A Matter of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 1) (20 page)

BOOK: A Matter of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 1)
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- - -

“Come to us, Ichabod,”

“Shouldn’t I wait until you girls are dressed?”

Three beautiful ladies gently float in the underwater currents. They smile and lazily swim in fluid, languid figure eight patterns. They beckon to me.

I hesitate for they are only half dressed!

In fact, they're not dressed at all!

They are only half ladies, from the waist up. From the waist down, they have great, big, fishie tails!

To my great embarrassment, they are most immodestly attired... They ain’t got a stitch between them!

Well, one of the girls has a conch shell, fashioned into a hair brooch, but that don’t really count.

Gee, these gals are, uh, really pretty.

“Ichabod...” Mermaid body language beckons to me. Their arms and hands weave in repetitive motions, as if they are pulling me to them with an invisible rope. The fluid motion of their bodies and tails work hypnotic patterns. In unison, their irresistible chorus sings to me.

“Come to us, Ichabod.”

      “Be with us, Ichabod.”

            “You are for us, Ichabod.”

                             “Ichabod...”

                     “Ichabod...”

I go to them.

They circle me, effortlessly swimming in a lovely spectacle of underwater flight.

I am enchanted.

“You have come to us.”

“I have come to you.”

“You have brought something.”

“I have brought something.”

“Something pretty.”

“Something pretty.”

“We want it.”

“You want it.”

“Give it to us.”

“Give it to you..”

“wait... ”

“not.. you.”

“Give it to us!”

“This here pearl is for Miss Plumtartt!”

“Give it to US!!!”

What’s happening? The pretty girls are getting all ugly and monstery as they get mad.

“Give us the Reflector!”

“No! I mean, No, Ma’am!”

“Give it to us!

“Y’all ain’t a bunch of pretty mermaids at all, are you? I think your pretty hair was just a mirage, to disguise your layers of gills! You gals are the biggest bunch of fiendish she-beasts I ever did see!”


Eee-
Aye
-rRoark! If you will not give us the Reflector,
then we shall take it!

“Eek! I have my P.E.R.K knife, y’all. Don’t make me use her; she’s a proven lady-killer!”

“Hrr-R
eerl!”

“Yikes! Where did those dagger-like Piranha teeth come from? Don’t bite me!”

~slash!~

“Sorry, Lady! Zoinks! Stay away, you man-eater!”

~gash!~

“I really hated to do that, Ma’am!”

~stab!~

“Gosh, y’all’s scales are hard to penetrate!”

Chapter 40 – Lonely Hours.

Persephone

“The boy’s gone, Persephone. It’s time to be moving on.”

“No, Captain, wait a little longer, please?”

“It’s been twelve hours since the lad went under the waves. It is time for us to be under way.”

“He simply must return to me, Captain.”

“We were all fond of him, Miss, but it looks like Icky’s not coming back. I am sorry.”

Oh, Mr. Temperance, where are you? These are the longest hours of my life. Time and again I am been swept with the worst foreboding; nevertheless, I cling to the buoy of Hope.

Despair tugs at my heart, but I staunchly refuse to allow its entrance.

“I ask for you to be patient, Captain. I have the highest confidence in Mr. Temperance. He has not failed me yet.”

“As you wish, Persephone.”

Our schooner’s Captain turns and walks away, shaking his head negatively to his crew. All the ship’s hands slump a bit and return to their idle waiting.

The sun sets into the vast Pacific, seemingly to confirm Mr. Temperance’s demise.

Please come back to me, Mr. Temperance. Come back to me, Ichabod.

Wait; what is this light feeling I have? He returns; I know it. He is successful; I can feel it.

I cannot repress a smile from spreading across my features.

“Ha, ha! This way, gentlemen, Mr. Temperance returns!”

The disbelieving sailors follow me to the ship’s rail. I note several crewmen exchanging dubious glances.

“Look, there!” calls one of the sailors.

An indistinct shape slowly rises from the depths of the deep, blue Pacific.

The crew of the ‘
Scarlett Queen’
break into a disbelieving roar of cheers and applause at the improbable reappearance of Mr. Temperance. He breaches the ocean surface to a hearty welcome.

Mr. Temperance smiles broadly, waving to the crew, and then holds up an enormous pearl, larger than his own head.

Undoubtedly, this is the Talisman that we seek!

“Ichabod, I beg your pardon, Mr. Temperance! I am overjoyed at your return and success. Did you experience any difficulties, sir?”

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary, Miss Plumtartt.”

- - -

“Mr. Temperance?”

“Miss Plumtartt,” replies my American escort, taking my proffered hand and assisting me aboard this great ship.

“I reckon we made it back to Hawaii just in time! We just barely made it aboard this gigantic ocean paddler before she set sail for Manila.”

