Galleon

by CJ Williams

  Hannah appeared at the hatchway. She was sopping wet, and blood trickled down the side of her face from an ugly cut on her temple.

  “Get out!” Gus shouted, and Hannah disappeared.

  Gus spoke to the console. “Nineteen, from this point Hannah is banned from sending messages. Do you understand?”

  “Acknowledged. Miss Schubert is no longer authorized to send video messages. What about Miss Yoshimoto?”

  “She’s okay. But do not ever allow either of us to exceed fifteen minutes. I don’t want any more mistakes. From now on, cut off any message at fifteen minutes.”

  “Subspace protocol adjusted.”

  Gus looked at Kyoko. “Tell your friend to find someplace else to live. She’s not welcome in my house.”

  Kyoko bit her lip but didn’t argue.

  Gus glanced at the handiphone and saw the LED link was once again illuminated. Not remembering that he had ordered Nineteen to start recording when he had earlier entered the lifeboat he said, “Nineteen, send this message. Hey honey, we had a mix-up here with the video so just a short one for today. Everything is fine. Love you.”

  The AI appended Gus’s personal note to his wife to the video message in progress and transmitted. “Message sent,” the AI said.

  *.*.*.*

  “Welcome back, everyone,” Russell said brightly from his Studio 37 anchor desk following the commercial. “What do you think, Cassie? Was that good news or bad?”

  The backdrop behind his shoulder was of a water-soaked Hannah, blood dripping down her face, standing in the lifeboat’s hatchway. In the foreground, an angry Gus was shouting at her with his teeth bared.

  Cassie shook her head. “If rescuers found them today, they would probably leave that mean old man on the island and only bring the girls home. Why did he have to get so angry?”

  “Kyoko came off as a peacemaker,” Russell pointed out. “Quick thinking on her part.”

  “I agree,” Cassie replied. “If she ever gives up acting, Japan would do well to make her an ambassador.”

  “I’m a little worried about Grandfather’s family,” Russell said. “If his identity is ever discovered, it could be a bad scene.” He turned to their guest for the opening segment. “With us again is Katelynn Santos. Katie, what’s your take on this?”

  “We shouldn’t be surprised when any of them overreacts,” Katelynn said. “Whether they admit it or not, they are under tremendous stress. So I agree that public reaction is something to worry about. Sooner or later we will know who Grandfather really is. At the moment YouTube won’t release his identity, but I don’t know how much longer they can hold to that position. Right now, Senator Radshall is introducing legislation to compel disclosure of his name.”

  Russell made a great to-do of shock about Katelynn’s announcement. “Senator Darren Radshall? The great privacy advocate? Why am I surprised? Politicians are not known to shy away from hypocrisy.”

  “Be that as it may,” Cassie said, “from a personal standpoint, I’m just glad they got the video back up. The story itself is fascinating. It’s not that often the public latches onto a topic like this.” She gave a stern look to the camera as though lecturing the viewing audience about fair treatment. “And honestly, if we do find out who he is, we want his family to be safe.”

  “That’s true,” Russell agreed. “This story is like the proverbial kid stuck in a well. The human-interest angle of their impossible situation is drawing in viewers from around the world.”

  “That’s what I mean,” Katelynn said. “To bring the public up to speed, we know a little more about Kyoko now. For one thing, she is an orphan.”

  “Tell us about that,” Russell said.

  “It turns out twenty-three years ago the Tokyo police found a deceased western woman with an infant next to her; no ID, no nothing. When she could not be identified, the child, only a few days old, was turned over to social services. She was raised in an orphanage as a ward of the state. Probably because she was perceived as a gaijin—a foreigner—she was never adopted.”

  “That’s a sympathy draw,” Russell drawled.

  “Don’t be mean,” Katelynn said. “My point is that this explains why Grandfather’s videos are getting so many views. First, you have the German Chancellor’s granddaughter; that’s about a hundred million people following their every move. Add in the population of Japan, and you’ve got a quarter of a billion people who are very interested in the story. This thing is going to spread. I just wonder if Grandfather will stay on the world’s bad boy list or if he can recover?”

