Deadly Apparition
Page 30
Lambert laughed. “Really?”
“Yes. Now we can sail into any port and pick up supplies.”
“Great!”
“But wait! It gets better! Do you know what we found in the hold?”
“What?” giggled Lambert.
“Silver, tobacco and rum! We can now afford to buy anything too!”
“Wow!”
“It’s called the Feu Infernal which means hellfire I’ve been told. We’ll have to rename it. And alter its appearance.”
“Let’s celebrate!”
“Why not? We have plenty of rum to celebrate with.”
The sunlight accented the faint laugh lines around her smiling mouth and the long lashes over her laughing blue eyes, and Castillo suddenly was hungry for another kiss. And he could read the unvoiced invitation in her face. So he took her in his arms. And this time they threw themselves into it, passionately embracing and lovingly touching and probing each other’s bodies and mouths.
Chapter 23
Old Bloomberg
September 23, 1912
Eliza Davenport turned her blue eyes toward the stormy skies. It did not look promising. Professor Goolong was supposed to be on this flight, but the weather looked bad. Not even the seabirds were flying. She felt the first drops of rain and decided to go into the terminal and wait with the others. She looked up at the tracking screen and saw the flight still inbound, about 50 miles out.
She reflected on Kami Goolong. She hadn’t seen her for over five years. She wondered if she still looked the same, jet black hair, caramel skin, long exquisite neck, a picture of tall elegance. She would be almost fifty now. Davenport envied her because of her grace and beauty, but the tables would be turned this time because of her find. Eliza would be famous for this find. She couldn’t wait to tell her.
Finally a loud voice blared from the speakers:
Arriving Flight 212 from New Kansas! Behind blast protection get everyone grace until the warn is terminated. Arriving Flight 212 from New Kansas! Behind blast protection get everyone grace until the warn is terminated.
People who had been outside quickly hurried into the terminal building and turned to look out the large glass windows. Davenport stared at the large sign in the distance surrounded by the agitated palm trees.
Welcome to Old Bloomberg – Where Lives History!
She watched as the white stubby winged craft approached. It was only a bright speck in the dark sky, but growing. As it got closer, she could see the silver arrow graphics and logo of Hough Transport. It looked like an egg with wings. It slowed, stopped and hovered over the landing sight while stilt like legs extended. Then it settled on them, blasting dust and debris for a hundreds of yards in all directions. This was one of the older Sebring sky skimmers. This route never got the shiny newer ones. Old Bloomberg just didn’t get a lot of high profile traffic. There were only two flights a day now and it was mostly tourists wanting to see the memorial or the historic reenactment.
She watched the ramp extend from the body of the skimmer and travelers disembark. She walked out onto the wet cement surface and into the light rain. The wind tugged at her coat. There she was! Goolong smiled and waved at her. She was just as beautiful as ever. Damn!
“Honor to you!” Davenport smiled and kissed her.
“Honor to you!” returned Goolong. “Look good you! Compliments you well this quiet life.”
“Tired are you?” asked Davenport, hoping she would say no.
“No,” replied Goolong. “Want I to see what drug you out me to this place for.”
“Hoped I did you would say that,” bubbled Davenport. “Come! Must see you this!”
They entered Davenport’s small red ground runner and traveled down the cement ribbon of road that trailed through the jungle. Goolong jumped every time a large pinnate leaf slapped at the windshield.
“Beautiful here it is!” exclaimed Goolong. “Spend I too much time in the city.”
Davenport frowned and cleared her throat thinking how to start. “Wondered have you who our forefathers were?”
“Knows every school child. Donald and Susan Castillo.”
“No. Mean I…Come from where did they?”
“Donald from Spain. Susan from England.”
“Speculation is that!”
Goolong studied her for a few seconds before speaking. “Found something you did.”
“I did! Something big!” Davenport’s freckles seemed to dance on her light brown skin in the filtered sunlight coming through the palms.
“Found you a reference to Toto!”
