“C’mon,
show a leg,” Nick grinned, shaking Derek’s shoulder.
Derek
groaned as he opened his eyes. “This ..
has got to be, without a doubt, the most
uncomfortable bed in the entire world.”
“Didn’t
stop you sleeping in it all night,” Nick remarked.
“And
I think I’ll be paying for it the rest of my life.” Derek clambered down to the deck and groaned again as his spine
argued at the mistreatment. “We were
undisturbed?”
“No one came down. I made several tours of the deck, got more
candles, collected more food. Found a
pitcher and brought back some beer but I’d go easy on that stuff. It’s strong. I think we should try to ration ourselves.”
“A
wise precaution,” Derek agreed.
“I
took a look at the hatches to the hold.
I’m not sure but .. I thought I heard movement down there. Whatever it is, unless it’s phenomenally
powerful, there’s no way it can get out,” Nick went on. “The hatch covers aren’t heavy for an
average guy but, with those sandbags on top, the weight would be too much.”
Derek
nodded. “Well, it may not be physically
strong enough to make its escape but it is
obviously dangerous. Why else would
this deck be left unoccupied? It’s a
buffer zone between whatever’s in the hold and the crew.”
“And
we’re in it.”
“We have no choice. But .. provided we avoid disturbing whatever
is down there, we should be safe enough for the remainder of the voyage. No one is likely to disturb us.”
“This is the deck we found the
skeleton,” Nick commented. “When she
goes under, we don’t wanna be here. We
have to find a way to get topside. Take
our chances in the storm.”
Derek
frowned. “And how do we do that?”
“Believe
me, they’ll be panicking. They won’t
stop to ask questions. They may even
welcome some assistance.”
“Assistance
which, inevitably, will make no difference to the outcome,” Derek sighed. “The ship will still sink. You’re right. We don’t want to be down here when it happens.”
“What
about whatever’s in the hold?” Nick asked somberly.
Derek’s
head reared. “That all depends on what
it is and whether it deserves to live, doesn’t it? Drowning may be a merciful end.
Was there anything in the research about unexplained events either side
of the Santa Theresa’s last voyage?”
“Wish
we’d brought the laptop with us,” Nick muttered.
“It
would be no use to us, Nick,” Derek pointed out. “The Internet won’t be created for another eighty or ninety years
and, while the Legacy presently exists, its records are not on a computer. We are anachronisms, my friend. We must work with the tools available – our
own minds.”
“Okay
.. well, from memory, I didn’t find anything specific about odd occurrences
along the Santa Theresa’s route, or after she’d gone down. There again, I wasn’t really investigating
peripheral activity. This is a ghost
ship. Maybe .. whatever’s in the hold
gets out an’ that’s what causes her to sink and become a phantom. Some of that .. revealing information you
mentioned. Once we know what it is an’
what it does, the ship will stop haunting.”
Nick
paused. “Derek, if there’s a Legacy
house in San Francisco .. can’t we call them for help?” he asked. “If anyone can understand what’s going on
here an’ not just dismiss it as crap from two crazy guys, it has to be them.”
“They
would certainly listen to us,” Derek agreed.
“And
.. if we do survive the storm but can’t get back home .. could we go to the
island?”
“We
could .. but we won’t.”
“Why?”
Nick frowned.
“For
the same reason we cannot interact with this crew. We cannot alter history, Nick.
Yes, we could go to Angel Island.
One wrong move, one idle sentence spoken without thought, the entire
history of the San Francisco house, and possibly the Legacy worldwide, could be
totally different. Who knows how far the
ripples could spread? If we survive the
storm but cannot get back to our own time, we must face the fact that we will
live out our lives as two eccentric recluses in some remote area, doing nothing
except existing. We can make no
decisions, have no choices. It might
even be more prudent to kill ourselves.”
“Or
die in the storm,” Nick muttered.
“That
depends as well. Maybe the reason we
were snatched from the Shamrock is so we can witness these final days, learn
the terrible secret of the Santa Theresa, and, once we’ve done that, we’ll be
returned to our own time. Alex need do
nothing to facilitate it.”
