Chapter 22.1
Sailing less than a mile off the beach, Time Bandits felt like she was finally back in her element -- slipping along silently under full sail in the gentlest conditions, making easy headway in a close reach. But her crew was, literally and figuratively, sailing in the dark.
With no moon up the shoreline was a blackish-green strip hard to differentiate from the sea, and every village and town they passed was darker than dark. A few homes had candles going, but those were the exception, not the rule, and no cars were out on the roads yet...making the passing landscape appear almost medieval.
And all the large commercial ships normally steaming through the English Channel 24 hours a day were at a standstill, no lights visible and all apparently resting at anchor. No aircraft had been visible since the massive CME hit earlier that day, though Anton mentioned that any aircraft out over the open ocean would have -- probably -- been lost unless they were within gliding range of a nearby airport.
Theirs was a world driven by the internet and guided by GPS, that now -- suddenly, dauntingly -- had grown coldly silent. Stock exchanges? Gone. Ordering food or goods online? Unavailable. Having chest pain at midnight? Good luck with that. Your car won't start. Your kitchen appliances either don't work or barely get the job done. Taggart wondered how long the niceties of civilization would last under these conditions? How long would it take for local governments to reassert control after two centuries of centralized federalism? Local farmers' markets, anyone?
Or would the CME abate and the poles revert?
How would the climate respond? Would a new ice age begin, or would warming accelerate?
And every question Henry asked himself led his gaze to Rolf. How would the boy handle all these changes without him?
Then the real question came into sharper relief. 'How would I handle them?' Because, Henry knew, if he couldn't, then how could he expect a teenager to make his way through the coming maze. He looked at Mike and the boy hunched over their charts, advancing the plot -- laboriously. They were marking objects onshore and timing passages on an ancient windup Omega wristwatch, then deriving first their speed then their distance traveled, then marking ship's progress on the chart -- and Rolf was soaking up the knowledge like a sponge -- focused and interested, because he could see and understand that knowledge meant survival.
And so Henry quite naturally thought of his father and their own pressing rituals. How knowledge and understanding were passed from one generation to the next, whether at sea or on the football field or even hunched over desks trying to wrap minds around quadratic equations. Patiently, quietly, developing a real understanding as well as a responsibility to the future, because if his father's life had any meaning at all it revolved around one simple precept: there is no such thing as freedom without responsibility.
Then he looked at Dina and seemed a little surprised by what he saw. She was sitting almost rigidly at attention looking out to sea, as if with nothing else to do she had slipped into some kind of hibernation mode...yet she had been like this since her brief disappearance the day before.
"Can you take the wheel for a minute?" he asked her, and she blinked out of her trance and slipped behind the wheel while he went aft to the swim platform to take a leak in the bucket they kept there. He couldn't pee in the ocean anymore -- he would look at the orcas and feel guilty -- like he was taking a leak on their living room carpet. 'Man, I gotta get a grip on this...' he thought as he looked up at the pulsing waves of pink and green that were still rippling through the night sky. 'Because like it or not, I'm running out of daylight...and there is no freedom without...'
"Henry?" Rolf asked, a question hidden in his voice.
"Yo."
"We are approaching Boulogne-sur-Mer," he said, pointing to a darkened city ahead to port. "Shall we continue to follow the coast or try to sail direct to LeHavre?"
"Let's stay just off the beach...all the way. Without a reliable compass..."
"Yes, that is what Mike thinks too."
"Unless the wind changes we'll be okay, but if the wind shifts to northwesterly we'll need to tack offshore." He looked at Dina as he climbed back into the cockpit and scowled at her rigid countenance. "You baking bread tomorrow?"
"Hmm? -- what? Oh yes, I think so."
He nodded, convinced now that something was really wrong with her...
Then the music pushed it's way back into mind...the same maddening melody as before...only now the music was growing in complexity and clarity -- almost like...
'No, it couldn't be.'
'It's like the closer we get to Paris the richer the music becomes...'
'Every voyage is a teacher,' he thought again, then 'There is no freedom without responsibility.'
'Why, of all the things my father taught me, am I thinking of those two things now?'
They would, he knew, be in LeHavre tomorrow, and there, for all intents and purposes, this voyage would be over. They'd spend a few days getting the mast down and make arrangements for repairs when such facilities reopened, but all that would remain was the trip to Paris.
