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Illustration for "QUEEN ELEANOR'S LAST VOYAGE TO THE DARKNESS." Created by the author. Copyright © 2011-2025 Stephen J. Williams. |
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| Episode may contain the following warnings: |
“All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical figures, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Author’s notes about this episode:
[1] A little extra warning: this episode contains strong language and some sexual references.
[2] The original Title for this episode was: ‘THE WRECK OF THE OLD QUEEN.’
[3] A ‘Jericho Tibbs’ original story.
[4] "QUEEN ELEANOR'S LAST VOYAGE TO THE DARKNESS.” This episode, was conceived and written by the author. Copyright © 2011-2025 Stephen Williams. No reproduction of any part without written permission. The episode illustration is an original drawing created by the author. It is copyright ©2011 - 2025 Stephen Williams. No reproduction of any part without written permission.
[5] There is an 'ALEXANDRA' series adult extended version currently available entitled:
"ALEXANDRA AND THE OLD QUEEN ELEANOR MYSTERY."
Episode details:
Concept date: 22nd May 2017
First published: 1st November 2017
Status: COMPLETED & PUBLISHED.
Location: BOOK SERIES 2 – EPISODE 2.
Revisions: 6 [last revised March 2019]
Version: Final.
Published Episode No. 14
Previous episode: “Fractures in time.”
Next episode: “Professor Jack Dawes lost expedition to the Amazon’s subterranean world.”
Age recommendation: 15+
Average reading time: Approximately 75 Minutes.
Angel-in-charge: Margret
Team Assigned: Team 74
Mission: 11 - 200021 - 5 – 1969
Episode:
1. THE PRESENT [1969] - APPARENTLY....
The little boat had been drifting for some days upon the slow current of the warm Indian Ocean. The stern had a loose and flapping piece of dirty canvas slung across it, shielding the sole occupant a little from the hot sun. Well, that wasn’t quite accurate; whilst ship’s cook Franklyn Moneypenny was apparently the sole human survivor from the wreck of the Queen Eleanor, there was someone else sharing the small boat with him: ‘Nelson’ the old Queen’s ships cat lay sleeping under the canvas too – curled up by Frankie’s head – the pair had served on several ships, over the years they had been shipmates and now lay sleeping under the salt encrusted canvas together.
Frankie stirred slowly and lifted the canvas just enough to peer at the
skyline; nothing but blue sky and green sea; no birds, planes or ships in sight.
He fumbled in his trousers pockets and found the little fob-watch, which had
been given to him by his father, the day young Frankie left for sea. He blinked
several times as he focused upon the time: 6.35, he wondered if that was PM or
AM. He groaned and turned upon his back, staring up at the filthy grey canvas
and wondered how many days the pair had drifted.
The fat ginger cat also stirred and pushed himself against Frankie’s
outstretched hand, as if saying ‘Hello’. Frankie managed a grin and stroked his
little friend gently. “Time for a little water my old friend.” He whispered
with cracked and dry lips. He pulled the large china flagon from the old crate
stored under the seat and pulled the cork, sniffing at the spout and gently
swirling the jug. The little splashing noise made Frankie smile; they still had
some water left – not much now, after drifting for about a week he quickly
reasoned – then lifted a shallow saucer from the crate and with great care
poured a little water onto it. “He we go; share and share a like shipmate.” He
spoke softly and watched the cat lapping up his ration of the precious liquid.
Frankie took a shallow swing from the jug and rubbed a little upon his lips.
"Good job I was re-stocking this fucker when the storm hit. Now, that was
a piece or luck; or was it?"
He now faced the real awful prospect of dying very slowly of starvation
and/or perishing of terrible thirst. He stared at the gently rippling waves and
knew when the time comes, that he would slip quietly over side and let the
ocean wash away his misery; for eternity. He shook the thoughts away and tried
to think positive and happy thoughts. He actually smiled and said to Nelson the
cat; "Still, do you remember that lady who always patted you? Christ, if
I'm about to die - quite horribly - then I'll just think about her and the
fucking ladder!"
Franklyn leaned back and recalled that wonderful moment, when he left the galley to throw the 'slopes' bucket over the side and stepped out on deck, just in time to see the gorgeous lady passenger climbing a ladder up to the Fore deck [where the any passengers took their recreation] and he watched her go up the ladder. She was wearing a tight-fitting t-shirt and small blue mini skirt. He watched and thoroughly enjoyed the view of her small panties, bum and crotch. But the best bit was when she looked down at his happy face and just smiled, saying quietly; "You get some wonderful views from up here."
He actually laughed, as he recalled removing his hat and replying: "You get some bloody terrific ones from down here as well!" Franklyn ran both hands over his face and spoke to the cat; "What a fucking woman. She knew exactly what I meant and just smiled. Then she climbed the ladder real slow; like she was letting me have a real good look at heaven on earth. She stopped at the top and shouted down for me to tell young Hugh to bring her some cold lemonade. Her bloody panties couldn't hide her big fanny and there it was; staring at me as I looked up. For fuck sake her old man is one lucky bastard!"
Franklyn was still smiling when he noticed the sun was low on the horizon and now knew his old watch was showing 6.35 PM. “Bake during the day and shiver through the night!” He muttered and cussed several times, searching in the crate for a full tin of anything; he found beans [again!] and started to open it with the short little knife that he always carried in his boot.
“Good job you’re not fussy Nelson; otherwise, you’d go hungry around here.” Frankie grinned at the cat sitting at his feet, who watched him break open the tin and place a spoonful on the saucer, which Nelson scoffed down leaving not a trace of beans or sauce. Frankie ate from the tin and stared across the gently moving waves at the sunset. "Some fuckers would pay a small fortune to see this - bloody tosser's - I'd sooner have the lady and the ladder any day!" He chuckled and lifted his leg slightly and farted loudly, adding; "Fucking beans!" The cat moved back under the tarpaulin and napped; well away from Frankie's rancid arse.
“Rescue or rain.” He said softly and washed the empty tin with seawater and
placed it, upturned, with several others in the bow. “Rain or fucking rescue.”
He repeated and pulled the other piece of dirty canvas about his shoulders and
watched the sun sink.
Frankie smiled at the big cat, which now curled into a ball by his legs and drifted off to sleep. Leaning back against the stern’s rudder-handle, Frankie again slipped into thoughts and half-dreams about old Queen Eleanor’s demise. But the ladder and the woman's panties and peach shaped bum soon dominated his dreams and he really didn't mind a bit.
2. FOUR WEEKS EARLIER....AND DEFINATELY 1969.
Captain Cole Ward read the instructions from Head Office with some
amusement and frankly, a little amazement, “Three bloody passengers on a
wrecking job; are they nuts?” He asked the grinning Boson who shook his head
and wiped his face with a rag, then placed his cap back on. “Don’t know about
that Skipper, but the buggers have turned up and young Robert’s is escorting
them from Gate 4. They’re a husband and wife with her young brother in tow.”
“What the fuck are they travelling with us for?” Captain Ward re-read his instructions, then shoved the paper into his shirt pocket and sighed loudly. “Fuck.” He added and pulled a packet of Marlboro from the same pocket and pushed a cigarette into his mouth. He offered the Boson one, which was gratefully accepted, and they shared the same match.
“According to Doris in the office, the wife is recovering from some major illness and can’t fly. She didn’t like the idea of the people and fuss of a passenger ship and so we’re the next best bet. Apparently, his brother owns plantations in India and she’s going to convalesce there. The young brother is along for the ride, I guess.” The Boson shrugged his shoulders and puffed on his cigarette, adding; “I let cookie know and he’s pulled extra rations from the Chandlers. I also borrowed that mangy cat of his and let it run around the passenger accommodation. It came up with three of the little bastards in thirty minutes; at least we won’t have a mouse problem on this bloody trip with that furry fucker on board!”