“Our timing; impeccable. Our rendezvous with the
Victoria
; serendipitous.”

“Ain’t she beautiful a beautiful ship, Miss Plumtartt?”

“Indeed, she is, Mr. Temperance. The
S.S. Victoria
is the crowning achievement of Plumtartt Industries’ factory and shipyard.”

“Wow-wee, what a ship, Miss Plumtartt! Even though I was on her sister ship, the
Triumph
, just a few weeks ago, this gal is no less staggering in her size and grace.”

“I personally oversaw her construction. With one of father’s uncanny Sol Furnace’s to power her, this ship is a modern marvel.”

“I sure am glad to see you happy again, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Mr. Temperance. I don’t know if it is my proximity to the ‘Orb’, or being on a Plumtartt ship, but I confess, I am positively jubilant.”

“Speaking of the ‘Orb’, don’t you think it would be a good idea to keep it close?”

“Indeed, it is a good idea, sir, and that is why I do.”

“Um, you ain’t got the ‘Orb’ right now, do you?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Hunh? Oh, I see! I thought your bustle was riding kinda high, but I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“Yes, quite, I say, I note that you are never without your many accessories, sir. I hope you are not put out at my adoption of your cautionary measures, eh hem?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“We have been on lots of pretty boats, Miss Plumtartt, but ain’t none of ‘em got nothing on big Vicky here.”

“She is first and foremost a passenger liner, sir. No expense has been spared to bring this ship to the pinnacle of opulence and grandeur.”

“Ach! Please do not be moving! You were standing just right!”

Mr. Temperance and I find ourselves under the extreme scrutiny of a tall, strongly built fellow. Dark eyes flash in consternation as he gestures at us with small, shiny, pointed devices.

“Turn back to one another, I was only halfway through cutting out your silhouettes!”

“Silhouettes, how delightful! I say, you really have managed to capture us very well, sir. What is our talented artist’s name?”

“I am Wolfgang Metzger. The sun had you two in frame perfectly; I could not resist!”

“Gosh, what a nice guy, Ma’am.”

“Indeed, everyone we have met on board has been perfectly charming. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Temperance, eh hem?”

“Yes Ma'am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am. Gee whiz, I sure am glad to be here with you, Miss Plumtartt. Oops, uh, I mean, here with all these wonderful people on this wonderful ship.”

“Hear, hear, Mr. Temperance. I am so happy to have boarded this fateful paddler...ohh...”

“Miss Plumtartt! You faltered and almost collapsed! Are you okay, Ma’am?”

“Yes, Mr. Temperance. I'm sorry, it's just, for a moment, I felt as if someone had walked over my grave...

...I am sure it is nothing.”

- - -

“I trust dinner to be to your satisfaction, Mr. Temperance.”

“Oh, yes, Ma'am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma'am! This here is about the finest spread I ever sat down at. How about your own eats?”

“Divine, Mr. Temperance.”

“Ain’t this nice, being invited to sit at the Captain’s table!”

“There are times when it is an advantage to bear the Plumtartt name.”

“Looky there at that pretty lady coming in, Miss Plumtartt. That must be Mademoiselle DeeDee Gauzot. One of the stewards told me she has a severe sunlight allergy, and can only come out at night.”

“The poor woman! Fortunately, she does not appear to suffer from the malady, otherwise.”

“No, Ma’am. Hey, she is accompanied by our friend Wolfgang. It looks like they will be dining at our table also!”

“A say, what a charming scene this is, with joyous travel mates sharing good food and...oh.”

“Miss Plumtartt, are you all right? All the colour has drained from your face and you look as if you could slip into a faint.”

“I, I, I, beg your pardon, Mr. Temperance, it’s just that I had a horrible sensation pass through me. It was very much in line with the vaporous feelings I have felt at the time of ecto-plasmic manifestation, yet it is quickly banished again.”

“I noticed something peculiar, Miss Plumtartt. This ship has scores of stewards spread throughout the ship, bearing lit torches. They seem to be in teams, and frantically alert. I wonder why that is?”

“Might I ask the table, is anyone else as concerned with this epidemic of horrible ghost attacks around the world, like Mademoiselle DeeDee, too?”

“I say, Mademoiselle, I am most emphatically concerned, hear, hear. Do you have any thoughts on the subject, eh hem?”

“Oh, no, Mademoiselle Plumtartt, I am just as shocked as anyone else to see these terrible things popping up, all over the world. Almost simultaneously, as well, no? It is a mystery, and Mademoiselle DeeDee cannot resist a good mystery, no? Oui!”

There are commotions and disturbances in the hallways. My sense of something being wrong grows more palpable.

Stewards now stand by with torches alight in the Dining Hall. They remind me of the citizens of Graz, in their keen and alert manner.

“Why all the torches, Captain?”

