There was a Welcoming Committee of course, and James and Karen had to wait for people to step off the airship, lugging their bags and their cargo. James was impressed. The Airship easily carried as much cargo as his yacht could, plus a lot more people.
When they got aboard, he was even more impressed. The interior was so luxurious. Captain Diaz was showing a small group of people around. “The idea of these airships was to provide an experience halfway between a luxury train and a small cruise ship. The technology was around in the 1930’s, and was refined for the modern day after A-Day changed the rules. Once aloft, these ships never need to come down, provided they are treated right. Since hazardous weather is no longer an issue, and nobody’s in a hurry; that makes an airship the ideal way to travel the New World.” She smiled at them. “Of course, I may be slightly biased.”
~oo00oo~
The Tour of the Airship was informative and interesting. It was kept aloft on technology and chemistry that James had no hope of understanding.
The Tour included a brief stop on the bridge. James noted the crew was still working, even as people walked through their workspace. “Look.” He nudged Karen. “That old steering wheel mounted on the wall? It’s the original steering wheel from the first Stargazer. I recognize the pattern of the wood like the back of my hand. That’s the same wheel I steered her by.”
Karen let out a low whistle as the tour moved on, not noticing James subtly checking for signs of security.
James noted that the ship was designed to be plush and comfortable. It was a leisure craft as much as a working craft. There was a small gallery along the Starboard Promenade, with the observation windows on one side, and a row of models and artworks on the other side. James recognized one of the models instantly. It was the Man-of-War Stargazer. His old ship. And right next to it was the figurehead, painted up and looking brand new.
Karen observed James staring at the figurehead earnestly. “Usually, it’s supposed to be mounted on the prow, but…”
“It’s more a Museum Piece than an actual part of the airship.” James nodded, not offended. He just kept gazing up at it. The figurehead was of a woman with long hair, swept back. It had been underwater for centuries, dug up and restored beautifully. It almost looked brand new.
Karen noted his reaction. “Who is she?” She guessed the question. “I mean, I assume the carving was based on someone…”
James blinked hard, realizing how long he’d been staring. “My mother.” He said quietly. “She died before I got my own ship, but...” He shook his head. “Nearly started a mutiny against myself.”
“Why?”
James smothered a grin. “Sailors were a superstitious bunch back then. The sight of a woman’s bare chest was believed to calm angry seas, so figureheads mounted on the prows of a ship were… well, topless.”
Karen smothered a laugh. “But this one was based on your mom, so you painted clothes on her.”
“I didn’t want to forget her.” James whispered. “It’s unbelievable, seeing her face again. This ‘statue’ went ahead of me every course I charted. She’s been sunk, forgotten, rediscovered, restored, lived through the world ending and being remade…”
“You know that the real thing will come back too, James.” Karen said quietly. “We don’t understand the order, but sooner or later, your actual mom will be back.”
“We all will.”
James felt his heart stop, then start to race as he turned around to face… “Smitty?!”
His old friend came over, his face unchanged by the passage of years. His clothing said he was part of the airship crew. “Good to see you again, Cap’n.”
James took a step back automatically as Smitty came within reach, and the other man settled, recognizing that this was not going to be the happiest of reunions. His eyes flicked to Karen. “Miss.” He bowed. “Gerret Van Beek, at your service.”
“Gerret?” James repeated. “I… I would have looked you up, but you never gave me your right name.”
“I would have looked you up too, Cap’n; but… well.”
“You didn’t think I’d be here?” James guessed.
Smitty shrugged. “I didn’t know for sure, and I figured if you wanted to see me, you would.” He almost laughed. “I forgot to put ‘Smitty’ in the database. My fault.”
James watched carefully. Smitty was happy to see him? “I’m… I’m sorry, Smitty.”
His old friend was immediately at his side, embracing him. “Me too, James. Me too.”
~oo00oo~
“I only know a little about the Witnesses. I met one, back in the day.” Walter’s father nodded as they walked. “There was one in the Retirement Home. His name was Martin; and he noticed that I didn’t have many visitors; so I sat in on a few studies with him. He had people coming to take him to his Meetings.”
The implication was subtle, reminding Walter that he’d never so much as called his father once putting him in the Home. But the conversation had gone in an unexpected direction. After an hour of rehearsing what he’d say, how he’d say it, what his father would respond with, and how Walter would use his responses; this was a direction that had never occurred to him. “So you know about… All of this?”
“Well, I know they were expecting something like this.” His Senior nodded, head on a swivel as he tried to take everything in at once. “I never believed it, of course, but… Here it is.” He looked sideways at Walter, making comparisons silently between the rest of the people in view and the sight of his elderly son. “How long have you been back?”
“A while.” Walter told his senior, not wanting to go into it.
Senior nodded. “I should start here. I owe you an apology.”
Walter blinked again. Two unexpected statements in one minute. This was getting serious. “Apology for what?”
“Biting your head off over your trust funds. It was your money. I was just…” Walter Senior shook his head, and bent down to pet the puppy. “I worked so hard to get you that start in life. I started out with nothing. You know the story, I told it to you enough times. Living on hand-me-downs, scraping for work…”
“I know the story, dad.” Walter said sullenly. “I made it work. I made something of myself.”