“That
sounds optimistic,” the younger man remarked.
“And
overly fanciful,” Derek smiled. “You
know life is never that easy.”
Nick
was silent for a moment, his expression absorbed. “Derek .. I have a life and I wanna get back to it. I’ll keep a low profile for as long as I can
but .. when that storm hits, don’t ask me to sit back an’ do nothing to help us
get home. Call me a selfish bastard if
you want but I really don’t care.”
Derek
put a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I
understand. I want to go home too.”
*****
Paul
Delacroix had eaten his breakfast even though he had no appetite and he had
then listened to the Second Officer’s report which, as it should, had come up
the chain of command. The night watch
had concluded without incident. Thank
God for small mercies, he considered.
The wind was still lamentably absent and the Santa Theresa was crawling
toward Monterey, her final destination.
There, most of the crew would be paid off, himself included. He was looking forward to going home to
Portland, seeing his wife, his son and his newly born daughter. Paul knew he wouldn’t stay ashore for
long. There was something about the sea
– it got into the blood, it called with a siren’s song. He thought maybe six months, probably less,
and he’d find a place on another ship.
He’d never set foot on the Santa Theresa again, that much he’d promised
himself. She was cursed. Nate Tucker’s prophetic utterances of doom
had struck a chord in Paul’s own heart and soul. This wasn’t God’s work.
It was a monumental sin and one for which he hoped he wouldn’t be judged
too harshly when he hear the Final Trump.
Paul, after all, hadn’t made the decision. He’d only obeyed his orders.
He
put down his Bible and prayed for ten minutes, on his knees beside his
desk. He prayed for forgiveness and for
advice. God, as ever, was silent.
Ghosts
on board. The practical part of him
instantly dismissed it. the other part,
the part which connected with his soul, the part which had listened to Nate
Tucker and had instinctively believed, was intrigued, appalled, and at a
loss. The spirits were restless. They had come in answer to a call and they
were here to judge. The crew would
panic. They were already on edge, this
would tip them over. There would be
mutiny if the word got out.
How
to keep it quiet? Well, Paul reflected,
I could say nothing. I can trust Nate
to keep his mouth shut. The two
lookouts .. I think they can be relied upon.
They’re old hands. Jonas ..
that’s another matter. He’s barely
grown to a man. Nate must speak with
him.
Should
I tell the Captain? It’s certainly a
matter which affects his ship. He
should be told. But what words do I
use? How can I tell him? He isn’t superstitious. He doesn’t believe. The wrong words could make a bad situation
worse. The right words .. wouldn’t do
much more. If I just keep it plain,
he’ll ask me questions I could answer but he won’t like what he hears. I could tell him a situation has arisen and
that I’m dealing with it. That’s the
truth –
“Mr
Delacroix!”
Paul
jumped. He rose from his knees and
straightened his coat, put on his uniform cap, then reported to Captain
Marriott’s stateroom.
“Good
morning, sir.”
“Mr
Delacroix,” the Captain nodded. There
was blood on his chin from where he’d cut himself shaving. “Your report, if you please.”
Paul
gave it, just as Mr Farnham had given it to him.
“Very
well,” the older man said heavily. “God
has seen fit to prolong this voyage and none of us can take the Almighty to
task. It cannot be helped.”
“No,
sir,” Paul agreed. He swallowed, his
shoulders pulling back very slightly as he came to attention even more. “Captain Marriott, a .. situation occurred
last night and I am dealing with it. It
could lead to unrest among the crew, sir, which is why I have raised it.”
John
Marriott’s eyebrows bristled. “What
situation?”
“It
was on the lower deck, sir.”
“Dear
God!” Marriott paced away, his face animated, then back. “We can take no chances, Mr Delacroix. From now on, all the officers will go
armed. I will have sentries posted,
armed with rifles, at the hatches leading down to the lower deck with orders to
stop anyone going down there, unless they have signed orders from me, in which
case they must have an armed escort, and to shoot on sight anything attempting
to come up.”
