Suddenly the captain’s eyes narrowed and his face took on the color red as he spoke through clenched teeth, “The person or spirits that have condemned me to sail forever seem to supply us whenever we are short of provisions. They’re never seen nor heard, but the larder is always full and the fog always surrounds us.”
Elizabeth clenched her hands together, stood and said, “You, sir, are the worst type of person that nature has created! Because you want to sail around the Cape of Good Hope, you have doomed your crew and passengers from ever seeing their family and friends, and, I might add, in the most deplorable conditions ever contrived by nature.”
A knock at his door stopped the conversation as he said, “Enter.”
A frail crewmember opened the door and stood with his cap in his hands as he reported, "Captain, de haven van New York is uit de haven."
The captain showed an unearthly grin that displayed broken and missing teeth as he dismissed the seaman and turned to his two visitors and said, “My man says that we are approaching the port of New York. Come up and watch as we try to dock there.”
They left the cabin and stood at the bow of the ship with the entire crew all peering through the thick fog at a small glow in the fog. As if to contradict the captain, the fog suddenly thinned out and the city of New York could be made out.
“That’s it!” shouted Elizabeth as she leaned against the rail. “We’re going to dock!”
Bill got a chill as the crew members standing around them all looked at her and for the first time he saw them grin and it was the same unearthly grin that the captain had on his ashen face. Then, slowly, the fog thickened up and the city disappeared in the dense gray fog. The crew turned and slowly went below leaving Bill and Elizabeth standing on the cold damp deck.
“It’s my fault,” sobbed Elizabeth into Bill’s chest.
He answered as he put his arms protectively around her, “No, it’s not your fault.” Bill patted her shoulders and added, “Let’s go below deck and we’ll come up with a plan.”
Suddenly voices came out of the fog and Chad, Gloria, James and Etta came strolling into view.
“Ahhh, following our advice, I see,” said Chad with a smile.
Gloria smiled and added, “Yes, walking the deck keeps one limber, does it not?”
Elizabeth said with a snarl, “By any chance did you see New York City?”
“Yes,” said James, “quite impressive, indeed.”
“I don’t understand,” said Bill, “Wouldn’t you like to get off this ship and visit it?”
“Or England?” added Elizabeth.
“Perhaps some day we shall do so,” said Gloria.
“If we docked, would you get off this ship?” Bill wanted to know.
The four looked at each other and after a moment Chad said, as he shrugged his shoulders, “Most probably not. Now I suggest we go below deck and get ready for dinner.”
Bill and Elizabeth followed them.
DATELINE: MARCH 21, 2070 PLACE: HISTORY TRACKING CENTER, NEW YORK CITY
Jerry Sullivan pushed back his curly brown hair from the front of his face and said as he addressed the rest of the history trackers, “It’s been eleven days and still we haven’t heard from Bill Scott. Quite unusual for him as he usually sends us a short note to let us know that all’s on track.”
Alexis raised her hand and said as she squinted her green eyes at the still hologram on the conference table, “Jerry, would you please show that hologram again?”
“Sure,” he answered as he pressed down on the start button. The hologram showed a young woman leaning on the railing of a steamship and her movements told all in the conference room that she was seasick and throwing up over the side of the ship. Another figure entered the hologram and walked quickly towards her.
“Elizabeth, get back from the railing,” he shouted.
She looked up at him as he approached and suddenly turned sharply and faced the rear of the ship as her body convulsed and she threw up again. He grabbed her, slipped in her vomit and they both went flying over the railing and into the dark sea.
“I’ve seen enough,” said Alexis, “I suggest we send someone back and stop Bill from going on that mission. It looked to me like fog was moving into the area.”
Jerry shrugged and said, “Of course that’s an option. However, do we stop Elizabeth from going aboard the ship too? I mean, she’ll just go on another and this could go on and on. The whole reason for the mission was because we found out that history made a change that was not for the better and we needed to fix the outcome and keep Nellie Bly’s name on everybody’s lips so she could go ahead and do the wonderful things she did.”
