Child of Time (39 page)

“We may once have done it ourselves but the mating
habits of humans are beyond me.” Drovak was proving to be fairly
observant. “It seems to be a very inefficient way of
reproducing.”

“Indeed, just don't tell him that.” Theo activated
the transporters and they were back in the simulator surrounded by
a map of the known universe.

Chapter Seventeen: Armada

It was a balmy summer morning on the coast of
England. The earth had that fresh wet smell after a night's rain.
Arthur stood on his balcony looking over the waves sparkling in the
low sun. Some low clouds lazily moved across the sky. Arthur
furrowed his brow as he intently looked for the figurative cloud
brewing on the horizon. The year was 1588 and Elizabeth the first
sat on the throne of Britain. The stranglehold of the dark ages was
crumbling. The church was losing its power over the minds of
people. It had been nearly a hundred years since Columbus had
opened the Americas for exploration. It would be nearly another
hundred years before the young nation would be born.

There were powers afoot that would stifle the infant
in its crib if left to their own devices. Spain was one of these
powers. With the blessing of the church they had a foothold in the
vast lands beyond the oceans and had discovered riches untold in
both gold and merchandize. Their treasure ships laden with gold,
gems and exotic spices plied the Atlantic fattening the purse of
king Philip of Spain.

The storm that was brewing today had many catalysts
and triggers. The queen had commissioned numerous pirates into her
services giving them the new title of privateers. They were still
pirates if you asked the Spanish but if you asked the English they
were defenders of British waters. The distinction was blurred by
any third party onlooker. Philip had been king of England when he
had wed Elizabeth's predecessor. He had lost the crown when his
wife queen Mary had died. The young Elizabeth had spurned his
proposals as he attempted to regain the control of Britain. The
enmity between the thrones was planted when Philip was instrumental
in having the church declare Mary queen of Scots the legitimate
heir to the throne. She was as catholic as he was and would have
undone all the heresies Elizabeth had unleashed on the world.

His plan was a dismal failure and Elizabeth's hold
was stronger than ever. Hoping to salvage relations with Elizabeth
he defended her when the church decided to excommunicate her. In
reparation for his gesture, converts to Protestantism rebelled in
the Netherlands. The last of his forbearance had been exhausted
when Elizabeth signed an alliance with the rebels and began
stealing his treasure ships. Today was the day that Philip would
place a catholic reagent on the British throne. What Philip didn't
know was that his plans hadn't taken all the variables into
account. There was more at play than he could ever have
dreamed.

“Arthur! There is a boy here from the docks with a
message for you.” Arthur could sense the specks of a huge fleet of
ships on the horizon. Humans wouldn't be able to see them for days.
He stirred himself and descended the stairs to meet his
housekeeper. Arthur's stooped weathered frame gave a lie to the
power that lay beneath his wrinkled leathery features. He had spent
a lifetime building ships for this day. It had taken years but he
had climbed the ranks until he was able to design every ship built
in the British Empire. The English fleets were filled with his
designs. He could have used the opportunity to build massive man
o'war vessels or forty gun battleships but he had instead designed
small agile durable ships. They may not be as many or have near the
guns of the Spanish but in a fight they compensated with agility
and precision. Without changing Britain's history he had changed
its future. There were fewer disastrous timelines and no one had
noticed his subtle changes.

“Manfred wants to know if you would to meet with the
queen's man.” Arthur looked at the young boy standing in his
kitchen. He couldn't have been older than seven or eight but he was
as thin as a shadow. A blackened eye told of the difficulties he
faced on the street. Arthur fingered the coins in his pocket before
deciding the boy wouldn't waste it. He had a couple of siblings to
feed.

“Here boy, spend it wisely. Miss Green, give the
young master a bowl of soup if you will before sending him on his
way.” Arthur's housekeeper knew better than to argue with him
besides she had a soft spot for waifs as it was.

“Ye will not be leaving until you've had a bowl
yourself.” The retort had a sense of authority to it. Arthur
chuckled as he sat down across from the wide eyed boy.

