Freedom: A Futuristic Fantasy

by Jim Proctor

  “What in the world is going on with him?” Rupert asked the wind.

  The motors spun up, and he felt the ship lurch forward as the propellers bit into the air. Rupert ran back to the door, stepped inside, and grabbed a pair of goggles from a shelf above the chart cabinet. “I can’t see a thing at this speed,” he said before running back to the bow.

  It didn’t take long to close the gap between the ships. Rupert could now see that the other ship’s propellers were stationary. They were drifting on the wind.

  “Ahoy!” he yelled through his cupped hands. “Captain Watson, here. Are you in distress?”

  A tall man and a shorter, stocky man stood at the railing of the other ship.

  “We’re out of fuel and drifting! Can you spare some diesel?” the tall man yelled.

  “I’m afraid not!” Rupert yelled back. “We could tow you to Port Zebron!”

  “That would be greatly appreciated! Thank you!” the tall man yelled. He turned and spoke to the stocky man, who then ran to the bow of the stricken ship.

  Rupert ran back to the wheelhouse, ducked inside, and closed the door.

  “He says he’s out of fuel. I said we would tow his ship to port.”

  “Did he ask for fuel?” Angus asked.

  “Yes, at first. I told him we couldn’t spare any,” said Rupert.

  “Oh well, he’d figure it out before long anyway,” Angus said.

  “Figure what out?” Rupert asked.

  “Nothing,” Angus said. “It can’t be helped. Besides, we can’t leave them adrift out here. I’ll turn us around. You go to the stern and prepare the tow rope,” Angus said.

  Rupert nodded and went out onto the deck and ran to the stern. Opening the lid of a large compartment against the rear of the wheelhouse, he pulled out a length of thin rope. Setting it on the deck by the stern railing, he ran back and wrestled the end of the tow line out and began dragging it, with some effort, across the deck. Feeding the end through a large metal eyelet on the deck, he leaned over and pulled the end up and over the railing. He then began tying the thin drag line to the end of the tow rope. This took some care, since the drag line was no larger around than his index finger while the tow rope was as big around as his forearm. Then, picking up the coil of the drag line, he waited as Angus carefully maneuvered the ship into position. The ship slowed, and Rupert watched as the gap between the ships closed. When they were roughly ten meters apart, he waved to the stocky man who waved back. Taking aim, Rupert drew his arm back and hurled the coil of rope at the other man. He smiled when it nearly fell into the stocky man’s waiting arms.

  The man threaded the rope through the bow eyelet and began pulling. Rupert ran to the compartment and began paying tow line out onto the deck.

  Several minutes later, Rupert returned to the wheelhouse. “They have the rope secured on their end, Angus. If you’ll move ahead gently for a bit, I’ll let out some line until we have a safe distance between us, and then I’ll tie it off. Just give me a minute to get back there to untie it.”

  Angus nodded, and Rupert ran out of the cabin. Angus flipped a switch, lighting a series of three white lamps on a vertical mast above the balloon, indicating to other airships that they had a ship in tow.

  Several minutes later, Rupert entered the wheelhouse and sat on a stool by the chart table. Angus noted for the first time how sweaty his friend was.

  “That was a rough job for one man. Thank you, Rupert,” Angus said.

  Rupert waved a hand. “As you said, we couldn’t leave them adrift. It had to be done. Now, are you going to tell me why you’re on edge?”

  Angus was silent for a while. Finally, he said, “Rupert, my friend, I need you to take what I am going to say at face value and trust that I have reasons for saying it.”

  Rupert nodded. “All right. I trust you, you know that.”

  “I do. Now, the men on that ship are not nice people. If they knew I was on this ship, they would probably try to capture me. I have no idea what they would do to you. They might take you captive, or they might slit your throat and throw you overboard. I want to keep some distance between the ships, and I want to make sure they don’t try anything before we get to Port Zebron.”

  “What can they do?” Rupert asked.

  “They might try to board us by shimmying along the tow rope. Now, listen to me. There’s a sharp ax in the tow rope compartment. If you see one of them trying to cross the gap, cut the tow rope, even if they’re on it.”

