Deadly Apparition
Page 22
He placed both hands on the smooth surface of the oak table and stood, having made his decision. “Milords, I was taken two nights ago to the most amazing ship. It came from another world. Another time.”
He told them all of the ship he had toured. He took a quill and sheets of Howard’s writing paper and drew sketches as best he could of what he remembered. When he was done, the looks of disbelief were obvious on every face.
“A ship that travels under the sea at the speed of a galloping horse?” said Howard doubtfully.
“A ship that bombards the enemy with powerful explosives by air and water?” asked a skeptical Admiral Hawkins. “Drake, someone’s poisoned your rum. It has given you a fevered dream.”
“Show that drawing to the Spanish soldiers and see if they recognize it,” demanded Drake. “And I have a few oarsmen who will verify my story as well.” Drake sat back down with a sour expression and crossed his arms. “But you have a doubting nature so discount my story, and explain it to her Majesty as you wish.”
“Do you maintain this ship faced and defeated the Armada on its own?” asked Howard.
“Yes. The original plan was for a joint attack, but when our fleet became harbor locked, it had to face the Spanish fleet alone. But it was up to the task. This warship could stand against all of the Spanish empire, no mistake. Maybe even God himself.”
Howard thought of the implications. Drake could see the calculation behind his cold brown eyes. “Blasphemy aside, what proof have you of your story, Drake?”
“Only this,” said Drake. He laid a small black device the size of a cameo clasp on the table. “It allows me to talk to the ship’s commander. A man named Castillo.”
• • •
They watched the Armada all the following day from the control room, but there was not a lot of activity. The Armada did not look like a fleet that was going anywhere. There was not much happening at all. The only excitement during the day was when Kansas had to relocate because a French fisherman noticed Kansas’s photonics mast sticking out of the water and got curious about it.
Castillo had lunch with his senior staff which included Crystal McConnell and Susan Lambert. McConnell was engrossed in something. She had an ebook reader and was reading intently. He was curious. “What are you studying, Crystal?”
“I was trying to figure out how hard it would be to make musical instruments. It looks pretty hard!”
“Musical instruments?” Castillo tried to keep the surprise out of his voice.
“I polled the crew, but all I could find was a guitar and two harmonicas, which is a start, I guess.”
“Why are you studying music, Crystal? If I may ask.”
“Music is important. Music is therapy, it is emotional expression and much more,” replied McConnell. “A society is defined by their music. They use music every time they celebrate, every time they mourn, every time they worship.” Her look said, “Need I say more?”
“Really?” responded Castillo.
“Yes,” replied McConnell. “In the first few years of our society, we’ll have stereo players, but they’ll eventually fail and we’ll have to make our music the old fashioned way. I’m thinking ahead.”
Taylor cleared his throat. “Did you know Crystal is an accomplished pianist?”
“Now, why does that not surprise me?” chuckled Castillo.
“It’s true. She’s played in a world famous orchestra,” crowed Taylor.
“Edinburgh,” confirmed McConnell. “But that’s in the past, I’m afraid. The piano doesn’t exist here yet. I’ll never play again and that saddens me.”
Castillo had never thought about it before. Music is important. People turn to music for solace. Or when work is done to relax. Or sometimes during work, to make the work go easier. He was thankful for talented people like McConnell to think of these things.
When he went to the control room later, he found McConnell standing in the passageway talking to a crewman. “Crystal,” said Castillo. “Come to my stateroom. I have something I want you to see.”
McConnell nodded, but there were questions in her eyes. When she got to Castillo’s stateroom, he closed the door, sat down at his desk and opened his laptop. “You must swear never to reveal what I am about to show you.”
“Okay,” she said, but her eyebrows were arching in concern. What could this be?
Castillo went through some files on his laptop until he found the right one, then clicked on it. It began to play. It was a video:
I’ll have a blue Christmas without you
I’ll be so blue just thinking about you
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Won’t be the same dear, if you’re not here with me
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “Is that Mason?”
“Yes,” replied Castillo. “That is our very own Commander Taylor performing in a karaoke bar in Norfolk called the Rusty Anchor. When this hit Youtube, it went viral, and he picked up the nickname Elvis at command school.”
They both listened, saying nothing for a while. McConnell smiled and twisted a finger through her long chestnut locks.
That’s when those blue memories start callin’
You’ll be doin’ all right with your Christmas of white
But I’ll have a blue blue blue blue Christmas
The video was not high definition, but was of fairly high quality. Taylor really threw himself into it. He closed his eyes, cradled the microphone and caressed each note with a soulful expression, capturing the emotional baritone of Elvis Presley perfectly.
“He’s actually quite good!” said McConnell, surprised.
“I think so too,” said Castillo. “Anyway, I just wanted to share that with you since you’re interested in music. I thought you might want to know about the XO’s talents. I don’t think many crewmembers have seen it.”
“I’m glad you did! Could I have a copy of that file?”
“Sure, but remember,” said Castillo furtively. “It’s a secret.” Castillo copied the file to a flashdrive for her.