'Yet that won't happen without engine power, will it?'
He looked down, shaking his head at the thought of such an end to this last journey.
+++++
The water was warm here, Eva thought -- until she remembered she was breathing this water. Or...was she?
She held her hands up in front of her face and could just make out the contours in the deep gloom, then she opened her mouth -- expecting fluid to rush in. But nothing happened. Thick, moisture-laden air filled her lungs, then she leaned back until she felt the back of her head supported by water -- or something like it. She reached out and almost immediately felt that the large female orca was still by her side, still almost motionless, then, as her eyes grew adjusted to the light, she looked up -- and gasped at the sight.
There were hundreds of stars overhead, but many were so close she could easily make out planets in orbit around them...until she realized she was on a moon or some sort of satellite...perhaps a small moon orbiting -- a huge ringed planet. The side of the planet facing her moon was in 'night' just now, but by the size of the rings, she'd just seen the planet must have been very large indeed, with a third of her view of the sky dominated by an obsidian hole that simply had to be the planet. Yet beyond this planet and the nearby stars were vibrant fields of ionizing gases -- nebulas of an astonishing variety of color and transparency, with pinks, yellows, and pale greens predominating.
Then something else struck her: she wasn't tired -- neither was she expending any effort treading water. She was simply floating, yet the water wasn't briny at all -- it was simply very, very viscous, but otherwise very neutral -- and despite not being a chemist that didn't seem to add up.
Then a sliver of sunlight appeared on the limb of the planet overhead, and in this unexpectedly blueish light, she saw land not at all far away. In fact, she saw a white structure of some kind, and then she felt Henry reaching out to her.
+++++
'Where are you?'
She sent images of her surroundings to his mind, and even impressions of the 'ocean' she was in.
'Where is Britt?' he replied.
'I haven't seen her since I arrived.'
'Were Dina and Rolf with you recently?'
'No. Aren't they with you?'
'They are now, but they were gone for a while yesterday. Dina has no recall of anything like that.'
'They weren't here.'
'Are you alone?'
'No.'
'Okay. You should make for land, see what your options are for food and water.'
Henry felt something odd and shook himself out of what felt almost like a trance-like state; he opened his eyes and looked up to find Anton standing by the wheel, but he was pointing at something ashore.
"Genry! Look! See lights?"
Taggart looked where the aviator was pointing and sure enough just ahead he saw an island of bright lights not far from the coast and seemingly ablaze within a small forest; he pulled out his binoculars and looked at the scene, smiling as he recognized the familiar shapes surrounding a large nuclear power plant. Steam was rising from all four cooling towers and red anti-collision lights were blinking merrily away, yet as "normal" as the scene looked -- judging from surface appearances, anyway -- an unsettled air of discontinuity still pervaded the scene. There were no cars or trucks moving about, and no streetlights or other signs of normalcy existed beyond the confines of the plant's walls.
"They're hardened facilities," Mike said, now standing beside Anton and looking wistfully at the plant. "It gives the rest of us something to build on, I suppose."
"Assuming everything inside the plant is intact, you mean," Henry replied, his voice barely a whisper now.
"You feeling okay?" Mike asked.
"You no look so hot, Genry," Anton added. "Here, I help you back to bunk."
Henry nodded and tried to stand, but now it felt like the bones in his legs were about to snap and he cried out after a sharp pain in his right knee left him almost breathless. He slumped back then felt helping hands lifting him and carrying him down the companionway steps, and a few minutes later he was back on his bunk and restlessly asleep.
Mike went topsides and found Rolf at the helm, holding their course to parallel the coastline about a mile off the beach, and Mike resumed his work on the chart.
"Whoa!" Rolf said, his eyes on the binnacle.
"What's up?"
"The compass is swinging wildly again. It is so weird to see."
Mike nodded then looked up -- and as expected he found the upper atmosphere was a riot of iridescent pulsing waves, now deep green and purple. He looked on in awe but a moment later the lifelines and the standing rigging began to glow, then even the winches and other deck hardware took on a blueish glow as static electricity began flooding through the atmosphere.
"Be careful," he said to Rolf. "Try not to touch anything metal without grounding first."
