SleepyWitch
04-02-2014, 12:38 PM
Hi guys, I wrote this based on a creative writing prompt for kids. Feedback? I'll post the prompt at the end, but please only read it after the story because it would spoil everything.
THANKS
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sun was about to complete its descent into the sea and stretched a liquid golden tongue towards the shore. The wind began to reverse its direction and rustled in the trees atop the hills on either side of the bay. Down on the beach the last two straggling bathers were knocked over by an unexpected wave. On the promenade, a newspaper was blown into the crowns of the palm trees, which rejected the dusty intruder and dropped it down onto the porch of Fernando’s café. At the far end of the bay in the harbour, which was sheltered by St Sebastian’s hill, the waves clashed ineffectually against the prow of the freighter Redención.
He looked out over the bay. The wind made his eyes water a little. He watched the sun creep towards the horizon. Ambrosio Calderón-McMillan, Admiral of the Navy of the Federation of South American States. By this time tomorrow, his rank would be meaningless.
“Why have you commandeered my ship? Who do you think you are to waltz aboard and lord it over my men? I’m running a very tight schedule! I haven’t got time to wait for a bunch of cows while I’ve got several thousand tons of bananas rotting away in their containers. I demand an explanation!”
Ambrosio raised an eyebrow as a shower of Captain Sanchez’s saliva hit his cheek.
“You think you’ve got a tight schedule? I’ve got to have this barge all loaded up by eleven hundred hours tomorrow morning.” Ambrosio replied firmly.
The stout little man was not impressed. “You are losing my company 2 million SudAm Dollars! I demand an explanation!” he yelled.
“Or else?”
“Or else, I’m going to tell my men to disobey your orders!”
Ambrosio hesitated. It was unfortunate, to say the least, that all but one of his ships were out patrolling the Pacific. The Fuerza del Sur was in the docks to have its engine overhauled. Could he quench a mutiny? No it was ten of his specially selected team of men against Sanchez’s 30 and he needed every one of them to operate the cranes. A myriad of options buzzed around his brain. Not enough time to think.
“Do you realize that refusal to have your ship commandeered by an Admiral of the Navy carries the death penalty?” he asked calmly.
“Only in a state of emergency.” snapped the freighter captain. “Hang on… What is going on?”
Ambrosio’s hands gripped the railing. He took a deep breath. If only he could finish Sanchez off right here and now.
“So you want to know what’s going on? Fine, come with me.” He reached for his compad in his pocket. “Commander Alvarez, I’m going ashore. You are in command. Any problems, ping me. Understood?”
“Where are we going?”
“To the mayor’s office.”
His Jeep was parked down on the dockside. “Get in the back.” he ordered Sanchez and locked the back doors with the touch of a button. “Keep your hands on your knees.”
They made their way towards the city past a line of 20 trucks. Some of the drivers were leaning out of the windows and smoking. Some were ambling back and forth on the dockside.
The Street of the Doves of Peace was congested. People were sitting on the terraces of the bars sipping pisco sours. Ambrosio cursed under his breath. They waited in a long line at the traffic lights, just for the lights to turn back to red as soon as they had reach the white line. A drunken party-goer staggered across the road. He leant on the hood of the Jeep and threw up all over the windshield. “No to war! Murderers!” he shouted and threw up again.
Ambrosio got out of the car, grabbed the man by the collar and plonked him down on the sidewalk. “Shut up.” he said.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that not everybody was going to be part of the new civilization.
When the entered the mayor’s office, Alonso Rodriguez was on the vidcom, his round face creased in consternation. Two body guards in black suits flanked the mahogany desk.
“Yes, Mr President. In fact, the Admiral is here with me right now to give me an update on the situation. I’ll ring you again in 15 minutes.” said the mayor.
He wiped his face with a handkerchief and addressed Ambrosio.
“How is it going, Admiral?”
“Everything is going according to schedule, Sir.” replied Ambrosio. “Except that Captain Sanchez demands an explanation or he is going to incite his men to mutiny.”
“Very well, Mr Sanchez.” began the mayor. “We have reason to believe that the sea level will rise by 1,000 to 1,500 metres globally tomorrow evening. We are taking measures to rescue 150 suitable citizens, as well as appropriate livestock. Similar operations are being carried out in major ports around the world as we speak.”
Ambrosio frowned. Cows for the milk and the meat, that was obvious. Goats because they provided wool and were better adapted to live in mountainous regions than sheep. Pigs for the meat. Donkeys for transportation and because they were tougher than horses. But cats? Cats? Someone at headquarters must have had a brain fart when they came up with that. Cats had to be the most useless animals on the planet. Dogs could hunt. Dogs could rescue people. But cats? If you were very lucky, they’d try to mutilate you as a sign of their affection. Apart from that, they’d just ignore you and only communicate when they wanted to be fed. No time to argue about it now. 30 years in the Navy had taught him not to question orders in an emergency.
