Time Ship (Book One): A Time Travel Romantic Adventure: The ideal Beach Book for reading on Holiday!

by IAN C. P. IRVINE

  A chorus of laughter went around the men, and instantly the tension of the moment was dissipated.

  "So, who is for the landing party then, my lads?"

  Every hand went up.

  "Mr Tanner," the Captain shouted loudly. "Bring us about and take us in closer to the shore, and keep your spyglass and your eyes trained. Find us a nice, quiet bay where we can sneak in, drop anchor, and put the men ashore. We are going a-hunting!"

  Almost immediately the deck became alive with activity, with Tanner and Silver each shouting their own orders and commanding the men to trim the sails and make preparations to land.

  In an instant the fear was abandoned and the pirates prepared for the shore raid, idleness and boredom being replaced with excitement and the anticipation of what was to come.

  "I envy you, Mr Tyler. I wish I were also going ashore with you. I reckon the adventure in de la Cruz has wetted my appetite for more sport."

  "So why do you not come, Captain McGregor. You could leave Mr Silver in charge of the ship."

  The Captain laughed.

  "Aha...I fear you have not been aboard long enough to sense the enmity that Mr Silver feels towards me. When I was elected and chosen as Captain by the men, Silver was likewise elected as quartermaster. But it is well known amongst the lads that Mr Silver would gladly see himself Captain of the Sea Dancer. Being mindful of this, I do not care to put too much temptation before the man, and myself lead a landing party on shore, leaving Mr Silver behind in charge of the richest treasure in Christendom and the fastest brig on the sea. I fear, that were I to do so, Mr Silver and our booty would be long gone even before the pinnace landed on the beach!"

  "Do you speak in jest?"

  "Sadly not, Mr Tyler. Sadly not. Which is why I am sending you with Mr Silver. To watch him, to learn from him, and to make sure he comes back."

  For a moment Tyler studied the Captain's face, and then the Captain winked and smiled, and they both laughed.

  "Aye, aye, Cap'n Rob!" Tyler replied, and then went below to gather up his cutlass and dirk, and make the other preparations necessary to go into battle.

  The wind had moderated, filling the sails with just enough wind to push them steadily but quickly along the coast, half a league offshore.

  Mr Tanner and Captain McGregor stood on the forecastle, studying the coast on their port side. Long sandy shores, and forests hugged the coastline, with occasional rocky outcrops or small cliffs. Occasionally they got a glimpse of what looked like rooftops poking above the trees, and here and there they saw more bright fires that burned constantly without flickering or going out. There were fewer of them here than in the port of Arecibo, but the sight of them still instilled fear within the hearts of the pirates. Not a man amongst the men had ever seen such a thing before.

  All the men were gathered on deck, the lucky few who had been chosen to go ashore standing staring over the port side, every eye trained on the coastline.

  The Sea Dancer carried two pinnaces, and both would be set ashore carrying around fifteen men each. As soon as they landed they would return and ferry over another thirty men, thus conveying a sizeable landing party of sixty men.

  Luckily some cloud now covered the sky, giving the men a respite from having to worry about the birds in the sky that regularly flew over with flashing lights on their beaks and their wings.

  As Mr Tanner looked for somewhere to land, Silver went amongst the men of the landing party, passing out a goblet of grog to each, thus giving them courage to go ashore and providing something medicinal to help them forget about the strange sights they had seen.

  The ship sailed on in silence, the air tense with both excitement and anticipation. It was almost an hour before Mr Tanner waved at the Captain and pointed at an outcrop of rock they were just passing.

  Captain Rob strained his eyes through his spyglass, and felt a surge of adrenaline pump through his veins as he saw the land beyond the outcrop receding rapidly behind it, curving around into a beautiful circular bay. It not only formed a wonderful, natural harbour, but it was shielded from view from everyone but those on a ship passing directly in front of the mouth of the bay.

