by Chanel Smith
Puzzled by the fact that there was no impact, he turned to glance back across the bridge toward the starboard side. A moment after he turned, he saw the arse end of the sub hunter steaming away from them, still traveling at full speed.
“Dawson!” he called out.
“Aye, Captain!”
“Go get Mr. and Mrs. Drew and bring them to my quarters.”
Chapter Fourteen
Aboard RAN Melbourne, early Tuesday morning
“We’ve reached LKC, Melbourne,” the voice of the communications officer on the Newcastle announced over the radio. “No lights, no debris. Nothing.”
“You had no contact downstream, Newcastle?” Lieutenant Commander Coventry responded.
“Negative, Melbourne.”
“How did you approach?”
“Standard,” was the reply.
“Copy, Newcastle.”
Coventry turned to look at Samuels and Ellington as he awaited their instructions.
Knowing that the Newcastle had approached from downstream toward the LKC, it should have tracked right along the Eucalyptus’ LKH. It would have worked back and forth across the Eucalyptus downstream path in a standard, zigzag pattern.
“Shall we order him to trail downstream?” Samuels asked. It was the typical call in such a situation, but their predicament was anything but typical.
“Do you want us to come about and trail downstream, Melbourne?” the com officer asked over the radio.
Captain Ellington shook his head.
“That’s a negative, Newcastle. Hold station and await orders.”
The bridge of the RAN Melbourne was breathlessly silent and all eyes looked toward Captain Ellington.
“This has gotten a little bigger than our group can handle and we really can’t do a lot before morning. Tell him to spiral and ping until the rest of the group arrives.”
Captain Ellington drained the last of his third cup of tea and wiped his face with a meaty palm. Samuels watched him, knowing that his CO was struggling with the same decision he’d had to make several hours before; waking his superior.
“Where are the Zees, LC?” Ellington asked.
“South and east of Fiji, Captain. Half a day to intercept a downstream line on LKH.”
“You planning on bringing in the Zees, Captain?” Samuels asked in a low tone.
“Not my call to make, XO,” Ellington growled. “But let’s go ahead and gather some intel to give to the admiral.”
Samuels took over. “What’s the composition of the Zees’ group, LC?”
“Five vessels in total,” Coventry replied. “Don’t have the exact vessels, but it’s Timmon’s group.”
The Zees, sometimes called Kiwis, were the RAN’s New Zealand neighbors. Since both were essentially independent operating naval forces of the Royal Navy of the United Kingdom, they typically used the same tactics and had the same ship configuration, with a few adjustments depending on what their mission called for.
Timmons had provided as escort for a survey vessel near the coast of Fiji and they were scheduled to remain on station and conduct drills. Their position placed them downstream of the LKC. Providing a net, so to speak, on the Eucalyptus’ LKH was a solid tactic, even when the mission was search and rescue instead of war.
“Tell me if I’m wrong, but there should be two frigates—one is an Anzac and the other an Adelaine—a minehunter, a patrol and the survey vessel,” Samuels said, watching Ellington’s expression as he spoke. Ellington nodded confirmation. He was the one who had briefed Samuels on the intel he had concerning fleet movements of the RNZN.
“That would be my estimate as well,” LC Coventry responded. He’d been briefed in the same briefing and wasn’t aware of any changes. “That is what the radar footprint shows.”
“You thinking of doing a grid with the sweepers, Captain?” Samuels asked. He knew that was what was in Ellington’s head, but it was better not to make assumptions, especially when dealing with Captain Ellington. The man could be a little harsh on a man who made assumptions. As XO, Samuels was expected to do the heavy lifting when it came to command, but to do that lifting according to how Captain Ellington would do it.
“Best way to find out what’s under the surface,” Ellington muttered.
They could assign two ships in perpendicular lines to each other or four ships to cover twice as much territory. “Two by or four by?”
“We’ll let the admiral decide that as well.” He rose up from his chair and started toward the exit, calling out orders as he went. “LC, get the admiral on the phone and route it to my quarters. XO, you have the con.”
The only sound on the bridge after the captain left was the sound of Coventry relaying the order to the officer in charge of telephone operations. Samuels waited a moment, drew in a deep breath and forced it out. “XO has the con. Get me an ETA to LKC.”
“Eighty minutes under current conditions,” an officer called out.
Samuel looked up at the large clock in front of him. It was still several hours to daylight and he doubted that anything was going to happen before then. With luck, he could get a couple hours of sleep before someone called him again. Since Captain Ellington was passing the decision making on up the chain of command, he had become unessential for the time being.
“Maintain speed and heading,” he ordered. He looked at the dregs in the bottom of the nearly empty coffee mug, felt the acid stir in his stomach and popped an antacid into his mouth. He’d wait a few minutes to see if any orders resulted from Captain Ellington’s call to the admiral. He doubted that there would be any that would change their own situation, but it was always a possibility.
