Interludes

Interlude 1

Exterior, the deck of Sir Cosmo’s yacht, Selene. Captain Will Sparrow and his First Mate, Sam Ax, are walking toward the rail. Wilhelmina comes running up to them.

“Captain Sparrow! Captain Sparrow!”

Captain Sparrow turns and smiles expansively. “How may I be of service, Miss Moriarty?”

“Do we have to hurry back right away?” she asks. “We still need to replace the pumps on Foxglove, repair the hulls of Foxglove, Selene, Skylark–not to mention the two new ships–and I to build a forge and find appropriate metal to make new cannons for Foxglove. Then there’s all the rockets we need to—”

Captain Sparrow raises one hand. “Stop, stop!”

“But you said we have to go back swiftly!”

Captain Sparrow frowns and looks up, as if consulting a list somewhere above Wilhelmina’s head. “No, what I said was, ‘He has declared himself lord of all the seas? How dare he! My revenge, shall be swift, and Terrible!’”

Wilhelmina nods. “Yes, so that means you want to hurry back, and I just can’t get the ships repaired in less than eleven days, even if built several Crystal-actuated Mechanical Men–which I can’t do because Mrs Salmalin would have a fit and probably try to erase the brain crystals, and there’s just not enough time to talk sense into her about them–and it’s going to take at least nine days to cast cannons. And I don’t have the Mark IV kites plans quite in shape to even begin on them and—”

Sam is staring at Wilhelmina as if he had never seen a red-haired girl before.

Captain Sparrow is shaking his head and holding both hands up trying to wave Wilhelmina down. “Wait! Wait! Wait! Please, just stop for a moment. Please. Take a breath.” After Wilhelmina stops talking, he says, “I don’t wish to tell you your business, Miss, but I find that it is helpful to take a breath every now and then while one is talking. If for no other reason than to give the listener a chance to absorb and cogitate on your proposal. Now, it is true that I said my revenge must be swift, but you see, it’s only---” He squints up at the sun in the sky, “A quarter of seven on the fourth of May. I intend to find Wu Chang and effect the demise of his contemptible life in retribution for the murder of my worthy opponent, Admiral Naismith, and avenge his destruction of the freedom of the seas before he has a chance to do it! What can be swifter revenge than that?”


Interlude 2

Exterior, shore of the island, where groups of sailors are felling trees and cutting them into planks. Nearby, Sir Cosmo, Wilhelmina, and several others are assembling a forge and smelter. Mrs Frazer and Mrs MacGregor are just discussing some interesting plants and an unusual insect. A large blue macaw sits on Mrs Frazer’s shoulder.

The Immortal Captain Jack Sparrow (great-great-great-grandfather of Captain Will Sparrow) saunters by in his usual unusual manner. He extravagantly bows to the two ladies, touching the brim of his leather tricorn as he does so. “Ladies.”

Mrs MacGregor murmurs “Good day.” Mrs Frazer politely smiles and nods.

The parrot bobs its head more enthusiastically and squawks, “Ahoy!”

Captain Jack Sparrow smirks and bows his head to the parrot, and turns to resume is journey. He takes only one more step before stopping, frowning, then turning very slowly back toward the two ladies. “Parrot?” he mutters. Louder, he asks, “Mr Cotton’s parrot?”

The parrot bobs even my enthusiastically and half-flaps its wings. “Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!”

Captain Jack Sparrow cocks his head, a quizzical smile on his face. “Cotton’s parrot! Imagine meeting you again after all this time!”

“Dead men tell no tales!” the parrot squawks.

“I think you’ll find that isn’t always the ca—” he begins.

“Excuse me,” Mrs Frazer interjects, trying to urge the parrot further out on her shoulder, so the wings don’t keep hitting her ears. “But do you mean to say that you know this parrot?”

Captain Jack Sparrow cocks an eyebrow. “Indeed I do, madam,” he says. “Cotton’s parrot sailed under my command for, uh, many years, off and on. Along with Mr Cotton, of course, until his health began to fail him. Appointed him acting first mate, once.”

The parrot fluttered one wing. “Hoist the colors! Hoist the colors!”

“Presumably before he developed the health problems,” Mrs MacGregor observes.

Captain Jack Sparrow purses his lips and furrows his brow. “I don’t recall the parrot having a sick day in his life.”