The captain nodded his approval and peered down the gangway at the three passengers who came aboard with young Mr. Roberts [the Second Officer] who was now taking them to their cabins. “Fuck; it’s bad enough having a woman on board without her looking like that.” He muttered and the Boson had to agree “She’s a fucking stunner alright.” The Boson smiled to himself and returned to the engine room, whilst the captain paced the bridge and cursed; that’s what this shitty trip really needed: a bloody woman on board for bad luck. Still, the lady was a doctor and that may prove very useful on a trip like this. The old Queen (against Board of Trade regulations) wasn't carrying a MO (Medical Officer) on this trip to save money. The shipping company liked to be frugal - or tight-fisted bastards - as the Boson would say. That made Captain Cole smile a little and he started to shout orders for the ship to get underway.
The Queen Eleanor left her home port for the last time on the evening tide. No
fanfares or well-wishers saw her off from the dockside; but a couple of burly
dockworkers did wave and shout; “Goodbye and good luck!”
“We’re underway.” Jericho said simply, feeling the movement of the ship beneath
him and peered through the porthole at the rolling sea. “The weather will be
good until we pass the African coast, then it becomes a bit playful. I pulled
the weather charts for this time period and area.” He sat on the cabins sofa
[which despite being cleaned up for them still looked well worn] and pulled a
brown paper file from his old battered valise.
Owen stuck his head out from the bathroom and asked if the water was safe to drink. That made Alex laugh and she nodded affirmative; “It’s quite safe Owen; for bathing, cleaning your teeth and flushing the toilet.”
“I’ll stick to alcohol.” He muttered and tipped the glass he had filled into the cracked and worn sink. "I wonder how the big man's doing." He asked Alex and dropped onto the threadbare armchair, by the cabin door. She grinned; "As long as Wilson passes the damn Inspectors Exam, he should get his promotion; that's right Jericho?"
Jericho nodded, then slightly smiled; "Ah, but who will we get as his
replacement, that's the big question." Owen groaned; "As long as it’s
not bloody 'Jumbo'. I can't understand a bloody word that mad Scot says."
Alex relaxed into the other large, upholstered chair and looked about the room. “Actually, this is quite pleasant, a lot better than I imagined.” She spoke to Jericho who smiled and tapped the file. “In just over three weeks this ship will simply disappear with her crew somewhere in the Indian ocean. But most importantly, there was not a single Soul collected. They vanished in June 1969 and sadly, no Souls were recovered from that incident. We know that at the time, there was an intrusion in the Timeline for this area of quite a large magnitude. But nothing apparently changed since this ship was due to flounder and her crew pass-over; except no Souls were collected. That’s the real mystery here, so we’ll enjoy a pleasant sea voyage and solve that damn mystery.” He smiled broadly and then someone knocked on the cabin door.
“I’ll get that.” Owen pulled open the door and Hugh Dougal stood smiling but
looking a little ill-at-ease in the Stewards outfit that the Boson told him to
wear. “Good evening, Madam & gentlemen. I will show you to the Dining Room
as Dinner is scheduled for six PM. You will, of course, be dining with the
ship’s Captain and Officers.” Hugh gestured down the brightly lit corridor and
both Alex and Jericho rose together with Owen following.
“Who’s that?” Alex asked the young man, pointing to the large ginger cat
sitting at the foot of the stairs, who appeared to be watching them with his
sole good eye. “That’s Nelson, the ship’s cat. He is a very good mouser.”
They walked to the stairs and young Hugh stopped; “Well he’s the Cook’s cat actually, they both joined us together at Liverpool. Apparently, they have been on several ships over the time they have been at sea.” He pointed up the stairs and added; “Please follow me, the Dining Room for Officers is located in the Officer’s corridor.”
The Dining Room was surprisingly spacious, and the table well set with cutlery, glasses and plates. Owen lifted the Menu Card from his napkin and smiled; “Lamb with mint sauce, Chateau potatoes and green peas. That’ll do me.”
Alex sipped her water glass and tapped the Menu card; “I am impressed; a choice
of two main course’s. I’m going with Sirloin of Beef, new potatoes, green peas
and creamed carrots - followed by a Chocolate & Vanilla Éclair.” Young Mr.
Robert’s joined the table and ordered the Lamb & Mint sauce with a can of
‘Long-life’ beer. That caught Owens interest and he also ordered a can of the
beer. He sipped it and pulled a face, “Must be an acquired taste.”
Jericho had the Beef with no
desert and did enjoy his meal.
They sent their compliments about the meals to the cook. Mr. Roberts apologised
that the captain and the chief Engineer [the only other officers on board]
couldn't join them for dinner. They were sorting out a minor problem in the
engine room. That made Jericho smile: on an old ship like this, any 'minor'
problems with the damn engines were actually a major problem! He kept those
thoughts to himself.
But Mr. Roberts was a congenial host and made light polite conversation, especially with Alex. The young man really couldn't hide his interest in her. That also made Jericho smile. The dinner was quite pleasant, with Alex and Owen impressed by the decent brandy that was served afterwards by their Steward, Hugh. He also clearly had an interest in Alex and hung about the table, smiling at he. Mr. Roberts had to actually send him away at one point. Owen grinned and whispered to Jericho; "Add two more moth’s to her long list."
In their cabin, Owen sipped his after-dinner beer and smiled; "The big man would have loved that meal. I hope he's enjoying his training course; does this mean he'll get promoted to Inspector soon?" Jericho shook his head; "Not quite straight away, but he needs to pass this course to be considered for promotion."
"I think he would have loved a nice sea voyage." Murmured Alex and swallowed down her glass of brandy. Owen chuckled; "What; on a tramp steamer about to flounder and bump off the entire crew?" Alex shrugged; "You know what I mean."
The team retired for the night, with Owen disappearing into the adjoining cabin and Alex slipping into her gaudy, red silk pyjama's in the bathroom. "Are you decent hubby dear?" She shouted and waited for Jericho's mumbled reply of 'yes'. She stepped out the bathroom, placing her clothes on the nearby chair and just had to smile at Jericho's plain stripped pyjamas. "They’re the height of bedroom fashion; back in bloody 1910." She muttered and climbed into the big bed and settled down for the night. Jericho was under a blanket on the sofa. That always amazed Alex, when they had to play husband and wife that Jericho could sleep soundly on any old sofa, couch or chair, she would swear blind he could sleep standing up!
But she had to smile to herself about her Inspector; in all their times they 'slept' together on missions as a married couple, she had never worried once about him making sexual advances to her. Alex knew full well, that she certainly wouldn't feel that safe with other young men or, she thought; the old one’s either! "He’s a true, old English, gentleman; right down to his pyjamas." She whispered to herself and dropped off to sleep; smiling.
3. STRANGE STORIES AFTER DINNER.
The following day had glorious weather and the team relaxed on the
deck. Jericho sat in a deck chair under a drab grey umbrella and read
"War & Peace' in the original Russian language. He sipped a glass of
cold white wine and occasionally looked up from his book and watched the
calm sea. He spoke quietly to Owen, who was slumped in the deckchair next to
him; "Almost like a bloody cruise ship holiday; pity about the sinking and
deaths that will unfold soon." Owen just grunted; he had a small
transistor radio next to his head; listening to 'pop' music, which being an ex
Medieval Monk, actually made no sense to him. But he did enjoy it. The pair
looked up to see Alex join them. She was carrying a blanket, a pillow, a towel
and some suntan lotion.
Owen sighed loudly; "Christ sake Alex! Couldn't you find a swimsuit that covered a little bit more?" Alex was wearing the height of ladies bathing fashion for 1969: the bikini. She just waved his words away and laid her blanket and pillow down.
Even Jericho had to take a second look; the little black bikini barely hid her ample charms - and as usual - she looked absolutely stunning. She sat on her blanket and rubbed the lotion over herself. A couple of sailors stood by the rail and just stared as they rubbed the rail with a couple of dirty cloths. Alex held up the bottle and said quietly; "Can someone please rub this on my back and shoulders?" Directing her request to Jericho, who nodded and took the bottle. The team heard the two sailors groan loudly and really did start to rub the rails with some vigour.
