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Sky Lights Page 12

by Barclay Baker


  ‘What the——!’ exclaimed the professor. Delicately using two pairs of tweezers, he manoeuvred the ring until it was free of the mechanism. The clock stopped ticking. He lifted the bone with the ring still in place on to a clean glass. He placed it under the microscope. As he focused the image, he could see details on the ring that made his blood run cold. It was a large, ostentatious, gold ring. On top was a scull and crossbones with two gems that looked like rubies in the eye sockets. Round the edge in bold relief were the initials J.H. as clear as the day they’d been engraved. There could be no mistaking the owner of the ring and therefore there could be no mistaking the owner of the finger bone. ‘My God!’ he breathed, ‘Maybe I can do it. This is Hook’s ring, so this must be Hook’s finger.’

  Carefully he picked up the glass with its precious contents, carried it to the table at the side of the room and laid it down. He prepared a lidded glass jar with an 80% alcohol solution and using tweezers, gently transferred the bone and the ring into the jar and closed it. He labelled the jar with shaking fingers. Sinking back on to the stool he stared at the specimen. This could be a major breakthrough in his research. No one had contemplated this kind of procedure before. Even he had not dared think of it. If he could pull it off, he would be as famous as Alexander Fleming who had discovered penicillin or Marie Curie who had discovered radium. His hands were sweating inside his latex gloves, so he pulled them off and disposed of them in the waste bin. He poured himself a glass of water from the flask provided by the pirates. He wished it was whisky! He needed to calm his nerves. He sat down again with his notebook to plan the procedure. The glass of water was forgotten and the smell from the trough ceased to trouble him as he concentrated.

  Plans made, Professor Dante set about preparing all his solutions, jars and medical tools. He plugged in the electrical equipment he’d brought from Roslin. He began to run statistics and probability studies through his ABRT machine. He calculated quantities of liquids, drugs and powders, mixing here, separating there till he was ready to start the procedure. Then he checked everything twice. Carefully he took the lidded jar and removed the finger bone with the ring from the solution, laying it on a sterile white sheet on the prepared trolley. With a small tool, he delicately probed the tiny space where part of the bone and the ring touched. Yes, he could feel some soft tissue there. How on earth it could have survived all these years in the acidic fluid of the crocodile’s stomach, he had no idea. Nor did he know how a clock could have gone on ticking all these years. But these trivial points didn’t concern him. His job was to use the piece of tissue to fabricate a man.

  He connected his equipment to the overhead pulley system. Bringing down the leads, he attached them to the tiny piece of flesh with small electrode clips. Other leads from the overhead pulley were drawn across the room to the main ABRT transponder. This was connected to Professor Dante’s own prototype reconstitution machine. Various quantities of liquids and powders were mixed in a small dish. He added the finger bone. Only then, when he had double checked all his calculations and connections, did he switch on the machinery. At first nothing happened. No sign of anything at all. He studied the dials’ quivering needles indicating temperature and electrical activity. All seemed to be well. He stole a glance at the table. Was something happening? Taking a faltering step closer, he saw a cloudy gas starting to rise from the dish in faint wisps. He strained to see through it.

  Going back to the controls, he increased the electrical activity into the tissue. He turned back to the table and was stunned to see a finger wearing the pirate ring. Before his very eyes, one finger became four. To his amazement, the fingers took on a life of their own. They crept across the glass dish like a spider. Climbing out on to the table top, the gruesome hand toppled over, electrodes still attached. Now a thumb appeared - as it lay on its back, like a dead insect. The flesh and bone, muscles and sinews continued to spread as the ABR technique caused the body to regenerate itself; first a wrist, then a forearm. The forearm became an elbow and slowly but inexorably grew towards the shoulder. The flesh of the arm was covered in tattoos - a scull and crossbones, a mermaid and a ship in full sail. The body continued to grow, first a shoulder, then a neck and a back. It seemed to be in a hurry to complete itself.