  Rupert nodded. “I understand. Maybe, when you’re ready, you’ll tell me how you know all this. For now, though, I’ll take you at your word. My question is, how will they know you’re aboard?”

  “They’re working for her, Rupert, so they probably have a description of my ship. That’s why I wanted to know if they asked you for fuel. They may know my ship is nuclear powered. Think about it. If this were a diesel ship, we’d burn more fuel towing them to port than it would take them to get there on their own. It would be in our best interest to give them fuel if we had it. Now they’ve seen my ship under power, they must know it isn’t diesel powered. It sounds wrong, and there’s no exhaust.”

  “Then why are we towing them? You began behaving oddly as soon as you spotted them in the distance. We could have flown away, and nobody would have been the wiser. Hell, I doubt they had even seen us at that distance.”

  Angus looked at Rupert. “Because I couldn’t do that, not even to them.”

  Rupert smiled. “I knew the answer before I asked. You’re a good man, Angus Beaph.”

  “I do my best,” Angus said.

  “Do you want me to go out on deck and keep an eye on them?”

  Angus pointed to a display screen above the front window. “Rear-facing camera. It has night vision, too.”

  “Nice,” Rupert said. “I thought it was for movie night.”

  Angus laughed. “It can do that, too. But for now, we’ll use it to watch those two.”

  “Do you really think they’ll try to come across the tow rope?”

  Angus shrugged. “I don’t know. Possibly not. If they suspect I’m aboard, their first plan will probably be to get fuel in port quickly and then follow me. That’s where I’ll need your help. When we get there, I want you to call your assistant and tell him not to fuel their ship until you say so.”

  Rupert laughed. “Hah! With the kid running the port, they’ll be lucky if the fuel tanks haven’t blown up. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure their fueling is delayed. Even then, if they’ve run their fuel supply dry, they’ll have to prime the fuel injection system by hand to bleed the air out. They won’t be leaving port in a hurry.”

  “Once I set you down, I’m going to leave immediately. Give me two hours. They’ll have no chance of following me then,” Angus said. Then he added, “I won’t be able to stay in port to unload your fish.”

  Rupert waved a hand. “Keep it. Feed it to the cat.”

  “Thank you, Rupert,” Angus said.

  “It’s just some fish,” Rupert replied.

  “I’m not talking about the fish.”

  Rupert nodded. “I’ve got your back, Angus.”

  * * * *

  “That’s Beaph’s airship, Dolus. It has to be,” Venandi said.

  “Then where is Beaph? We haven’t seen him. If you were going to take an airship under tow, wouldn’t you supervise the handling of the tow rope?” Dolus asked.

  “Yes, under normal circumstances, I would. Still, it’s not a diesel ship, that’s clear.”

  Dolus shook his head. “That doesn’t mean it’s nuclear. It could be electric.”

  “Not here. Not this far from shore. And if it were, they wouldn’t risk trying to tow us to port and stranding themselves on the wind, too. No, that’s Beaph’s ship. I’m certain,” Venandi said.

  Dolus smiled. “Then we’ve found him, sir.”

  Venandi smiled and nodded. “Indeed. A double stroke of luck, and a sad irony—he’s saving our lives, and we’ll deliver hi
m to the Black Witch.”

  “So, what do we do now that we’ve found him?” Dolus asked.

  Venandi looked through the front window of the wheelhouse thoughtfully. “I don’t fancy trying to board his ship out here.”

  “What, you mean going along that rope? You won’t get me doing that!” Dolus said.

  Venandi shook his head. “Nor me. When we get to port, we need to take on fuel quickly. Bribe the port master if you must. Hopefully Beaph will stop in port for a while, too. We need to be ready to go when he leaves. We’ll give him a few minutes head start, and then we’ll follow him at a distance.”

  “Begging your pardon, sir, we still have that problem with the fuel metering. We’re running rich, burning too much fuel. If it gets worse, the engine could foul up and stop,” Dolus said.