His eyes were getting heavy and his rack was calling him with a loud, urgent voice as he waited, but he couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the Eucalyptus. If there had been some sort of explosion that would have instantly obliterated the ship, surely there would have been some debris in the area for the helo to encounter. If not the helo, then the Newcastle would have come up with something, even pick up the sunken vessel on its sonar. If some other problem had occurred, there would have been a distress call. None of those pieces of the puzzle were available, which, in essence, presented him a puzzle without any pieces to put together.
“Captain has finished his call, XO,” LC Coventry told him in a low tone. He was well aware that his XO was only waiting for that bit of information before leaving the bridge and returning to his quarters.
He considered asking Coventry if he could handle things from there on out, but decided that asking the question would plant a seed of doubt in the minds of the other officers. Following his captain’s example, he stood up. “Fine job, gentlemen,” he said in a stern tone. “You’ll get this situation solved come daybreak. LC, you have the con.”
“LC has the con,” Coventry responded as he watched Commander Samuels stride toward the exit of the bridge.
Chapter Fifteen
Bridge of the Eucalyptus, early Tuesday morning
When Ellen is right, she’s right. I suppose that I deserved an “I told you so,” but she wasn’t like that, though her quick glance at me and knowing smile when I opened the door to Dawson, who was inviting us to the captain’s quarters amounted to the same thing without the words.
About ten minutes before, I’d been close to “soiling my knickers,” as one of our hosts might say. Though I wanted to believe Ellen’s theory about the ship being held in an inter-dimensional vortex, it was only a theory and well beyond my need for substance. As she’d remained calm and watched, I’d braced for impact and then watched in awe as the ship passed right on through the Eucalyptus.
“How did that happen?” I asked.
She shrugged her shoulders, smiled and got up to find her shoes. “You might want to put your shoes on.”
I didn’t ask a question out loud, but my wrinkled brow did and she answered it.
“We’re going to see Captain Norris.”
“Are you sure we should
press our luck that way?”
“We’re not pressing our luck. We’re about to be invited.”
Strolling down the hall behind Dawson, I was considering how lucky I was to be married to a woman of such boundless gifts. Sure, I made contributions to our partnership, but she was the real brains and talent behind it all. Besides that, she knew how to take care of my other needs as well. With this seemingly new manifestation of her skill, I was beginning to wonder if she didn’t have telepathic abilities that went beyond what she let on.
“How do you want to present this?” I asked, realizing that it wouldn’t be long before we’d be arriving in the captain’s quarters and we hadn’t discussed our plan.
“I would say that we have some pretty substantial proof to support my theory now, so I’d like to establish a timeline of events and see if I can pinpoint any particular trigger, which might lead us to the source.”
“Do you think that Pharaoh was the trigger?”
“I do, but there is a time disparity that I need to get a handle on.”
I was about to ask another question, but we had arrived at the door of the captain’s quarters and it was show time, so I didn’t.
“Mr. and Mrs. Drew, Captain,” Dawson announced as he pushed open the door and waved us into the room.
Ellen walked in with confidence. She had taken charge of the situation already. I decided that I needed to catch up to her a little bit or, at least, make it look like I knew what the hell was going on.
“Perhaps I owe you two an apology,” Captain Norris growled. It was obvious that he wasn’t comfortable with being forced to admit that we two nut jobs had been right.
“No need for that,” Ellen beamed. “These things take some getting used to, don’t they, Mon?”
“From experience, I have to admit that sometimes you have to see it to believe it,” I said, backing her up.
“Well, I’ve seen it. Now, tell me what the bloody hell I’ve seen,” Captain Norris said in the same tone he would use to give orders to his crew.
“As I mentioned earlier, we crossed the veil between the physical dimension that we know and the spiritual dimension of which most of us are ignorant. It’s somewhat difficult to explain, but it isn’t a physical shift, it’s a shift of spirit or essence. Our senses are still taking in the physical world as normal, but our physical presence is no longer in the physical world.”
“So, that’s why we could see the helo and the sub hunter, but it couldn’t see us?” Captain Norris asked.
“That is correct. And also why there was no collision. We’re here, but not in the physical world.”
“So, how do we get back?” Captain Norris didn’t fully understand, but he didn’t care to. He was the sort who was used to acting instead of theorizing about things. Like me, he was a man who thrived on substance and he needed a solution. Luckily, he was smart enough to think outside the box and consider an uncomfortable possibility.
Remembering what Ellen had said about wanting to construct a timeline, I decided to jump into the conversation. Remembering having seen the captain’s expression when he was called away from the ballroom just after midnight, I knew right where to start. “Maybe you should tell us what it was that drew you away from the ballroom?”
“That was when I was told that we had lost communications and radar and that the ship was dead in the water,” he responded curtly.
“That was a little after midnight and right after your confrontation with the man who called himself Pharaoh, as I recall,” I said. I tried not to make it sound like an interrogation, but old habits die hard.
“That is correct.” I could see that a light suddenly went on inside Captain Norris’ brain. “You don’t think that nut job has anything to do with this, do you?”