“What would you suggest, Jerry?” asked John Hyder.
“I suggest we send another drone back and we’ll have to make sure it has infrared capability in case that fog covers the search area. All in favor say aye.”
All were in favor and Jerry asked Alexis to get the location for the drone and then opened the door and motioned Ted to step in.
“Yes, Mr. Sullivan?” the slim dark haired young man asked.
“Ted we have a drone mission and we have to make sure the drone has infrared capability.” Alexis passed him a slip of paper and he went on as he handed it to Ted, “Here’s the latitude and longitude and date. When will we be able to see the hologram the drone sends back and how fast can we get a rescue drone to them?”
“I’ll need two hours to activate the drone and send it to the site and if we locate them, another two hours to get a rescue drone to them, sir.”
Jerry said to the group as the door closed behind Ted, “I say we take a break and return in two hours.”
Ted opened the door to the Hologram/Drone room. Besides the paperwork and Mac computers that had some of the most sophisticated programs available, there were six, wall-to-wall shelves that had over sixty-five different types of drones. Some flew, some crawled, some swam, some flew, crawled and swam and all had the capability to take a hologram of an assigned place or person. Many had infrared capability and all resembled some sort of a bird, crawling animal or butterfly.
Ted went right to one of the largest bird/bots he had: a Northern Gannet. The white giant seabird had a wingspan of six feet, a yellowish head and black tipped wings. Although the real bird can fly sixty miles an hour in a dive to get a fish below the surface of the water, the bird/bot designed and built by Ted and his group can fly along at four hundred and ten miles per hour.
He took it down from the top shelf and made a mental note to himself to store it on a lower shelf and save his back. Ted put it on a long flat table and checked it’s batteries, then the infrared lens and hologram camera. Satisfied, he entered the coordinates that the History Tracking Group had supplied him and took it to the Time Transfer Room.
“Hi, Ted,” said the elderly, gray haired man behind the only desk in the room.
“Hello Freddy. How was your vacation?”
“Great. Me and the wife took the grandkids to Florida for a week. Weather was great and we had a ball.” He tilted his head at the Northern Gannet and said, “Big bird you’ve got there. Sending it back?” he asked as he powered up a computer.
“Yep! October 20, 1889. 9:00 p.m.”
Fred typed the information into the computer and turned it to face Ted. “The usual, Ted, your name and Identification number.”
Ted placed the bird/bot on the desktop and grinned as Fred backed away from the real looking bird. He typed in his name and I.D. number, pressed the activate button and the door behind Fred’s desk opened noiselessly.
Fred handed him a small plastic bag and said, “Nose plugs, Ted. I’m told that they help with the pollution.”
“I’ll pass on them. I plan to be back here very soon,” he said as he gently picked up the drone and walked out the door.
DATELINE: OCTOBER 20, 1889 PLACE: HISTORY TRACKING CENTER, NEW YORK CITY
Ted walked down the stone stairs, guided by the gas lamps that illuminated the sta
irwell. Once at the bottom he took the key from around his neck, opened the security door and stepped out into the garden. He walked past the flowers, shrubs and trees that were growing in the garden for years and sat on the stone bench as he set up the bird/bot for launching. A sudden breeze carried the scent of horse waste into the garden overpowering the soft scent of the flowers.
Ted shook his head, Winter’s coming and as the flowers die off the smells of the city start to overpower whatever flowers are left. He placed the bird/bot on the flagstones and took a small plastic box out of his pocket, pressed a red button and watched as the bird stood on its legs and spread its wings before running a few yards and leaping into the air. It circled inside of the tall garden walls a few times before flying out of the garden. It headed towards the location that Ted had programmed it to go to. Ted smiled and suddenly felt out of breath. Okay, Ted O’Brian, he thought, get back to your own time and take a deep breath.
He took out his TFM and entered into it, March 21, 2070, pressed the activate button and went slowly back up the stairs.
