Galleon

by CJ Williams

  The video changed once again. It looked like a big movie production with sound effects and background music. One of the Acevedos crew was standing proudly near the bowsprit with the ocean splashing over the sides. A deep male voice provided narration in an alien tongue. It sounded like a promo for a blockbuster theatrical release.

  “I don’t think so,” Kyoko said, looking at Gus anxiously.

  “I agree,” he said with a pained expression. “Just the raw footage works for me.”

  “I like it,” Hannah said. “Make mine like that one!”

  *.*.*.*

  Ten months after his decision to proceed with the refit, Gus and Hannah stood next to the now-seaworthy ship and rolled their eyes in mock frustration.

  Before launching the vessel into the water, Kyoko had insisted that they hold a christening ceremony for Alyssa. Gus didn’t see the need and Hannah told her not to be sentimental. They’d been living on the boat for the better part of a year, but Kyoko was adamant.

  She’d even found a bottle-shaped gourd and filled it with some of Hannah’s distilled spirits. All three now stood under the bowsprit while Kyoko spoke to Alyssa, telling her how hard they’d worked to prepare the massive vessel to return to the sea. She urged the noble galleon to make one more voyage.

  Gus was actually moved by the scene—the tall Japanese girl speaking emotionally to the great ship, reaching out now and again to touch the prow gently. She read from the scriptures and said a prayer.

  When all the words were spoken, Kyoko took the bottle, and in a strong voice cried, “I re-christen you the Alyssa,” and smashed it against the hull. She stepped back from the prow with a triumphant smile, and Hannah applauded enthusiastically.

  *.*.*.*

  “Ready?” Gus asked. They had done everything possible to prepare for the launch.

  Kyoko held up crossed fingers in reply.

  Alyssa’s hull was as sound as he could make it. The wheel smoothly turned the massive tiller back and forth. The hold was filled with empty barrels, each meticulously anchored to the hull with braided ropes to protect them during the ship’s tossing once they put to sea.

  The new sails were carefully stowed on top of the yards, ready when needed. Hannah had become quite an expert on the rigging and working aloft.

  All the dried tree trunks were resting under Alyssa’s hull, set to carry the massive ship down the lava flow into the lagoon. Two dozen wheelbarrows, handmade from the remains of old barrels, were filled with a mud-and-sand slurry to be overturned to grease the path.

  Gus used a spool of rope from the hold to tie a set of guide cables from the ship up to the big rock on the beach. They routed from the bowsprit, up to the boulder, and back along Alyssa’s either side. Once the galleon started down the incline, they would keep her from drifting left or right. He wanted to be very methodical during the launch.

  They were ready. It was quite literally a sink-or-swim situation. If anything went wrong, there was no second chance.

  Gus couldn’t think of any reason to delay, so he took a torch from the fire pit and lit the kindling around the flattened planks upon which the galleon rested. Kyoko had poured jars of tree sap over the old wood to make them burn quickly.

  One by one, the wooden planks burned red and were crushed into glowing embers. The ship settled onto the new rollers. After each plank was reduced to coals, Gus used a long pole to knock away any remains that might act as an impediment. In no more than twenty minutes the planks were nothing but ash and the ship rested completely on the new rollers.

  Nothing.

  The Alyssa sat just as solid as the day they’d first seen her. Gus looked under the rails for any obstructions he might have missed. Everything was clear; the ship should be rolling down the ramp. He walked around the galleon, checking each roller in turn, but couldn’t find any reason why it wouldn’t move.

  “There just had to be something,” he muttered.

  “Maybe it needs a push to get started,” Kyoko suggested.

  “Sounds good to me,” he said.

  He hauled a leftover tree trunk to the bow and piled stones into a five-foot-high fulcrum. He maneuvered one end of the trunk against the bow. Standing at the other end, he pulled down on the tree but still, nothing happened. He put his arms around the trunk, and, with all his weight, pulled as hard as he could. It seemed like the ship might have budged just a fraction, or it could be that the trunk slipped against the hull. Hard to say.