  Cassie picked up the cue. “To answer that question, we have Mr. Solomon Lott with us this morning. Solomon, you’re the founder of the Grandfather League. I take it this is a relatively new organization?”

  Solomon was a big guy at the anchor desk, six feet two and easily over three hundred pounds. But his scarred face was jovial. He had the appearance of a blue-collar worker who enjoyed a beer or three at the local bar at the end of the day. He gave Cassie a big smile. “Hey, Cassie,” he boomed. “That’s right. Me and a few buddies started it as a hashtag after Grandfather’s early videos came out and people were trashing him in the comments. Give him a break, for crying out loud! He’s just an old guy doing his best in a crappy situation. Not his fault he’s stuck on that rock. Now these two girls show up and what’s he doing? He’s taking care of them! I think the guy is a hero. I would have been pissed too in his situation if some girl had cut off my communication back home. C’mon!”

  Cassie leaned away from the force of Solomon’s personality. She slowly straightened and asked skeptically, “And how many members do you have now?” she asked.

  “I checked just before we came on the show. As of this morning, we have over thirty million sign-ups. I think people underestimate Grandfather’s appeal.”

  “Thirty million?” Russell was surprised by the number. “I would have been surprised if it was even thirty thousand. That’s amazing. But how do you justify the violence? I think that’s what shocked people.”

  “What violence?” Solomon said dismissively with an expansive gesture. “He yelled at her for screwing up. Who wouldn’t? Not his fault she tripped over her own two feet. Besides, head wounds bleed like that all the time. You won’t even be able to see it in a day or two. And the point is, I bet that kid will be a lot more careful next time. It looks pretty cold on that island.”

  *.*.*.*

  For two nights Gus wouldn’t let Hannah in the lean-to. He got over being angry but wasn’t ready to give in. She needed to learn a lesson. The first morning he found her sleeping down by the spa. The ground there was always warm so she wouldn’t freeze to death.

  He spent the days avoiding both girls. Instead, he worked on his new shelter. Before they arrived, he had already started the groundwork on an island-style one-room hut.

  One thing he wanted was a covered front porch. At home, he loved sitting on the deck and enjoying the mountain landscape, but he’d always wanted a sea view. In this case, a view of the lagoon would have to do. The location he had chosen would give him that.

  The eastern crater rim rose about three hundred feet above sea level. His building site was near the base in front of a vertical rock face about twenty feet high. A hot spring bubbled out of the cliff wall, providing the option of running water.

  Being against the ridge, the air was a bit warmer and had protection from the wind. The edge of the jungle was only fifty yards away, and the space in between was already clear of trees. From his planned front porch, a rocky path led down to the spa, just a few hundred feet away.

  *.*.*.*

  Late in the afternoon on the third day of Hannah’s exile, Gus headed for the lifeboat. He wanted a little solitude, but it wasn’t to be; Kyoko followed silently from a discreet distance. When they arrived, she sat in the co-pilot’s seat, staying out of Gus’s way as he went through the storage bays.

  “Lifeboat Nineteen,” she said after a few minutes. “This is Kyoko Yos
himoto.”

  “Yes, Miss Yoshimoto. How may I serve you?”

  “Do you know where we are?”

  “I do not. I believe we are in the general vicinity of the Wheelers Bright solar system, but my stellar cartography systems are off-line.”

  “Then you acknowledge we are on an unknown planet,” Kyoko said it as a statement, not a question.

  “Yes,” Nineteen replied. “Without a doubt.”

  “What is the approximate value of a habitable, unexplored planet to Earth’s economy?”

  “That is difficult to estimate, but it would be in the hundreds of billions of dollars, possibly higher.”

  “Does the Star Group take an interest in such matters?”

  “Of course. Conceivably, they could claim a share of local resources.”