“Toto? Oh, from the inscription? No!” The inscription on Castillo’s headstone originally was, I don’t think we’re in Kansas any more, Toto. No one knows what it refers to. Some say it was Castillo’s last words. Kansas was his first ship, but no one knew who Toto was. She stopped the red runner at the edge of a clearing and pointed. “Opening we are the new monument next week.” There was a large white cement domed building standing all alone in the clearing. It had double glass doors in the front and a long walkway leading up to it. On its very peak was a bronze statue of Don Castillo dressed like a 16th century European with long cloak, doublet and large floppy hat. There were flowerbeds on both sides of the walkway and a carpet of bright red and yellow blooms spread from both sides of the building. There were many workers still planting small trees and shrubs.
“Beautiful! But must work they even in the rain?” asked Goolong.
“Have they much work still to do,” replied Davenport. They drove on.
Soon they arrived at Davenport’s office in a small two story complex resembling a cluster of stacked bird houses. Once inside it seemed to be a hive of activity with people and robots scurrying down hallways and flickering screens everywhere.
When finally they arrived, Davenport motioned to a chair for Goolong to take. Goolong dumped her purse and her carry bag and collapsed into a chair. She saw the picture of the smiling couple on Davenport’s desk and asked, “Is Chad well he?”
“Yes! Is at Magellan Base he.”
“The moon?”
“Yes. Leaves he for Drake Base in two days.”
“Mars? Is a space traveler he!”
“Yes. Received I a call two hours ago. Good he is. Misses me he does. And miss I him too.” Davenport’s blue eyes grew wet and she sniffed.
“So!” said Goolong crossing her long legs. “I am here why?”
“Wondered have you why this place…the South Pacific is prosperous? Is Castillo the most powerful nation on earth! Is New Kansas the most prosperous city on earth! Wondered have you why? Was here nothing, three hundred years ago. No technology! No resources! Came Castillos, Taylors, Bloomberg and all the others. Come from where did they?”
“Have found you what?” demanded Goolong eyebrows arched.
“Moved we the bodies of Donald and Susan from the mausoleum, so could work we on rebuilding it. For the new center.”
“Yes?” said Goolong transfixed. “And?”
“And found we a cement chamber under the floor. And found we in that chamber a sealed metal box. A big box. Very old.” She gestured with her hands about three feet apart. “And found we in that box the personal account of Donald Castillo.”
Goolong gasped.
“In the hand of Donald Castillo!”
Goolong gasped again. “Must see I!”
“Have sent I the artifacts to the university.”
Goolong blinked. “Which university?”
“East Castillo National. Have they the best lab.”
“But, Eliza. Am I a professor of history,” she said sadly.
“Yes,” said Davenport. “At Aultman. But are you my friend, so must call I you. Must see you this.”
“See…” Goolong’s communicator began to buzz in her ear. She took it out and threw it angrily against the wall. “See I what?” she shouted.
“This!” said Davenport. She reached behind her chair and pulled up a large three foot square
piece of cardboard against the wall and laid it flat on the desk. She slid clips from its edges and the cardboard sheet turned into two. She carefully lifted the top piece off to reveal something wrapped in tissue.
Goolong got up and walked around to look over her shoulder. “Is this the only piece did send I not to them. The preface it is. Has taken everyone an oath of secrecy and so must you.” Goolong reached out to touch it and Davenport grabbed her wrist. “Touch you must not. Very fragile it is. Very old.”
“Can read I?” She whispered reverently.
“Yes. But hard it is. Is made the paper of rice. Dim it is and although English, structed differently the sentences are. Not like speak we at all.”
Goolong began to read:
I’ve decided to detail our adventures here just in case someone wants to know what we went through. It’s been quite a ride, so far. Whoever reads this will understand why we’re here and some of the sacrifices we’ve made so far to get here.
Don Castillo, October 8, 1588
Dear Liz, Kelly and Robin,
I’m writing this journal in the form of letters to you although I know you’ll never read them. But each time I write, I’m reminded that you are alive somewhere and happy, I hope. It’s enough to know you’re all safe somewhere. Also, you’ve always been good listeners. You know. Easy to talk to. I can picture in my mind’s eye all of you gathered around the fireplace with cups of cocoa listening to me spin my tales. Thinking about it makes me smile. I’m going to finish this later, something’s in my eyes.
