by Barney Broom
This also didn’t seem to overly impress the creator of Ultimate Alternative Reality, who gingerly took a sip of the fiery alcohol and screwed up his face in disgust.
“God!”
Podric cleared his throat.
“Have to get used to that if you’re going to hang out in these times…”
“Archie, it’s a game – remember? We’re inside a game.”
Archie drank more. Perhaps he thought additional alcohol would make his headache go away.
“You reckon? Surely the point of all this is you wanted what would seem like real-life adventures in another world. But this is so real, what if it was? What if we could change things, change the course of history? Don’t you see what that would mean, what a profound thing UAR would be?”
Archie was getting excited.
“We can’t, Archie. We’re currently existing in an artificial environment – a world of games. That’s the alternative reality we’re experiencing. We’ve arrived here via mind pathing. UAR’s enabled me, us, to alter the senses controlling our imagination, but when we want to, we’ll come out of the game and get back to our normal lives.”
Archie banged the bench they were sitting on.
“Does this feel artificial to you?”
Fired up, he quaffed still more liquor.
“Some graphics card, huh? This bench is real, Podric. These clothes, these people – they’re all real. What you’ve done is transport us back in history, real time.”
“That can’t be.”
“Alright – let’s get out then back in now, then. Activate UAR.”
Putting his hand to his wrist, Podric was about to do so when another brawl started up across the bar. People seemed to get into a lot of fights here, whatever world they were in. The loudest voice raised was American.
“I don’t give a dollar dime for the British Navy. We use lemons on our ships – no cheap limes – and no British limey’s gonna tell me where I can sail my boat or when!”
Rolling away from the group amidst raucous banter, Captain Saul Prendergast caught sight of the two officers.
“Well, that’s a first. An officer’s ale house, now, is it?”
Prendergast lurched over to Podric and Archie.
“Say, don’t I know you? Your arrogant face looks familiar. And you boy, I’ve seen you somewhere…”
“Ha! Did I impound your vessel for smuggling or outsail you before the wind?”
“Why, you stuck up—”
“’Nough of that, you.”
The bartender appeared. An enormous man, he put a hand on Prendergast’s shoulder.
“Get off me! Lousy bloody British.”
In taking a half-hearted swipe at the barman, Prendergast’s money bag somehow came loose and fell unnoticed between Archie’s legs. The games inventor wasn’t slow in covering the windfall.
“Be on your way then, right enough.”
“You… Don’t think you’ve seen the last of me.”
Archie laughed.
“I won’t.”
Prendergast turned back to Archie.
“And when I catch you…”
“That’s something you’ll never be able to manage, Captain Prendergast.”
Prendergast stopped in his tracks.
“How d’you know my name?”
“Put it down to the superior knowledge of the Royal Navy, Saul.”
“You know this man?”
The bartender was surprised.
“It’s been my misfortune to have some dealings with him.”
“Get out, you!”
The barman was more forceful towards Prendergast. His massive form towered above the American.
“I’m darned if I know what’s going on here, but when I get to the bottom of it—”
The bartender kicked Prendergast out the door. Unnoticed, Archie picked up the American captain’s money pouch and pocketed it.
“Something else you’ll never do, Saul, old boy.”
The barman re-entered and Archie smiled.
“Our bill and one for yourself.”
“Thank you, sir. Four pence in all then.”
Archie took some coins from his pocket.
“American coinage do? Have some more for your trouble.”
Putting several additional coins into the barman’s hand, he turned to Podric.
“Now, my young friend – we must join ship.”
“Which’ll that be, sir?”
The barman was civility itself.
“Why, Agamemnon – Admiral Nelson’s.”
At this, laughter broke out amongst the general gathering.
“Why, he isn’t no admiral, that slip of a man – oh no, sir. Can’t see ’em ever being that. You’ll be dreaming that one.”
Archie laughed.
“Of course, you’re right. You never know, perhaps…”
“He’s got no connections, no one to give him a leg up. A man’s got to ’ave connections for advancement in the navy. Still, I don’t need to go telling you that, sir. I hear Cap’n Nelson has a fine ship.”
“And may Dame Fortune smile on him.”
With an enigmatic look on his face, Archie led Podric from the bar. Janey the barmaid looked on intensely as the midshipman and lieutenant went out.
“Don’t get ideas above yer station, girl.”
“Who said I ’ad ideas. I knows ’im.”
“Hear that, lads – Janey here knows the young snotty!”
“Does she now? How might that be? Knowin’ ’im – or knowin’ ’im?”
Lewd merriment followed the two naval officers as they went down to the harbour.
2
Aboard the Agamemnon
A night watchman’s swinging lantern cast dancing shadows across the wharf as Archie and Podric made their way along it.
“You didn’t tell me you profiled Saul Prendergast into UAR.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Fair enough. Why him?”
“Thought it might be interesting since you’ve alienated Secorni’s management, and Prendergast in particular.”
“You’re certainly possessed of a particular sense of humour, Podric.”