  “Get ready to put down the slurry,” he hollered at the girls.

  Kyoko nodded agreeably, and Hannah gestured for him to hurry up.

  He climbed up on the trunk and shimmied out to the very end. At the point where his weight would exert the maximum force on his gigantic lever, he hiked himself into the air and landed with as much effort as possible.

  There was a great crack, and the giant ship started to move. Gus fell to the ground and scrambled back to his feet. Hannah grabbed the guide ropes but they began snapping with loud twangs, and the metal cables whizzed through the air.

  “Get back!” Gus screamed at her to get away from the whipping lines.

  Kyoko dumped her wheelbarrow and then ran behind the stern to reach those on the other side. Gus lost sight of her as the ship picked up speed, rolling over the spot she was headed for. With a noise like thunder, the galleon rumbled toward the water, crushing the wheelbarrows in its way. As it picked up speed, the wooden rollers fractured with loud cracks, and splinters flew into the air like missiles.

  Gus screamed at everyone to get clear but couldn’t spot either of the girls. The stern plowed into the water with locomotive-like force, and the poop deck almost submerged.

  The impact wave lifted the floating pier high into the air. It broke free of the bank and drifted toward the center of the lagoon. The galleon’s stern popped up like a cork amidst a shower of sea spray, and the ship wallowed on its side, heeling almost to the gunwale before settling into a rough rocking back and forth on the surface.

  Gus ran to the water’s edge, shocked at the swiftness of events. Kyoko crouched safely behind the upended boarding ramp and Hannah appeared at his side, jabbering in German, pointing at the ship as it floated away.

  Gus dove into the water, and with the cold biting at his strength, he reached the embedded ladder and clambered aboard. He snatched up one of the coiled ropes from the base of the mast and threw it toward Hannah.

  She splashed into the lagoon, grabbed the end, and ran to the post that held the pier moorings. She looped the rope several times around the piling and finished with a half hitch over the top. Alyssa drifted away, drawing the rope completely out of the water. The line twanged softly at the farthest point and then loosened as the ship came to a rest. Gus gave her a weak thumbs-up and Hannah sank to the ground.

  *.*.*.*

  It took an hour for Hannah and Kyoko to retrieve the floating dock and reinstall the ramp. Gus threw Hannah a second line, which she tied to one of the wooden cleats on the pier. With two lines now holding Alyssa in place, Gus jumped into the water and joined the girls. With all of them pulling together, they finally got Alyssa snugged up to the dock.

  Gus whooshed out a long breath of pent-up anxiety. “Not exactly according to plan, huh?”

  “Well. She’s in the water,” Kyoko said.

  “It’s not over yet. Follow me.” With a worried frown, he hurried back on board, and the girls followed him belowdecks.

  The gun deck was a mess. Everything was sopping wet, and all the equipment that was once stored neatly was scattered everywhere. Even items in the hold were soaked. Gus rushed to the electronics deck, but it was calm and dry. The ingots down in the ballast, however, were covered with water.

  “I never thought about a bilge pump,” Gus said. “We’ll have to bail all this out by hand.”

  “That is not necessary,” Alyssa’s omnipresent voice said. A whirring sound hummed from inside the hull. “Underwriters of the Gugje and Yoteu Masters Cup require all yachts w
ith a capacity of more than forty-nine souls to be capable of pumping water from every watertight compartment. The requirement is fully detailed in paragraph 520 subparagraph 182 of the insurance contract.”

  Gus looked at the girls in disbelief and then laughed in quiet gratitude. “Thank God for bureaucracy,” he said.

  Back on the main deck, the bilge water streamed from an opening beneath the anchor’s hawse-pipes. It was a welcome sight, but in the back of his mind, Gus wondered what else he did not know about the alien vessel.

  For the rest of the day they scrubbed and mopped. The unexpected flood had brought dirt out of a million hiding places, and every surface was covered with grime. By late afternoon the worst of it was gone. Hannah was most grateful that her water barrels had escaped damage.

