I did some writing on Hal's HTML timeship today
15.aug under «Ahoi! Lancelota is my name, but you may call me Lotta. This is Lizabeth, we’ve been friends since forever.» Said
«Welcome to our hood, The Bridge. It’s noisy, it’s crowded, but it’s mostly harmless. At least so we thought.» Said
«If you’re ready for a wyld ride, I’ll start my story. You can stop me any time you feel dizzy, because this is going to be a totally tall tale.» Said
«A long time ago on a Bridge far, far away.» Said
«The river was angry that day my friends! Frothing! Frothing around the pillars of Our Bridge. A glorious morning. The sun was shining, the gulls were singing!»
«Mine! Mine!.» Most gulls sang. We got this one guileful gull on Our Bridge, Loke we call him. You can tell Loke from the other gulls by his silence. Loke is always first on new food and always silent as the Grave. I’m watching Loke now, eating something. Eating in the frothing river. Loke is a big, brave bugger. Our river can be deadly when the mood is on her, like today.
WHAT is Loke eating? Is that hair? Do I see blond hair waving in the frothing waves?
«Shiver my timbers. Maaaan overBoooaaard!» I was climbing down into the icy froth before finishing my «overBoooaaard!»
What an explosion of colors and hurl-burly Our Bridge can become in a thight spot. They hauled her out of Our River an up on Our Bridge. More than ten men and women on the rope. Singing
«What shall we do with the drunken pirate.»
She was heavy. We found a cannonball on a long rope tied to her waist. «Albatross» we called her that morning.
What a sweet tiny birdy she was. Beautiful. Blond. In a blue dress. But who was she? Where did she come from? Why was she killed? It took us through many dangers to find out. But Liz and I we DID find out. We always do. We didn’t alert the authorities. We take care of our own, and a good thing THAT was, because the authorities REALLY got us into Troubles. Troubles with a capital «T» and an «s» at the end.
We had ONE clue now, the cannonball. The murder weapon. Some captains like to brand their cannonballs. And this cannonball had «JP» bossed on it.
So Liz and I popped into the Dodgy Dolphin for a spot of breakfast. As always there was a group of musicans and actors at the bar. We ignored them and went to the fireplace. A handful of sailors were sitting close to the roaring fire. I say «sailors», but they were pirates. We knew from a previous case.
We brought them a round of grog and ate our bacon and eggs in silence after giving them a piece of paper with my sketched «JP cannonball». It’s a mistake to ask a question off of a pirate. She’ll clam up. But shut up yourself and a pirate will start chatting like a magpie. Can’t help herself. Silence is torture to a pirate.
A red head in short sleeves showing her sculpted shoulder muscles. Slammed her empty grog on the table.
«Yall heard the one about how ol’ Cap’n Croock almost lost both his hands to a crocodile?» She whispered huskily.
I’ve heard several versions, but I wasn’t worried, because the tales all waried. Besides Werlin said «Watching a master busy at her tale telling craft is a short path to mastering that selfsame craft.»
The muscular red head pulled a big wad of chewing tobacco out of her upper gum. Leaned over the table and whispered. «He wasn’t old back then, Cap’n Crook. A beardless cook boy he was. We were boarding a french frigate in the Biscay. The weather turned treacherous in the wink of a lambs tail. And next thing the Captain was down in the Drink. How it happened, I didn’t see. Captain Pan was floating around unconcious. Helpless as a babe in a Bahamas jungle. Young Crook jumped in after. And wouldn’t you know it, a white shark showed up instantly. Some say Crook read about the trick in a book. The boy punched that white shark right in it’s white snout. A straight right. The shark gave Crook an insulted stare to the count of ten. Crook though didn’t blink. The boy stared right back, his guard up in front of his mouth. While the crew hoisted Captain Pan up with a yardarm. He was a wee tiny little fairy, Pan. Practically flew up and booped his pretty little head on the yardarm. Got himself booped right back to life and MAN was he furious! Cursing like a fishwife. Hovering like a dragonfly under the yardarm. Cook boy Crook looked up gaping. And THAT was when crocodile slammed it’s jaws shut on both of Crook’s hands. Crook got the one hand unstuck quick, grabbed the other arm and ripped his arm free. His hand was gone! GONE! I’ll never forget the blood. Cook boy Crook swimming down there as calm as you please. Beautiful technique. His red blood blooming out of his handless arm in spurts. Boom! Boom! Cook boy Crook climbed the bathing ladder himself. Lay down on deck with his handless arm aloft, blood spraying. Saying «Pardon me for laying down, but that swim took the wind outta my sails.»
«»
«Look lively Billy Jukes!» Roared Captain Pan down from the rigging. «Patch my cook boy up. On the double. Be slow and YOU’ll need some patching up.» Captain Pan never forgot how cook boy Crook saved his cute little bacon from the shark and payed with his right paw. So on his deathbed Captain Pan gave Crook the Jolly Polly.
And THAT folks is how it REALLY happened!»
We bought the pirates another round of grog and got out of there. Before dark we found out nobody had seen hair nor hide of Captain Crook or the Jolly Polly for years. We ask everybody who is somebody. And dear reader never forget to be prudent and particular with your local pirate. Buying her a few grogs will not stop her from selling you out to your enemies. More about enemies later.
Our part of town is not super safe after dark. So we went home to our beds.
«Who’s this Captain Pan when he’s at home?» Said Liz.
