Galleon

by CJ Williams

  She moved the cursor over and clicked the Show Comments button. What she read was chilling. “What is up with these people?” she observed, scrolling through the vicious remarks.

  “I know,” Grace said. “Grandpa is becoming famous, so that means he has anti-fans now.”

  “Are they all this violent?” Carol asked incredulously. “This is obscene.”

  Grace shrugged uncomfortably. “There are always stalkers, and every year there is an incident or two. But Grandpa told me not to use his real name when I set up his account, so no one knows who he…ewww. That’s a nasty remark. Scary people, huh?”

  Carol watched the video again. Thankfully, Gus’s name was not mentioned. She tried to think back to his previous posts but could not remember if he had used either of their names. He tended to ramble on so much you could never tell what might pop out of his mouth.

  These days he had a beard, and without his glasses he didn’t look at all like the man everyone used to know. But to be realistic, sooner or later someone would recognize his face and then their driveway would fill up with paparazzi and other weirdos. A little preventive action might be in order.

  “Pack your bags, Squid. We’re going into the city. At least until things calm down.”

  “Really? Cool!” Grace hobbled back to her bedroom.

  Carol called her secretary and booked the firm’s corporate suite in the Manchester Residence. Then she contacted their security officer and ordered a detail to keep tabs on her house.

  Finally, she spoke to Marc Hawley, her friend and trusted partner at the firm.

  “Hi, Marc.”

  “Good morning, Carol. Have you seen what Gus did?”

  “Yeah, just now. I’m taking Grace and moving to the apartment. Keep that under wraps.”

  “Smart move,” Hawley said. “I was about to call you and suggest some precautions.”

  “I agree. You know, I think this gives us a little more leverage with the Star Group. They can’t claim that Gus is the only one now. Did you recognize the German girl?”

  “I did,” Hawley said. “That is going to make a big difference for our side. As long as Gus doesn’t lose his temper with the girls, we’ll have public opinion behind us.”

  “Then make sure our strategy allows for Gus blowing up at her. You know what he’s like. And she looks like the kind that could push his buttons.”

  “Point taken,” Hawley said. “I just hope the media treat him fairly.”

  *.*.*.*

  The backdrop video screen on Studio 37 finished playing the highlights of Gus rescuing the two young women. Russell gave his co-host an ironic glance. “Well, the story just got a little bigger, didn’t it?”

  “I think so,” Cassie said. She glanced at Katelynn. “Hannah is the one you were talking about when you said you knew someone. I’m surprised you didn’t report it.”

  Katelynn replied with a sheepish expression. “I know. I’m in trouble at the office, but I don’t care. I met her parents when I was assigned to the Berlin desk. I watched Hannah grow up.”

  “Have you met Chancellor Schubert then?” Russell asked. “

  “Only once, and it was a long time ago. He was just a member of the Bundestag back then.”

  “I’m still impressed,” Cassie said with a smile. She faced the camera. “What we’re reporting is that we now know that Hannah, one of the two women Mr. X. rescued, is the granddaughter of the German Chancellor. Our Katie has been sitting on the news that Hannah was on board the Solar Princess, but we’re going to forgive her this time, as long as she promises no more secrets.”

  “That’s not the only thing we learned,” Russell said. “At least now have a name of sorts for Mr. X.”

  “What do you mean?” Cassie replied.

  “Grandfather,” Russell said. “That’s what Kyoko called him. Do you suppose they are related?”

  Cassie scoffed at Russell. “That’s because she’s Japanese. Young people in Japan call anyone with gray hair Grandfather. It’s their culture of respect for elders.”

  Russell turned to Katelynn. “What about that, Katie?” he asked. “What have your colleagues discovered about our blonde Japanese heroine?”

  “Well, Kyoto really is Japanese, as she said. I can’t explain her Scandinavian looks, but I expect we’ll find out soon. Her social media shows she is an actress and model with a respectable fan base in Japan. She had a couple of roles in Japanese historical films. Not married and no family that we know of. And she is a graduate of Sophia University in Tokyo; it’s a Catholic school. She has a degree in German studies.”

