Chapter 7

September 24 / 25

 

 

          “ – hell?”

          Nick’s word echoed into the pitch black cavernous space around him.  He froze, letting his heart calm down from the adrenaline induced surge.  Only his eyes moved and they didn’t supply much information to his brain.  He couldn’t see a thing.  There was total absence of light.  He swallowed.

          “Derek ..?  You here?”

          “Yes.”

          The voice came from somewhere off to his right.  Nick turned toward it.

          “What the hell happened to us?”

          “I’m not sure.  Do you have a flashlight on you?”

          “I’m like the Boy Scouts.  Always prepared.”

          Nick dug the pencil slim flashlight from the pocket of his jeans and switched it on, narrowing his eyes and flinching at the sudden brightness, even though the slender beam wasn’t that bright.

          It swept over barrels and casks, sacks, crates and chests, then came to rest on Derek.  He looked utterly stunned.  Nick’s stomach turned over.  He didn’t like to see his Precept totally out of his depth, at a loss for words, and shocked rigid.

          “Derek ..?”

          Derek shook himself, literally.  “I’m fine.”

          “No, you’re not.  But, whatever this is, we can find a way thru it.”

          The reply stunned Nick.  “I don’t think we can, not alone.”

          “What d’you mean?”

          “We wanted to see the Santa Theresa.  More than that, we wanted to know why she haunts this stretch of ocean.  Now we’ll have the chance to see and to know, up close and very personal.  We’re on board .. and a hundred years in the past.”

 

*****

 

          Nick sat down suddenly on a barrel.  “That’s crazy,” he muttered in total disbelief.

          Derek couldn’t offer any words of sympathy or support.  He was still reeling from the discovery.

          “Look at our surroundings,” he invited.  “Do they look modern to you?  That noise you hear?  It’s creaking.  The ship’s timbers.”

          Nick couldn’t argue with that.  “But .. how?” he demanded.  “We were on the Shamrock in two thousand one.  How did we get to be on the Santa Theresa in nineteen oh one?”

          The question diverted Derek’s mind from the circumstances and gave it something positive to do.

          “Well .. the boat shuddered, as if it had hit something.  I don’t believe it did.  I believe something – all this – hit us.  We were drifting on the current and it was taking us out to sea.  Obviously, we drifted into the Santa Theresa’s path.  It probably materialized just as it hit us.  Did you feel a .. a ripping, tearing sensation?  Like .. the inside of your head was trying to burst out thru your ears?”

          Nick nodded.  “I felt disoriented, sick.”

          “The two dimensions met, very briefly, and .. I think exchanged something.  Some of this ship was left on the Shamrock.  We were taken in its place.”  He shrugged slightly, almost apologetically.  “As I said before, there must be balance.”

          Nick let out a measured breath as his head got a grip on this.  “Okay.  I can go with that.  What did you mean about we can’t find a way thru this, not alone?”

          “Nick, we are a hundred years in the past on a ship which, in ten days, is going to sink during a violent storm.  We have no way of getting a message to Alex and the others.  We won’t even be reported as missing until seven, eight o’clock tonight a hundred years from now.  Yes, we could make our way up to the deck and jump overboard, swim for shore.  Maybe even mail ourselves a letter warning us not to investigate, but none of that will get us home.  All it will do is get us to safety and provide us with the opportunity to live out the remainder of our lives here.  What we have to do is stay on board, and pray Alex can figure it out.  She is the only one who can help us.  She will have Rachel and Peri to help her, but, for now, we are on our own.  We cannot make the situation be right for exchanging us back.  It has to come from .. the future.”

          “And .. if they can’t figure it out?”

          “Then, maybe, the skeleton you found is mine.  Or yours.”

          Nick stared at him.  Derek shrugged again.

          “Alex is smart.  They are all smart.  I’m sure they’ll figure it out; at least they’ll work out what’s happened to us and where we are.”

          “And when we are.”

          “Exactly.  As for getting us home ...  Even I do not know how to do that.”

          “Maybe Peri can do something.  Make a rift or something like that.”

          “There’s no evil here.  It’s just an unfortunate coincidence we were in the wrong place at the right time.”  Derek slowly sat down on a wooden chest.  “That vision I had.  An old ship.”