“100 ‘suitable’ citizens?” Sanchez gasped. “You are going to let the rest of us die just like that?”
“Mr Sanchez, surely you understand that we have got neither the time nor the resources to save everyone.” the mayor explained. “We must avoid a mass panic.”
“You elitist swine!” roared Sanchez. “I’ve got a friend who works for the Daily Proclaimer. This will be…………………” Sanchez sank down to the floor. A streak of blood traced the course of his slump where he had been leaning against the wall.
The mayor retched. “Thank.. Thank you, Suarez.” he nodded at the bodyguard, who put his gun back under his jacket.
“I will keep you posted, Sir.” said Ambrosio. “See you in the morning.”
The traffic was still slow-going. Ambrosio turned on the radio and took in the view of the crowded bars and the palm trees along the middle of the road. A breeze blew in through the window and carried the smell of barbeque. Better let them enjoy their last evening.
They had to be well clear of the coast by seventeen hundred hours tomorrow. In case there was a tsunami, they wouldn’t want to be bashed against the hills of the coast. The waves would be a lot lower further out. With a lot of luck, they could reach the next mountain range and land just above the treeline, where there was sparse grass for the animals to graze and set up their ‘colony’ there.
The top brass had never said what their evidence was and how the disaster was going to happen. Meteorite? Alien invasion? Was there even enough water in the oceans for it to rise by that much? The mid-ocean ridges would have to rise all of a sudden. What could cause them to rise that high? Maybe the Russians had ‘lost’ a few plutonium cores right over the mid-ocean rifts, which would cause eruptions in the Earth’s mantle? That would cause massive earthquakes. Or were they going to blow up what remained of the polar caps? No… the Second Cold War had been dragging on for 20 years, but not even the Russians were that crazy.
When he pulled into the harbour, the trucks had started to move.
Commander Alvarez stood at the top of the ramp of the cargo bay, giving directions on his compad. “Admiral!” he saluted.
“At ease, Alvarez.” said Ambrosio. “What have we got?”
“The containers are all loaded up with the equipment, we finished that last night: tents, cots, blankets, medical supplies, tools, 50 hunting rifles, 10 assault rifles, ammo, six months’ worth of army rations, seeds, lighters, camping stoves …. we’ve got to tow the gas bottles behind us in a net in case they blow up. Satcom station, solar power generator, two laptops with Perschebel’s World Encyclopedia, genetic profiles of all passengers and crew…”
“Have we got a print-out of those?” Ambrosio enquired.
“Yes, sealed watertight.”
“Are the rifles secure?”
“Yes, the container’s got a retina scanner on. It’s programmed to open only when you scan your eyes.”
“Excellent. Anything else?”
“500 bales of hay for the animals. Poles to prise the containers open if the locks get stuck. Now we’ve only got to get the containers on board and drive the animals into the cargo bay.”
“Will they be able to breathe inside the containers?” asked Ambrosio.
“Yes, we’ve drilled holes in the walls. Took a while, even with the diamond drills.”
“Got the cats?” Ambrosio inquired with an ironic smirk.
“Yes, they're in that sack over there, got them from the sanctuary.”
“Great. I’ll just go to the bridge and will join you shortly.”
On the bridge, the bespectacled communications officer Maravilla looked up from the screen. “Sir!”
“Any news on the web?”
“Only a few power shortages where they’ve switched off nuclear plants. A few environmentalist groups demanding to know the reason.”
“Hm. Could you put me through to my house on a secure channel?”
“How secure?”
“So secure that even the government won’t know.”
“I’ve written this new encryption programme, but I haven’t tested it yet. I can get you one and a half minutes, Sir.”
“That’ll do.”
One minute, 30 seconds; one minute 29 seconds; one minute 28 seconds …. one minute 20 seconds. Esperanza’s sleepy face appeared on the screen.
“Hello, daddy.”
“Hi, sweetheart. Where is your mum?”
“She’s gone over to the Martinez.”
One minute.
“Tell your mum we’re going on a trip tomorrow. An officer is coming to pick you up and you must go with him.”
“I can’t. Bubbles has run away. We’ve got to look for him tomorrow.” the girl whined.
“Darling, you must do as I say.”
“No! Not without Bubbles!”
“Ok… I’ve got a new cat for you. 20 new cats.”
“What kind of cats?” she squinted sceptically.
“The cutest kittens you have ever seen.” 15 seconds.
“Promise you’ll tell your mum!”
“Yes, OK.”
“Good night. See you tomorrow.” 2 seconds. The screen went blank.
Ambrosio got his compad out. “Segovia, where are you? Get off the crane, run some more navigation simulations and then go to bed. I’ll replace you on the crane.”