“Give him a piece of that fresh bread I smell and a
piece of cheese while you're at it woman. I'm sure he has a family
to feed.” Arthur laughed at the fleeting look of despair on Miss
Green's face. He looked old enough to be her father and in truth
was many times older but she still took care of him like a mother
hen. Arthur well knew that she had picked up the bread at the
bakery this very morning.

“You best not be keeping the Queen's man waiting.”
Miss Green was clearing off the table as Arthur finished the bowl
with a gulp. “Mind your manners, you going to meet the Queen's
man.”

“I'll not be having soup with him so I don't see that
it matters.” Arthur teased as Miss Green helped him into his coat.
It wasn't but a few more minutes and she had him bundled into a
carriage on his way to the docks. Upon receiving the loaf of crusty
soft bread the messenger boy had scurried off to find his sister
and share the wealth. Arthur was left to his thoughts as the
carriage wound through oblivious streets. Fog like a torn quilt
still settled in places between the buildings. The carriage jolted
to a stop at a long low building near one of Arthur's
shipyards.

“Arthur Waters, a fine day we are having today.”
Arthur sized Francis Drake up as he climbed from the carriage.
Manfred, Arthur's second in command was standing nearby.

“Not as fine as it could be. There is an ill wind
blowing towards us.” Arthur watched the squint form in Drake's
eyes.

“Manfred my good man, would you be so kind as to give
us a few minutes of privacy?” Manfred looked annoyed but knew
better than to argue with the vice admiral.

“Come, I have an office where we can speak in
confidence.” Arthur led the way.

“What have you heard old man?” Arthur turned and
appraised the man in his fancy apparel and well-manicured hair. One
would hardly mistake him for being a privateer captain with a
ruthless reputation. Arthur sensed there was more to the man than
met the eye.

“Merlin, you should respect your elders better.”
Arthur settled into one of the chairs and motioned Merlin into
another.

“My apologies, I was trying to maintain a cover.”
Merlin seemed a little upset.

“I understand, now about the fleet approaching our
shores. What do you have planned for their welcome?” Arthur wanted
to know if he needed to adjust his plans any.

“Officially a fishing schooner came in this morning
and reported a mass of ships approaching. Unofficially I knew the
Spanish armada was coming for years. I couldn't avoid it no matter
what I tried.” Merlin held his head in his hands as he
finished.

“Yes, yes I knew about is sixty years ago when I
started working at the shipyard.” Arthur watched the look on
Merlin's face. “I control all the shipyards now and have been
preparing for years. I was ready a couple years ago but then you
managed to sack thirty some odd Spanish ships setting the armada
back a couple years.”

“I had hope the English could have some bigger
warships by now.” Merlin looked frustrated. “They have more than a
hundred and thirty battleships and I have thirty-four warships a
fraction of a galleon's size.”

“My warships are not to be trifled with as you well
know. Call the merchants, offer them any plunder they can find. I'm
sure you can scare up a hundred or so.” Arthur wasn't worried, he
had been in battles spanning star systems and galaxies. A few ships
subject to the whims of gravity and water didn't concern him much.
“Have you any plans?”

“If they try for the channel, I have several hulks
prepared with oil. I can sail then into their fleet and explode
them.” Merlin was still unhappy.

“I could easily have worked on many of those hulks in
their day but they will have an honorable end.” Arthur stood up and
moved towards the door. “Chase them down the coast, I will have a
surprise waiting for them.”

“Oh by the way, John Hawkins says he designed these
warships. He preaches their merits same as you. How is that?” Drake
turned a laughing eye on Arthur as he followed him through the
warehouse.

“If history were to know that the fleet that
withstood the Spanish Armada was built by someone like me they
would never accept it. John Hawkins on the other hand is a name
that will be known with the Spanish Armada someday. It is only his
due, after all it is his job as treasurer and controller of the
Royal Navy.” Arthur leaned on his cane as he rounded the corner to
see Manfred waiting. “Hawkins should think he designed them, I've
been planting the ideas in his head for years now.”

“Good day to you, I have many arrangements to take
care of today.” Francis Drake climbed on his charger and was soon
lost to sight in the waking city.

