That’s all for now,
Don Castillo, November 23, 1590
Goolong stood up yawned and said, “Tired am I!”
Davenport took the reader and began jumping ahead. “Read this one. Very sad it is.”
Dear Liz, Kelly and Robin
Today we said good bye to Kansas. She was a good ship and served us well. She was home to us and protected us and stood silent guard over us. We celebrated on her, mourned, bonded and became a family while on her. We all felt better knowing she was near by, but now we must say good bye. We’d been putting this off, but it must be done.
She is but a hulk, an empty shell, stripped bare of anything useful. Even her weapons were dismantled. Her generators failed years ago. Her reactor is still good, but her propulsor will not turn anymore. Her seals are shot, as are her thrust bearings. Once the pride of the U.S. Navy, she can’t move under her own power anymore.
Kansas has been sitting on its barnacle encrusted bottom for many years in the shallows next to Bloomberg. The Machua and several crewmen camouflaged it with netting covered with palm fronds. From the water it looks just like part of the island.
We had a hard time floating it free, but once we had a good high tide and towed it out of its lagoon with our ships, we towed it to deep water and sent it to the bottom. We had a small ceremony first though. Reverend Olson said a prayer of thanks and we laid wreaths in the water and silently said thanks to her for protecting us through our incredible odyssey. I cried like a baby, and when I looked around, I was not alone. Susan’s eyes were awash. So was Crystal’s and Mason’s.
By unanimous decision of the council, we voted to rename our new city New Kansas. There is talk of naming our island nation Castillo, but I stopped that. I appreciate the honor, but it would be a lot to live up to. I’m not a god.
We are very prosperous here. We have a fleet of 42 ships now. France, Spain and England all leave us alone. In the past thirty years we’ve sent nine ships to the bottom during hostilities and let everyone know that we will not attack any other nation, but will respond with deadly force if fired upon. They still approach us with treaties but according to my son, Bud, they have different tenor than they used to. There is no more talk of protecting us. There is more give and take. Bud is two years into his term as president and is doing a fine job I think. Susan and I are very proud of him. And all our others too. We have five not counting the Kincaids and Mapua.
I turn 69 next week and I hope they don’t throw me any surprise parties. I’m old, and I can’t take a lot of shock. We’re all getting old and handing over the reins to the next generation.
Wally Anderson and his sons Toby and Charlie are producing the best carbon steel and aluminum alloys in the world. There are several manufacturing companies making tools and implements using these fine metals. The Tanaka kids are trying to build a steam engine. They have constructed a good boiler, but they still have some work to do.
Remember that guy who was trying to fly, Sebring? He has a series of gliders he’s made, using aluminum frames, and some of them have small chemical engines which will keep them in the air for up to thirty minutes!
Our school system is really expanding. The Machua people are very smart and excellent educators. They have taken over our education system and are doing a terrific job. They teach science, nature, social studies, math and of course English.
That’s all for now,
Don Castillo, April 14, 1620
Davenport took the reader and began jumping ahead. “Read you this one too. Another sad one. And really, The beginning it is.”
Goolong gave her a questioning look. She took the reader and began reading.
Dear Liz, Kelly and Robin,
A piece of me died last week. I am alone now and lost, and I don’t think I can go on. I put my Susan in the ground. She was 84.
My world has gone dark and cold! Because my life has been sucked away. The most tender loving generous woman I have ever known is gone. I’m not good for anything now. And I was never as good a person as Susan. She was an angel.
I am 89 and in pain every day! My joints are stiff and hurt, and it is all I can do to get out of bed in the mornings. I am useless now. If there is a God, why did he let me live so long? Why did he take my angel?
At least she did not leave this world alone. When she passed, she was surrounded by family. Our five children, who are not really children now, and their spouses and children and our five great grandchildren. All the Kincaids and all the Tanakas were at her side too.
At the funeral there were about 1000+ people in attendance, although we tried to keep it private. It was mostly the old Kansas crew and all their offspring. I hadn’t seen some of them in years and I was surprised by how old they all had gotten. They all offered condolences and tried to comfort me, but I could take no comfort in it. I am in a desolate place.
A few hours ago Anna, Bud and Thomas came over to see how I’m doing. Not well, I guess. They were concerned. I’ve been sleeping twenty hours a day. During my waking hours I sit and stare out the window at Susan’s beautiful flower garden. She loved that garden so much. I still expect to see her there, happily digging and planting seedlings.
