by Robert Brown
Who lived through mutiny, plague and flak
Strong and calloused, brave and tired
All those who could stay inspired
Captain Robert took his ship
To Beijing and to Mozambique
Stir crazy or in irons he clapped them
One of them tried to kiss the captain
A skeleton crew is what came back
Who lived through mutiny, plague and flak
Strong and calloused, brave and tired
All those who could stay inspired
I didn’t see her again for a week. We tied off just above a forest a couple miles out side a foggy little fishing town, a couple hours north of London, and as the crew made quiet repairs I didn’t spot her once.
Occasionally, I was given confused hints from the crew that “Lilith stormed in asking about empty crates. I told her to talk to you, capt’n.” Or, “When’s Lilith going to return my wrenches? The girl’s had’em for a week.” In retrospect, I should have looked into these things, but I was so relieved to have her out of my hair, I did nothing.
A STOLEN MONSTER
We were rested, and prepared for our next mission. I stood at the wheel, once again with Daniel over my shoulder. We had spent the week laying plans for our biggest task yet, to take down the biggest villain I had ever heard of.
The ship was even more “bolted down” than before. With each jump through time, it seemed more things broke loose, so we kept tying more and more down in the hopes to not emerge in a dangling mess. The problem was some of the damage was becoming structural, and all the ropes in the world weren’t going to hold together the cracked beams running though the center of the hull. However, we’d gotten so mindlessly confident with our ability to make do, we risked it again and again.
“Hit the switch!” I yelled into the horn. In a moment, I felt the sinking feeling, and the whole room started an a-rhythmical rumbling. That was new. My ears popped, this time incredibly painfully! Without thinking, I let go of the wheels to grab at my ears, and the ship lunged like we’d hit the side of a mountain!
I flew off my feet and slid across the floor, smashing into the stained-glass window and shattering several panels that embedded themselves in my face and hands.
The entire room, in fact the entire gondola, then began to swing back the other direction. Daniel grabbed the wheel in my absense. I could see blood dripping from his ears down the side of his cheeks, he had the amazingly useful skill of being able to ignore pain until after a battle was over.
As the gondola reached the far side of its swing, I could hear ropes outside twang, and snap, and the cabin dropped a foot or more, sending books and maps fluttering through the air. It seemed some vital support lanyards had broken free, and now the whole ship was a foot or two off kilter.
Soon things settled down, and I stood up. Daniel flashed me a raised eyebrow to say, “Not good!” He tied off the wheel and we staggered out on deck, hands to our ears, to get our position.
It was cold. Cold as death, and the cuts on my face and hands burned. The deck of the Ophelia hung slightly angled, and as the other sailors emerged they walked cautiously and commented to each other in the soft worried tones you whisper at someone’s deathbed.
I pointed my glass downward and scanned across pine trees, little rivers, a quaint European house with steep roof, a handmade fence with a horse tied to it. Past the house were green fields, and roads, sheep, a brand new “vintage” automobile, a grain silo, and…
Daniel tapped my shoulder, and I heard terrifying sound; Propellers. I raised and focused my glass and I saw fighter planes! My heart dropped.
Thirty or more World War II fighter planes were flying parallel to us a couple miles to port, each sporting the insignia of the Luftwaffe. They appeared to be escorting two massive zeppelins.
We’d made a mistake. Actually, I had made a mistake, a big one. I had taken on our greatest goal: to stop Hitler and his genocide during World War II. We’d been fairly successful up until now, and I had gotten cocky. When we planned this mission, I didn’t account for the fact that this war took place fifty years after the H.M.S. Ophelia had been built. It all seemed like ancient history, from my perspective.
But we’d been winning because we always had superior technology. Now we were essentially in the future compared to when the ship was built. We were antiquated. I overlooked the fact that the German army at this point was massive, incredibly strong, and unbelievably high tech by Victorian standards. Most importantly, I overlooked the fact that they had an actual air force.
“What in god’s name is that!!!” yelled one of the crew, as the cloud of fighter planes altered course and headed towards us.
“That’s trouble” I muttered back. That’s the end of us all! Is what I wanted to say, but luckily I didn’t say it out loud. I did however start yelling orders, “Turn the ship to port, head into those fighter planes…aircraft…airplanes… head toward them! Drop the sails! Propellers on full!” We couldn’t outrun them, but if we headed into them they would have less time to shoot at us before they passed us. Running would only give them a more vulnerable target.
The Ophelia started a steep turn, but there was another snap of cables. The deck dropped down another two feet askew, and the sudden pitch bounced two crewman overboard and knocked several others to the deck. This ship was already falling apart, and the fighters hadn’t even gotten to us yet.
“Get the cannon ready!” I yelled. “Tie down those posts, and bring in the mainsails!” This was not going to be easy, if it worked at all. Crewmen were running, and climbing ropes and yelling, and tossing ropes.
In the commotion, I grabbed at Tanner’s coat, and yelled over the now roaring wind, “Get to the map room. Tell the doctor to start his calculations. We need to get the hell out of here!”