  Professor Dante felt elated to witness such a transformation. The legs grew, then the back of the head, even the black ringlets the pirate was famous for. The effort to grow seemed to have taken a lot out of the body. It lay there face down with no further movement. The professor was relieved. It had been very unnerving to see the fingers move alone. Taking no chances, he picked up a large syringe filled with a sedative to subdue the body before it came to life. He approached the table just as the final parts of Hook manifested themselves. Pinching the flesh of the man’s thigh, he stuck the needle in and depressed the plunger till all the sedative had been administered. He reached for a sterile sheet to cover the seemingly lifeless, yet warm to the touch, body.

  This was a glorious moment! He would be famous! The whole world would hear about this. He would go down in history as the brains behind the greatest medical breakthrough of the century. But now he had to hand Hook over to the pirates. What would they have to say about his efforts? Worse than that, what would Captain Hook have to say? Some things were not quite as they should be. He knew before he started this grotesque task that he may not succeed, that his research was not complete. But he was so close to perfection, closer than he ever thought possible. So close that he couldn’t help wondering what had caused the experiment to go ever so slightly wrong?

  His next thought plunged him from elation into the deepest despair. What was wrong with him? Why did his work always come first? Now he was able save his lovely daughter, Wendy, and all he could think of was his experiment. She should have been his first thought. His next idea gave him some renewed hope. Maybe he had a bargaining tool to use with the pirates. He called them in as his plan took shape.

  ‘Well? Have you done it? Can we see him?’ barked Skylights.

  The exhausted professor nodded, pulling back the sheet just enough to show them Hook’s face. There was no doubting who it was.

  ‘Shiver me timbers! It’s the man himself!’ MacStarkey was astounded.

  ‘Doesn’t he look peaceful!’ pondered O’Mullins. ‘I never saw him look that peaceful before, not ever.’

  ‘But he’s still dead! There’s no sign of life. I want him alive! I want him dead! I mean I want him alive so I can kill him!’ exploded Skylights in a rage. ‘Why isn’t he alive?’

  ‘I can make him alive,’ said the professor, ‘but first you bring Wendy here. I want to see her. I want to know she’s safe. Once you have your living Captain Hook, I want to leave with my daughter.’

  As long as Hook remained tranquillised, the pirates would think he was dead. They wanted him alive. They would do anything to have him alive. And they knew John Dante was the only one who could make it happen. He was counting on it. The pirates gathered in a huddle and discussed the proposition. John, pretending to sort out his instruments, thought of Wendy and silently prayed that this deception would work.

  ‘Fine!’ said Skylights. ‘You win! We’re impressed with what you’ve done so far. Fitzsmee will fetch your lass. We agree to free you both as soon as Hook steps off that table. Shake on it? You can always trust a pirate’s word if he shakes your hand.’

  The professor had his doubts, but he had no choice. This way, he would see Wendy soon. She was obviously still very much alive.

  CHAPTER 13

  The Battle of the Shadows

  ‘But how will the shadows know what to do?’ asked Shelley.

  ‘We must put a plan together and transmit it to the shadows,’ said Peter. ‘I know about these things,’ he continued vaguely.

  ‘There are two pirates and I heard them call each other Noddler and Jukes,’ said Jack. ‘We need to set two shadows on each pirate.’

  ‘My shadow can overcome any pirate single-handedly,’ said Pe
ter haughtily. ‘My shadow can……’

  ‘Look, Peter, we’re a team and we have to work together. It’s not a slur on the ability of your shadow. We just want the job done quickly. Is that all right?’

  ‘Very well,’ agreed Peter. ‘For the good of us all, I will allow my shadow to work with Amy’s.’

  He didn’t look too pleased about it but to appease him, Amy said, ‘As soon as we overcome the pirate, Peter, your shadow can take over and I’ll get mine to look for the keys, so it can let us out of here.’

  ‘I was just thinking that,’ said Peter. ‘That’s our plan.’

  ‘Right, let’s split into twos. Amy and Peter will take on Jukes, while Shelley and I deal with Noddler,’ said Jack. ‘Put the rolled up shadows down in front of you, then put one hand on each shadow. Tell them to work together to overcome the pirates and to leave them tied up.’