          “What about it?”

          “You’re lucky that you don’t have them.  Visions,” Derek explained.  “Sometimes, they show events as they happen but they are always fragmented.  Often, they show the past, and they can be a more or less useful tool in determining the truth.  And that is what I believed I saw.  A quick glimpse into the past.  I was wrong.  Sometimes, the visions are a warning of the future.  I should’ve heeded this one.  I saw an old ship .. and here we are on a old ship.”

          “You weren’t to know,” Nick remarked.  “How could you possibly have interpreted that as a warning we were gonna end up here?”

          “I could have thought about it some more instead of just dismissing it,” Derek commented.

          “And what use is blaming yourself now?” Nick challenged.  “It won’t change anything, it won’t get us home, it doesn’t help.  Get over it.  We’ve got bigger problems to occupy us.”

          “What could be bigger than this?” Derek inquired.

          “Survival.  We’re two guys from the next century way outta place an’ time.  We can’t exactly go up to someone an’ ask for food an’ water.  We can’t interact with any of the crew.  I may be former Navy but I can’t fit in here.  You know even less about how this ship operates.  We can’t pretend we’re meant to be here, even as stowaways.  Our clothes are all wrong.  Plus .. we know the future.  We know that, in six days, a storm’s gonna hit an’, four days after that, she’s going down.  We can’t change the past, Derek, so we have to find a way to survive it.”  He twitched.  “An’ pray Alex can get her act together before the end comes.”

 

*****

 

          On the deck above Derek and Nick, and in a cabin at the other end of the barkentine, Captain John Marriott said “Come!” in response to the knock on his door.  He was pacing, his stern face more stern than usual.  His thick, bushy eyebrows came together in a ferocious frown as his First Officer came thru the doorway and saluted.

          “Sir.”

          “Report, Mr Delacroix!  What is the reason for that collision?”

          Paul Delacroix swallowed.  “We have investigated, sir, and .. there is nothing there.  I have questioned the lookouts and have been told the sea was empty of obstructions.  Mr Farnham, the navigator, and I have examined the charts and we are well clear of the rocks.  There is a goodly depth below the keel, sir, and – ”

          “So what in God’s name did we hit?”

          The younger man hesitated then shook his head.  “The only explanation, Captain, is .. a sea creature.”

          John Marriott’s eyes narrowed.  “We do not mean a sea monster, I trust.”

          “No, sir.  It’s a little early in the season but it is possible that it was a whale or some other large creature either just surfacing or diving.  As the lookouts saw nothing, I am inclined to say it is the former.”

          The Captain grunted, his lips pursing.  “Damage?”

          “The First Mate and I have examined the hull, sir, and there appears to be none whatsoever.”

          “You’re saying we were lucky.”

          “Yes, sir.”

          “What of our passengers?”

          Paul Delacroix hesitated.  “I did not inquire, sir.”

          Marriott nodded.  “Wise man.  Carry on, Mr Delacroix.”

          “Yes, sir.”

          The First Officer saluted again and left quickly, thinking he’d gotten off well.  It could’ve been a lot worse.

          Nate Tucker, the First Mate, was loitering by the steep steps to the upper deck.  “Well?”

          “No punishments.  So long as there’s no damage, he’s content.”

          “I’m glad about that.  The lads did their job.  They’re not at fault.  What did you tell him?”

          “That they saw nothing.  That is was probably a whale.”

          Nate nodded.  “I’ll pass it on.  Best to keep the lies together.”

          Paul sighed.  “What else could I have said, Nate?  That they did see something?  Something which wasn’t really there?  A ghost ship?  And a vessel like none of us have ever seen before?  By the time they did see it, we couldn’t have avoided it.  It literally appeared out of nowhere they said, right in front of the bow.  The Captain wouldn’t believe that.  He would’ve ordered them flogged.”

          “It’s an omen, sir,” Nate said darkly.  “You mark my words.  What with the accursed cargo we have on board .. it’s a warning that we are not doing God’s work.”

          “That’s as may be, Mr Mate, but we have our orders.  I will have an orderly ship.  Is that clear?”

