“I’ve no scone wo’ yae said,” said Will. “‘cept aboot mindin’ yae ‘n’ Miss Lambert. I agree! How ‘boot yae, Kev?”
“Agree,” said Kevin.
Castillo shook both their hands, smiling. Lambert glared at him.
• • •
That evening the entire crew of Kansas assembled. All 113 men and women. They filled the messdeck and the adjoining wardroom and the galley and both passageways. People were crammed into every adjoining space, even the food pantries. There were five men sitting on the steam tables and four were on the floor crammed under tables. The passageways were full in both directions. Every man on the ship was within earshot, but Castillo decided to use the overhead address system anyway. This was an important meeting.
He squeezed his way through the crowd to the front of the messdeck. There was applause when he entered. He held his arms up in acknowledgement and smiled so broadly his chubby cheeks eclipsed his eyes. They were mere slits.
He wore a small headset with an outrigger microphone. He touched a switch on his belt and said, “Test, test, test.” His voice spoke loudly from over the speakers in the ceiling.
“I don’t know,” he began, “how to thank you guys for getting me back from the bad guys. I’m forever grateful, and I could never have asked for a better crew. And I’m going to do my best for you.”
“But,” said someone, “we didn’t get you all back, skipper.”
“You got most of me back,” said Castillo, holding up his bandaged hand. “I never used these fingers much anyway.” There was laughter. “We have two guests aboard.” He indicated Will and Kevin sitting nearby. “Stand up, boys.” They got to their feet and Will waved. “This is Will and Kevin Kincaid from the village of Glasbergen. Did I get that right, guys?” Will nodded, smiling. “They’re going to help us with procuring food and other supplies from the local community.”
Castillo shifted gears and his expression became serious. “Those were the best years of our lives! How often have we heard that expression? And just exactly when were the best years of our lives? Well, we don’t know, of course, until our lives are almost over, and then we can look back and say, ‘The best years of my life were those I spent in college. Or those raising my children. Or those I spent in Europe.’“ He took a deep breath before he continued. “We are facing a situation no other Navy ship has ever faced before to my knowledge. We’re cut off from the world we once knew and I’m afraid there’s no way back. And although we’ll never see our loved ones again, we can take solace in the fact that they’re alive and living their lives somewhere, happy hopefully.” A tear formed in his eye and began to roll down his cheek. “Our mission is now one of survival. There’s a strong temptation to look back and say, ‘those were the best years of our lives.’“
Castillo looked around the room at all the hopeful faces and caught Lambert’s eye. “But as a friend reminded me recently, we’re not at the end yet! It’s too early to quit. Our loved ones would want us to go on. We are family now. The Kansas family. And like family’s everywhere, we are going to give thanks and celebrate and mourn together. It won’t be easy surviving in this new world. The struggles we face will try us and cause us to despair but they will also bond us and make us stronger. We will work through our problems and look to the future. But…beyond being a family, we are also a culture. We’re the most advanced culture with the most incredible technology on the planet. We’re the only ones in this world who’ve ever heard of Starbucks, the Internet or the Beatles. We should try to preserve our culture as long as possible, although that is going to become increasingly more difficult.”
Castillo extracted a tissue from his khakis and wiped at his eyes. “Our world is powered by a nuclear reactor. It has enough fuel for 30 more years. That seems like a lot, but 30 years will go by before you know it. We need to start making plans now. We need to establish a base of operations somewhere and we have the means to go anywhere in the world. I’ll be taking suggestions and then we’ll take a vote.” Castillo pulled a piece of notebook paper out of his breast pocket and glanced at it. “Oh yes. I encourage you all to read. We have a lot of ereaders and an ebook library with almost a million books in it. The Navy in their attempt to determine reading tastes, threw in the towel and gave us just about everything. Storage is not an issue with ebooks. We have books on farming, hunting, horticulture, carpentry. We have medical texts, engineering texts, music books. Pick a subject that interests you, preferably something that will help us set up a thriving new colony and start reading everything you can on it, and take good notes. When the power goes out in 30 years, we will lose this knowledge base.”