He turned to face the communications officer. “Thanks for that, Maravilla. See you in the morning. I’ve got to collect a sack of cats and store them in the Captain’s quarters.”죈
THANKS
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sun was about to complete its descent into the sea and stretched a liquid golden tongue towards the shore. The wind began to reverse its direction and rustled in the trees atop the hills on either side of the bay. Down on the beach the last two straggling bathers were knocked over by an unexpected wave. On the promenade, a newspaper was blown into the crowns of the palm trees, which rejected the dusty intruder and dropped it down onto the porch of Fernando’s café. At the far end of the bay in the harbour, which was sheltered by St Sebastian’s hill, the waves clashed ineffectually against the prow of the freighter Redención.
He looked out over the bay. The wind made his eyes water a little. He watched the sun creep towards the horizon. Ambrosio Calderón-McMillan, Admiral of the Navy of the Federation of South American States. By this time tomorrow, his rank would be meaningless.
“Why have you commandeered my ship? Who do you think you are to waltz aboard and lord it over my men? I’m running a very tight schedule! I haven’t got time to wait for a bunch of cows while I’ve got several thousand tons of bananas rotting away in their containers. I demand an explanation!”
Ambrosio raised an eyebrow as a shower of Captain Sanchez’s saliva hit his cheek.
“You think you’ve got a tight schedule? I’ve got to have this barge all loaded up by eleven hundred hours tomorrow morning.” Ambrosio replied firmly.
The stout little man was not impressed. “You are losing my company 2 million SudAm Dollars! I demand an explanation!” he yelled.
“Or else?”
“Or else, I’m going to tell my men to disobey your orders!”
Ambrosio hesitated. It was unfortunate, to say the least, that all but one of his ships were out patrolling the Pacific. The Fuerza del Sur was in the docks to have its engine overhauled. Could he quench a mutiny? No it was ten of his specially selected team of men against Sanchez’s 30 and he needed every one of them to operate the cranes. A myriad of options buzzed around his brain. Not enough time to think.
“Do you realize that refusal to have your ship commandeered by an Admiral of the Navy carries the death penalty?” he asked calmly.
“Only in a state of emergency.” snapped the freighter captain. “Hang on… What is going on?”
Ambrosio’s hands gripped the railing. He took a deep breath. If only he could finish Sanchez off right here and now.
“So you want to know what’s going on? Fine, come with me.” He reached for his compad in his pocket. “Commander Alvarez, I’m going ashore. You are in command. Any problems, ping me. Understood?”
“Where are we going?”
“To the mayor’s office.”
His Jeep was parked down on the dockside. “Get in the back.” he ordered Sanchez and locked the back doors with the touch of a button. “Keep your hands on your knees.”
They made their way towards the city past a line of 20 trucks. Some of the drivers were leaning out of the windows and smoking. Some were ambling back and forth on the dockside.
The Street of the Doves of Peace was congested. People were sitting on the terraces of the bars sipping pisco sours. Ambrosio cursed under his breath. They waited in a long line at the traffic lights, just for the lights to turn back to red as soon as they had reach the white line. A drunken party-goer staggered across the road. He leant on the hood of the Jeep and threw up all over the windshield. “No to war! Murderers!” he shouted and threw up again.
Ambrosio got out of the car, grabbed the man by the collar and plonked him down on the sidewalk. “Shut up.” he said.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that not everybody was going to be part of the new civilization.
When the entered the mayor’s office, Alonso Rodriguez was on the vidcom, his round face creased in consternation. Two body guards in black suits flanked the mahogany desk.
“Yes, Mr President. In fact, the Admiral is here with me right now to give me an update on the situation. I’ll ring you again in 15 minutes.” said the mayor.
He wiped his face with a handkerchief and addressed Ambrosio.
“How is it going, Admiral?”
“Everything is going according to schedule, Sir.” replied Ambrosio. “Except that Captain Sanchez demands an explanation or he is going to incite his men to mutiny.”
“Very well, Mr Sanchez.” began the mayor. “We have reason to believe that the sea level will rise by 1,000 to 1,500 metres globally tomorrow evening. We are taking measures to rescue 150 suitable citizens, as well as appropriate livestock. Similar operations are being carried out in major ports around the world as we speak.”
Ambrosio frowned. Cows for the milk and the meat, that was obvious. Goats because they provided wool and were better adapted to live in mountainous regions than sheep. Pigs for the meat. Donkeys for transportation and because they were tougher than horses. But cats? Cats? Someone at headquarters must have had a brain fart when they came up with that. Cats had to be the most useless animals on the planet. Dogs could hunt. Dogs could rescue people. But cats? If you were very lucky, they’d try to mutilate you as a sign of their affection. Apart from that, they’d just ignore you and only communicate when they wanted to be fed. No time to argue about it now. 30 years in the Navy had taught him not to question orders in an emergency.