Captain Stewart appears flustered for a moment.

“Bup, bup, bup, it’s an old tradition we recently started. Buppity, bup, bup, er, yes. Harumph.”

I smell a peculiar odour.

“What is that peculiar smell, Captain Stewart?”

“Harumph! Ooh, what smell? Er, yes, hmmf. Steward!”

Two stewards run up and dispel the vapours with large rattan fans.

Mr. Temperance brightly enjoins Captain Stewart.

“I recently crossed the Atlantic on your sister ship, the ‘
Triumph
,’ Captain.“

“Hmm? Er, what, yes, that's a terrible shame about the old girl.”

“Ach, do you mean her recent quarantine?“

“No. Her demise.”

“What!”
cries the entire table at once.

“Oh! Er. Oops. Buppity! Er. Yes, blast it, that information is supposed to be confidential, eh what.. Harumph.”

“What quarantine?”

“Weeeeelll, it seems there were a few reports of ‘Ghost’ stories on board.”

“Ach, please to allow me to catch everyone up on the ‘
Triumph’
, since our Captain Stewart is reluctant, ja? Apparently, there were actually a great many ‘Ghost’ attacks aboard the ‘
Triumph’
. These escalated to the point that at the end of the last cruise, the crew mutinied. Or, that is, they refused to go back aboard once they had reached England. A few did stay aboard. The only ones of these who survived the night were the ones who jumped overboard.

There is excitement in the hallway. Several torch-bearing stewards run by.

I am briefly washed with a disturbing pulsation.

“Of what demise do you speak, mon Capitain?” asks Mademoiselle Gauzot.

“Weeeell, this is supposed to be very discreet, you understand. It would seem that saboteurs have wrecked the ship. Something about ‘unseen forces,’ smashing the ‘
Triumph’
like a blown up paper bag. The same sort of ridiculous reports we received about the Plumtartt shipyards a  couple of weeks ago. Really! Harumph.”

A high pitched chittering accompanies excited sounds of commotion from the hall.

Other Dining Hall patrons attempt to shush their table companions that they may listen more carefully. A burning frizzle is followed by an animal scream, but not a sound made by any creature of Earth’s bounty.

A steward with a smoke-soot-smeared face pops his head in and gives the captain a big smile and a thumbs up.

Something definitely stinks.

I sense the presence of unclean beasts on the ship. They form, and are quickly dispatched. I can sense it. I can smell it.

I have to raise my voice over mounting sounds of chaos throughout the ship. These sounds perturb the captain to no end. He very pointedly ignores them.

“Let me get this straight, Captain. The Plumtartt factory and shipyards are destroyed by mysterious, unseen forces, following weeks of murderous attacks with gruesome remains left in evidence, yes?”

“Harumph.”

“The Sol Furnaces! That must be it! They must attract these atrocities. Perhaps they open a portal of sorts, a rift, allowing something to slip into our universe. My father, Professor Plumtartt’s, combination of science and the occult helped him attain his goal, the Great Sol Furnace, but at a high price. Unforeseen consequences fall upon an unsuspecting world.”

“Good Heavens, the attack at Graz! The creatures were after the Sol Furnace there.”

“Harumph. Nothing bad happened at Graz. Harumph. That furnace was built on unstable ground, that’s all. It must've been underground caverns, that sort of thing. There is bound to be a reasonable explanation for the Graz Furnace being sucked into the Earth. Er. Yes. Right, oh, drat that information was classified as well. Harumph.”

The large room has become silent and my many Dining Hall companions listen, enthralled, as my dark reckoning continues.

“The ‘Ghost’ attacks have followed the ‘Sol Furnace’ driven ships around their global courses.”

“We are ambassadors of goodwill, Miss Plumtartt. Harumph.”

“The
Victoria
has touched every major port of the Pacific, the
Triumph
every port of the Atlantic. They have become plague ships in this supernatural pandemic. It caught up with the
Triumph
faster than this ship due to her shorter basin of operations.”

From the hall we hear the commotion of animalistic clacking, a fiery frizzle, and an unearthly animal’s death shriek. These sounds are followed by a terrible stench.

“Nonsense! Balderdash! Er. Harumph.” insists the Captain.

I pop up out of my chair as I see a mosquito, but grown to the size of a rook and with the body of a monstrous prawn, fly into the room. None can see it but I. Mr. Temperance puts on his goggles, spinning up the small electric generator on the headband. My shipmates are now my audience, watching me watch ‘it.’ They, too, develop a sense for the thing and so follow the creature’s flight by sound and occasional flicker of sight.

A group of monster-chasing stewards burst into the dining hall. I can see the grotesque creature as it flies about the room. It is in a confused state, not knowing which victim it prefers.

BOOK: A Matter of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 1)
7.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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