Second Chance Bird, Episode Twelve
Written by Garrett W. Vance
Chapter Sixty-five: The Butterfly Effect
Northeast Mauritius, Dutch Refugee Camp
Pam awoke in a nest deep in the meadow, naked, a warm, masculine arm draped over her shoulder. She blinked for a moment or two, trying to remember just how she had ended up here, then laughed as the memory came, with all it's terrors and thrills. It wasn't quite dawn yet, so she closed her eyes for a few more minutes, soaking in the heat emanating from her Swedish sea captain, a comfort in the cool morning air. Pam heard a noise in the distance, the low moaning of a cow ready to be milked. Gently removing the delightful arm, she sat up, and began wondering where her clothes were! She found them soon enough, blushing at the thought of the entire camp turned out to look for them, and finding them bare as newborns!
Pam laughed as she pulled the charmingly simple white dress over her sunburnt and thorn scratched body. She awakened Torbjörn with a gentle kiss, his smile adding a further brightness to the sunrise. Pam had just been through living hell, but right now, at this moment she realized she was about the happiest she had ever been. "Hooray for me!" she whispered to herself, as she helped her still drowsy man find his clothes.
They held hands as they waded back across the river and up the narrow trail to the Dutchmen's camp. Doctor Durand saw her, and began to walk over to her in his courtly, yet ground eating stride,
"Ah, back to work." Pam said as she let go of Torbjörn's hand with a last squeeze. He smiled at her and raised his hand in greeting to the doctor.
"Ah, Captains Pam and Torbjörn! I hope you had a good rest. How is that injury feeling?"
Pam tried to smile as she gently rubbed the back of her head where it had connected with a large-ish stone, but grimaced instead. The constant throbbing was gone, but it had been replaced by a dull ache. Fortunately, this seemed to be slowly receding into the distance; she was on the mend.
"Better, I think. Much better, really."
"Excellent!" the doctor was pleased to see his patient on the mend. "Ah, just a moment, I have something that belongs to you." With a rather grim scowl he pulled the knife she had used to kill two men the day before out of his medical bag. "It took myself, aided by the considerable strength of Sergeant Gerbald, to pry this back out of that fellow's skull." He handed it to Pam with a wry grin, as if presenting a noble with a fine sword.
Pam took the blade from him with a grin of her own, and slid it into the waist strings of her dress. "Thank you, Doctor, much obliged. That knife saved my life twice yesterday."
"May it continue to serve you so well," the doctor replied with a small bow.
"Is Gerbald up yet?"
"I haven't seen him. The Dutch ladies have prepared a breakfast. Will you join me?"
"In a moment. I want to go get Gerbald up, you two go ahead." She gave Torbjörn a squeeze of the hand and favored them both with a bright smile as they followed the delicious aroma. Pam took a stroll around the edge of the clearing, looking for telltale signs of the great woodsman. After a few minutes she found a large pile of boughs just outside of camp with a mustard yellow hat visible beneath the branches; Gerbald's nest.
"Better get up before a dodo hen comes along and lays an egg in your hat." she said, giving the pile a light push with her boot. The branches began to stir, the ridiculous floppy hat rising to reveal a drowsy-eyed, salt-and-pepper stubbled face.
"Ah, good morning Pam. You look refreshed." A twinkle of mischief was visible in his sky blue eyes.
"I feel it. Even so, I'm still pretty damn tired, running from brigands takes it out of you. So, how far do you think we are from home?"
"Well, we followed you up into the foothills, and then back down the river. According to the uptime map the river's mouth is only about five miles north of the colony."
"So, how do we get all of us back there?"
"I say we follow the coast, which will be a bit longer than as the crow flies, but easier going I think. With luck much of it will be sandy beach."
"Okay, that's good news. I'm pretty beat, but I think I can make five miles. Let's have breakfast, then get the Dutch organized for the trip."
As they entered camp it became plain that the Dutch were already getting themselves organized, packing up their few belongings and preparing to break camp. Harmannus and Lijss greeted them, their lined faces bright with anticipation, so unlike the desperate refugees of the day before. Rescue had come. After months hiding in the forest they were safe in the hands of people they could trust.
"Good morning, Captain Pam, Sergeant Gerbald!" they hailed in cheery tones. "Please, come eat!"
"Good morning, Harmannus, Lijss!" Pam replied, taking Ljiss's proffered hands in warm greeting while Gerbald shook hands with Harmannus.
"Thank you for your hospitality!" Pam said, pleased to see her new friends so happy.