  The children arranged themselves on the floor as Jack had suggested, and with serious expressions on their faces, laid their hands on top of the shadows. Their lips mouthed words of instruction and encouragement over and over. The four rolled up bundles began to quiver and shake under the children’s hands as the chanting grew faster and louder until the whole room was vibrating with the energy they were creating.

  ‘Do it now,’ cried Peter, as he grabbed his shadow and laid it flat on the floor and threaded it carefully under the door. It slipped silently through the merest of gaps and disappeared. Amy quickly followed suit, then Jack and Shelley. It was all over in a few seconds.

  ‘I wish we could see what’s happening on the other side,’ said Shelley.

  ‘No problem,’ replied Peter. ‘I can show us the other room. The fairy dust can turn the door into a crystal window. It only works one way, so we’ll be able see into their room but the pirates won’t see into ours.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us about that?’ said Amy.

  ‘You didn’t ask me,’ Peter said huffily. ‘I can do all sorts of things. You only have to ask.’

  ‘Oh, Peter,’ said Shelley. ‘How can we ask if we don’t know what to ask for?’

  Peter threw some fairy dust over the door and they watched in amazement. The wood took on a liquid like consistency, shimmered, and finally became clear. They clustered round and held their breath, anxious to see what would unfold. They could see the two pirates, Noddler and Jukes, seated at the far side of the room, a pair of ancient pistols on the table in front of them, their belts and cutlasses slung over the backs of their chairs. Of the shadows, there was no sign. The children looked all around the room. There was nothing to show that the pirates were not alone.

  Then Jack nudged the others and pointed at the floor on the pirates’ side. There, just in front of the magic door, was a dark shape, like a stain, spreading out across the wooden floorboards. It travelled slowly and silently, like a ghostly black river, until it was right behind the pirates. As the children watched, riveted, the dark shape split into two and began to climb up the wooden chair legs where the pirates sat. Bored with their wait for the fairy dust, they were blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. Jukes sat brushing non existent fluff off his sleeve. Noddler was picking at a scab on his hand. He felt a cold clammy sensation envelop his legs.

  ‘What the….’ he started. Looking down, he saw a dark shape wrapping itself round his legs. He tried to stand up, but lost his balance and fell over. Jack’s shadow leapt up on to its feet, grabbed the pistol from the table, and aimed it at Noddler who fell back on to the floor in alarm. The pirate scrabbled across the floor, dragging Shelley’s shadow with him. He reached up and grabbed the belt holding his cutlass. It was such a disadvantage having his hands on backwards, that, although he managed to get a grip on his sword, when he slashed with the metal blade, he only succeeded in chopping off two of the table legs. Meanwhile, the other two shadows had sneaked up on Jukes. Peter’s shadow had poured itself under the chair and crept up the far wall where it took up a menacing pose in the unmistakeable shape of Peter Pan.

  ‘Jumping jellyfish,’ shouted Jukes in fright, as he sprang to his feet. Amy’s shadow crept up the back of the chair and leapt on Jukes’s back. She clasped her hands round his neck as he cowered away from Peter Pan’s shadow, which was dominating the room. Jukes, realising he was under attack, whirled round. Amy’s shadow billowed out like a cape. He twisted and turned so violently that it lost its grip. It slithered to the ground and lay in a heap.

  Jack pounded on the door as he saw his sister’s shadow fall. ‘For goodness sake, Peter! Help her!’ Peter’s shadow was oblivious to Jack’s plea and continued to torment the pirate. Jukes, now free, grabbed his cutlass from its scabbard and raised it above his head. Amy’s shadow, winded, crept under the shelter of the table to recover, while Jukes, regaining his nerve, began to stalk Peter’s shadow. He brought the blade down in a mighty slash but the shadow quickly turned sideways. The blade flashed through the air without making contact. The shadow turned to face him once more and the pirate slashed again. The shadow jumped the other way to avoid the cutlass. All the pirate could see was a fine black line, hovering in the air, so thin was the fabric of the shadow.