When she left his stateroom, she was as excited as a little girl with a new pony. Castillo felt good about that. He had given her something else she had in common with Taylor. Music. And he had no doubt she would tell people about it. She was bursting to tell someone. He chuckled.
• • •
That evening while Castillo sat in the control room, he checked in with admiral Drake.
“The Armada appears to be dead, admiral,” said Castillo. “Very quiet. Minimal crews. We’ll watch them awhile, but I don’t think they’re going to bother you again.”
“That’s good!” came admiral Drake’s voice through the overhead 1MC speakers. “Can I call on you if they threaten us again?”
“Sure, but your communicator is only good for a few more days, then it will die. But we’ll keep monitoring the Spanish in our travels. If anything happens, we’ll be back.” As he said it, he thought it was a pretty tall promise. How would they monitor world events with no electronic media?
“A grateful nation would like to thank you and your crew, commander.”
“No thanks necessary, admiral.”
“But we disagree. We are having a celebration and an award ceremony tomorrow. You and your crew will be guests of honor. Please come.”
“Well…I…”
“Come come! You’ve nothing better to do. Her Majesty wants to meet you.”
“Let me run it by my crew.”
“A vote?”
“Yes, a vote.”
“Fine! Take your vote,” he said disdainfully and disconnected.
Castillo turned to Lambert. “Feel like going to a party?”
Castillo polled the crew and got mixed results. Some were in favor of going to the celebration and meeting the queen, but many, including Taylor and Chief Brown, didn’t trust the English and wanted to get on with scouting locations for their new colony. In the end the ‘ayes’ won, and they made pr
eparations to attend the celebration.
Castillo had one U.S. Navy dress white class ‘A’ uniform, so he decided to wear that to the ceremony with campaign ribbons. Lambert and McConnell were scrambling. Lambert decided to wear a lemon pant suit she had packed accessorized with a red neck scarf and red pumps. She would have liked to wear something better to meet the queen of England, but it was the best she could do. McConnell opted for a white lacy silk blouse with a black suede jacket and white slacks and black patent leather pumps.
Many crew members opted out, not wishing to attend the ceremony. This made the decision easier for Castillo concerning who to leave behind to man the ship.
Castillo delivered the news to admiral Drake. “We’d be glad to attend your ceremony, admiral. But we would like a discreet place to make anchor so as to protect our ship. You understand. The fewer prying eyes, the better.”
“Good news, commander!” responded Drake. “And I give ear to your concerns. We have a safe place for your ship to make harbor. A protected cove south of the Thames where you’ll have good cover and few curious eyes.”
“Excellent, admiral! Looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Yes. Much returned, sir!”
Lieutenant Maria Guerrero found the cove on the English coast Drake described with some help from the radar and Admiral Drake. She plotted a course easy to follow for Castillo. He put the photonics cameras on three screens, and as they pulled into the cove, the control room crew observed their approach. They were surfaced and pulling into a tree-lined estuary.
“It’s shallow. We have less than 20 feet under our hull according to the fathometer,” said Unger.
There was a 200 foot dock to the right side of the boat with several small skiffs moored there. The crew also noticed a line of carriages and coaches lined up on the access road next to the dock.
“Those must be for us,” said Castillo.
“I still don’t like this,” said Taylor. “I don’t trust these people.”
“Your concern has been noted.”
“But you’re going anyway,” said Taylor.
“Well, Mase, I think I have to. They’re extending us a great honor. We’re to meet the queen. I can’t just say, ‘no thanks’“
Taylor said nothing. He only glowered blackly.
“But I’m going to wear a remote communicator, so we can stay in touch. If you don’t hear from me every fifteen minutes, take Kansas out into the Channel and await further orders. If you don’t hear from us in 24 hours, take off. Get these people to safety.”
“You want me to just take off and leave you and half the crew behind? Not likely.”
“Come on, Mase. If it comes to that, then we’ve been compromised, imprisoned or worse.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Castillo blew out an exasperated breath. “I think you’re worried for no reason. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“I’ve heard that before…sir.”
It was Castillo’s turn to say nothing.
Castillo, Lambert and the other crewmen emerged from the aft access hatch blinking in the bright spectacular persimmon sunset. The sun was throwing orange rays across rippled cloud bottoms just visible through the trees on the western shore.
The dock was lined with people having various expressions. Some were beaming. Some were agog with wide eyes and open mouths, obviously amazed by Kansas. The water in the estuary was so glassy, there were two images of everything, dock, skiffs, people…one rightside up and one upside down.
Kansas could not get close enough to the dock to moor because of the lack of depth, so it went to station keeping as close as possible and the skiffs met the boat and ferried crew to the dock in small groups.
Castillo and Lambert were in the first boat. Castillo picked out Admiral Drake in the crowd. “See the tall guy next to Drake with the black cape and plumed black hat?” said Castillo.
“Yes,” answered Lambert.
“I think that’s Admiral Howard. He’s the man in charge.”
“He looks like someone important.”