“Yes, you did.” His father agreed readily. “But I had thirty years on you, and I knew what you didn’t. When you’re at the end of the movie, you only dream of fixing a few bad moments. I took out my own issues on you when I cut you off. I’m glad you rebounded; but I hate the way we left things. And don’t pretend that’s why you suddenly got so ‘busy’ when your mother took off. I would have given anything to make that right.”
Is that why he kept calling, at the end? Walter felt a lump in his throat. This wasn’t going the way he planned it out at all. “Well…” He said finally. “While we’re on the subject, I’m sorry too. Mom took off because you weren’t rich anymore; and that part of it was my fault. You did work really hard. Harder than even I knew. You know how thin the line is between accepting a little help, and being someone’s prisoner.”
“I do.”
“A mistake I vowed never to make. And I never did.” Walter said proudly. “I made the Dean’s List; then Valedictorian, then I-”
“It’s beautiful here.” His father said suddenly. “Look at that!”
Derailed, Walter followed his father’s finger; to where he was pointing at the Labrador puppy. The young canine had run ahead of them, and was now playing with a large cat. “Is that a Mountain Lion?”
“A Lynx. The animals tend to come and go as they like. I never appreciated how much of the climate was comfortable for animals, even in civilization. They aren’t in any danger anymore, so they tend to come and go.”
The pup barked and came back over to Walter, crouching in front of him, front legs out; asking to play. Walter-Senior laughed and found a stick to throw. The dog took off after it instantly.
Walter looked over. His father was crying. “Are you okay?”
“I feel like a fool.” His father admitted. “Rightly, and happily so. I spent a week with the Witnesses because I was so cosmically lonely, just marking time in an old age home. I liked them. They were nice. But I figured I was too far along to make such a total change, and I didn’t really know if I believed a word they were saying… But it got me to thinking. About my death. My soul. I had no clue of what was next. Wondering if I should pray for heaven, or expect hell; and no idea of who I should pray to. I just never gave it much thought. Life was so hard and took so much time to survive that I never gave much thought to an afterlife. It took everything I had to keep my head above water, leave any kind of helping hand for my son… I literally had nothing else left.”
Walter nodded. “I knew you’d understand. Why it’s important to look out for yourself; take care of business first and make sure to plan long-term for your security. I didn’t say it enough, but those have been my guiding principles for my entire life. Making a decent stockpile in this world is harder, since everyone’s so relaxed about it, but-”
“You must be glad you can stop, huh?”
Totally derailed, yet again, Water had nothing for a long moment. “Glad?” He repeated. “What do you mean?”
“The pressure is off now.” His father said, tears in his eyes. “I admit, I don’t know much; but what I heard about this world in three meetings suggested that everyone would live forever.” He looked at his son again. “I guess ‘forever’ doesn’t mean ‘forever young’ necessarily-”
“It does.” Walter corrected automatically, and immediately wished he hadn’t.
Silence. His father took that in, processing, looking at Walter, then down at himself, then over at the family reunion taking place, calculating everyone’s relative ages, working something out… until finally it hit him.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” His father scorned.
“It’s not what you think!” Walter insisted, feeling about five years old again. “You always said ‘religion is a fairy tale for grownups’.”
“Yes, I did. And I believed that, right up to the moment I died. And for me, that was ten minutes ago. But a lot’s happened since then.” His father returned. “I’ve been in this world ten minutes. I had three lessons to prepare me for it; and the one thing I already know for sure is that if God raises you from the dead and offers you eternal youth, the correct response is: ‘Thank You’!”
Walter erupted. “You’ve been back ten minutes, and already you’re ashamed of my life choices! I don’t expect other people to understand my reasoning, but I did think that you, of all people, might have a clue. You spent thirty years working like a dog just to keep your head above water! I would think that you, of all people, would understand what real life is like.”
“I looked back on thirty years of working like that, and I realized one thing.” His father snapped. “That’s not a Real Life.”
“And you’re so sure this is?” Walter scorned.
“Walter, if I could have had a week when the water wasn’t rising anymore, what do you think I would have done with it?” His father demanded. “Because I tell you this, I wouldn’t have spent it working! Money opened all the doors back then. If God opens all the doors in this one, to say nothing of the fact that He’s Real at all, and created a Paradise… How does that not change everything?”
It was enough. Walter’s face had turned to stone, and he withdrew into himself; the way he did with everyone else who had preached at him over the years; telling him something he didn’t want to hear. And now that his own father was the same, Walter was finally past the point of caring, completely fed up; alone in the world. “Yeah.” He said flatly. “Anyway, I’m your Welcoming Committee. Follow me. I’ll show you where to go next. So you can catch up on the 23rd Century.”
His father slumped a bit, knowing he’d pushed too far. It was an old argument with a new coat of paint, but they’d fallen straight back into old patterns.
~oo00oo~
The Reunion between James and Smitty was tense for a few minutes, but Karen was there; and that kept the peace. Aware of the tension, Karen made sure to get the conversation moving. She had questions about their adventures; and it was enough to break the tension. Once they got talking, and trading war stories, the two men were suddenly old friends again.
It took James several minutes to realize why they fell back into old patterns so quickly. After an hour, Smitty had to excuse himself and return to his duties on the ship; and James had a chance to talk about it with Karen.