          “Aye, sir.  But you heed this in turn – no good will come of any of it.  This is just the beginning.  And it’s going to get a lot worse.”

 

*****

 

          “What should we do?” Nick asked.  “Stay in here?  Take our chances outside?”

          “For now, I think we should stay here.”  Derek glanced around.  “We appear to be in some kind of storeroom which is fortunate.  There are supplies we can steal.  One thing is for sure, we must have food and water.  A half cup of coffee and a couple of sandwiches are not going to last me the next ten days.”  He looked over his shoulder, smiling quickly.  “And you are in real trouble.”

          Nick grinned too, appreciating the effort at humor.  “Okay, we stay put for now but we can’t stay in here forever.  We – or one of us – have got to recce the location.  Know what’s where, the places to hide up and where to avoid going at all costs.  Someone’s gonna come in here eventually if it’s a storeroom.  We should have a back up already planned.”

          “When would be the best time for that?” Derek inquired.

          “When it’s dark.”  Nick paced back and sat down.  “The battery in this flashlight isn’t gonna last forever.  We should try an’ find a lantern.”

          “A storeroom should have everything we need,” Derek remarked.  “I’ll look and then we can conserve energy.”  He studied his companion.  “Why don’t you try to get some rest, Nick?  Sleep for a while if you can.  You were up early this morning and you’ll be working late tonight.”

          Nick wanted to protest but he knew Derek was right.  “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed, handing over the flashlight then reaching for his gun as well.

          “No.  I’ll be fine,” Derek said.  “If I should get captured, you’ll be without a weapon when you come to rescue me.”

          “That isn’t a problem,” Nick replied steadily.

          “You’re the expert.  I am not inexperienced when it comes to firearms,” Derek shrugged, “but, in this kind of situation, I prefer to rely on my wits first.  You keep it.”

          “You’re sure?”

          “Positive.”

          Nick had to accept that too.  He shifted a few barrels away from the hull, just far enough to provide enough space for a man to lay flat, then did exactly that.  Within a few minutes, he was asleep.  Derek considered it a good idea and moved some more barrels and chests.  It wasn’t enough to instantly alert anyone and the containers gave solid cover.  They wouldn’t protect them against an organized search being made but they would be enough when someone came in simply for supplies.  Derek didn’t plan on sleeping while Nick was out for the count.  Someone had to keep watch and he was the only other guy there.  However, he might need a bolt hole in a hurry, and now he had one.

          Shelter taken care of, Derek turned his attention to finding a lantern, and some food and water.  The first crate he opened appeared to contain cargo.  Bolts of cloth.  The second, surprisingly, contained rifles.  So did the third and fourth.  He gave up and opened one of the sacks.  Biscuits.

          Ah well, he mused, at least it’s food.

          The second sack held flour which was not much use, but the third was full of strips of dried meat.  Trying one, he discovered it was beef.  Derek opened one of the chests.  China, packed in straw.

          We can be civilized, he thought.  Biscuits and dried beef, and we can eat it from china plates as well.

          Checking the barrels, Derek found one which had already been opened.  He lifted the lid.  Beer.  The fumes rose up and he blinked.   Beer would keep longer than water which would become brackish after a while.

          But, as yet, he’d found no lanterns or lamp oil.  And the flashlight was noticeably dimmer than it had been.  One thing was guaranteed, there would be no replacement batteries on board.  Derek resumed his search with more urgency.  It was difficult.  Searching quickly meant making noise.  Noise was the one thing he didn’t want to make.  He shifted crates as quietly as he could, wincing at every thump and bang.

          At last, he found a lantern.  In the same crate were candles.  Derek had a box of matches in his pocket so he hurriedly rammed a candle onto the spike in the lantern’s base, lit the wick and closed the panel, and then he switched off the flashlight.  Reasoning that two lanterns were better than one, he lit a second candle and put that in another lantern.  There was a metal hook in the ceiling, and a metal hook on the top of the lantern.  Derek hung one and set the other down on the floor.

          The deck wasn’t pitching all that much.  It was more rolling gently.  Derek sat down again, one ear pricked for sounds of approaching footsteps or voices, and thought about what he knew of old sailing ships.