  Scanning the beach, Captain Rob could make out a number of houses beyond the beach, hidden amongst the trees.

  "Mr Tanner," the Captain said quietly. "Take her in and drop anchor just inside the bay in the shelter of that rocky outcrop." The Captain said, pointing with the spyglass in his hand.

  "Mr Silver, as soon as the anchor is down, lower the boats, and take the first party ashore. Remember, when you hit the sand, get everyone to lie flat on the ground in the trees, and send the boats back for the others."

  Mr Silver nodded.

  "And wait for the others, Mr Silver. Don't go ahead without them. Now listen, and listen ye well. Our hold is full of more treasure than you or I will ever be able to count. And we want to keep it so. Your mission is to find food and water, and perhaps some grog, if ye can. Make sure your men don't start fighting and killing the locals for sport. Appraise the situation first when you go ashore and send out a few men to get the lie of the land and determine how many locals there are and where they be. And then decide what to do and make your plan. Above all, make sure you don't start any fights you can't win, and don't do anything that might escalate. Keep control of the lads and make sure there's no womanizing today, no matter how pretty and plentiful they may be. We only want food and water. Money and anything else, we have a plenty in our holds already. Do ye understand, Mr Silver? I want ye back and us all gone within the hour! Now get ye gone, and don't return empty handed."

  Captain McGregor held out an open hand towards Mr Silver to wish him luck, and for a moment Silver didn't know how to respond. Then he saw the friendly twinkle in the Captain's eyes, and the broad smile on his face, and for a brief second in time, Mr Silver felt a warmth within his chest and realised he was smiling back. He took the Captain's hand in his, shook it, and then turned to face the men assembled on the deck. He raised his cutlass aloft, and the men responded by silently lifting theirs and shaking them in the air.

  Turning into the bay and letting the wind out of the sails, the Sea Dancer came to rest and they dropped anchor.

  As quietly as they could they lowered the boats into the water, and the men climbed down the lines until each of the boats was full, and they started rowing for the shore.

  Silver sat in the bow of the first boat as it headed slowly in towards the sandy beach. Richard Tyler was sitting amidst the men, rowing with the others. The second boat was not far behind.

  Each of the men was armed with a cutlass, a loaded musket tucked into the sash around their waists, and a dirk strapped to their calves. They wore dark clothes, dark bandannas or hats, and their faces were blackened with grease and candle soot.

  Several of the larger men carried heavy wood and metal mallets, to help persuade closed doors to open before them.

  It was a calm evening. Gentle waves lapped the sand as the boats came into land, James Silver and the men jumping out and splashing through a few feet of water as they ran up onto the beach.

  As soon as the boats were empty and all the men were ashore, Silver waved them off and they turned around and headed back to collect the second wave.

  Following Silver's instructions the men ran quickly up the beach, seeking shelter and cover from the first line of coconut trees that lined the edge of the beach.

  Above them the moon had begun to poke through the thinning cloud, and white light began to flood the sand.

  As the men crossed the beach, they passed several rows of what looked like strangely shaped low lying bunks or beds, covered in canvas that just cleared the sand beneath.

  Two of the men who were staring at these strange objects then ran head on into a large net that was strung out between two large poles across the beach.

  In fright and alarm, the men pushed back from the net and lashed out at it with their cutlasses, slashing it to pieces.

  At the top
of the beach, just before the trees began, there was a small, square wooden building with a covered wooden veranda sheltering several tables and chairs. There was a door to the side of the building, locked and further secured with a padlock.

  Silver nodded to two of the men beside him, and they set to the door with the mallets, quickly knocking the padlock off. Unfortunately, the door still would not open. Silver looked closer and saw that in the wood of the door itself there was a tiny hole for what must be the smallest key in the world.

  Silver pointed at the door again, and the men with the mallets swung several times at the wooden paneling, smashing it to pieces.

  Silver stepped through the hole in the door.

