We Float Upon a Painted Sea

by Christopher Connor

  The Captain entered the room. He was a large, muscular man with a grey beard and wore a green baseball cap with a GM logo emblazoned on it. After a brief smile, he said,

  “Welcome aboard. I'm Captain Waxy Gravy. I would have come to see you sooner, but there has been a development and we are holding a ship meeting.” The Captain’s looked into Bull’s face, noticing a disturbed expression. Andrew’s voice cut through the awkward silence. He said,

  “Very well Captain, anything we can do to help.” The Captain continued to look at Bull for a response. Finally, Bull said,

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what? ”

  “A voice.” The Captain put a hand on Bull’s shoulder and said,

  “Look son, you've been through a lot, I get that, but now, I really need your presence on the Bridge.”

  They followed the Captain out of their quarters to the Bridge where the crew had assembled. A hush had descended upon the room. Captain Waxy Gravy walked to his chair and stood with his hand planted firmly on the head rest. He cleared his throat and then said,

  “The Flower Child was on its way to St Kilda to disrupt a planned military operation to detonate a subaqueous nuclear device. It will not have escaped your attention, despite the news blackout, that our attempts to expose the MoDs hideous activities has been successful. The internet was awash with the story before a firewall was implemented last night.” A small cheer from the crew was cut short by the Captain holding up his hand.

  “Settle down,” he said. “The Government have used the current crisis with Russia as an excuse for this and many more draconian measures. Sadly, many of you will not recognise your homelands when you eventually return there. The threat of war tends to bring a temporary curtain down on human rights. We know the detonation went ahead as planned and since then we have lost contact with the Flower Child. Since Mac joined us, we now know that the ship was caught by the catastrophic wave generated by the explosion. We believe that any survivors have been detained by the Feds. Mac has also told us that before they picked up the lifeboat, they spotted a military vessel heading towards Rockall. We believe an oil exploration rig was commandeered as their command and control centre, but we can't presume they are planning to use it again for their next subterranean detonation.”

  A collective gasp emanated from the astonished crew and then unrest erupted. The pupils of Bull’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped when the Captain’s news settled in his mind. The Captain continued,

  “All satellite navigation systems are now under MoDs control, including GPS and network cells are restricted, so we are back to the dog days of carrier pigeons and Morse code. Word over the VHF radio, before it was jammed, was that the Feds are after us, but our priority is to find the Flower Child and her crew regardless of what state we find them in.” One of the crew raised his hand to ask a question. The Captain said, “Doobie, what’s on your mind, or can it wait until after the update.” A couple of crew members sniggered and as Doobie lowered his hand he said, “Its cool man, it can wait.”

  The Captain looked out to sea as if to draw inspiration. He sighed,

  “Today, the interference source was sabotaged or ecotaged by our new friends in the Earth Liberation Front. The ELF destroyed the MoDs listening station at Taransay.” The sound of groaning noises rippled around the Bridge. The Captain continued, “I know many of you are very much against their methods and believe them to be infiltrated by agent provocateurs, but desperate times have called for desperate measures and we are fully cooperating with them at this moment in time.” The Captain held out his hands to calm them. Bull remained silent. He surveyed the room to locate Andrew, but he was gone. “I’m not fully aware of all the details,” continued the Captain, “but the attack by the ELF resulted in no casualties. It’s a small victory, but with the Prophylaxis Trident satellites down and the MoDs pulse jamming temporarily halted, our adversaries are now operating practically blind. Our radar is up and running again, hence how Mac was subsequently able to pick up one of the Flower Child’s two lifeboats. Sadly, as you know no members of the original crew were onboard, but we did see some signs of life.” The Captain pointed towards Bull. Bull raised his hand and waved sheepishly. The Captain nodded at Bull.