          By the middle nineteenth century, ships were starting to be powered by steam engines.  This one didn’t appear to be that modern, even though she was built fairly recently.  She was a sailing ship, a working vessel.  Nick had said she hauled goods up and down the West Coast.  Derek regarded the contents of the storeroom again.

          This cannot be the cargo, he thought.  Rifles and a few bolts of cloth?  There is not enough of it.  The main cargo must be down in the hold.  This must be .. for the ship’s crew.

          And she isn’t moving very fast.  It is a beautiful day.  Hardly a breeze.  But, don’t forget, that day is a hundred years in the future.  Of course, maybe the conditions matched exactly which is another reason why we managed to .. cross into the past.  In which case, a sailing ship with no wind to drive her thru the water would have to rely on the current.  The sightings begin at Morro Bay and end at Lopez Point which is .. seventy miles north.  Seventy miles in eleven days is just over six miles a day.  So .. by the time Alex can act in our .. mysterious disappearance .. we’ll already be at least six miles north, maybe even twelve, and the distance will be growing all the time.  She has to figure it out so she can keep pace with us, shadow us a hundred years from now.

          The more he thought about it, the more stunned he was.  Nowhere in Legacy history had anyone ever done what he and Nick had managed to do by accident – become trapped in a haunting.  There had been members who had experienced hauntings – he and Alex had done exactly that in Hidden Valley – but they hadn’t been there.  They had simply watched scenes from the past.  There had been Legacy members who had been trapped in mysterious objects – Rachel, once, had become caught up in a painting.  But to physically shift thru time .. this was a first.  And, while Derek didn’t watch much television, he was aware of the sci fi rules of ‘temporal mechanics’.  It was tricky stuff.  One wrong move now could alter the future beyond any recognition.  Nick was right.  They had to avoid interacting with anyone in this time, and they had to survive the storm.  It was possible that the storm which sank – or would sink – the Santa Theresa had enough energy in it to put him and Nick back where they belonged.  Derek glanced at his watch and sighed.  It was only five o’clock.  They hadn’t even been reported as missing yet.  They wouldn’t, not for another century.

 

*****

 

          Nick woke after several more hours and found his Precept munching on dried beef and biscuits.  Derek had found a metal cup from somewhere and had filled it with beer.

          “All we need now is the pack of cards,” Nick remarked as he stretched.  “We could have a regular party.  Anyone come in?”

          “No.  There’s been no sounds at all, apart from the creaking,” Derek replied, his voice a little distant.  “It’s rather hypnotic after a while, especially if you watch the lantern swaying at the same time.”

          “It’ll be sundown fairly soon.  I’ll eat and .. make a move.”

          “Nick, be careful out there.  We cannot harm these people and, similarly, we cannot allow them to harm us.  I know, you’ve been trained to move silently and without being seen.  It has never been so crucial as it is right now.”

          Nick nodded.  “Aye, skipper.”

          Derek held out the cup.  “It isn’t bad.  Better than the water would’ve tasted.”

          “Probably the captain’s private stock.”  Nick sipped it.  “Pretty strong brew.  How much of this have you had?”

          “Just one cup.  The biscuits are very dry and the beef is very salty.”

          Nick sat down on a chest next to his Precept.  “Had any more ideas?”

          “Not really.  As usual, the members of the San Francisco Legacy house break new ground.  I think we may have to go to the wire on this one.”

          Nick’s head turned sharply toward the door.  “Someone’s com – ”

          The door opened.  Both men froze.  A man came in, halted quickly, and looked around.  His gaze traveled to the lantern on the ceiling and then to the lantern on the floor.  He frowned and slowly backed out again, without ever coming farther into the room, and he closed the door behind him.

          Nick frowned.  “Why didn’t he say something?”

          “Maybe he didn’t see us,” Derek murmured.  “The lantern isn’t bright and we are more in shadow than out of it.”

          “We’re not exactly hiding.  All he had to do was look.  You think maybe he did see us an’ he’s gone to raise the alarm?”

          “That’s more likely.  Fill your pockets with food,” Derek instructed briskly.  “That way, if we can’t get back immediately, we can last for a while someplace else.”

          “You’re coming with me?”

