The Bootstrap Paradox: Part 2

[mokuyoubi]

Nassau was a rush of sights and sounds and smells. Frank kept close by Ryan with his hand on his gun. Jon kept a hand on Spencer’s elbow, subtly guiding him. His grip was just tight enough to warn Spencer against trying to break free. Brendon led the way.

“Where is this bar, the Mermaid, you said?” Brendon asked. “I don’t recall and bar by that name. You would think I would,” he added, to Jon, who smiled.

“The captain has more than a passing interest in mermaids,” Jon explained to Spencer and Ryan, like they were his friends. His face was soft.

“At least I’m not as bad as Pete,” Brendon protested. “Or Mikey and his unicorns,” Brendon protested.

“Why are you talking about this in front of them?” Frank burst out. “They’ve done something with Gee. Do you think Mikey would appreciate you talking about this to them?”

Spencer gave Ryan what he hoped was a meaningful look and Ryan nodded his head decisively. They hadn’t had a chance to speak without being overheard since Jon had crossed the Captain’s quarters and jerked them apart from one another. Spencer’s current plan involved getting deep into the heart of the city then accidentally ‘losing’ their captors.

It wasn’t that Spencer actually believed this was Nassau. There were whole cities in America that recreated different eras. It wasn’t so difficult to believe that there might be a port somewhere in the Bahamas that recreated a town from the height of piracy. He’d prefer to think that way that to consider the alternative. So, Spencer wasn’t so convinced that they were in very much danger, but he’d rather be away from the insane cosplayers than with them, so. Either way, escape plan.

Ryan started putting on a bit of a show, talking loudly about the last time they’d been the Mermaid and looking this way and that as if he couldn’t remember where exactly it had been. “We were drunk at the time, you know,” Ryan explained. Spencer caught his eye and jerked his head subtly in the direction of a narrow, crowded street.

“I think that looks familiar, though,” Ryan said, pointing to a shop halfway down the same road.

Jon was watching them both with narrowed eyes, so Spencer cleared his throat and put on his best bitchy, know-it-all face and nodded. “Yes, I think it’s just down that way, around the corner.”

Brendon seemed content enough with that answer. He turned down the lane and there was an immediate crush of bodies on all sides. Ryan let himself be slowed by people elbowing by, until he was walking alongside Spencer.

Spencer let his hand catch Ryan’s and Ryan twined their fingers together, squeezing like a lifeline. Spencer gave a tight squeeze back. He knew when he went Ryan would follow.

“I really am sorry about all of this,” Brendon said, and looked over his shoulder at them. He sounded earnest and he looked so sweet and young. If Ryan didn’t have a scarf around his neck to act as bandage for the wound Frank had given him, Spencer might have been less inclined to run. Brendon gave Ryan a strange little smile and then faced forward again.

Jon’s arm stroked the inside of Spencer’s elbow, sending little sparking shivers through Spencer’s blood. Spencer looked down at him in surprise and Jon was smiling at the ground.

“You’re protective of your friend,” Jon said. “Frank just cares a lot about Gerard. I mean, we all do. But they have a special friendship, you know, and I’m sure once we find Gerard, Frank will apologise. He won’t actually hurt you.”

Spencer hummed blandly. He was watching all around them, waiting. Their moment came just as they were passing a mother with five children. The youngest was in her arms and the next youngest was dashing through the crowd, tripping people up. He got between Frank’s legs and the mother, chasing after him, pushed Jon aside with enough force to break his hold on Spencer’s arm. Spencer tugged and Ryan went.

Ryan led them through the crowd. He was all skinny, bony limbs and he wasn’t afraid to use that advantage to elbow people out of his way. They kept their heads low.

Jon gave a shout of surprise and they heard Brendon yell something, and Spencer knew they were being followed close behind. Spencer somehow felt Frank wouldn’t have any qualms about punching people to get them out of his way, but Ryan was quick.

They broke out onto the main stretch and Spencer chanced a look behind him. Jon was still struggling with the mother in the distance, but Frank was determinedly pushing his way out, glare fixed on Spencer. Brendon wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Spencer pushed at Ryan’s shoulder and Ryan ran, fast.

At the next intersection Ryan went the opposite way, and quickly began leading them through a maze of alleys and outdoor markets. Spencer didn’t really have time to take anything in. It was just a mess of colours and noises and really horrible smells—fish, of course, and urine, and too sweet, too strong perfume trying to cover body odour. There were chickens and goats and llamas, and people shouting prices at each other. Men in American army uniforms were everywhere, but they were mostly blurs of white and blue in Spencer’s eyes.

Spencer didn’t know if the others were still after them. Maybe they’d gone the wrong way from the start, or maybe they were only a few twists and turns away. Ryan had got them pretty lost, but it was possible that Frank might stumble upon them by making his own series of random choices. Spencer wasn’t so worried about Brendon and Jon, but Frank had sort of crazy eyes. If Frank didn’t have a gun, Spencer could take him, but the guy didn’t seem to mind inflicting bodily damage.

