Galleon

by CJ Williams

  “Chief, please call all hands.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Rogers smiled and his chest swelled. Gus recognized the expression. It came from just standing on Alyssa’s deck with the infinity of the space on all sides. It gave a man an appreciation of his place in God’s creation. Not that he was inconsequential, but that he was at least a thread in the incredible tapestry that made up the universe.

  The chief stepped to the quarterdeck railing, and in a voice that carried easily over the buzz of activity on the waist, called to one of the men. “Boson, call all hands on deck.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The man pulled an elongated whistle from his uniform and sounded the call. Men came running from all over the ship; down from the forecastle and up from the hold. Lieutenant Esther Sanders and Hannah came from the navigation room. They stood next to Gus and his companions. In seconds, a virtual sea of faces stared at those on the quarterdeck.

  During yesterday’s selection of crewmembers, Captain Copeland made it clear this was no vacation and wasn’t likely to be a cakewalk. In spite of the promised hardship, Copeland had to sort through almost three thousand volunteers for Gus’s new crew.

  The chief took a paper from his breast pocket and began to read. “Attention to orders. By the order of Captain Vince Copeland of the United States Starship New Orleans the following persons…” He methodically read from a list.

  “Brown.”

  “Here, sir.”

  “Coleman.”

  “Here.”

  “Fisher.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  He read the entire crew list and then continued, “…are temporarily appointed as crew aboard the Acevedos ship Alyssa and will obey the orders of her officers and Captain Alphonsus Gustavus Cartwright. Captain Cartwright is charged to deliver said crew safely to Armstrong Station. Said crew will be discharged and return to the New Orleans. Any violation of standard shipboard discipline will be dealt with severely.”

  Chief Rogers frowned at the men and women on the deck and said threateningly, “You know who I am.” He turned to Gus. “Sir, the orders have been read. All present and accounted for.”

  Gus looked blankly at the chief. He should give an order, but he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Jackson helped him out. “The crew is ready to make sail, sir.”

  “Do I give that command?” Gus asked, feeling a bit silly.

  “Absolutely. The chief will take it after that.”

  “Please make sail, Mr. Rogers.”

  “Aye, sir!”

  Gus had gone over the requirements with the chief yesterday, who then made the assignments for individual crew members. The men had an inkling of what their duties were if not how to accomplish them. Gus hated to think what would happen next, but regardless, felt this would be a lot of fun.

  Rogers faced the men below. “Away aloft!” he shouted. Gus felt an unaccountable pride as men and women scampered up the ratlines to the yards.

  This was how Alyssa was meant to be. This was the Alyssa of many years ago when she competed against similar vessels in the heralded Masters Cup race.

  The atmosphere was alive and bustling, the deck filled with goods and equipment. Chief Rogers moved down to the main deck, yelling at the crew on both masts, cursing at them, swearing at them, and laughing out loud for the sheer love of this new adventure in space.

  Those aloft responded eagerly to the commands, excitement on their faces while they strained to comply with their duties, untying the sails and holding them for the next command. Finally, twenty pairs of eyes looked expectantly at the chief.

  “Loose sails!” Rogers bellowed, and all of Alyssa’s canvas came down at once. The deck crew ran back and forth, struggling with the braces, tightly winching the sheets, letting out the clew lines and buntlines, all with much more vigor than Gus had ever managed. Kyoko and Esther gripped the wheel. Gus signaled Hannah to make her way to the star sail at the bow. He wanted her to oversee that crucial task.

  Finally, they were ready, and the star sail flew up. Alyssa fired the star drive and the light atop the mizzenmast illuminated. The sails billowed out bigger and tighter than Gus ever recalled. The ship picked up speed, and the swirling phosphorescent flurry of firefly lights appeared in their wake.

  Standing beside Gus on the quarterdeck, Lieutenant Jackson gazed around the heavens with an expression of awe. “I am rarely envious of other men,” he said. “But that you have lived with this view for so many months just boggles my mind.”

  Gus nodded. “It is beautiful. But you should have seen it when we skirted the edge of the galactic center. That was a sight I’ll never forget.”

