by Dave Brown
“I hear it now,” the doctor said.
Now that the sound was more audible, Reg was homing in on a direction. He looked aft and to port, northeast, scanning the sea. There was nothing. He raised his eyes to the sky and saw a speck moving against the cloudless backdrop.
“I think it's a plane,” he said. He glanced ahead to where the Folly was drifting slowly toward them, a kilometer away at least. Then he looked back at the northeastern sky and saw the speck getting bigger. Soon he could make out wings and pontoons. It was definitely a single engine prop plane of some make. He picked up the radio microphone off the instrument panel. “Folly, this is Stoneham, over.”
“Read you, Reg,” came Barbara's voice from the speaker. “What's up?”
“There's an aircraft approaching our position, single engine propeller. What should we do?”
“I dunno,” she replied and Reg shook his head. Civilian life had its charms but sometimes he missed military discipline and procedure. “I'll get Errol.”
“Affirmative, Folly, we're standing by.”
The aircraft continued to grow in Reg's view. It was painted white, but he thought he saw a bit of red around the sides. Its wings dipped a bit and the craft turned directly toward them. “Spotted us,” Reg said.
“Reg, it's Errol,” the radio squawked. “We can't see much yet.”
“Neither can I, Captain. It just turned directly toward us. I think they know we're here.”
A new voice came out of the speaker. “That's affirmative. This is Jimmy Hong calling the big red ship or the little orange boat. Good afternoon!”
“Did you read that, Folly?” Reg didn't want to reply directly without clearing it with the Captain.
“We read you, Jimmy. This is research vessel Errol's Folly, Errol Stimsky speaking. What can I do for you?”
“Research vessel? Okay. Well, we're just out looking for potential visitors. Would you mind if we stopped by and said hello, face to face?”
There was a second or two of static. Reg knew Errol was weighing the decision carefully. The first time they made contact with anyone in four years had ended up costing them a well loved and valued crew member. He would be wary of doing it again.
“We've had some trouble with raiders, Jimmy. I hope you'll understand if I'm a little on the cautious side.”
The voice on the other end sounded calm and reassuring. “Understand completely, Folly. We won't be insulted at all if you point a few guns at us as we step out. In fact I'd be suspicious if you didn't.”
“Well... Looking forward to meeting you I guess,” Errol said. “Reg, why don't you and Hayes head back.”
“Affirmative, Captain, we're on our way.”
“It's just Errol, Reg.”
Chapter 11
The sea plane got big enough in the binoculars that Errol realized he didn't need them anymore. He hung them from a hook glued to a bulkhead and watched the craft approach. It skidded into the water on their starboard side a few hundred feet away.
“Looks like they're gonna swing around behind us and settle to port,” Jones said from beside him.
“Get somebody on the crane, put the carriage down there so they can get aboard without having to swim to the ladder. I want you down there with your harpoon gun but don't be a dick about it.”
Jones turned to leave. “When have I ever been a dick?” he asked over his shoulder.
Errol barked a laugh at his back, but his mood was not lightened. He hoped Jones understood why he requested the harpoon. Better to hide the extent of their defenses in case they needed a surprise later.
As the plane floated past starboard he got a good look at it. It was painted a bright white with a bold red stripe running from the nose to the tail. It looked to be about forty feet long with a sixty foot wingspan. He guessed it had a dozen or so seats. Small enough to fit on top of one of the Folly's main hatch covers. The tail had an interesting logo painted on the back. It looked like a maple leaf from the Canadian flag, but instead of solid red it was painted with three wide bands: white, blue, and red from top to bottom. The colors of the Russian flag. Then it disappeared from view and he went to the port side of the bridge to watch it come around.
When it finally came to a stop, about even with the space between hatches two and three, Errol stepped out onto the catwalk and looked down at Jones standing by the port side rail. The crane was swinging the carriage smoothly down toward the plane. It came to rest less than a foot behind the wing, and Errol guessed Patty was at the controls. She had a knack for running the bulker's one remaining lifter.
He saw two people step gingerly out of the plane and into the metal frame carriage: a man and a woman. The woman looked toward the deck and gave Jones a thumbs up, which he relayed to the crane operator. The carriage swung up and over the rail, then settled just above the deck rather than actually making contact. Definitely Patty. Errol walked back inside the bridge.
A few minutes later the man and woman entered the bridge with Jones behind them, his hands resting lightly on top of his old harpoon gun slung in front of him. The man was wearing a busy Hawaiian print shirt, oil stained jeans and an unzipped white hoodie bearing a red maple leaf on the left breast. His features were unmistakably Southeast Asian in origin. The woman was petite, with auburn hair and piercing gray eyes. She wore a brown leather jacket over a coverall the color of old denim.
“Captain Stimsky, I presume?” said the man, holding out his hand. Errol took it and gave a quick shake. “I'm Jimmy Hong. This is my wife, La-”
“Svetlana Sergeyovna Lebedova,” she said in a stern voice. Jimmy's broad smile was briefly distorted by a wink, and Errol couldn't help but smile. They looked like a comedy duo on some fifty's variety show.