Jericho carried out his arduous duty with a small smile. He gently rubbed the lotion into her shoulders and back and then did the back of her legs. He stopped short of rubbing it on the bare cheeks of her arse. But Alex turned and gestured to her bum; "Rub it on please hubby dear, I don't want a sunburned bottom. I'll have to stand through dinner." Jericho sighed and nodded. "Some of the bloody duties we poor Inspectors have to carry out." He said quietly and Owen just groaned; he would have happily thrown his dear mother overboard to get that 'duty'.
The two sailors stopped rubbing the rail and just stared as Jericho applied the lotion to Alex's bum. The older man wiped his face with the dirty rag and said softly; "I've never had the urge or need to marry, but for sweet Jesus’ sake I would happily marry that bitch without a second thought." He then realised he had rubbed rusting paintwork all over his face. His younger companion just smiled; his bloody erection was killing him.
Owen sat clutching the small radio and wondered how long before he made Inspector and could rub his females Detective Constables back too. He grunted to himself; "I suppose with all the serious responsibilities that Inspectors have, they must have to get some perks." With that, he closed his eyes and laid back; the music didn't seem that entertaining now.
Captain Ward stood on the bridge and peered through his binoculars; he wasn't watching the sea. He lowered them and shook his head; "Those two have been rubbing that bloody rail for at least twenty minutes. Mr. Roberts, go down and move them on, that bloody rail is gleaming." He turned to see that the young officer had already gone. Now that did make him chuckle, adding; "That's the fastest he's ever obeyed an order of mine." The old sailor at the wheel just laughed outright. The captain stared at him with some disapproval; then laughed too.
The old Chief stood arms folded, grinning from ear to ear. "Skipper, this little trip could be very entertaining and really pleasurable with that lady on board. I will pray that the sunny weather holds, so that she can sunbath as much as she likes." The captain nodded and whispered; "Fucking Amen to that." He went back to his binoculars and was rewarded by Alex turning over. He groaned a little and carefully studied her arse with some determination and real pleasure.
Owen and Jericho just had to laugh. That little piece of railing was rubbed down by several sailors over the time Alex lay sunbathing. At one point, a fight almost broke about, when there were no less than six crewmen all trying to rub down the same piece of rail. Mr. Roberts finally managed to send the unhappy men away. But stood for some minutes; just looking at Alex. It was the captain - shouting through a megaphone - from the bridge, that made the reluctant young officer return to his duties. Hugh appeared with more drinks and took over ten minutes to serve two glasses of wine and some cold lemonade [for Alex]. He returned several times, to see if more drinks or snacks were needed. For once, he really did enjoy playing the Cabin Steward to the passengers!
That night, Alex wore a stunning black cocktail dress which was quite low cut and several sailors gathered at the end of the officer's corridor to watch her walk to dinner. They could see that, with the short dress and black high heels, she was clearly wearing stockings under the thin dress. Some actually took to crossing themselves and were ordered away and back to their duties by the captain. He watched Alex go into the dining room and with some real reluctance, decided to speak to her husband about the lady dressing more appropriately with so many men on board and only one woman.
"But what a fucking woman!" He muttered to himself as he followed Alex into the dining room. He simply couldn't take his eyes off her backside as it swung gently with her little walk. He groaned several times and for once, was looking forward to dining with the bloody passengers that the shipping company normally fostered on him.
There was social chatting about the table when Captain Cole Ward joined the diners. He was very polite and sociable and clearly interested in Alex as most males were! That made Jericho smile to himself; he wondered if the captain would be so keen, if he knew Alex [if still alive] would be nearly a hundred human years old or two hundred years if you believed the rumours about her! Alex skilfully turned the conversation around to her ‘husbands’ hobby, the study of the Paranormal. That made Mr. Roberts really interested in the table talk and he declared that the old Queen Eleanor had several strange stories circulating about her. Jericho asked the young officer to elaborate, and he did with some enthusiasm.
It appears that weird happenings had plagued the ship since her launch in 1933. On her maiden voyage to Casablanca, several crew members reported seeing a woman about the decks, a very beautiful apparition by all accounts. There were no women on board, not even amongst the few passengers she carried. She was to make several appearances over the years to both crew and passengers; the crew gave her the nickname ‘Eleanor’.
Then, just before the War {World War II] on a trip to India, the ship
encountered a lifeboat drifting on the current. When recovered, they were
horrified to find a skeleton, wrapped in canvas with the clothes just rags and
had clearly been dead for many years. The little boat was so old and damaged
that no one could read the name of her mother ship. They buried the unknown
sailor at sea and recorded everything in the log.
Then in 1943, during a hot summer’s night on a journey to South Africa, the
ships log recorded a strange weather phenomenon; it snowed, and the sea and air
temperatures dropped dramatically. There were snowball fights on deck and then
suddenly, the hot weather was back.
The Queen Eleanor survived the War and in 1948, on a journey to India, she
collided with an old colliery ship; The SS Frank Jones in thick fog and two
sailors sleeping in their quarters located in the bow; were killed. The old
coal boat floundered and sank, taking nine of twenty-six crew members to the
bottom of the sea.
The Queen managed to limp into port and was patched up. The Board of Trade Enquiry exonerated the Queen’s Captain of any blame. The two crew members who died had a small plaque fixed to the bar in the crew mess room. Within several weeks, the crew was reporting sightings of their former colleagues about the ship – particularly near the bow storeroom [which was the old sleeping quarters - converted into a store during her repairs] The pair would also make appearances over the years; like ‘Eleanor’ but never at the same time.
Nothing of note was recorded for several years. But in 1955, her wireless room
received an SOS late one winter’s night, on a rare Atlantic trip to New York.
The wireless operator rushed to the captain’s cabin and woke him from a deep
sleep, brandishing the call written in his log. A certain RMS Titanic was
sinking after striking an iceberg and was asking for assistance. Unfortunately
for the hapless operator, he had been secretly drinking and was promptly thrown
in the brig!
But he never changed his story and even repeated it at his discipline hearing;
he was removed from sea duties and later dismissed. He maintained the story was
true for the remainder of his life.
The final story retold by Mr. Roberts had happened just six years ago, a few
days after the Kennedy assassination and so, was largely overlooked by the
media at the time. A body fell from the sky and landed in the sea just yards
from the ship; it was recovered and created a mystery still unsolved to this
day [1969]. The young man was badly burnt, as if killed in an explosion and
carried no identity papers. His clothes were so burnt they yielded no clues to
his name, only his strange shoes may have solved the mystery [but they didn’t]
they appear to have been made of plastic and rubber, looking like running shoes
without the spikes.
At first, it was believed to be a body from an aircraft that exploded in
mid-air, but where the ship was; there were no flight paths, and this was the
middle of the Indian Ocean. No planes had been reported missing and so the body
was buried at sea; yet another mystery disappeared under the waves.
The dinner party broke up and the passengers took a turn around the decks
before returning to their cabins and the Queen Eleanor steamed on. The captain
never did speak to Jericho about his 'wife's' clothes. The days and nights
passed slowly, but skirting the African coast, she encountered a tropical storm,
and the crew was impressed by their passenger’s resilience to stormy
waters.
4. DEATH AND TIME.
The captain didn't know whether to smile or be angry, when he found out that the crew held a raffle each morning for cleaning duties in the Officer's corridor of an evening. The Boson wasn't puzzled by it and explained [with a big smile, gripping his ticket tightly] that each evening two men were selected to clean the officers corridor and because nearly every member of the crew now volunteered; the raffle was the best way to select the lucky fellows.
The captain just sighed. He knew why; Alexandra walked from her cabin to the dining room each evening. Her evening and cocktail dresses were [of course] the height of 1960's fashion; normally miniskirts or short dresses. He watched every night himself and - rather unusually for him - never missed dining with the passengers. He had the privilege of sitting opposite her and the real pleasure of catching her crossing her long legs or bending forward over the table in those low-cut dresses. He explained to the Chief and the Boson that it helped 'crew morale' and gave the men something to look forward too. No one in the crew disagreed with that!