They heard Dina shriek from down below and Mike shook his head. "Sorry!" he called out. "Another CME is hitting and the compass is swinging again."
She came thundering up the steps, glowering at Mike as she gained the cockpit, then she looked around with growing alarm in her eyes. "Where's Henry?"
"Down below. He's not doing too good right now."
"Why didn't you come get me?"
"We didn't see you."
"What do you mean you didn't see me? I've been in the galley for the past two hours!"
"Oh? Well, you weren't when we came down..."
"Nonsense!"
Mike looked at her and shook his head. "Anton?"
"Da?"
"Was Dina in the galley when we went down with Henry?"
"I not see her."
Mike looked at Dina and smiled. "Maybe you were in the head?" he said, a little sardonically.
Grumbling incoherently, an ambivalent Dina took off down the steps and disappeared into the aft cabin; Mike saw lights turn on and assumed Dina would begin looking after Henry, but Mike went to the hatch that looked down into the aft cabin and took a peek; he saw Dina sitting down there like she was in some kind of deep trance, looking straight ahead and -- she was resolutely ignoring Taggart.
"Something not right here," Anton whispered, standing beside Mike and also peering down into the cabin.
Mike looked up at the aviator, startled, but when he looked below again -- Dina was gone. He raced down below but she was nowhere to be found -- anywhere. He made his way back up to the cockpit and found Anton at the wheel, only now Rolf was nowhere to be seen...
"Boy gone," Anton said, his voice strained, then he added: "Look up."
Mike looked up; beyond the masthead several dimly glowing spheres were up in the mist, and for an instant Mike almost thought they were talking amongst themselves. One would pulse excitedly for a moment then grow dim, then another would grow more animated for a while.
"This fucked up," Anton sighed, though he appeared less visibly shaken than the last time something like this had happened. And he was still dry, too...
"I don't think that was Dina down there," Mike said, lost in thought as he looked at the orbs gathered up there in the mist.
"Boy too. He not act right."
Mike nodded. "You're right. They're like doppelgängers, or avatars. So..."
"Da, so where real Dina -- and boy?"
Mike felt a little out of sorts now, too. Henry needed attention, the kind only Dina could render, but she'd apparently been gone for most of the day and now he wondered if she'd ever be back. And without her, how long could Henry hold on?
Chapter 22.2
Henry appeared feverish the next morning; his skin was a grim waxy gray and now a tinge of yellow rimmed his eyelids. Mike heard him moving around down in the aft cabin and went below to check on him, and he found Henry leaning over the sink in the head, splashing cool water on his face. Henry looked up, saw Mike in the mirror and grinned.
"Where the Hell are we?" Taggart asked.
"About fifty miles from LeHavre. You have any idea where we can tie up when we get there?"
"Yeah, I have a place lined up across the river, in Honfleur. Get me an ETA and I'll call..."
"Uh, still no power..."
"Right. Shit, how quickly we forget. Did you see any more lights after that power plant?"
Mike shook his head and looked away. "Nothing," he said wistfully.
"Any ships in the Channel moving?"
"Nope. Everything's still quiet, even the sea state. And...Dina and Rolf disappeared after you came down here."
Henry turned and looked at Mike. "How long have they been gone?"
"Six hours, give or take. Oh, and at one point there must've been a dozen of 'Them' up above the masthead," Mike added, pointing aloft. "Looked like an argument, too."
"They get that way."
"Look, Henry, I don't want to be rude but I have no idea how to take care of you. If Dina doesn't come back, just what the Hell am I supposed to do if you really go down...?"
"Once we make port it ought to become a non-issue. If something happens between now and then, get one of Them to bring Dina back."
"And if they won't?"
"They will."
"So...you're not worried about all this stuff with her and the kid?"
"Not really."
"You know what's going on with them?"
"Nope."
"But you trust them? Is that what you're saying?"
"I believe in what they're trying to do, and they know it, too. The point, Mike, is that many of them trust me. A few don't, but then again they're not usually the ones hanging around."
Mike sighed. "Well, if you're not worried I won't waste my time getting worked up about this shit."
"Any of that banana-nut bread left?"
"If Ivan hasn't eaten all of it yet."