~oo00oo~
“You’d think Diaz would let him have the day.” Karen commented. “The sudden reunions are a universal event now. Everyone will have a few.”
“It’s the life.” James wasn’t bothered by it. “The Ship always comes first. This thing may sail the skies, but a ship is a ship.” He sent Karen a glance. “And to be honest, it might be best to take this one minute by minute. Thank you, by the way.”
“I can read a room well enough to know what’s not being said.” Karen nodded. “In time, observation is a talent you can raise to near telepathy. It seemed a good idea to keep the conversation moving.”
“And it worked, too.” James observed. “But it took me a while to figure it out: Smitty isn’t angry. He was nervous, he was worried; but he isn’t holding a grudge.”
“Why do you think he was nervous?” Karen asked.
James scowled at her.
“No, really.” Karen pressed. “He’s been here long enough to get a job on Diaz’s ship. He can see you’re growing old and grey; and there’s nobody alive who doesn’t know what that means. I’m betting he also knows you can’t hurt him, at all; not even by accident. So what was he nervous about?”
James scowled a little harder; the guilt gnawing at him. “Not everything we lost with the last world was bad.”
~oo00oo~
Walter had taken his father to the Dorms; and set him up with a more experienced brother to teach him about the world. Walter felt sick as he walked the street. There were people playing music, kids playing games; and the dog keeping perfect pace with him, but he barely registered any of it. He and his father had never been close. There were harsh words and hard feelings between them, like many other families. And yet within five minutes of learning that Paradise was real, his father had asked forgiveness for his part of the feuds, and taken the same position as everyone else in the world; telling him off in a way that nobody else had… But Walter knew they had all wanted to.
“The Lord helps those who help themselves.” A young voice said.
Walter jumped, and spun around. A face he hadn’t seen in years looked back at him. “You again. Why are you here?”
The Boy pointed at the people down the street, playing music. “Just enjoying the tune.”
“Can you enjoy our music?” Walter asked curiously. "When you and the others like you hear our music, our jokes... Do you like it?"
The Boy’s head tilted. "There's a little girl in the Far East. She's realized that tapping her mother's rice pot with a wooden spoon creates a note. She will not become a musician, or have any interest in music. But right now, she's put together a series of seven tones that makes her crying baby brother sit and listen. I can hear the baby making the first connections in his brain. At two months old, he's intrigued by a 'song' that has big sister just made up. There's a man climbing one of the mountains along the Appalachian Trail. He's whistling a tune to the birds. He thinks he heard the song somewhere and forgot most of it. He doesn't realize that he imagined it himself. It will take him many decades to turn that bridge into a full piece of music. He doesn't even know how to play, yet. But he just conceived the first notes of his magnum opus. Any other point in history, that song would stop there. He'd go back to work, and he'd work hard every day, without ever thinking about taking up an instrument ever again, because he just doesn't have the time."
Walter had nothing to say to that. “The Lord helps those who help themselves.” He repeated finally. “That’s not actually in the Bible, is it?”
“No.” The Boy said simply. “But you knew that.”
Silence.
“It wasn’t greed, y’know.” Walter said finally. “Everyone thinks I was greedy, but I wasn’t.”
“No.” The Boy agreed. “But for the record, that wasn’t your sin.”
“Then what was it?”
“Convenience. You expected God to look the other way, just as you did; because it was convenient for you that He do so.”
“It’s not as simple as that.” Walter countered. “You of all people should know that.” His tone was accusing, but that was a facade. “Before you get off telling me that I was a moral failure, just remember I’ve got a few years of Sunday School with me on this; even before coming here. Maybe I exploited a few people, but it was your kind who did so much damage to the world that a Flood was needed; just to break even.”
The Boy gave a nod, conceding the point. “Granted, but when a Flood was needed, God didn’t hesitate.”
“The Bishops, the Cardinals… They all came to me to plead the case about helping the poor, looking for sponsors for homeless shelters.” Walter scorned. “I signed my name, and those shelters took in thousands of people a year. The Social Groups and Charities? They came to me to plead for the sake of the hungry. I signed my name and Soup Kitchens opened. God didn’t make that happen. I did. Even the Churches knew that. They tell their rubes that prayer helps, but they came to me when they wanted something to actually get done.”
“What about Walt?” The Boy asked.
Walter froze.
“Your son wanted to know how he could help, in a personal way. Signing your name fed the hungry and clothed the cold, but it was as simple to you as writing your name. Did you even listen when those people came and told you how bad it was getting?”
“My son did.” Walter sighed, conceding that.
“Your boy wanted to see a world that billions of people lived in, instead of the life he’d been born to. He looked for someone to show him how to do good in the world. And you told him-”
“I didn’t want my little boy in those churches. When the Holy Men of the world wanted to help the poor, they prayed real hard. But nothing changed, until they prayed to me for help!”
“Prayed to you?”
“Asked me for help.” Walter clarified quickly. “And then… Ugh, then one day they came in to talk about liability insurance.”
“Because there was a class action against the hundreds of priests who were abusing children, and you signed your name again, showing them how to hide the pay-offs, hide the assets they really had…”
“It was my job. The Churches were a firm worth billions. If I didn’t take it, someone else would have.” Walter argued. “I had a responsibility to get my client the best deal I could and keep them happy with the service I was providing! So did the other side!”