“Very
well, Captain.” Paul was pleasantly
surprised. It was exactly what he had
been about to suggest, except that the orders would have been signed by him.
“Keep
a tight rein on this, Mr Delacroix. I
will not have mutiny on board my ship, is that clear?”
“Yes,
sir.”
Marriott
thought some more. Paul waited
patiently. He couldn’t leave, he hadn’t
been dismissed.
“I
want you and Mr Mate to inspect thoroughly the lower deck. Someone has to go down there to get the
rifles from the storeroom, the tasks can be doubled up. Take your pistol, Mr Delacroix. Protect yourself.”
“Yes,
Captain,” Paul replied. He wasn’t happy
with the order but he had to obey.
“Dismissed. And report to me again at noon. I want to be kept informed of any and all
developments. We are so close to home
now, Mr Delacroix. I intend, with God’s
good grace, to get us there in one piece and we can pass this terrible
responsibility onto others who are better able to cope with it.”
“I
understand, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Paul
went to find Nate who was on the upper deck and smoking a hand rolled cigarette
as he kept one eye on the crew and the other wistfully on the land.
“The
Captain knows.”
“Oh,
Lord, help us now,” Nate muttered.
“He
doesn’t know everything,” Paul went on in a soft voice. “I have my orders, Nate. You and I have to conduct a thorough
inspection of the lower deck and we are to fetch up the rifles. He wants armed sentries at all the hatches
leading down from the main deck. Orders
to go below must be signed by Captain Marriott personally. No one can go down there otherwise and, even
when they do, they must have an armed escort.
And anything coming up .. shot on sight.”
Nate
was surprised as well. “He ordered all
that?”
“He
did. He wants to get us to Monterey in
one piece. Two weeks, Nate. With this cursed lack of wind, that’s all we
have left to go .. and then it’s onto new ships. We can put this behind us and start scouring the stains from the
soul. I just want to get home and see
my sweet Eliza.” Paul
straightened. “We had best do what
we’ve been told. Fetch some
lanterns. I’ll go get my pistol.”
*****
“It’s
difficult.”
Nick
glanced round. The straw rustled. “What is?”
“To
remember whether it’s day or night,” Derek answered. “You take such things for granted – to be able to walk in the
sunshine, or in the rain or fog,” he added, remembering Angel Island with a
fierce longing. “To feel the wind ...
To just look and know that it’s the day.”
“By
now, Alex must’ve been notified that we didn’t return the Shamrock last
night. She’ll be putting together her
team, driving down to Morro Bay. She’ll
be there by tonight.”
“She
won’t love sitting in the hot seat now,” Derek commented. “A rescue mission. Under ordinary circumstances, they can be tough enough. This
one is worse.”
He
watched the candle in the lantern.
“Consider – in a normal rescue, you can often rely on the people you are
rescuing to help you by working on the inside to break free. Even if they can’t do that, they will help
you once you have freed them. You have
allies. Alex is alone in this. Yes, she has Rachel for advice and Peri, I
assume, for back up, but Alex must make the decisions and they have to be right first time. We are on a very definite time line
here. October 4 .. is cutting it
fine. October 5 will be too late. Alex has no time to await developments. Plus, if this were an ordinary rescue, the
chances are you would be with her, Nick.
You have experience in the field.
This time, you are the one being rescued and Alex has Peri to take your
place in the field. Peri can do a lot
but she can’t do as much as you. She’s
bound by her rules.”
Nick
wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear this.
Not so much that his wife had limitations, he knew that. It was the overall tone of the message. Alex could fail. If she did, he and Derek were as good as dead and Nick wasn’t
sure if that was a bad thing. If he
couldn’t get home, the thought of living out the remainder of his life here ...
“Rachel
will play her part,” Derek went on.
“She’ll mediate between Alex and Peri, get the best from the both of
them. Alex .. is essentially thought
before deciding upon a course of action.