DATELINE: MARCH 21, 2070 PLACE: HISTORY TRACKING CENTER, NEW YORK CITY
At the landing, the door to his time was still open and he went in.
“Looking a little red in the face, Ted,” quipped a grinning Fred.
“Naw, it’ll pass. Thanks for leaving the door open though.”
Fred smiled and winked as Ted went back to his Hologram/Drone room.
Later
Jerry opened the door on the first knock to see Ted standing there with a small silver cylinder in his hand. “Thank you, Ted.
Jerry quickly activated the hologram and watched as Bill Scott and Elizabeth Cochrane fell overboard. The scene below showed how Bill held her tight, fixed her dress to become a floating device by capturing air in the soaked material. It showed them tied together with a sash of her dress as they tread water. Then the fog rolled in as the drone circled overhead piercing the fog with its infrared lens.
Meanwhile, the drone’s program, satisfied that it had completed its mission, flew up to twenty-thousand feet and transmitted the information it had back to Ted as it was about to return home.
Boy, thought Ted as he monitored the same hologram on his laptop outside of the conference room, I’d like to bring this ‘bot back but I’ve got a feeling that the group would like me to keep a continuous surveillance on these two. Well, here goes, he depressed a second button and the bird/bot returned to one hundred feet and started to circle the couple in the water once again.
Back in the History Tracking conference room, the entire group sat at the table once again. They watched the hologram four times when Alexis said, “Well we know where they were over a week ago . . . treading water. Doesn’t anyone else agree with me that we should go back and tell Bill before the mission to watch his step, at least?”
Joseph Sergi raised his hand and said, as he pushed back the mop of black hair from in front of his eyes, “Not yet. At least that’s what I think. However, if we take too much time this hiccup in history will have a firm foothold and then history takes a different course.’
“But,” asked John Hyder, “they’re in the Atlantic Ocean and we have an obligation to . . . “
“Hold one, John,” said Joseph, “Yes we have an obligation to them, but remember what this History Tracking Group is all about: keeping history on the only path that we know will end as we know it. I agree that should all else fail, we send back a rescue bot or even stop Bill from going on the mission.”
John agreed with a nod and asked, “What’s the cut-off time, then?”
A heavy knock on the door got their attention as when they were in session nobody got past Ted or one of his assistants outside of the door. Jerry opened the door to see Ted with a hologram in his hand.
“Please excuse me, Mister Sullivan, but I kept my bot circling the two people in the water and it just sent me this.” He handed the hologram to Jerry who went quickly to the conference table and activated it. The whole group said at the same time: “A ship! They’re picked up by a ship.”
They all sat back and relaxed as Jerry zoomed in on the ship. It was old even way back then with patches in her dirty gray sails and from what they saw there were barnacles showing whenever she rolled slightly from side-to-side and green moss swayed with the roll. Her paint was long gone and the wooden hull seemed to have taken on a grayish color instead. He moved the curser to the ship’s stern and though the paint was almost gone, he could make out the name, Vliegende Nederlander and jotted it down.
“Can you have your ‘bot shadow the ship, Ted?”
“Yes, sir. I already sent it a new mission. It’ll transmit a new hologram, every hour unless you wish to change that.”
Jerry slapped him on his back as he said, “No, every hour is fine. You did a great job, Ted. Thanks tons.” He turned to the group and said, “You guys can go home and get some sleep. If something breaks, I’ll buzz you.”
“Hey Jerry,” said John Hyder as he gathered up some papers, “I have the next shift. Do you want me to take this mission over so you can get some sleep too?”
“Naw,” he answered with a shake of his head that threw his hair from side-to-side, “I’m okay with taking a nap on the couch if I need it.”
The group left and he immediately reclined on the large soft leather couch and, using the remote, lowered the lights.