“100 ‘suitable’ citizens?” Sanchez gasped. “You are going to let the rest of us die just like that?”
“Mr Sanchez, surely you understand that we have got neither the time nor the resources to save everyone.” the mayor explained. “We must avoid a mass panic.”
“You elitist swine!” roared Sanchez. “I’ve got a friend who works for the Daily Proclaimer. This will be…………………” Sanchez sank down to the floor. A streak of blood traced the course of his slump where he had been leaning against the wall.
The mayor retched. “Thank.. Thank you, Suarez.” he nodded at the bodyguard, who put his gun back under his jacket.
“I will keep you posted, Sir.” said Ambrosio. “See you in the morning.”
The traffic was still slow-going. Ambrosio turned on the radio and took in the view of the crowded bars and the palm trees along the middle of the road. A breeze blew in through the window and carried the smell of barbeque. Better let them enjoy their last evening.
They had to be well clear of the coast by seventeen hundred hours tomorrow. In case there was a tsunami, they wouldn’t want to be bashed against the hills of the coast. The waves would be a lot lower further out. With a lot of luck, they could reach the next mountain range and land just above the treeline, where there was sparse grass for the animals to graze and set up their ‘colony’ there.
The top brass had never said what their evidence was and how the disaster was going to happen. Meteorite? Alien invasion? Was there even enough water in the oceans for it to rise by that much? The mid-ocean ridges would have to rise all of a sudden. What could cause them to rise that high? Maybe the Russians had ‘lost’ a few plutonium cores right over the mid-ocean rifts, which would cause eruptions in the Earth’s mantle? That would cause massive earthquakes. Or were they going to blow up what remained of the polar caps? No… the Second Cold War had been dragging on for 20 years, but not even the Russians were that crazy.
When he pulled into the harbour, the trucks had started to move.
Commander Alvarez stood at the top of the ramp of the cargo bay, giving directions on his compad. “Admiral!” he saluted.
“At ease, Alvarez.” said Ambrosio. “What have we got?”
“The containers are all loaded up with the equipment, we finished that last night: tents, cots, blankets, medical supplies, tools, 50 hunting rifles, 10 assault rifles, ammo, six months’ worth of army rations, seeds, lighters, camping stoves …. we’ve got to tow the gas bottles behind us in a net in case they blow up. Satcom station, solar power generator, two laptops with Perschebel’s World Encyclopedia, genetic profiles of all passengers and crew…”
“Have we got a print-out of those?” Ambrosio enquired.
“Yes, sealed watertight.”
“Are the rifles secure?”
“Yes, the container’s got a retina scanner on. It’s programmed to open only when you scan your eyes.”
“Excellent. Anything else?”
“500 bales of hay for the animals. Poles to prise the containers open if the locks get stuck. Now we’ve only got to get the containers on board and drive the animals into the cargo bay.”
“Will they be able to breathe inside the containers?” asked Ambrosio.
“Yes, we’ve drilled holes in the walls. Took a while, even with the diamond drills.”
“Got the cats?” Ambrosio inquired with an ironic smirk.
“Yes, they're in that sack over there, got them from the sanctuary.”
“Great. I’ll just go to the bridge and will join you shortly.”
On the bridge, the bespectacled communications officer Maravilla looked up from the screen. “Sir!”
“Any news on the web?”
“Only a few power shortages where they’ve switched off nuclear plants. A few environmentalist groups demanding to know the reason.”
“Hm. Could you put me through to my house on a secure channel?”
“How secure?”
“So secure that even the government won’t know.”
“I’ve written this new encryption programme, but I haven’t tested it yet. I can get you one and a half minutes, Sir.”
“That’ll do.”
One minute, 30 seconds; one minute 29 seconds; one minute 28 seconds …. one minute 20 seconds. Esperanza’s sleepy face appeared on the screen.
“Hello, daddy.”
“Hi, sweetheart. Where is your mum?”
“She’s gone over to the Martinez.”
One minute.
“Tell your mum we’re going on a trip tomorrow. An officer is coming to pick you up and you must go with him.”
“I can’t. Bubbles has run away. We’ve got to look for him tomorrow.” the girl whined.
“Darling, you must do as I say.”
“No! Not without Bubbles!”
“Ok… I’ve got a new cat for you. 20 new cats.”
“What kind of cats?” she squinted sceptically.
“The cutest kittens you have ever seen.” 15 seconds.
“Promise you’ll tell your mum!”
“Yes, OK.”
“Good night. See you tomorrow.” 2 seconds. The screen went blank.
Ambrosio got his compad out. “Segovia, where are you? Get off the crane, run some more navigation simulations and then go to bed. I’ll replace you on the crane.”
He turned to face the communications officer. “Thanks for that, Maravilla. See you in the morning. I’ve got to collect a sack of cats and store them in the Captain’s quarters.”죈