“It’s a possibility,” Ellen mused. No doubt she recognized the fact that we were classified in the exact same manner of the man who had been causing a disturbance since he’d entered the ship. “But I need to know some other factors and what took place.”
“As I said, we had lost communications, radar and control of the vessel. We were dead in the water without power to any of our instruments.”
“But the lights were still on and the band went right back to playing. There wasn’t even a flickering,” I marveled. “How is it possible that the ship lost power?”
“We have a backup system that detects a change in power and instantly kicks into working on reserve power. It’s essential that it happens instantaneously so that none of our instruments have to be rebooted. I can’t explain the engineering behind it, but it certainly works wonders, because the power had gone out at midnight and none of us saw any change, except those on the bridge, of course.”
“So, when the power did go out?” I asked.
“That was when our reserves were spent.”
“‘My name is Pharaoh and I am taking over command of the ship,’” Ellen muttered in a low tone.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Drew?” Captain Norris asked.
“It’s what he said, what Pharaoh said. ‘My name is Pharaoh and I am taking over command of the ship.’”
“It was utter nonsense from a madman, of course,” Captain Norris responded.
“‘I already have,’” I added, recalling the exchange. “He said that he was going to take command of the ship. You asked if he intended to hijack it and he said that he already had.”
Chapter Sixteen
Bridge of the Eucalyptus, early Tuesday morning
Ellen, myself and the captain were following Dawson through the maze of corridors on the way to the brig when Captain Norris presented his question. “What reason would the man have for hijacking the vessel and taking it into another dimension? I can’t believe that I’m acknowledging all of this like it was an everyday occurrence.”
“It’s not an everyday occurrence for you, but it is today’s occurrence,” Ellen responded. “Monty and I, essentially, do the same thing that you do every day. We solve problems for people. In so doing, we investigate the facts, accept whatever we find and then develop a solution based on those facts. We don’t question the source of those facts; well, not both of us anyway.”
As she said the last, she looked at me out of the corner of her eye and smiled. She might as well have screamed a lecture concerning my need for substance in that single glance. Though it wasn’t a major, life-changing moment for me, it did penetrate through my thick skull. Sure, we were to make an attempt to gather concrete data about the paranormal phenomenon in the hope that it might prove useful in the future, but our real mission was to solve the problem. I rewarded Ellen with a “message received” nod.
“You were right, Babe,” I grinned, knowing that her mind would be going in a different direction when she heard those words, though I had an entirely different idea for them in mind. “They do have jails on cruise ships.”
We arrived at the brig and Dawson knocked on the window. “Can you buzz me in?” he called out, not thinking about the fact that without power, the door had to be unlocked manually. Fortunately, there was a battery operated keypad as well as an actual bolt to which a key fit.
As I heard the digits being pressed into the keypad to unlock the door, I was suddenly reminded of the fact that paranormal entities sometimes sucked up battery energy as well. “Captain, do you have locks and keys to all of the doors on this ship?”
“We do, why?”
“Because it is very likely that the batteries in all of the keypads will be drained of their energy soon.”
“How do you know this?”
“From experience, Captain. Sometimes we go through a couple changes of batteries in our equipment when we get into a particularly nasty paranormal situation.”
Both Dawson and the captain stared at me for several beats before stepping through the door and into the brig.
“Dawson,” Captain Norris ordered. “Go find Billings and tell him to start getting keys passed out to passengers and crew.”
“Aye, Capta
in,” Dawson replied, eager to be away from the rather peculiar conversation that he’d been listening to over the past half hour.
“Where’s that nut job that we put in here just after midnight?” Captain Norris asked.
“Cell 3, Captain.” The jailer lowered his tone and spoke softly. “I don’t think he’s all there, Captain. He has spoken since they brought him in here. He just sits in the corner, not even on the cot, and stares straight ahead with his lips moving.”
“That is odd behavior,” Captain Norris responded.
“That’s not the oddest part,” the jailer continued. “Sometimes he goes into a fit of laughter, which seems to come from out of nowhere and then, worse yet, he starts rolling around on the floor like he’s wrestling with someone.”
Captain Norris didn’t respond. He turned toward Ellen and raised an eyebrow.
“Not uncommon in cases of possession,” she responded to the unasked question. “What’s his name?”
“He’s been calling himself Pharaoh,” the jailer responded.
“Not the name of the spirit which is possessing him. What is the passenger’s name?” Ellen asked.
The jailer stared at her for several seconds, trying to decide if he’d heard her properly.
“You do have his name don’t you?” Captain Norris asked.
“Um, uh, yes. Yes, I do, Captain,” he replied. “According to the ship’s manifest, his name is Edmund Hillary.”
“Another bogus name, no doubt,” Captain Norris groused.
“It checks out with his identification, Captain,” the officer responded.
Captain Norris sighed heavily. “This entire situation is deteriorating rapidly.”
“Just let me speak to him,” Ellen responded. “I’ll get this sorted out.”
“I hope so. There are more than 2,000 crew and passengers that are depending on you,” the captain responded.