Shore Leave Part 2

Mercer had not considered how much work went into imagining a pirate ship. He had imagined the obvious parts. Masts. Sails. Cannons. Ropes. A wheel. The ocean. Treasure. Pirates. Hale had immediately begun asking questions. “What period?” Mercer looked at him. “What?” “What period?” “Treasure Island.” “That is not a period.” “It’s the period when Treasure Island happens.” Hale stared at him. Rainer was walking beside them through the meadow, hands in her pockets. “I understood him.” “That doesn't make him correct.” “It makes you annoying.” Ox followed a few paces behind, eating something from his bag. Kane walked at the rear. Mercer looked toward the trees ahead. Nothing had happened yet. He wasn’t entirely sure what they were supposed to do. The briefing had made the planet sound almost eager. Think about something hard enough and apparently reality would take the hint. Mercer tried. Wooden ship. Blue water. Island. Pirates. Treasure. Nothing. He looked around. “Is it working?” Kane said, “Are you asking us?” “Yes.” “No.” Rainer looked around too. “Maybe your imagination sucks.” “My imagination is fine.” “I'm looking at a meadow.” Hale said, “Perhaps five people attempting to create the same environment need to establish some common parameters.” Rainer stopped walking. “No.” Hale stopped too. “What?” “We are not having a planning meeting for fun.” “It isn't a planning meeting.” “You said parameters.” “Because there are parameters.” “That's meeting language.” Ox came up beside them. “Could be the planet don't know what we want.” Mercer pointed at him. “Exactly.” Hale looked at Mercer. “You have spent the last three minutes thinking about a ship.” “How do you know?” “You've been muttering ‘ship’ under your breath.” Mercer hadn't realized that. Rainer laughed. Kane walked past all of them. “Keep moving.” Mercer followed. “All right. Fine. Let's make it simple.” “Please,” Hale said. “A ship.” “What kind?” Mercer stopped. Hale smiled. Mercer pointed at him. “Don't enjoy this.” “I haven't enjoyed anything since we got here.” Rainer snorted. Mercer looked toward the distant water. “A big wooden sailing ship.” Ox nodded. “Good.” “Three masts.” Hale said, “Why three?” “Because pirate ships have three masts.” “Some.” “Mine does.” Rainer looked at Mercer. “Cannons?” “Yes.” Kane said, “No.” Four heads turned toward him. Rainer frowned. “You can't have a pirate ship without cannons.” “You can.” “Name one.” “A pirate ship without cannons.” Rainer stared at him. Mercer laughed. Hale rubbed his forehead. Ox reached into his bag again. Rainer pointed at Kane. “Fine. Fake cannons.” “No.” “Decorative cannons.” “No.” “Historically accurate nonfunctional cannons.” Kane looked at Hale. Hale immediately said, “I'm not involved.” “You're the history person.” “I am not assisting you in circumventing the Sergeant Major's entirely reasonable objection to artillery on shore leave.” Rainer looked betrayed. “Coward.” “Alive coward.” Mercer said, “Fine. No cannons.” Rainer muttered, “Terrible pirate ship.” They walked. Mercer tried again. Wood beneath his boots. Wind in sails. Salt in the air. A wheel under his hands. An island on the horizon. He could see it if he concentrated. Not just see it. Remember it. Not because he'd ever stood on the deck of a wooden sailing ship. Because he'd been there a hundred times anyway. The old book at home had been passed through so many Mercer children that the spine had nearly separated from the pages. Somebody had drawn a mustache on Long John Silver before Mercer was born. A map had been folded into the front cover until the creases had gone soft. His oldest brother had read it first. Then another. Then Mercer. The ship had been different every time he imagined it. Sometimes enormous. Sometimes small enough that he could see from bow to stern. Sometimes clean. Sometimes filthy. But there was always the island. Always the map. Always the treasure waiting somewhere beneath the dirt. Mercer smiled. Rainer looked at him. “There. That.” “What?” “You're doing it.” “Doing what?” “Looking twelve.” Mercer's smile disappeared. “Fuck you.” Rainer laughed. The ground dropped away. Mercer stopped. So did everyone else. Where the meadow had been, a narrow path now descended between rocks toward a cove. Nobody spoke. Mercer looked back. Grass behind them. Trees. The same meadow. Ahead— Ocean. Blue enough to hurt. Sunlight shattered across the water. A warm wind came up the path carrying salt and something else. Tar. Wood. Rope. Mercer