“And when Walt came to you and asked what could be done about the victims, and the desperate, and the unemployed?”
Walter stopped short suddenly. “I… I told… I said…”
“You told your sixteen year old son that ‘The Lord helps those who help themselves’. Your sin was to expect that God should look the other way; just as you did.” The Boy finished. “When you first came back to life, did it even strike you as odd that you searched for your Bank Accounts before your son?”
Walter said nothing. There was nothing to say.
The Boy nodded. “Say it. Commit to it. You want credit for your victories; you have to do the same for your mistakes. It’s not like you can keep it a secret from Him. It’s not about the money. You’re too practical to obsess for decades over something that barely matters anymore.”
Walter did a slow burn and finally said it out loud. “I don’t agree with Him.”
“Yes.” The Boy nodded. “Finally. Welcome to an honest conversation.”
Walter sat down. “You remember the story of Jonah?”
“The Story? I was there.”
Walter scoffed. “God gave Jonah an assignment he didn’t want. Jonah made a choice. He used his ‘God Given Free Will’, and he was promptly eaten for making a choice that God disagreed with. Why does God act like things are our choice if He gives us only one choice to make?”
“Because He knows better.” The Boy said simply.
“Not the point. I knew better than Walt on many occasions. My father took ten minutes to decide my life was a waste. I gave my kid life; but I don’t get to pass judgment on his choices. Why does God?”
The Boy was silent a while. “Jonah ran away because he was scared of his assignment, and he spent a few days learning that God could keep him alive and safe even after getting eaten. With that kind of protection, why wouldn’t you want to be on His Side?”
Walter snorted.
“Walter, is it better to reign in hell, than to serve in heaven?”
Walter’s head tilted. “Milton. Paradise Lost.”
The Boy nodded. “Is it so terrible to be in service to the ultimate Good, and live forever in His Kingdom? Especially given what the alternative was? Walt thought so, at least when he came to you that day.”
Walter’s face hardened. “Listen to me, you little thug: I didn’t end my son’s life. You did that on A-Day.”
“He was a grown man, capable of making his own choices.” The Boy stared him down. No anger, no judgment, only calm certainty. “As are you.”
“And anyone who makes a choice you don’t agree with, they die.” Walter scorned.
The Boy sighed. “There was a time when anyone could make a choice that disagreed with God. The result was certain extinction. If A-Day hadn’t happened, this planet would be a ruin now, never to recover. Does that really seem like there’s a huge problem with the world?”
Walter bared his teeth. “I’m dying. Slowly. Again. That seems like a problem to me.”
“There was a time, not that long ago, when people came to us because they saw something terribly wrong, and wanted to be made better. They could do that because there were people who devoted themselves to spreading that message. How would you have run the Preaching Campaign, Walter? It’s not like the Truth has ever been ‘cost effective’ in anyone’s bank account. But there are people alive today because someone made those investments. Jesus invested something as valuable as the Truth in humans; and came back to check on the result. The result was millions of lives being saved. If you had been in charge of that campaign, would you have focused on reaching people’s hearts, or would you have been looking for a way to turn a profit?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong!” Walter raged.
“And what have you done right?” The Boy shot back, as sharp as Walter had ever heard him speak. “Romans 12:21 says: ‘Do not let yourself be conquered by the evil, but keep conquering the evil with the good’. Belief and Acceptance is not a passive state. You have to take a stand, one way or another. The claim that you’ve done no evil since being Returned to Life with a totally Clean Slate is tenuous at best; and what of the good?”
Walter said nothing for a moment. “Mickey thought I had helped. Here, and in OS.”
“Yes.” The Boy let him chew on that a moment before he spoke again. “You speak of your merits, and the value of what you have done. The Truth is a responsibility and a privilege, even more so than material power.” The Boy let him think on that for a second. “What would you think of a wealthy man who was wasteful, who was frivolous, and threw his fortune away on foolish diversions?”
Walter looked down. The puppy was looking up at him earnestly. “I would think that he’d run out and be left with nothing, soon enough.”
“Yes.” The Boy said simply; and he faded from view before Walter could argue the point.
~oo00oo~
Once the Tour was over, The Stargazer put up a dinner for their passengers. Smitty had quietly given James a table pass. “So, do I get the truth now?” Karen asked after a discreet interval.
“What do you mean?” James had picked at his food.
“I asked you what this was all about, really. You said getting those trinkets back wasn’t about the money. I asked you what you really wanted; and you said if I came to London, I’d find out.”
“Oh. I guess I did, didn’t I?” James sighed.
“Why is it so important?” Karen asked pointedly. “I’ve been listening to you and ‘Smitty’ trade war stories for an hour. You guys got all kinds of shiny things; but you weren’t interested in recovering any of it. You know that money isn’t an issue anymore. And if it was, we wouldn’t care about Royal Trinkets like crowns and necklaces. Of all the treasures you were trying to track down, why was that Cross so important? Smitty tells me you killed yourself trying to get it back when the Stargazer sank. Why did that one matter to you enough to go back for it?”
James considered his answer, before deciding it didn’t matter anymore. “The cross was my final move.”
Karen clearly didn’t understand.