Mrs Frazer and Mrs MacGregor exchanged disbelieving looks. “Do you mean to say,” Mrs Frazer asks, “that you once appointed the parrot first mate?”

Captain Jack Sparrow nods. “Of course. He’s a fine sailor. Well, he’s quite good at giving certain types of orders, at any rate.”

As if to demonstrate the point, the parrot rattled off several commands. “All hands hoy! Weigh anchor! Hoist the mizzen!”

“Of course, he does have a limited vocabulary,” Captain Jack Sparrow continues.

“Son of a biscuit-eater!” the parrot retorts.

Captain Jack Sparrow glares at the parrot. “No call for insulting me, now. I am only speaking the truth. And I was about to say, he can convey quite a lot through delivery. Pitch and timbre and what-not.”

The parrot bobs again. “Thank you, Jack.”

Captain Jack Sparrow smiles. “And he knows my name, which is always a good quality in one’s first mate.”

“So this parrot is a member of your crew?” Mrs Frazer asks. “I am so happy to return him to you...”

Captain Jack Sparrow takes a step back and thrusts is hands out, palms forward, while shaking his head. “Oh, no, no, no, no. He left my service long, long ago. And I already have my ship fully, you know, obedient and self, uh, what would you call it? Self-motivated? He clearly has taken a shine to you, madam.”

Mrs Frazer shakes her head. “I can’t possibly keep him. We’ll be returning to London after the battle, and the climate there is quite unsuitable.”

“I’m sure if Cotton’s parrot finds the climate not to his liking, he will move on.” Captain Sparrow says with a brief smile. He turns away. “Always was a very resourceful parrot.”

“Perhaps I could return him to this Mr Cotton?” Mrs Frazer asks.

“You said he was in ill-health,” Mrs MacGregor adds. “Surely being reunited with such a dear, old friend will do much to improve his spirits.”

“Spirits is all that he has now,” Captain Sparrow murmurs. He turns back toward the ladies. “I’m afraid Mr Cotton went to his final reward long, long, long ago.” He frowns. “What year did you say this was?”

“1875,” the two woman say in unison.

Captain Sparrow seems to count his fingers. “Oh, yes, over a hundred-and-ten years ago, it was.” He sighs and shakes his head. “The parrot has outlived the man.”

“Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!”


Interlude 3

Exterior: Beach, Sir Cosmo sits on a camp chair in the shade of a tree, sketching. Occasionally he picks up one of several small assemblages of rods and cords. There is a lot of other activity nearby. In the distance, Wilhelmina, George, and MacGuyver are hammering metal plates into more boilers. At another part of the beach, the least seaworthy of the captured pirate ships has been run-aground, and is now being disassembled by a large group of men, including both Misters O’Flaherty. At another part of the beach, Insp MacGregor, Mr Salmalin, the armourer from Foxglove and some men from Skylark are working in the smithy.

Victoria approaches. “Excuse me, Sir Cosmo,” she says. “If you have a moment?”

Cosmo smiles up at her and nods. “Of course!” He gestures toward another camp chair.

Victoria takes the seat. “I was thinking that we’re putting so much effort into repairing all the ships, when they may not be the best way to damage Wu Chang’s forces.”

Cosmo raises one eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

“What if we took the Foxglove, which has taken the most damage, and instead of trying to get it back into fitting trim, we packed it full of explosives? Make the biggest explosion we can. We put just enough men on it to do the Sally Ship maneuver to put the ship in Wu Chang’s path.”

Cosmo frowns. “What happens to the men?”

“We’d pick them up,” Victoria says. “I mean, they evacuate as soon as the ship is in place, and we would pick them up later.”

Cosmo’s frown deepens. “In place...” he says quietly. “And how would we make sure a ship that’s just sitting there suspiciously abandoned in the middle of the ocean doesn’t blow up until the enemy is within range?”

Victoria shakes her head. “I was hoping you’d have a way to do that.”

Cosmo opens his mouth as if to say something. Closes it and frowns. He takes off his reading glasses and idly polishes the lenses while thinking. Finally he says, “The most insurmountable hurdle I can see to that is sending the ship ahead doesn’t work.” He slips the glasses back on. “Think of time as a river. Then think about a particularly treacherous set of rapids, with a couple of forks in the river along those rapids. From what Captain Sparrow, Lt Pellew, and Mrs Cuthbert have told me, leaving this island requires us to, as Lt Wooster put it, shoot those rapids. One may leave here on what seems to be May 10 of 1875 and come out in the ocean in January of 1877.”