"It is nothing," Ljiss said "You and your men are our saviors. We have been living in fear for so long, suffering much. Our future is bright again, thanks to you." Her brown eyes were full of a new sparkle. Pam bowed her head, a sense of pride welling up in her. It's funny, she thought, how good things can come from even the most awful circumstances.
Entering the clearing, Pam looked across to see the lone survivor of her kidnappers, a surly looking troll of a man. He was bound carefully, and leashed to a particularly dangerous looking Swede, a fellow named Järv she thought, who guarded his captive with a ferocious intensity. The French bandit looked up at her with a menacing sneer. Pam stepped forward, putting her hand on her knife's hilt. "What the fuck are you looking at?" she snarled. The foolish bandit turned pale, and drooped his head down meekly, remembering just how deep a danger he was in. None of this was missed by vigilant Järv, who cuffed the prisoner smartly on the ear, sending him to his knees. Pam, not feeling at all inclined toward sympathy for her former captor, gave Järv a bright smile which he returned; two predators celebrating a successful hunt.
At breakfast she sat between Gerbald and Doctor Durand on the comfortable log. Torbjörn who could speak a bit of Dutch as it turned out, had finished quickly, and was now guiding the Swedish crew in helping the villagers pack up. They enjoyed a meal of cheese, cured ham, and fresh baked bread with butter; simple, and utterly delicious. One by one and two by two the entire Dutch camp came by to thank them again for coming to their aid. Pam was deeply touched, and a little bit embarrassed at their profound sense of gratitude. As they finished their meal she mused on something that had been troubling her.
"You know, in the up-time history there is no mention of a Dutch colony on Mauritius until 1638, a few years from now."
Doctor Durand pulled on his ornate mustachio in thought. "Could the early arrival of these people have something to do with this so called Grantville 'butterfly effect' that is changing our history?"
"I suppose so. Of course, sometimes the history books are wrong. It is, after all, just a matter of a few years," Pam replied.
Gerbald looked up at the bright morning sky, then spoke softly. "I think I know what happened."
Pam and the Doctor turned to him with great interest. After collecting his thoughts for a moment, he continued.
"Pam, we captured your Chinese junk from that murderous band of Arab-type pirates. If I recall they were on a northerly course when they stopped at our cove . . . "
Pam's eyes widened as she processed the implications of that. Her voice was hushed as she picked up the thread Gerbald had laid.
"And, we killed them all."
"Precisely."
Doctor Durand stopped playing with his mustachio and said "The butterfly effect!"
Gerbald nodded to Pam, who was looking a bit awed, signaling her to finish the thought.
"In my former timeline there would have been no Swedish colonists, and no French pirates inspired by stories from up-time between there and here . . . " Pam closed her eyes, trying once again to process the ongoing strangeness that time travel had brought to her life.
"Without us to stop them, the pirate junk would have arrived to find this little Dutch settlement undefended. Unlike the French, they would have taken no prisoners, or let anyone escape into the woods."
A cold chill went down her back at the thought of Harmannus and his gentle villagers falling beneath the razor sharp blades of those horrid men, as they surely did in that other world.
"You know guys, I haven't always found my new life in your century easy, but sometimes I do find it rewarding. I'm glad we were here to help these people. We have done good."
Gerbald and Durand both nodded emphatically.
"Now, let's get the hell out of here. I have a very comfortable bed waiting for me, and I want to be in it by nightfall!" Muscles sore from her recent adventures, Pam used each man's shoulder to help pull herself up, then went to look for something to do to assist in the move.
Chapter Sixty-six: Homecoming
Just before noon, the people and their farm animals began trickling down the trail to the river, leaving their woodland refuge behind. Upon crossing the shallow waters, everyone gathered at a mustering point in the wide, meadows beyond. With Gerbald leading the way, they followed the river down to the sea. The azure brilliance of it filled Pam with joy. Her ordeal was over, and she would soon be back amongst those she loved. They walked southward down long, sandy beaches, occasionally having to find their way behind rocky promontories.
After a few miles of travel, Pam began to feel dizzy. Although the temperature was comfortable, the noon day sun felt oppressive, a heavy heat on her shoulders. Someone handed her a scarf, which she tied over her head, but it provided scant relief. The white sand beneath her feet began to blur, morphing from an expanse of sparkling grains into the silky white sheets of a great, soft bed. She paused, then knelt down, the palms of her hands unexpectedly burning as the sheets became sand again. She tried to stand back up, but her head was pounding, tiny red stars swirling before her eyes.
