishmael in the eye. He hoped to send a pleading gaze, begging him to remain calm when their enemy would come into their sights once again.

Robur walked to the doorways of their cells. He stood at a bit of a diagonal, primarily facing Nemo but Ishmael was still visible in the corner of his eye. As usual, Robur settled his hands behind his back.

"Robur," Nemo acknowledged.
"You have been working for eighteen full days now. I am unimpressed with the results of your work," Robur pointed out, ignoring Nemo's cold acknowledgement.
"I am doing the best I can, Captain. You know firsthand that my work is reliable and if you want no mistakes then I advise you let me take my time. I would have thought you considered that basic intelligence," Nemo argued calmly, folding his arms with a solid glare.

Nemo turned his head, hearing a door open followed by gentle footsteps. His full attention returned to the monster in front of him.
"We do not have the luxury of time, Nemo. Get your head out of your distorted reality and realise I'm trying to save as many people's lives as I can. This isn't about you and I. I assure you, if there were a better nautical engineer out there then he would be standing in your place," Robur explained with a voice like rumbling thunder.

Nemo did not so much as flinch. He was steel. Ishmael was chomping at the bit to snap but he steadied himself. The wishes of the captain had always outweighed his own. Robur turned his attention to whoever else was in the corridor.

"What is it, lad?" he inquired in a far calmer tone.
"Turner asked me to find you for him, sir. He said it was important," the boy replied.
The voice was male but young. Nemo was too far back in his room to see past the stone walls that made the sides of the cells. Ishmael could. He seemed to have been taken aback. He glanced to Nemo and down the corridor with a slight twitch of his head.

Nemo approached the door and looked down the hallway to see to whom Ishmael was wanting him to look at.

It was a boy, no older than thirteen. What struck Nemo most was his resemblance to Robur. A relative? Thin, although strong shoulders were developing the same broadness. His dirty blond hair, at a medium length, was almost covering his eyes.

He kept his soaked dark grey coat folded under his arm. Even that seemed to be a similar design to that of Robur's - a double-breasted coat with a stiff collar and almost a dozen silver buttons. Without it on, Nemo could see black trousers with a dirty white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The oil and grime on his clothes suggested he was gaining experience in engineering. With all eyes focusing on him, the boy looked uncomfortable. He stood his ground, looking to Robur for guidance.

Although the boy remained wordless he brought his hand up and scratched his neck. His hand wandered towards the ring on a necklace he wore. He seemed to realise what he was doing, letting go at once.

"Go and wait outside, Armand. I'll join you in a moment," Robur instructed with a gentler tone.
"Yes, sir." Armand was on his way to the door when Nemo spoke again, which drew him to a curious halt.
"Not about you and I? Do you mean to tell me that this whole vendetta has nothing to do with the past? Holding so many people as little more than slaves? With the innocents, you murdered for no reason other than spite?!" The captain's voice was low and sharp as he held onto the bars of his cell door with an impressive grip.

"I know what you suspect me of- I expect that is why I got a bullet to the chest, yes? Well I told Lupin and I'm telling you; I am not the man responsible for such a diabolical act! Get your work done, Nemo, or I will move Ishmael well out of your way and you will not see him until you have finished. I am not a murderer. That doesn't mean I won't do what I have to if it means stopping a war-" Robur cut himself off as he saw the boy at the doorway. "I told you to wait outside."

Armand quickly disappeared out the door.

Ishmael seemed to struggle to not reach his arm through the bars and try to throttle Robur again. Nemo hardened his gaze slightly as he looked at the first mate. He could not let Ishmael retaliate, regardless of what was said. Ishmael understood and walked to the back of his cell and began pacing.

Robur heaved a powerful breath. "I've done all I can to be nice about this, Nemo but my hospitality is running thin. Get the work done!" Robur warned before leaving, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Nemo looked to Ishmael with wide eyes as he returned to the front of his cell. Ishmael shook his head and paced, clenching and unclenching his hand.
"The two bear a striking resemblance to one another," Nemo observed.
"Father and son I'd say, or perhaps grandson or nephew? But they look related alright, Captain. They are too similar for it to be a coincidence. Besides, did you not see the necklace he wore? It was Robur's old ring on a chain- his wedding ring! I saw his ring was gone when he faced away from me. I remember he always wore it, even when he was working. It makes sense for him to have given it to his son… Do you suppose his wife has died?"

"It's very possible, but I never met her. I just pity the boy if he truly is Robur's son..."

Robur closed the door to find Armand waiting nearby. The boy was hesitant to look at him.
Robur took a breath to rid him of his frustration. "I don't want you going back in there, my lad. Those men are dangerous. Lupin also decided to give Nemo his kirpan back, a blade."
Armand looked up, somewhat relieved that he had not been scolded, but the worry was still clear on his face.

"What did he mean?" Armand asked. "I know you got him to build the Nautilus… but the rest-"
"The rest were lies, Armand, I swear. Pay him no heed. Nemo's words hold nothing but false accusations."
"But what-"
"Armand, what I say is the truth and I don't want to hear any more on the matter," Robur grumbled, closing the conversation.
Armand looked down at his feet. "Yes, sir," he said quietly.

Robur sighed and went over to the boy. "Understand this, Nemo is a madman. He lives in his own distorted reality where he will kill anyone he wishes. I don't want you anywhere near him. He could hurt you."
"I understand."

Robur waited but a moment before he smiled and ruffled Armand's hair, "I've missed you, my boy. I'm sure you've been busy whilst I've been gone."
Armand nodded and his small smile turned into a beam. "I've been working on my project."
"I can tell," Robur chuckled, seeing his clothes.

He gestured for Armand to follow with a soft smile. "Come along then. Let's see what Turner wanted from me."

Armand nodded with a smile of his own, "Yes, father."