  “That would explain her facility for the language,” Russell said. “It looks like losing Rebecca was hard on them.”

  “I imagine so,” Katelynn said. “The three of them had been cooped up in that lifeboat for a month. They probably got to know each other pretty well.”

  “At least Grandfather got them out,” Cassie said. “He risked his life to save them.”

  “I wonder who he is?” Russell said. “His identity was a curiosity until now but how long will that last? A lot of people want to know.”

  Cassie nodded with a chuckle. “Well, he looks the part of a grandfather. It’s a shame that he’s getting so many hateful comments. I hope his family is taking precautions.”

  *.*.*.*

  Hannah and Kyoko watched open-mouthed as Gus terminated the subspace connection. “Nein!” Hannah cried out.

  “Grandfather, please!” Kyoko pleaded. “We need to call our families.”

  “Listen to me,” Gus said. “I promise that my wife will make sure they get the message.”

  The girls wanted to know why they couldn’t phone home, but then Kyoko suddenly stopped shivering and slumped down on the side bench, a clear indicator she was past the middle stage of hypothermia.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Gus said, cutting off the dispute. He hoisted Kyoko onto his back, piggy-back style, and left the lifeboat, heading toward his camp and ignoring Hannah’s complaints.

  Once at the hot springs, he put Kyoko down in the lean-to and wrapped one of his blankets around her shoulders. He mixed a cup of the hot spring water into a pouch of beef stew before going back for Hannah.

  He found Hannah at the top of the rise, collapsed in a small heap. “Told you so,” he muttered. “This cold is not something to mess with.”

  “Es ist kalt,” she said, her speech slurred. It’s cold.

  He hoisted her onto his back like a sack of potatoes. By the time he arrived at his small camp, Kyoko had made herself at home. She was wearing one of the sweatshirts from his backpack and had laid out his favorite flannel shirt for Hannah.

  Gus prepared another package of the warm stew for the latest addition to the island’s population.

  “Let me help,” Kyoko said, taking the pouch and feeding it to Hannah. “Thank you for saving us and taking us in.”

  Gus grunted, not sure how to respond. Moments later, after the quick meal, Kyoko positioned herself between Gus and Hannah and helped her friend change out of her pajamas into the overlarge shirt. Gus turned away, a little embarrassed by the forced intimacy. He scooted past the girls and got out of the lean-to.

  His shelter was the most basic of structures. Since his original effort, he had constructed a four-foot-high stone wall and then leaned a roof along the top that was made from laced branches. He’d covered it with parachute material to make it more or less watertight. A second stone wall blocked the northern end to keep out the chilly breeze. It was high enough for him to sit in and deep enough that he could stretch out. But it certainly wasn’t big enough for three people to live in for any length of time.

  He stood on the stone slab near the deep pool, his spa as he called it, and stared out into the lagoon. His world had just turned upside down. Yesterday he had been lonely but comfortable. He wasn’t lonely now, but having the two females around would be uncomfortable as hell. He needed to consider how this was going to work.

  He w
andered into the jungle to gather some fruit for dinner. For one thing, he would have to re-analyze food consumption. By adding the jungle fruit early on, he had established a schedule that would extend the rations out for two years, if not more. But with three mouths to feed, the lifeboat supplies would disappear quickly. It was time to start thinking about catching some of the fish that splashed in the shallows.

  “I hate fishing,” Gus grumbled at the trees. It was one of those hobbies he had never really gotten into.

  By the time he got back to the camp, Kyoko was moving around. She had straightened the area and returned all his belongings into the backpack. Hannah still looked a little worse for wear.

  “You brought fruit,” Kyoko said cheerfully. “I’ve never seen melons like these. It looks wonderful.”

  “It’s fair eating,” Gus said. “I wash it up over here.” He showed her his makeshift kitchen, a separate shallow pool where hot water bubbled up through the stone. Over the centuries it had created a modest bowl that served his needs for food preparation. “How’s Hannah doing?”