The cook was in demand [and not just for his excellent food] but had to recount the 'ladder incident' nearly every night to a packed audience in his small kitchen. Hugh was also besieged to tell his story of how he knocked [with a tray of drinks] at the Tibbs cabin and walked in to find her standing in just a small towel, drying her hair. "If I die tomorrow, I'd die a happy man." He confessed, not realising how prophetic his words - sadly - would be,
The strange death of young Hugh Dougal, during the night of 'white light' soon
followed those words. On a quiet warm evening, a strange cloud formation began
to appear above the ship, so both crew and passengers gathered on the deck to
view the odd phenomena - the dark clouds appear to be riddled with flashing
bright lights and with a suddenness that even surprised the very experienced
officers and crew - a new, strange storm rolled over the Queen Eleanor.
With rolling waves and torrential rain, the ship was tossed about like a
plastic toy. Jericho, with Alex and Owen following, headed for the bridge and
joined Captain Ward who was struggling to keep control of the wayward ship. The
bridge was suddenly illuminated by a burst of bright light, so intense that you
simply had to close your eyes until it
passed. The storm abated quickly, and it was the Boson bursting through the
deck hatchway onto the bridge shouting that actually shocked everyone; he
looked and sounded totally distraught.
“Hugh Dougal is dead! The boy is fucking dead!" The Boson grabbed the captain by the arm, still shouting; "The boy is dead!"
Captain Ward pulled away from the Boson and tried desperately to calm
the old man. Alex thrust her hipflask under the Boson's nose and told him to
drink; he gulped down a couple of swigs and appeared to calm down. "He
just dropped in front of me; stone fucking dead." He whispered and wiped
his face with a dirty hankie.
Captain Cole turned to Alex and quite firmly, told her to look at the young
man's body - then added a little 'please' afterwards. Alex agreed and the Boson
guided her, with Owen and Jericho following, down to the Engine Room corridor,
where the lifeless body of the late Hugh Dougal lay sprawled upon the dirty
floor.
Alex took a few minutes examining the body; "There's not a mark on him
that I can see at the moment. But we need to get him to the medical bay, so i
can examine him properly. Did he have any history of heart conditions?"
The Boson shook his head; "He loved to play football; he was only
twenty-two for Christ sake."
Alex sighed; "Well, can you get some men to move him to the Medical Bay please." The Boson shouted down the corridor and two burly and filthy men appeared from the engine room; coal stokers for the engines.
The Boson told them to take young Hugh to the medical Bay and be gentle about
it. They grunted and easily lifted the boy’s body between them. Slowly the
little group made for the old Medical Officers room, which doubled as his
surgery.
Jericho held Alex and Owen back for a few seconds, he sounded quite grim;
"No Collector appeared, this death was unscheduled and that's nearly
impossible. The only explanation is that the boy was out of his natural time
period. Now that is interesting." His mirror buzzed gently, and he
discretely read the message without smiling. Jericho sighed; "We've been
assigned the case of the boy's missing soul." Owen sadly grunted;
"One down, twenty-one to go." The three followed the others quietly
down the dark corridor until they reached the medical Room. Captain Cole was waiting for them, looking really
concerned, he turned to the Boson and spoke quietly; "The radio is dead;
nothing; not even static we can’t even call for assistance. There’s even
nothing on the little transistor radio that young Robert’s keeps in the Chart
Room. Nothing on any wavelength.”
The body was placed on the Doctors large table and Alex switched on the two lamps that hung above it. Owen helped her strip the body and cover it with a clean white sheet. The captain thanked her and dismissed the other men, then returned to the bridge to try the radio again.
Jericho gathered the three together and closed the door; "Check your
mirrors people and you may be a little surprised." He held up his mirror
and they could see the current date and time: 14th September 1757 at four
o'clock in the afternoon. "According to my mirror, we're now in the
Pacific Ocean off the Midway Atoll." Owen lowered his mirror and looked
down at the late Hugh Dougal and added; "He's not alone being out of time;
everybody is!"
Alex could not find a single mark upon the body of Hugh Dougal; "It has to
be a massive heart failure, yet he's rather too young, to suffer from
undiagnosed heart problems." She had no proper equipment to perform a
post-Mortem and thus, could only make a guess at the cause of his sudden death.
But they all knew that the young man's soul had been lost to the darkness of
real death.
Jericho stood quietly in the corner, arms folded, deep in thought. Finally, he sighed loudly; "Members of the crew who die while we're in the wrong time period, will certainly not have their souls collected. That explains nicely why no souls were collected when the Queen Eleanor disappeared in 1969. The whole bloody ship was in the wrong time."
The door opened slowly, and young Mr. Roberts stuck his head around the door, unsmiling; "The Captain wants to see you on the bridge....there's been a couple of strange developments that you should really know about." Jericho waved the officer in and Mr. Roberts pulled off his hat and stood by the table staring at the body of Hugh; covered with the white sheet. Jericho smiled and tapped the young man's arm; "What strange developments?"
Mr. Roberts coughed - he looked a little distraught actually - and nervously rubbed his hands together. "The small lifeboat that was kept at the stern has gone and.....with it the bloody cook and his mangy cat." He pulled a hankie from his trouser pocket and wiped his face; "According to old man Parish [an elderly seaman of many years’ experience] the bloody cook was replacing the stores in the lifeboats with new provisions and stuff, when the storm struck and the starboard boat just flew over the side - complete with the cook and his damn cat - the old man has only just told the captain. This was the first opportunity he had, with Hugh dropping dead and all that...."
"You said developments, what else has happened?" Jericho asked
quietly. Young Mr. Roberts looked out into the corridor and slowly closed the
door; "The captain used the sexton to fix our position and it wasn't
right." Owen, Alex and Jericho all exchanged a knowing glance. "Why
wasn't it right?" Jericho asked and folded his arms. Mr. Roberts took a
deep breath and looked quite grim; "We're about a thousand miles off
course, we're somewhere in the Pacific Ocean which is bloody impossible!"
He wiped his face again and re-checked the corridor.
"The Captain and the Chief have both checked the ship's clocks; everyone
of them has stopped at 6.10pm." He held up his wristwatch; "Every
single watch has stopped at that time - the exact time when the strange storm
struck."
He walked to the door and turned slightly; "The captain has to turn around
and go after the bloody cook; can't leave the poor bugger drifting out
there." He managed a smile and replaced his cap; "So don't worry when
you feel the old Queen turning one eighty." He added and disappeared
through the door.
Owen shrugged his shoulders; "No bloody dinner then." Alex and
Jericho just stared at him, then both smiled. "Well, we can do something
about that." Alex said and rolled up her sleeves.
5. THE ISLAND.
With no cook, Alex and Owen knocked up a curry for the evening meal; for
themselves and the crew; that went down really well with the men and the
captain thanked the pair with some real gratitude. "You’re a bloody lucky
man Mr. Tibbs, your wife is intelligent, brave and beautiful and can knock up a
bloody decent curry!" The captain smiled and Alex demurely acknowledged
his compliment. Owen grinned and gave the thumbs up; for a young monk from
Medieval England, he was an excellent curry cook!
Mr. Robert's rose from the table and fixed a white apron on; the captain stared
at him. The young man grinned; "I'm going to help with the washing
up." He spluttered out and started to collect dishes from the table. Captain
Cole waved him back into his chair and leaned close to him; "Mr. Roberts, you’re
a bloody officer, not a bloody galley boy. Just order a couple of the
youngsters to do it."
Mr. Roberts slowly removed the apron and nodded; "Sorry Sir... I just
thought..." The captain waved his words away and grunted; "Go and
relieve the Chief on the bridge, so he can get his bloody dinner." Mr.
Roberts said nothing more and headed for the bridge - suitably rebuked. The
captain slumped back in his chair and sighed; "He's actually going to make
a good officer; in a few more years. I take it, he's told you about our....well,unusual
situation?" Jericho nodded. The phone on the wall buzzed and the captain
jumped up and answered it. He replaced the receiver with some puzzlement on his
face.