Archie stopped and stared at his wrist.
“Right, activate UAR. Let’s get out of here now.”
Some broken barrels and old fishing nets lay in disarray at the back of the quay. Squatting down, Podric took hold of Archie’s left wrist and right index finger, activating the game.
“My God!”
Archie couldn’t believe what he was looking at and hearing. Marshal music played in his ear and superimposed across his eyes appeared the games standby screen – an image of Napoleon with armies, navies, and maps of Europe behind him. At the top of his field of vision were icons giving options from ‘Battles’ (land and maritime) to ‘Politics and Diplomacy’, ‘Strategy’ and even ‘Religion’. Awed by the experience, Archie suddenly became aware of other sounds – sounds that were outside the game and in his current surroundings.
“I know that bark!”
Looking around, Archie saw behind the game three men and Dog appear along the quay. The animal’s senses locating his master, the hound bounded up to him.
“Thank heavens for that!”
A relieved young midshipman dusted his coat.
“Thought I was never going to get rid of him.”
It was Billy Johnson! Having adjusted his uniform, Billy watched Dog leap about Archie. Grabbing Archie’s right hand, Podric pressed his index finger to his left wrist.
Seeing Light’s rank, Billy came to attention. Archie suddenly realised that UAR had disappeared and his vision had returned to normal. He shook his head and, coming to, saluted.
“Sir.”
Billy Johnson stared at the lieutenant. Perceiving his error, Archie was about to bluster when he noticed Billy’s gaze had turned to Podric.
“Dog is somewhat possessive of me, idiot animal. You alright Mr…?”
Years of discipline having been drummed into him, Billy snapped out of his reverie.
“Sir. Johnson, sir. William Johnson. “Thought I recognised this snotty, sir – sorry, midshipman.”
“Oh, Mr. Moon… What ship are you from Mr Johnson?”
“Agamemnon, sir.”
“Then we’re to have the pleasure of your company. Captain Nelson’s invited us to sail to Toulon with you. We’re to re-join our ship Zealous.”
“Delighted, I’m sure, sir.”
“What’s he like, Captain Nelson?”
“Why sir, he’s the best captain in the fleet.”
“How do you quantify ‘best’?”
Billy Johnson thought for a minute. Podric had seen this look a thousand times before in the twenty-first century – in the village, on the bus, at school.
“He’s… he’s not like other men, sir. He is sort of, but he’s special. He… has a knack, a way of making you do things you’ll likely not want to do – yet you do them for him, as though you were making him happy by carrying out his wishes. He’s easy, but he can be tough. He’s different.”
The sound of a boat’s oars splashing in the harbour coincided with shouts and laughter of men and women coming along the jetty. Dog sniffed around Archie in anticipation.
“You’re… not bringing him, are you, sir?”
Several sailors appeared with two girls in tow. The blonde caught Archie’s eye, fluttering hers provocatively. Further laughter engulfed the group.
“If Captain Nelson allows women aboard his ship, he’s hardly going to disallow our four-legged friend.”
The sailors and girls began climbing into the long boat.
“Four-legged friend – I suppose that’s what he is, sir.”
Podric and Archie got aboard. Dog leaped in after them. There was chaos as an uncertain wolfhound tried to move about the little craft.
The coxswain leaned over and placed his shoulder against the jetty. Putting the tiller down hard, he expertly guided the boat out into the harbour.
“He’s a bloody big bugger, that dog.”
The following morning found Agamemnon wallowing in a torpid Mediterranean Sea – grey sky and little wind.
“Weather could get up quick, sir. Mark my words.”
“I will, Quartermaster, I will.”
Captain Nelson paced the deck. In spite of the dullness of the day, his spirits were bright. Spying Archie Light amidst an array of officers, he called over to him.
“Berthed satisfactorily, Mr. Light?”
“Very well sir, thank you.”
“And Mr. Moon settled in with the young gentlemen. Settled in is a misnomer. I never knew a young gentleman yet who ever ‘settled in’.”
Several officers standing nearby chuckled.
“I gather we have another visitor. I must say, Mr. Light, in all my years at sea, whilst you’re not the first officer to bring his pet aboard, ribbons and bows tend to feature rather more prominently than man’s best friend. Your wolfhound is certainly the largest I’ve ever seen. May I ask how you came by him?”
“He was one of the several dogs involved in a television commercial – advertising paint. When a particular campaign finished, the director was going to have him, but the man was killed in an accident. I knew the PA and she called up asking if I’d take Dog.”
Archie was suddenly aware that several heads were turned in his direction – their eyes staring – as were Nelson’s.
“Sir.”
“Mr. Light – you are English, are you?”
“I am, sir.”
“What, pray, is a television commercial? And why would anyone wish to – what did you say? – ‘advertise’ paint…?”
Realising he’d allowed himself to relax into the twenty-first century, Archie began to sweat.
“Don’t mind me, sir. My mind…”
“Were you called at the court-martial?”
“Yes, sir.”
Archie lied.
