And once they were safely floating, Timothy shouted back into the sky, where Ata was circling high above their heads.
���The fish people came through, I see,��� he shouted.
���Yeah, there’s a ship, not too far off, just into the mist,��� Ata said.
���They need ships? Can’t they just swim?��� Barbara replied.
���Stop it… They’re not fish,��� Ata said, with a laugh that could be heard as he flew through the sky.
And he came swooping down near the sea, letting a ship’s rope that had been securely tied around his ankles drag in the water. This was the first time that either Barbara or Timothy had noticed the thick rope, because they’d been well occupied with other things, and the cord made splashing noises as it sliced through surface of the water.
���Barbara,��� he said sailing over their heads. ���Grab the rope on my next pass,��� he yelled.
Which gave her little time to prepare, as the rope came back around skipping on the waves, and she had barely enough strength in the muscles of her hands to be pulled out of the sea. But she held the coarse rope with a fiery sensation in her forearms as she was lifted out of the water, and pulled through the layer of sea mist on the near horizon, yelling out in an excited terror, until they were no longer seen, and eventually the noise of her screams faded out altogether.
Which left Timothy completely alone, feeling the waves gently rising and falling in the vacant silence of the open sea. And he was still tremendously excited by their good fortune, until something very eerie had happened that came to break apart the peaceful facade on the surface.
A bubble, a massive circular bubble floated upward from the sea depths, rippling the face of the water all around him, and he in its center. It was the sort of thing that might happen, if a giant creature from below had let out its breath and was slowly making its way to the top once again, to take in the ocean air.
And it was hard to tell exactly how Timothy had known it, though I suppose if you had lived in a world with actual dragons, as Timothy had done, then you will develop a keen sense to them, and similarly to all such dangerous beasts, in general. So that though it would be hardly the first thing that a native of Earth might think of, it was the very first thing on Timothy’s mind.
���Sea monsters,��� he thought.
���Hurry!��� he began to scream out into the fog, and continued to scream until his friend reemerged through the clouds, dropping down to sea level, just above the waves, and catching Timothy on the first pass.
���You thought I wouldn’t come back for you?��� Ata was saying, in response to all of Timothy’s still unexplained yelling.
���There was something in the water,��� Timothy answered, holding the ship’s rope so tightly that it wore deep indents into the palms of his hands.
And as they flew away, Timothy looked behind them, noticing a dark and jagged shaped shadow beneath the surface of the water, but only directly under the spot where he’d been floating and nowhere else. Yet before he could show Ata what he’d seen they broke through the layers of sea mist and cloud, and for a moment all the world around them was a white dampness.
*
�� A buoy is a type of float used for ship’s purposes, and is really quite versatile. For example a buoy might be used for: marking the deepest portion of a channel, or to mark the location of an underwater crab or lobster trap, or on small ships they can even be used to keep the hull of the boat from crashing against a dock.
Chapter Twenty
The Captain and His Ship
Before long, the blanket of their clouds broke apart into wisps, and then quickly dissolved into nothing; Which allowed the suns of that world to shine on them brightly.������ And below them, sparkling in a glorious light, they saw the golden painted ship’s bow (which is the front portion of a ship), and the pure white sails of the pride naval vessel of the Empire, and it glittered in the suns light.
Dipping from the sky they came down, skillfully landing upon the deck, and they were greeted, however rudely, by a crowd of sailors that had come up from the hull of the ship.
These men were all dressed in earth-toned robes, and had the best and most fanciful variations of facial hair you might imagine. They wore golden, brassy, and silver chains around their necks and wrists, and around each shipman’s waist was hung a curved saber sword, finely sharpened and glistening as well.
Their dress and appearance was regally elegant, although their tan faces were stern and unkind, as if by duty. And this caught Ata the most off guard, as the ship’s men surrounded them closely.
���They weren’t like this before,��� Ata said whispering to Timothy.
And as the swell of sailors pressed in around them, grabbing at the boys by their arms, they saw Barbara; She was caught up in the crowd, her wrists had been lashed together with rope and she looked disparaging, as you might be when you have hoped for something good, but instead have received the opposite.
And once the boys were caught (for after all, where would they run to in a world of all oceans), the ship’s captain spoke to them, but mostly to Ata, in a language that Timothy somehow vaguely recognized though he could not place where he’d heard it before.
This captain was a towering but slender man, with a distinguished wrinkled face, which had been made so from years of sailing; And by the light from their three suns, they saw that he had penetrating reflective eyes. He spoke dramatically in a language Timothy could not understand, though whatever it’d meant, it had seemed to be an accusation, of sorts.
And even so, not understanding what was said, Timothy, a prince of Earth, was nearly about to try his chances by communicating slowly in English that, they ���were peaceful��� and meant them ���no harm���. (Which as a side note I feel as if I should warn against, in the off chance that you, reader, may ever find yourself stranded in a foreign world where your native language is not spoken. And you should know that saying something dreadfully slow, even if it is something nice to say, does not make it more understandable, and at best is simply irritating for all involved.)