  Inside, he found himself standing behind what was obviously a bar which served grog and beer. The hatch to the covered drinking area outside was closed, but behind him there were several shelves with row upon row of bottles and glasses.

  Silver turned and picked up the nearest bottle, and was about to pull the cork out when he discovered that it had none. Instead, there was a metal cover stuck to the top. He tried pulling it but it would not give. As he wrestled with it, trying harder to pull it off, he accidentally turned the cover around, and it moved. He turned it again, and again, and the cover swiveled and then actually came off.

  Silver lifted the metal cover up to his eyes and studied it. He couldn't help but wonder at it. It was an amazing piece of engineering. He put it back on the bottle, turned it around in the opposite direction, and the cover swiveled in the opposite direction, closing the opening to the bottle. He turned the bottle upside down and the liquid inside did not run out.

  One of the large men with the mallets who had also stepped inside, picked another bottle of one of the shelves and copied Silver, turning the metal cover until it came off in his hands. Silver and the man smiled at each other. Whatever the device was, it was amazing!

  The other man lifted his bottle up and stared at its contents. He put the open bottle against his lips, and lifted the bottle slowly, tasting the liquid slowly.

  "It's rum, Mister Silver!"

  Silver reached out, pulling the bottle out of the man's hands and tasting it for himself.

  Both men smiled at each other.

  "Ye gods, this is fine rum, if I do say so myself!" Silver exclaimed.

  For a second he stared at the rows of bottles on the shelves and then made a decision.

  "Mr Samson, quick as ye like, get two of the others. Go through everything here, and try to find any water or food. Carry whatever ye find down to where the boats will be. And make sure ye take a few bottles of this grog too...But mind ye don't sample it, do y'hear?"

  Silver stepped outside, passing the bottle of grog to the men under the trees and giving permission for each man to take a sip then pass the bottle on.

  He pointed to three of the men and told them to follow him, instructing the others to wait until he returned.

  Waving his men forwards, Silver ran quickly from tree to tree, scanning the ground in front as he went, bent double and keeping low.

  Almost immediately the forest thinned out and disappeared, and the three men found themselves running towards the edge of a large curved lagoon of water, the edges perfectly shaped and defined, the lagoon lined with marble, with several elegant curved metal ladders disappearing over the edge of the ground into the water beneath.

  Around the lagoon were many more of the low-lying beds that they had seen on the beach. In the middle of the lagoon there was a small, half-submerged tavern, with a curved row of stone seats arranged around it, on which people would sit and drink grog from the bar, whilst sitting in the water.

  James Silver and the others came abruptly to a halt on the edge of the lagoon, their jaws dropping with surprise. For a moment they stared at the dark blue, crystal clear water.

  One of the men bent down and dipped his hand into the water, drawing up a handful and tasting it, before spitting it out.

  "It's not salt-water. It tastes a little sour, but much better than the rancid water we have left in the barrels on our ship. If we can find some barrels, we can fill them and take some of this water back to the Sea Dancer!"

  "Good thinking, Mr Wright. Keep an eye out for them. If we can't find any, we must send a message back to the ship for the empty barrels to be sent ashore."

  "There..." one of the other two men said quietly, pointing to a path that led away from the lagoon. It was lit by strange fires on the end of small silver poles. Silver and the three pirates crept forward in a line, the man at the rear looking behind and around him, covering their flank with his cutlass at the ready, just as Cap'n McGregor had taught him.

  When they came to first of the fire poles, the men approached it cautiously. The object glowed brightly and lit the night around it, but there was no obvious flame.

  The men inched closer.

  Mr Wright bent slowly forward, his hand outstretched, his fingers ready to touch the fire-stick. Silver and the other two men crouched on the ground around it as Mr Wright advanced forward. The fire seemed to burn from inside a large, upturned, opaque glass jug, the silver pole stuck through its mouth at the bottom. The light coming from within was bright, but not so bright that it burned your eye to look at it. The line of fire-sticks cast a bright, but pleasant light on the path leading away from the lagoon.

