Uploaded: 04/01/2011

The Potter Identity

Prologue

Jan de Graaf studied his hand, brow furrowed as he analyzed the possibilities. Returning the cards to their previous face-down position, he switched his focus to the men around the small table in the bowels of the ancient fishing boat Brandaen. His longtime friend Gerard folded, then stared at the pot with a rueful look, shaking his head wistfully as if thinking about all the possibilities now lost because those coins would not be in his possession. The young deckhand Wolter looked edgy has he pushed the few coins still in his possession toward the center of the table; just enough to call. 'He is praying for a miracle' thought Jan with some vindictive satisfaction. The young man was not a threat.

Roelof was another matter. His visage was like it always was: Stern, unreadable, and demanding. Just the qualities you wanted in your captain, and exactly what you expected from a Dutchman. But in poker, that look infuriated Jan. He couldn't remember how many hundreds of Euros – and before that, probably thousands of Gilders – he had lost to the man over the years at this very table. Suddenly his two pair of Queens over nines felt inadequate.

With a grunt Roelof pushed a few coins across the table to call and motioned for Jan to show his two pair. Wolter sagged as he flashed a pair of kings and nothing else. Roelof hadn't changed expression at all; he merely stacked his cards and set them on the table face-up, showing a seven of hearts. With his extended index finger he slid the seven of hearts off to the right, revealing a six of clubs. Jan tightened his jaw as one by one each card came into view. Five of spades. Four of hearts. And three of diamonds. The captain managed to slap together a straight and only now as he raked in the 20-odd euros that littered the table did he crack a smile.

Jan had enough poker for one night, preferring to keep a few euros for his own use instead of funding … whatever it was the captain did when they were in port. Climbing the stairs he heard the steady downpour pounding against the decks. Thankfully the seas were unusually calm, but that also meant the rain was relentless since there was no impetus to push the weather away. Pushing himself under a ledge on the boat's superstructure, he pulled out a half-smoked cigar and fumbled with the cheap matchbook a few moments before successfully striking.

For several minutes, all Jan could concentrate on was the rhythmic sound of rain, the burning embers at the end of his cigar, and the euros lost to Roelof. With a final sigh, he took one more drag on his cigar and stared out at the vast dark waters of the North Sea. Ten more days before back in port …

Stepping out into the rain long enough to pitch his spent cigar into the sea, he caught a faint speck of light out in the dark waters. Given the Brandaen was at least 50 kilometers from the nearest land mass, Jan couldn't help but be curious as to what that light was all about. Stepping back under the protection of the ledge he first cleaned the water drops off his glasses before affixing them back in place and squinting through the sheets of rain.

It was definitely a light … a whitish-blue light. But it was only one light and didn't appear to be flashing – how could that be? A ship would have several lights and a buoy that might be adrift would have a flashing light.

His curiosity piqued, Jan decended the stairs and once again entered the small room. Wolter had vanished, leaving just Gerard and Roelof at the table Jan himself abandoned not twenty minutes prior. Without preamble Jan started, "There's something in the water."

Roelof arched an eyebrow but beyond that did not change expression nor question him. The two men had worked together for the better part of two decades; Jan knew Roelof trusted him. If he thought this warranted the captain's attention, Roelof would surely check it out. Gerard exchanged a quick look between the two men before falling in step behind the captain as they ascended the stairs.

Reaching the deck, Jan took a moment to regain his bearings and pointed wordlessly toward the faint light. Roelof shielded his eyes from the downpour, quickly caught sight of the light Jan had indicated, and jerked his head once in agreement. "Suit up and grab the hook. I'll drop the raft."

The two men strode back into the hold to gear up before either had a chance to think about the captain's orders. "Does he think that's a body out there?" Gerard asked as he finished pulling on the rubberized waders.

"It appears that way. I'm sure he's had to recover more than a few bodies in his day." Gerard nodded grimly as the two men crossed the deck and clambered into the emergency raft. Roelof unhooked the winches and pushed the men out into the North Sea for their 200 meter journey.

As the raft approached, Jan could make out that it was indeed a body. A few more meters passed and he could now tell it was floating face-up and holding … something … that gave off that eerie glow. As Gerard maneuvered the raft into position, the wake kicked up by the outboard motor caused the body to shift and the light suddenly vanished. Jan didn't give this a second thought and went about hooking the body and dragging it across the water so that he and Gerard could pull it out of the water without falling in themselves.