Howbeit, thankfully Ata saved him from this, when he turned to Timothy, saying softly, ���It’s sort of like… old Turkish, I think, or at least it’s similar enough.���
���Great. What has he said, then?��� Timothy asked, using his head to motion toward the captain, as they were wrapping bands of rope around his wrists.
Ata answered, ���Ok… If I’m right, and I think I am, he says, ‘You are sky people. You will climb down.’ ���
With that, Timothy gave Ata the most bizarre look. ���Are you sure that’s what he said?��� he asked, thinking that the captain’s face was so obviously angered and that that was such an odd thing to say.
Ata shrugged a little as he spoke. ���No… not really,��� he answered, as he began to mumble to himself in Turkish, until he was sure he’d had it right.
���Yes, of course…��� he began to say, ��� ‘You are sky people. You are enemies.’ That’s it. I’m sure of it.���
Which was certainly foul news for anyone just snatched out of the ocean, as they had been.
And after some bickering about whether it would help their cause, or whether it would be useful at all, Timothy finally convinced Ata to try to say in modern Turkish, that they were not their enemies; Though apparently it seemed to be far easier to go from ancient to modern language in this case, than in reverse.
Which led Ata to answer back to Timothy, somewhat snidely, and we should forgive him given the circumstance.
���See, I told you it wouldn’t work,��� he said as they were all being directed down narrow steps, into the lower decks of the ship.
���No harm trying, though,��� Timothy answered back.
And the group was brought down another flight of steep stair
s, and into a squatty room in the back portion of the ship (or in the stern of the ship, as they say). This prison room, where they were, had in it four open barred cells. It smelled musty, like old seawater, and was not at all as pleasant as the rest of the ship.
Speaking loudly, the captain directed his officers, so that the new prisoners were each filed into their own separate cell, and the slamming of their iron doors made a horrid metal clanging. Also, as it is impolite to do in most societies (and here also), all the prisoners were left with their hands bound up with rope; Yet at least they could still plainly see each other through their open barred cells.
And when the captain had given his remaining orders to the jail guard, the main door to the room was shut and bolted from the outside. The door slammed shut, and the prison room was at once very poorly lit. They were alone again, with the creaking sounds of the ship’s boards, as they plowed onward through a relatively calm sea.
And it is in times like these, that when you are finally given a chance to settle, you will realize how truly tired you are. So that after a few seconds, thoroughly exhausted, Timothy collapsed down upon the splintery wood bench in his cell.
���Not so bad,��� he said, mostly to himself. And then to the rest of the group, ���Better than floating in the ocean, right?��� he asked.
���Absolutely,��� Ata replied.
���In a heartbeat,��� Barbara answered, sincerely, as she was never fond of oceans to begin with.
*
���� Yes, ���suns��� as in plural suns, three to be exact. In that ocean world their days, which on average contained nineteen hours of daylight, were ruled by three separate suns (which had three separate names of course: Ayd��nl��k-the closest sun, and the two farthest ��� Huzur and Ak��am, the latter of which burned a continual blue-grey hue.) Also, none of them were as close to that world as our sun would be, but were all at just the right proportionate distances away, so that that world would not freeze into a ball of space ice, while still far enough away so that their seas would not be boiled into steam and be evaporated forever.
Chapter Twenty-One
A Newer Prison
Their first evening in the brig was discomforting, to say the least. Around nightfall, the warden came with a tepid bowl of porridge slop for each of them, and even so it was not until midmorning, the following day, when their cords were finally cut off their wrists, leaving illfully sore and rope burned skin, from a night of tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable spot on the sacks of hay that were left to each of them as an undesirable bed.
However, when they awoke they were greeted with warmer and newer porridge, though still the same meal and not especially appetizing, the first time, let alone for every meal of every day.
Yet, that was hardly the greatest of their worries, for if you know anything at all about globe travel, then you will know that this kind of travel is not normally indefinite.
So that, for every initial journey, someone or something must be reflected back to the globe when that time limit has been reached. And on this occasion, that person was Barbara, whom if you’ll remember was the first to touch the globe before they were transported from Gleomu, at the beginning of their journey. However, that globe was now at the bottom of an unmeasured ocean; Where further, as if that were not enough, there lurked some shadowy sea monster, which Timothy was certain of, although he had not actually seen the monster. Howbeit, that bit of awful information, he’d kept to himself, knowing how distraught she was; Thinking that being rocketed at any unknown moment into the depths of the sea, to be drowned alive, was already so horrible a thought, and he did not want to add to her concern.
Though if it could make it better, the hour in which she would be reflected into the depths of the sea was not completely unknown, in that Barbara was steadily convinced that she had seen a three, or a number containing a three, on one of the time dials before it had sunk below the waves.