“Apparently only I get to call her Lana. Anyhoo, pleased to meet you!”
“Uh, likewise,” said Errol, “But it's just Errol. I assume Jones introduced himself. What can I do for you?”
“No no, buddy, it's what we can do for you! We're kinda like talent scouts, eh? Have you heard of New Taiwan?”
Errol shrugged, “Can't say that I have.”
“Well, it's sort of an artificial island, east of here right now. We got agriculture and crafts and all kinds of stuff. Lana and I fly around looking for fresh trade. Anybody that comes with our marker... oh right!” He stopped and began digging around in the pockets of his hoodie and jeans. His wife reached into her jacket, pulled something out, and extended it toward Errol between two fingers, all in one fluid motion. He held it in his palm and looked at it. A white plastic poker chip with the same Russian-Canadian maple leaf painted fastidiously on each side.
“Eh, thanks baby! Anyway, you show that when you're bartering and what-not, we get a little finder's fee.”
Errol was stunned. Until a month ago they'd been floating around the Pacific for four years without seeing another living person. The idea of missing an entire island was hard to swallow. “How long has this New Taiwan been in business?”
“Oh, not too long. They were just a bunch of ships at first, containers and a couple bulkers like you here. They all came together a year or so ago and decided to build a functioning economy again. Now they're all lashed together.”
Now that he thought about it, Errol could start to believe it. They had tried to stay near land through most of their wandering, which left a huge patch of empty ocean that any number of vessels could inhabit.
“So where are they now?”
“Oh, a few hundred miles east of here, a little bit south, too. You folks headed someplace in particular?”
Errol looked at Jones, and his old friend just shrugged. Errol shrugged, too. “Not really,” he said.
“Well, I know at least a dozen different guys with stuff you could use on this old tub, and I bet you've got some interesting stuff to trade. We'd love to see you there.”
“Yeah, um,” Errol tried to think about the situation but it was all so new and weird that he was drawing a blank. “Yeah, that soun
ds neat.”
“Perhaps our guests would like to stay for an early supper, sir?” Jones was far better at dealing with unexpected social situations than Errol.
“Yes, please, we haven't seen many new faces. Just one, in fact, in the last four years. We'd love a chance to get to know you.”
“Well, very kind of you Captain! We'd love to!”
“James,” said the dour Mrs. Lebedova.”
“Lana,” he said and gave her what Errol assumed was his sweetest possible smile.
“Da,” she sighed.
#
Mrs. Lebedova's demeanor changed remarkably when presented with a plate of cooked vegetables from the Folly's hydroponics bay. Apparently fresh produce was something of a luxury for them, though whether it was due to their own lifestyle or the overall food situation in New Taiwan was not clear. Her husband did a better job at hiding his amazement, but Errol could tell it was there.
He gave the couple a brief description of the Folly project and tried to suppress a wince when Jimmy mentioned what a lucky coincidence it was that they had a self sustaining ship ready right at the moment of the collapse. He still felt some amount of guilt about knowing the fate of the world a year before anyone else but he was starting to feel better about it now that they were beginning to find other people. Maybe starting over wasn't such an impossibility after all.
“So, how long have the two of you been married?” Anne asked. Except for a few people that couldn't leave their duties or projects, the whole crew was there for the meal.
“Two beautiful years,” said Jimmy. Svetlana looked at him with a warm smile on her face and Errol turned his attention to his plate. He always felt like a voyeur when people expressed affection for each other.
“Oh,” Anne said, “Did you meet after... you know?”
Jimmy nodded sagely, “Yeah, about a year. I was living on canned greens and fish at the office of my air taxi business, back in Vancouver. That's my bird out there, but I never finished learning to fly it. Running the business took up all my time in the two years I owned it. Anyhoo, I was out in my little rowboat one day hauling up dinner when this beat-to-shit little plane comes gliding in. If I hadn't been looking I wouldn't even know it was there.”
“Out of fuel,” Svetlana added.
“You betcha. So she splashes down about thirty feet away and out pops my Lana. She swam right over to me, climbed into the boat and we've been together ever since.”
Svetlana straightened up and proudly declared, “James and I decided to form first Russian-Canadian government. He is Prime Minister and I am Tsarina.” They chuckled together, as did most of the crew. The warmth between the couple had a buoying effect on the rest of them. That was the moment Errol decided setting a course for New Taiwan was their next move.
Chapter 12
Anne packed a small hemp cloth bag with some fresh berries and broccoli. Jimmy and Svetlana didn't want to take it after being given such a generous meal but she insisted. They had a long flight ahead. After Jimmy marked the position of New Taiwan on one of Errol's charts, the whole crew assembled on deck to see the pair off. Anne hugged Svetlana a little tighter than she had planned, but the pilot returned it just as strongly.
“We'll let 'em know you're coming. I know a few folks in the food business that will trade a pretty penny for some of your time and expertise.” Jimmy gave Anne a wink and then stepped into the carriage after his wife. Patty lowered them gently down to their plane and ten minutes later there was no evidence they were ever there except for a painted poker chip in Errol's pocket.