  “We’ll have to risk it. Now that we’ve found Beaph, we can’t let him get away while we have the fuel injection recalibrated,” Venandi said.

  “I understand, Captain. I’m just reminding you that it could give us some trouble. We might lose him, anyway.”

  “Understood, Dolus. It’s a risk I have to take.”

  “Yes, sir. At least we’ll be over land this time. If we run into trouble, we can land,” Dolus said.

  “And now, let’s go to the galley and celebrate. I haven’t had an appetite like this since we left Terrania,” Venandi said.

  “Very good, sir. I’ll go and prepare something.”

  “I’ll help you,” the captain said. “And I think I’ll open a bottle of wine, too.”

  Together, they went belowdecks to the galley.

  * * * *

  Standing at the bow railing, Venandi felt at ease for the first time in months. He had enjoyed the meal. He had even enjoyed helping to prepare it. Angus Beaph, the object of his long search, was right there in front of him, he was certain.

  Peering through a small telescope studying the airship that was towing them, he took in every detail, looking for anything that would later help him identify the ship from a distance. The size and shape of the balloon was standard. The hull, unlike his own older, wood-hulled ship, was a modern composite material. A quarter of the ships in service had similar hulls. The propulsion pods were quite unique. A diesel airship had one or two engines within the hull with chains or belts delivering power to the propellers. An electric airship had propulsion pods with small electric motors designed for maximum efficiency with minimum weight and drag. These pods were large, cylindrical objects, each apparently enclosing a large electric motor. Only a nuclear generator could supply the power to such beasts. Yes, this was something he could use to identify the ship from behind, even at a discrete distance.

  The bounty hunter turned and headed back to the wheelhouse, a broad smile on his face. He would catch Angus Beaph, deliver him to the Black Witch, and collect his reward. Then he and Dolus would move to the east coast of Terrania, as far away from her as possible.

  Chapter 16

  “Emmett, get in here this instant!” Venefica screamed.

  Emmett cringed. The witch had been in a foul mood since Hostia escaped, and she’d been taking out her frustration on him every chance she got. Nighttime was his only reprieve, and he was thankful that bedtime was approaching.

  Jogging down the hallway, he stopped in her open bedroom doorway.

  “I want my red nightgown tonight, Emmett,” she said.

  “Yes, mistress,” he said as he entered her room and walked to the closet. Opening the door, he selected one of the many black nightgowns.

  “Not the blue one, you useless troll! I said the red one!”

  “I’m sorry, mistress,” he said. Returning the hangar to the rod, he hesitantly selected another identical gown.

  “Emmett, you stupid… just get out of the way!” she yelled as she swept across the room. Reaching into the closet, she pulled out a nightgown. “Red! Do you see? Red!”

  “Yes, mistress. Red,” he said, lowering his eyes to the floor.

  Returning to the foot of the bed, she gathered her hair in one hand, and turned around. “Unzip me, Emmett.”

  “Yes, mistress,” he said. He grasped the zipper pull and slowly lowered it down her back and past her waist.

  Clutching the dress to her chest, she turned around. Her eyes bore into him, and he was unable to avert his gaze. She gave him a mischievous grin before letting the dress slide to the floor. His eyes slowly lowered to her perfect chest. Lower still, his eyes went to the silky white skin stretched taut over her firm abdominal muscles. Emmett tried to stop his eyes, but they continued down to the triangular patch of hair. Farther his eyes went over her flawless thighs, past her knees, down her shapely calves, stopping at the dress heaped on the floor around her ankles.

  “You want me, don’t you, Emmett?” she asked in a sultry tone.

  Emmett froze. How could he answer? By saying yes and admitting he wanted her? By saying no, implying she wasn’t desirable? Either way he lost, but what answer was she looking for?

  “Yes, mistress,” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Emmett, I didn’t hear you. Do you want me?” Her hand gently stroked his cheek.

  “Yes, mistress,” he said more firmly.

  Stepping out of the dress, she said, “Pick it up, Emmett.”

  Emmett bent down to grasp the dress, and her fingers softly caressed the back of his neck. He froze for a moment, then picked up the dress and stood.