  “Better. She’ll be fine. This should help. She’s a vegetarian. I told her you gave her vegetable stew.”

  “That suits me,” Gus said. It meant more of the beef for him. It wasn’t great, but at least it had some meat in it.

  When he started to wash the fruit, Kyoko elbowed him aside. “Let me do that, Grandfather,” she said, taking over the chore. After a moment’s work, she put some clean, sliced fruit into a metal bowl, one of the items he had liberated from the galleon.

  By then the sun was well past its zenith. Gus gathered some firewood for the evening and added a few branches to the fire pit outside his lean-to.

  Hannah sat up dazedly and mumbled, “Diese Decke juckt.” This blanket is itchy.

  “What did she say?” Gus asked.

  Kyoko said, “She’s grateful you found this wonderful fruit.”

  Gus glared at Hannah for a long minute. Her tone was not one of gratitude, but he didn’t want to argue. “Yeah. I’m glad you like it. You’re welcome.”

  Hannah’s eyes flared, but Kyoko barked at her in German. The pair argued for a moment before Hannah subsided.

  “I’m sorry,” Kyoko said to Gus afterward. “I apologize that she is being difficult but she is scared, and so am I. Do you have any idea when the rescue ships will come?”

  Gus sighed. This was not a discussion he wanted to have. “Did Rebecca talk to you about not having a beacon?”

  “Yes,” Kyoko said. “She said no one would know where we were and our radio was down so we couldn’t call anyone. But your radio works.”

  “Sort of,” Gus said. “My beacon doesn’t work either. That means all I can do is transmit messages. Earth can receive what we send, but they can’t send back. And since the lifeboat doesn’t know where it is, we can’t relay our position. We have to accept that it may be awhile before anyone shows up.”

  “How long?” Kyoko asked with a worried expression.

  “I don’t know. It might be tomorrow, it might be a year from now. I was settling in for the long haul, and you need to think the same way. We’ve got food, shelter, and water. It’s not fancy, but we can survive.”

  “But why can’t we call home?” Kyoko asked. “We saw you do it earlier.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Gus explained patiently. “Like I said, I can’t make calls. I can only send one-way transmissions. Look, I understand you want to tell your family that you’re okay. We can do that right now if you want. I’ll show you.” He dug out the handiphone and set up the tripod.

  “This is how we call our family?” Kyoko asked.

  Gus sighed. He wasn’t getting through. “No. As I explained several times, all any of us can do is send a video message that goes straight to my wife. But I promise that she will forward it to your families right away. Now, you first, Kyoko. Think about what you want to say and tell me when you’re ready. You’ve each got three minutes.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Okay, start talking.” Gus pushed the record button.

  Kyoko started by bowing to the camera and then talking in Japanese. Tears streamed down her cheeks the entire time as she poured out her heart. Hannah spoke next and managed to maintain her composure. Gus prompted both girls to tell his wife their family’s phone numbers and then faced the handiphone camera himself. “So there you are, babe. I told the girls you would forward their messages. Love you.” He blew a kiss and stopped recording, initiating the auto-send by Nineteen.

  Rather than making the young women feel reassured, the call left them in the doldrums. Gus left them alone and kept busy with small chores. At one point, Kyoko asked about the old sailing ship across the island.

  “That’s a long story,” he explained. “Basically, it’s an abandoned ship from ancient times. But it has some good stuff on it we can use. That’s where these blankets came from. Tomorrow we’ll head over there and find you two some warm clothes.”

  When the sun disappeared, he returned to the lean-to. His habit was to go to sleep at sunset and rise at dawn. According to Nineteen, the planet had a twenty-one-and-a-half-hour day. Gus didn’t try to keep track of what time it was on Earth. Instead, he let his biorhythm adapt to the local environment.

  He stretched out in the lean-to, taking the side against the stone wall. His new roommates snuggled against each other like puppies, but it was crowded in the small space. The girls whispered to each other in German, and even during the night Hannah’s high voice penetrated his slumber.