James looked around. “Come with me.”
~oo00oo~
He led the way back to the bridge of the Stargazer. At that time of night, there was nobody there, while it was tethered. James lead the way over to the old steering wheel, mounted on the wall. There was still a notch in it from Scarlett’s sword; and James ran a finger over it as he spoke.
“If I’m right,” James drawled. “And if nobody found it…” He produced his knife and started poking around at the base of the steering wheel support, before he found what he was looking for and plunged the blade deeply into the wood.
“What are you doing?” Karen hissed.
James worked the knife, until something cracked, and he levered the wood apart. “Hundreds of years of salt water and retouching have sealed the compartment shut, but it’s still here.” He withdrew an oilskin rag, and very carefully drew out a rolled parchment in a thin metal canister. “It’s held up remarkably well.”
“What is it?” Karen was intrigued.
“My Original Sin.” James said quietly.
~oo00oo~
They had left their clandestine visit to the Bridge and returned to the common area, choosing a place where they could speak, unobserved. It struck James with a sense of Deja Vu. He’d had dozens of private conferences like this with clients and conspirators.
Karen had unrolled the parchment carefully, and pressed it gently in a protective plastic coating. “Where did that come from?” He asked.
“They have nametags for the crew and VIPs. There’s a laminator kit on board.” Karen explained, smiling impishly. “I’m sure nobody will notice me borrowing one sleeve.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, ‘Borrow’, in the less traditional sense.”
James grinned. “Pirate.” He teased.
Karen was looking over the parchment, able to study it closely now that it was protected. “I can’t read the words. Whatever Translation Magic we enjoy here, it doesn’t extend to ‘ye olde writing’ languages.”
“It’s a commission.” James explained. “You asked why I wanted that Cross back in particular? Back then, the Church decided who got Salvation or Damnation. But they could be bought. I know people who did way worse than I did, but every now and then, a job would come along. A local Lord who wasn’t paying the proper tithe, or knew something a Cardinal would rather not get out. A man could buy his soul back if he had something-”
“Something to Ransom it with.” Karen said with grim irony. “You stole something you knew the Church would want back.”
“The Church, and whatever feudal lord happened to be begging for their approval. It wasn’t just the Cross. The Cross of Corinth could make me a prosperous Land Owner in any Dutch territory. The Necklace would fetch a full pardon from the Royalty of Spain. The Scepter was a personal prize, craved by several English Dukes, who would have had no problem offering me a title if I could bring it to them…”
“And ‘the truly precious things stop moving’.” Karen laughed, quoting the conversation they had before leaving for London. “You were ransoming your freedom.”
“Freedom is everything, Miss Karen. Freedom is life. Money was just a means to get that. Money gave you options beyond working to death like my family did.” James said seriously. “I turned criminal, because I could see how every law, every lawmaker was only interested in their own personal pleasures and profits. The world was divided up by Kings and Popes and money changers; and they drew lines on a map to decide who got what. People who lived in those places died at the whims of powerful people they’d never heard of. Whenever the lines shifted, people like me died for it.”
“And you bleed for no flag.” Karen finished. “You know, back in OS, we talked about the big three tools that the world used to put pressure on people. False Religion, Big Money, and Political Powers. That woman we met today, Atxi? Her burdens are what false religion left with her. I thought your thing was money. Turns out it’s Political instead.”
James nodded, unconcerned. “You asked me once what I’d do with any of the things I’d taken. It’s not what they were, it’s what they were worth. Everyone wants their own back.” James shook his head, rolled his eyes skyward, looking askance. “I’ve been chasing it since I was old enough to Mutiny against my worst Captain. Trying to beat the Kings and Nobles at their own game, and win my own piece of their Kingdom, where I rule and they don’t.” He looked over at her. “But none of them are here. I can have my own Piece given to me.”
“No charge.” Karen confirmed. “You’re doing better than I thought you would, just getting that far in your reasoning. That does raise the question, though. What’s holding you back? By now you must know for sure that there’s no Kings and Popes left. No borders, or warrants. You can sail anywhere you like, make your home in any port. There isn’t even a language barrier anymore. You can go in peace, end up wherever leaving takes you; and do it forever.”
“And all I have to do is kneel and say ‘please’.” James scorned.
“You know it’s not the same thing. You hated the way ‘power’ played games with the lives of people. God doesn’t play dice, James.”
“I know. But he wants the same thing every other King and Prince wanted: My submission.” He shook his head. “I’ll never do that. Not even for this beautiful world.”
“Even the Kings were brought low before God, James.” She quipped back, also not pushing the argument. They settled for a while, saying nothing; until she finally broke the comfortable silence. “By the way… I know why it was me.”
James blinked. “Why what was you?”
“Why I was assigned to meet you when you returned. It wasn’t what I could offer you. It’s what I could learn from you. My first time on a boat with you, and I saw the whale...” Karen looked off at something only she could see. “I went looking for more information about the Humpback we saw. And while I was looking at that species, I found out a few things about other types. And as long as I was learning about ocean creatures, I decided to look a little closer at ocean ecology…”
“And all free of charge.” James said in dull awe.
“The world is a better place if people are educated. Why would we make that prohibitive?” Karen asked rhetorically. “I learned something pretty interesting about the world, and about myself. I went back to school just to see how interesting it could be.”