"I detect a little bitterness in your voice, Mike. Still fighting the last war?"
Mike looked down. "Yeah, probably, but you know, the trouble with that is I really like the guy. He reminds me of one of my redneck uncles. A patriot and all business."
"And...you're not?"
Mike laughed a little. "Point taken," he said. "Can I help you with your meds?"
Taggart shook his head. "No, I got it."
"Right. I'll go rustle up some grub."
Henry laughed at that. "Ready for the round-up, Duke?"
"I'd be content to feel some dry ground that's not been heavily irradiated recently."
Taggart nodded. "It's been a bad week."
"You could say that, yeah." Mike shrugged, then looked away. "Why don't you take a quick shower. I'll call you when breakfast is ready."
"Maybe one egg and some of that bread."
"Right."
Taggart went to the panel and flipped on the mains, and the breakers didn't trip. He turned on the pressure water system and checked that the water heater was still operating, then he stuck his head up through a hatch and spoke to Anton: "Fire up the engine, would you?"
"Is safe now?"
"I think so."
Anton hit the key and the diesel instantly turned over.
"Go ahead and put it into forward, but keep the RPMs at 1400 for ten minutes, then run it up to 1800."
"Got it."
Henry ducked below and smiled. Cold showers weren't in his playbook.
+++++
From a distance LeHavre looked almost pristine, but by the time Time Bandits approached the entrance to the commercial harbor the picture had soured -- considerably. The storm had blown out windows on the windward sides of every building in view, and a huge crane used to offload containers from ships had been knocked loose from its foundations and now lay drunkenly half in and half out of water. On the other hand, people weren't sitting back now and crying in their milk; everywhere the three men on Time Bandits looked they saw huge teams clearing away rubble and busily rebuilding the port's infrastructure.
Across the harbor, Honfleur had been spared the storm's full impact by the simple happenstance of geography. The outer canal showed signs of some minor debris still in the water, but the old inner harbor was blessedly untouched -- though now devoid of the usual throngs of tourists over saturating the too cute sidewalk cafés that lined the marina there. Time Bandits was, anyway, far too big to fit in the inner harbor, so Henry had contented himself to tie off just outside the little locks -- just along the mole that led into the inner harbor.
Customs and Immigration were called, Anton's lack of entry papers explained and a temporary visa issued on the spot, and then, just as he had done with his father too many times to count, once Time Bandits was secure he changed into clean clothes and took Mike and Anton to an ancient restaurant just off the harbor -- hoping the proprietors had survived the storm intact.
And yes, when Henry found the place was open his heart soared.
So Taggart slipped his anti-nausea meds under his tongue and let them dissolve there while he ordered lobster bisque and escargot, then salad and duck. Anton had never been in western Europe, had never eaten anything like what he enjoyed that afternoon, and after a few bottles of red had warmed his soul a little he loosened up and talked a little...
...about his daughter and grandchildren in St Petersburg...
...and then, about his final flight. Tearing up the sky as he took off from from a captured air base just outside of Amsterdam, turning to engage flights of F-35s and F-15s, and then his vague recollections of that last dogfight in the sky over a sailboat far, far below...
"It funny, Genry. Everything about that day. I should have died at least two, maybe three times. My ejection seat had no life raft, and I forgot to put on my, what you call it, my May West. So no life jacket. And I eject at forty thousand feet and fall forever, and then I land in the water fifty feet from -- you. And now here I am in this place, because of -- you. I don't pretend to understand these things, Genry, but I think maybe all this happen for reasons. I never think like these things before, but I should have drowned that day. I should be dead. Instead, here I am, with -- you. Tell me this isn't strange."
"Anton? Do you know what toasted means?" Mike asked after he came back from the WC.
"Toasted? Da, like bread toasted?"
"No, toasted, as in drunk off your ass toasted."
"I not drunk, Lacy," Anton said quietly, almost gently. "I think about this many times last two days. Like a burden has been lifted from soul. That is how feel now."
Henry looked at the Russian, studying the easy-going warmth coming from his eyes just then. "What are you thinking, Anton? What do you want to do?"
"I think I want to become priest. I want to study this...feeling..."
Mike turned away, trying to hide the smirk spreading across his face...
But oddly enough, Henry Taggart did not.r"
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