  “Then consider this,” Kyoko said. “The planet we are on has a breathable atmosphere and abundant oceans. This island alone would make an excellent staging facility to access the valuable resources you just mentioned. What would help the Star Group establish an appropriate value for their interest in this planet?”

  “They would require as much information as possible.”

  “Don’t the duties of an artificial intelligence under the auspices of Star Group include providing corporate headquarters with such data when it is available? Isn’t that accurate?”

  “You are correct,” Nineteen admitted.

  “Then why are you preventing Grandfather and myself from transmitting as much video evidence as possible about this world? Considering the circumstances of our presence on an unclaimed planet of enormous value, the cost of subspace communication is insignificant to sending back every bit of data we can. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I do agree,” Nineteen said. “And your point is valid. Accordingly, in the interests of Star Group Incorporated, I am removing all limits on transmitting documentary information via subspace. However, personal messages are still limited to three per day for a total of fifteen minutes.”

  Kyoko groaned in frustration.

  “Nice try,” Gus said, amused at her effort to circumvent the bureaucratic restrictions.

  Kyoko took a deep breath and continued. “Nineteen. Confirm that all lifeboat passengers are restricted to those limits.”

  “That is correct. In the case of several passengers, the time allotment must be shared.”

  “But Miss Schubert and I are not your passengers. We are passengers of Lifeboat Two Nine Six. As such, we are entitled to that same allotment. Since Two Nine Six was destroyed, you have the responsibility to provide that benefit.”

  After a moment of thinking, Nineteen agreed. “You and Miss Schubert are now collectively authorized up to three transmissions per day with a maximum of fifteen minutes.”

  “Finally!” Kyoko said with satisfaction.

  “Good job,” Gus said.

  *.*.*.*

  On the trek back to the campsite, Gus started feeling a little guilty about Hannah. It was true the kid hadn’t known there was a time limit. If Gus had mentioned that fact when he first showed them the handiphone, the entire incident might have been avoided. He should ease off a little. Tomorrow he would end her exile.

  After sunset, a cold drizzle started, accompanied by a breeze from the southwest.

  “Please, Grandfather,” Kyoko said when the first drops fell.

  “All right,” he growled. “Tell her she can come back.”

  The lean-to was decidedly more crowded, but Gus slept soundly, even though the girls pushed him against the wall.

  4 – Getting Acquainted

  “The time has come,” the Walrus said,

  “To talk of many things:

  Of shoes and ships and sealing wax,

  Of cabbages and kings,

  And why the sea is boiling hot,

  And whether pigs have wings.”

  (Lewis Carroll, “Through the Looking-Glass”)

  The next morning Gus took the girls to the galleon. They needed a suitable wardrobe for the harsh environment.

  Kyoko boarded the ship reluctantly, claiming it had to be full of alien ghosts. Hannah was the opposite. Her bad mood disappeared, and she wanted to know all about the vessel. The minute they got on board she pointed at various parts of the galleon and rattled off a string of, “Was ist das?” What’s that?

  Many of the terms Gus once knew had faded from his memory. He waved vaguely at the ship. “First of all, ropes are called lines. And all the lines are called the rigging. There are a lot of different terms, but I can’t remember much.”

  “Probieren Sie es aus,” Hannah said. Give it a try.

  “I’m interested too, Grandfather,” Kyoko said.

  “Well, okay. First, there is the standing rigging. See those thick ropes that run from the middle of the masts to that narrow ledge mounted on the side of the hull? Those are called shrouds and they hold up the masts. Those other thick lines that run fore and aft are called stays. You’ve probably heard the term forestay and backstay. It’s the same thing, they also help support the masts.”

  Kyoko, translating his commentary, was impressed. “You know a lot more than us. What else?”

  “All the other lines make up the running rigging. Mostly, that means they’re for managing the sails. The sails hang down from that big horizontal beam on the mast. That’s called a yard. Since it’s on the mainmast, it’s called the main yard. The one above it is the maintop yard.”

  “That makes sense,” Kyoko said.