  As evening approached, Kyoko prepared a quick meal, which everyone wolfed down wordlessly. When the sun finally disappeared below the crater rim, Alyssa was reasonably shipshape once again.

  Gus collapsed on his bed and fell asleep, ignoring the girls, who cleared the table. They departed for their own rooms, just as exhausted. In the middle of the night, Hannah woke him, complaining of cramps in her hands and forearms. She had strained every sinew trying to pull on the guide cables. He massaged her sore muscles, but she was not a grateful patient.

  *.*.*.*

  With Alyssa finally in her true element, other facets of her personality emerged. She listed ever so slightly to port, and although the air near the water was calmer than it had been on the rocky shore, her rigging hummed in the slightest breeze.

  Gus declared it was time for all of them to develop some basic nautical skills while actually afloat. Hannah proved much nimbler aloft than Gus could ever be, a fact that irritated him to no end. It wasn’t only a matter of wounded pride; he couldn’t get used to watching her scamper high above the decks and balancing on the footropes. He feared she was too careless not to fall.

  He had originally intended to manage the sails on his own while the girls took the helm, but that idea was put aside by mutual consent. In spite of her overly dramatic flair, Hannah was capable in the rigging. On the other hand, she didn’t have the strength to tighten the winches, so Gus assumed deck duties while Kyoko took over the wheel.

  Another thing Gus knew very well, and the girls were coming to learn, was that aboard a ship, whether in space or on the sea, maintenance never ended. New projects were a part of life. For Gus, the most immediate task was the gun ports. He’d been astounded by the amount of water that had rushed through in the split second the ship heeled over. If the ports weren’t reliably closed, a rogue wave that rolled them on their side could take them down in an instant. Some of the rope pulls and tie-downs were frayed, so he replaced them all. He double-checked the stern windows for security, as well. Amazingly, they had come through the dunking intact and somewhat cleaner than before.

  *.*.*.*

  “Please?” Kyoko asked sweetly.

  “No,” Gus said gruffly. They had finished dinner, and Gus was trying to enjoy a moment of peace and quiet in his cabin as the sun waned. But after clearing away the table and retreating to their own cabins, the girls reappeared together with mischief in their eyes.

  “Bitte, bitte?” Hannah urged. Pretty please?

  “No, Hannah. Forget it.”

  “C’mon,” Kyoko pleaded.

  He turned away, ignoring her.

  “Please, please, please, please,” she begged.

  “It’s not going to happen, so let it alone.”

  Hannah began to massage his shoulders.

  “You two knock this off,” he growled. “You may think this is funny, but it’s not. Now stop it.”

  “You have to,” Kyoko said.

  “Why?”

  “History! History demands it!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “It’s important,” Hannah said earnestly. “And it would mean so much to Kyoko.” Inexplicably her eyes filled with tears that spilled over and rolled down her cheeks.

  Gus cast a worried glance at the video screen. No doubt, this would get transmitted to Carol. He had no idea what she would think of the matter. Besides that, it was embarrassing. It might be best to just give in. “All right,” he said grumpily. “You win.”

  Later that night, the cabin’s lamp reflected eerie shadows off the wall as Hannah took the red-hot metal from the fire and plunged it into his skin. His scream of pain reverberated against the crater’s rim.

  The next morning, Gus looked in the mirror. Kyoko stood beside him and said, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it? You look just like a pirate.”

  He studied his reflection. He didn’t look at all like a pirate. More like a septuagenarian trying to get into a college frat party. His gray hair was braided, and they had trimmed his beard into a ridiculous goatee. And because fourteen months ago he had made the mistake of rescuing two adolescent females, he now had a single golden earring that glistened in the morning sun and ached abominably.

  *.*.*.*

  While Gus and Hannah tended to Alyssa, Kyoko prepared for their nutritional needs. During the previous year, she had harvested every breadfruit on the island. She used the gristmill on each crop to add to her supply of flour. Most of it she sealed for later use at sea in small bags made from parachute material.