“Hmm. Stressful business. Still, advertising paint, promoting paint – extraordinary. Wartime, we’re always short of the stuff.”
Archie grabbed at the conversational straw.
“Do you think it will be a long fight, sir?”
Nelson stared out at the lumpy sea.
“I do. We can survive because of the navy. On land, it is more difficult. We dine at three. You’ll join me.”
Without further ado, he turned on his heel and went below.
“… And that, gentlemen, is a quadratic equation.”
Crouched in the midshipmen’s cramped quarters, Lieutenant Hammond, HMS Agamemnon’s third lieutenant, dropped the chalkboard carelessly on a chest. Picking up a notebook, he idly turned its pages of numerics.
“Who did this gibberish?”
“Me, sir.”
Billy Johnson stood his ground.
“Wasn’t aware you could use a chronometer, Johnson.”
“Sir.”
Hammond appeared irritated.
“What are your navigational skills like, Mister Moon? Non-existent I expect, just as all the other imbeciles, it’s my misfortune to nurse are.”
Podric didn’t comment.
“You children… how are we ever to have an effective navy?”
Hammond glared at them unsympathetically.
“Quarter of the hour. On deck with your sextants ready.”
“Sir. Captain Nelson invited us to dine, sir.”
“Well, we’ll get fifteen minutes then, won’t we.”
“But it won’t even be that, sir. You know what the Captain’s like about punctuality.”
“Are you presuming to disobey me, Johnson?”
“No, Hammond.”
“Mister Hammond to you, snotty!”
“’Sir – Mister Hammond.”
The third lieutenant took out a fob watch.
“Twelve minutes.”
Hammond turned on his heel and clambered up the companionway, leaving the two midshipmen standing awkwardly.
“You don’t know me in this world, Billy, but I know you.”
Drawn to Podric, Billy smiled shyly.
“How?”
Podric looked around.
“We don’t have much time.”
Reaching into his ear, he removed the tiny earpiece. Billy looked at it with uncomprehending eyes.
“What’s that?”
Podric sighed.
“I don’t know where to begin.”
Eleven minutes and fifty seconds later, Billy and Podric appeared at the fo’c’sle. Billy carried a sextant and a worn log book under his arm.
“Where’s your sextant, Moon?”
Hammond barked the question.
“I don’t have one… sir.”
“You’re really going to benefit from a navigation class.”
Hammond’s sarcasm was belittling.
At that moment, another officer appeared on deck, his first lieutenant’s uniform immaculate. Unaware of this, Podric spoke up.
“I know where we are though, sir.”
“Really?”
Hammond’s tone was sarcastic.
“And…?”
“43º7’0”N / 5º55’59”E.”
“A likely story. You young midders—”
Catching sight of the first lieutenant, he stopped abruptly. Hinton came over to the group.
“Actually, Hammond, the boy’s right. I’ve just checked.”
Hinton turned to Podric.
“What’s your name?”
<
br /> “Moon, sir. Podric Moon.”
“Oh yes. You came aboard with that other cove – er… Lieutenant Light and his dog, didn’t you?”
“Sir.”
“You’d better come with me. Carry on, Hammond.”
About to depart, Hinton looked round again.
“Come to think of it, Johnson, you’d better look lively. Captain Nelson invited you to his table today, did he not?”
“Sir.”
“Have a good watch, Hammond.”
That afternoon as Midshipman William Johnson looked around the table, he couldn’t quite believe the conversation he’d had with Podric Moon an hour or so before. Looking across at his friend, there didn’t seem to be anything odd about him. His hair was a little shorter than the others, but he looked well, normal. That is except for what Billy knew Podric had in his ear. What a strange object. And it was the other thing in Podric’s wrist they’d used to calculate their position from Billy’s battered logarithm book. It was all very weird. Someone was talking to him. What was the chaplain saying?
“Mister Johnson, are you quite well, sir? That’s the third time I’ve had to remind you that the port is with you.”
Snapping out of his reverie, Billy quickly poured himself a glass and passed on the decanter. Catching Lieutenant Light’s eye, Podric had told him the lieutenant and his dog were also with him.
“Was there something…?”
The lieutenant’s manner was neutral.
“Oh, er, no sir.”
Luncheon breaking up, Nelson led his officers on deck. Looking out to starboard, land was faintly visible.
“We’ll shortly be off Toulon and under the services of my Lord Hood.”
“You’re pleased to be at sea again, sir?”
Archie was deferential.
“Of course. Seven years on the beach is more than enough for any sailor.”
“Do you…? Do you consider yourself destined, sir?”
Nelson looked round at Light sharply.
“That might be regarded as impertinent, Mr. Light.”
“I didn’t mean it in that way at all, my lor— sir.”
“You’re a strange fellow, Light.”
Nelson stared across the deck, his gaze suddenly far away.
It reminded Archie of a look Podric sometimes had.
“It’s a strange thing, the future. Something we cannot foretell –what it may hold. D’you think you know the future, Mr. Light?”