Castillo looked at his notes again. Then he turned to the Kincaid boys. “Will, Kevin what do people here eat normally?”
“Uh…” Will scratched his arm and twisted his face in thought. “Krip, ‘aggis, cabbage, poots, beetroot, beef.”
“Condus and tack,” added Kevin and Will nodded in acknowledgement.
Castillo shook his head in bewilderment and there were a few chuckles. “I guess I asked for that. What we’re interested in is vegetables. You mentioned cabbage and beetroot. We want to get some of that and whatever greens you eat. For meat we’re going to try hunting.”
“‘ahr bae ‘art and ‘are near ’ere,” volunteered Will. “Mae ‘n’ Kev could show yae. But wae dinna ‘ave ahr ‘untin’ bows.”
“That’s okay we have something better than hunting bows. We would appreciate your assistance however in locating game Chief Brown is heading that group and he’ll also need help with the transporting and butchering of the game. I’m hoping we’ll have enough to feed the boat and some left over to trade in the market for vegetables. We’re figuring this out as we go.”
Castillo looked down at his notes again. “Uh…Lieutenant Tanaka is forming a garbage detail. He may recruit some of you to help with that. And…what else…oh yes…if any of you go ashore and we have a situation that requires a hasty departure, we will sound the ship’s horn. When you hear the horn, you’ll have 15 minutes to get back. So if you go ashore, stay within earshot of the boat.”
Castillo folded his notepaper and stuck it back in the pocket of his khakis. “Are there any questions?”
Lieutenant Guerrero asked, “Are we no longer concerned about our footprint in the event timeline?”
Castillo’s forehead furrowed and his lips formed a tight thin line. “Yes and no. I think we need to be concerned about the Star Trek prime directive and all that, but the only way to reduce our impact on these people to zero or to negate our impact in history is to make this ship and her crew disappear off the planet. I don’t know how to do that. And I don’t think you good people deserve that. You deserve the opportunity to live out peaceful fulfilling lives…as citizens in a new society. We’ll have to carefully plan each encounter with the locals. As I already said, we’re figuring this out as we go.” Castillo looked around the room. “Any more questions?”
After a few seconds, a young man said, “If we’re to become a village, we’re pretty lopsided gender-wise. Not enough women.”
There were some murmurs. “A good point! A very good point!” answered Castillo. “We’ll have to fix that, but short of abducting a boatload of women, I’m not sure how just yet.” He heard Lambert giggle. “But I’m open to suggestions.” He looked around. “Any more questions?”
“How fair, sahr?” asked Will Kincaid, a frown on his features.
“Sorry. How fair?”
“How fair from the…fuchore ‘ave yae come?” He said the word future as if it were a foreign concept.
“Oh! Well, let’s see.” Castillo put a finger to his lips, then, “Let me put it into perspective for you. If you had children and they grew to adulthood. And they had children and grew to adulthood. You would have about 13 generations added to your family before you reached our time. That’s about 426 years.”
“426 yahrs! Hell’s ‘ammer!” Will looked to Kevin, astonishment on both thei
r faces.
• • •
The following morning there seemed to be a change in the atmosphere aboard Kansas. Crew members walked with a purpose and greeted each other with genuine warmth. They all seemed to understand that they were in this thing together…for the long haul. This was not a short term commitment, and it was not going to be easy, but they had a challenge facing them and they would not shy from it. Their captain was back and they had a new confidence. The same kind of confidence a championship team has when they know they have all the talent in the league.
Maria Guerrero decided they needed to act more like a family so she organized the very first Kansas family activity. They had a picnic on the beach. Kansas’s two 15 foot inflatables acted as ferries shuttling crewmen to shore. Once on shore they spread sheets and drop cloths and made tuna salad sandwiches with the last of their canned tuna. They drank iced tea and when one crewman produced a soccer ball, they erected a makeshift volleyball net between two trees and chose up sides. By the time Castillo arrived the sun had come out and many men stripped off their shirts and enjoyed the feeling of the sun on their backs and chests. Castillo heard something from his crew he had not heard in a long time. Laughter.
