The Ophir (15 page)

“What guarantee is there?”

“None. I can’t guarantee today, let be
tomorrow. Can you? Can anyone, save our Lord and Savior?

What I can tell you is that we’re bein’
watched by those with greater power. They control the deep. The
creatures told of in story are real, but answer to them. I got this
from Captain Antonio himself, and he himself will be with the
Lumurians of ancient times, times before man himself existed.”

Another man stepped forward. “Captain ...
what of you?”

“I stay with the ship ‘til each is
sequestered safely in the deep. I’ve chosen to go down with my
ship. Once all’ve been lowered and tethered, The Wasp will be set
afire at sunrise. My hand will strike the match. This is my choice.
I have no questions left. My wanderlust is quenched. My curiosity
satisfied. This was my time; I lived it fully.” The men drew their
swords. With the blade pointed skyward, they touched the
cross-guard first to their left shoulder, then to their foreheads,
and finally thrust high in salute. The Captain nodded in
acknowledgement. The men replaced their swords smartly into their
scabbards.

“Are there anymore items to bring forward?”
No more stood forward. The pact was made.

A lone voice spoke from a distance. It moved
on the wind, strong, clear.

“You have chosen your fate; so it shall be.
Take heart. The day will come when man will have progressed beyond
any imagination we’ve shared. On that day a man, worthy and true,
will step forward and bring change into the world that even the
most advanced among men will shake his head. He will be known as
the Captain of a hoped for future, and a harbinger of death to many
traditions and beliefs. It will, in the end, be his undoing. The
world will move in a surprising and totally new direction from
which there will be no return. When the turmoil has calmed, we will
rise again. It is then that we will join man and take our rightful
place.

I salute you, Captain O’Keefe. Your
courage and decision will be rewarded and remembered until that day
comes and long after. May Davie Jones give you peace until that
time.”
Captain Antonio stood proud of his crew. Using his power
of remote viewing, he watched as the cages were lowered into the
deep waters of the Mariana Trench. Long-bodied creatures floated
nearby. Their intelligent eyes watched the first cage touch the
surface of the water.

The largest of the cylindrical creatures
released spurts of water from an orifice propelling it forward to
wait by the crate. It excreted ink thickened with mucus as it moved
its body over the gentle swells. Its startling array of colors
danced to an ancient rhythm around its body. Its eyes, calm and
soft, observed the strange creatures moving about the ship.

“Who will be the first lad to test my
promise?”

“I, Cap’n’.” He was the smallest of stature.
Although he had a young man’s face, he was the oldest in the
crew.

“Good man, James.” James climbed the rail and
stepped into the crate. The men watched as it was lowered and
disappeared beneath the surface.

The structured crates’ gibbets were formed
from woven steel strips forged of the finest tinsel possible by the
smiths of Spain. The strips created a closed rectangular basket to
protect the sleeping lamia. The creature wrapped eight arms around
the crate and dove. Its club tipped tentacles trailed behind.

Ocean predators would not be able to
penetrate the cages, nor would they be able to crush them in
powerful jaws, although some monsters of the deep could swallow
them whole, it was told.

The steel strips were set far enough apart to
allow for circulation of the currents. Free circulation would
prevent the heavy cages from being easily torn from the ‘O’ rings
tethered to solid rock. The rings, part of a port that sank many
centuries before, were constructed of a material unknown to man.
Each cage was placed in crevices hidden to predator’s eyes and
protected by the luminescent creatures of the sea.

And there, in the dark waters of the deepest
part of the ocean, the vampires would sleep until such time as the
world was ready for their re-emergence.

Captain O’Keefe watched as the cages were
placed in a queue for the men to board. The creatures came forward
and took each cage in turn. When all 37 cages had been taken, the
sun was just rising over the horizon.

The Captain of The Wasp saluted his men. A
blood tear escaped and ran down his petrified cheek. The match was
lit. The Wasp and its Captain disappeared, never seen nor heard
from again.