Victoria nods. “I understand that part, but we’ve got a way around that, right?”

Cosmo turns his hands palm upward. “Again, trusting that Mrs Cuthbert is correct, Captain Sparrow is like a sturdy guide cable. You’ve seen barges use guide cables to maneuver through a tricky stretch of the Thames? Captain Sparrow is somehow anchored in time. If we go with him, we avoid the unpredictability of the rapids. But we all must go with him. If we send one ship ahead without him, it may not arrive until 1880. Or it might just as easily arrive last Thursday. If he goes with that ship, the rest of us are on our own.”

Victoria sighs. “I was afraid of that.”

Cosmo turns back to his mechanical drawing. “I’m not certain we could make an explosion big enough to damage a lot of ships, in any case. I didn’t have to raid Wilhelmina’s stash of autenite to make those mines, so we still have that, but it would only do the equivalent of a few hundred extra pounds of gunpowder. Speaking of which...”

“Yes?” Victoria asks.

“Lt Lochsley has confirmed that the cave we spotted the other day is quite full of bats. We’ve got some sailors detailed to begin extracting guano. MacGuyver says he could have a distillation unit assembled in another day or so. We need to manufacture more gunpowder. We’ve nearly exhausted the stores of some of the models of rocket.” He gestures at the drawing. “And this rocket kites are going to require a lot. Not to mention all the cannon.” He looks up at her and smiles. “Though Mr Salmalin has come up with a suggestion that will considerably reduce our need for training rockets.”

“Oh?”

“Mr Salmalin and George assure me that they can throw a person in a kite up with sufficient force to practice at steering the kite in flight,” Cosmo explained. “He’s correct that expecting someone to learn to maneuver the kite without getting distracted by the pair of rockets going off beside them is a bit much.”

“He’s going to throw them into the air?”

Cosmo nods. “For the first several practice glides, yes. Nonetheless, we still need more gunpowder, and I was going to ask if you would be willing to supervise the operation. Since you are quite good at chemistry.”

“Oh, of course,” Victoria says. “Any way I can help.”

“Also, my lady has expressed a desire to try once more to contact Captain Nemo—”

Victoria nods. “Yes, I think we should at least try to inform him of what Wu Chang has gotten up to while we’re gone. It is probably too much to hope that he would be willing to ally with us.”

“Mrs Cuthbert could probably use break from all the scrying on the battle,” Cosmo added. “I know how much the violence disturbs her. Lt Pellew is willing to take you out in Arabis and make an attempt. He was mentioning something about submersible signal flags.” Cosmo points to Wilhelmina’s group, where Albert and George seem to be exchanging sharp words. “And it would probably be a good idea to separate those two for a day or so.”

“Tempers can get short under the tropical sun,” Victoria observes. “Though it is a little worrisome. George is normally so even-tempered.”

“One might even say serene,” Cosmo added. “Well, one must remember that they are in some sense family, which can always complicate things.”

“Quite.”


Interlude 4

Exterior, deck of the Selene. Dinner has just concluded, and some members of the League are enjoying the breeze as the sun is setting.

Mr and Mrs Voach have just finished a quiet conversation. Mrs Voach heads below deck, while Mr Voach lingers at the rail. Mrs Frazer approaches.

“Excuse me, Mr Voach,” she says.

“Good evening, Mrs Frazer,” he replies. “I trust you had a productive day.”

“I believe we are making good progress,” Mrs Frazer answers. “I wanted to speak with you about the children.”

Mr Voach nods. “I see...”

“I am hoping to find an alternative to taking them into battle with us,” she says. “I am very concerned for their safety.  The near miss they experienced in our last naval skirmish has illustrated to all of us the danger of the situation, and the odds against us will be even more serious next time”

“I was relieved to learn that the children were not harmed,” Mr Voach says. “I hope that Miss Violet and Miss Daru are recovering from their injuries.”

“As well as can be expected,” Mrs Frazer answers. “I hope you can tell me if it would be both possible and safe to leave the children, along with Violet and Daru, here on the island until the battle is done. The Oompah village appears to be a safe place. Would we be able to return to retrieve them afterward?  And should we be unable to return due to an unsuccessful outcome...”

