James had been sailing his whole life. Following the wind and tide was fundamental to a sailor, but this boat could go against the wind, and even steer itself at night, which was near-miraculous to him.
On the Stargazer, he’d had to keep his people going without stopping at unfriendly ports. After a career of Piracy, there were very many ‘unfriendly’ ports to avoid. It was not a hardship, as the ocean provided everything they needed. But something even more fundamental had changed in the years he’d been gone.
The fish had gotten far too smart. He hadn’t been able to catch a meal since he’d returned to the ocean. The weather had changed also, the heavy rains out on the high seas were no more. There was thick dew on the deck every morning, but his ability to harvest rainwater was long gone.
(Author’s Note: There is scriptural evidence to suggest that rain did not fall until the Flood of Noah’s Day. There is no reference either way to describe weather systems in the New World; but Jesus demonstrated control over the elements. In earlier books in the series, I chose this route; but it’s not a major plot point in any way.)
He’d left without taking on supplies, so he’d had to pull into port once or twice. There was no effort to restrict food and water, no matter where he went. He didn’t even have to pay for it. He’d clung to the idea that maybe it was still an elaborate game, and sailed as far as he could from memory. All the old coastal towns had changed. A lot of them were now long-forgotten ruins.
He’d followed some of the old routes, more out of habit than anything else. A change in the weather had affected the currents, too. He’d seen a few other craft. One was the same size as his boat, but he had no idea who would be on it. Ships like this had been very expensive pleasure craft when he was a Pirate, with the sort of owner that would be worth a Ransom. In this world, who knew? Nobody seemed to carry anything of value.
He’d also seen a cargo ship, more than a hundred times the size of anything that he could imagine actually floating, and was glad to know violence was an impossibility now. The Cargo hauler could crush his boat like a bug and not notice.
He’d stayed out at sea until his supplies ran low again, and finally settled on a destination.
Pirates were a solitary breed by nature, but they had ports of their own. Hidden Coves that were in Neutral Territory, but close enough to civilization that they could be used as a staging area for attacks, and private landings for Shore Leave. Most Pirates were just crewman fleeing trouble, and a lot of them had taken their families along. Some of those Pirate Coves had become pretty sweet spots, supplied with stolen goods; and with little rule of law.
The Coves were never on the official maps, but there were half a dozen of them that James had taken his ship to. He was following the coast from memory, landing at each one. They were all gone.
On the way to the fourth, he decided to get more information. The Terminal was connected, even so far from land. James wondered idly how people could stand to be so closely connected at any distance, but he was able to learn a few facts about the time he’d missed. The ‘Golden Age of Piracy’ was long dead in this part of the world, even before A-Day. He’d looked up names he knew from his own ‘heroes’ list. Almost all of them had come to a violent end. Most of them weren’t back yet.
“What’s the reason?” James asked himself aloud. “Why am I here now, and others still haven’t come back? I know it’s not by age or date, I know it’s not by general character…”
With his ‘friendly port’ list in European Waters gone, James headed south, towards the Caribbean. The most famous Pirates had all been focused there, and James was eager to see what had become of it.
His ship had hunted in the north, primarily; preying on the trade routes back to the noble territories of the European Powers. But he knew of a few Pirate Coves in the warmer southern waters. Such locations were highly prized secrets; so nobody in the know ever put them in writing, or marked them on a map. James put the destination into his new ship’s navigation from memory.
Even this ship, faster than anything he’d ever sailed, took a while to get across a third of the world. When James landed, he found the last thing he expected.
A familiar face.
~oo00oo~
James put the anchor down off-shore, and rowed in to Spyglass Cove in an inflatable boat. He’d never seen anything like that before, but he could see the appeal of being able to fold up a launch.
When he came close enough, he’d seen smoke from a campfire, back a few hundred feet from the beach. When he landed, and started trekking towards the trees, he realized that the smoke wasn’t a campfire. It was a woodstove.
Spyglass Cove had been a Hideaway for several ships. James had never been to this one, but all Pirate-Run Ports were more or less the same. A Haven for protection, and a Trading Post; where Pirates and Privateers could trade their goods. Legitimate salvage teams and fishermen could sell their own cargo on the black market to avoid taxes, or to get a better exchange rate for local currency, and of course there was always a place for a sailor to put in during a storm.