* * * *

The giant squids’ bodies continued to glow in
the freezing waters of the trench. A shark at least 60 feet in
length, with a head and jaw almost as big as The Wasp itself, swam
at a distance from the cages and their escorts. Its huge eyes
rolled back into its head as its lips pulled back to bare its
teeth. It charged the floating meal. A bell tolled in the deep as
the jaw with seven rows of teeth as big as a man’s head opened,
ready to tear its prey apart.

The resonance of the bell was thunderous, its
peel of such strength that the reverberation aimed at the shark’s
midriff hit like a sledgehammer. Its body bent in half from the
blow. Blood poured from its eyes, gills and mouth. The shark’s
entrails followed its body down like a kite tail as it spiraled
onto the ledge of the trench. The waves traveled undersea and
registered on a volcanic island situated in the Sunda Strait
between the islands of Java and Sumatra in Indonesia. A chain
reaction began to build that would take almost three quarters of a
century to surface. When it did, it would have cataclysmic effects
on the population. The year was 1812.

Chapter
Fifteen

Lemuria, an island of many myths, existed for
the percipient mind. It was known by the gentle Polynesians as the
motherland of mankind. Generations would know it by this name and
others. Its location moved with the telling of its existence.

It could, according to the teller, be in the
Indian Ocean off the coast of Africa or even the eastern coast of
North America. The Sargasso Sea held mysteries, too. Regardless of
where the conscious mind placed it, the Ophir would find it.

“The time has come. We must decide now where
our final paths will take us.” The Captain stood on deck with his
men, not above them as he would under other circumstances. He
wanted them to know he was just one more sailor in the crew at this
juncture.

“Is there one among you who will speak for
all? If so, let him step forward.”

With that edict, Obana, a quiet and peaceful
ex-patriot from Kauai in the Hawaiian Islands, took one step toward
the Captain. Obana had been taken aboard the Ophir centuries before
when he jumped ship near Kenya in Africa. Aboard the treasure ship
captained by the fierce pirate Zheng He, relative to the Xunade
Emperor of China, he was brutalized. Rather than die at the hands
of the eunuch captain, he took his chances with the sharks.

Captain Antonio discovered him hiding in the
bowels of a trader vessel heading back to the mid-Pacific. He
fought bravely but finally was taken by Contona, who took him under
his protection and tutelage. The year was 1492.

“Aye, Captain. I will speak.” Obana stood
near six feet in height, with broad back and shoulders. His voice
ricocheted in the timbers and echoed in the air. He looked down at
the Captain and bowed in respect.

“Those that will go forward with you are
aboard the Ophir. All others have chosen to transfer to one of the
other eight ships or are sleeping in the deep.

Purser has kept a good accounting of the
booty taken, and it has been divided fair. The fate of the others
is not our concern, nor should it be yours. We are ready and will
set sail with you. We made our choice and are satisfied.” He spoke
mind to mind.

Captain Antonio, having already lost many of
his vampiric ‘gifts’, showed no emotion. His crew was unaware that
he could no longer hear their thoughts. He nodded and said, “So be
it.” Taking his cue from Contona, he saluted the men.

“I have one last request to make before I
hand all power to Captain Contona. We agreed that I would lead one
last time as we sail toward unknown waters. I gave my word to
Ahkmed that we would help him find his last resting place. Is there
any among you to object? No? Good.

Gentlemen, we sail for the Ring of Fire. To
the south of the ring there are many islands. One island lies close
to our destination. It is there that we will lay Ahkmed to rest.
Captain Contona, the helm is now yours.” Captain Antonio
acknowledged Contona with a slight nod and took a step back.

“As you were, men. Obana, you are now my
first mate. Give orders to come about. We head for Lemuria and the
Ring of Fire.” The orders were given and the men busied themselves
with the ship’s duties. It was back to business as usual--for
now.

The Ophir set sail with a crew of 35. A
course was laid for due south. The crew would see the shores of
Africa and South America. It headed down around the Falkland
Islands and rounded Cape Horn. They sailed in a northerly direction
from Africa toward the Ring of Fire. Led by dolphins riding the
waves as the Ophir cut through the water, the ship reached its
destination and dropped anchor at Latitude 22.0833˚N and
159.5000˚W. Obana, the Ophir’s new first mate, knew this place and
his heart swelled with pride.

