Rover of the Sands
“Men!” shouts Captain McCann. “Ma’am,” he says more quietly as an aside to Viola, whose long loose caftan flaps in the arid wind. You notice the faintest gleam of light in the area of her down-turned hood and are charmed for a moment by the vision of her as a little girl squeezing her eyes shut in a game of hide-and-seek. This thought proves quickly sobering and the last of the afterglow fades as you realize the danger you’re in.
A long moment passes as McCann, torch in hand, inspects every one of you, looking you up and down as if to rout out stray lint from your lapels. Viola seems very engrossed in petting Old Dog, her face concealed in her ample hood. You start breathing again once McCann has passed her by, having fed Old Dog a bone and seemingly forgotten about her. Finally he speaks:
“I am reluctant to announce that I have good reason to believe our vessel is under threat from Apparitions of unknown origin. There is much yet to be learned in these wearing New Times and we must depend upon each other for mutual counsel and support. The simple truth, men—ma’am, is that we are not alone in the Moon Sands.”
Murmurs break out amongst the crew.
“I do not yet know whether only the Apparition is here amongst us or if its body double has somehow cleverly hidden, perhaps in the hold somewhere behind the supplies. Tomorrow at oh-six-hundred hours, we will organize a complete sweep of this ship. We will not let ourselves be frightened or intimidated!”
Again, an agitated buzzing from your fellows. Oh God, they’ll find out! And then what will you do? You look to Viola, but she resolutely avoids your eyes. You notice, however, that the halo her image produces in the air is growing brighter and harder not to notice.
“Sir,” says Barnes, “How can we be sure there’s really something here? Are we not maybe all just a wee bit sea-mad by now? Who made the reports?”
“I would like to know which of you cowards can’t stand up to a little ghost!,” shouts Bill Tracy to resounding cheers from the crowd. Why are they so nervous?
“The information is confidential, but it has been corroborated and the men involved are nothing if not trustworthy,” answers McCann. “I will not go into further detail, except to say that you must all be on your guard. I am restricting the movement of the crew to strictly essential operations. You should avoid the dark, especially when alone. We will scour fore and aft until we find her.”
“Her, Sir?” asks Tracy. The Captain’s neck momentarily flushes as he realizes his blunder, but he recovers quickly.
“Quite possibly, Bill. This Apparition might be a woman based on the matching descriptions given; but always remember just how quickly these things tend to flash and then disappear, so we really can’t know for sure. That is all for tonight, men—ma’am. Sleep well, all.”
A long moment passes as McCann, torch in hand, inspects every one of you, looking you up and down as if to rout out stray lint from your lapels. Viola seems very engrossed in petting Old Dog, her face concealed in her ample hood. You start breathing again once McCann has passed her by, having fed Old Dog a bone and seemingly forgotten about her. Finally he speaks:
“I am reluctant to announce that I have good reason to believe our vessel is under threat from Apparitions of unknown origin. There is much yet to be learned in these wearing New Times and we must depend upon each other for mutual counsel and support. The simple truth, men—ma’am, is that we are not alone in the Moon Sands.”
Murmurs break out amongst the crew.
“I do not yet know whether only the Apparition is here amongst us or if its body double has somehow cleverly hidden, perhaps in the hold somewhere behind the supplies. Tomorrow at oh-six-hundred hours, we will organize a complete sweep of this ship. We will not let ourselves be frightened or intimidated!”
Again, an agitated buzzing from your fellows. Oh God, they’ll find out! And then what will you do? You look to Viola, but she resolutely avoids your eyes. You notice, however, that the halo her image produces in the air is growing brighter and harder not to notice.
“Sir,” says Barnes, “How can we be sure there’s really something here? Are we not maybe all just a wee bit sea-mad by now? Who made the reports?”
“I would like to know which of you cowards can’t stand up to a little ghost!,” shouts Bill Tracy to resounding cheers from the crowd. Why are they so nervous?
“The information is confidential, but it has been corroborated and the men involved are nothing if not trustworthy,” answers McCann. “I will not go into further detail, except to say that you must all be on your guard. I am restricting the movement of the crew to strictly essential operations. You should avoid the dark, especially when alone. We will scour fore and aft until we find her.”
“Her, Sir?” asks Tracy. The Captain’s neck momentarily flushes as he realizes his blunder, but he recovers quickly.
“Quite possibly, Bill. This Apparition might be a woman based on the matching descriptions given; but always remember just how quickly these things tend to flash and then disappear, so we really can’t know for sure. That is all for tonight, men—ma’am. Sleep well, all.”