Anna asked when was the last time I ate. I didn’t know so she made me some shepherd’s stew, but I couldn’t eat it. It made me feel a little better just to see Anna. She has Susan’s bright blue eyes and sandy hair. The same petite nose. She’s taller than Susan and her cheeks are chubbier. That’s my fault, I guess.
I told her my life was over too. There was nothing left for me to do. It would rather be with Susan. This troubled the three of them greatly.
Anna asked to see what I was writing so I showed her. She took all my pages away and read them and when she returned, she said, “Father, you’re not finished with your story. What about the beginning? You never explained how you and mom got here. You still have much more to do here.”
She’s absolutely right! It seems kind of backwards to me, but I must now tell the beginning.
I was born Donald William Castillo to Hector Miguel and Delores Lucinda Castillo on April 20, 1977 in Smithtown, Long Island…
• • •
Davenport curled up and went to sleep on her desk using her carry bag as a pillow. She didn’t know how long she had slept when Goolong shook her.
“Finished I the account,” said Goolong yawning. “And right you are. Believe this no one will. Sounds this like witchcraft.”
“Played my son Norm Bloomberg in the Founder’s Day pageant,” said Davenport. “Would like he not the truth. Thinks he Bloomberg a great warrior who fell in battle.”
“If truth this is,” cautioned Goolong.
“Think you it is not?” asked Davenport.
“Think I…” began Goolong, searching for words, “Would be better it if stayed this truth only with us. Have we 300 million people all over the South Pacific must think we about. The entire nation of Castillo. Would throw this into turmoil many.”
“But explains this the defeat of the Spanish Armada. Did believe you a sea monster it was? And about the artifacts found we here? Ancient advanced alloys and weapons out-of-place?”
Goolong blew out a long breath through pursed lips. “Descended from the Taylors am I,” said Goolong quietly. “Think you my ancestors came from another world? Another dimension? Will say they belong we not here. Belonged we here never.” She studied Davenport intently.
“Know I not,” she said softly. She could see fame slipping away. If Goolong chose not to endorse this find, it would be a blow to her.
Goolong picked up her purse and carry bag and asked, “Could keep I this?” She held up the reader.
“Yes.”
“Grace! Have to go I. Late it is but still can I catch a Sebring back to New Kansas. And grace for showing you this to me. Will call I you.” Davenport watched her walk out and down the sidewalk into the cool night air. She bent her tall frame into the doorway of the little vehicle and folded her long leg
s into the runner and then looked toward Davenport in the doorway.
Davenport blinked tears from her blue eyes. “But descended from Castillos am I,” she said to nobody. “And the truth want I the world to know.” She shrugged on her brown jacket, picked up the keys to the old runner and trudged down the stairs and into the cool night.
Notes From the Author
I must admit I’ve been out of submarines for a long time and do not know a lot about the Virginia class boats, but I read everything I could find on them and when I couldn’t get answers, I made some leaps in logic. I’m sure I’ve drawn some incorrect conclusions and someone will be sure to tell me where.
Sarno Island does not really exist. It’s based loosely on Tahiti. The Machua people are based on several different Polynesian cultures.
Lord Admiral Howard was a wonderful man by all accounts. He organized the English Navy, led them against the Spanish Armada and later he created a charity for impoverished and homeless seamen. But I needed a villain for my story, so I chose him because he was convenient. To anyone who takes issue with this, I say this is an alternate dimension. Things are different here! This Lord Howard is different!
The 2008 Helium accident at the Hadron Collider actually happened. But hyperdensification did not occur and is still pretty much the stuff of speculation. Some scientists think it can be done, but controlling it is another matter.
Other Books by G. Ernest Smith
Assassin Awaken
Look Down
Bone Maze
About the Author
G. Ernest Smith is a retired Space Shuttle launch team member who lives near Cape Canaveral, Florida with his wife, Mary Beth. He has a son, Brandon, and a daughter, Mona, a brother, Jeff, and a sister, Gwen, who all live in California.
He enjoys sailing, Harley Davidsons, fishing, flying, writing, Miatas and eating (not necessarily in that order).
He is a graduate of Rollins College and the Florida Institute of Technology and holds a Masters degree in Computer Science.
https://www.gernestsmith.com
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