Soon Jan had the body pulled close enough to the boat so that he could grab and arm and Gerard could grab a leg. With a final tug they managed to flop the body into the boat and Gerard quickly scooted away from it in order to take the prop, leaving Jan to do the dirty work. "Weak," Jan muttered, glaring at Gerard with contempt. Gerard was a fine sailor and a good fisherman, but lacked the leadership in situations like this to ever be a captain.

The body recovered belonged to a man in probably his late teens or early twenties – 'Far too young to meet such a fate,' Jan thought. With a cursory look, Jan noted he had signs of grievous injuries; undoubtedly he crossed someone and they exacted their revenge by feeding him to the fishes. 'Life is simpler on the boat than on land,' Jan mused.

"Why do you figure he's wearing those weird clothes?" Gerard piped up as they slowed their pace in order to allow Roelof to pull them back in. Jan furrowed his brow before concentrating on the boy's appearance again. Sure enough, he was clothed in some odd cloak thing that came down to mid-calf, but had track pants on underneath it.

Gerard maneuvered the raft alongside the Brandaen and hooked up the winch lines. Grabbing the controls, Roelof winched up the raft and its occupants until all were back on the main deck. "Take the body below then return the gear. I'll handle it." With no other instruction he turned back to the raft in order to bail some of the water out and affix the cover. Gerard and Jan looked at each other and, shrugging, Jan lifted the young man over his shoulder to take him below while Gerard grabbed the hook and headed to return the equipment.

A few minutes later Jan wiggled out of the waders and handed them to Gerard, who took them wordlessly and ascended the stairs to return them to the top deck. "Close the door. You may stay if you wish." Roelof intoned to Jan, waving in the direction of the door that led back to the crew quarters where Wolter's head poked around the doorframe.

Despite the grisly subject, Jan felt this was a rare opportunity and another sign of trust on Roelof's part. He quickly closed the door, shooting a glare at Wolter in the process, and locked it before returning to the captain's side. Roelof produced a notebook and pen, indicating that Jan should take notes. "23rd April, 2001 at … 10:40pm. Male body probably around 20 years old pulled from North Sea at 55 degrees, 2 minutes, 48.9 seconds North latitude, 0 degrees, 46 minutes, 48.1 seconds E longitude." Roelof picked up a knife to cut away the strange cloak before continuing. "Looks British … dark hair, maybe 1.9 meters tall … severe trauma of the right arm …one … no, two apparent … gunshot wounds, perhaps … one in the left shoulder, one in the abdomen … large cuts crossing chest and neck … and …"

Jan looked up, unsure why Roelof stopped suddenly. Following the captain's gaze, he could see the blood seeping from the wounds just described and the skin turning slightly pink. "Is he …" Jan started, only to trail off as the captain climbed up on the table with surprising agility in order to place his ear near the young man's chest. Roelof's face told Jan all he needed to know as his eyebrows rose in surprise: The man was alive.

Suddenly a left arm snaked around the captain's neck and the two men fell off the far side of the table. Jan stood rooted to the floor in shock, only to have his rigor broken by Roelof's sudden shouts and curses. Somehow the young man had revived, proving beyond all doubt he was very much alive. Despite his weakened state, he managed to get the captain into a headlock and attempted to pick up the knife from off the floor where it resided after the fall dislodged it from Roelof's grasp. Thankfully for both the captain and Jan, the man's pulverized right arm prevented him from doing anything with that knife except loosely hold it near his side, his arm bobbing uncontrolled with each movement between the two men.

"Please, calm down!" Jan shouted in accented English. "We don't mean to harm you!"

"Who are you?" the young man demanded, fixing Jan with a piercing glare that was made more unnerving by his dark green eyes.

"We are fishermen! Only fishermen! We saw you floating in the sea and pulled you in. We thought you were dead!"

"Are you the captain?"

"I am," replied Roelof in a strangled voice, his skin turning bluish due to lack of oxygen.

"Please, just let the captain go," begged Jan. "We're only trying to help. Please, calm down. Who are you? How did you get in the water?"

While the man didn't immediately let him go, he did loosen his grip and allowed Roelof to gasp down much-needed breaths of air as he tried to concentrate on the question Jan asked. "I … I'm … I don't know …" Suddenly shock etched the young man's features and he began to shake. "Oh, Merlin!" he slurred before slumping to the floor unconscious. Jan immediately extracted Roelof from the man's grip and both sailors clambered as far away as possible in the small room before leaning against the far wall as they attempted to recover.

Roelof rubbed his throat and took several more deep breaths before turning to look at Jan. "Did he just say 'Oh, Merlin'?"