He walked down the beach which was not composed of sand, but fine smooth brown and gray pebbles. Small gray and yellow birds chirped greeting and watched him from adjacent trees. He saw Susan Lambert and Lauren Gastmeyer walking barefoot down the sunlit beach, ducking an occasional overhanging branch. Every few feet they would stop, stoop and examine something.
“Hello, ladies!” called Castillo, coming up from behind.
“Hi, Don,” said Lambert shading her eyes.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” remarked Gastmeyer.
“It is. What are you finding?”
“We were looking for shells,” replied Lambert. “We found a few. See?” She held out a hand with a few nut-colored periwinkles.
“Good ones,” said Castillo.
“And we found these things. Not sure what they are.” Lambert held out some flat white bony-looking objects about the size of a cell phone.
“I don’t know,” said Castillo picking up one and turning it over.
“Norm would probably know. He knows everything,” said Lambert. “He wasn’t able to come.”
“How’s his leg?” asked Castillo.
“Bad. I don’t know if he can even walk anymore.” The wind blew her sandy hair into her eyes, and she finger-combed it back into place.
“It’s kind of ironic,” said Castillo, “that the smartest guy on board is also our least capable physically.”
“Yes.” Lauren Gastmeyer walked on ahead, Lambert fell back and walked side by side with Castillo. “Have you noticed the change in the crew?” said Lambert. “It’s just like someone flipped a switch.”
“They just needed to see there’s a tomorrow for them,” said Castillo. “I showed them a future. The same as you did for me.” He turned to Lambert and a lump formed in his throat. “I’ve never properly thanked you, Susan.” He looked down at her small bare toes, then back up. “I was in a…lonely place. The future for me looked…pretty grim, and I didn’t want to go on. I was weak, but you found me in the darkness and gave me strength. You led me out of my emotional wilderness. Thank you, Susan! That’s twice you’ve rescued me. You’re a true friend.”
Lambert chuckled softly, her bright eyes watery and sad. “The strength was all yours, Don. I just gave you a gentle shove.”
There was a moment shared between them that did not require words. They walked down the beach watching shore birds running in the shallow water, occasionally dipping their beaks. Then they were both distracted by the laughter of a woman coming from just beyond the bend. It put Castillo in mind of a whinnying horse. One of those small cute miniature horses with beautiful mane and tail. When they came to the bend, they saw a smiling Crystal McConnell laying on a blanket with someone. She punched at him playfully.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard Crystal laugh before,” said Castillo.
“She doesn’t laugh very often,” offered Lambert.
Castillo shaded his eyes trying to see who was with her. A figure waved at them. It was Mason Taylor. Castillo and Lambert waved back.
“There’s something there,” said Lambert. “She started asking about him a few days ago. You know. ‘Is Commander Taylor married? Is he seeing anyone? How old is he?’“
Castillo thought about this. “But I thought you and Crystal were…” He stopped, realizing that he had already gone too far with the thought, and there was no taking it back.
“Crystal and I were what?” asked Lambert.
“Nothing! I was just…” Castillo felt tongue-tied.
Abruptly it dawned on Lambert what he was trying to say. “You thought Crystal and I were lovers?” Her eye brows flew up, her eyes bulged and she began to laugh. It was a hearty laugh and it seemed to get the attention of everyone within ear shot.
Castillo colored and said, “You two are always together, so I just thought.”
She stopped walking and placed fists on her hips. Her body language spoke volumes. “I was thinking the same thing about you and Commander Taylor,” she said. “You two are always together too. Anything going on between you two?”
Castillo scratched at the bandage on his left hand, then mumbled, “I’m a pig.”
She stabbed him in the chest with her finger. “And don’t you forget it.” Castillo winced and grabbed her finger. “Oh! I’m sorry.” Lambert’s face tightened. “I forgot about your wounds. Did I hurt you?”