“Liz, Kelly and Robin are who?” asked Goolong.
“Explains he that later.”
Goolong rushed around and collected her purse and her carry bag and picked up her communicator laying on the floor. “Go I must!”
“Where?” asked Davenport.
“To the ECN lab, Eliza! Must read I the rest of this! Ground-breaking this is!”
“But have I the text here. Scanned the ECN lab it and sent me it by wire three days ago.”
“You…sent they…” Goolong stopped mid stride and fixed Davenport with a stare.
“Thought you called I you to see a scrap of paper?” Davenport held out a flat reader to Goolong.
“On here it is?” asked Goolong.
“It is,” replied Davenport. “‘Bloomberg41’ the unlock is.”
“Authenticated ECN the documents?”
“Not completely. Passed it the dating authentication. Three hundred years!”
Goolong dropped her purse and bag and settled into a chair holding the reader gingerly as if she were cradling the Holy Grail.
“Read I the account three times and afraid am I that believe it not will some. Fantastic it is! Like witchcraft will say some. The year 1912 this is! Believes no one that stuff in this day and age.”
She looked at Goolong, but Goolong was no longer listening to her, she was concentrating on the text:
Dear Liz, Kelly and Robin,
We have a new island home. On modern charts it’s called Sarno Island. It’s an island about 400 miles north of New Zealand in the South Pacific. It has coconuts and a small banana-like fruit that’s quite tasty and there’s an animal that looks like a large hedgehog which tastes like pork when it’s prepared by an expert chef like Jonesy.
We’ve built a small community here. We have about 100 small homes and a larger meeting lodge built of bamboo. Our population is about 157 now. We’ve grown beyond the original crew because we invited crew members from another ship to join us.
We also have a ship. A sailing ship, I mean. It’s a French galleon. Eric Tanaka is in charge of that. It’s original name was Feu Infernal and it belonged to pirates, but we renamed it New Adventure. Susan’s idea. I like it. It has an optimistic sound to it. It kind of conveys our positive attitude toward our challenges.
What I have to say to you guys now is difficult, but I don’t know any other way to say it than to just come right out with it. I’ve fallen in love with a woman named Susan Lambert. She’s an amazing woman. She was assigned to Kansas as the chief test conductor. She holds a PHD in computer science from Duke University and she’s a two time winner of the Virginia Old Dominion Triathlon. But that’s not why I love her. She has pretty blue eyes, sandy hair and a delicate little face like an angel, and she rescued me when I was abducted and tortured by a crazed Spaniard. But that’s not why I love her. I love her because she’s so sunny and never gives up. She finds the good in just about everything although she left loved ones behind too. She had a brother, sister, nieces and nephews. And she was close to her mother. I love her because her fluttery laugh comes so easily. I love her because she sings Niel Diamond when she works in her garden and dances when she thinks no one is watching. I love her because she gets a certain twinkle in her eye and wrinkles her nose when she’s about to tell the punch line to a joke. I love her mostly because she loves me despite my many flaws.
The Kinkaid boys, Kevin and Will, consider Susan their mom although they’re almost grown. They lost their real mom when they were young so Susan is the only mom they’ve ever known probably. They came with us from Scotland. A little island girl, Mapua, also considers Susan mom, I think. Susan is a good mom to the three of them. She makes sure they have clothes and get enough to eat, and she takes a personal interest in everything they do. She’s teaching Mapua to read English.
That’s all for now. I’ll write again next week.
Don Castillo, October 9, 1588
Goolong said, “Understand I not much of this.”
Davenport replied, “Understand you will much more during the second reading. Must read you it all.”
Goolong frowned and went to the next entry.
Dear Liz, Kelly and Robin,
We just held our first free election to elect a president and the settlement of Bloomberg has elected me, no surprise, as their first president. I’ve agreed to serve, but I’m going to step down after four years and give someone else a chance.