  The Captain and his First Mate discussed plotting a course to St Kilda on a digital chart while the crew discussed the Captain’s update. “Alright, settle down,” said the Captain, “I know what you’re all feeling. I’m going through the same emotions, but we need cool heads at a time like this. I for one still believe that our comrades are alive and I’m prepared to go and save them and expose this atrocity. I can’t force any of you to come along with me. You need to make that decision for yourselves. If you decide this is not what you signed up for I’m sorry, but I can’t drop you off on the mainland as the Feds will be waiting there for us. I can set you down on one of the other islands and we will collect you when all of this is over. So if there’s anyone who doesn’t want to go any further raise your hands now.” There was a moment of quiet then Doobie raised his hand. The Captain said, “Ok Doobie, get your stuff packed…” Doobie replied,

  “No, I’m with you Waxy, I just wanted to ask a question.”

  “Questions at the end Doobie.” Doobie lowered his hand and turned his head to the source of giggling amongst the crew. He scowled. The Captain continued, St Kilda or Hirta to be more precise has a military comms base with a heli-pad and a number of unidentified cabins housing fuck knows what, but the last ELF intel would have us believe that the military have scaled down operations there. However, there is a forty mile exclusion zone around the island so we’re still expecting a hot reception.” The Captain put two hands in the air to enforce calm.

  “Yes, I know Theia,” said the Captain, “Hirta, has been repopulated since the fracking industry arrived. It has a port and a village so its unlikely the MoDs will do anything too hasty with so many witnesses. I propose that we plot a course for St Kilda Island and despite what they will throw at us, we’ll help our friends, record the evidence and expose this sordid operation to the world.”

  Doobie put his hand up again but this time he couldn’t remain silent. The Captain drew him a sombre look. “Ok, question time. Doobie, what’s on your mind?” Doobie said,

  “I’d just like to expand on what the Captain said about the prospect of a war? The Russians are pissed about something and their defences are on high alert. There’s talk of a potential conflict on the BBC World Service.” Doobie held up an old fashioned transistor radio. Someone shouted out,

  “The BBC is just a mouthpiece for the Government. I wouldn’t trust them as far as I could shit them!” A clique at the back of the crowd giggled again. One said, “You’re a total geek, Doobie.”

  “Maybe, but you’re a bunch of potheads,” replied Doobie, “there are still people broadcasting on medium and long wave and just as well since the satellites and the internet link ups have all gone cold. I knew this would happen. All I’m saying is, with the Russian’s testing the MoDs defences; we can expect no quarter from them.” The First Mate stepped forward and said,

  “Doobie, can I ask if there was any news from the BBC about the wave, MoDs involvement or casualties?”

  “There was a report about a tsunami in the North Atlantic but they said it was from seismic activity caused by fracking and that the MoDs were helping with the clear up operation. They also mentioned a cruise ship sinking and that there were a few casualties, but most of the passengers had been rescued.”

  “Thanks for that Doobie,” said the Captain, “I won’t shit you, there was a Russian surveillance ship hit by the wave, so this is going to be as dangerous as it gets. There’s a lot of folk pissed with the GM, particularly after the ELF attack at Taransay at a time when war is looking imminent. But we’re also pissed with them. They have decimated the environment, they have endangered life and they are bringing the world into an age of chaos and armed conflict. So what do you say, will we go and get our
comrades and bring them home? Will we go to St Kilda?” The crew offered a nervous cheer.

  Bull stood in silence, still dressed in his slippers and bathrobe. He was absorbed by a moment of clarity. Andrew approached him from behind and whispered in his ear,

  “What is up with you?” Bull shuddered and then he turned around. “Oh, it’s you, I was wondering where you had gotten to.”

  “You’ve been acting all strange of late, and that’s saying something because you’re a bloody peculiar bloke at the best of times.”

  “Go away, you’re not real,” exclaimed Bull.

  “What are you drivelling on about man?”

  “You’re not real. You’re a figment of my imagination. I must have invented you. It was the trauma from the accident or the isolation on the life-raft driving me mad, but you're not real.”