“We need to find a phone to borrow, or something,” Spencer said.

Ryan jerked him into a shadowed door way suddenly and turned to face him. Ryan’s face was red and sweaty, but he looked as bland as ever. “There aren’t any phones, Spencer.”

“Well, not just hanging around, obviously. But they have to have some office where they orchestrate all this stuff,” Spencer reasoned. “You know, where they get the info about the tours, or order stuff, or…”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Ryan said. “Spencer, we’re not at the fucking ren fair. We’re in, like, 1776.”

Spencer was stubborn as fuck, and he was also not an insane person. He dragged them into the bar across the street. It was mostly empty, with a man at the bar, one in the back with a prostitute pressed against his side, and another passed out at a booth. The place smelled so strongly of beer, Spencer thought it might be possible to get drunk off the fumes.

“I’m sorry to disturb the…er…atmosphere, or whatever,” Spencer said to the bartender, “but he we need to use a phone.”

The bartender looked at him like he was speaking another language. “The telephone,” Spencer said slowly. “A cell phone. Anything, really. We just need to call some friends in Nassau.”

“I got drinks,” the man said. “And I got fish. You want that, fine. I don’t got no fancy telafans. We don’t sell no fans.” Spencer stared blankly at him until Ryan grabbed his arm and started pulling towards the door.

“Thanks,” Ryan said, grin tight and forced. “Spencer, we’re getting the fuck out of here,” he said, when they were back on the street. He looked cautiously this way and that, but there was no sign of their pursuers.

Ryan led them steadily towards the shore, farther east than where they’d come in. When the thick crowds started to clear up near the beach, they could see the Behind the Sea several hundred yards down the way. There were several docks between and ships large and small, from commercial vessels, to government vessels, and tiny fishing boats.

“And what, precisely, is the plan now?” Spencer asked. They stood behind a small storage shack near a line of canoes. Spencer knew they stuck out like sore thumbs—Ryan dressed like something out of Arabian nights, and Spencer had on girl jeans and a pink and rhinestone tee. Even when everyone else wasn’t in period garb, Spencer and Ryan stood out.

“We get on a ship. One leaving, like soon,” Ryan said. Spencer was poised to argue, but Ryan hurried on. “Whatever, look, if you’re right, then a ship leaving here will probably be going back to Nassau, or another port. It gets us away from this place and the guys with weapons.”

Spencer had to admit it was fairly good reasoning. For several long minutes they stood in their hiding space, watching the nearest ships. Spencer didn’t really know how one went about getting on board. They didn’t really have any cash on them. Spencer had his iPod in his pocket, but everything else valuable they owned was in their bags, in the Behind the Sea. Spencer was going to sue someone so hardcore when they got home.

Men and women bustled up and down the shore, purposefully going about their business. Spencer hoped that watching them would give him some idea of what to do. His attention was stolen, though, by a loud procession of several men coming down the boardwalk.

The man in the lead was tall and dark golden brown. He was strikingly good-looking at a distance and he totally rocked the casual period costume he wore. He even looked okay in the long, soft brown leather coat he had on. If he was handsome, the man alongside him was beautiful, with long curling hair tumbling around his shoulders and a fancy coat and britches outfit in powder blue. He was almost as tall as his companion, and the two of them were taking long strides, talking to one another and those behind them and gesturing wildly with their hands.

“Does that guy sorta look like the guy from the rental place to you?” Spencer asked.

Ryan made an exasperated sound. “The guy from the rental place isn’t in the 18th century,” he snapped. Then he actually looked, and frowned. “Well. And that guy has better hair. And isn’t so obviously high.”

That was all true, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t just Bill in a wig, or something. And it had been long enough since they’d left that maybe he wasn’t high anymore. Spencer was willing to take the chance. “Bill!” he called, stepping out of the shadows and walking towards the men.

Bill stopped and blinked at Spencer and then Ryan, who was trailing behind him. “There are tiny, bright people addressing me familiarly,” Bill said to the darker man. “Do I know them?”

The taller man tipped his head to the side and squinted at them. “I like the little one’s dress,” he said.

Bill nodded, as if that settled everything. “What can I do for you?” he asked. His voice was still slow and drawling, but it had a definite British accent that Spencer hadn’t noticed that morning.

Ryan made a sharp noise and opened his mouth as if to tell them off, whether about his size or his scarf outfit. Spencer jabbed him with an elbow and spoke first. “Um. You do remember us, right? You met us this morning, with Greta, and Gee.”

“Were Greta and Gee here this morning?” one of the other men behind them asked, in an Australian accent.

“How drunk were we?” Bill muttered under his breath.

“Fucking toasted, was more like it,” Ryan said. Bill gave him a look like he didn’t comprehend.