felt the hair rise on his arms. Rainer walked to the edge. “Well, shit.” Hale came beside her. The cove had not been there thirty seconds earlier. Now waves rolled against black rocks below them. A wooden dock reached into the water. And tied alongside it was a boat. A very small boat. Rainer looked at Mercer. “That better not be the ship.” “It isn't.” “You sure?” Mercer looked at the boat. Two benches. Two oars. Room for perhaps six people if nobody objected to intimacy. “No.” Kane looked down toward the dock. “It's transportation.” Hale nodded. “Probably.” Rainer looked at him. “Probably?” Hale started down the path. “You wanted adventure.” “Adventure shouldn't begin with probably.” Kane followed. “That may be the first intelligent thing you've said today.” Rainer grinned. “I knew you'd come around.” ## * * * The boat rocked. Mercer did not like that. Not the rocking itself. The fact that it did so independently of anything he wanted. The planet had created an ocean. Apparently it had also created physics. Ox stepped into the boat. It shifted under his weight. Mercer grabbed the dock. Ox looked at him. “You all right?” “Yes.” “You grabbed the dock.” “I know.” “Pretty hard.” “Get in the boat, Ox.” “I am in the boat.” Rainer stepped aboard. The boat tipped the other direction. Mercer tightened his grip. She saw it. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” “Shut up.” Hale climbed in with considerably more dignity than Mercer thought the situation warranted. Kane got in next. Mercer remained on the dock. Four people looked at him. He looked at the boat. Then the water. Then the boat. Rainer smiled. “Adventure.” Mercer stepped aboard. The boat rolled beneath him. He sat down immediately. Rainer's smile widened. “Not a word.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “I still might.” Ox picked up an oar. Hale picked up the other. They looked at one another. Ox shrugged. “Row?” Hale examined the oar. “I understand the principle.” Rainer sat back. “This should be excellent.” It wasn't. For the first thirty seconds, the boat attempted to travel in two directions simultaneously. “Together,” Hale said. “I am together.” “No, you're pulling before I am.” “You're pulling after me.” “Which means you're pulling before I am.” Ox frowned. “Could mean you're late.” Rainer leaned toward Mercer. “I changed my mind. Fishing would've been better.” Kane sat in the stern with his arms folded. Mercer looked at him. “You could help.” “I am.” “How?” “I'm not rowing.” The oars crossed. Hale swore. Ox laughed. Then they found the rhythm. Not elegantly. But enough. The little boat moved out of the cove. The shoreline widened behind them. Ahead there was only blue water. Mercer looked for the ship. Nothing. Rainer did too. “Where is it?” “I don't know.” “You imagined it.” “We all imagined it.” Kane said, “That may be the problem.” Hale stopped rowing. Ox's oar pulled the boat sharply sideways. “Hey.” “Sorry.” Hale looked around at them. “The lieutenant said the system responds to passing thoughts.” “We were there,” Rainer said. “Yes. Which means it isn't necessarily waiting for Mercer to provide a complete design.” Mercer frowned. “What does that mean?” “It means we're all contributing.” Rainer leaned back. “Good.” Hale looked at her. “No.” “You don't know what I was thinking.” “I don't need to.” “That's hurtful.” “Was it cannons?” Rainer didn't answer. Hale nodded. “Exactly.” Mercer looked around the boat. “All right. Everybody think ship.” Kane's expression changed. Mercer saw it. “What?” “Nothing.” “You made a face.” “I didn't.” “You did.” Rainer looked at Kane. “He did.” Kane looked out over the water. “Think about the ship.” Mercer closed his eyes. Wooden hull. Tall masts. White sails. Rigging. Decks. Cabins. A hold. Treasure. Pirates. He stopped. Maybe not pirates yet. One thing at a time. Across from him, Ox had his eyes closed. Mercer wondered what Ox imagined when he thought of an old sailing ship. Probably fishing. No. Not fishing. Food. Ox had been asking about food since before they left the Enterprise. Mercer opened one eye. Ox was still concentrating. “What are you thinking about?” Ox opened his eyes. “Ship.” “Just ship?” “Mostly.” “What does mostly mean?” Ox shrugged. “Long trip. Folks gotta eat.” Rainer groaned. “We're going to get a floating restaurant.” “No, we ain't.” “Stop thinking about food.” “I ain't thinking about food.” “You just said food.” “You said food too.” Rainer stared at him. Ox smiled. Hale said, “Can