  “You’re not making any sense and didn’t you hear the Captain, this is a time to put a stout heart against a stey brae.”

  “What? At least on the life raft you were intelligible.”

  “It’s an old Scottish proverb my grandfather used to say. It means you need determination to climb a steep hill.”

  “Are there any Scottish proverbs about how to deal with hallucinations?”

  “No as a nation we have a poor record of dealing with mental illnesses, but a fine history of locking them up.”

  “Oh that’s brilliant. So you think I should be put in a straightjacket and thrown into a padded cell?”

  “Or back into the sea, it’s all the same to me.”

  “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

  “Look, when I was a child I had an imaginary pet which I used to constantly play with, but then I got bored with my imaginary pet and invented myself an imaginary friend, but he got bored with me, stole my imaginary pet and ran off with it. I know the symptoms…”

  “Go away, you’re embarrassing me. Everyone is staring at me wondering why I’m talking to myself.”

  “Everyone’s staring at you because you’re dressed in slippers and a bath robe and acting like a mental patient. Look, you’ve been through a lot over the last week and the stress, dehydration and hunger has obviously taken its toll. Have you been drinking sea water on the sly? I heard it can make you go loopy. The mind can play tricks on you, I should know. When I was in the Territorial Army...”

  “Just leave me alone! I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t see your reflection where you should be standing, so unless you are a vampire, you are a hallucination,” shouted Bull.

  One of the crew approached. He looked directly at Andrew and said,

  “You’re the cat that we rescued from the soup aren’t you? I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself, I’m Ty Kurt.” He extended his hand and gave Andrew a traditional Inuit handshake. Andrew leaned forward and pulled Ty Kurt towards him and rubbed his nose against the Inuit man’s nose. He then said,

  “My friend here isn’t feeling himself today.” He looked at Bull with a smug expression on his face. Bull looked at Andrew and said,

  “Vampire it is then.” Andrew’s face squinted. He said,

  “But its day time.” Bull walked back to his quarters, leaving Andrew standing in an uncomfortable silence, and then Ty Kurt said,

  “Hey man, we just shake hands these days. Only family members do the kunik on each other and that’s pretty much only amongst the elders now. I just thought you might want to know that before you try that one again.” Andrew walked out to the deck and stared at the sea.

  Chapter 25: Wilderness

  Bull was woken two hours later by McIntyre.

  “I have brought you a straightjacket,” said McIntyre, “The Captain has asked me to ensure that you put it on.” Bull sat up in his hammock, his eyes startled. McIntyre laughed and then said,

  “Only joking, it’s a survival suit. We’re drawing close to St Kilda.” Bull examined the suit. McIntyre said,

  “This thing can save your life. Don’t pull the inflation cord unless you have an accident and fall into the water. If you are wet the moisture will transfer body heat far more rapidly and result in hypothermia. Bull nodded laconically and replied,

  “Ok, I understand.”

  “To be honest you’re lucky I am onboard and have a big spare suit for you. McIntyre pointed to the attached boots and said,

  “I think this will fit you. Size thirteen if I’m not mistaken?”

  “How did you know?”

  “When you were sleeping, I lay down in front of you and placed my feet against yours?” Bull shivered and then said,

  “Really?”

  “No, not really, but it’s good to know how gullible you are. You’re about the same height as me so I took a lucky guess.” Bull looked worried. He rose from his hammock and biting his top lip he said,

  “The wave was a monster.”

  “I saw the destruction it caused to the west facing sides of Hirta and Soay. It was the like I’ve never witnessed before. Not in this part of the world anyway. They’ve been blaming it on the fracking activities out at sea. I live on Hirta, near the village and in my field of work I have lots of experience with North Atlantic waves, but this one was different. The military have been conducting operations in this area for well over a year and even the Coast Guard have been ordered to stay away. I said to myself, to hell with them and went there the following day and when I arrived one of the MoDs took a shot at me.” McIntyre stopped. There was a confused look in his eyes. Finally, he continued, “They are twitchy fuckers and will put a bullet in you quicker than you can eat a plate of sandwiches. Nico told me.”