Once she has decided, she can be determined to see it thru but she has
to consider carefully first. She’ll feel
pressure this time. Peri is the
opposite. She is essentially
action. She thinks fast, chooses
quickly. If Alex deliberates too long,
it will spark a big argument – after all, you are missing. Peri’s main concern will be getting you
back; the fact that I am with you is a bonus for me. And this is where Rachel is important. She’ll use Peri’s fire and drive to keep Alex on the task. She’ll use Alex’s consideration to keep a
check on Peri’s instinctive impulses.
That way, the decision will be made properly but faster than Alex would
truly like and Peri can then act on them knowing it’s what Alex genuinely
wants.”
“I’m
kinda glad I’m not there,” Nick remarked.
“Three women, trying to agree on a plan? Sounds like a recipe for disaster.”
“Of
course, the scenario I’ve just painted will only work if Alex doesn’t overreact
upon receiving the news that we’re missing.”
“What
d’you mean? Overreact?”
Derek
shrugged slightly. “She could panic for
a moment, pick up the phone, and call Aquila.
If she does that .. Rachel will have her work cut out for her. Aquila is .. difficult to control, almost
impossible to reason with. Alex will
give the orders and Aquila will obey them, but she will also be breathing down
Alex’s neck the entire time. Alex would
be much better served if she doesn’t activate Aquila. Peri is a more amenable person.”
Nick
grinned slightly. “I should know how
true that is. I’m married to both of
’em.”
“I’ve
always admired your stamina,” Derek commented, his dark eyes twinkling.
“We’ll
start at the stern.”
Both
men tensed as the voice floated in from outside. It had sounded very near.
Derek closed the shutter on the lantern and tried to slow his
breathing. Nick, who was stretched out
on the narrow bed, lay very still.
Straw mattresses did one thing extremely well. They rustled whenever someone moved.
They
heard the door open to the medical bay.
“Looks
like you’ll get your chance to see the sun after all,” Nick whispered.
“It’s
empty, sir.”
That
door closed and then their door opened.
Derek let his shoulders drop in defeat.
Before, in the storeroom, there had been space. Here, there was no chance of hiding. By now, both he and Nick certainly looked
the part of stowaways. They had a day’s
growth of beard and they were disheveled and dirty. He narrowed his eyes in the glow from the lantern one man – an
officer by his uniform – held in one hand.
There was a pistol clutched in the other.
“You
say you saw it head this way?”
“I
did, sir,” the other man replied.
“Look, there is it. On the
desk.”
They
play games with us, Derek thought. Our
punishment will be severe.
“So
it is, Mr Mate.” The officer stepped
forward and opened the shutter. “And in
use. Now why would our ghosts choose
this room, do you think?”
“Ghosts?”
Nick queried.
“Maybe
they were tired, sir, and wanted to have a lie down.”
Nick
sat up. The straw rustled. Both men stepped back toward the door, faces
paling suddenly.
“Did
you hear that?” the one known as Mr Mate choked. “They’re in here!”
Derek,
frowning, stepped forward to stand right in front of them. “Can you hear me? See me at all?” he asked.
“Mr
Mate .. I believe you are correct. We
have phantoms on board,” the officer declared.
“Not a word to the crew. You
tell Jonas to keep his mouth shut or there will be pandemonium on this ship.”
Derek
looked round at Nick, his face clearing.
“They can’t see us. Do you know
what this means?”
“I
got some ideas,” Nick replied. “One, we
can go exploring up there instead of hiding down here. Two .. I could have some fun. I’ve never been a ghost before.”
“Come
along, Mr Mate. We have other rooms to
check plus the hatches.”
“And
the rifles, sir.” The two men backed
out and closed the door. “Should we
lock it?”
“A
phantom can pass thru walls, doors, it doesn’t matter. Locking it will not solve anything.” The officer cleared his throat, trying to
get rid of the thready note of fear.
“Providing they keep to themselves and do not interfere with our voyage,
I have no trouble with them being here,” he said clearly.
“That’s
our ticket outta here,” Nick said.