"What is it?" Jericho asked, though he had a good idea what the call
was about. The captain ran a hand over his face; "There's a bloody Island
off starboard." He said simply and headed for the bridge. The team left
the table for the deck with Owen muttering; "Which bleeding side is
starboard?" Alex grinned; "Just follow us." They stood by the
railings and could just make out the island in the gathering gloom of night. It
was the little flickering lights in two separate locations that caught their
attention."Bonfires on the beach probably." Jericho said and pulled
his mirror out. "It’s inhabited then." Owen stated and stared hard at
the dim lights. Jericho nodded his agreement; it was inhabited alright by two
cannibalistic tribes that hated each other!
The boson appeared behind the team and coughed; causing Jericho to plunge his
mirror back into his pocket. "Sorry, to disturb you people, but the captain
has made a decision about young Dougal." Jericho smiled; "What about
young Hugh?" The boson wiped his face and did not smile; "We've no
way to store the body. I mean we don't have a fridge big enough to hold a body,
so the captain has decided to bury the boy on the island. At least that way, it
could be retrieved later by his family or someone. There would be no chance of
that, if we bury him at sea." Jericho nodded at the good sense of that and
obviously said nothing about the fact, that the year was 1757 and his family or
friends could never recover the body in 1969.
The boson turned to go and added; "We'll do it tomorrow morning. You’re
welcome to come and pay your respects; if you wish." He walked back down
the deck towards the bridge ladder and disappeared. "I think he saw your
mirror." Alex said quietly to Jericho, who just nodded and pulled his
mirror back out; "I was just reading that in 1757, this island was
inhabited by two fierce tribes who attacked and killed each other on a regular
basis. They were also cannibals and cooked up their victims on the beaches -
some sort of primitive ritual - I suppose."
Alex grimaced, and Owen sighed; "Charming. I take it they won't be
interested in my curry recipes." Alex and Jericho just groaned, and the
team headed back to their cabins. "This bloody old tub does carry some
guns? - doesn't it?" Owen muttered. No one answered because they didn't
know.
The following morning after a light breakfast, the landing/burial party
gathered on the foredeck. The body of young Hugh had been carefully wrapped in
white bed sheets and then placed in a canvas bag which had been sewed together
by his friends, a real old tradition of the sea. Everyone watched in silence as
his body was lowered into the lifeboat. The captain had opened the ships
armoury [on Jericho's suggestion] and issued two of his mature men with rifles.
He carried a pistol and a bible; for the burial service.
Owen managed to persuade the captain to issue him with a rifle; he really did
smile at that - much to the dismay of Alex - who told him that she didn't
approve of guns; especially in the hands of youth. Owen just smiled and
clutched the rifle with some reverence. "Probably thinks he's bloody Ale
Capone." Alex muttered to Jericho as they climbed into the small boat, and
it was lowered away.
The little outboard motor powered the boat towards the shore. As they
approached, they could make out a blackened pile of stones near the tree line,
still with a little whispery grey smoke rising. They beached a few minutes
later and heaved the boat up onto the sand - to prevent the tide dragging it
back out. Cole, Jericho and Owen left the boat and headed for the burnt stones
- the remainder waited by the boat; rifles at the ready.
Cole wiped a hand across his face and stared down at the bones sprawled across
the stones; a smashed and burnt skull lay nearby. There were numerous, older
bones and skulls littered around the grim site including quite small ones. "Probably
women or children's." Jericho spoke to Cole, who admitted he wanted to
vomit. "Sweet fucking Jesus, fucking cannibals in the late 20th century
don't make sense. How is that possible?" The captain said quietly; Jericho
and Owen didn't answer because they knew the year was really 1757 and the
people of these islands had not yet been civilized or introduced to
Christianity, by some very brave Missionaries.
Owen tapped Jericho on the shoulder and pointed towards the small mountain that
dominated this part of the island. "Near the top of the hill, there
appears to be some kind of wooden stockade and it doesn't look that
overgrown." Both Jericho and Cole Ward stared up at the small structure.
"Well, there's been, or is, some civilized fuckers around here." The
captain muttered and looked back down at the bones.
"I really don't think this is the proper place to bury young Hugh; do
you?" The captain asked Jericho, who had to agree with him. The bloody
savages would probably did the body up and feast on it. That really did turn
Owens’s guts. He pointed – again - to the mysterious structure; "That's a
bloody flag hanging from the tower - at the end - isn't it?" Jericho
nodded; "It's an old Spanish flag I think."
That's when a shot rang out, followed quickly by a couple more. The sailors
with the lifeboat were firing at the tree line and with good reason; at least
twenty natives had appeared. An arrow bounced off the stones and another
slapped the sand next to Owens’s boots. He pulled back the bolt on his rifle
and pushed it forward, raising the rife and then fired. One native dropped to
the ground and the remainder charged. A spear went past Jericho's head, and the
three men ran back to the boat. With much shouting and swearing, they pushed the boat out and started
the engine. Old John Ebbs was hit in the shoulder with an arrow and had to be
pulled aboard. They just made it, crouching low in the boat and firing when they could take a shot. The natives
stood at the water's edge and watched the little boat depart in urgent haste.
They danced and screamed, waving their spears.
As the lifeboat approached the 'Queen Eleanor' Alex wrapped part of her ripped
petticoat around Ebb's shoulder to stop the bleeding and she shouted to
Jericho; "Did you see who was with those bastards?" He shook his
head; "A bloody white man appeared to be leading them!" She panted.
Jericho stared back at the now crowded beach and could clearly see a big white
male standing, arms folded, watching them. He was dressed like the natives
except for a magnificent, feathered bonnet and curved sword.
He made a gesture with his arm and the native warriors fell silent and he
turned away, disappearing back into the jungle; the natives quietly following.
Old John Ebbs was taken to the medical room and Alex managed to remove the arrowhead
and stitch him up. He was given some brandy and antibiotics. He confessed that
he preferred the brandy, rather than the damn needles.
"He'll be fine." Alex told Captain Cole, who gave the old man a
couple of cold bottles of beer. The captain thanked her and headed for the
door, he stopped and said quietly; "We'll move out to sea, where the
currents are strong and running away from that murderous shithole. Then we'll
bury young Hugh properly; a sailors funeral." Alex nodded and took a swig
from the brandy bottle that she had been feeding John Ebb's from, adding;
"You've got my vote on that plan." Cole Ward chuckled and headed for
the bridge; he really did have a growing passion for that woman and smiled to
himself.
6. NOT WHERE MATTERS; BUT WHEN.
Captain Cole had posted an armed watch on both the bridge and the stern. He had
moved the old 'Queen Eleanor' some miles out to sea and stopped. That warm
afternoon, he conducted a burial at sea for young Hugh Dougal which everyone
attended. Hugh's body was placed under ship's flag [the Red Ensign] and some of
the ships railings were removed. The large table from the medical Room was used
to slide his body over the side. Hugh had been weighed down with pieces of
metal and chain; anything that was heavy, so that his corpse sank quickly and
more importantly; deeply.
The captain stood by the rail - cap removed - and the crew and passengers stood
in silence. He lifted his face up and spoke; "Another ship's captain; a
certain Chad Threefold put it so well and I won't take anything from his
words." He gripped his prayer book and recited: "Alone I Will Not Be,
My comfort will come from the sea. The stillness of calm waves will gently
drift by and I will be as one with the sea. When the sun sets on the ocean
blue, remember me as I will always remember you. As the sun rises go live life
as full as can be. Apart from you and me but be at peace for I am free."
They all said the 'Lord's Prayer' and stood in silence for a minute. Alex was
actually quite moved and shed a few tears which didn't go un-noticed by the
crew or her colleagues. Owen gripped her arm and whispered; "We can't do
anything for poor Hugh now, but we can recover the other's souls." Alex
nodded and blew her nose into Owen’s hankie, which he had offered. She handed
it back to him and smiled; "Cheer's." He muttered and pulled a face.
"The bar's open to everybody." Cole announced and that afternoon the
passengers and crew sat in the small bar and quietly enjoyed a much-needed
drink. The 'wake' broke up after a couple of hours and Jericho and the team
retired to their cabins. Alex was in the small bathroom, enjoying a hot bath
and heard Jericho open the door to Captain Cole. She quietly listened and
didn't smile.