“If you were all to die in battle, you mean,” Mr Voach says.

“Just as you say,” Mrs Frazer answers. “Though one does not like to contemplate such an outcome, one must be prepared for the possibility.”

“It is the mortal way,” Mr Voach says.

“Which brings me to my request,” Mrs Frazer says. “As you seem to  have the ability to come and go here as you will, and to be, well, somewhat beyond our limitations, I presume that no matter what happens in this coming battle, you will... continue.”

“Although nothing is absolutely certain,” Mr Voach says, “it seems likely.”

“Quite,” Mrs Frazer agrees. “I wondered if, should the worst occur, you would be able to ensure that the children, Violet, and Daru, were not abandoned here. I’m not asking you to become responsible for them. If you could just return them safely to London. We all have family back in England who would be able to care for the children.”

“Ensure?” Mr Voach asks. “I would be willing to promise my best efforts, however, retrieving children left within a fairy realm is a tricky business. Even for a... dairyman.”

“Fairy? The island is an unusual phenomenon, yes, but I’m not— well, I suppose you are rather an expert.”

“On some things more than others,” Mr Voach replies. “The difficulty is that so much could happen while we are separated. The island is a realm of fairy. You may give it other names. Wilhelmina thinks of is a geometric anomaly, for instance, but the fact remains that magic has more sway in this place than in your world—and as you well know magic is not lacking there. Just as several portals exist between your world and this, portals also exist between this world and others. Some more dangerous than others.”

“That risk has been on my mind,” Mrs Frazer admits. “I had rather hoped the Oompahs could steer them away from such things.”

“The Oompah Loompahs are kind and loving,” Mr Voach says. “However, they are only minor fae of the brownie family. They could not possible stand up to the son of a devi.”

Mrs Frazer frowns. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Master Galen enjoys a blessing similar to his mother’s,” Mr Voach said.

“Yes,” says Mrs Frazer, with a hint of skepticism in her tone. “Mrs Salmalin reported that he spoke with the Voice of Kali and performed an extraordinary feat of strength when Daru and Violet were injured.”

Mr Voach shakes his head “It was not Kali who spoke through him, though I have no doubt that she smiles upon him as well.”

Mrs Frazer raises one eyebrow. “What did you hear?” she asks.

“In the north of India, where at least some of Lady Cowperthwaite’s ancestors lived, Kali is called the Great Mother,” Mr Voach explained. “One cannot be a Mother without children. And the deity whose voice I heard that day is one of Kali’s sons. One of his most prominent legends tells how, as a child, he tunneled through a sacred mountain to kill the demon lord Taraka. Finding a portal in a fairy realm may be as easier for Galen than tying his shoes. If something like that happened... I am reasonably sure I could eventually find them, but I could not promise how long it would take. The time is no matter to me, of course, but they might no longer be children when I finally located them.”

“Of course, that puts things in a very different light,” Mrs Frazer says. “If Galen thought his parents were in trouble... well, we have already seen what lengths he will go to just be bring her gun to her.”

“Yes,” Mr Voach says. “The blessings of a god, the willfulness of his Mother, and the intellect of his Father add up to a great difficulty.”

“We seem to have a great deal of that,” Mrs Fazer says.

The corners of Mr Voach’s mouth twitch, as if he is trying not to smile. “I have been meaning to thank you for all your efforts in Wilhelmina’s regard. I know that she cannot be easy.”

“No child is easy,” Mrs Frazer says. “Though some are decidedly more trouble than others.”


Interlude 5

Exterior, beach, early evening. Under a canvas awning is a small forge with associated equipment. The work is done for the day. The coals in the forge have not yet died down. Wilhelmina is tidying up the smithy, and as George has been recruited for another task, she has drafted Professor Oddbody to assist. Mrs Wooster is sitting nearby, sharpening several knifes.

“But surely you read the book,” Wilhelmina says.

Professor Oddbody hands her another tool. “No, no, not really. I tried to, of course. That was the whole point of the bet. Stupid prank. Don’t know what I was thinking. Should have just kept to myself and let some other dupe get in trouble. But no, I had to try it, and see where it got me?”

Wilhelmina points to another object on one of the benches. “You didn’t see any of it?”