  “Take good care of it, Emmett. You know that’s my favorite dress,” she said sweetly.

  “Yes, mistress,” he said, moving to drape it carefully over the back of a chair by the door.

  “Come here, Emmett,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, which nevertheless contained a command impossible to resist. His body turned and walked to her.

  He tried desperately to keep his eyes from taking in her body… and failed. Maybe she was controlling them. His eyes flowed over her exquisite body from head to toes and back.

  “Do you know how long it’s been since I was with a man, Emmett?” she asked.

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “You do? Oh, of course you do. You were listening at the door,” she said with a mocking laugh.

  “No, mistress, I wasn’t,” he insisted.

  “Don’t lie to me, Emmett. I felt you right outside my door, listening to every glorious, sensual sound, wishing it were you in bed with me,” she said.

  He had listened at the door, and he had wished that it was him with her. He wanted her so badly, and yet he despised her.

  “You do want me, Emmett. I can tell,” she said.

  In this moment, he wanted her body even more than his freedom.

  “Yes, mistress, more than anything,” he confessed.

  The witch smiled as she stroked his cheek softly. Her hand quickly withdrew. “Too bad. You will never have me, you filthy swine.” She laughed, and the sound burned his very soul. “Put my nightgown on me, Emmett.”

  “Yes, mistress,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he held back tears.

  Venefica held her arms straight out. Emmett slipped the gown over them, guiding the sleeves over her hands. She slowly raised her arms, and he stepped closer, raising the hem over her head, pulling it down past her shoulders, guiding it over her breasts, down past her waist and over her buttocks, down her thighs. He realized he had been holding his breath, so he released it in a loud sigh. Venefica laughed.

  “Poor, poor Emmett. He desperately wants me, but he can never have me.” Her laughter grew.

  Emmett closed his eyes, wishing for the sound to end. Her laughter burned him and froze him at the same time.

  “You may go, Emmett,” she said.

  Opening his eyes, he saw she was smiling at him. She had enjoyed taunting him.

  “Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress,” he said.

  Picking up the dress as he went, he stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut. Drying his eyes with his sleeve, he turned and headed toward the laundry room.
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  Carefully hanging the dress in the cleaning machine, he closed the door and set the controls. The episode in the bedroom replayed in his mind, and he rushed to his room, into his bathroom, and turned on the shower, setting the water to cold.

  Quickly taking off his clothes, he stepped under the water and shivered as it poured over him, cooling him, rinsing away his desire for that evil woman… that gorgeous, exquisite, perfect, evil woman.

  He turned slowly under the spray, desperate for the throbbing to subside.

  “Daddy, the water is too cold,” his son said.

  “Come on, you’ll get used to it,” Emmett said as a wave crashed and rushed past their legs.

  His son took his hand and followed him farther into the water. It was cold. His son shivered. A wave rushed past them, soaking him to the waist and his son to his shoulders.

  “It’s cold, Daddy!” his son complained.

  “Do you want to get out?” he asked. “We can go back, if you’d like.”

  After a moment, his son said, “No, a little farther.”

  Emmett took a few steps, still holding his son’s hand. A new wave broke, a wall of white water rushed toward them.

  “Get ready to jump, Evan!” he shouted. “One, two, three, jump!”

  Evan gripped his hand tightly and jumped, rising over the rushing white foam. Landing again, he looked up into Emmett’s face and smiled. Evan had such a sweet smile. Oh, how he loved to see it.

  “His name is Evan!” he said in a quavering voice as he shivered under the cold shower. “I remember Evan!”

  * * * *

  Venefica pushed back her chair and stood. “I’m finished, Emmett. You’ll only need to prepare one bowl of food for my guests this morning. Come and put my boots on me.”

  Emmett nodded. Following her to her room, he went to the closet and pulled out her special boots. Sitting on the foot of her bed, one leg held out straight, she hiked the hem of her dress up nearly to the tops of her thighs. She smiled at him as he stared.

  “Come now, you mustn’t keep me waiting, Emmett. I want to play with one of my friends.”