everyone please concentrate?” Rainer looked at him. “What are you thinking about?” “A functioning eighteenth-century sailing vessel.” Mercer pointed at him. “See? That's useful.” “With proper rigging, watch organization, crew assignments, navigation—” Rainer's face changed. “Oh, God.” “What?” “You're putting bureaucracy on the pirate ship.” “Ships require organization.” “They're pirates.” “They still require organization.” “They're criminals.” “They still have watches.” Rainer looked at Mercer. “Stop him.” Mercer was laughing too hard. Hale turned to Kane. “Sergeant Major.” Kane looked at him. “You're on your own.” Hale resumed rowing. Rainer smiled. “Mutiny's starting early.” Mercer looked at her. “What are you thinking?” “Nothing.” “That is absolutely a lie.” “Pirates.” “What kind?” Rainer's expression became suspiciously neutral. “Normal pirates.” Hale laughed once. Rainer turned toward him. “What?” “Nothing.” “What?” “I didn't say anything.” “You made a noise.” “I breathed.” “That wasn't breathing.” Mercer leaned forward. “What kind of pirates?” Rainer looked out over the water. “Pirates.” “Old men with wooden legs?” “No.” “Dirty?” “Some.” “Beards?” “Maybe.” “Eye patches?” “If they earned them.” Mercer stared. “If they earned them?” Rainer shrugged. “You don't just hand out an eye patch.” Ox nodded. “She's right.” Hale stopped rowing again. “Would everyone stop helping?” Rainer's gaze had gone somewhere past them. Mercer watched her. Something in her expression changed. Not much. Just enough. She was seeing something. Somebody. Mercer smiled. “Oh.” Rainer's eyes snapped toward him. “What?” “You've got a pirate.” “No, I don't.” “You do.” “I have several.” “No. You've got one.” “Row the fucking boat, Mercer.” “I'm not rowing.” “Then find something useful to do.” Mercer grinned. “What does he look like?” Rainer stared at him. Hale looked between them. Ox stopped rowing. The boat began turning. Kane reached out and caught Ox's oar. “Keep rowing.” Ox resumed. Rainer looked toward the horizon. Her pirate was tall. That much she would admit to herself. Tall was practical. Strong. Also practical. Long dark hair tied back from a face that had probably gotten him into trouble before he learned to walk. A coat. Not some ridiculous costume. A good coat. Boots. A sword worn like he'd actually used it. Not a clean sword either. A curved blade with marks along the steel. He wouldn't stomp around shouting threats. He'd laugh. That was important. The bastard would laugh while fighting. He'd climb rigging instead of using stairs. Jump from places sane people wouldn't. Drink too much. Fight too much. Probably cheat at cards. And he'd have that smile. Rainer could see the smile. That was irritating. He knew he was dangerous. Worse, he knew he was attractive. The sort of man who'd lean too close because he knew exactly what it did to— Rainer stopped. Mercer was watching her. “What?” “Nothing.” “Why are you looking at me?” “You went somewhere.” “I was thinking about pirates.” Mercer's grin returned. “One pirate.” “Keep talking.” “I haven't said anything.” “You don't have to.” Kane glanced at her. Rainer pointed at him. “Don't.” Kane looked back toward the horizon. Mercer laughed. Rainer settled lower in the boat. This planet was stupid. ## * * * Kane thought about pirates. He found the exercise irritating. Pirates were criminals with ships. Everything else was decoration. Mercer's version had maps. Rainer's apparently had whatever the hell expression had just crossed her face. Hale's would probably maintain written duty rosters. Ox's would be fed. Kane looked across the water. If there were pirates, somebody had to be dangerous. Kane stopped. The ocean rolled quietly around them. He looked toward the horizon. Nothing. Good. “Ship!” Mercer shouted. Kane looked. Something had appeared ahead. At first it was only vertical lines against the sky. Masts. Three of them. Then white canvas. Then the dark line of a hull rising and falling beyond the swells. Mercer stood. The boat rocked violently. “Sit down,” four people said. Mercer sat. But he was grinning. The ship grew as they approached. Wooden hull. Tall stern. Three masts carrying broad squares of canvas. Rigging climbed into the sky in impossible webs of rope. Sunlight caught brass along the rail. A carved figurehead reached from the bow. Hale stared upward. “Well.” Rainer looked at him. “That sounded dangerously like enjoyment.” “I said one word.” “You enjoyed it.” Ox had stopped rowing. Nobody told him