The Nautilus Sanction (TimeWars 5) - Page 12

Lucas shook his head. “No, that’s impossible.”

“Is it?” Finn said. “You watch.”

“He’s puzzled, true,” said Lucas, “but there’s just no way he’ll ever guess we’re from a future time. It would be too mind-boggling a concept for him.”

“Only you’re forgetting one thing,” said Finn. “This is the man who invented science fiction.”

Lucas bit his lower lip.

“What are we going to do?” said Andre.

None of them had an answer.

4

An entire week passed with no sight of Jules Verne. He remained closeted in his cabin, pleading seasickness. His meals were brought in to him, but he ate extremely sparingly, if at all. The ship’s doctor was sent in to see him and he announced the author did, indeed, appear to be suffering from nothing more serious than seasickness, claiming dizziness, nausea and an upset stomach. It would pass, the doctor said, there was no cause for concern. The three commandos, however, were very much concerned.

Time passed slowly aboard the ship as it steamed across the Atlantic, and they were not troubled by storms. Finn, Lucas and Andre had plenty of time and opportunity to examine the ship, observe the routine of its crew and pick put several likely places from which they might be able to launch their grenades unobserved if the submarine were sighted.

The three scientists proved to be no problem. Vandenburg was surly and morose by disposition, preferring to keep to himself and socialize to some limited extent only during mealtimes. The remainder of the time he spent reading, having brought several suitcases full of books along with him on the voyage. Samuelson and Devries were both considerably

more gregarious, with Devries always wanting to discuss some scientific topic or another, which discussions were facilitated by the implant programming the commandos went through in preparation for their mission. Still, Devries’s expertise was so eclectic, they had to plead ignorance on several occasions when his discourse became far too esoteric for them. On such occasions, Devries was more than happy to quickly change the subject away from science to such fields as literature, theater, history and philosophy. He was one of those people who seemed to be able to talk about almost anything with authority and he dearly loved to talk, which did not endear him to Ned Land, who quickly grew bored listening to him go on and on. Samuelson turned out to be a chess fanatic, which gave him common ground with Lucas. They spent long hours playing, and discussing the finer points of the game.

Finn and Ned Land got along famously. One of Land’s favorite pastimes was arm wrestling and, given his prodigious strength, he rarely lost. His harpooner’s reflexes also gave him an edge in that regard, but in Finn Delaney, he met his match. The first time he challenged him, after having already bested the entire crew, it had been with a good deal of levity.

“Come on, then, Doctor, you’re a stout fellow, let’s see what you’re made of.”

Finn had accepted readily enough and a small group gathered round to see the “professor” get his comeuppance. The two men propped their elbows up on a keg, braced themselves and, at a signal from one of the onlookers, went to. Land’s eyes widened in surprise immediately when he felt a strength opposing his that was equal to his own.

“Eh! Professor! That’s some arm you’ve got there!”

Both men strained, hands locked, neither able to gain an advantage over the other. The crowd of onlookers grew and soon sailors were shouting encouragement and placing bets. It went on for almost four minutes, both men red-faced and sweaty, breathless from their exertions, until finally Land slowly started to give, fighting every last inch of the way. When Finn put him down at last, there was a mighty cheer and Land cheered loudest of all. He leaped up and clasped Finn in a bear hug, kissing both his cheeks and lifting him into the air. From that moment on, Land treated him like a brother.

Lucas kept monitoring the sea with his instruments every chance he got, closing them up immediately whenever anyone came near, acting suspicious and indignant whenever anyone questioned him about what he was doing. Since he only seemed to act so unreasonably when so occupied and was otherwise quite sociable, they soon left him alone at his task, writing it off to his scientific jealousy and insecurity.

For the first few days at sea, Andre was left pretty much to her own devices. Samuelson seemed somewhat misogynistic, Devries did not seem to feel women had much to contribute to intellectual discussion-in this, being typical of the men of his day-and Vandenburg was downright misanthropic. That left only Verne, who had removed himself from their company, and the officers and crew of the Abraham Lincoln who, like Ned Land, treated her with polite circumspection until one day one of the bolder sailors pinched her backside. Andre turned around and flattened him, to the amazement of his fellow crew members and Ned Land, who had witnessed the act. Thereafter, the crew of the Abraham Lincoln gave her a wide berth, but Land began to follow her around like a lovesick schoolboy, pathetically and endearingly trying to court her, as if he had never had anything to do with women before and didn’t quite know how to go about it.

For her part, Andre found him to be quite attractive with his flaxen blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, wide smile and cleft chin, but his manner mystified her.

“What the hell’s the matter with him?” she asked Finn one night. “God knows, I’ve dropped enough hints. If I was any more direct, I’d scare him off and ruin my chances. You men are so damned stupid, it’s a wonder women ever manage to get laid!”

“Hey, I resent that!” Finn protested, laughing.

“Oh, you know what I mean. How the hell am I supposed to deal with a 19th-century male?”

“You should talk,” said Finn. “You’re a 12th-century female.”

“With 27th-century sensibilities,” she said. “Still, even in the 12th century, we were more direct than this! I like him. He’s handsome, he’s charming, he’s fun, he’s rough-edged and he has a terrific body. But he’s so goddamn dense! What am I supposed to do, fall overboard?”

Finn began to laugh again, then saw the expression that sud denly appeared upon her face.

“Oh, now wait a minute!”

“It’s perfect! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“You can’t be serious! That water’s cold. By the time the ship could turn around-”

“It doesn’t have to turn around! Not if we time it just right.”

Tags: Simon Hawke TimeWars Science Fiction
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