* * * *

“Beautiful land.”

“Yes. It is my home.” Obana had not seen his
homeland in several centuries. He wondered what changes had taken
place. Na Pali was a natural fortress and the perfect site for
Ahkmed’s spirit to reside.

“Are you sure your people will accept our
proposal?”

“Aye, Captain. They are, or perhaps I should
say once ‘were’, a simple people that believed we should honor
ancestors. Our ancestors taught us to respect the land. It feeds,
clothes and shelters us. It is through the experience of our
ancestors that we learned many important things. If things have not
changed, they will honor your request.”

“Will you stay with him when we leave?”

“It would be my honor to do this.” Obana
stood tall and pointed to the shoreline. Double hulled outrigger
sailing canoes filled with gift baskets of sweet potatoes and
breadfruit, propelled by ten Na Pali natives, cut through the waves
and headed for the ship.

“Here they come, Captain. They’re here to
welcome you.”

Observation of the rugged coastline was
possible with the use the Quartermaster’s glass. The telescope made
the images crisp and clear. The coastal region sheltered a reef
that supplied a stock of fish used for trade. With many rivers and
waterfalls available, the inhabitants raised their own vegetables
seen along the shoreline and in hanging valleys further inland.
Trade was done via canoe and various foot trails that rose to 4,000
feet in some areas.

“But, Obana, how will you survive?”

“There are many ways to live without
sacrifice. I will live in the remote areas of this coast. I know of
caves that are beneath the surface. The walls of the Na Pali cliffs
drop straight down. The storms break against those walls with such
strength that not even the bravest among my people would venture.
Fear of the “barking” sands would keep them away, too. They believe
the beaches and cliffs are alive with evil spirits.”

“Are they?”

“I don’t know. I thought so too, but since I
was taken aboard, I have seen many wondrous things I didn’t
understand. I learned long ago that if you respect the people, the
land and ancestors of the land, it will respect you too. I will
learn and adapt as needed.”

“What of Ahkmed?”

“I have created a Bei much like those used by
mothers in China. Father Ahkmed is no more in size than a large
child. There is little weight. He will ride on my back. The Bei
leaves my arms free to use for climbing, swimming and work. He will
be safe.”

“What is the vantage point? Captain Antonio
and I would like for him to witness the events that will take place
north of the islands. He will need his journal, writing tools and
eye glass.”

“When I was just a boy, I wanted to hear the
barking sounds and see the evil spirits. I explored this area many
times and found wombs and many sheltered ledges near the surface
that were carved by mother earth when she gave birth to new land.
She no longer bleeds, but her birthing place left shelter from
storms. It is there that I will create a safe haven for Father
Ahkmed. He will not be disturbed and I will stay in the ocean
beneath his lair. I will ascend only to eat and keep a watchful eye
on the Father.”

“Are you sure we will be welcomed?”

“You have already been invited. The canoes
are decorated for celebration. They carry gifts and are singing
their welcoming song. This is the time of Makahiki when we
celebrate our ancestry. The time is right.”

* * * *

The natives were welcomed aboard. They
brought their baskets of food and fish aboard to celebrate and
leave an open invitation to the men of the Ophir. The celebration
went on into the early hours. When it was time to end the
festivities, a special pontoon that had arrived during the night
waited for Ahkmed and Obana to board.

“Ahkmed, we bid you farewell. Obana will stay
to carry you to your new accommodations and see to your safety. It
will be high enough for you to see all events clearly. The
islanders believe you to be Obana’s ancestor; they will pay you the
respect and homage long due you. May the peace you’ve longed for be
yours.”

Ahkmed, cradled in the Bei at Obana’s back,
sat high in the pontoon in a place of honor. He held to his small
chest the things most precious to him: a quill, parchment and ink.
At last he would rest. His desire to be forgiven his sins no longer
existed. He accepted, nay, longed for this day. His time was at an
end. All that was left was the recording of the rise of Lemuria and
the final confrontation between Kadar Nazim and The One.