“It
means,” Derek said, “that our transition to this time isn’t complete. The ship feels solid to us, we can consume
the supplies, interact with the structure .. but not the people. We’ve been hiding for no reason.”
Nick
got down from the bed. “Wanna explore?”
“For
now, I just want to feel the sun on my face,” Derek responded.
“Let’s
go.”
*****
The
hatch to the main deck was open and they climbed the steps to emerge into the
light and the incredible bustle of the crew.
Derek halted, his eyes wide.
“History
at work,” he breathed. “What a
fantastic sight.”
“Yeah,
fabulous,” Nick agreed flatly,
sidestepping a hurrying sailor .. just in case. In some respects, this was no different from being on a modern
naval vessel, and he’d seen that. “We
got plenty of time to soak up the atmosphere, Derek.”
“You’re
right. It’s just that .. I never
thought I’d ever get to see something like this. To be .. almost a part of it.”
“Let’s
not forget that we don’t want to be a part of it. In nine days, we want to be as far away from here as we can. Watching it from a hundred years in the
future would be a good place.”
Nick
found another set of steps and was up them before Derek could say anything
more. Derek followed, taking his example
from Nick. He waited for a sailor to
come down before he started up. They
were invisible, yes, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be felt.
The
heat bathed him. The day was blinding
after so much empty darkness lit by the glow of a solitary candle. Overhead, the sails were all up but moving
only sluggishly. The land inched
past. Nick could’ve walked faster than
the Santa Theresa. An elderly woman
could’ve walked faster than this.
“If
they went farther out, they’d go quicker,” he remarked. “The current’s fast about a mile out to
sea. I’d say we’re only a half mile
from land.”
Derek
leaned on the rail beside him. “It
looks hardly changed,” he commented.
“More trees but that’s about it.”
Nick
nodded slowly. “Do you think we’re the
reason why they’re breaking out the rifles?”
“We
could very well be,” Derek agreed, breathing deeply of the salty air. “And it is equally very probable that we
could be hurt by them. Rifles are like
the lanterns, and the food. We can
interact with them, so we must assume they can interact with us.”
“If
they can’t see the target,” Nick commented with a twitch of his shoulders.
“Nevertheless,
if the bullets start to fly for whatever reason, we must take cover.”
“Okay,”
Nick accepted.
Derek
thought some more. “They could be
arming themselves because of whatever’s in the hold.”
“True. If it’s that dangerous ... ” Nick hunched his shoulders. “We could go down there. Find out what’s going on.”
“We
could.”
“Are
we?” Nick asked, glancing at him.
“If
we can find out no other way, yes. We
shall exhaust all the other ways first.”
“It’d
be quicker to just go down there,” the younger man pointed out.
“I
agree but sometimes quicker is not always wiser. What if it’s .. some kind of animal? It could attack. Animals
are well known to be able to see spectral apparitions .. which is what we are.”
“This
is the Legacy from the other side,” Nick said with a grin. “We investigate the ghosts. Now we’re the ghosts doing the
investigating.”
“It
is a unique opportunity,” Derek nodded slowly.
“And one, of course, that Peri can do whenever she wants.”
“She
doesn’t get trapped a hundred years in the past when she does it.” Nick turned to lean his elbows on the
rail. “So .. where do we find out what
the big secret is?”
“The
obvious place, to me at least, is in the ship’s log.”
Nick
groaned. “That’ll be in the captain’s
cabin. One thing about these old
sailing ships, Derek, is that the crew do all the work overseen by the mates
who get their orders from the exec. The
captain does damn all. Barely leaves
his cabin. Reading his log is gonna be
tough.”
“Hmm. Then .. how about the First Officer? Would he keep some kind of record?”
“He
might.” Nick considered. “It might be more a journal than an official
log.”
“Then
we’ll look at that. If that doesn’t
tell us, we’ll have to risk the captain’s displeasure.”
Nick
nodded.
“When
would be the best time?” Derek inquired.
“While
he’s on duty. Now, I guess.”