Everyone has tried to learn a skill or specialty to help us survive and grow as a community, and I just didn’t know what to do. It looks like, however, by default (that means no one else wants to do it) I am the camp administrator. That means I have to record all important transactions and contracts: marriages, deaths, births, bills of sale, etc. I came up with a fancy little certificate of marriage and another one for births and deaths and I printed a bunch on the ship’s printer. But we ran out of paper fast. Kansas did not carry much paper.
But on a trip to Kanta we found a merchant selling rice paper from the Phillipines. We bought all he had and told him we’d be back for more. We also found a merchant in Corchado who was selling squid ink, so we bought all he had of that too. Everyone is trying to copy important books and writing notes and papers on every subject of interest. We all feel we’re racing the clock. Our technology will fail some day and that will be the end of our knowledge base. Maria Guerrero wants to copy all the nautical charts we have. That’s like 1000 charts! Susan and I watched her do it. She displays a chart on her navigation plot screen, lays a sheet of paper over it, anchors it with clips, then carefully traces it, marking channels and depths and contours. It took her about 30 minutes to do one! It’s going to take a long time to copy them all. But she said she doesn’t really need them all, just the approaches to ports we’re likely to visit. The more I think about it, the more I like it. We have the most advanced precision navigational charts in the world. It would be shame to lose them. I assigned two people to help her.
I’m trying to learn the Machuan language. That’s the language of our Island here before we got here anyway. The natives call themselves Machua and the island is called Apanuchu. The language is like all Polynesian languages. The verb is first. Different than the English language. If I’m in a boat, I might say, “I sail the boat,” but they would say, “Sail I the boat.” Strange, huh? Like that little character in the Star Wars movies. I forget his name. They talk that way all over the South Pacific.
Tha
t’s all for now,
Don Castillo, October 16, 1588
Dear Liz, Kelly and Robin,
They want me to perform marriages because I’m the official administrator. But we have a young man named Olson who would like to start a church. At first I had mixed feelings about that because religion has created so many problems in the world. We’ve seen it at its worst! Why can’t this be a religion free zone? But there is no denying that it has done a lot of good too. It has provided a moral compass and hope in dark times and maybe we need that. Some deity to believe in and offer thanks to. We need to trust that a higher power will show us the way when we’ve lost the path.
I invited Olson, now known as the Reverend Matthew Olson to perform the ceremony. It was a double ceremony. Mason and Crystal stood on the specially built platform in the meeting hall next to Susan and me. It was a beautiful ceremony. The crew built an archway out of vines laced with big showy red and purple jungle orchids and Susan and Crystal were in white lace dresses and had white hibiscus blossoms in their hair. They were breathtaking. Mason and I wore our Navy dress white uniforms. (I was able to get most of the stains out of mine.) A young man named Douglas played his guitar and sang a Neil Diamond song Hello Again Hello. (That was requested by Susan.)
Susan and I decided to do some home improvements. We doubled the size of our little house so we could have the Kinkaids and Mapua under our roof. It only took about two weeks to do that.
The villagers, the Machua, have taken a real interest in the houses we’ve built. Our homes stand up better to the severe weather than theirs. So we’ve started building homes for them too. We’ve started cannibalizing some of the Tomahawk missiles just to get the wiring and the sheet metal.
That’s all for now,
Don Castillo, October 30, 1588
Dear Liz, Kelly and Robin,
I know it’s been awhile since I’ve written, but there’s been a lot going on.
Eric Tanaka is a damn genius! He looked at our captured cannons and rifles and said these can be greatly improved. He devised a way to rifle the barrel of a large cannon we acquired. He epoxied diamonds, we bought them in Papua, to a steel shaft from Kansas and created a cutting head he could use to force down the cannon’s muzzle over and over by hammering it with an ax to create rifling. He lost the cutting head once when it got jammed, but he got it back. He also created a resin-coated fabric that seals the space between the cannon ball and gun barrel better than anything currently available. Anyway, we have a gun now that will fire a 9 pound ball twice the distance of anything in Europe. Eric says he’s going to mount it on the bow of New Adventure. He’s designing a swivel mount that will attach to the deck and absorb the recoil of the big gun.