Professor Oddbody shrugs. “It was in a language I’d never studied, yet the symbols seemed so familiar. So I was staring at the page, trying to make sense of them, when the feeling that the words wanted to be understood became very strong. One minute I was trying to read the book, then suddenly the words seemed to be reading themselves. Some irresistible force compelled my eyes to keep following the rows of symbols on each page.”

“Then what happened?”

“My eyes were following the symbols, and I seemed to understand them, even though I couldn’t actually read them,” Professor Oddbody explained. “You’ve heard the phrase, ‘the words leaped off the page?’ That’s exactly what happened. As I looked at each symbol, it just came off the page and seemed to fly straight for me. I must have fainted at the end, because I just remember the immense feeling of relief as I reached the bottom of the last page. The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on the floor, surrounded by several of the teachers and students.”

“What was it they seemed to say?”

“It was all twaddle and nonsense,” he answers. “Not in the least interesting.”

“I find most books fascinating,” Wilhelmina says. “Even the ones other people say are boring always contain something useful. I’d love to hear it, no matter how nonsensical it is.”

The professor frowns and looks away. “I’d rather not talk about it. You have no idea how uncomfortable it is, having all those words lurking in my brain. I feel like a cup that’s been filled to the brim, then set under a pile driver. I’m full to bursting, afraid to move, but certain that something quite untoward is going to happen if I don’t.”

“Information wants to be free,” Wilhelmina says. “Perhaps it just wants you take it somewhere.”

“It is full of wants, but never deigns to explain exactly what they are,” Professor Oddbody replies.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you wrote it down,” Wilhelmina suggests.

Professor Oddbody shakes his head. “That would be very bad. The wrong person might get it, and then where would we be?”

“So there’s a right person?”

Professor Oddbody shudders. “I wouldn’t like to meet them,” he says. “I don’t think anyone could use this responsibly.”

Wilhelmina cocks her head to one side. “So you do know what the information is for?”

Professor Oddbody looks away. “The only thing it’s good for is destruction and ruin. That sort of information know one needs.”

Wilhelmina frowns. “But any information can be used for bad things, if bad people get hold of it.”

Mrs Wooster mutters something under her breath and glances at Wilhelmina.

“Excuse me?” Professor Oddbody asks.

“I was just saying...” Mrs Wooster begins. She frowns and continues, “Some things are better not known. Just because some people think that they can be responsible doesn’t mean that they will be.”

“My point exactly,” Professor Oddbody says.

“Some problems would never become problems if certain people weren’t always keeping information from other people,” Wilhelmina says pointedly.

Mrs Wooster rolls her eyes and picks up the next knife. “Whatever,” she mutters.

“Your governess is right,” Professor Oddbody says. “Good intentions sometimes cause far more pain and suffering than malice aforethought.”

Wilhelmina sniffs. “The more informed someone is, the more likely they can make the right choice,” she says. “Aren’t you a teacher? Don’t you like explaining things?”

“I am a scholar and a fellow,” Professor Oddbody corrects. “Occasionally fellows are called upon to teach, but generally we potter about at our studies, occasionally write up the results and hope to get published from time to time.”

“That’s why I suggested writing it down,” Wilhelmina says. “Maybe if the information were set free it wouldn’t be troubling you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Professor Oddbody replies. “Things like that don’t happen to people such as myself.”

“Maybe you’d rather explain something else,” Wilhelmina says. “The research you were doing in Singapore, what was it about?”

Professor Oddbody frowns. “Generally speaking, young people don’t like teachers and lessons much.”

Wilhelmina’s face lights up. “I love to learn new things! Anything and everything!”

Mrs Wooster interjects, “You can say that again...”

“You said your professorship is history,” Wilhelmina continues. “Was it history you were studying?”

“You are fond of asking questions,” Professor Oddbody observes.

Wilhelmina nods.

“She never stops,” Mrs Wooster adds.

“I’ve never had a teacher of Esoteric History,” Wilhelmina says. “I think it would be fascinating to study.”

Professor Oddbody shrugs. “I haven’t had a student in some time,” he says. “Not sure I’d know what to do if I did have. I don’t recall that St. Cedd’s is accepting female applicants.”

“They really should reconsider that,” Wilhelmina says darkly.