“Sorry,” Bill said, and waved his hand. “Anyway…”

“Please understand that when William has overindulged in drink, he tends to make some rather…strange claims,” another man said. He looked like he might be part Asian and had a bland, slightly frustrated expression. “He can’t be held accountable for anything he might have said, including any aspersions he may have cast on your parentage, attempts made to seduce your wife or daughter, or any challenges made, pertaining to a duel—”

“No, look,” Spencer interrupted. “We’re just looking for a ride out of here.”

“Oh.” Bill shrugged. “Well, Gabriel?”

“I like the little one’s dress,” the tall man repeated. He sort of leered when he said it. Spencer not so subtly put himself between Ryan and Gabriel. Gabriel chuckled. “Oh. He’s adorable. You can keep them, I suppose,” he said to Bill. “But you have to remember to feed them and water them, and play with them. I can help.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“We don’t really have any way to pay you right now,” Spencer said. “We lost our ship outside of Nassau. It had all our possessions.”

“Are you looking for work?” the Asian man asked.

“Well, we had originally just planned on getting back to Nassau,” Ryan said. There was something cautious in his tone. Bill and Gabriel just stared at them, waiting. “But our friends who were supposed to meet us here are gone.”

Spencer stared daggers, trying to figure what Ryan was up to. “No one stays long in Nassau these days,” Bill commented. “We’re heading to Port-de-Paix. You can work your way.”

“Captain,” one of the men urged. “We really should be leaving soon.”

“Yes,” Bill said. “Sisky can get so dramatic when we’re a few minutes late.”

“To be fair,” the Australian one said, “that last time was more like two weeks late.”

Bill pretended not to hear him. “Alright, tiny people…er, what are your names?”

“Spencer, and this is Ryan.” Ryan smiled tightly. He got defensive about the tiny thing.

“Spencer and Ryan,” Gabriel repeated. “Come aboard our fine vessel. I am Captain Gabriel Saporta. This is Tony, Michael, Mike, and Alexander.” Each of the men nodded their greeting. Spencer had thought that one of the men, Tony, had referred to Bill as the captain, but Spencer could have been confused, so he didn’t say anything.

The ship was grand, far bigger than the Behind the Sea. The name painted on the side read Black Mamba. There were several winding snakes painted alongside it, and rather than a mermaid or skeleton, or whatever on the front, there was a giant cobra with its mouth open, fangs bared. “Fabulous, right?” Gabriel asked, tossing his arm over Spencer’s shoulder, and leading him up the ramp to the ship.

There were several other sailors aboard. Gabriel took Spencer on a tour. Behind them, Spencer could hear William giving Ryan pretty much the same information. They met Ryland, who was hanging from the crow’s nest and who gave them an enthusiastic wave and grin.

Nathaniel was making last minute preparations for the ship to depart. He was smaller than Spencer, which made Spencer feel better about the tiny comments. Joe was messing around with a fishing net on the upper deck, but he had an easy, ready grin. Andy, who was the cook and the quartermaster, showed them where they’d be sleeping. Then they were led back up to the captain’s quarters. Ryland called down to them on the way, saying that they were ready to embark, and Bill gave the order to go ahead.

Gabriel pushed open the doors of the cabin. The room was hazy with smoke, and it wasn’t a familiar scent to Spencer, but he could guess that it wasn’t anything innocent. There was a woman seated at the desk, long legs propped up, encased in leather boots. “Boys,” she greeted lethargically. She either didn’t notice the newcomers, or didn’t care.

“Did you bring us boy prostitutes,” a familiar voice asked from the shadowy recesses of the room. Spencer squinted and saw, reclining on a huge, curtained bed, Travis.

“Travis, thank god,” Ryan said.

Travis sat up and blinked at them several times. Spencer sort of loved his big, droopy puppy dog eyes. “Do I know them?” Travis asked.

“Apparently we were really drunk,” Bill explained.

Ryan made a noise of protest. “No, are you fucking me? The other night, at the club, with Pete!”

“Pete was here, too?” Bill said wonderingly.

“That ass,” Gabriel muttered. “He owes me two barrels of mead. And three grams of opium.”

Ryan had that look in his eye again, like he was falling it love. Opium probably appealed to his sense of the dramatic. Ryan had a thing for tragic romances and tall, thin heroes wasting away in opium dens. He’d been reading too much Victorian era fiction, really.

“Maybe we were wrong about the day,” Ryan said slowly. “You know, it all sort of blurs together.”

Travis nodded his agreement. “Sorry little man.” Then he squinted again. “But seriously, was I paying you for sex when we met? Was Pete?”

Bill smacked Travis hard on the back of the head and Gabriel leered at Spencer again. “We’re not prostitutes,” Ryan said sharply. “And I already told you, we’re not gay.”

“Gay?” Bill echoed delicately, looking around him as if expecting one of his friends to help him out. Victoria shrugged and tipped further back in her chair, ‘til her hair brushed the floor. Gabriel had wandered over to her and was messing around with something on the desk that Spencer couldn’t quite see.