And since it was likely not the minutes dial, or the hours dial, because they had, by that time, been locked into their cells for more than a day, then it was more likely to be three days, or thirteen, twenty-three, thirty, or so forth.��
For these reasons then, it was her third day in the ship’s prison that was the most awful: for one, as if to mimic the situation, that day there arose a storm, that blew and rocked the ship in its crashing waves. And all that day they felt the awful sway as the ship rose upon Poseidon-like swells, and they heard yelling and frightful commotion from the decks above them.
���We might all die here, anyway,��� Ata said eventually, after discussing what Barbara had to face.
Timothy glanced at Ata, while shaking his head, instantly knowing that such a statement was not at all comforting.
Barbara spoke up, sounding as if she’d been silently crying, but was now forced to defend herself.
���You might die, Ata,��� she said. ���But I am going to die. If not today,��� she sobbed, ���then ten days from now, or twenty, but within a year at the very most, and probably sooner.���
They rose again and fell in the waves, causing Timothy’s empty porridge bowl to roll on the floor, and through the bars of his cage.
���I’d go with you,��� he said, when they’d come down from the high waves.
Barbara was shocked, wiping her eyes.
���I wouldn’t let you,��� she answered.
���I know you wouldn’t,��� he said, after the vessel rose and fell over the crest of another mighty wave. ���But I would go… and even if you wouldn’t let me, I’d offer.���
She gulped a breath of weighty stoney air into her lungs, wiping her tears dry with the sleeve of her shirt.
���Thank you,��� she said.
And they all waited, hardly sleeping, until breakfast was served to them on the forth day, which they were all incredibly grateful for.
In the early morning hours of the fifth day, Timothy Hayfield was startled awake by the loud clanging of his cell door as it opened. Thick braided cords were again fastened around his wrists, and the cool sea breeze fanned against his skin, as all three prisoners were led up to the forecastle of the ship��.
The captain stood before them, though not facing them. They heard the noise of breaking waves against the bow, and off in the distance there was a sound that they had not heard since their arrival, and had not expected to hear, the sound of seagulls crying and of shorebirds.
From the horizon, columns of solid sunlight split through the cloud layers in shafts. And as the sea mist burnt away, a wide ray of light shone out across the sea, bringing sight to something so spectacular that none of the travelers would have ever suspected it.
A city, growing like a mountain out of the sea: It encompassed an area about the size of the isle of Manhattan, but was built up to be twice as tall. Indeed, it did look much like a mountain, filling half the sky, from the surface of the waves, reaching toward the clouds.
And as the light sparkled on the face of the city, the captain turned to them. He spoke, as if it were his duty to say such a thing, and like he would not have spoken thusly, otherwise. Stretching out his hand to this grand city on the waves, he spoke in his ancient language, and Ata translated as best as he could.
���He says, ‘This is your prison. It awaits you,’ ��� Ata told the group.
Though, if one should be imprisoned, what a glorious prison it would be.
*
�� Another reason why they had good cause to think that the ���three dial��� had been set for days, was because Matilde Wolcott, who’d last set the time dials in Gleomu, was for a long time in the habit of setting only the days dial, and would only rarely set the minutes or hours dials, her reasoning being that full days were always much more natural and easier to remember.
�� A forecastle would be the raised front portion on the top deck of
a ship. You’ve likely seen such a thing in old pirate films; In which there might be a lower portion in the center of a ship, called the main deck, and then stairs that lead up to raised portions in both the front and rear of the ship.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Empire City
A wondrous city, built to float upon the sea, in which everything needed for a prosperous civilization had been included: There were terraced fields and vineyards built along hillsides, and partly up the face of the island’s great mountain. There was also an area for forest, that could be chopped down, re-soiled, and carefully planted every several years, so that its citizens would have enough wood to build boats, and houses, and to expand the island city, and repair it piece by piece, so that it would always be growing and floating, above a vast and seemingly endless ocean world.
And so, it was on the morning of their fifth day, that the ship on which they sailed, named the Ismet, came into the central port of the island, raising its sails, and being towed into the harbor the rest of the way by a caravan of row boats.
From the deck of the Ismet, Timothy, Barbara, and Ata saw morning light glowing upon the nets of fishing vessels as they left the safety of the harbor to make their day’s catch. They saw traders and distant travelers arriving at the docks, unloading and selling their wares: their golden trinkets, and silverware made of real polished silver, their bundles of exotic dyed cloth, and other such things.
And once they had come to the naval docks, and the ship was tightly fastened, they were led down the gangway, and then through the spectacular, meticulously cleaned streets. They passed shops, and elegant homes, and farmlands, which for reasons of limited space were built with multiple layers, like open-faced buildings, or like modern car garages, with the heaviest cattle on the lower levels, and then mid-sized animals - sheep and goats, and lastly lighter poultry on top. It was all so ingenious, and breathtaking, that even though they were all still bound up as prisoners, the three travels couldn’t help themselves from being completely amazed.
The Histories of Earth, Books 1-4: In the Window Room, A Prince of Earth, All the Worlds of Men, and Worlds Unending Page 32