“The Ocean can do that to a person.” James said with experience.
Karen grinned. “I love it, James. I had no idea that I would, but I love the ocean. I never even saw one back in OS. Plenty of pool parties, plenty of Yacht Parties, but we never actually went out past the dock.” She shook her head. “Who would ever think that I’d be interested in Oceanography?”
“You’d be surprised the people who wind up on the Ocean, luv.” James wasn’t surprised. “You wouldn’t be the first heiress who wanted something strange and wonderful.”
“‘Strange and wonderful’ was what I could say of the whole world when I first arrived here.” Karen said lightly. “And I didn’t like it.”
He looked over. “Why? I mean, you’ve already told me that you had trouble fitting in, as I have…”
“James, all the things a person couldn’t do anymore were far outweighed by all the things we could suddenly do without limit. Once I got past my initial… Uncertainty, that was my main problem. I had absolutely no idea where I wanted to go with my life.”
“But you joined up?”
“My career and hobby options were hugely varied, and hard to choose from. Eternal life to work it out seemed just barely long enough.” She smiled at him. “You were an answer to my prayer, James. I never would have looked at the Ocean if not for you.”
James said nothing to that.
Karen leaned in, speaking more earnestly. “You say you don’t understand this world, and can’t see a place for yourself. But look around. When you were busy chasing treasure, you had people asking you about your skills. You were practically handed a job as a shipwright. Half a dozen people who grew up hearing stories about Pirates wanted to know if they could be your new crew; even if you aren’t part of the brotherhood yet. Transport and Construction are the two biggest industries on the planet right now; and you know how to build ships and sail clear across the ocean.”
James gestured at the sky. “They make Airships, Karen. You think anyone’s going to care about a six hundred year old design for a Man-Of-War Replica?”
“Why not? They care about six hundred year old people who sailed on them.” Karen shot back. “Are you telling me, that given the choice, you wouldn’t rather sail on your old ship? Even if it’s slower, and sticks to the sea, you wouldn’t want to take that route anyway?”
James hesitated. “I suppose I would. More time at sea is not a hardship for me.”
“You won’t be the only one. Some people refuse to fly, even though there hasn’t been so much as a stormy ride in centuries. But one thing I’ve learned about this world: It takes all kinds. There will always be some who want to sail on a Man-Of-War.”
“I’m one of them.” James nodded.
Silence.
“When I was twelve, I went on a ship for the first time.” James said finally. “I never wanted to be anywhere else.” He took a deep breath, finally opening up. “I went on a tour, got paid the lowest wage on the ship, and went home. I had been gone six months. In that time, the local Mayor had raised taxes enough to put half the township in a workhouse, which the local Pastor owned. They buried my family, and dozens of others, squeezing them dry for every last coin, working them until they died.” He took another breath, fortifying himself. “When they saw I was back, my parents told me to run, before I got put to work with them.” He rubbed his eyes. “The lawman said they were working off a debt, but any time they got within ten shillings of being free and clear, they’d suddenly find another debt put on top of their ledgers, clapped in irons every night.”
“So you ran.”
“I went back to my ship, asked to do another tour. They said yes, because I was small, and that meant I didn’t need to be fed or paid much. I found out as I grew up that the story was the same. The Lords, the Nobles… They could make whatever rules they wanted on a whim, and the rest of us could either starve, or go to prison and work forever.” He smiled. “But when you were out on the water, the only people were the Crew; and they all knew each other. The only people you ever see. Discipline and Authority were something of actual use when you were a sailor.”
Karen just listened, letting him pour his story out.
“I was bounced around ships for a while. Wound up as a Privateer, which is a Pirate that sailed under a national flag. Came home when I was eighteen, found my mother had been flogged for asking for an extra serving at dinner. She was giving it to the children. She never healed right, and was gone by the time I got back. My father had been executed for trying to get her medicines that he couldn’t pay for.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Karen said quietly. “You look them up?”
“Listed as ‘Pending’.” James returned to his story without missing a beat. “I went back to the ship, which sailed under the Dutch flag. The new Captain was a miserable old miser. It took me five minutes to organize a mutiny, and we went independant. I went through his papers, found out who his Patron was. Someone who owned the ship, and took a cut of the profits. I went to his Patron, and offered to take my late Captain’s place. This Patron was an investor the East India Trading Company, which were the deepest pockets in the world back then. The Patron in question had us running jobs, which weren’t strictly legal. But he owned the ship… We made a major score, enough to buy the ship off him, free and clear; and he responded by having us all arrested on some trumped up charge.”
“So he could get the money, and keep the ship for the next crew.” Karen nodded. “Cold.”
“Wasn’t even an unusual story.” James nodded. “I was Captain then, so I broke my people out, we retook our ship, and became straight up Pirates. Three different Navies put a price on my head large enough that someone finally claimed it.” James finished. “I lived my life on ships, sleeping in hammocks with sixty other guys. If I was interested in an easy life, I could have been a farm hand at any point since coming here.” He drew himself a bit taller. “But my whole career as a Pirate was based around the idea that my life, and my death, would not be decided on the whim of any Authority that proclaimed themselves to be the Last Word on what was Righteous.”