When James had last been to one of these places, the community was small, but enthusiastic. A bar that only served stolen or home-brew booze. A cathouse for the men who had been away at sea too long. Guarded warehouses worth killing over for all the stolen goods within…
But this place was empty. Swept clean by the centuries in between. What stood in its place was a single hut. It was timber, with a mud brick chimney on one end, trailing smoke. It was the kind of house that James could have built himself if he put a few months into the effort.
There was the sound of giggling coming from behind the house, and James followed it, to find a little boy, playing with a nimble little monkey.
“Who are you?!” A startled voice stammered.
James spun to see a young woman with darkly tan skin and sun-bleached hair looking back at him, with a basket of local fruits on her hip. The Boy also straightened up quickly, startled. They were the first people here that James had met who were not immediately welcoming. In fact, it was the first time in a while that he’d paused to wonder if he needed a cover story.
“I said: Who are you?” The woman demanded again.
“I-I’m not here to cause trouble.” He said reflexively. “I was looking for… I don’t know, to be honest. But I had come here before, and I wanted to see what was left of it.”
The woman set down her basket carefully. “You were a Pirate.” She said with certainty. “Donnie, go inside now.”
The boy scampered inside obediently.
The woman never took her eyes of James. “Keep talking, Stranger. Who are you?”
“His name is James Fogg.” A voice said evenly.
James turned to stone, fists bunching. “Lancewood.”
His traitorous former First Mate had come out of the trees, with a few logs of firewood being carried under one arm… and a chopping axe in the other hand. When James turned to face him, Lancewood gripped the Axe differently. It was suddenly a weapon. James hadn’t seen a weapon since he’d arrived, and suddenly realized he didn’t have one. The first time in his adult life he was unarmed.
“Eileen, go inside.” Lancewood said, eyes fixed on James.
The young woman did so, leaving them alone.
James’ eyes flicked around, looking for anything he could use to match up with an Axe.
Lancewood read his gaze. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“What about you, traitor?” James shot back. “You died before me. I recall the memory whenever I need a laugh.”
Lancewood snorted. “Are you here to kill me, Captain?”
“I didn’t even know you were here.” James said, fingers flexing open and closed into fists. “I was exploring the old Pirate Coves, where our kind lived free. I figured if we were all coming back, then maybe…” He shook his head. “Of everyone set free from Davy Jones Locker, I had to find you?”
Lancewood studied him a long moment, before he hefted the axe, and threw it down at James’ feet, blade-first. “Take your shot.”
James didn’t hesitate, snatching up the axe. It was swinging for Lancewood almost faster than James could think it. I beat you once already, you-
The axe came within a foot of Lancewood, who didn’t flinch, eyes on James. The axe stopped instantly, before the blade could reach his throat. James blinked, trying to figure out what had happened. He couldn’t pull back the Axe.
And then they saw it, like a curtain was being pulled back in the air. It was a man, with radiant white clothes, so bright and clean that they seemed to glow. The glow was much brighter coming from his face and hands. Hands that had caught the axe by the blade; unharmed.
And he had wings, folded neatly against his shoulder-blades.
James released the axe instinctively, expecting to be struck down dead any second. Lancewood just watched, neither of the two men saying a word, as the Angel took the axe and set it down at the woodpile. The figure faded into invisibility a moment later, but there was no doubt he was still there.
James stared at the place where it had been for several seconds, before his brain caught up and he turned on Lancewood. “You knew.” He accused. “You knew that would happen.”
Lancewood nodded, amused and… disappointed? “I first arrived back among the living six years ago. I went looking for my old masters. They aren’t here yet. I went looking for my wife, who died from the pox, and found out she’d had my son while I was at sea.” He gestured at the hut. “They came back together, eight months ago. My wife was quite insistent that we have some time alone together before… anything else.”
“None of which explains the…” James rubbed his face hard and cursed fluently as a sailor could. “&$#!, I can’t even say the word.”
“Angel.” Lancewood supplied. “Why do you think I agreed to come out here? You weren’t the only pirate I was able to turn in for a reward. I made a living at it for a while.”
“How did you ever get away with that more than… once…” James smirked savagely. “Ah. Because all the people you crossed were executed before they could tell others. Your cover was intact, you got your blood money; and you’d do it again.”
“Until you.” Lancewood agreed. “The Angels prevent any of the ‘old scores’ from being settled in a moment of anger.” He looked James over with the same cunning grin he had when he admitted poisoning the Stargazer Crew. “I’ve heard some of them stop an attempted murder in a little more… permanent way.”
