by James Walley
Timbers glanced at Marty, seeming to sense what his companion was thinking, and chuckled. "Do you remember that time when you were six?" He giggled. "You came and dug me out of the garden after the neighbor’s dog kidnapped me?"
Marty sniggered, nodding and smiling at the memory.
"And that time you were going to camp? You wouldn't get on the bus because your mum had forgotten to pack me?"
"I insisted we go back and get you," Marty chipped in, still laughing.
Now sporting a full on guffaw, the little pirate spoke again, "How about when you built me a pirate ship out of a cardboard box?"
"Yeah, it didn't last long in the garden pond though." Marty sputtered, laughing as hard as his pint sized cohort. Both continued to snort and chuckle for a few minutes, before the frivolity subsided, and Timbers turned to his friend.
Smiling, he extended a tiny cloth hand towards Marty. "I'm glad I got the chance to repay one of the ones I owed you."
It was a moment, and a sentence, Marty hadn't expected, and he hesitated before holding out his hand as well. The handshake was brief and slightly awkward, but didn't need to be anything else. It simply seemed the thing to do, even if it had not been needed to convey the feelings between them.
Timbers cleared his throat sharply, pulling them back into the moment at hand. "Come on now! Don't get all sentimental on me. We've still got a job to do."
As if to reinforce the point, a whistle rang out from the crow's nest above, and both peered up into the rigging. Bob was gesturing to a point just off the starboard bow and, as they turned to look, the ship banked in the same direction.
A cluster of lights punctuated the hillside, twinkling in the ever encroaching twilight. They ran in a group for a few hundred yards and then spaced out into a longer less illuminated line. As the Fathom drew closer, Marty could make out a huge glass dome, which appeared to be the source of the lights. Spanning out from either side, and lit by lanterns at intervals, was a large, looping track, although it appeared less like a railway and more like a rollercoaster. It pitched and dove sharply with rakishly angled turns and chicanes, which had no business belonging to a normal track.
The Fathom slowed, buffeting beneath the steadying wings of Zephyr, and gradually descended towards the dome. Marty rose to his feet and stared out at the almost ethereal structure before them. The dome itself radiated with a soft blue light that pulsed like a heartbeat. Although there was no shunting of trains or chattering of platform announcements, a steady hum seemed to allude to some sort of activity within.
Timbers scanned the ground beneath them with a small brass telescope. "Well, there's nowhere to weigh anchor so we'll just have to hover outside." He shook his head disapprovingly. "Honestly, these places never have adequate parking facilities for airborne pirates."
Whistling up at Bob in his crow's nest, Timbers snapped his fingers twice before performing an elaborate hand gesture. Nodding, Bob turned to his doppelganger and relayed the instruction, which was in turn transmitted to the looming Zephyr. Observing the proceedings, Marty concluded that the gesture must have been an order to park, as the Fathom drifted gracefully into a holding position above the entrance to the dome. With a nod from his captain, Oaf pitched two rope ladders over the side, which toppled to the tarmacked car park a few meters beneath them.
With a second, smiling nod, this time towards Marty, the little captain swept a tiny cloth hand towards the edge of the deck. "After you, matey. You've got a train to catch."
Marty patted his companion on the shoulder warmly before vaulting overboard and onto the swinging ladder. This embarking and disembarking a flying pirate ship was getting worryingly familiar and, with a few short hops, Marty stood on terra firma, watching as Kate and the others descended from the Fathom. Further above them, Zephyr continued to hold the ship in places, flapping his mighty metal wings and sending gusts of wind surging down upon the disembarking crew. Within moments, they had reached the ground, and stood alongside Marty at the foot of a long flight of glass steps leading up to a pair of tall glass doors.
Timbers stood on the first step, calling over his shoulder as he hopped onto the second. "I'm going to stick my neck out and guess that this is the way in. Come on," he chirped as Marty gave chase. After twenty or thirty steps, and several protests that a place like this really should have an escalator, they arrived at the skyscraping entrance doors. Soaring to dizzying heights, they stood open invitingly, framed by a wide, colorful sign emblazoned with metallic lettering confirming that this was, in fact, Lucidity Junction.
The sun had started to join forces with the horizon behind them, and a deep orange glow sprang back from the letters, giving them an almost fluid look and further adding to the mysterious and transient appearance of the dome. Indeed, the whole surface of the structure seemed almost ablaze, dancing with reflected hues from the ebbing sun.
The group crossed the small courtyard and entered the dome, leaving the oranges and yellows behind, to be greeted by the blue iridescence that had been so prominent on their approach. The interior was stark, but no less impressive, boasting high reaching ceilings, flawless glass walkways, and seemingly endless rows of frosted glass seating. At regular intervals throughout the massive terminus, towering glass pillars emitted the pulsing blue light, which gave the interior its distinctive hue. As had been the case at Stellar Island, though, there was not a soul in sight.
"I bet they have a strict no stone throwing policy in here," Timbers chipped in as Marty scanned the vast chamber for signs of life. The pirate’s little voice echoed ominously, drawing a nervous giggle from the little captain. This, too, echoed, although not nearly as ominously as the first utterance.