          “If he has gone to raise the alarm, I’d be better off with you than here on my own.”

          Nick crammed biscuits and strips of dried beef into the pockets of his jeans.  His jacket was in the Range Rover, his sweater was on the Shamrock.  It was going to be a cold night.

          “Let’s go,” he muttered, heading for the door.

 

*****

 

          By the angle and curve of the hull in the storeroom, Nick knew it was near the bow of the Santa Theresa.  He’d made a guess that they were on the lower deck, and he was proved right.  Below was the hold.  Above was the main deck, and then the upper deck.  He’d seen this already, on the seabed to the north.  Yet, what was so strange was that this deck was so empty.  There were benches and tables and no one sitting at them.  In fact, the lower deck was totally deserted. 

          The four masts, great thick columns, pierced the ceiling and the floor.  Capstans were dotted around like huge wooden mushrooms.  There were hatches leading down to the hold but they were all closed.  Not only closed, they had sandbags weighting them down.

          “Look,” Derek whispered as they crept past one of the masts.  Its base was ringed with more sandbags.  All tightly packed, overlapping.  “Is that normal?”

          Nick shrugged and shook his head.  “Only times I’ve ever seen ships like this, they were in a museum, and they didn’t have those.  It could be completely normal to have them there while the ship’s at sea.”  He gestured.  “If the hull should get holed, maybe .. they use these to plug the leak or slow it down.”  He looked around, peering into the darkness the fading flashlight couldn’t penetrate.  There were no portholes down here as this deck was at or below the waterline.  “Why is it empty?” he asked quietly.  “There should be a hundred men down here.”

          “This could work to our advantage,” Derek pointed out.  “Are there any rooms, cabins, on this level?”

          “Maybe down the stern.”  Nick set off.  “A whole deck unoccupied ...  It makes no sense.  Everyone’s up there,” he said, jerking a thumb at the ceiling, “all squashed together with the cannon, the officers an’ NCOs.  Why do that?”

          “I don’t know,” Derek replied.  “And, to a large degree, it is not our immediate concern.  We have plenty of time to discover the answers.  For now, we need to find a new hiding place.”

          “Right.”

 

*****

 

          The man bent and whispered into Nate Tucker’s whiskery ear.  Nate frowned.

          “Say that again,” he requested.

          The sailor repeated it.  Nate slowly nodded.

          “How much of the officers’ beer did you steal while you were down there, Jonas?”

          “None, Mr Mate!  I swear to God, I went into the storeroom and two lanterns were lit.  One was hanging from the ceiling hook, all nice an’ dandy, an’ the other was set to the floor.  I didn’t stay.  I came straight to find you.”

          “Swear to God, huh ..?  You’re not making this up to cover your lies?”

          “No, Mr Mate.  I’m not.  I wish I was.  I could use a tankard of ale right about now to settle my stomach.”

          Nate grunted and hauled himself to his feet.  “I guess that means I have to go down there myself and check to see if you’re telling me the honest truth.”

          “I tell you, I ain’t lying!”

          “We’ll see.  You can come with me.”

          The sailor swallowed, his face growing pale.  “I don’t like going down there.”

          “None of us do but Ol’ Iron Britches wants his beer.  Someone has to fetch it for him.”  He took a firm hold of the man’s collar.  “Let’s go.”

 

*****

 

          Nick eased open a door and Derek shone the flashlight quickly around the interior. 

          “What’s this?”

          “Looks like a cabin for an NCO.  No portholes.  Small.  Narrow rack.  Maybe the Third Mate,” Nick replied with a shrug.

          “But unoccupied.  A solid door.  We’ll use this.  What’s in here?”  Derek pushed open the door to the next room.  “Oh, it looks like .. the medical bay.  Nick, go back, get one of the lanterns.  If you have time, bring more candles.  If not, we’ll make raiding parties as and when we need to.”

          “Yes, boss.”

          Nick was gone at a fast walk, back the way they’d come.  Derek entered the cabin and stared around at the miserable austerity.  There was absolutely nothing in the way of home comforts, or any comfort.  The rack, or bunk, was over a desk, and the mattress was thin and lumpy, filled with straw.  The bedding was one folded blanket.  There was no pillow.  The desk was clear – no ink was in the inkwell, and there were no charts, no books, no journal or ship’s log.  It was small.  With Nick and Derek both standing in here, there was no room to turn around.  Still, despite being a depressingly dismal living area, it was patently unoccupied.  No one was likely to stumble in at the end of a long day and be surprised that someone was sleeping in his bed.