“You were hoping the Angel would execute me.” James said, unsurprised. “You haven’t changed a bit; handing over an enemy to the nearest authority figure; let them do the dirty for you.”
Lancewood almost laughed. “Would have been a delicious irony. The man who killed me lying dead at my feet, while I live out my time in paradise.” He sent a glance upward, as though it was a private joke. “But of course, the current World Power doesn’t fall for that trick quite as easily as the Spanish or the Dutch ever did.”
“Live out your time?” James repeated. “So you haven’t joined the Ranks, then?”
“Neither have you.” Lancewood gestured at the axe. “Obviously. So how did you find me?”
“I didn’t.” James said honestly. “Some time before we met, my ship was attacked by a Pirate Hunter who had tracked several of my kind. I defeated their Captain, scuttled their ship… But in the Captain’s Cabin, I found several Rutters.”
Lancewood nodded, unsurprised. “The Pirates he caught all had their own Havens. You could remember all that?”
James tapped his temple with one finger. “I never wrote anything down. Anything put on paper could be found by, for example, a new First Mate who was secretly working for the authorities.”
Lancewood nodded, conceding that point. “I can imagine how disappointed you are, traveling across the ocean from memory, looking for other Pirates and finding me.”
“To say the least.” James agreed. “So, you haven’t thrown in with the current Authorities. And you don’t plan to, do you?”
“Are you kidding? This is my holy paradise, right here.” Lancewood gestured around. “Eileen hated her old life, too. Marrying a sailor was her way of escaping her family; and she never got more than a year to enjoy her life. She’s as happy as I am to live here, out of touch. ‘Off-Grid’ the people here call it. Eat fruits right off the vine all morning, siestas in the afternoon, play with the kid all evening… Do it all again the next day. Live healthy right up until your time runs out, instead of slowly rotting away…”
“Runs out?”
“You didn’t stay with them long, did you?” Lancewood mocked him. “We get one lifetime to make a decision. People who bow and scrape for the High Authority get longer.”
“Like always.” James scoffed, unsurprised. “You don’t want that? Your kind always looks out for number one.”
“What? Spend eternity hanging around the world with you?” Lancewood cackled. “I’ve got a lot of enemies, Captain. So do you. We’re safe from them, but it’s not like people forget these things.” He gestured. “Look at you. You saw me again and your first thought was to kill me twice.”
“And failed. I don’t buy it. You’re a practical man.” James shook his head.
Lancewood almost smiled. “I thought it was worth waiting for people to… stop looking up their enemies. This world has all sorts of delightful possibilities. And with my Patrons all gone...”
James nodded, unsurprised. “You still have a retirement plan in place, then?”
“You very nearly derailed it.” Lancewood chuckled. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this world, it’s that time heals everything. I have found one or two things that are sure to be worth a pretty penny.”
“I don’t know. What I’ve seen suggest that money and power matter less to the people here.”
“Money and power always matter.”
James shook his head, disgusted. “You never knew what I wanted those treasures for. That’s why you don’t deserve them. Particularly now. You don’t understand, and you don’t care.”
“James.” He scoffed. “I never pretended that I did.”
Long silence. These men were enemies, but they had no way to fight anymore, and no real reason beyond old grudges. Eileen chose that moment to put herself back in the conversation. “So, is our guest staying for dinner?”
“No.” Both men said in perfect unison, in full agreement on that point.
“My ship has been at sea for quite a while.” James put in. “I’ll need to resupply; but I can do that myself.”
“Not at all.” Eileen said. “There’s trees all over the cove with edible fruits on them. Hundreds of them, in fact.”
“There are?” James asked Lancewood in surprise.
“Looks like the world never bothered much with this island chain.” Lancewood excused. “The centuries passed, the fruits that your early Brethren ate rotted away and the seeds grew wild into orchards.”
“There’s far more than we can eat.” Eileen said. “And several freshwater streams. Take all you can.”
James gave the woman a grateful nod, and gestured at Lancewood. “You’re too good for him.”
~oo00oo~
Atxi worked with the Restoration. It was good work. Honest work. Atxi had spent too long slaving for the Temple. She was busy here, and she could see good things coming from her work.
The people were friendly, and the food was excellent… And Atxi hated it. She was going through the motions. The world was a beautiful, gentle place… And she had never felt so lost.
The others made an effort to reach out to her. They always included her in conversations, and in their work and play. But she couldn’t relax around them, because they were Believers; and Atxi had lost all faith she’d ever had in anything. Jehovah was the centre of their lives; in the way the Temple and Calendar had been for her.