to start again. The ship was magnificent. Mercer had imagined it wrong. Every time. The real thing—if real meant anything here—was larger, rougher and more complicated than the pictures in the book. The hull wasn't smooth. Boards met boards. Rope was everywhere. Blocks. Lines. Knots. The sails moved with deep cracking sounds when the wind shifted. Wood creaked. Water slapped the hull. It smelled of salt, tar and something old. Mercer couldn't stop smiling. “That's it.” Hale looked up. “That is not the Hispaniola.” Mercer stared at him. “You cannot possibly know that.” “The proportions are wrong.” Rainer laughed. “We've been here ten seconds.” “The stern is too high.” Mercer looked at the stern. It looked exactly high enough to him. “You're criticizing the fantasy pirate ship.” “I am observing.” “You're criticizing.” Ox pointed. “Ladder.” A rope ladder hung over the side. Rainer was already standing. Kane caught the back of her shirt. She stopped. “What?” “Boat first.” “What about it?” “Tie it.” Rainer looked down. The boat was drifting alongside the hull. “Oh.” Kane let go. Rainer sat. Ox took the line and secured it to a ring hanging near the ladder. He pulled once. Then again. “Good.” Rainer climbed first. Of course she did. Mercer followed. The rope ladder swung away from the hull beneath his weight. He discovered immediately that rope ladders had been designed by people who hated legs. Above him, Rainer climbed quickly. Below, Hale said, “Move.” “I'm moving.” “You stopped.” “I am reassessing.” “Move.” Mercer climbed. When his hands finally reached the rail, Rainer grabbed his forearm and hauled him over. He landed on the deck. Then forgot about the ladder. The deck stretched beneath them in warm brown timber. Masts rose overhead. Lines ran everywhere. A wheel stood aft. Open hatches led below. Barrels had been secured along one rail. Coils of rope hung from wooden pins. Everything moved. Not much. Enough. The ship rolled beneath Mercer and his body adjusted a fraction too late. Rainer saw it. “Adventure.” Mercer looked at her. “I hate you.” “No, you don't.” Hale came over the rail. Then Ox. Kane last. For perhaps a minute nobody spoke. Even Rainer. Mercer walked toward the center of the deck. He touched one of the lines. Rough hemp pressed into his palm. He looked upward. White sails filled against blue sky. He could hear canvas breathing. He laughed. He couldn't help it. “This is incredible.” Hale was examining a block and tackle. “It is.” Everyone looked at him. Hale straightened. “What?” Rainer smiled. “We got Hale.” “Stop saying that.” Ox wandered toward an open hatch. Kane noticed. “Where are you going?” “Looking around.” “For what?” Ox shrugged. “Galley.” Rainer barked a laugh. “You have food.” “Snacks.” He disappeared below. Mercer walked aft. The wheel was bigger than he'd imagined. He put both hands on it. Nothing happened. He turned it. The wheel resisted. Then moved. Somewhere beneath the deck, wood groaned. The ship began changing course. Hale looked up sharply. “What are you doing?” “Steering.” “You don't know how.” “It's a wheel.” “That is not an answer.” Rainer came over. “Move.” Mercer tightened his grip. “No.” “I want a turn.” “I found it.” “It was attached to the ship.” “I got here first.” Rainer put her hands on the wheel. Mercer put his shoulder against her. “Get off.” “You get off.” The wheel spun between them. The sails snapped overhead. Hale looked up. “Stop doing that.” Kane leaned against the rail. For a man who had objected to the entire idea, he made no effort to intervene. Mercer noticed. “Sergeant Major.” “No.” “I didn't ask anything.” “You were going to.” Rainer pulled hard. The wheel turned. Mercer lost his grip. She took possession. “Yes.” Mercer stared at her. “You cheated.” “We're pirates.” “We're not pirates yet.” Rainer smiled. “Speak for yourself.” She planted one boot against the base of the wheel and looked out over the bow. The wind caught her hair. Mercer had to admit she looked irritatingly appropriate. Hale looked around. “Where is the crew?” The question settled over the deck. Mercer stopped smiling. Rainer's hands remained on the wheel. Kane straightened slightly. They looked around. Empty deck. Open hatches. Rigging moving overhead. Sails filled with wind. No footsteps. No voices. No sailors. Mercer frowned. “We didn't think of one.” Hale looked at him. “We did.” Mercer remembered the boat. All of them imagining. Crew assignments. Pirates. Food. Treasure. A man with a sword and a smile