Derek
sighed. “It’s such a lovely day ... ”
“I’ll
go,” Nick offered. “You stay here,
enjoy the sun.”
“No. I can always return later.” Derek straightened. “Now I’m a ghost, I can do practically
anything.”
*****
“You
keep watch at the door,” Derek instructed as he headed toward the desk.
They’d
found out that they couldn’t do everything.
They couldn’t walk thru solid walls.
The Santa Theresa was real to them.
It meant that, if they wanted to go down to the hold, they would have to
move sandbags and open the hatch. That
could release the danger into the rest of the ship. It became a final option.
Nick
leaned against the bed and gazed thru the window at the main deck. “They’ve got sentries at all the
hatches. I don’t think we’re gonna be
able to get below, not without badly scaring someone.”
“That’s
the last thing we want to do,” Derek murmured, finding a leather bound
notebook. “In a few days, there will be
panic enough. We should try not to
encourage it to start any earlier.”
“You
spoil all my fun,” Nick grinned.
“Ah,
here it is.” Derek turned to the start
of the entries. “They came up from
Mexico. Called in at San Diego to
unload their cargo. Enjoyed liberty for
several days. In fact, the captain
extended it. The Captain went ashore to
meet with some people ... It doesn’t
say who. When he returned, he said they
would be taking some passengers on to Monterey.”
“I
haven’t seen any passengers,” Nick commented softly.
Derek
shook his head. “Neither have I. Here’s another entry. The passengers came aboard after sundown and
went straight to their quarters.”
Nick
glanced back over his shoulder.
“They’re in the hold.”
“Have
you seen any food being taken to them?” Derek inquired.
“No.”
Derek
read on. “The Captain has ordered that
the lower deck be emptied and no contact must be made by the crew. The passengers are dangerous and must be
left alone at all costs.”
Nick’s
face closed in. “You think they’re
vampires? Coming on board after
sundown, not eating, no contact, dangerous.
Sounds like vampires to me.”
“It’s
possible,” Derek agreed, flipping on thru the entries. “This is a straight run to Monterey. No stops.
This is interesting. He
describes the Santa Theresa as cursed.
He plans to leave when they arrive at the port. He says .. most of the crew plan to do the
same. They’re scared of .. the
passengers. What’s this ..? Yesterday’s entry. The lookouts reported seeing a ghost ship, unlike any vessel they
had ever seen before. It appeared right
in front of the bow and they couldn’t avoid the collision. Thank God no damage was done.”
“The
Shamrock,” Nick breathed.
“He
admits he lied to the captain. Told him
it was a whale.”
“Smart
guy. Sounds like the captain is a
skeptic.” Nick straightened. “We got company.”
Derek
hastily closed the journal and returned it to its place. the door opened and the man with the pistol
came in. He looked drawn,
defeated. He halted, removed his cap
and tossed it onto the bed. Then he
sighed, looked up, and his eyes widened.
*****
Paul
Delacroix had imagined the crew would have felt reassured by the Captain’s
orders, but he was mistaken. The
tension was increasing. They didn’t see
the sentries as being there for their protection, they saw them as a threat and
an infringement on their already reduced liberty. After all, at whom were the rifles pointing? At the crew.
Something
more than that was gnawing at him. In
any other situation, Paul would not have put a rifle into Jonas’s hands. Nate had suggested making Jonas a sentry as a
way of getting him to keep quiet. He’d
said he’d give Jonas a good, strong talking to. Paul had, with a great amount of reluctance, agreed. He still felt it was a mistake. Jonas was feeling jumpy. A rifle in the hands of a man like that was
simply inviting trouble.
Please,
God, he silently prayed, just bring the wind back. I want this to be over. I
want to be off this cursed ship and on my way home to my family. Is that such an evil thing to want?
“Mr
Delacroix?”
“Yes,
Mr Farnham.”
The
Second Officer and ship’s navigator stood at attention. “Sir, I’m concerned.”
“We
all are concerned, Mr Farnham,” Paul responded in his best, most neutral
voice. “There is, presently, very
little we can do about the situation on board and, what we can do, we are
doing.”