  As his finger touched the glass jug surrounding the fire within, Mr Wright was surprised to find that the glass was not too hot to the touch, but warm like a baby's bath.

  Mr Wright turned to Silver and the others, and smiled.

  The others crept forward and touched the fire-stick too, fondling it gently with their hands, and peering at it closely with their faces.

  Deciding that such a fire-stick would be very useful to own and have, Mr Wright bent over and tried to pull the fire-stick up out of the ground. At first it wouldn't budge, so he gave it a quick kick with his studded boot at the base of the silver pole. The pole bent over, the fire-stick crashing onto the ground, the light going out and the surrounding glass jug breaking.

  The pirate bent forward, peering into the inside of the fire-stick through the broken glass, wondering where the fire had gone, and what it was that had been burning.

  Inside the glass jug there was another tiny little stick that sat at its very center.

  Mr Wright turned to look briefly at Mr Silver, then pushed his fingers, still wet from the water of the lagoon, into the center of the fire-stick to touch the little stick at its center.

  It was the last thing that Mr Wright ever did.

  As his fingers found contact with the center of the fire-stick, there was a bright blue flash, and Mr Wright was forcibly thrown backwards and pushed up into the air. He fell heavily on top of Mr Silver and the others, bowling them over like skittles in an alley.

  Silver screamed, as did the others, and quickly they fought to wrestle the heavy Wright off from on top of them.

  They scrambled out from underneath his dead weight and stepped back from him staring at the man on the ground below.

  A terrible stench of burning filled the air, and a wisp of smoke rose from Mr Wright's fingers, which were now blackened and charred.

  Silver bent forward over Mr Wright to get a closer look. His mouth was wide open, as were his eyes, which stared lifelessly at the sky above, the look on his face one of shock and incredible surprise.

  Mr Wright was as dead as dead could be.

  Silver and the other two men stumbled backwards away from the body. Before he could say a word, the other two men turned and ran back to the cover of the trees, and Silver followed close behind.

  Chapter 16

  Flight 5742

  Monday

  23.10 p.m.

  United Airlines flight 5742 circled above La Guardia airport in New York and prepared for its final descent.

  Derek Martin checked his watch, noting that they would be right on time. As he looked out of the window he marveled at the sight of New York, his favori
te city in the entire world, and once again felt relieved that he had made it back home tonight. He had come so close to missing his plane, and had only just made it with seconds to spare.

  After his walk along the Potomac River, he caught a cab over to George Town, and walked into Martin's Tavern just in time for his 6.30 p.m. reservation, made on his iPhone earlier that morning.

  He had first come to Martin's Tavern when he was a post-grad student, visiting Washington to give a speech about atmospheric physics. It was at the conference that he had met Kate Schwartz, although at that time her name had been Kate Cohen.

  She was a young and beautiful student studying physics at Penn State, fascinated by Atmospheric Physics, and after his speech, also fascinated by Derek.

  She had waited for him after his speech had ended, and approached with a few questions. The moment Derek had seen her, he had fallen in love.

  She was slightly taller than he was, had glossy, black hair, beautiful piercing blue eyes, was slim and had a fantastic smile.

  They say that you only ever truly fall in love once in your life. Derek believed that this was true. It had happened to him then and there, and never again.

  His had been the last speech of the day, and as the hall had emptied out, and the cleaners had come to prepare the venue for the next day's presentations, Derek and Kate had sat on some seats at the back of the hall and talked.

  He had answered all of her questions, and then asked a few of his own, starting with: "Would you like to continue this conversation over dinner?"

  The answer had been 'yes'.

  Leaving the hotel, they had walked and walked, eventually ending up in Georgetown, where Kate had suggested they go for a steak at Martin's Tavern. She wanted to show him the famous 'Rumble Seat', a booth for one person where President John F. Kennedy frequently used to sit and eat Sunday breakfast.