  “I saw the video but can’t even imagine what that must have looked like from this deck,” Jackson agreed quietly.

  “You will someday. Anyway, time for the rounds. As you can see we’re picking up speed pretty quickly. We’ll be out of the solar system in a few minutes. This is when I give everything a once over. Looks as though our helm is in good hands.”

  Kyoko and Esther chatted like sisters. Chief Rogers ruled the main deck, directing the men in response to Alyssa’s verbal orders to tighten this brace or loosen that tack. On the foremast, above the fore topgallant yard, a couple of sailors were rigging a cluster of antennas.

  Jackson explained, “Once that’s done we’ll have full communications. The avionics guys are waiting for your approval to proceed down below.”

  At the bow, Hannah was explaining the star drive to two young men who appeared more interested in the lecturer than what she had to say.

  Gus told Hannah, “Once you finish here, head down to the data center. A couple of techs want to upgrade our comm. You know how I am about people messing with our electronics. Can you take care of that?”

  “Yes sir,” she replied smartly.

  Gus suddenly realized that he trusted her absolutely to manage the operation safely. They had come a long way since he caught her experimenting on Nineteen’s avionics.

  Gus peeked into the galley. It was almost unrecognizable. Supplies of real food, not cases of freeze-dried, filled every nook and cranny. Kyoko’s old countertop now featured a substantial electric griddle on one end and a good-sized oven on the other. Power cables for the appliances snaked out onto the starboard deck where a generator hummed silently. Culinary Specialist Brown was furiously mixing something in an oversized aluminum bowl.

  Down on the gun deck, Gus inspected the men’s mess area forward of the foremast. They had bolted tables and benches to the floor.

  Jackson said, “I promise those aren’t permanent. Captain Copeland was explicit that we not damage the ship. They just…”

  “I know what they are,” Gus said. The glue bolts were good as a weld when installed with proper chain plates. And when twisted counterclockwise, the bolts released a solvent that dissolved the adhesive, leaving the surface undamaged. Cartwright Industries made the best product on the market, and Gus was glad to see the letters CI stamped into the bolt heads.

  Electric lights were strung up all along the gun deck. Long orange extension cords were fastened to the spars and ran the length of the ship to the generator above. Gus was certain that the umpires of the Gugje and Yoteu Masters Cup would be scandalized.

  Nearer the stern, several men had already set upright the fallen cannon’s carriage. They stood around the barrel as though gathering courage.

  “That thing has to weigh over five thousand pounds,” Gus said. “You think they can lift it?”

  “I wouldn’t bet against them.”

  “Let’s not get any hernias on our first day,” Gus suggested. “Alyssa, inform the crew and then reduce gravity on the gun deck to one-sixth normal for fifteen seconds.”

  “Acknowledged. Standby.” Her voice sounded throughout the ship. “Warning. Gravity shift in three, two, one.”

  “Now!” Gus told the men.

  They lifted the cannon easily and set it in its cradle, cheering their success as normal gravity ret
urned. “Can we shoot it now?” one of the men asked. All the rest excitedly echoed the request.

  Rogers appeared and shouted at the men to get back to work and not bother the captain with such entreaties.

  Gus pointed at the broken ringbolt on the bulwark and said to Rogers, “The cannons are out of commission unless you can repair that and vouch for the rest. That’s what put Kyoko in the hospital.”

  “Understood, sir,” Rogers replied. “We’ll get that done.”

  The chief petty officer sounded confident, and Gus looked forward to seeing what they came up with.

  In the warrant officers’ berths, thus far never used during their life aboard, a pile of duffle bags was stacked on each bunk. Further back toward the stern, the infirmary now looked like a legitimate medical facility.

  Jackson introduced him to a young woman. “Captain, this is our hospital corpsman, Doc Luciana Finch. Doc, say hello to the Captain.” Gus recognized her as the medic that had first come aboard during their initial encounter.

  She flashed him a wide smile. “Sir, I’m such a fan of everything you’ve done.”

  “Thanks,” Gus said. “Just trying to get home.”