The
man blinked. “It was not that to which
I was referring, Mr Delacroix.”
Paul
frowned. The last thing he wanted was
another problem. “Then speak freely, Mr
Farnham.”
“It
is this lack of wind, sir.”
Is
that all, Paul wondered. “Nature is
beyond our control. It is God’s
province. The Lord knows, I have prayed
for the return of the wind. It cannot
be helped.”
“I
know that, sir.” Ulysses Farnham was in
his mid-twenties, an earnest, scholarly man who looked much older. “It is exactly what I mean, Mr
Delacroix. Nature is beyond our
control. And, if the wind is not here,
it is somewhere else.”
Paul’s
frown increased. “Explain your thoughts
to me.”
“Yes,
sir.” He took a deep breath. “We are presently experiencing not simply a
lack of wind. There isn’t even a
breeze. We are becalmed. Sir, it is my belief that .. a storm is
brewing.”
God,
isn’t that the truth of things, Paul silently reflected.
“Out
there, in the Pacific,” Mr Farnham went on.
“And .. I predict it will be big and it is heading this way.”
“How
do you know it will be big?”
“Because
this absence of wind has been going on for several days now, sir. One day, maybe two, that I could I
accept. This long ... ” He shook his head. “If you could imagine .. the storm demands and nature must
give. She is giving the wind and she
has been giving for many days now.
Eventually, she will demand and the storm must deliver.”
“I
see.”
“I
have studied the charts, sir,” he continued, “and there is no shelter to be
found between here and Monterey.”
“How
soon is this storm likely to be upon us?” Paul asked, his voice controlled.
“I
cannot know with accuracy. Certainly,
within days.”
“Before
we reach harbor?”
Ulysses
Farnham hesitated then nodded.
“Thank
you, Mr Farnham.”
“If
we went a little farther out to sea, we could make better use of the current,
sir,” he said, his voice a little urged.
“The
Captain has ordered this course,” Paul replied. “He knows the nature of the passengers. Should they break free of their confinement, the Captain wishes
the crew to have the chance of being able to swim to shore.”
“I
understand. Then, sir, we will be
caught in the storm.”
Paul
nodded. “You and Mr Penn will begin
checking the boats. Do it with care, Mr
Farnham. The crew should not be unduly
alerted. You know we all have enough to
concern us as it is.”
“Aye,
sir.”
Paul
closed his eyes and sighed, then went on to his cabin. The problem of the restless spirits on board
was minor in comparison to everything else.
They had obviously come from the boat the Santa Theresa had sliced in
two, and they seemed to want nothing except a few home comforts – a lantern, a
bed. To a degree, Paul could let it
pass although he did wonder at their acumen.
To come here, to a cursed ship?
But then he couldn’t exactly stop them, could he? They were ghosts. But, with Mr Farnham’s quiet, obviously considered words, a new
doubt had arisen in his mind.
Harbingers of doom. First, the
passengers, as the Captain preferred to call them. Everyone else simply said ‘the cargo’. They were bad enough.
Then the collision with the ghost ship, and then the arrival of the
ghosts themselves. And now .. the
storm. What else would these ghosts
herald?
The
strain of keeping this from the Captain was starting to tell. Paul Delacroix was an honest man and he
lived a decent, God-fearing life. Most
officers were. They knew the sea could
be both killer and kind. A healthy
faith went a long way. Lying to the
Captain, not telling him the whole truth, this was very close to mutiny in
Paul’s eyes. Not a court martial
offense because this wasn’t a military vessel.
The Santa Theresa was a merchantman.
But it was enough to risk death.
At sea, the Captain’s word was law, and Paul was breaking it. The Captain was judge, there was no jury,
and he could order an execution.
I
want this to be over, he thought again as he went into his cabin. He halted, removed his cap and tossed it
onto the bed. He sighed again, thinking
of his wife and children, and, drawing in a long breath, he looked up.
There
was a ghost in his cabin.