TITLE: A Dream of the Sea
AUTHOR: Michael J. Gallagher ( mikejoe@odyssey.net )
SYNOPSIS: Dylan has a dream; it's not pleasant
DISCLAIMER: GRA is owned by Tribune; I am not making any money off this so don't sue me.
=============================
"Captain on deck!" the girl, Trance, chirped as Captain Dylan Hunt ascended onto the aft deck of the H. M. S. *Andromeda,* the last of the Commonwealth's three-masted warships.
Beka barely glanced over from the wheel. "Quick, get the town crier," she said.
Dylan, resplendent in the dark blue uniform of a Royal Navy captain, smiled as he gently lowered Trance's saluting arm. "As you were," he said quietly, then turned to his helmsman. "You wanted to see me, Beka?"
"Yes, about THAT." Beka's eyes flicked towards the prow. Dylan followed her gaze; though it was a bright, sunny day, dark clouds were looming on the horizon.
"You're concerned about bad weather?" Dylan asked.
"'Concerned' in the sense that Tyr may know how to fight," Beka said. "The seas have turned very strange since the Commonwealth fell; harmless clouds one minute could be a hurricane the next. And those clouds don't look harmless to begin with."
"What do you suggest?"
"Turn south; go around it."
Dylan inhaled. "Beka, we are supposed to be at the Thanic Islands before next moon rise; deviating from the most direct course, this one, will take too long, and arriving late is a major faux pas among the Thans."
"Yeah? Well, at least we'll be alive for them to be annoyed with us."
"We're going through it, Beka. Hold your course."
"Dylan -- "
"HOLD YOUR COURSE." He lowered his voice. "If you and your crew want to leave at the next port of call, you can. You know that."
"Except you're part of my crew, and I don't leave crewmen behind, ever." She sighed. "We're going through. Rev?"
"Pray," the monk at her side said.
"You got it," Beka said.
"Where's Harper -- never mind, I see him. Carry on, Beka."
"Aye, aye," she said, just barely hiding her sarcasm.
Dylan made his way to the bow of his ship, where Seamus Harper, a dirty but lively lad of maybe Trance's age, was busying himself with "Rommie," the ship's figurehead. Harper was a genius; it never ceased to amaze Dylan how he single-handedly kept the ship in good order. But he was as simple as he was brilliant; he had fallen in love with the sculpture of a beautiful, exotic, olive-skinned woman that graced the ship's prow. He often spoke to her as if she were a living woman; he was whispering in her ear as Dylan approached.
Dylan coughed. "Master Harper."
The boy whirled as if shot. "Uh -- high, Boss -- "
"At ease, son; you were just polishing the woodwork, yes?"
"Uh, yeah, right." Harper turned and rubbed the figurehead's shoulder. "Makin' sure Rommie's clean enough to eat off of."
"Of course."
"So, what can I do you for?"
"Beka is concerned about the clouds ahead."
Harper glanced at them. "Yep, she would be. No chance of going around it?"
"No."
"Didn't think so."
"Don't worry; I'm confident *Andromeda* can make it through, but if you would be good enough to go below and rig the ship for a storm -- "
"No problem, cap'n!" Harper sprang from his perch. "Rommie and me will be ready, won't we darlin'?" He smiled at the statue; it continued to gaze out at the ocean. "We'll be ready," Harper said. He raced away.
Dylan found Tyr Anaszi standing behind him.
"Something I can do for you?" Dylan asked.
"You do nothing to discourage that?" said the dark-skinned warrior from the land of Nietzsche.
"Discourage what?"
"Harper is enamored with a thing of wood! Have you heard him at night? He sings to it, or reads the basest -- and most poorly composed -- love poems ever heard anywhere on the eleven seas. At worst, he's delusional; at best, perverted. Either way, he will never take a wife at the rate he's going."
Dylan sighed. "Or maybe the lad just feels the affection many seamen have for their ships -- but doesn't know when to stop expressing it. And it motivates him to keep her in good order. I'm not going to argue with what works."
"Hmmph."
"You have no soul, Tyr."
"Of course not; there is no such thing."
**********
*As the moon comes from behind the clouds, the figurehead changes; wood becomes flesh, and she draws breath as she separates from the prow of the ship, and walks the wooden decks, her long white gown flowing behind her .... *
*And then she is in Dylan's cabin, standing over his bed. She smiles at her captain, leans over, and kisses him .... *
Dylan woke and sat up on his bed; he'd retreated to his cabin after his talk with Anasazi and taken a short nap. Such dreams were the main reason he tolerated Harper ..... but made him wonder whether he would soon start talking to wood, too.
He crossed to his desk, covered with charts, scrolls, and a copy of his Commonwealth charter .... and heard the first thunderclap, the pounding of rain, and felt the deck rock under his feet.
Beka was barely hanging on to the wheel when he got onto the bridge.
"I won't say 'I told you so'!" she said.
"Uh, thanks!" Dylan managed. He grabbed the wheel by her side.
"It just blew up," Beka said. "I'm hoping that if we hold this course, we'll be through it in ..... "
Beka trailed off, her and Dylan's eyes widening.
A huge wave, almost as tall as the *Andromeda's* masts, was bearing down on them.
"Then again .... " Beka said.
The wave struck; the water hit Dylan like a wall, tearing his hands from the wheel and carrying him into the icy depths. His chest burst; he hadn't had time to grab a lungful of air.
Then he saw light above him, kicked upwards and broke through the surface.
"Bek -- " Water surged into his mouth and he coughed it out. "Beka! Tyr! Harper! ANYBODY!"
There was no answer save for the howling wind and driving rain. He treaded water, slowly turning around ....
..... and saw something in the middle distance. Lightning illuminated it -- it was the ship's prow, slowly sinking in the water; he could see no other part of the ship. Another flash, and he could make out Harper, clinging to the figurehead from behind, saying something in its ear, and .... Dylan had to be mad -- did the wooden figure raise a hand to his cheek and weep as she answered him .... ?
.... or was it a trick of the light?
But there was no mistaking that Harper and "Rommie" were sinking into the turbulent sea. Though he hated the ocean, Harper was a good swimmer, but he would surely drown if he did not let go of her.
He did not let go of her; they vanished beneath the waves.
"No!" Dylan cried. "NO! Gods, not them, not all of them! Take me, not them -- "
Another wave crashed down onto him; Dylan didn't fight as it drove him down into the icy darkness ....
**********
Dylan came to his senses on a beach. He was bruised all over and soaking wet, but the storm clouds were passing.
Coughing out water and picking seaweed from his coat, he got to his feet and looked around. The place looked mildly tropical, but apart from the grass and the palm trees, there was no sign of life.
He had done it again, survived in the face of incalculable odds, but his ship and crew were gone.
.... his ship and crew were gone ....
Dylan fell to his knees, tears welling in his eyes .....
...... and woke up in his cabin aboard the High Guard star cruiser *Andromeda Ascendant* as the tears began to fall down his cheeks. It took him a moment to remember where he was.
"Lights," he said.
The lights came up, and the hologram of a beautiful, exotic young woman, who in his dream had been made of wood, appeared next to his bed.
"You had one of those dreams again," she said.
"What one of those dreams, Rommie?" he asked, smiling and feigning innocence.
"The ones you won't tell anyone about but that leave you brooding all day long."
"No, I'm fine." But his face was straining under the smile.
"Yep, one of them again." Rommie vanished.
Dylan rose and crossed to his desk, covered with a mess of flexies depicting star charts, communiques, and a copy of Commonwealth charter. He sat in his chair and thought for a long time before he went back to bed and tried to sleep again.
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