"Welcome to Lucidity Junction," A voice boomed from overhead, causing several sharp intakes of breath. Several eyes gazed in the direction of the voice, to a point at the far end of the hallway where a train itinerary was hung on the wall. Above it, a large public address speaker barked into life again. "Tickets are not available at this stop, since you already know where you are going, anyway."
Marty made a beeline for the itinerary even before the voice finished talking and traced a finger along the huge list of times and destinations as Kate and the crew of the Fathom caught up with him.
Peering up at the list, Timbers let out a short chuckle. "Will you look at that!" he cried, clearly amused at the list that stretched a good way up the wall. Each line seemed to give exactly the same information.
Time: When you get here - Destination: Everywhere
"Looks like we needn't have rushed as it doesn't look like you can miss your train." He giggled.
Marty turned to face them, a half smile on his lips. "No, it makes perfect sense. When you lucid dream, you know where you are and you can do what you like. When you get here, you just choose your destination and away you go."
Timbers' good eye widened. "Handy," he agreed, "Might be an idea to paint an X on the floor here and draw a map. This seems like a place I could get some use out of."
Marty nodded. "Why is it empty, though? It's like Stellar Island."
"No idea." Timbers shrugged. "Maybe you don't use this place much. As for Stellar Island, like I said before, who dreams of being at work? Why would anyone want to do that?"
Marty felt his face flush slightly, suddenly realizing why Stellar Island took up space in his dreamscape. He glanced over at Kate, whose similarly colored cheeks suggested she could hazard a wild guess. Diving headlong into a change of subject, Marty scooted over to the connecting doors that appeared to lead back outside.
"Look, there's only one platform," he said way too loudly. That made sense, too, he supposed. No need for multiple platforms when there was only one destination: Everywhere.
Moving outside and onto the platform, Timbers enquired as to the whereabouts of the train, just as a piercing horn signaled its approach. Again, all eyes turned towards the shrill intrusion as a shining silver, steam train pulled into the s
tation. Although it appeared antiquated and out of place within such pristine surroundings, it seemed to be brand new.
The gleaming silver engine came to rest beside them, pulling behind it half a dozen immaculate chrome carriages. Steam poured from the engine's spotless chimney stack as it sat, almost purring, beside the platform. The doors to each carriage slid soundlessly open, offering a glimpse of the plush and lavish looking red velvet interior. All in all, it would not have looked out of place in a turn of the century murder mystery novel and yet here it was, sitting outside what looked like a cross between a futuristic spaceport and a giant inverted punch bowl.
Marty took a step towards the open doors of the first carriage, turning back to his friends just as he reached them. It had not felt like just one day in the company of these colorful misfits, and he found himself searching for the right words to say. A broad smile broke across Timbers' face as he spied the look on Marty's face. Trotting over to join him at the doors, the little captain offered up a hand to shake. Smiling, Marty grasped it firmly and attempted to formulate a goodbye of some kind.
"You know, I would never have made it here without your help," he began awkwardly. "I'd probably still be at home wondering why my reflection was talking to me."
Marty shifted his feet uncomfortably, still trying to verbalize his feelings in a way that would not have them both cringing. "I suppose I just wanted to say thank…"
"Come on now, we've been over this," Timbers cut in, giving Marty's hand a boisterous tug. "All I want to know is, did you have fun?"
Allowing a chuckle to burst the sentimental bubble that had begun to form, Marty nodded, fixing the tiny pirate with a look that passed on his thanks without the need for words. Looking past Timbers at the assembled crew of the Flying Fathom, Marty extended the same thanks. Gruff, manly nods were exchanged by all except Oaf, who's attention had been drawn away by a stray fluttering leaf, before Marty turned to Kate.
She stood beside him and peered in through the door of the first carriage. "Right, are we off then?" she enquired cheerily.
Before Marty could ask the question, she was already answering it. "Hey, I've come this far with you, it's not like I have anything better to do, and anyway, I want a go on this rollercoaster train, it looks wild." Beaming, she strolled past Marty into the carriage and took a seat. Looking from Kate, to Timbers, and back to Kate again, Marty realized if he'd stayed here for one day or a million days, he would never be too far away from surprise and bemusement. Raising a hand to wave one last time to his companions from the Flying Fathom, he turned and boarded the carriage, happy to be taking the last step of his journey in good company.
Another rasping whistle rang out and more steam billowed from the chimney stack as the train prepared to leave. The doors drifted shut, and Timbers called out to his friend.
"If you think on, have some piratey dreams. We'll go and look for treasure, eh?"
"It's a date," Marty replied, imparting another wave.
Timbers laughed heartily and shook his head. "Get going, ya big girl."
Almost in compliance to the command, the train shunted forward lazily, picking up speed and churning out more thick, white steam. Marty gazed out of the window, watching his friends grow ever more distant on the platform. Oaf had apparently noticed their departure and waved a hefty cloth paw as the train reached the end of the platform.
Marty took a seat by the window as the train picked up speed. They were soon heading up a steep incline that dropped away sharply ahead. He smiled. This did look like fun, and at the end of it, he would be back home with any luck. He glanced over at Kate, who was peering up the aisle between them.