“My good Manfred, the Spanish Armada is approaching
and will soon be here. I need you to tell every merchantman you can
that our shipyards are offering free retrofits to anyone who can
fit a cannon and is willing to fight for honor, glory and riches.
Stress the last one will you good chap. Oh and ready my schooner. I
must needs go down the coast on the morrow.” Manfred nearly
collapsed at Arthur's words but he soon recovered.

“Very well but I must protest. You can't mean to go
out and engage them with your ship alone.” Manfred was processing
the new information remarkably well. Over the years he had gotten
used to the eccentricities of his employer.

“Oh have no fear. An old salt in a schooner would
have not the faintest hope against a galleon. Never the less I do
need to go down the coast to attend to something.” I will have my
crew with me so not a thing to worry about. Arthur left the
perplexed Manfred rushing off to carry out his orders.

Arthur's housekeeper insisted on accompanying him on
the trip until he managed to convince her he would be fine. “It
will only be a few days and I will be back before you know it.
Besides if any of my orphans show up someone needs to take care of
them.”

“Fine but I don't have to be happy about it. You get
back safe and sound or so help me I'll put a tomato in your
supper.” Arthur withheld a laugh as Miss Green walked away.

Someday, someday because of what we will do,
people will eat tomatoes without fear of poison.
Arthur mused
to himself as he packed a bag. He spent the rest of the day and
most of the evening visiting several captains and merchant men
convincing many of them to arm their ship and join Drake on the
morrow. Morning found him at the pier as the Silver Fish slid into
her berth. Manfred and a couple deckhands clambered down the
gangplank that was lowered.

“Those your boys?” Manfred motioned to the telepathic
projections Arthur had standing behind him.

“Indeed, some of the finest sailors in the whole of
Britain.” Arthur let Manfred steady him as he climbed aboard his
ship.

“You are sure you don't want any of my boys going
with you? The Scots don't take none too kindly to an Englishman.”
Manfred was disappointed at Arthur's refusal but there was nothing
more to be said about it. “There are more than a hundred merchant
men that took up your offer of a free refit.”

“Good, good, more than I had hoped. Drake will be
pleased.” Arthur began lifting the gang plank with a couple of his
projections and telekinesis. It wasn't but a couple minutes before
they were on their way. A gentle breeze filled the sails and he
glided out of the harbor into the morning swells. Arthur dropped
the charade when he had sailed beyond the harbor and prying eyes.
It felt good to ease the bounds of a mortal and exercise his
power.

Bending a wind into the sails and controlling the
ship with his mind he flew down the coast. The fleet should be
coming around the islands now. The anchor was dropped and the wait
began He watched the stars move around Polaris, the north star, as
the night wore on. He could dimly sense a battle raging up the
coast. The dusk melted into dawn as Arthur prepared himself. Hours
passed as the armada attempted to regroup. They were being harried
by Drake's fleet as they retreated down the coast. Arthur began
levitating above the deck of the Silver Fish. Lightning stretched
from his fingers as the energy built up. Dark clouds formed as a
chilled wind began to whip the waves into foam. There was a
blinding flash as lightning splintered the mast of the Silver Fish.
Flashes lit the darkened sky as electricity discharged between the
clouds. The ship dwindled as Arthur lifted into the sky.

The wind tore at him as he dissipated into pure
energy. The swirling mists and fog embodied Arthur's will as he
lashed the ocean into waves. In this form there was little control
over his power, primordial instincts with a vague sense of
direction was all he had. What was left of the Armada was pushed
into the lowering storm by Drake's fleet. The massive hulls
weakened by the English cannon fire crumbled before Arthur's wrath.
Dozens of ships smashed against the rocky coast hidden by the thick
water vapors. Arthur finally let the ravaged fleet slip past his
storm as he felt their despair and broken wills.

Britain was safe but Arthur wouldn't be able to take
caporal form for another fifty years or so. By then he would have
to assume a new role on the protection of history. Miss Green would
be heartbroken when she learned of the wreckage of the Silver Fish
but it had to be. Arthur had left instruction in the event of his
death. She could be the mother she had never been able to. His will
left her well cared for as long as she would live. He had seen
glimpses of his house filled with waifs being cared for by Miss
Green. Merlin, well he was an ascended, he never showed up in the
glimpses of the future. He was bound to have many roles in the next
half century