“You mean to say…” Bill went on, and his eyes widened. “You mean to say that you’re not…you’ve never…” Travis snickered and Bill dissolved into laughter.

“It’s alright,” Victoria said, when Spencer was starting to get annoyed enough to snap. “I wouldn’t be gay around any of these heathens, either.”

Gabriel tickled her side and she squirmed away, scowling at him and batting his hands. “That’s not what I’ve heard from Alexander. Or Ryland. Or Nathaniel,” he said. Then he turned his attention back to Spencer and Ryan. “But it is alright that you’re not.”

“Yes. It’s almost sweet to have someone aboard who isn’t,” Bill agreed, still giggling a little.

“I’ll think of it as a challenge,” Gabriel said. He held up a slender pipe and struck a match. “In the meantime, I think there are plenty of other ways we can entertain you.”



“I think,” Ryan said, much later. They were at the bow of the ship, feet dangling over the side. They didn’t even come close to reaching water, but the night was warm and the air was cool, and it felt nice.

Spencer felt nice. The day had been confusing and he still didn’t understand what was going on. But Gabriel had shared his opium and then spending the afternoon in the sun had somehow amplified the effect. Andy had made an amazing meal. Alexander warned that it wouldn’t be like that every night, but they’d just left port and had lots of fresh supplies.

After dinner the crew had gathered on the upper deck and opened a barrel of mead. Ryland played the lute while the crew took turns telling Spencer and Ryan tales from their time on the seas. Spencer wasn’t sure how much of it he could believe, mostly because he still wasn’t sure he believed any of this was really happening.

Then Gabriel, Travis and William disappeared into the captain’s quarters giggling amongst themselves. Spencer was more than a little curious about that. Victoria laid her head on Ryland’s knee and hummed along as he played. Her fingers moved on her lap restlessly, like she wanted an instrument under them to play along. Nathaniel kept time tapping his toes and hands on the deck and railing, back braced against Alexander’s shoulder. Joe sung sort of nonsense words to Ryland’s tune.

Tony and Andy were at the helm, talking softly enough that Spencer couldn’t hear them. But they, like the others, had a sort of easy, casual calm about them. Spencer thought, if he had to be on a ship in the middle of the 18th century, this one was probably the best he was going to find.

“I think,” Ryan whispered, “that I must have hit my head pretty hard in that storm, and I’m having some sort of fever dream.” He was staring at some distant point in the dark. The deck swayed gently beneath them. “And I’m filling in the characters, you know, like “The Wizard of Oz,” with people I knew before.”

That actually made a fair amount of sense. Except, “I’m not part of your fever dream,” Spencer said.

“Well, obviously you’d say that,” Ryan said. “But I’m afraid you have no actual awareness, or will of your own.”

Spencer punched him in the shoulder, hard. “How’s that for will of my own.”

Ryan rubbed his shoulder absently. “Maybe we’re having shared fever dreams,” he mused. Spencer thought maybe Ryan was composing a poem about their adventure so far.

“Yeah,” Spencer said dryly. “Problem solved.”

Ryan gave him a narrow look. “Because you think it’s more plausible that we’ve travelled back in time and met the former incarnations of our modern friends?”

When he put it like that, maybe Spencer did believe in shared fever dreams.



Spencer woke too hot and twisted up in his hammock. He only vaguely remembered crawling into it the night before. He knew he had to have been really drunk to have been able to fall asleep in it in the first place.

Ryan’s hammock was already empty. Spencer got up on unsteady legs. He still felt a little dizzy, whether from drink or drugs, he couldn’t say. Ryan was already up on deck. He’d readjusted his scarves so they mostly covered the fair skin of his neck, chest and arms, and someone had lent him pants. They were cinched tightly around his waist and rolled up several times, so Spencer could guess they’d originally belonged to one of the giants onboard.

Nathaniel and Ryan were messing around with one of the masts. Spencer really knew less than nothing about how boats worked, particularly these old-fashioned kinds, and Ryan knew less than Spencer. But he was working quickly, without instruction, and he seemed to know what he was doing.

“Natural,” Nathaniel explained. He, Spencer recalled from their discussions last night, was the Carpenter of the ship, among other things.

“Can I…er…help?” Spencer asked. He remembered Bill saying that could work off their passage, and he’d rather it be something like this than Gabriel thinking up other activities.

“I think we got this covered,” Nathaniel said. “But I bet Ryland could use you.”

Ryland was the Bosun, and Spencer didn’t have any idea what that meant. However, it seemed to entail a lot of climbing up things like a monkey and hanging suspended by rigging, checking ropes and sails and things.

Spencer didn’t understand why it was done, but once Ryland had gone over everything, Spencer found it simple enough to follow along. He liked the physical work. He wasn’t a big girl like Ryan, who hated getting sweaty. Mostly Spencer spent his days out of the sun, hidden behind a desk in his office. This was almost better than going to the gym, being at sea with the breeze and the hot sun beating down.