  Jukes tried a new strategy, as Peter’s shadow taunted him. The pirate took the sword in two hands. The sharp blade sliced through the air as if to remove the shadow’s head. Before the blade could strike, the shadow’s head rolled down to its chest and the sword whistled harmlessly through the space where the shadow’s neck had been. Almost immediately, the head unfurled itself and thumbed its nose at the pirate. Enraged, Jukes redoubled his efforts. Peter’s shadow continued to dodge and dance its way round the room while Jukes tried in vain to pierce it with the cutlass.

  Shelley’s shadow had wrapped itself round the table legs, along with the hapless Noddler, to keep him subdued. Jack’s shadow grabbed the pirate’s belt and fastened it tightly around Noddler’s waist, trapping his arms to his sides, and pinioning him to a leg of the heavy table, his hands sticking out grotesquely. The pirate was reduced to a quivering wreck, unable to make any sense of what was happening in the cabin.

  Shelley’s shadow was able to unwind from Noddler’s legs now that he was immobilised. She pointed to Jukes who was still slashing away wildly at the nimble shadow of Peter Pan who had quite forgotten their plan and was enjoying himself immensely while dodging the cold steel blade. Jack’s shadow reached out, grabbed Jukes by the leg, and up ended him in a classic Tae Kwon Do throw. Jack, on the other side of the glass, could hardly contain himself. ‘Did you see that?’ he asked. ‘My shadow knows what I know.’

  Amy’s shadow, now recovered, crept out from under the table and wrapped her body round Jukes’s head. Blinded, he struggled valiantly, but when Shelley’s shadow wrestled the cutlass from his grasp, he gave up the fight and the shadows were able to truss him up as well. Amy’s shadow got down to the business of feeling in the tunic pockets for the keys to unlock the door. Seconds later, the three children and Peter entered the room.

  Peter’s shadow continued to taunt the pirates with fierce gestures. ‘Did you see how my shadow beat the pirates?’ crowed Peter. ‘My shadow was the bravest of them all.’

  ‘If you say so,’ said Jack, wearily, knowing there was no point in arguing with Peter. ‘Our plan worked and that’s all that matters. We are free and the pirates are tied up.’

  ‘How do we reattach the shadows?’ asked Amy. ‘What happened in the book?’

  ‘Wendy sewed them on,’ replied Shelley, ‘but we’ll have to do it later. Let’s roll them up and take them with us.’

  ‘And let’s not forget the pouch of fairy dust,’ said Jack.

  ‘Oh yes. The fairies will be so grateful to me for returning the fairy dust to their nests,’ beamed Peter. ‘They will be amazed to hear how I single-handedly beat the pirates to escape with the fairy dust.’

  The three children rolled their eyes at one another and smiled. They knew that they had to rely on Peter to get them home again safely.

  ‘You
said we could email to let our parents know we are O.K.,’ Amy reminded Peter. ‘Can we do that before we do anything else? They’ll be frantic by now.’

  ‘Good point Amy,’ said Shelley. ‘Can you take us to your computer first?’

  Peter and the girls went off to send the email while Jack went back into the prison to pick up the pouch of fairy dust. It was still almost full, although there was a fair amount spilled on the floor from the shadows. He wondered whether he ought to try to gather it up but decided they probably had enough. He pulled the drawstring tight to seal the bag and placed the loop over his head.

  He popped his head into the room where Jukes and Noddler lay. He couldn’t help laughing at the sight of them. They’d deserved all they got. ‘Right then, I guess we’ll shortly be on our way home. Adios amigos.’ He gave a cheeky salute to the trussed up pirates and was just about to leave the Jolly Roger when the others came back.

  ‘Let’s go right now.’ Shelley was anxious to get away.

  ‘Just a minute,’ said Amy, ever the kind hearted one. ‘I don’t think we should leave the pirates tied up, no matter how wicked they’ve been. They could starve to death before anyone finds them. Remember the “Fairy Dust Seeker’s Agreement” told us to be kind to foe no matter what. Can we at least set one of them free?’

  ‘Well, I suppose so,’ said Jack. ‘Why don’t we set Noddler free? It’ll take him a while to undo the belt on Jukes, with those hands of his. And just to be on the safe side, we won’t leave them any weapons.’ He picked up the pistols and handed them to Peter. ‘I’ll take the cutlasses. We can dispose of them as we fly.’

 

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