That night Anne sat on her bunk and stared at the porthole. The lights were off and she could see a few stars through the little round window. She started when a knock sounded on her hatch.
“Come in.”
The wheel spun and Reg pushed the the door open. “Hello, love.”
She smiled at him, “Hi.”
He settled onto the opposite end of her bunk, his back to the other wall so they were facing each other. “Thought you might want to waffle a bit.”
“Waffle?”
“Talk. You looked a little, I dunno, overwhelmed when they left.”
She nodded. “New faces, and more on the way.” Errol had ordered the sails put out and course changed less than an hour after the plane left. “It was different when we found you. We knew almost right away that there was trouble. This seems... almost normal. A place where people live and do business and get married.” She saw a little flash of anxiety pass over his face, but to his credit he recovered quickly. “Relax, sailor, I just meant the idea of a place where normal things like that happen.”
“I know what you mean. It was quite a change for me going from one lifestyle to another after four years. Some things I'm still not quite accustomed to.”
She put out one of her bare feet on his shin and rubbed. “Like fraternizing with other crew members?”
He smiled. “Oh no, there was plenty of that.”
She feigned outrage and gave him a little shove with her heel.
“No, I mean things like having a procedure all practiced out for when mysterious planes appear.”
She looked at her feet and considered for a moment. “I guess we just got used to winging things.”
“In that case, why don't you lock that hatch and we'll see what sort of things we can improvise.”
#
The crew took their time and did a little sprucing up on the way there. It had been quite some time since the Folly had been given anything better than routine maintenance. Anne focused on the hydroponics bays, doing her best to get all the dirt out of the corners and get her work benches in some kind of order. She was busy scrubbing out some empty troughs when the ship's speaker system blared to life. “This is Errol. Anybody that wants a look at New Taiwan should head up to the bow.”
She nearly dropped the trough she was working on out of excitement but managed to set it gently down in its rack again. Then she hurried aft through the ship, up the stairs and out onto the deck. A dozen of her friends were already outside, moving forward to the bow. Anne caught up with Barbara. They put their arms around each other's waists and leaned against the railing.
Up ahead she saw a massive dark shape. It could have been mistaken for the skyline of a small city if they weren't in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. A few of the crew had brought binoculars and these were making the rounds. A set came to Anne and she raised them up to her face. The magnification wasn't much but she could start to see that the vertical shapes were towers much like the Folly's. New Taiwan appeared comprised of several large cargo ships in close proximity. She started counting them and had gotten to twelve when Barbara nudged her and asked for the binoculars.
Minutes passed as they watched the island get bigger. There were a dozen different conversations happening around the bow but Anne couldn't be bothered to follow any of them. Then she heard machinery grind to life behind her, and turned to see the sails contracting inward. At the same time a rumble that was felt more than heard indicated the engine had been brought to life. They slowed a bit at first as it spun up and then evened out at roughly the same speed. Looking back at the island, she saw a little black shape moving along the surface of the water toward them. It quickly grew into an inflatable boat with an outboard engine, two people sitting inside. She suddenly remembered looking over the side of the ship at a raft full of armed raiders approaching her home. A cold splash of anxiety threatened to wash away her anticipation.
“Anne, please drop the ladder over the port side,” came Errol's voice over the speakers. Something to do, just what she needed. She jogged back to the tower and pulled the rolled up rope ladder out of its closet, then secured it to the port side rail. It wasn't long before the little boat sidled up next to them and one of the passengers climbed up the ladder. The boat turned and zipped away as soon as the man had made it over the railing.
“Zeke, pleased to meet you,” he said. Anne shook the man's outstretched hand. He w
ore a long gray coat over khaki shorts and a blue work shirt. She guessed his accent as Australian.
“Anne Grundig, nice to meet you” she said, the first thing that came to mind.
“Anne, lovely. Well, if you'll show me to the bridge?”
“Uh, yeah, right this way.”
He followed her into the tower and up the stairs. Errol and Jones were already on the bridge, and once inside she saw Reg seated on a stool in front of the radio gear. He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a wink that sent a little thrill through her stomach.
“Captain Stimsky?” Zeke said, hand extended again.
“It's just Errol. You're Zeke?”
“I'm Zeke.”
The man in the coat, who she quickly learned was from New Zealand originally, shook hands with Jones and Reg as well. Then Errol surprised her by relinquishing control of the bridge to this relative stranger. She stepped over to Jones and leaned in to speak close to his ear.
“What's going on?”
“When you park or launch a big ship like this, most places will send you out a local pilot that knows the situation better. Standard procedure.”
“Why didn't we need one when we left Coos Bay?”
He grinned and looked right at her. “We did need one but ours was a zombie at the time so we took our chances.”
She stood stunned by the thought that they could have been stuck in some sand bar for the last four years. Zeke was making notes on a spiral pad he had produced from a coat pocket and consulting Errol about the Folly's speed and maneuverability. Anne decided to leave this part to the pros and go back to tidying up her work space. She thought if she could keep busy she wouldn't spin her wheels worrying about the Folly crashing into one of those big ships.
Chapter 13