Rainer absolutely did not want anyone asking her about. Whatever Kane had been thinking. Mercer looked toward the open hatch where Ox had disappeared. “Ox?” No answer. Kane moved toward it. “Ox.” From below came a crash. Then Ox: “I'm all right.” Rainer relaxed. A second sound came from below. Metal. Something heavy being set down. Ox said something they couldn't hear. Then— A voice answered him. Deep. Rough. Not English. Kane stopped. Hale's head turned. Mercer felt something cold move through his stomach despite the sunlight. Rainer let go of the wheel. Another voice came from forward. Above them. Mercer looked up. A shape moved through the rigging. Human— No. Too broad. A boot landed on a yard high above the deck. Then another. Someone was standing there. Long coat moving in the wind. Sword at his side. Rainer stared upward. The figure stepped out onto the line as casually as a man crossing a corridor. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. A face shaped by ridges. Klingon. For one second nobody said anything. The Klingon looked down at them. Then he smiled. Rainer's mouth opened slightly. Mercer looked at her. Then back at the Klingon. “Oh.” “Shut up,” Rainer said. “I didn't say anything.” “You said oh.” “That was an observation.” Another Klingon appeared at the bow. This one wore a long dark coat buttoned neatly to the throat, his sash straight, his boots polished, a curved blade hanging precisely at his left side. He surveyed the deck with the expression of an officer finding his watch improperly relieved. Hale stared at him. Rainer looked at Hale. Hale did not look at Rainer. From below came Ox's voice. “Uh.” Something enormous emerged from the hatch. A Klingon. He had shoulders wide enough to make the opening look too small. A stained apron covered his shirt. In one hand he carried a heavy iron ladle. In the other— Mercer stared. “Is that a cleaver?” Ox climbed up behind him. “Cook.” Everyone looked at Ox. Ox looked at them. “What?” The Klingon cook barked something in Klingon. Then pointed the cleaver toward the hatch. Ox nodded. “Says food'll be ready soon.” Rainer stared. “You understand Klingon?” “No.” “Then how do you know?” Ox looked at the cook. The cook looked at Ox. Ox shrugged. “Seems pretty clear.” A rope dropped from the rigging. The first Klingon caught it. He swung. Not climbed. Swung. His coat opened in the wind as he arced across the deck. Rainer followed him with her eyes. He released the rope. Boots struck timber. He rose smoothly. Close now. Much closer. The Klingon looked at Rainer. Rainer looked at him. He was, Mercer realized, an extraordinarily handsome Klingon. That seemed like a strange thing to notice. Apparently Rainer noticed too. The Klingon's smile widened. He drew his sword. Steel whispered from the scabbard. Rainer's eyes dropped to the blade. Then returned to his face. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” The Klingon said something low in his own language. Then, in magnificently exaggerated English: “Avast, ye scurvy dogs.” Silence. Hale slowly turned toward Mercer. Mercer stared at the Klingon. Rainer looked delighted. Kane looked tired. From somewhere above them came another shout. “Hoist sail, ye petaQ!” Mercer looked into the rigging. More shapes appeared. One. Two. Five. Ten. Klingons moved through the ropes. Klingons stepped from below deck. Klingons emerged from behind barrels that had absolutely not been large enough to conceal Klingons. All of them wore some variation of pirate clothing. Coats. Sashes. Boots. Bandanas. Swords. One had an eye patch. Rainer pointed at him. “See? Earned it.” Hale stared at her. “You did this.” “I did not do all of this.” The disciplined Klingon at the bow drew his sword. The cook lifted his cleaver. The handsome one standing in front of Rainer swept his blade outward and shouted a long command in Klingon. The crew roared back. Then, together: “ARRR!” Kane closed his eyes. Mercer looked around at the Klingon pirate crew filling their ship. He thought about the lieutenant's briefing. Think before you think. Rainer slowly smiled. Mercer looked at her. “No.” “What?” “Whatever you're thinking.” Her smile widened. “This was your idea.” The handsome Klingon raised his sword. Rainer reached for one that had appeared against the rail. Kane opened his eyes. “Rainer.” Her hand stopped an inch from the hilt. “What?” “We are on leave.” The Klingon grinned at her. Rainer looked at him. Then at Kane. Then back at the Klingon. “Apparently so.”