          There was a crude, four legged stool and Derek sat down, discovered that one leg was decidedly shorter than the other three and the stool had a ferocious wobble, and switched off the flashlight to conserve the battery.

          If we had known there was even a chance of this happening, we would have been a lot more prepared, he reflected.  Extra batteries, for one thing.  A bigger flashlight.  A change of clothes.  Supposing Alex can get us back at the proper time, whenever that is, we are both going to smell pretty rank.  If she can’t, it won’t matter.  There again, if I had paid more attention to the vision, we would have known.  This is my fault, despite what Nick says.  It cannot be his, Nick doesn’t have visions.

          So .. why is this deck so empty?  It doesn’t make sense.  Up there, there is light and warmth, the ship’s company all cramped together.  Down here .. darkness, cold, and a lot of empty space.

          Derek heard the rumble of voices from above, the muted tramp of feet.  He heard the ship’s timbers creaking and, very faintly, the fluttering snap of a sail.  Then he sat very still.  There was a soft moaning sound, and that had come from beneath his feet.

          Nick grabbed the lantern from the floor and decided, after one look at it, that the candle would last long enough and that he could come back later for more candles.  Even if the door was locked in the interim, he could pop it.  He shut the door behind him, and, closing the shutter on the lantern to leave a narrow gap, he set off back along the deck.

          Suddenly, a hatch just ahead was opened, light spilled down in a big square, and feet began to clatter down the steps.  Cursing under his breath, Nick looked round, started to cross to the other side of the deck then flattened against the mast, closing the shutter on the lantern completely.

          Two men went past him, heading toward the storeroom.  Nick waited for a moment, then eased away, creeping silently down the deck toward the stern, opening the shutter so the candle gave just a glimmer of light.

          Nate Tucker scratched his head then his chin.

          “What did I tell you?” the sailor demanded, sounding vindicated.

          “You said two lanterns.  I can only see one.”

          “There were two!  An’ one’s still here.”

          “So where’s the other one?”

          “Maybe they took it with them.”

          “Ah, okay, now we’re getting somewhere.  Who’s they?”

          “Stowaways.”

          Nate angled his head.  “We ain’t stopped nowhere for stowaways to get on board.”

          “Then ... ”  Jonas swallowed.  “Maybe it’s ... ”  He pointed at the floor.

          “Maybe it is,” Nate conceded.  “Let’s go check.”

          The sailor shook his head.  “No, sir!  I ain’t going down there!”

          “I ain’t going down there either!  We’ll check the hatches.  See if anything’s been disturbed.”  Nate pushed the other man ahead of him.  “If they have, I’ll have to report it, an’ then all hell’s gonna break loose.”

          The sailor had stopped just outside the storeroom entrance.  He pointed down the deck, his hand shaking.  Nate Tucker, frowning, looked toward the stern.  A thin glimmer of light was gliding away from them.

          “The hatches,” he urged.

          “Mr Mate – ”  Jonas sounded wretched.

          “Quicker we check, quicker we can get the hell out.  Right?”

          At the sound of voices, Nick closed the shutter and completed the rest of the journey by touch and memory.  He eased into the cabin and quickly shut the door.

          “Don’t say anything,” he warned Derek in a whisper.  “We got company.”

          They waited in a tense silence for several stretched minutes, then they heard the very distinctive sound of a hatch closing with a thump.  Nick opened the shutter on the lantern again.

          “Like we thought.  He raised the alarm.  I think they think we’re stowaways.”

          Derek nodded slowly.  “And I think there’s more going on here than we know.  There’s something down there, in the hold.”

          “Well, yeah, there would be,” Nick agreed.  “The cargo – ”

          “It’s alive,” Derek cut in.