“Your career has been building to the idea that little people with a little power would give you your own idea of ‘freedom’ if you found the right trinket to dangle at them.” Karen said without mercy. “What you got, was a swift and brutal death after a life of crime trying to make it happen.” Her voice softened, suddenly gentle. “And what you’re being offered now is a world run by a legitimately all-knowing being of benevolence; who made his opening offer of eternal life and world peace, before you knew he existed.”
And James had no answer to that.
“For you, and your parents, and your crew. Including the ones you saw die.” She finished. “Forever doesn’t seem like such a long time, put like that, does it?”
~oo00oo~
James didn’t sleep that night, considering her words. Instead, he wandered the area for a while, taking in the night. He could feel this world pulling at him. As much as he didn’t think he could measure up, he found he hadn’t been that far off. The Angels kept anyone from duelling and violence, and there hadn’t been a woman who gave him any indication she was willing. At least not yet, which was patently unfair, given how flawless everyone looked.
Everyone but you. He reminded himself.
Nobody cared for money, and there were no flags at all. No flags, no kings, no nobles. That thought played on a loop until he reached the Tower again, with the Stargazer still tethered to its peak.
“So, what now?”
James turned in surprise. He was impossible to sneak up on, but he’d been so deep in thought, he hadn’t seen Smitty coming out of the building. “What do you mean?”
Smitty lifted a dusty bottle. “Drink?”
“Oh yes.” James nodded, almost relieved. “Finally, something I recognize.” He took the bottle and they went into the building and found a quiet spot near the kitchens.
“I know that look. I had it myself, when I got here.” Smitty explained as he poured for both of them. “I wasn’t one for duelling and wenching, Cap’n; but I recognized that this world was the end of how we did business, back in the day.”
“Smitty... or Gerret, I suppose... You never gave me your right name, but I knew your background. A Vicar, turned Pirate? Seems to me this is exactly the sort of place you’d like. Where hypocrites can’t get away with lies, let alone run the world.”
“Bleed for no flag.” Smitty threw back his glass at the old vow.
“Bow to no King.” James said reflexively, before he suddenly remembered the last time they had said those words to each other, not long before they had fought to the death.
Dead silence. James pulled the small parchment from his pocket, and gave it to his friend. It was faded, and ruined in spots; but it was enough for Smitty to read it. “Seriously?”
“The Cross alone would have been enough to make us all honest men again. You were a Vicar. Tell me they wouldn’t have forgiven us of all our sins for that particular bit of treasure back.”
“They would have promised our immortal souls, and deeds and titles to whatever land we wanted in a Dutch port.” Smitty didn’t hesitate to nod. “Bought and paid for.” He smirked. “Not that they could have actually provided eternal salvation.”
“They could have provided land, title, and a clear record, right enough.” James said quietly. “And for all the rest, our haul from that last run would have made us prosperous men. I wanted that for our team…” He shook his head. “Then Kent died. Twynam and Preston on the next raid…”
“You know that they’ll be back too, Cap’n.” Smitty pointed out.
James said nothing to that. “If they hadn’t been killed, I never would have needed a new First Mate. In fact, I probably would have just promoted you.”
“Nah, I’d be wasted on Command.” Smitty said, unconcerned. “Besides, we can’t say it didn’t turn out alright.”
“Turn out alright?” James repeated. “I killed you, Smitty. My best friend, and I left you to face the Spanish bas-”
“Bite your tongue.” Smitty told him sharply. “There are no more flags, no more kings. There are no Spanish, no Dutch, or French, or-”
“The people are all here, it’s the same thing.” James dismissed that instantly.
“No, Boss. No it isn’t.” Smitty insisted. “By now it’s dawned on you that everything’s different here.” He held up the preserved parchment. “Including this.”
James spoke over him. “Lancewood is here.”
That caught Smitty off guard for a second, before a sad smile. “You saw him before me. Ouch.”
James said nothing to that.
Smitty sipped his drink. “So if that was the goal…”
“Lancewood confessed to me that he’d sabotaged the cannons. Powder, fuses, one or the other.” James explained. “So we were sitting ducks. I figured the Spanish wanted prisoners, so I told you guys to go to the useless cannons, and then I took that Captain’s Chest with me for an escape.” He tapped the Parchment. “Because if I was arrested, I’d lose all those bits of Treasure, and the Mission was over. But if I got away-”
“If you escaped with the King’s Ransom, then you could come back and buy us all out of prison the next day.”
“It was a race, to see if I could get to those Lords and Dukes before the Courts got you to a Noose.” James admitted. “I figured the odds were about one in ten.”
“We beat those odds all the time, back in the day.” Smitty agreed. “And then I rumbled your escape, and drew on you.”
“It’s not like you would have believed me.” James excused. “And it was all for naught, in any event. If our cannons didn’t work, then it means the Galleons came in, guns blazing. I guess they pulled a double-cross of their own, decided not to give Lancewood anything they had promised him, even if I hadn’t got to him first.”
“Lancewood is the point.” Smitty said finally. “We didn’t have a single King, Prince, Duke, Bishop or any other blue blooded barnacle that we respected. We got the worst of them, to the point where we all swore ourselves to piracy over living under their laws.” He gestured at the parchment. “I found those kings to be an affront to honest men, and the spirit of God.” He smiled. The same smile he’d had back in the days of sailing under no flag. “Then I came here. This world has a King that can’t be corrupted, can’t be bought, can’t be cruel, can’t even lie, or be lied to.”