  Down in the hold, Gus discovered what had happened to all the boxes the men had brought aboard. Much of it turned out to be food. “What’s with all this?” Gus asked.

  Jackson shrugged it off. “You said about thirty days. I told the quartermaster sixty. With your luck, I just wanted to be safe.”

  In the ship’s magazine, Gus emphasized the necessity for safety. “That’s real gunpowder,” he said. “And it is just as deadly as when it was first made. If you want your guys to fire the big guns, you have to assign a powder monkey. He will be the only person allowed in here.”

  Jackson agreed it was a wise policy. “What’s up with the sabers?” he asked when Gus opened the cabinet.

  “Don’t call them that around Kyoko,” Gus warned. “After we found them she decided this was a Japanese galleon. She calls them katana swords and I can promise you she knows how to use them.”

  “I know,” Jackson said. “She was awesome in The Samurai’s Handmaiden.”

  “You’ve seen that?”

  “Of course. The more popular you guys got, the more it took off. They say it’s a cult classic now. Kyoko’s been in half a dozen films.”

  “The hell you say.”

  “You should check it out. You’d be impressed.”

  Gus doubted it. The last movie he’d seen was twenty years ago, and it had left him unimpressed. Something with loud explosions and people constantly shooting at other people.

  “Maybe,” Gus said. “Let’s keep moving.”

  In the now empty sail locker, one of the men had erected a metal table. Jackson explained this would be their communications center. “Once everything is up, we can talk to anyone.” Cables snaked down from the foremast above and connected with a multitude of black boxes. Others disappeared through the deck, presumably down to the data center below.

  “I’m happy for you to set this up,” Gus said. “But anything that touches her electronics has to be approved by Hannah first.”

  Jackson was a bit skeptical. “Does she even understand this stuff?”

  “She has an EE degree,” Gus replied dryly. “And she knows Alyssa inside and out. It’s her call.”

  Hannah was already in the data center deck lecturing the avionics crew about testing and more testing before they could touch Alyssa’s rack space. She explained the plan to Gus. “Probably another day to finish. This will bypass Nineteen and his fifteen-minute restriction. Everyone on board will have two-way subspace back home. Unlimited.”

  *.*.*.*

  All over the ship, crewmen installed equipment, made repairs, and cleaned. In fact, they cleaned everything. Rogers inspected every rope, bracket, halyard, brace, plank, rail, and person. If he saw something that didn’t shine, he found a crewman and set them to work. Gus started to feel a little guilty for the ship’s grubby condition. He said as much to Jackson.

  Jackson was surprised by the comment. “Seriously, sir? If I can speak frankly?”

  “Spit it out.”

  “Captain, I’m not sure you realize just how historic an achievement you and the ladies have pulled off. I mean, this will literally go down in history. It’s not that the Alyssa herself is the most incredible alien artifact ever discovered. It’s what you three did under the conditions you were in.”

  “Carol told me something similar last night. She said we’re a phenomenon. I don’t get it. People all over the planet work a lot harder than we have.”

  “That’s not the point. It’s the adventure. Most people never get more than a few hundred miles from their home. But you guys literally traveled farther than any person on Earth. And the work you did, the stuff that got you dirty like the ballast. Every woman I know said you were sexy when you were lifting out all those ingots. You ever look at the videos that came back?”

  “In a word, no,” Gus said. “All I did was send messages to Carol. I thought they were private.”

  Jackson laughed. “Captain, my wife says you have the soul of a poet and you don’t even know it. Maybe that’s why you became such a sex symbol.”

  “Let’s just forget I ever brought it up.”

  “Yes, sir. But I hope you realize that no one on this ship could be more impressed with what you three have done; especially anyone who knows anything about ships.”

  “I didn’t gather you were married. How long?”

  “Esther and I got married three years ago.”

  “Lieutenant Sanders?”

  “Yeah. That’s why we’re bunking together. You only have two officer’s berths, and Hannah said she’d room with Kyoko.”

  “I didn’t realize that,” Gus mumbled. He had been a bit suspicious of Jackson.