 

*****

 

          Nate Tucker had a miserably small cabin and he shared it with one of the cannon.  His watch was during the day.  The Third Mate had the night watch and, on this tour, slept in Nate’s cabin when the First Mate was on duty instead of in his own, smaller cabin on the deck below.  Nate knew he should be asleep right now because it was late, nearing midnight.  On the deck outside his door, the crew slept soundly, or maybe not so soundly, in the hammocks slung from hooks in the ceiling.  There were snores and muttering; he could hear them faintly.  Nate wished he could sleep.  But he couldn’t.  He had too much to think about and it played on his mind as midnight came and went, and the small hours grew larger.  The ship’s bell was sounded on time, marking the hour.  The Santa Theresa crept north on the current, all her sail flat and hanging limp.  Still Nate couldn’t sleep.  Dawn light began to peep around the cover of the porthole.  He got heavily to his feet and opened the door.

          Paul Delacroix’s cabin was on the starboard side and next to the Captain’s cabin.  Nate knocked as softly as he could.  He didn’t want to disturb Ol’ Iron Britches.  Strictly, Nate should have gone to the Third Officer, who would’ve reported it to the Second Officer who would’ve taken it to Paul who, if it warranted it, would’ve brought it to the attention of Captain Marriott.  Nate thought it was too important and too potentially explosive to go up the chain of command so he went direct.

          Paul opened the door, blinking sleepily.  “What is it, Mr Mate?”

          Nate gestured with his head.  “I need to speak with you, sir,” he said in scarcely a whisper.

          Now?” Paul exclaimed softly.

          “Aye, sir.  It can’t wait.”

          Paul nodded.  “I’ll meet you by the main hatch.  Five minutes.”

          Five minutes later, Paul hurried up, rapidly buttoning his uniform coat.  Nate glanced all around.  The main deck was making sounds like it was waking up.

          “What’s so damned important that you came straight to me?” Paul demanded.

          “Last night, Jonas and I had reason to go below.  Jonas had been ordered down to the for’ard port storeroom and he found two lanterns lit in there.  When I went back with him, one was there, the other was gone.  He thought maybe it was stowaways, but it can’t be.  We both know that.”

          “My God ...”  Paul went pale.  “Did you check the hatches?  If one of them’s gotten out – ”

          “We did.  Nothing’s been disturbed.  It can’t be them.  But that isn’t all, sir.”

          Paul Delacroix shook his head.  “What else can there be, Mr Mate?”

          “You think I find this easy?” Nate hissed, his eyes blazing with insubordination.  “I don’t.  I’ve been awake all night, sir, thinking about this, trying to figure it out, an’ I can’t.  The only thing which is making sense right about now ... ”  He paused.  “You remember what happened yesterday?  The collision which wasn’t?”

          “Of course.”

          “You remember what the lookouts said they saw?”

          “Yes.  How is this relevant?” Paul asked quietly.

          “Last night.  Jonas saw it first, then I saw it too.  A lantern.”

          “You said one was missing from the store.  There are no stowaways.  The hatches haven’t been disturbed.  Have you considered that it could have been one of the crew down there for .. some purpose?”

          “Sir, you know that, unless specifically ordered to go down there,” Nate challenged, “the lower deck is out of bounds to everyone, and for a damn good reason.”

          “Even so, Mr Mate – ”

          “No, sir.  They know it’s dangerous to go down to the lower deck.  They’re scared of what’s in the hold, and I don’t blame them for that.  None of the crew were down there.  How do I know?  I did a head count while Jonas guarded the hatch.  No one came up and everyone who should’ve been upstairs was.”  He leaned in closer.  “I told you, it was an omen.”

          “Superstition.”

          “No, sir.  I got proof.  I saw it with my own eyes.”

          Paul stared at him.  “Then .. maybe you imagined it.”

          “Both of us?”

          “You were tired, end of a long day and one not without incident.  What exactly did you see?”

          Nate shrugged.  “I wasn’t tired, sir, not then.  I’m tired now, but I wasn’t last night.  What did I see?  A lantern.  Moving down the deck, toward the stern.”  He paused, swallowing.  The words didn’t want to come out.  “I warned you, sir.  The collision was only the start.  No one was carrying that lantern.  It was just floating along on its own.  This ship is haunted!  We’ve got ghosts on board!”

 

 

 

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