“You really believe that?” James asked, not angry, just curious.
“I didn’t at first, but I do now.” Smitty nodded, pouring another round. “Remember what we always said about that miserable old crow we used to call ‘Captain’, when we first started out?”
“I remember he was my first kill.”
Smitty nodded. “There wasn’t a single one of us on that ship who so much as shed a tear for him. Because he was a terrible Captain, and a worse person, and Leadership Leads. Working on that ship was a brutal beating; and the second you took over, life became better. You have a good Captain, a good King, it trickles down.” He picked up his glass. “Diaz is a good Captain. I hope you’ll take it in the right spirit when I say that I count myself lucky to find two excellent Captains, even six hundred years apart.”
James smiled and drank. “Cheers.”
James poured again. “I asked myself, what would a world look like, if God Himself was in charge of it? A loving, benevolent, all-powerful and all-knowing God; suddenly stepping in to give all the gifts he’d ever wanted to give anyone; down to and including bringing people back from the dead, so that they could receive all these blessings?” Smitty threw back the glass and poured again. “Sounds impossible, but I sat down and seriously asked myself: What would it be like, to live in a world like that?”
“And this is what you came up with.” James guessed.
“Pretty close.” Smitty nodded. “It’s a good world, James. And I’m looking at the grey hair, and the…” He trailed off. “You wear it well, but there are people here who have lived for almost three centuries and wear it a whole lot better. Know what I mean?”
“I do.” James conceded.
“Is it possible, we’ve found ourselves in a world where Justice and Peace and Goodness and Freedom of Choice is more than just a point of view; or a privilege for the wealthy?” Smitty put it to him. “Even if we had to die to get here?”
That comment made James cold dead sober again instantly. “Smitty…” He croaked. “I killed you.”
His old friend nodded, becoming somber.
“You’re here, pouring a round, asking me to gain eternal life and paradise; and the last time we spoke-”
“I drew first.” Smitty offered. “And now, it seems, for the wrong reason. I’ve never forgiven myself for that night either.”
James thumped the parchment on the table between them. “All my plans, all my ultimate goals to live like Them, and the second the noose tightened, I left you all to…” He grit his teeth hard for a moment against the drink, and the spike of emotion. “Why don’t you care?”
“Cap’n, I’ve lived for a number of years in a pretty sweet world. I can’t even remember losing the duel; it all happened so fast. That was the world we lived in, and we don’t live there anymore.”
James gripped the glass so tightly he felt it crack. “This world is everything you ever wanted.”
“And a few things I didn’t dream were possible.” Smitty nodded. “Cap’n, just tell me one thing. Am I the reason you’re holding out?”
James hesitated, and gestured at the Parchment again. “This was what I wanted for my crew. And when I found out you’d all be back, I knew sooner or later, one of you would look me up. I felt like I had to finish the mission. If I couldn’t actually give you a title and a clean slate, then I at least had to come back with more an excuse. But with the pledge, written and sealed, in one hand; and the stated price in the other...”
“And that’s why you’ve been chasing these treasures.” Smitty realized. “Because if we got here and came for you… You wanted to show us what it was all for.” He sipped. “You could have squared things with God first. It’s not like any of us could have done anything… unsavory about it.”
“Death doesn’t frighten me.” James said plainly. “I’ve even done it before. Running out of time was our entire life.” He threw back his drink. “When we became outlaws, we knew there would come a time we’d die for it. But I abandoned my crew. I had to make it right. Having the King’s Ransom to give you was the only way left.” He barely met Smitty’s eye. “It’s not like I could bring you back to life.”
“I was wondering why you never looked us up.” Smitty nodded. “I had no idea. I’ve been working on this airship since they installed the wheel and figurehead, and I had no idea that you had a hiding place in there.”
“Nobody did. I installed it myself.” James admitted. “Never would have expected to find you here at the same time.”
“Surprise.” Smitty quipped. “But if you’re telling me that-”
“It should matter.” James snapped, suddenly furious. “It should matter, dammit! I drew a sword on my best friend, and cut him down! I betrayed my private and public oaths, and left my crew to die. That should matter! There should be some consequences for that!”
“It’s not like you escaped, Cap’n. You’ve been dead for centuries.”
“So were you! At the very least, it should be enough to ruin a friendship! You should hate me! You should be allowed to hate me!”
“I am allowed.” Smitty said seriously. “It’s a big world, and plenty of people have run into old foes. Some of them handle it by agreeing to stay on opposite ends of the earth. Some of them handle it by agreeing that what they fought over is no longer valid.” He made sure James was looking at him before he said the next thought. “James, the list of ‘no longer valid’ is extremely long and varied. I haven’t seen you in twenty years, and I spent most of that time learning things and seeing things that I could never have imagined back in my old life. There hasn’t been a warrant out for either of us in seven hundred years; and there gets to be a point where you stop looking over your shoulder. It’s not a bad life, Captain.”
Silence.
James pushed the parchment over to him. “Sorry it took me so long.” He stood up to go. “Thanks for the drink.”
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