When the Kansas crew was all gathered on the dock, Drake approached them. “Is this all?” he asked, disappointment in his voice. There were about 45 people there.
“These are all the people we could spare, I’m afraid,” answered Castillo. “Someone has to man the ship.”
“I see,” said Drake. He introduced them to all the naval high command, Howard, Hawkins, Williams, Sheffield and another Howard. They all shook hands, the English officers noticeably taken aback by the presence of women in the group.
Howard bent at the waist, took Lambert’s hand in his and kissed it never taking his eyes from hers. “And what do you do, milady?”
“Test Ops,” replied Lambert smiling at him. From his blank expression she could tell she needed to expand on that. “I organize testing on new weapons and counter measures. Everything must be thoroughly tested before it goes out to the fleet.”
“Ah! Very good!” responded Howard smiling back at her.
Castillo thought the admiral’s heart might have fluttered slightly when he caught sight of Crystal McConnell’s flawless face. He had a hard time looking back at Castillo.
When they were all in carriages and the horses began clopping down the path, Castillo checked in, “Are you there, Mase?”
“I’m here.”
“So far, so good.”
“Noted!”
Castillo removed his earpiece, turned to Lambert and said, “Taylor sounds pissed.”
“Why?”
“He thinks we’re taking a risk. He doesn’t trust Drake and his buddies.”
They rolled through the English countryside on a rutted tree lined dirt road going up and down hills and passing grazing cattle bathed in twilight. Occasionally they’d see a barn or house set back off the road with flickering lantern light coming from within.
By the time they arrived at their destination, it was dark. Their destination was apparently a large gray stone Anglican church on a hill. It stood like an ancient impregnable castle keeping watch on the surrounding countryside. It had rows of tall gothic stained glass windows on every side and a tall stone tower topped with a cross. There was a cemetery behind it and two mammoth oak doors in front which were wide open.
Castillo checked in with Taylor. “We’ve stopped at a large church on a hill set back off the road a ways.”
“Okay. Stay on your toes, Don.”
“I will.”
Castillo adjusted his dress white shirt and removed his hat. Lambert straightened his shoulder boards.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“Quite handsome,” replied Lambert. “How about me?”
“Perfect,” said Castillo, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. That act seemed so familiar, so natural to him, it made him take pause and hold her gaze for a moment. Lambert looked away, blushing slightly.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Arm in arm they entered the large church, followed by the rest of the crew. Flickering lanterns along the walls caused their shadows to dance like ghosts and there were long rows of polished wooden pews on each side. The center aisle must have been three hundred feet long, terminating in a raised altar holding a large wooden cross, a baptismal and a polished wooden pulpit elevated about ten feet above the floor. Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls as they walked. It smelled slightly musty with hints of evergreen.
“Wow!” gasped Lambert, her voice echoing slightly. “Look at this place.” She and McConnell walked up to the pulpit and began studying the angels carved into the balustrade. “What beautiful work! I can’t wait to tell Norm. I wish I had a camera.” She stepped back and pretended to snap a picture. “I promised to bring him back a piece of cake too.”
“I don’t think there’s going to be any cake,” said McConnell looking around. “I don’t see any food.”
True, thought Castillo. What kind of celebration has no food? Something
didn’t seem right. That’s when he realized Drake was not with them. He decided to go out and see what was keeping him. He went out the doors and to the access road, but there was no one there, and the last of the carriages was pulling away.
When he looked the opposite way up the road, he saw distant lanterns swinging rhythmically. Several horsemen and a coach were approaching. Maybe this is Drake. The riders pulled up in front of the church and dismounted. The coach expelled Drake, Howard, Hawkins and Williams.
They walked up to Castillo and Admiral Howard studied the ribbons and insignia on his uniform. “And what navy is this again?” He reached out and touched Castillo’s black name badge.
“United States Navy,” said Castillo. “You’ve not heard of it because…”
THUNK! THUNK!
Castillo wheeled around to see that the enormous oak doors on the church had been slammed shut and guards had taken up station in front of each.
“The queen’s not coming is she?” said Castillo.
“No, she’s not,” said Drake without expression. He reached out and plucked the communicator from Castillo’s ear.
Chapter 17
“I return this talking device to you, commander,” said Drake. “And I instruct you what to say.”
Castillo said nothing. He only glared contemptuously at Drake.
“Come, come, commander. Be not angry. You declined land and titles offered you,” said Drake, smoothing his reddish brown beard with one hand. “What were we to do? You should have expected this.”
Castillo shook his head sadly and said, “I’m not angry. I’m disappointed, admiral.” He looked at each face before him and asked, “Is this how a grateful nation shows its gratitude?”
“This is something greater than any of us, commander,” said Howard, stepping forward and adjusting his blue doublet. “Give ear to this! Our country is involved in a great struggle and we need your ship, and we’re prepared to seize it.”
“I’m prepared to resist that, admiral. We never agreed to join the English Navy.”
Admiral Howard sighed tiredly and said, “Be reasonable, commander. Did you expect us to do naught after seeing what your ship could do?”