She felt hands grip her, and cried out in alarm, had the ogres that had tortured her so these last few days returned from the dead? Then she realized the voices belonged to her dear friends, faithful Gerbald, and that hunky Swedish sea captain that looked like a young Kris Kristofferson. She relaxed then, and allowed herself to melt into strong, gentle arms.
"I'll spell you in a while," Gerbald told Torbjörn with a brotherly clap on the back. Torbjörn smiled contentedly as he carried the exhausted Pam over the shining sands toward home. She wasn't heavy at all.
****
"Pam. Pam." A voice in her ear. She liked that voice. It was deep but soft, and what a cute accent!
"Pam, we are almost back to the colony. Do you want to wake up?" Torbjörn's beard tickled her ear and she laughed, opening her eyes. It was early evening, the sun had already passed behind the mountains of the interior, and the scene had a delicate purple cast to it.
"Okay, sweetness, let me down. Thanks for carrying me," she told him with a kiss on the cheek.
"My pleasure. Here, look, the people are already coming to meet us."
Down the beach a familiar sight came into view, the docks and their odd collection of ships, and the fortified wall running above the waterfront, already sporting lamps alight with flickering gold. Pam held onto Torbjörn's arm, her feet sore from the trials of the chase. She was almost home, her personal ship, the Second Chance Bird looked like a floating palace on the shores of paradise to her tired eyes. It soon became apparent that the entire population was turning out to greet them, and so Pam put on a brave face, hoping she could assure everyone that she was all right and then go to bed as soon as possible. Having caught sight of them coming around the point, the crowd surged down the beach, some carrying lanterns and torches in the fading light. As she suspected might happen, Pers reached her first, his long legs propelling him across the sand faster than any of the colony's other youths. He came to a stop in front of her and just stood panting, his face having a hard time deciding whether it wanted to smile or cry. Pam simply stepped over to him and gave him a big hug, which he gingerly returned before shyly freeing himself.
"We were so worried for you, Pam," he told her breathlessly.
"I know. I was, too. But look, here I am, a little worse for the wear but in pretty good shape all things considered. She gently touched his cheek. "Are you well Pers? How is your head?"
"I still have bit of a knot back there, but I'm much better, thanks. I guess I was pretty out of it."
"You were, my dear. I was scared to death for you! Well, now we're twins, check this out." She turned, pulling back her tangle of hair to show him her own knot.
"What happened?" Pers said with alarm.
"I got hit on the head with a big rock by a bad guy."
Pers' face darkened.
"Where is he? I'll teach him a lesson," he said with an uncharacteristically ferocious scowl and clenched fists, which made Pam laugh.
"It's okay, tiger. He's already gotten his payback, I saw to that. Long story, for later. Here come Dore and the bosun!"
Neither of those two could be called athletes, but they were making good time across the sand. Dore reached Pam first, wordlessly enfolding her in her powerful working-woman's arms. Pam returned the embrace with equal fierceness and they both cried a little. Finally Dore was able to speak.
"You must stop frightening us so! I swear, I am going to keep you tied to a rope so you don't wander off alone again!"
"I'm sorry, Dore. I promise I'll never do something that stupid again. Believe me, I've had plenty of opportunity to regret that decision!"
"This isn't Grantville, you know! We are in a wilderness with danger at all sides! You must let Gerbald do his job and watch over you!" Dore scolded her gently, her face a mix of relief and worry.
"I will, I promise!" Pam hugged her again, then turned to the bosun, who was a bit purple under the light of the oil lamp he carried. Pam feared that his journey up the beach might give him a heart attack; although fit for a man his age, distance running was not his event.
"Are you all right, Nils?" Pam asked him, taking his free hand in hers. He nodded, trying to smile while catching his breath.
"I'm . . . all . . . right . . . it's you who matters! He handed the lantern to a nearby sailor, and took Pam's hands in both his own. They were knobby, scarred, and hard with calluses, but warm and full of love. Pam started to cry again, she hadn't realized how much she had come to care for this old sailor, a truer and bluer friend than her bosun would be hard to find. She stepped forward and gave him a hug. Like all of her Swedish crew he could still be quite reserved, unaccustomed to such displays of affection. This time though, he hugged her back as if she were his own daughter, and she felt a hot tear of joy pass from him to her cheek. Eventually Pam let him go, and took a moment to wave at and smile for all the gathered people.
Nearby a commotion had started. The Dutch had finally arrived, and young mothers were searching the crowd for their abducted children. The Swedish women quickly realized what was happening, and were shouting at each other to hurry and bring the foreign children forward. One by one, boys and young men emerged from the crowd, running to their mothers, wives and sweethearts.