The door flap of a nearby tent opens, and several people exit, including: Captain Tiberius, Captain Sparrow, Sir Spencer, Mr O’Flaherty, Captain Boythorne, Lt Pellew, Lt Wooster, and Lt Turner. Some of them head toward the long boats and launches pulled up on shore.

Captain Tiberius comes to the smithy. “Good evening,” he says cheerfully. “Quite a pleasant breeze off the water, isn’t it?”

Professor Oddbody nods.

Wilhelmina cranes her neck to look at the tent the others just exited. “Is Sir Cosmo ready to return to the Selene?” she asks.

“He, Mrs Cuthbert, and Lady Cowperthwaite are discussing something,” Captain Tiberius answers. “But we have made enormous progress on planning this attack. Speaking of which...” he turns to Professor Oddbody and smiles. “I have suggested that, rather than place all of the sorcerers in one location during the battle, that we distribute the mystical talent around a bit. I thought, since we already have a cordial relationship, that you might wish to sail with me.”

Professor Oddbody frowns. “I work better when I’m supporting another person’s ritual,” he says. “Less likely that our spells will collide, as it were.”

“You didn’t enjoy your journey on my ship?”

“Portions of it were quite pleasant,” Professor Oddbody explains. “Unfortunately finding out that one has been deceived and has only been offered passage on the condition that the person perform duties which he has no wish to perform puts one off.”

Captain Tiberius has a hurt expression. “I’m so sorry that you felt deceived. If we said or did anything that made you feel the list bit obligated, I assure you it was entirely unintentional. Perhaps working under a more clearly delineated understanding would be more to your liking?”

Professor Oddbody seems to swell up. “Unintended?” he asks, rather tartly. “Oh, that’s gall, that is. Pure and unadulterated!”

Captain Tiberius blinks, seeming quite surprised. “I seem to have offended you! Please, accept my sincere apology, and let me assure you—”

Professor Oddbody holds up one hand. “It doesn’t really matter. I have already promised Mrs Cuthbert and Mrs Salmalin that I would be assisting them in the battle.” He nods toward Wilhelmina. “And Miss Moriarty here has engaged my services as a teacher.”

Captain Tiberius looks from the professor, to Wilhelmina, and back again. “Teacher?” he asks, incredulous.

Professor Oddbody pulls himself up to his full height, and looks down his nose at Tiberius. “I am the Regius Professor of Extraordinary History at St Cedd’s College, in case you have forgotten!”

“Of course, of course,” Captain Tiberius backpedals. “I just wasn’t aware that you were taking on pupils. You know, I have often said that it would be good for the morale and cohesion of a crew to spend time pursuing more intellectual opportunities from time to time. If you are available for hire, I am sure I could offer a very competitive—”

Professor Oddbody sneers. “Hire? Do you think I’m some sort of tradesman? Like a common chimney sweep, or charwoman? I am a gentleman of breeding and education. I do not teach for money.”

Captain Tiberius opens his mouth to argue, but is interrupted by Captain Will Sparrow, who sticks his head in to say, “Listen to you, haggling with the girl over the professor as if he were a piece of property.”

“My point, exactly!” Professor Oddbody grouses. He crosses his arms angrily and looks away.

“I was just offering—” Captain Tiberius begins.

“I hadn’t realize that this was a bookseller,” Captain Sparrow continues, looking around at the smithy as if he has never seen it before. “I had thought it was a forge and workshop. How silly of me to judge a book by its cover.”

“It’s better than seducing a Mandarin’s daughter in order to steal a map from a well-guarded library,” Captain Tiberius says.

“That is a foul slander and utter lie,” Captain Sparrow says. “And besides, she seduced me.”

Wilhelmina and Captain Tiberius both snort in derision. Mrs Wooster mutters something disapproving under her breath. Professor Oddbody blushes ever-so-slightly.

“What I actually wanted to talk to you about,” Captain Sparrow continues, “is this flag business. I am not at all comfortable sailing under a British flag. What do you think?”

Captain Tiberius shrugs. “I was a bit skeptical myself. If I’m going to fly under any national colors, it probably ought to be the United States. Except, of course, that I don’t especially have permission.”

“You’ve flown under many flags in your time,” Captain Sparrow says. “That I can recall, Dutch, French, Chinese, Austrian, and that country that came and went a few years ago. What was it, the Confounded States of America?”

“Confederate,” Captain Tiberius says.