Every single bit of the world was a reminder of her old one, and that was a source of constant anger and betrayal. Towards God. Towards the Priest. Towards anyone she could reach. Atxi was hurting, deep in her soul. On a spiritual, emotional, soulful level; she was full of anger like there would never be anything else.
“The worst part, is that on some level, you want to be like them.” A voice said.
Atxi jumped, shaken from her thoughts.
The man who met her reminded her of the soldiers back home. Same ramrod posture, same steel in his gaze. “I’ve been where you are. You’re the loneliest person in the world right now. Even your gods are gone to you.”
Atxi nodded.
“And to add insult to injury, they offer you their own faith as an alternative.” He said darkly. “As though we’d be so quick to embrace another, after our own has turned to smoke.”
Atxi nodded. “That’s it. These people… Their God is everything to them. He’s the sun coming up in the morning, and the food on their table, and the clothes on their back, and the air in their lungs. I get why they want us to care as much as they do. But I just… I can’t do it. I believed in Huitzilopochtli every bit as much as they do in Jehovah. I’m not that… cheap; flitting from one sacred truth to another like they were nothing.”
“I agree.” The man smiled, pleased with that answer. “My name is Titanus, and I come from a small community that wants what you want. To be left alone long enough to sort things out.”
Atxi bit her lip.
“These people are all very polite about it, but they only think one way is right for everyone.” Titanus pressed gently. “And that’s just not the way people are.”
~oo00oo~
The night sky was clear and bright with millions of stars. James crept from one shadow to another, his feet making no sound. It had been a while since his thefts had included straight up burglary, but you didn’t forget such skills.
Lancewood was the first person to have a lock on his door. But locks and bars meant nothing to James, who was able to get inside fairly easily.
The small home had been hand-built, which meant if Lancewood had any hiding places for valuables, he would have installed them himself. James and Lancewood were both sailors. They were used to tight living conditions with limited privacy. So he knew where the hiding places would be.
After only a few minutes creeping around, James had found a package, wrapped in oilskin cloth; and made his way back outside.
Lancewood had apparently found one prize. It was a large emerald, cut so perfectly that even in the thin moonlight, it seemed to glow. James had heard of this stone. It was on the target list of many Pirates. How Lancewood had gotten hold of it, James had no idea. But in the same package was a roll of papers, with coded writings. But it was a pirate code, and James was able to read it as naturally as The King’s Good English.
Lancewood had been trying to track down the Captain’s Share from the Stargazer.
Of course… James thought gleefully. All the other pirates he crossed had their plunder seized by his patrons. Stargazer went down with all hands, and Lancewood doesn’t know I got my own Treasure Chest into a lifeboat first…
James felt better. He had his old mission again, and a chance to make it right after all.
~oo00oo~
Atxi had missed her shift with the Restoration Teams. When she didn’t show up at lunch either, Irsu went looking for her. When he knocked on her door at the Dorm, it swung open; not latched.
At the small desk, there was a note, with his name written on it.
Irsu,
I have some things to think about. And I do appreciate the effort you’ve put into taking care of me. I know this isn’t what you wanted me to decide. But I have to get away from this. I can’t see the world for what it is when I only see what you and the others point out to me.
This might turn out to be a mistake, but if it is, I’m grateful for all that you’ve taught me. If this goes terribly wrong, I’ll have the memory of your help to guide me back. And the memory of home, to weigh against what I find.
Please don’t try to find me.
Atxi.
~oo00oo~
James had returned to New Roma. He’d gotten a hooded look or two at the dock, but he had the papers now. The Ship was his, legally. And it was the only place in the world that he had current information on.
There were no shortage of Independent Investigators. Most people came back to life with questions. The New World was only two centuries old, and had a lot of loose ends. James knew how to track down information in Sailor’s Taverns, but there wasn’t really any of the gossip and information dealing. But after asking around in likely places, people directed him to Theodore Mallory.
Mallory was an investigator.
“Information ain’t hard to come by.” Mallory told him. “But the facts are only half the story. And the further into yesterday you go, the less facts you have on hand, until someone comes back who can fill in those blanks.”
James nodded. “Where were you?” He asked. It was practically the standard question for a first conversation.
“1956.” Mallory reported. “I was a Private Eye. Uncle Sam taught me good on the fine art of seein’ round corners; and after having made it through Normandy, I was hard to shock when weeping housewives showed up at my shingle with the usual brand of sneakin’ suspicions that their Misters were doing the two-timing mambo.”