Ted went back to the H/D room and opened the hologram link to show what the bot was seeing. He saw that, because of the unexpected added mission, the bot would not be able to make it home as the remaining power was being used to loiter rather than return home. He knew it was nothing more than a robot, but it was one of his favorites as it was the first bot he built for the club. It was slower than most and needed a lot of maintenance but it had come through some tough thunderstorms and hail to complete a mission and return home and now he had ordered it to stay in place until its batteries had depleted. He watched as the electronic message it was streaming back to the club started to break up and skip. Ten minutes later it entered the water in a nosedive just as a real Northern Gannet would do as it dove for a fish. Ted sat alone in the dark for a few moments.
Twenty minutes later Jerry was awakened by a tapping on the conference room door and he half rolled-half fell off of the couch as he went to the door.
“Mr. Sullivan,” said Ted when Jerry opened the conference room door, “I just received the latest hologram and . . . well, you need to see it.”
Pushing back his hair, Jerry said, “If it’s bad news, Ted, will you call the group . . . ?”
“I already have, sir. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Ted left the room as Jerry set up the hologram and thought as he activated it, I’d usually wait for the whole group but this could be bad and we need all the time we can get.
The bird/bot flew a lazy circle around the ship at a height of one hundred feet. Because an infrared lens penetrates the fog and sees the heat signature of the ship making it stand out clearly, it was easy to follow her. Suddenly the image started to shift as though a heavy wind disturbed the view and, knowing that even a hurricane wouldn’t disturb seeing the ship, Jerry felt a twinge of despair.
The door opened and the other four History Trackers entered, their faces showing their regret of not stopping the mission.
“What do you have, Jerry?” asked Joseph Sergi.
“The ship disappeared,” answered Jerry sitting down heavily after he activated the hologram.
“It disappears with Bill Scott and Elizabeth Cochrane aboard,” added Alexis Shuntly shaking her head.
Jerry looked at his notes and mumbled, Vliegende Nederlander. He looked up and said, Vliegende Nederlander, what’s that German?”
“Either German or Dutch,” added Alexis.
“Vliegende Nederlander?” asked Joseph Sergi as he punched the name into his laptop. In a moment his eyes went wide as his mouth dropped and he whispered, “My God, it’s the Flying Dutchman.”
<
br /> “The Flying Dutchman?” repeated MaryEllen Muldey as she ran her fingers nervously through her thick gray hair. Isn’t that the ghost ship that is doomed to sail the oceans forever?”
Now Jerry had his laptop open and after Googling, The Flying Dutchman, nodded and added, “The ship's captain is Hendrik van der Decken, who, in 1641, swore to round the Cape of Good Hope even if it took him till Doomsday, and nature cursed him to sail the waters of the world forever.”
“John Hyder stood and said, “Listen everyone, we must get to Bill and stop him from going aboard the Brooklyn.”
All nodded except Maryellen Muldey who stood and with a finger to her lips said, “Shhhh! Let me say something, please?”
The group sat back to listen as she took the floor.
“The Flying Dutchman has been around since 1641 according to my computer. As Jerry said, the captain was a vain man who threw caution to the wind and tried, against his crew member’s wishes, to sail around the treacherous waters of the Cape of Good Hope and because of that he was condemned to sail the oceans of the world forever. He has at least two people aboard who will have to sail with him forever unless we do something about it. Now, if we go back and stop Bill Scott from even boarding the Brooklyn, we lose the chance to find out all we can of this mystery.”
“But,” said John Hyder, “do we take the chance of losing Bill and that young woman just to find out more about this mystery?”
“Yes! We must! In case you forgot we are History Trackers and what better mystery is there in the world than the Flying Dutchman?”
Jerry stood a moment and asked with a shrug of his shoulders, “But, Alexis, how do we know that the story is true? I mean any ship could be named the Flying Dutchman.”
Joseph Sergi raised his hand and took the floor. He stood with his laptop open. “Hey, listen to this. I asked if there were any credible witnesses to seeing the Flying Dutchman and listen to what our computer came up with.” He traced his finger along the computer screen and read out loud.
Book 11 Page 9