  *.*.*.*

  Too soon, daylight crept into the lean-to. The girls were still asleep, so Gus took the opportunity for a quick soak in the spa. The tiny jets from the hot springs made him feel human again. He was dried off and dressed when their chatter indicated it was time for breakfast.

  The morning sun rekindled everyone’s spirits, and the meal of survival ration hash browns with eggs was filling. Afterward, he decided to send Carol a good morning video. It would cheer him up and give the girls a chance to send back a more positive message.

  He pulled out the handiphone and set the tripod on its daytime location atop the lean-to’s stone wall. Next, he connected the flexible solar panel and turned on the phone. The expected green LED link light did not illuminate. He rechecked the solar plug’s connector; it was okay. The battery was down somewhat more than usual but was still over half charged. The handiphone was working, it just couldn’t connect.

  “Damn thing!” Gus finally concluded. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said to the girls who were standing by, waiting for their turn. “I need to go back to Nineteen and have him check it out.”

  They followed him to the lifeboat where the AI was cheerful as ever. “Good morning,” it said when they entered.

  “Hi, Nineteen,” Gus said holding up the handiphone. “Go ahead and start recording. This thing won’t connect so I’d like you to record the message. Afterward, maybe you can tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Recording started,” Nineteen said. “However, the device is perfectly functional. The problem is that your account has been temporarily suspended pending payment of overage fees for subspace roaming. The balance of $23,647 New American Dollars is due and payable at this time.”

  Gus’s mind went blank for a moment. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “What overage fees? You said I got three free calls a day and normally I only make one or two.”

  “That is correct,” Nineteen agree. “However, last night Miss Schubert initiated a call of slightly over two hours beginning at 1:13 a.m. local.”

  “What?” Gus exclaimed. He turned to Hannah, his face turning red. “You did that?”

  Her guilty look said it all. She stammered, “I-I-Ich war nur…” I-I-I was just…

  Gus spun back to the camera. “Then charge it to my account. You have my passenger profile. I charged other things when I was on the Solar Princess.”

  “That is true,” Nineteen said. “However, that was beca
use your bank had a commercial presence on the Solar Princess and was able to verify payment for each transaction. I do not have that ability. Until the balance is paid your account must remain suspended.”

  “Send a message to my wife,” Gus argued. “She will take care of it.”

  “I can do so, but I still have no way to verify the transaction. As you know, we only have one-way communication. Your account must remain suspended until I can verify the overage charges are settled.”

  Gus turned pale. He stood still as a post while the impact of Nineteen’s conclusion soaked in. The two girls behind him whispered to each other fiercely, but it didn’t register. Slowly he turned to face Hannah.

  “Do you realize what you’ve done?” he growled threateningly as Hannah backed away. Gus wanted to wring her neck but settled for grabbing the front of her flannel shirt. “Get out,” he barked, shoving her toward the exit hatch.

  Hannah exited too hastily and tripped amongst the frost-covered boulders. She fell awkwardly face-first, crying out in pain. A wave rolled in and left her sputtering.

  Gus turned to unload on Kyoko, but she was seated at the pilot’s console speaking urgently. “Lifeboat Nineteen, Grandfather is entitled to a refund and additional compensation because of the disaster. All tickets stipulate that coverage. I order you to apply his refund to the overage fee.”

  The lifeboat was silent for several seconds as though considering her instruction. Then it said, “I have applied his fare for one adult to his account. The remaining balance is $18,298 New American Dollars.”

  “Apply my own fare,” Kyoko said quickly. “I was traveling first class, and I know that is more than enough to cover the balance. Do it now and reopen his subspace account.”

  “Acknowledged. The account is now cleared. You may resume sending subspace video messages.”

  “Thank God!” Gus said with a giant exhalation of relief. His knees suddenly went weak, and he sank onto one of the benches. His chest tightened with surprising emotion from almost losing contact with Carol. “You did good, kid,” he said to Kyoko. “I owe you big for that. Good thinking.”

  “Grandfather, I apologize most profusely for my friend. Please forgive her. I was not aware of the time limit, and I am sure she didn’t know either. I promise she will not make another such error.”