  Tattered remains of old sails hung from the main yard. The maintop yard above it was similarly covered but the one above that, the topgallant yard, was bare.

  Gus continued. “See that platform above the main yard? That’s called the top. And the platform above that is the crow’s nest.”

  “Do the sailors work up there?” Kyoko asked.

  “I think we’ll put Hannah up there,” Gus replied dryly.

  Kyoko laughed out loud and translated his suggestion.

  Hannah snickered, and before Gus could tell her otherwise, she ran to the ratlines, the ropes tied between the shrouds that gave tall ships that well-known lattice appearance, and scampered up like she had been doing it all her life. She clambered onto the top and looked down.

  “Die Aussicht ist grossartig!” she shouted. The view is great.

  Gus barked at her angrily for being careless, but she ignored him. The thought appeared in the back of his mind that her talent in this regard might one day be put to good use.

  Kyoko, too, responded angrily to Hannah’s antics and shouted at her to come back down. Hannah made a face and climbed further up to the crow’s nest.

  “Leave her be,” Gus said. “It just eggs her on.” He continued his lecture, pointing out the round, barrel-like fixture on the rear section of the main deck. “That’s the capstan,” he explained, kneeling by the beams stowed along the aft bulkhead. “See these poles? These are handles that fit into the pigeonholes below the top of the capstan. Men push it around like a crank to raise the anchor.”

  Hannah rejoined them, and the girls jabbered to each other in German. Gus took them to the officers’ berths and opened the sea chests. They grabbed the clothing, handing various items back and forth to sort out who got what. Hannah found a greatcoat that fit her and Kyoko donned one of the uniform jackets.

  “Oh my God,” Kyoko said with a grin. “This is so warm. I’ve been freezing since we landed.”

  “What about the ghosts?” Gus teased her. “Won’t they get cold?”

  She scowled at him and kept going through the chest.

  *.*.*.*

  After they sorted out the sea chests, Gus called the girls to the navigation room.

  “It’s time for introductions,” he said. “Alyssa, this is my crew. Girls, say hello to Alyssa.”

  He told Alyssa to explain her background and the story about the so-called Masters Cup race. At first, the girls were excited just like he had been. They thought the ship was a solution to finding thei
r way home. And afterward they were just as disappointed to finally realize it was a false hope.

  Hannah continued to argue the point. Gus was surprised that the AI was able to communicate with her in German and asked about it.

  “Your lifeboat is fluent in several languages,” Alyssa replied. “I added all of them to my language database, which is already quite extensive.”

  Hannah rattled off another argument, and Kyoko added her reasoning in Japanese and again in English. She looked at Gus for support when the AI appeared unmoved.

  “I already tried,” Gus said. “But I’m happy for you guys to argue all you want. If you change her mind, I’d love nothing more than to have Alyssa take us to Earth. But failing that, I think she still has a lot to offer. You’ve been sleeping on her blankets and eating off her tableware. Once I get the hut built, we can furnish it with her furniture.”

  Hannah thought the idea of building a hut was stupid. She wanted to move right into the galleon.

  “Be my guest,” Gus said. “I had the same idea at first, but it’s pretty cold on this side of the island.”

  Although Hannah tried to talk her friend into living aboard, Kyoko brushed the suggestion aside. “I agree with Grandfather,” she said. “I’d rather be warm.”

  *.*.*.*

  Behind the navigation room, a narrow passageway led to the captain’s cabin. It spanned the entire stern, the back wall highlighted by the ancient mullioned windows, deep-set and slanting inward from top to bottom. The room was furnished with an oversized bunk and an ornately carved desk. A thick canvas curtain divided the sleeping chamber from a tiny wardroom with an unpretentious conference table. A small potbelly stove was positioned under the windows.

  Kyoko said, “When we sail away this should be your room.”

  Gus nodded but didn’t reply; he didn’t see that eventuality on the horizon.

  Hannah stared quizzically at the front wall of the cabin. “Was ist hinter dieser Mauer?” What’s behind this wall?