Apparently, both the Captain and the Chief had taken Sexton readings; where the
ship was, wasn't right; impossibly not right. The radio was dead, and radar
showed no shipping for miles; except a small unidentified blip, some miles
astern. He had also identified the island; he hadn't recognised it at first;
there were no docks or town or busy population or traffic. He had docked here
only two years ago, when he commanded the cargo ship; 'The Sea Princess'.
Apparently, there had been an ancient and derelict, whitewashed church standing
where they saw the stockade. He asked Jericho outright if he knew 'what the
fuck' was going on.
Alex heard Jericho explaining that was impossible, but the captain insisted he
answer, come up with something - anything. Finally, Jericho managed to get Cole
to accept a brandy and sit. Alex slipped from her bath and wrapped a bath robe
about her. She quietly opened the door and smiled, greeting the captain with
some warmth. His aggressive mood changed immediately. Jericho did smile to
himself; Alex would be the best Magicians Assistant - ever [all magicians' assistants were used for distraction].
Alex settled on the sofa with a brandy; the robe didn't cover much of her long legs and the captain couldn't look away. She had certainly taken the heat out of the discussion. They sat chatting more reasonably now and finally Captain Cole Ward answered his own question; "I may be going nuts, but I think we've slipped back in time, and it was that bloody strange storm that did it." Jericho agreed with that possibility and Alex mentioned the story of Moberly & Jourdain, two ladies who had, in 1901, apparently slipped back in time to the Palace of Versailles, just before the French Revolution of 1789. Cole nodded his head; even he had heard that story.
"They did return to their own time; eventually." Alex added and Jericho re-filled her glass. There was a knock and young Mr. Robert's stuck his head around the door; "Sorry Captain, but there's a sailing ship some fifteen miles south of us. She has three masts and is under full sail towards us. The Chief thinks it's quite bonkers." Captain Cole stood up and placed his empty glass down. "Why does the Chief think a barque is bonkers?" He asked Mr. Robert's who was staring at Alex's legs. The young officer half smiled; "Well, it is flying the 'Skull & Crossbones' Sir."
Cole and Jericho exchanged a strange look and followed Mr. Roberts to the bridge. Alex quickly finished drying herself and dressed. She banged on Owens’s door, and he joined her; they also made their way to the bridge.
The Chief was watching through binoculars and shook his head in disbelief; "It's a fucking pirate ship! - Sorry about the language Miss - it does actually appear to have bloody cannons poking out the sides." He nearly laughed; "What the fuck is going on? Sorry Miss." Alex just smiled and raised the binoculars that Mr. Robert's had given her.
"I can make out the name, I think. It's the...'The Boudicca'. Must be an English ship." She said softly and lowered the lasses. Owen slipped into the bridge's chart room and consulted his mirror. He quietly gestured for Alex to join him. They both looked hard at his mirror. "She belongs to a notorious 18th Century pirate called Joseph Deadleggs- an Englishman apparently - who was noted for his cruelty, murder, rape and of course; piracy. "He looked around and added; "It was believed that the ship was lost at sea in 1756 because, after he departed his home port in the August of that year, the damn ship was never seen or heard of again. It disappeared; assumed sunk with all hands in some storm or another."
"She's certainly gaining on us; almost bloody flying." The Chief sounded like he actually admired the little wooden ship. That's when they saw the puffs of smoke appeared from the starboard side of the ship and heard the bangs. Something slammed against the metal hull of the old Queen. "They're fucking firing at us!" Exclaimed Mr. Roberts; looking totally amazed.
"No shit Sherlock." The Chief said and turned to the captain;
"All we have are a couple of rifles and some flares." The captain
lowered his glasses; "Get the men ready chief, soon as she's close enough,
fire a couple of flares into her. Get Simm's to do that; he could knock
the wings off a fly."
The Chief disappeared from the bridge, shouting to his men. There were a couple
of more hits; one pierced a small hole in the funnel. "Turn her about Mr.
Robert's." The captain shouted and picked up the bridge phone.
"Engine room! Get full steam up." Mr. Robert's stared at the captain;
"Are you going to fucking ram her?" He asked with some amazement in
his voice. The captain nodded and quite calmly added; "They are firing at
us Mr. Robert's and that gives us the right to defend ourselves; by any means
necessary." He told the helmsman to swing the old Queen around - hard.
Another shot from 'The Boudicca' smashed through the forward store and set the
place alight. Captain Cole Ward sounded the ship's alarm and ordered the
fire-fighting party forward. He gripped the ship's wheel with the helmsman and
said with some authority; "Find something to hang onto, but this will hurt
them more than it does us." He turned the 'Queen Eleanor' hard into the
Pirate ship that had almost come aside; it’s motley crew hanging on to ropes
from the rigging in anticipation of boarding.
Simm's lived up to his reputation and fired two flares perfectly into the pirate ship; everyone could see the dense smoke and some flame on her deck and rear mast. But the pirates were now close enough to fire their muskets and pistols. Two musket balls shattered the bridge’s big window: sending glass everywhere.
But young Tony Groves was struck by a musket ball that took part of his head off; he was dead before hitting the deck. No Collector appeared. He would be buried that evening at sea; there was no-where to keep the body refrigerated and the heat was intense.
The two ships collided with frightening noise and the Queen shuddered from bow to stern. Wood and sail mixed with steel and for just a few seconds, there was almost an eerie silence. Then firing could be heard, the pirates still had some fight left in them. The Chief appeared in the hatchway - rifle in hand - and shouted; "They're trying to board!" Captain Cole – an absolute picture of calm authority nodded; "Turn the fire hoses on the bastards." The Chief grinned and disappeared.
Captain Cole turned the Queen again and increased speed. The pirate ship
was now sinking by the bow and ablaze; but the pirates were still firing,
and musket balls slammed into the wood work of the old bridge. "The
bastards are abandoning ship!" yelled Jim Grieves - the Helmsmen - as a
bullet shattered the swinging lamp by his head. Jericho could see a small boat
being rowed away from the pirate ship with about a dozen men aboard.
They were heading for the Queen and still firing. "Let's get the fuck out of here." Muttered the Captain and the Queen started to pull away from the scene. Owen rose slowly from the floor and with head low, stared out the shattered window. "They have only one place to go now; that bloody island." He said quietly and smiled. The Queen was moving further away from the little boat full of hate with every minute.
7. S.O.S. - LITERALY: SAVE OUR SOULS!
Owen and Alex attended the wounded; they had been lucky. The pirate attack had cost them one dead and three injured - not seriously. Jericho quietly sat in his cabin and called up the Duty Controller; she listened to his request without comment and then nodded her agreement. Souls were being lost and more could fall into the darkness unless some drastic action was taken. A Knight of God was on their way; and apparently, Wilson was keen to join his colleagues. Even the normally dour Controller smiled at Jericho's audacious plan to get them aboard.
Jericho joined Captain Cole on the bridge as night was falling, bringing him a welcome cup of coffee. The captain accepted it with real gratitude and sipped it quietly. Finally, he said to Jericho; "We are ok for fuel and drinking water, the ships stores are carrying provisions for a full crew. So we're fine for a while, but we need to get back to our own time. Any suggestions would be gratefully received." Jericho nodded and handed the other cup to the helmsman - Jim Grieves - who almost downed it in one go. "Well, this is some story to tell my grandson." He muttered and gripped the wheel with his spare hand. The captain placed his cup down; "Time to take a few readings of the stars, I think." He pulled his old sexton from the cupboard in the chart room and headed for the deck. Jericho watched him go; Captain Cole was every inch a sea captain, clam under extreme pressure and not afraid to make decisions. He was also an excellent sailor. But he had a real, growing fixation for Alexandra and that could prove a problem. Jericho found himself smiling at that thought; why was he surprised by the man's passion for Alexandra!