“Those calculations typically take him a full day, and the doctor has been feeling very poorly. We need to make do without him,” Tanner declared. He also glanced over my shoulder, and I saw him make eye contact with Lilith, who then went below deck.
I refused to let my mind spend a second on that, and yelled, “He’ll die with the rest of us if he doesn’t pull this off! Go!” I yelled, and Tanner bolted below deck.
The Luftwaffe’s first pass was not a scouting run. This was the very heart of the war (brilliant timing, on my part) and we were in German airspace.
There were no warning shots. There was no signal for us to turn around. The first greeting we got was an unmerciful pelting from least six guns. The wood of the front railings burst like popcorn, spraying the crew with wood chips before filling them with lead. Many men were cut in half before the rest dove to the decks.
A dozen friends died before we had a chance to shoot back.
As the planes whipped past, our cannons erupted a response! The sides of the Ophelia were wreathed in smoke and flames, but not a single shot hit its mark. Shooting planes with swivel-mounted ships cannon was futile.
Ophelia was starting to veer off course now, so as soon as the last of the planes had passed, I ran forward to the wheel. The acting pilot was among the first to be killed as the planes passed, so I grabbed what was left of the wheel. There was a stinging in my cheeks, and I reached up and felt the blood and glass was still there from the stained-glass window I flew through just minutes before and I could feel the hot stickiness of blood running down my neck. Pulling on the Elevator Wheel brought us up to the height of the Zeppelins. They were flying directly toward us, parallel to one another and about one hundred feet apart.
Just before they reached us I turned off our starboard propeller. “Tell the gunners to hold their fire, and wait for my signal!” I yelled, and then threw the starboard propeller into reverse.
Ophelia began a quick pivot just as the Zeppelins started to pass us. When they were evenly on both sides, I slowly reversed the starboard propeller again, and we took a course matching theirs. The plan here was simple enough, if it worked. We could hold position
between them and this would make it very difficult for the fighter planes to get to us without hitting their own airships. This was not a course to victory. I was only stalling.
Ophelia was not a small craft, and the distance between us and the other airships was only thirty or so feet. Of course, it would be easy enough for them to alter course and leave us exposed, but this was the best I could come up with on such short notice.
But they didn’t alter course.
“Should we fire, Capt’n?” Mongrel asked, nervously making eye contact with the German pilot.
“For god sake, no!” answered Daniel, who understood the whole plan. “They are our cover. Just wait. Let’s see what they do.
They did nothing, they continued their course for a full three minutes, which seemed like an eternity. During this time some of the fighter planes had swung around, and took up a similar course just outside our little ménage’a trois.
Then the Luftwaffe made their move. Over the tops of the airships they came, the bombers, and we were sandwiched between these hulking giants! There was no escaping. Our only possible course was down, and that would not be an escape.
I panicked and threw the propellers into reverse, hoping to drop enough speed to avoid the bombs as they fell. Instantly there was a grating metal sound and the props pivoted sickeningly, and then froze at odd angles.
“Shit, shit, shit! Robert, what the hell have you done!” yelled Daniel, as he ran up to me. “This is not goo…” he started to say, but was interrupted by whistling sounds from overhead.
The bombs were away.
I heard a large explosion, and shockwaves rippled around the edges of our airbags like ripples in still water.
“FIRE!” I yelled as the second bomb hit. Ropes that held our massive gondola to the airbag were cascading around us, burning and smoking as they fell.
Our cannons fired, and the starboard Zeppelin burst into flames! In seconds the entire airbag was ignited. They didn’t expect that. It was the first time a ten pounder ever plugged into the side of a hydrogen filled zeppelin. Thankfully, we were not getting lift from hydrogen, or we would have been a fireball too!
But it was too late, more ropes snapped, and with a huge drop that sent our sailors falling overboard, the port side of our gondola broke free and fell. Everyone still on deck slid into the port railing, which now hung at the bottom of a fourty-five degree inclined deck. Cannon, crates, and casks slide on top or around them, breaking railings, and sailors. Half the deck crew plunged over the railing, and fell to their death.
Above us, the airbag was rolling up and away! After a second, however, the gondola stopped falling, and the airbag stopped climbing with a massive jerk. The gondola now hung from what was once the top of Ophelia’s airbag, but which was upside-down and burning on the bottom where the bombs had hit when it was upright. The gondola was tied only at one side, and dangled defeated at a severe forty five degree angle.
Then we heard more whistling.
I felt a massive rush of fear, of anxiety, and then my ears popped.
Instantly clouds formed around us, lightening flashed, and the sky was black. Wind hit us, and we started to swing wildly but something crashed into the side of the gondola.
Trees! Pine trees were tangled with the bottom of the ship, and were slowly rising as we dropped flaccid to the ground.
As soon as my feet touched the pine-needled floor, I ran to the dangling rigging and tied her off. Other sailors were doing the same, and others still were helping the injured to the ground, helping falling sailors up off the forest floor.
After things had been secured, Daniel and I climbed back on board the angled ship, and made our way below deck. There were unconscious and wounded sailors everywhere piled among the debris.