  Jackson laughed. “I know. You thought I was stalking Kyoko. Esther thought it was cute that you were actually behaving like her grandfather. Sorry,” he said when Gus winced at the description. “I probably wasn’t supposed to say that.”

  “I don’t pick up much about other people,” Gus admitted. It was a fact that Carol had pointed out more than once.

  *.*.*.*

  Gus stood on the quarterdeck, appreciating all the effort being put into Alyssa. Some of her brightwork was actually reflecting starlight. Even traces of underlying paint were showing up.

  The splashes of color reminded Gus of a task he’d never gotten around to. He showed Jackson the signal flag locker against the back rail of the poop deck.

  “Alyssa told me what they all stand for, but they’re kind of useless out here,” Gus explained. “I thought about having Kyoko put together a US flag, but she would only make a Japanese one.”

  “I can’t believe I forgot this,” Jackson said. “I was supposed to do it first thing.” He looked down at the waist. “Fisher!”

  “Aye, sir,” a voice echoed from the forecastle, and a young man hurried up. Jackson introduced him to Gus as the ship’s purser and then scolded the sailor.

  “Fisher, you failed to bring me the colors, man. Where are they?”

  Fisher cringed at his forgetfulness and dashed off, taking the stairs in one jump. In less than a minute, he was back, charging up the steps, carrying a long cardboard tube, looking at Jackson expectantly.

  Jackson nodded in Gus’s direction. “If the Captain approves.”

  Fisher pulled out the contents and held it up for Gus’s inspection.

  “It’s perfect, Mr. Fisher,” Gus approved. “Please tend to it immediately.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Fisher charged back down the deck with his flag. Chief Rogers saw him dashing by and grabbed him by the arm. He too had forgotten this important task. “Boson! Pipe all hands.”

  Five minutes later, Rogers’s voice boomed, “Present arms!” and a bugle sounded from the forecastle. From the quarterdeck, Gus watched the Stars and Stripes rise to the top of the mainmast, flying majestically in
the star drive’s brilliant light.

  Kyoko bumped her shoulder against Gus. “I’m glad you finally got your flag, Grandfather.” Every man on deck looked taller and prouder when they went back to work.

  *.*.*.*

  The Alyssa sprouted new additions everywhere. Fire extinguishers appeared; a few on the main deck, several on the gun deck, and more in the hold. The sailors produced cameras of amazing complexity with dozens of attachments. Gus estimated the galleon must now boast twenty thousand dollars’ worth of cameras and accessories.

  Nikons, Pentaxes, and Canons zoomed, focused, and snapped pictures of the Alyssa from every conceivable angle. There was much exchanging of equipment with comments such as “Get me up here…”

  When Kyoko appeared on the quarterdeck, one of the men asked permission to stand next to her for a photo. She smiled for the photographer and made a victory sign. In no time a line formed at the foot of the stairs until Rogers chased them away.

  “I guess I can still do a photo shoot,” Kyoko said with a wry smile.

  Hannah arrived on the quarterdeck with the news that communications were back up and Gus headed to his cabin to call Carol.

  *.*.*.*

  In the early evening, Alyssa informed Gus his presence was required in the officers’ mess. The previously unused room was now quite formal, complete with silverware from the New Orleans, and a modest wine cellar.

  Gus was astonished when he entered to see three women wearing long dresses. The ladies were standing at the sideboard, appreciating the craftsmanship that so incredibly matched the style of old English furniture. Jackson came in immediately behind Gus.

  Esther frowned at the men. “Did you two at least wash up?”

  Both men beat a hasty exit, returning to their respective quarters. Gus dug around in the bag of clothes he had purchased while on the New Orleans and found a white shirt. He took a quick shower and in short order met Jackson at the mess entrance.

  Jackson began the meal by popping the cork on one of the two bottles of champagne he’d brought aboard. “One to begin and one for journey’s end,” he announced, pouring everyone a share into carefully unpacked crystal goblets. They toasted each other, the US Navy, Captain Copeland, and finally Alyssa. She was a living testament to the ingenuity of her original builders and the spirit of adventure.