Captain Sparrow waves dismissively. “My point, my reason for bringing the topic into the conversation, is that you have already demonstrated a certain promiscuous and negotiable loyalty. Whereas Captain Will Sparrow is known far and wide as an entirely free and unfettered agent. Word might get about! How would it look if people were to learn that the infamous Captain Will Sparrow had actually sailed into battle under the British colours?”

Captain Tiberius opens his mouth to answer, but Wilhelmina interjects, “Of course Captain Will Sparrow would never sail for the British. But Captain John Smith of Portsmouth is another matter altogether.”

Captain Sparrow stares at her, open-mouthed. He blinks, closes his mouth, frowns, opens his mouth, closes it again, then finally smiled. “Of course! John Smith of Portsmouth would gladly sail under the British colours, and no one would even look twice if he did.” He winks at Wilhelmina. “Miss Moriarty, you are truly a dizzying intellect.” He then pats Captain Tiberius on the head, gives a finger wave to Professor Oddbody, and a salute to Mrs Wooster. “I bid you all, good evening!”

(The theme music for the first part of this scene is “Invisible Sun.” Track 2 on the soundtrack C.D. handed out at Christmas)


Interlude 6

Interior, the wardroom (the large conference-style room off the bridge) of the Foxglove. Mrs Cuthbert, Mr O’Flaherty, Mrs Salmalin, Major Powell, Professor Oddbody, Lady Cowperthwaite, and Mr Curry (Captain Tiberius’s Second Mate) are seating around the table. A large nautical map of the Indian Ocean and Bay of Bengal is on the table.

“No matter how we try, we haven’t been able to see how Admiral Naismith dies,” Mrs Cuthbert says.

Mr Curry frowns. “I thought you had already had a vision of his death,” he says.

Mrs Cuthbert shakes her head. “We’ve seen him dead. He and several officers, including Captain Rodgers and Lieutenant Cooper. All dead quite horribly.”

Mr O’Flaherty nods. “All covered in blood and mangled,” he said. “I figured they’d taken a direct hit from a cannon.”

“That seems the most likely explanation,” Professor Oddbody says. “It is a naval battle, after all.”

Mrs Salmalin nods. “And you’ve had several visions of the battle itself, during which HMS Griffon is destroyed under bombardment.”

Mrs Cuthbert nods. “I’m convinced there’s more to it than that.”

“Do you think Wu Chang has slipped an assassin aboard the Griffon?” Lady Cowperthwaite asks.

“Not impossible,” Major Powell says. “Slightly more likely would be for Wu Chang, through sorcerous means, to take control of one or more members of the crew. But even then, sabotage, such as setting a fire in the magazine, would be more certain of success.”

“If that is the case,” Mr Curry says, “it is not enough that we arrive at the battle to tip the scales. Some of us must get aboard Griffon before the assassination.”

Mrs Cuthbert nods. “Yes. And since we must set sail in the morning, we are running out of time.”

“Can’t we assume the worst and send one of us through ahead to warn the Admiral?” Mr O’Flaherty asks.

Mrs Cuthbert shakes her head. “We have to go altogether with Captain Sparrow. Otherwise we can’t be sure we will arrive at the correct time.”

“Agreed,” Major Powell says. “What do you propose, Mrs Cuthbert?”

“Using the mirror—”

“The Shield of the Sun,” Major Powell notes.

Mrs Cuthbert nods. “Mr O’Flaherty will call up the image of Admiral Naismith’s corpse.”

Mr O’Flaherty frowns. “I’ve done it many times before without learning anything new...” he says.

Mrs Cuthbert nods. “And then, while you hold the image steady in the mirror, I am going to attempt to cast the History spell on the corpse.”

“But that will just tell you the history of the mirror,” Professor Oddbody objects.

Mrs Cuthbert shakes her head. “This mirror is an artifact of the sun. According to legends the sun goddess Ameratasu possessed a mirror that would show her the future. In some legends it is referred to as a window into time. I believe that what we see is not merely an image.”

Major Powell nods. “That very well may work,” he says.

(theme music changes to “All Along the Watchtower” - track one on the soundtrack...)

Mrs Cuthbert takes hold of the hands of a person on each side of her. “First, we must raise enough power. And if we are looking at a window through time, we may need a lot more than usual.” She looks around the table. “Shall we?”
Proceed to Ordnance and observation

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