We made our way to the map room, and found Tanner, drenched in blood from a gash in the side of his head. He was laying on the floor holding the frail and unconscious Calgori.
Tears of guilt filed my eyes.
Tanner looked up. “Robert,” he said slowly, “I think I made a mistake. I think I should have left with…” but his voice trailed off.
I helped Daniel pick the doctor’s small body off the floor, and we did our best to gingerly move him from the cabin, and down the hall. He was disturbingly light, and frail feeling. We eventually got him to the ground, and laid him on several coats by a fire. In a few hours we had set up a makeshift camp on the forest floor. We had no idea where, or when, we were, but it was easy to see there were very few of us left.
All night we nursed the wounded, or slept. In the morning we buried the sailors that didn’t survive the night.
But that evening the doctor woke, and those remaining exhaled in relief.
It turns out Doctor Calgori had taken us fifty five years back from where we experienced our fantastic defeat. In his rush, the doctor had miscalculated and we re-emerged only a few feet from the ground. It was a dangerous error, but it also happened to save our lives. Fifty feet lower, and we would have emerged underground, but as luck had it, we emerged close enough to avoid falling to our deaths as the deflated and burning airbag finally gave up.
“I knew the likelihood of miscalculation was great, and typically I would have erred on the side of more altitude, not less, but considering the state our ship was in, we needed to get her down before she let go of us,” Calorgi said laboriously. “Still, I got the date right I think!”
Over the next few days, we laid more plans, and tried to figure out what had gone wrong. Those left who felt like talking were gathered around the fire: myself, Daniel, Calgori, Kristina. Tanner had nothing to say and stayed in his tent a few feet from the fire, and nobody had seen Lilith since that glance I caught on deck.
“But even given the fact that they had an air force,” I started to ask, “Why did we arrive broken? I mean, that was the worst jump we’ve made! It should have been the most stable, but the ship was practically destroyed before we arrived!”
Calgori drew a rasping breath. “That is because we were sabotaged. After the jump through time, as you all ran on deck, I was busy as a bee below deck trying to figure out what caused the damage. It would appear one of the chromatic orbs that helps us travel through time had been removed. It’s a mid-ship orb, not easily seen, so no one noticed it was missing. With this gone, our jump was off balance, and it caused an amazing amount of stress.” The doctor paused. “This orb was also one that could be used on its own, if wired correctly, and all the piping and wiring to it had been carefully removed as well.” The doctor paused “Someone who knew a lot about our ship seems to have taken it to use themselves.”
Daniel gave a sharp look to Kristina, and then to me. Tanner left his tent and headed off into the trees without a word.
“Wait, you’re saying one of our own crew took a part of our engine? Why would they do that? Wouldn’t they be risking their own lives?” I asked.
“Not if they left the ship before we activated the Chrononautilus,” Calgori answered.
Daniel spoke up, “If that’s the case, then whoever it is behind us, and we can…”
“Technically,” Calgori interrupted, “they are ahead of us by forty or so years”
“Fine, ahead of us. The question is, what do we do now?” Daniel continued.
“We have a multitude of options,” Calgori said. “I believe we are now very near the time when our mission started. In fact, less then ten years prior to when the Ophelia’s first journey through time. This is around the time I first started building the large scale Chrononautilus for the Royal Navy. Which means I think I can…HAH haha!” The doctor started chuckling.
I looked at him, questioning, and he answered, “When I first started my large scale constructions, spare parts started to become scarce. I had an account at several places where I ordered things like the glass orbs construction, or the rare gasses I used. But I regularly found the bill far higher then I expected, and often found certain items would inexplicably sell out before I could get my
hands on them.”
He sat up looking almost playfully amused, and took a long draft of tea before continuing “I was certain this was because some competing scientist was on the verge of discovering the same technique I was to use. It turns out I was only partially correct. I believe the scientist I was competing with was me!”
“I don’t understand,” Kristina stated.
“If I can get to a telegram office,” Calgori said “I can use my accounts the Navy has established for me to order replacement parts for the Ophelia! I can order from the same sources, I remember them well, and have them delivered here. Which explains why I will have trouble ordering them in my office in Whitby over the next few years! The other doctor I was competing with is myself, here and now!”
“Well, hell, if you can send a telegram to your supply houses, can you send a note to yourself that tells me not go to Germany?” I asked half-joking, not sure what his answer would be.
“I’m not sure I would deliver that to you, even if I did. You have done a lot of good for a lot of people with your wild antics through time, even if many of our crew lost their lives on this mission. I’m not sure it’d be a good idea to tamper with your rashness.” He paused, and his face went through a series of quick expressions, which always indicated he was in speedy thought. He continued then more quietly, as if to himself, “But perhaps a simplified application of the Chrononautilus Effect could be put into a device for sending notes. I will send myself a note to create a device called a…Chronofax? Ooo, that’s good. A Chronofax.” He said, savoring the word.
I said nothing. Now I was confused. Had Calgori just thought of inventing the device that had been in my family for years, or was he again showing signs of dementia, and had forgotten this very device has sat in my cabin this entire journey? Surly he’s seen it before? In fact, I assumed he had placed it there.