“No. Just my self image. I’ve always thought of myself as being objective and professional. Ouch!”
• • •
Chief Brown recommended going at night on their hunting expedition. They would have an advantage with their infrared vision and rifle scopes. Brown hand-picked two men and the three of them along with the Kincaid brothers and Crystal McConnell went ashore. McConnell handled the sniper rifle and Brown carried a SEAL MP-5 assault rifle. The Kincaids proved their worth as guides by locating several groups of deer. When the night was over, they had taken five deer. The Kincaids proved their worth again as experts at cleaning and butchering the animals. They ferried the meat back to Kansas and loaded it into Kansas’s cold storage. Chef Jonesy was very pleased with the quality of the venison. He decided to keep half of it. They would trade the other half.
The Kincaids were farm boys and had been working on a dairy farm outside of Glasbergen. As such, they knew where the best markets were and helped the Kansas crew get their venison to market. They borrowed a horse and cart and took two hundred pounds of venison in to the town market. Castillo wanted to send an armed escort with them, but he thought it would attract too much attention, so he equipped them with remote comm units. They returned with several hundred pounds of vegetables. There was a root vegetable called crall which looked like a turnip and there were garden greens called eggweed and a large wheel of cheddar cheese and a wooden drum of flour and a keg of ale. Their trip proved so successful, they decided to repeat it the following day. This time they returned with squash, tea, milk, eggs and a keg of whiskey.
Castillo had mixed feelings about the alcohol being brought aboard. He knew it was inevitable in a society to have social drinking, but he would like his crew to stay sharp in case they needed to do some critical maneuvering or other functions. He decided it would be okay for those not actually on watch to sample the ale and whiskey, but only on the messdeck. No alcohol in the berthing or work spaces. Everyone agreed.
They mounted two more hunting parties and brought back deer, rabbit and some large crane-like birds. They were getting better at stalking and bringing down game. Castillo was beginning to feel his crew could do anything. Maybe we should try fishing, he thought. He’d seen fishing boats out on the firth. He ordered Lieutenant Anderson to come up with a plan.
He encountered a crewmen carrying a tray down the hallway one afternoon. On it he had a large
bowl of stew, buttered biscuits and a glass of ale.
“Holy Mackerel! Who is it getting room service?” asked Castillo.
“This is for Mr. Bloomberg, sir.”
“Oh, I see.” Castillo hadn’t seen Norm Bloomberg in a while. “Give it to me. I’ll take it to him.” He took the tray down the passageway to Bloomberg’s stateroom. Bloomberg was reclining in his rack and reading as always. Castillo rapped on the door frame. “Hi, Norm. How’s the knee.”
“Don’t ask,” replied Bloomberg grimacing. “I can still manage to make it to the head, but that’s about it. I don’t know what will happen when I can’t even do that anymore.”
Castillo sat the tray next to Bloomberg’s rack, and regarded him. A smaller man would be able to get around by hopping on one foot, but a man Bloomberg’s size probably couldn’t.
Bloomberg promptly sampled the stew. “This chef of yours, Jonesy, is amazing. You could give him possum and he would turn it into cordon bleu!”
“He’s a culinary artist.”
“How’s your hand, sir?”
“Oh, as good as can be expected I guess.” Castillo had his bandages off. He held up his left hand and displayed the two stubs where his pinkie and ring fingers should be. They had been cut off between the hand and first knuckle of each finger. The phantom pains were still strong and at times he could feel ants crawling on the missing fingers. “Why would a person do something like that?”
“Part of the national mentality, I suppose,” replied Bloomberg.
“Say again?”
“You have to remember the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing right now.”
“The Spanish Inquisition?”
“Yes, remember that from the history books? It was established by Queen Isabella and Pope Sixtus, the fourth. Originally it was intended to find Jews and other non-Christians, but expanded to include all non-Catholics. Spain tortured and killed thousands during this period. They were a very paranoid culture. They didn’t trust anything or anyone who wasn’t Catholic. They were determined to root out all enemies of Spain.”
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