He was joined by Alex and Owen; both eating sandwiches. Owen had bought a plate for the bridge crew and Jim Grieves thanked the pair and wolfed them down with some gusto. Jericho spoke to his colleagues quietly outside the bridge door, watching Captain Cole taking his readings on the fore deck. "I've put a call in for a Knight. I think we've lost enough souls as it is. Oh, and Wilson is on his way; can't keep away from the action." He chuckled at that, and Owen smiled; "I hope the big man brings some decent brandy with him; the stuff that's left on board is like bloody paint stripper." [The team had managed to drink all the decent brandy in the ships small bar and now only had the 'dregs' left as Owen called it]. Alex slapped his back; "Yes, but its better than no bloody brandy!" Everyone agreed on that.
"Here we go, right on time." Jericho muttered and their attention was turned to the Queen's slow-moving stern. A little white light was flashing. The bridge phone buzzed, and Owen took the helm, whilst Jim answered it. "This is great; I'm driving the damn ship." He said to Alex, who just sighed and whispered; "Boys and their bloody big toys." Jim looked quite puzzled; "There's a little boat a stern of us, a small motor launch. What the fuck - sorry miss – is It doing out here, in the middle of nowhere?”
Jericho smiled at him; "After what happened today; I wouldn't be
surprised by anything." Jim had to agree with that observation. The
captain had returned to the bridge and was watching his stern. "It can't
be the bloody pirates; it’s a motor launch." He said to Jericho, who wiped
his face and smiled; "More lost souls in this mad place?" The captain
nodded. "Tell Mr. Roberts to bring our visitors to the bridge." He
instructed Jim and then stared at Owen, happily gripping the ship's wheel and
just sighed. Captain Cole had a good long look at Alex talking to her 'husband'
and wasn't happy. He couldn't take his eyes off her bum in those tight trousers
and the shirt she was wearing couldn't hide her magnificent breasts; he
particularly watched them moving up and down as she breathed. He had decided to
take a chance with her. He had to; it was as simple as that. It was Jim
speaking in his ear that finally pulled his attention from her. "Jesus,
that's the two biggest blokes I've seen in a long time." Captain
Cole had to agree with him as he shook hands with the pair.
Jericho and his team had to pretend - very hard - that they didn't know Wilson
and James. James was explaining about the mysterious storm and strange lights
when the bridge phone buzzed. Jim answered it and said to the captain;
"It’s the chief; there’s a problem with the engines skipper. He wants you
down there." Captain Cole nodded and apologised to his two new guests;
leaving them in the care of Jericho and his wife.
The team assembled on the foredeck; after a very reluctant Owen had to be
nearly prised from the ships wheel and James explained what he had in mind.
Jericho nodded his agreement with it; they would have to cut their losses -
three souls had already been lost - they needed to save the remaining nineteen.
That's when they realised the old Queen had stopped. Jericho touched the
nearest railing and could feel no vibration; that was not good. Young Mr.
Robert's appeared and looked anxious and distraught; "The bloody engines
have failed. The Chief reckons that's it. The pumps have failed and we've no
spares on board. We're adrift with no control over her."
"How long will we have power for the lights and air conditioning?"
Jericho asked the young officer, who continually wiped his face. "It
should be about twelve hours before we run out of diesel for the emergency
generators. The tight-fisted bastards - sorry miss - at company HQ had decided
that since the ship is being scrapped, we didn't need too much of the stuff;
and no real spare parts either." He walked slowly away; head bowed a
little. James sighed; "Well, that's that. We have to go with the plan
now."
Just after midnight, in dull moonlight, Jericho and the team climbed carefully
down the wet rope ladder into the motor launch. Owen chuckled and said to Alex;
"Someone in Supplies has a bloody weird sense of humour, look at the
name." Alex glanced down and did smile; the little boat was called 'The
Celeste.' They settled in the small cabin and Owen asked Alex why she was
suddenly so moody. She sighed; "That bloody captain Cole made a pass at
me. It took me quite by surprise. The things he said to me; some were very
flattering, but totally inappropriate. I told him I was a very happily married woman,
and do you know what he said?" Owen grinned and said 'no' quietly. She
never finished her story; Wilson appeared in the small hatchway and said
simply; "We're underway. This should be some show."
The motor launch pulled away and rocked and pitched in the swelling sea.
"This may get rough, so hang onto something." James shouted above the
rising winds and waves. Owen wiped spray from his face and pointed to the sky;
"The storms back." They crowded into the cabin and stared
through the windows; they could see the old Queen in the distance; her lights flickering,
and she seemed to be lifting up and down. "Poor bastards." Was all
Wilson said, as he gripped the fixed table.
The storm must have lasted less than fifteen minutes and then the sea was quiet
again. Jericho and James watched through binoculars as the old ship appeared
stationary, but at a strange angle, in the distance. Wilson pulled out his
mirror; "It's 1969 again." Owen leaned forward and screwed up his
face; "Do you know, I think she's sinking." James lowered his
binoculars and said quietly; "She is, they are getting in the two
remaining lifeboats." Jericho placed his glasses down and asked Wilson for
the bottle of brandy, he had in his old canvas bag. Owen fetched some plastic
cups and Wilson poured everyone some brandy.
"There she goes." James muttered as the old Queen Eleanor slipped
from sight. "Did they make the lifeboats?" Alex asked with some real
concern in her voice. Jericho nodded - he looked quite grim - this was one part
of the job; he really couldn't stomach sometimes. "It won't do them any
good; we're miles from the normal shipping lanes. They don't get picked
up." He said quietly and sipped his brandy.
She nodded and slipped back into the small cabinet; mostly to hide her tears from her colleagues. That was the first real time she had witnessed the power of the Knights; little wonder 'THE BOSS' picked his Knights with great care: they were just short of being angels. Now, they had to just let the poor bastards die in the lifeboats; so that their souls could be saved from the darkness of real death. Now, that thought didn’t comfort Alex.
8. YET ANOTHER INTERVIEW WITH THE ANGEL.
The team sat in relative silence outside the angel's office and Jericho pressed
back against the wall; if he had another lifetime, for all the time he spent
sitting, waiting and being bored outside Angel Margret's office; he would be
well over a million years old! [slight exaggeration there!]. He glanced at
Alexandra, sitting next to him, and really couldn't refrain from smiling; she
certainly knew how to surprise people - even her colleagues - who thought they
knew her well.
Wilson sighed and placed his hand on Alex's; "Well, I've always said you
had a soft spot for the living, but that was a blinder." He chuckled and
leaned back on the marble bench. He slapped Owen with his free hand; "Stop
chewing your bloody nails. When did you start that?" He asked and Owen
just shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe we could make up some sort of
story...or something." He said to Wilson, who shook his head; "If you
hadn't noticed; you can't lie to a bloody angel. It's impossible." Owen
grunted and went back to sucking his fingers.
"Sorry boys." Was all Alex said softly and received chuckles and
smiles in return. "Using 'The Celeste's' radio to call for help wasn't in
the plan my girl. That bloody German freighter was off course by nearly eighty miles,
and they picked it up. They should never have been there, but they were.
Nineteen men got a second chance at life and that doesn't happen every day. You
know damn well that we'll stand with you. Like those bloody over dressed
tosser's - the three Musketeers - it's one for all and all for one."
Wilson chuckled again and slapped Owens’s hand; again.
The team was happy about one thing; Wilson had passed his Inspectors Course with flying colours and now had to wait for the next sitting of the Promotions Board. Jericho had dug about the 'Afterlife Offices' and found that it was planned to make up four new Inspectors. He also discovered that eleven sergeants had passed the course, with five returned, having failed to complete the course successfully, this time. Wilson stood a good chance of promotion with just eleven trying for an Inspectors position. Should he be promoted, he would have to work as a 'Locum' and stand in for existing Inspectors until a team became available. Jericho was relieved that Wilson wouldn't be leaving the team; yet. He had a pretty good idea which sergeant would replace the big man and that made him smile; Alex and Owen wouldn't be happy with the replacement!
Mr. Colgate [the angels personal secretary] appeared in the doorway and
gestured for them to enter. They rose slowly and walked into Angel Margret's
private office. "Let Jericho do the bloody talking girl." Wilson
whispered to Alex as they lined up in front of the angel's large, ornate desk.
She was sitting reading a piece of thin glass and glanced up at Team 74.