“What’s up with Bill and Gabriel?” Spencer overheard Ryan asking Nathaniel.

Nathaniel gave Ryan a bewildered look. Ryan flushed and shook his head. “I mean. Obviously they’re…that’s not what I meant. I mean, Bill keeps referring to the Black Mamba as being his ship, but Gabriel goes around calling himself captain, and I’m certain I heard Tony calling Bill the captain…”

“Oh.” Nathaniel shrugged again. “Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed that William and Ryland are British. And you know, most people don’t look favourably on that right now. But when the war broke out, they were on our side from the start. Gabriel, too. He joined before the rest of his country got in on things. So William had this ship, a merchant vessel, and he. Er. Surrendered it to Gabriel.”

Ryan was watching, rapt. Nathaniel went on. “I mean. Technically, as far as the authorities are concerned, William and Michael and Ryland are our prisoners. But Bden doesn’t make Gabriel turn them over to the authorities. Bden loves them too much.”

“Bden?” Ryan said.

“Oh! He’s an Admiral of the American Navy. He doesn’t like being an Admiral, though, so he travels around with his best friend, and Bden pretends to be captain. But he was friends with William growing up, so he knows the truth, that Gabriel didn’t really capture the Mamba, so much as William handed it over willingly.”

Spencer had to admit it was an interesting story. “You’ll meet Bden and his crew soon,” Ryland said. “We’re meeting them up in Eleuthera before we head on to Port-de-Paix.”

“It’s true?” Spencer said. “You just gave the ship up?”

Ryland smiled at Spencer like Spencer was a particularly slow child. “We didn’t just give it up,” he said. “We disagreed with England, believed in America’s right to independence, and threw in our lot with the American’s. Gabe didn’t have a ship, and he wanted to join, as well. So William let Gabe use his ship.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gabriel said, appearing beneath them on the deck. “I caught William fair and square.”

“It’s true,” Travis agreed sagely. “He’s our slave.”

William nodded. “They chain me up to the bed every night,” he said.

“TMI,” Ryan said.

“Tee-em-eye?” Ryland repeated, arching a brow.

Spencer cracked a grin. He had a sudden flash of teaching 20th century slang to the crew. Fever dream or not, it was an amusing thought. Ryan caught his eye, and Spencer could see that he felt the same.

They started out with things like TMI and OMG and other abbreviations before moving on to other, more widely used slang, like ‘dude’ and ‘sweet.’ Spencer used ‘gay’ in the more general sense, but Ryan got all defensive like he always did, and had to set the record straight. For someone who wasn’t gay, Ryan got pretty pissy about people using it to mean anything negative.

Gabriel got a smirk on his face and William and Travis started laughing again. “That’s what you meant, yesterday,” William said, between gasps of laughter.

Spencer felt himself flush dark red and Ryan glowered at them. Spencer redirected everyone’s attention by teaching them the fine art of 21st century cuss words. It was sort of fascinating to watch. By the end of the day, most of the crew had picked their favourites of the new words and were trying to fit them into regular conversation.

“I think we have done our duty to the 18th century,” Ryan said that night, after their third or fourth round of mead and their second pipe of opium. Spencer laid his head on Ryan’s shoulder and nodded his head. He buried his face in Ryan’s hair, which still smelled sweet, even after two days at sea without a shower.

“You two are so gay,” Joe said fondly, and Spencer flipped him off without looking.



They reached Eleuthera late the next evening. Andy, Mike and Tony stayed aboard, but the rest went into town. Spencer hadn’t ever heard of Eleuthera, but it was a place familiar to the crew. Every person in town seemed to know Gabriel, greeting him as they passed. Spencer kept waiting for some prostitutes to come up and slap Gabriel across the face, like Jack Sparrow. This place seemed a lot like the Tortuga from the movie, only with worse costumes and makeup.

Joe had gone on ahead of them, and he met them halfway through town. “Doesn’t look like Bden’s made it yet,” he said.

“Oh no,” Gabriel said, mock pity. “I suppose we’ll just have to party until they get here.”

There was a tavern near shore where they ended up for the night. Gabriel and Travis knew the owner, so all the other customers were ushered out and the crew of the Black Mamba took over. They were served a surprisingly delicious stew, and then round after round of the local homebrew. It was probably the strongest shit Spencer had ever had.

Various members of the crew were playing music, and for the first time since they ended up…wherever they were, Spencer missed the music with which he was familiar. His iPod was still in his pants pocket, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it to the crew, no matter how much he thought they’d appreciate it.

Instead, Spencer pulled Ryan aside and whispered to him and they managed to talk Ryland out of his lute. Spencer made do with a rain stick the bar owner’s wife had, and they began working out acoustic covers of various of their favourite songs, Ryan providing vocals.

At first, everyone just sort of stared, but then Gabriel and Travis start moving their hips along to the beat. They pulled William between them and then the rest of the crew got into it.

Hours later, Ryland took his lute back. He messed around with songs he’d been playing them the past few nights, but different, like he was trying to make them sound more like what Ryan had been playing.