  The entire population of blue coconuts had also fallen to her kitchen. She dried and roasted the coconut meat. The sweet water inside would not store well, no matter what she tried. Instead, she boiled it with sweet beans that had a sugary flavor and let it ferment. Hannah distilled the concoction in her still. Kyoko also dried bananas and fish by the bushel and stored everything in the hold.

  *.*.*.*

  Kyoko grew moody as the day of departure approached. She was having second thoughts about leaving. For more than a year, the island had been home; it held some measure of security. More so than an ancient boat on a sea none of them understood. Any feeling of adventure she had once anticipated was long gone. She couldn’t decide if their plan was desperate or just foolhardy. Surely if they waited and stayed safe, someone would rescue them.

  She walked alone across the island, looking at some of their memories; the remaining floor braces of their house, the first crude oven in the front yard where she had baked the Christmas cake. The walls of the first lean-to were collapsed now, and only by close examination could one tell it had ever existed. They’d spent weeks crammed into the little space, sleeping on a blanket in the freezing cold.

  Other memories weren’t as welcome. The innocent trickle of water flowing from the innocuous hole in the rocky wall that had become the steam jet that had devastated their home. She still had scars on her legs where the incredible heat had permanently seared her skin. Twice more since that day, steam had filled the lagoon.

  The island had only given them a reprieve on their precarious hold on life. For more, they had to move on. She wished for a sign that would allow them to stay, to live here safely and with peace of mind in the hope that rescue would inevitably come. But would she even recognize such an indicator if it came? Or would her fear of the unknown blind her spirit to the road ahead?

  She confided her doubts and fears to Grandfather that evening. “I just want a sign,” she said. “Can’t God give us just that much?”

  *.*.*.*

  Gus was worried about navigation, both in the near term and long term. The cardinal rule was to always start from a known point. He didn’t even know what planet he was on.

  “Alyssa, we need to talk about our course planning. I have zero ability in that regard so you have to manage that task. Is that going to work or is there some rule that says you can’t help?”

  “There are several rules regarding navigation assistance for lost competitors,” Alyssa said. “But it is accepted that such a situation occasionally happens. Advice on positioning will incur a points penalty for each instance.”

  Gus shook his head slowly. “Are you aware of how ridiculous that comment is? I think Nin
eteen has more computational awareness than you.”

  “That is not an accurate statement. I am many orders of magnitude more capable than your lifeboat. However, as long as we operate under competitive conditions, I am obliged to advise you on penalties.”

  “Fair enough. In that case, from this point forward take it as a given that I accept any deduction from my score if it means getting help. I don’t want to die because of some insane rule that no longer has meaning.”

  “Understood.”

  “So just to be clear, we can count on you to give us steering to the next point.”

  “I will give you course information, but you must still pilot the ship.”

  “What about afterward?” Gus asked. “You have indicated you can travel to other planets. I know for a fact you do not have the engines to do that.”

  “That is not the case, Captain Grandfather. Once we reach the next waypoint, you will be free to direct me to the planet of your choice. I promise I can get you there.”

  “How?”

  “Using the space drive integrated into this vessel.”

  Alyssa’s comment made no sense whatsoever. Gus was well versed in what it took for a starship to travel faster than light, massive reactors and engines that were many times the size of the galleon. But then again, some of the underlying Acevedos technology he had seen with his own eyes exceeded that on Earth.

  “Okay. We’ll let that pass for now. What about getting back to Earth? Can you get us there?”

  “I can take you to any planet you select, Captain Grandfather, but my own navigation system has no reference for your home planet. I may have it in my database as a different designation, but there is no way of confirming that at this time. It appears your civilization is a recent development. The most current updates to my navigation database occurred well before the history of your planet began.”

  Gus sighed. “Okay, first of all, enough with the Grandfather thing. I know the kids call me that, but it’s just Gus. Stick with that.”