"Nineteen living humans have been returned to the current timeline. By any
measure, that must be a good thing; except they all should have passed over.
That's bit of a problem, isn't it?" She asked no one in particular.
Jericho looked up and didn't smile; "If I could just explain
Ma'am..." But the angel interrupted her Inspector. "Jericho, you’re
not under investigation here, nor are Mr. Wilson or young Owen. No; Just our
feisty Alexandra; who really does seem, to have a problem with following
instructions.” She sighed and placed the glass sheet down and peered at Alex.
"Do you have any explanation whatsoever why you did what you did?"
Alex nodded. "Excellent. Let’s hear it." The angel smiled a little
and Jericho noticed that - he actually relaxed some - he knew the angel well.
"Well, you see Ma'am; I thought that if the ship had been taken by a rogue
time portal, then the crew of that old ship wasn't intended to die, they were
just...eh, misplaced. So, when James returned them to their own time; they
should still be living. So they can face their own destiny in the correct time
and they couldn't do that if they were all dead. If you see what I mean
Ma'am?" Alex almost smiled; but stopped herself. She saw the look on
Jericho's and Wilson's faces; Wilson actually ran a hand across his.
The angel stared at Alex and clasped both hands together on her desk; there was
no expression on her face. Finally, she said quietly; "Misplaced? They were
misplaced?" Alex nodded and did smile - a little; "Yes Ma'am.
Misplaced and we found them and returned them to where they should be."
Jericho joined Wilson in running his hand over his face. Owen just chewed his
fingers and tried not to grin, due to nerves. "Stop that Owen and don't do
it again." The angel said and waved a hand at him, and he stopped
immediately and for good!
"Misplaced? Now why didn't I think of that?" The angel sat back in
her chair and stared at Team 74. She picked up the glass sheet and then
replaced it. "Misplaced?" She said quietly and relaxed in her chair.
"So, nineteen souls who were lost – sorry, misplaced - were returned to
the current Human Timeline and that caused some changes; agreed?" She
asked the team, who all nodded their agreement. "Good, I'm glad we can
agree on that at least."
The angel sighed and then smiled; "You should have taken your misplaced
idea and ran it past your Inspector, before acting Temporal Constable Cappanni;
do you agree?" Alex nodded and said nothing. The angel turned to Jericho;
"The changes can be absorbed in the current timeline. I am of the opinion,
that had the rouge time portal not taken the ship, then the crew would have
lived out their pre-ordained lives. So, I do accept that Constable Cappanni
acted in the best interests of the Temporal Department."
Angel Margret sat back in her chair and gestured to the door; "Off you go, I understand that Mrs. Harris has prepared Alex's favourite; Treacle pudding. That's what it’s apparently called. But I need to see you Jericho."
The Team - all smiles - shuffled out the office, except Jericho of course. They
waited outside and each of them would have sworn, they heard Jericho and the
Angel laughing. Owen grunted; "Do angels laugh?" staring at his
nails; now back to their pre-chewed condition. Wilson just sighed and didn't
bother to answer.
Alex folded her arms and almost smiled; "I was a bit annoyed when Hugh walked in on me wearing just that small towel. But the huge smile on his young face made me forgive him. I'm sort of glad that he got to see something he really enjoyed before he died." She also sighed adding; "Lost in the darkness is no place for such a young man." Owen nodded and then rubbed his chin; "I'm younger than he was. Does that mean I can see you in just a towel...Please?"
Alex slapped his arm and said firmly; "No." Wilson laughed at seeing Owens’s disappointed face and the team members disappeared back to the lighthouse for dinner. Jericho followed some minutes later; clutching a Mission File and chuckling to himself; "Alex will go nuts with this one. A bloody trek through the Amazon jungle will not make her happy. There are no proper toilets!"
Chef Franklyn Moneypenny [and his cat] were adrift for some thirteen days before being picked up by the Spanish merchant ship; "The Isabella" who treated him well. They particularly liked Nelson the cat, who went after the rats on board with some determination - the ship had been plagued by the creatures - since leaving Port Christos. Franklyn was landed at a small island, run by the Spanish and quickly ended up cooking in the local fortress. He was well liked by his new hosts and lived the remainder of his life, on that small island. He died in 1774 and sadly, no soul was collected. It remains lost to this day. The fate of his furry friend is unknown. But even now, there are many big ginger cats around the island. No one seems to know why!
Captain Cole Ward was cleared at the Board of Trade inquiry, over the loss of the Queen Eleanor and the three men who apparently went missing on board, during the fierce storm. He had no recollection of the time travelling incident; James had cleared all their minds of that. He left the shipping line and started a small charter service around the Caribbean Islands with his old friend, the Boson. For years, he occasionally suffered a delicious dream about a beautiful woman that he had never met, but was passionately in love with. He died in 1983 after his charter boat was lost in a storm off Kingstown. His soul was collected and processed.
Boson Philippe Harris worked a few other ships for the shipping company that had owned the Queen Eleanor. But left their service and joined his old friend; Captain Cole, working his Charter Boat Service. He died in the same storm that claimed the captain. His soul was collected and processed.
Second Officer David Roberts gave up
the sea after the Queen Eleanor incident and worked as the Postmaster in a
small Dorset Village. He married and had two children. He died in 2007. His
soul was collected and processed.
Ship's Steward Hugh Dougal had
indeed suffered a heart attack; his condition had not been detected by any
medical he received, whilst working for the shipping company. He was just 22
years old. Sadly, his soul was not collected; due to him being out of his
ordained time period. It remains missing to this day.
Seaman John Ebbs could never
understand how he received the scar to his shoulder, but he continued to work
on various ships for the next decade, until he finally retired to North Wales
and lived out the remainder of his life, in a small cottage by the sea. He
never married and died in 1989. His soul was collected and processed.
Chief Albert Freeman was promoted and became skipper of
the cargo ship; "The Norseman' and ran cargo between the UK and
Scandinavia, until his retirement in 1990. He didn't enjoy it long; he was
diagnosed with bowel cancer the following year and succumbed some months later.
His soul was collected and processed.
Seaman Reginald Simms remained with the shipping company until his retirement in 1989. He joined the RNLI and went out on several rescues before ill health forced him to retire again. He died in 1994 and his soul was collected and processed.
Seaman Tony Groves was reported; Missing - believed gone overboard - from the Queen Eleanor. His body was never recovered. Sadly, his soul was not collected and remains missing to this day.
Seaman Jim Grieves [the helmsman] worked several other ships before retiring from the sea and ran a small bar in Cornwall. He proved a very popular character and host; the small bar flourished. He married twice and had three children by his two wives and two more by his mistresses. He died in his bed from influenza that turned nasty. His soul was collected and processed.
Seaman George Parish was transferred
to another ship of the Shipping Company and served a few more years, before
being found dead in his bunk one December morning. His body was removed
for burial when the ship reached North Africa. He had no family. His soul was
collected and processed.
'Captain Joseph Deadleggs' [the
Pirate] real name Walter Cuthbert Humble
and the survivors of 'The Boudicca' were adrift in their lifeboat for some
months. They resorted to eating their dead comrades and drinking urine. The
captain was the last man standing and died some nine weeks after the loss of
his ship. All witness to the strange metal ship was dead; thus, there is no
historical record of its appearance in 1757. His soul was collected and
quarantined until 2200; as was most of his crew.
One mystery remains unsolved to this day; there is no historical record of a white man on the island inhabited by the fierce cannibals, in the early part of the Eighteenth century. But in 1975, a hurricane struck the island and destroyed part of the old cemetery. Some workman clearing up and reburying the dead, found a stone tomb broken open and the human remains hanging out. It belonged to a certain Senior Jose Fellipe who died in 1774. What did prompt some questions was the strange fact, that the skeleton's skull had amalgam fillings; not invented until the nineteenth century! Inspector Dawn Daniels and Team 62 have been assigned the case; there is no resolution yet.
MISSION CONCLUSION:
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| SATISFACTORY |
Copyright © 2011-2025 Stephen Williams. No reproduction of any part without permission.