«He doesn’t matter does he, as he’s dead and all.» Said I.
It turned out I was wrong on both counts. Captain Pan wasn’t dead. Not even close. And Captain Pan mattered a LOT, especially to us. As you’ll see.
Just when we’d fallen asleep a bang woke us. «Uncle» Werlin had showed up, with five carpenters. First thing we know, all our three windows and their window frames are out of our bedroom wall. Moonlight blazing in through a boat sized hole in our bedroom wall.
«Do you young ladies have the first idea what kind of heat you’ve brought on? Forget about getting dressed and get aboard before you get got.» Werlin had a boat in our bedroom.
«Easy. Easy now. Where are we going?» Said I.
«It’s not a safe place, is all I can tell you.»
«Sounds like we’d me crazy to go then, don’t it?» Said Liz.
«You can’t stay.» Said Werlin.
«You watch us.» Said I
«I am bringing you in to the boss and she’ll tell you what’s what.» Said Werlin
«» I Said.
«Woah! No way. Not the boss. We stay here.» Said Liz.
«Yes way.» Said Werlin.
«Eeeaaasy. Take it easy. What’s in it for us?» I Said.
«A mission. For your sins.» Said Werlin.
«What sins?» Said Liz
«You’ll know what sins soon enough. Either from your Boss or from Geir the gauler in the Tower.» Said Werlin.
«So that’s our choice huh? The Boss or the Tower. My mum stayed in the Tower. She died there.» Said Liz
«Well…» Said Werlin.
«Drat that! Let’s hide somewhere else.» Said I.
«There’s nowhere else than the place I’m taking you to hide from THESE people. I should know.» Said Werlin.
«So what does that even mean? Who are THEY?» Said Liz.
«The right question is WHAT are these people willing and able to do?. In less than five minutes they’ll bombard this bridge, hoping to solve the problem-of-you-two the fast way. If you survive it’s the Tower for you.» Said Werlin.
«If we go with you, will that stop the bombardment?» Said Liz.
«Maybe. I’ll make no promises. But that bombardment is guaranteed if you don’t go and you’ll have to live with the blame. This way you at least TRIED to stop it.» Said Werlin.
«Okay let’s go, try and stop the bombardment. What do you say Lotta?» Said Liz.
«I say somebody will pay for this. Chasing me from my OWN home. I will hurt the right somebody for this. You’ll see.» Said I.
«Hop aboard already.» Said Werlin.
We stepped aboard the boat.
«Knock off the lock if you please mr Pedersen.» Shouted Werlin pointing at our bedroom floorboards.
«Bang!»
«Now wait a …» Said Liz.
«Badda-Bing!»
«Crash!»
«Swosch!»
If you’ve never taken a boat ride straight DOWN. Through the air. I’m afraid there’s no explaining the feeling. There’s nothing like your innards LIFTING off to wake you up.
Darkness flashed by and then we hit the waterfall and the lights. The Lights. What glorious lights.
I’ve imagined the future many times before, but never like this. Never with lights all over the buildings, lights all the colors of the rainbow. We came to a gut wrenching stop in a weirdly lit blue pool. White tiles everywhere and it smelt … clean. Brass instruments were playing an upbeat tune. A boy in a red and gold uniform was singing
«The light’s so much brighter here You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go downtown Where all the lights are bright Downtown …»
«What IS this place.» Said Liz.
«Southie. Or as they say in the future, the Southern Substructure…» Said Werlin.
«This is NOT the future?» Said I.
«No, no, no. We’re still in the 1554. But a time ship trip is doable. Maybe even probable. But NOT reccomended. Not at all.» Said .
[train station in LA]
«Good evening young ladies. I would have hoped to meet you in less dire straiths. Coffee?» Said .
Liz pretended to drink.
«As you know, «Below the Radar» is our motto.»
«Sorry sir» I Said.
«Yeah, you both know better than to deal with pirates.» Said .
«We do…» Said Liz.
«Because pirates have friends in high places, protecting them» Said .
«We…» I Said.
«And sometimes the pirates are themselves in high places, Like Captain Pan.»
«He is?» Said Liz.
«About this girl in the river, what have you found out?» Said the Boss.
«Weeeeell…, we only know one thing. The river girl was tied to a cannonball branded «JP». Which might mean the Jolly Polly, Captain Crook’s ship. Formerly owned by Captain Pan.» Said Liz.
«I know one more thing. The girls name and adress. Go talk to her family, take it from there.» Said the Boss.
«Yes Sir!» Said Liz.
«One more thing. The Wyat Rebellion.» Said the Boss.
«What Wyat Rebellion?»
«The Wyat Rebellion you’re traitorously supporting. Supposedly.» Said the Boss.
«Supposedly.» Said Liz.
«And thus are going to be locked uo in the Tower.» Said the Boss.
«What?» Said Liz.
«You know your sweet sister Mary. Mary does NOT need proof to lock up people she does NOT like. And would you say you both are “people she does NOT like” or does Mary like you?»
«NOT.»
«There you go. There’s a letter to Wyat written by your hand Lizabeth. Supposedly. This letter is better of burned. Am I right?»
«You’re right. Again.»
«THIS is the kind og heat you get from dangerous dancing with the dangerous Big Boys like Captain Pan and those like him.»
«But. But we didn’t dance…»
«You didn’t ask dangerous questions of dangerous pirates in a dangerous dive called the Dodgy Dolpin?»
«Well…»
«You’re right. Again.»