  “I was famished.”

  “Look, the GM need to try and salvage their ship the Flower Child and find any survivors. They’ll record the destruction and use it as evidence. As soon as they do that they will return to the Mother earth and get you and Andrew home. You need to get checked out at a hospital.”

  “What about my job.”

  “The Commandant gave your job to a local lad who had returned from the mainland. I’m sorry. My protest fell on his thick deaf ears.”

  Bull closed his eyes and rubbed his head. McIntyre said,

  “Hey laddie, you can have my job. I won’t be going back.”

  “I’m not worried about the job right now. It’s something else. I once knew a woman called Saffron. She was in the GM and I fear she was on the Flower Child. I can’t be sure but I feel it in here.” Bull clutched his chest. McIntyre nodded. He said,

  “I know, she was your girlfriend.”

  “Do you know her?”

  “No, but you talk in your sleep.”

  “What? Ok, I get it. You’re pulling my wire again. We split up.”

  “You both wanted different things and began to drift, but there remains a fire that burns bright in your heart for her.” To Bull’s surprise McIntyre burst into a song, “Don’t cry young lovers, whatever you do. Don’t cry because I am alone. All of my memories are happy tonight. I have a love of my own.” Bull didn’t know where to look as McIntyre pirouetted around the cabin with the elegance of a dancing bear. Bull considered that he might be having another hallucination and then McIntyre stopped. “Sorry big man, you wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I am a big fan of musicals.”

  “It’s ok. Some one once told me, never judge a book by its cover.”

  “Saffron? Look, I’ll ask around for you and see what I can find out.”

  Bull smiled thinly and thanked him before he left. He looked down at the boots and then noticed Malcolm’s leather satchel. The memories of his death awakened and the guilt of abandoning him flashed in his mind. He felt his heart thump in his chest and beads of sweat form on the nape of his neck. He lowered his torso and fell asleep. When Bull arrived on deck, McIntyre approached him and said,

  “I am sorry big man but Ty Kurt said he knew your Saffron and that the last time he heard she was on the Flower Child.” Bull looked out to the sea and the approaching islands. Finally, he responded,

&nbs
p; “I take it you intend to set down on the island when we get there?” “That is the plan, but only if there’s no military presence.”

  “Is there any chance that I could go on shore with you? You can consider it my dropping off point. I’ll find my own way off the island. I need to get to that island and I’ll swim there if I have to.” McIntyre wondered, how many miles of sea he would swim for someone he loved. It depends how cold the sea was or what she was willing to do to reward my endeavours, he thought.

  “Ok,” he said, “But I need to clear it with the Captain first. If he says it’s fine then I’ll take you. Anything to mend a broken heart.”

  Andrew stood alone on the foredeck. He felt the bracing effects of the cold westerly on his face and was thankful for the survival suit that McIntyre had given him. He spent most of the journey to St Kilda in silence, gathering his thoughts and reflecting on the capsize of the Andrea Starlight, his fearful time on the sinking life raft, the cold, the dampness, the hunger and the death of Malcolm. He wondered if he would always rely on the prescribed pills from his psychiatrist. He had suffered a couple of episodes recently, but he had put this down to exceptionally stressful events. He examined the back of his hands and waiting for any signs of a tremble. Nothing. He put on his gloves and clutching the guard rail, he stared out to the horizon. The islands of Boreray, Hirta, Stac an Armin and Stac Lee emerged on the horizon shrouded in fog; together making the Islands of St Kilda. The Mother Earth circled the archipelago to the sound of screaming gulls echoing back and forth against the sheer cliffs like an unnervingly trumpet, hailing the ships arrival. Through the wisps of mist Andrew could see a ship lying capsized, the black waves pounding against the damaged hull. Bull joined Andrew on the foredeck and together they stared at the broken skeleton of the ship.