Ryan grabbed Gabe’s hips and showed him how to move them right, and soon everyone was grinding together, dirty and laughing. Victoria in particular seemed to enjoy it, dancing fast and nasty with everyone in the room while Gabriel, Travis and William started a slow grind in the shadows of the corner. After some impressive dance moves on Nathaniel’s part, Ryan decided his new nickname should be Nasty Nate, and it caught on pretty quickly.

Spencer wasn’t a dancer, but he was happy to let Michael and Alexander try out their newly learned moves with him. Spencer got this flash of melancholy and longing, to think that they would never be a part of this, really. That he and Ryan could teach them all these things, but they’d forever belong to the past. It wasn’t that Spencer had any desire to stay where he was, whether it be stuck in a fever dream in the past. But it made him sad.

Technically they had access to the bedrooms upstairs from the tavern, but as things began to wind down, people began falling asleep in the booths or strewn out over tables. Spencer thought it was sort of sweet, the pile Gabriel, Travis and William made over the bench of a booth, and the way Victoria’s lap pillowed Nate’s head, while she played with his hair.

Spencer ended up slouched in a booth between Alexander and Joe. Joe, despite having called Spencer gay for the very thing the night before, tugged Spencer’s head to his chest and rubbed his scalp. Alexander’s head drooped onto Spencer’s shoulder and Joe’s head fell onto Spencer’s head, and that was all Spencer remembered before he fell asleep, that and seeing Ryland and Ryan together across the bar, heads bent together over the lute.



Spencer woke up having to piss like a racehorse and feeling like something died in his mouth. He blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the bright light streaming through the windows, and noticed Jon standing above him, staring.

“Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?” Brendon asked, from near the door.

“Captain,” Jon called. Alexander had fallen into Spencer’s lap and he nuzzled against Spencer’s jeans. Joe made a snorting, sleepy sound. Neither of them woke.

“Jon, what…” Brendon trailed off, eyes landing on Spencer. His gaze shot around the room them, finally seeing Ryan. He and Ryland had ended up slumped over the tabletop, Ryan’s hands cradling his head.

“Gabriel!” Brendon snapped.

“What the fuck, dude?” Gabriel muttered, smooshed between his two lovers. Brendon frowned, and Spencer fought the inane urge to grin that Gabriel was catching on to slang so quickly. There were bigger concerns right now.

“Admiral,” Nate greeted, smiling stupidly. Spencer thought Nate was probably still drunk.

Spencer shouldn’t have been surprised that they knew Brendon and Jon. After all, both crews seemed to know Gerard, Greta and Pete. But no one on the Mamba had brandished weapons or been unreasonably creepy, like Frank.

“You’re lucky Frank stayed with the ship,” Jon said to Spencer, as if reading his mind. “He wasn’t very happy with you after the other day.”

“Yeah, well,” Ryan muttered, “we weren’t very happy with him, either.” He lifted his head delicately from the table, and Spencer could tell Ryan had a headache just in the way he held himself.

“Did you know you’re carrying two potential spies?” Brendon asked Gabriel.

William muttered something against Gabriel’s shoulder and Gabriel gave Brendon a confused look. “Dude. You know William and Ryland are on our side.”

Brendon shook his head. “Why do you keep calling me…I’m not talking about William and Ryland,” he snapped. “I’m talking about Ryan and Spencer.”

Travis giggled. “Those two, spies?” he asked.

“The Black Infinity missed our rendezvous, and then we found these two outside Nassau, on a strange ship. They said they knew were Gerard was, and led us to Nassau, where they escaped,” Brendon said.

“If we were spies,” Ryan said, tone scathing, “do you think we’d run away from you just to join up with your allies and get caught again a few days later?” Spencer felt it best to leave out the part that they hadn’t known that the crew of the Mamba was allies with that of the Sea.

Jon’s lips quirked like it made sense, but Brendon’s frown deepened. “Joe, Alexander, wake the hell up. Take Spencer back to the Sea. Ryland, you can take Ryan, I trust? Jon and I must speak to your captains.”



Frank was practically foaming at the mouth when he saw Ryan and Spencer. He got his dagger out and was all up in Ryan’s face in a matter of seconds. “Dude, step the fuck off,” Joe said, in that mellow way he had. Spencer thought Joe was pretty awesome, and also quick at picking things up.

“I can take care of them from here,” Frank said.

Ryland and Joe exchanged looks over Ryan’s head. “That’s quite alright,” Ryland said slowly. “Brendon was fairly clear about us being the ones to do it. We’ll just stay with them until he and Jon return.”

Frank compromised by following along after them, muttering threatening things under his breath and glaring darkly at everyone. Ryland led them into the captain’s cabin and made himself comfortable behind the desk. Alexander half sat in his lap. Spencer was beginning to wonder at their closeness, and that of everyone else in this group. Certainly this sort of thing wasn’t normal in the 18th century. Then again, they were on ships…

“So, you’ve done something nefarious with The Black Infinity?” Ryland asked casually.