"Hannus! Hannus!" the sad woman from the night before called plaintively. Her husband had been killed in the initial pirate attack and her son was all she had left to her. One of the Swedish women heard her, and also raised the call. Soon, a red-haired and red-cheeked middle-aged woman, the colonist who must have adopted Hannus during their months of slavery, brought him forward, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before sending him running to his real mother. Pam watched, smiling and crying at the same time as she leaned against Dore's sturdy frame for support. After assuring his mother that he was well, young Hannus led her over to the woman who had taken care of him and introduced her. The two women embraced with Hannus squeezed between them, then the Swede took them both by the hand and led them away to her home.
Sadly, some others were not so fortunate. A small group of the Dutch stood together weeping, their loved ones not to be found amongst the captives. Harmannus and Ljiss were with them, consoling them, and soon a group of kind-eyed Swedes surrounded them, leading them gently away to dinner and warm beds. Pam's heart nearly burst with pride at the unhesitatingly warm hearted welcome her colonists were giving these Dutch strangers she had brought into their midst. These were good people, her people. She was home.
With the crowd dispersing, assured that their leader had returned safely, Pam turned to Torbjörn, who was waiting patiently nearby.
"Do me a favor, lover. Take me to bed." She reached her hands toward him, beckoning.
"The pleasure is mine," he replied as he picked her up again.
A few drowsy minutes later Torbjörn placed her carefully on satin sheets in her exotically opulent cabin. He pulled her boots off, but left her dress on, it looked comfortable enough to sleep in. She opened her eyes and asked for a kiss, which he gave her gladly. Their lips parted and she said "Thanks." Then her eyes closed and she began to breathe in the soft rhythm of sleep. Torbjörn gently pulled a blanket over her, kissed her on the forehead and made himself comfortable on a plush-looking divan. He would guard her through the night, vowing that no one would ever hurt this amazing woman again.
Chapter Sixty-seven: Looking Glass
"You know, we still don't have a name for the colony," Pers said to Pam as they enjoyed the sunrise on the junk's high castle deck.
Torbjörn was still asleep on the divan, which Pam found supremely gentlemanly considering there was plenty of room in her bed. Gerbald had not yet emerged from his cabin. Dore was up, of course, and the delightful smell of brewing coffee came wafting up from the galley. Pam didn't know why she was up so early. By all accounts she should have slept the entire day away, but eleven-odd hours in the heavenly comfort of her own bed had been enough. She was still sore all over, and her injured head would be a bit sensitive for a few more days, but all in all she had escaped her ordeal remarkably unscathed. One thing was for sure, she felt damn lucky to be alive and the separation from her loved ones had only fortified her bonds. She was a very fortunate girl, and didn't mean to forget it!
"Hello? Pam?" Pers' young, earnest face leaned in close to hers.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Pers. Just spacing out. A name for our new town, yeah, it's time for that, isn't it? Do you have any ideas?"
"Not really. I think it should be up to you anyway, and I bet the rest would agree."
Pam moaned a little, realizing that the yoke of responsibility would be settling on her now that she was returned from her perils. There was a lot of work to do, a whole lot, and she would have to do her part in it. She bit her upper lip in thought, and looked down at the dawn-lit waters. The sea was perfectly still, not a puff of breeze or errant wave to disturb its crystalline perfection. She smiled at her reflection below, a little dark around the eyes, but looking pretty good, in the best shape of her life. She reached up to adjust some of her flyaway dishwater blond hair, the sea a virtual mirror. A mirror . . .
"Pers, I've got it! I have a name! Look down there, what do you see?"
"I see our reflections. The water is very calm today."
"Right! It's often like this around sunrise and sunset. It's just like a mirror! Do you remember the name of that Lewis Carroll book I showed you?"
"The one that inspired the princess to send us to save the dodo? It was Through the Looking Glass, wasn't it?"
Pam marveled at how clear her adopted teen's English had become, he certainly had a knack for languages.
"Exactly. What's another word for 'looking glass' in English?"
Pers's bright blue eyes looked upward for a moment as he rummaged through his mind. A moment later he smiled, and said "A mirror!"
"Exactly. Let's call this place Port Looking Glass, in honor of Lewis Carroll. Kristina will love that!"
Pers' eyes widened as all the sailor's did when they were reminded their captain was on a first name basis with their princess.
"That sure sounds nice, and fitting, too." Pers nodded his approval. A hearty voice emanated from below-decks, the call for coffee, and both of them hurried down the steep ladders to the galley as fast as they dared.
****
To be continued