"I think I'll go and see if there's a buffet carriage. We haven't eaten all day. Do you want anything?" she asked as she made her way through the deserted carriage. Smiling back at her, Marty shook his head and watched while she headed through the tiny door at the end of the aisle before turning his attention back to the window.
Outside, a familiar shaped appeared from behind the domed station, and veered in the direction of the departing train. Squinting into the fading evening sun, Marty opened the window and craned his head out for a better look. Soaring high above the train at a rapidly increasing rate of knots, the Flying Fathom pitched and turned so the tiny figures visible on deck could properly wave their friend off.
Marty extended a hand, waving back enthusiastically but froze almost immediately as a larger, darker shape appeared behind the Fathom. Dropping out of the twilight shadows, a huge airship drew alongside the markedly smaller pirate ship, blotting out the retreating evening sun. Almost entirely black, with jagged swathes of red striping its bloated frame, the enormous zeppelin drifted silently closer. On the deck below the dirigible, hunched figures lurked, their terrible grins visible even from a distance. As it passed over the Fathom, the figures leapt overboard. Marty's eyes widened as he realized what descended menacingly upon the flying pirate ship.
The clowns had found them.
They poured down onto the Flying Fathom like braying ghoulish hailstones. Something else had also landed heavily on the deck of the flying pirate ship, as it shook, shifted, and almost buckled with a splintering sound that Marty could hear from the train. As it pitched wildly to one side, barrels, boxes, and rope dropped overboard, forcing Marty to duck back inside the train as they plummeted past. He peered back at the Fathom as it was jolted a second time, sending more debris cascading from the deck.
Marty's eyes widened, and he recognized one of the shapes tumbling towards him. It was Timbers shaped.
#
For the first time that day, Marty wished this had been one of the occasions when time slowed to a crawl. Staring wildly up at his falling comrade, he realized the seconds he had to react were annoyingly behaving like seconds, and were slipping by faster than he could process what was happening. Leaning out of the carriage, he made a desperate grab for one of the ropes that had fallen from the deck, now dangling beside the door from which he hung. Gaining a purchase on the rope, Marty glanced skyward just as the angry protests of the little captain came into earshot. Timbers was almost upon him, and Marty twisted sharply to face the descending buccaneer, holding out his free hand to catch him. Flashing back to games of catch he had taken part in as a child, Marty tried to ignore the fact that his sporting ability stretched to just watching as Timbers collided with him in a flurry of curses and pinwheeling arms. Luckily, pirates are a totally different shape to balls, and Marty managed to snag the little pirate's foot, halting his descent.
Timbers ceased his profane ranting and craned around to identify his savior. "Hell of a catch, matey!" he cheered. "Aren't you supposed to be on a train, though?"
Marty hauled his companion back in into the carriage. "I am. So are you, now."
Hopping back to his feet, Timbers was at the door in an instant, squinting up at the Fathom. "I've got to get back there. The lily livered bilge rats broadsided us!" he growled, leaping with surprising ease onto the trailing rope, and scurrying up it. Marty reached over as it swung back towards the train, and hoisted himself behind the climbing captain.
Timbers paused in his ascent and hollered back at Marty. "Where do you think you're going? You've got to stay on that train."
"I'm not going to leave you knee deep in clowns," Marty called out through the rushing wind. "We need to help the crew."
Timbers shook his head. "We can handle this. Get going. It'll be okay."
Dangling from the rope, Marty looked up at his tiny friend, and then back through the door of the speeding carriage next to them. He wished Kate would hurry up and get back from her search for sandwiches. He wished he had a plan. He wished he had a surface-to-clown bazooka.
Cursing, he swung himself back to the door, catching the frame and hauling himself inside. Above him, Timbers was climbing again, and higher still, the Fathom rocked erratically as Zephyr fought to maintain control.
The little captain reached the
deck, hauling himself back on board just as more debris was flung past him and over the side. Much of this debris was clown-shaped, and was being ushered over the edge by a dervish-like Oaf. Spinning ferociously, he held out his mighty wooden mallet, catching everything that got close to him, and sending it toppling after the clowns he had already dispatched.
There were a number of the giggling interlopers still on deck, however, advancing menacingly with taloned hands outstretched. Behind them, Whipstaff vaulted masts and rigging as three more of the painted ghouls gave chase. From their crow’s nests, the Bobs had taken to delivering death from above. Throwing anything they could get their hands on. Various objects crashed down around the hellish harlequins. One was felled by a coconut, another struck by a teapot, and a third was knocked to the ground as a toilet seat was cast heroically from the heavens.
#
Timbers surveyed the carnage proudly, not only because his crew were making short work of these scurvy dogs, but also because deep down, pirates just love carnage. He patted the cutlass at his side, a spare that he had fetched from his quarters, and strode purposefully into the fray.
The fight had largely left the remaining clowns, and they huddled together in a tight circle as the crew of the Fathom advanced, offering the simpering intruders only one course of action. Without hesitation, they took it, leaping over the side of the deck in a mass of shrieking, cackling, colorful chaos.