Spencer rolled his eyes and saw Ryland trying not to crack a smile. “I’m not even sure how to begin to explain it to you,” Spencer said. “But sufficed to say, Ryan and I didn’t do anything to Gerard or Pete, or any of the others. We don’t even know Gerard, but Pete is our friend.”

“Then why did you lie about them being at Nassau?” Frank demanded.

Spencer sighed and Ryan shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “That’s where we saw them last,” Spencer muttered.

“There isn’t even a bar called The Littlest Mermaid,” Frank said, voice rising in pitch and volume with every word.

Ryland cringed and Joe stepped subtly between Frank and Ryan and Spencer. It was a nice thought, Spencer figured, but he wasn’t sure how much actual good Joe would be in a fight against Frank. Joe seemed about as threatening as a kitten.

“We will take care of this interrogation, Frank, thank you,” Brendon said. Spencer hadn’t even heard the door open, but when he turned, Brendon and Jon were standing just inside, watching.

“In fact,” Brendon said, “I think we’re going to be switching up the crew roster a little. Michael and Mike are going to be joining us and Frank, you and Darren are going to take their places on the Mamba.”

Frank glowered at them. “You’re not my admiral,” he said. “You can’t just order me around. Gee’s the only one I take orders from.”

Jon sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Frank, you can either go to the Mamba, or we can leave you here.”

“Come on, little man,” Ryland said. He got up and put an arm around Frank’s shoulder that Frank immediately shrugged off.

“I’ll kill you,” Frank said to Ryland quietly. And then to Spencer and Ryan, with more fervour. “I’ll kill you.” Joe whispered something in Frank’s ear that made Frank deflate a little, and then he left Joe and Ryland lead him off.

“Hey,” Alexander said on the way out, “be cool.”

“You too,” Spencer said, letting Alexander tap his fist against Spencer’s, like they’d been teaching the Mamba. Alexander squeezed Ryan’s shoulder and left.

Brendon and Jon were giving them strange looks. “There was no bar with the name you gave us,” Brendon said. He went to his seat and Jon leaned against the side of the desk.

“Look,” Ryan snapped. “We didn’t do anything to your friends, and Pete’s a big spaz, he probably just forgot you were supposed to meet, or something.”

Jon made a face like he sort of agreed. “While that doesn’t sound unlike Pete,” Brendon said, “Gerard is far more responsible than that.”

“We’re Americans,” Spencer said. He let his annoyance show. “You can see that. Why would we want to do something with them?”

“Not every American supports our bid for independence,” Brendon said. “Just as Ryland and William joined our fight, there are those Americans who have turned to the British.”

“Whatever. I don’t know what else we can tell you. You can ask all the stupid questions you want. We’re not spies, we didn’t do anything to your friends. All we want to do is go home,” Spencer said. That was all he was going to say on the matter, too.

“We have had your ship taken to Nassau. We are heading for Port-de-Paix now. Mister Stump will decide whether or not you will be allowed to return to it,” Brendon said.

“Terrific,” Spencer said.

Jon had that strange smirky smile back again. “In the meantime,” Brendon said, “we’ve decided not to lock you back in the brig. Travis convinced us that you are harmless, and as we will be at sea, with only the Mamba as company, I am not particularly worried that you’ll be mounting another escape plan.”

“How magnanimous,” Ryan said, in a high fluttery voice.

“All the same,” Brendon went on, “you will remain with one of us at all times. Jon will be keeping an eye on you, Spencer, and I will look after Ryan. In the evenings, we’ll be locking you in our quarters.”

Spencer couldn’t help it. He looked at Ryan’s wide-eyed, almost comically horrified face, and then the two of them burst into laughter. “I’m pretty sure your mom has this book,” Ryan said, and Spencer said, “oh god,” and the two of them buried their faces in each other’s shoulders, struggling to breathe.

Brendon looked honestly bewildered, which made Spencer slightly less worried about Ryan’s virtue. He whispered as much in Ryan’s ear and got a solid punch in the arm for his effort.



Jon had his own quarters off of Brendon’s. They weren’t so ridiculously opulent as the William’s, but they looked more comfortable than the hammocks Spencer had got used to over the past few nights. Jon had a fairly big bed with high sides, no doubt to keep him from rolling out during a storm. There was a desk covered in papers and books and a barred shelf filled with various kinds of alcohol. But Spencer’s attention was drawn to the corner.

There was a comfortable looking armchair with a guitar propped against the side and beside them both was an easel. The easel had a mostly finished watercolour of some busy harbour, and on the walls to either side were several finished watercolours—some with similar scenes, some of people Spencer had met over the past few days, or strangers, some with animals or the sunset on the water.

“Did you do these?” he asked. He didn’t want to really talk to Jon, mostly because this whole scenario was ridiculous, and Spencer didn’t want to deal with ridiculous. But the paintings were really kind of awesome.