The Former Pirate stared at him blankly. “Was any of that… real words?”
“I’m a professional investigator; formerly a soldier.” Mallory tried again. “After the War, I used to make my living finding out if some married man or woman was being cheated on. When I came here, I figured I needed a new racket, but it turns out almost everyone who comes back from the dead is looking for something. A lot of people are looking for someone. A lot more want to know how their story was told after they died.”
James nodded. “Now, that I understand.”
“So. What are you looking for?” Mallory asked. “Because I can tell you right now: If it’s an object that would last that long, or a person who wasn’t around on A-Day, I can find it. It might take a century, if it’s long enough ago that I gotta wait for a witness to rise from the grave. But there’s no such thing as a Cold Case anymore… And I don’t pad my expenses like I used to.”
James put the page down on the table and slid it over. Lancewood would be screaming when he found out his wishlist was gone; but he’d be looking for James to get it back; and not this man. “I was a Pirate, in what history remembers as ‘The Golden Age of Piracy’. I was beaten, trying to get these things off my ship before she was sunk.”
Mallory looked over the list. “What happened to the ship?”
“It was sunk, shortly after I died.” James reported. “I did my best to put the pieces together myself. The area she sank in wasn’t traveled real well. There was a reference in a Spanish Naval Record, which said only that a Pirate Ship with the name ‘Stargazer’ written on the side was engaged in heavy fog, and sunk. No survivors were found. That was the end of the story, until early 2005; when a communications company was making a survey, in preparation for laying undersea cables. Apparently, they stumbled onto the wreck. The wreck was explored, and apparently whatever was on board got sent around to various museums and private collections.”
“If the treasures have already been recovered, then you probably wouldn’t have much trouble finding them again… And you know that, or you wouldn’t have a list of ‘missing’ items.” Mallory looked to the page that James had slid him, and smothered a cunning look. “Because you were already off the ship, and the choicest prizes went with you.”
“You’re perceptive, Mister Mallory.” James nodded. “I had everything on that list, except the Cross of Corinth. I went back aboard to get the last item… and then I failed to get out again. But the boat I had lowered with my own sea chest was already at the waterline… If the things in that chest weren’t on the recovery list? Odds are it didn’t sink. Someone would have found it when the smoke cleared.”
“Mm. And if a Spanish Captain decided to keep one box a secret when reporting a Pirate ship destroyed, who’d bother to look?” Mallory studied the list. “Very well.”
James looked at him sideways. “No… comments?” He probed. “Most people have something to say about my priorities.”
Mallory shrugged. “I’m not your father. My contribution to the world is helping people close the book on their unfinished stories; not review how good the story is.”
James gave a single nod. “Understood. There are worse things to contribute.”
~oo00oo~
James returned to his ship, and found he had a customer waiting. “Hello, again.”
“Hello.” Atxi said, slinging a travel-bag over her shoulder. “I was wondering if you were heading south any time soon.”
“I can be.” James nodded. “But, just so you know, we’d still be the only two people on the ship. I haven’t assembled a crew; and I’m not sure I’d need one, with all the shiny things on my bridge.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Atxi said lightly. “I don’t think anyone’s ‘unchaperoned’ anymore, but as it happens: There will be someone joining us.”
“I’m jealous.” James said promptly, with a good-natured leer. “Who else is coming?”
“Titanus” A voice said, and James turned to see the man coming, with a bag of his own. “Pleased to meet you, Captain.” James shook his hand automatically, and the soldier didn’t let go for a long moment, studying James’ face.
It was a reaction that James was becoming used to. The signs of age were a clear signal to everyone else in the world that he was not ‘part of the family’, and it generally moved people to treat him like a three-legged puppy. There had been no anger, or any of the ‘us-and-them’ that James had been accustomed to, but it happened everywhere he went. In a world full of evangelists, he was fast running out of places where nobody would preach to him.
But this look was different. This one was a look of camaraderie. The older-looking Roman apparently viewed James as having something in common with himself. The signs of age made it clear what that was.
“If you don’t have any plans, Captain, you should come with us.” He said with an expression the Pirate recognized from all the conspiracies he’d planned in his old life. “We have a lot to discuss. Something that may be profitable for you in the long run.”
Finally, someone who speaks my language. “By all means.” James agreed. “We cast off in five minutes.”
No comments:
Post a Comment