Jon came to stand beside Spencer and shrugged. “We travel a lot, obviously. I like the way things look, and then I picture them in my head, and when I see them again, it’s never the same. So I paint them.”

Spencer thought about the way Ryan liked to take photographs of regular, everyday things that no one else would bother with, and how they had a separate album for each of the vacations they’d been on, and how Ryan’s sidekick needed it’s own 8 gig micro sd card for all the stupid pictures he took. Spencer thought maybe it was a little sad that Jon didn’t have that luxury. But then again, Jon’s paintings were a lot nicer than most the pictures Ryan took.

“Don’t you have, like, duties, or something,” Spencer asked. He was annoyed at himself for asking Jon about the paintings, and he wasn’t sure why. “I mean, being the commander.”

Jon laughed. “Actually,” he said, pitching his voice low and private, like he was telling Spencer a secret, “I’m the captain of the Behind the Sea, but Brendon hates being called Admiral, so we let him pretend.”

And, Spencer really should have put that much together, from what Ryland and the others had told them about Admiral Bden. He wanted to make a Captain Kirk reference and then realised any pop-culture jokes were going to be lost on Jon. Spencer found himself making a sour face.

Jon went on, watching Spencer warily. “Master Conrad is my Second in Command, and he is quite capable of keeping order on the ship. It isn’t difficult. You’ve seen how the Mamba works. The Sea is the same. Everyone here does their job without complaint, and they are good at what they do.

“I spend most of my day observing on deck, or taking care of the charts. Brendon is kind of miserable with Cartography,” Jon said. He sounded unbothered by it. There was an altogether laid back air about him.

“So. Do you want to tell me what you were doing out at sea in your advanced boat, if you aren’t spies?” Jon asked casually.

Spencer levelled him with a glare. “No,” he said.

“Alright,” Jon said. “Come on, I’ll take you on a tour of the ship.”



Spencer spent his afternoon following Jon around the ship as he went about his duties. The first time on the ship, Spencer hadn’t got to meet the crew, but Jon fixed that this time.

Bob was a small, quiet guy in charge of the sails. He didn’t say much to Spencer, and Jon explained that Bob’s best friend was on The Black Infinity. Spencer appreciated that Bob didn’t feel the same need Frank did to go crazy on innocent people over his friend’s disappearance.

Cash was kind of obnoxious, but he had Ryland’s job on this ship, and he was so busy hopping all over the ship that he wasn’t often in Spencer’s vicinity. Jon explained that usually the three ships often changed rosters, and assured Spencer that Cash wasn’t quite so difficult to handle when his friends were around. They, too, were on the Infinity, but Cash didn’t seem overly worried about that.

Adam turned out to be the Sisky to which William had often referred on the Mamba, and Butcher was the Andrew Gabriel had mentioned, so Spencer felt he already knew them. It helped that now Michael and Mike were aboard the ship, and they were close friends to Butcher and Sisky. When Michael said Spencer and Ryan were cool, the others accepted it without question.

Tom wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but Jon said Spencer would meet him at dinner. Spencer wasn’t sure that he particularly cared to, but he didn’t say as much. Then Jon had spent the rest of the afternoon the captain’s cabin, going over sea charts. Ryan had been dragged on deck with Brendon, so Spencer was left alone with Jon.

It wasn’t so bad. In fact, and it wasn’t like Spencer was going to admit it to Jon, but the sea charts were really neat. They were big and sprawling and difficult to handle, which led to lots of jagged rips and pages curling when Jon tried to read them. Spencer could see a lot of familiar shorelines that were surprisingly accurate, given that there was no way the artists could have seen them from above.

There were some obvious mistakes here and there, but mostly Spencer was just really impressed that Jon and Gerard had drawn these by hand. They were remarkably detailed, covered in tiny notes and little drawings of mermaids and dragons and boats. Spencer had always thought that was just a Hollywood thing.

“Before the war broke out, we weren’t exactly a legal operation,” Jon admitted, when Spencer found what was an honest to god, totally real treasure map. “Brendon and Gerard were never big on piracy, and still aren’t even now, but Gabriel, Pete and William didn’t have any problem with it. Brendon liked to distract them from attacking ships by searching for treasure.”

If he really thought about it, Spencer realised that of course pirates had been real, and so had their treasures. But it had all been so sensationalised in movies that it was difficult to accept that this sort of thing had actually happened.

Jon kept up a running commentary the whole day, having a one-sided conversation with Spencer. He didn’t seem to mind that Spencer didn’t answer half his questions or respond to most of his statements. Jon showed him how to use the sextant and the quadrant and the nonius.

And, okay, Spencer felt a little bit like he was in one of his mother’s novels when Jon stood close behind Spencer and helped him line up the sextant with his arms around Spencer’s waist and his breath stirring Spencer’s hair. Spencer wasn’t some stupid heroine, though, and his heart certainly didn’t start beating faster.


Part 3