More Things in Heaven and Earth

By: Sleepwalking Dreamer

A Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World Fan Fiction Piece

DISCLAIMERS:

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World © Peter Weir and affiliates

Mercia di Salmileri, Alec Marvail, and other related characters © Sleepwalking Dreamer

Ami Tejada © Black Pearl Eyes

Everything else © respective owners

NOTES:

This was written on a whim, after I had watched the movie several times and been charmed to an inch of my life by James D'Arcy as Lt. Pullings. I would enjoy writing something based on the books, but since I have yet to acquire copies (they are rather difficult to find here on my side of the world), I will settle for using the movie as a basis for now. Perhaps the only thing that I am making use of that comes from the books is the fact that in my story, Dr. Stephen Maturin is an intelligence agent for England.

As for the idea of a machine that can make a breach into the past, well... I recommend that you read at least the first half of Michael Crichton's novel Timeline and if you are interested, then you might want to read the references that he mentions. They are quite helpful, if a little dry - Crichton provides a better explanation in his novel. So, if you wish, you could imagine this as happening in the not-too-far future, when, I am certain, technology will be relatively more advanced.

And finally, my ideas and perceptions of the dark cloak-and-dagger world of spies, as well as my ideas concerning guns and a few types of traditional Western weaponry (though I am fairly confident with my knowledge of traditional Eastern weapons), is very limited and may border on the extremely fanciful. My education on such things has been limited to the more recent James Bond movies, the movie xXx, and Rainbow Six by Tom Clancy. Once more I beg for your pardon, if there is anything here that does not adhere as firmly as it should to reality.

TEASER:

Mercia di Salmileri is on a mission aboard the cruise ship Hecuba, attempting to retrieve a new time-warp machine from the French spy who had stolen it. However, her mission is blown when the thief actually uses the device, and leaves her stranded on the Galapagos Islands, in the year 1805. There she is found, half-dead from dehydration and hunger, by Dr. Stephen Maturin of the HMS Surprise.


Chapter One: Blown Mission

She focused on her reflection in the beautiful gilt mirror of her first-class cabin, making sure that she looked as stunningly beautiful as she could. While this was not the image she wanted to project to the world, she knew that she would need all the wiles and guiles that her femininity had blessed her with tonight. She had managed to track that bastard Romelien this far. She was not about to let him get away.

She took a few steps back, to check the overall picture. Since it was supposed to be a masquerade ball, she was wearing a 16th century Venetian ball gown of deep blue velvet, with a fantastical pattern in gold and silver. Her mask was an antique, made of porcelain and enameled with blue and gold.

She carefully lifted the hem of her gown, noting that the fitted black leggings she wore underneath were concealed by the rich velvet drapery of the skirt, and that not even the tips of her black shoes, which were more like ballet slippers, really, were showing. The neckline of her gown was quite low, but not so low as to reveal the neckline of the fitted black top that she was wearing beneath. When she was in the clear, she would be able to strip off the damned gown, and get to work.

But first, she had to make her appearance.

Huffing, she picked up the mask by the long stem attached to its left side, picked up her purse, and headed out the door of her cabin.

From far away, she could hear the orchestra playing a waltz - a piece by Tchaikovsky, as for as she could tell, taken from the Nutcracker Suite. While she was not that much of a fan of Tchaikovsky, preferring Beethoven and Scarlatti over all other composers, she had to admit that it was a lovely tune, and well played, too.

She drifted down the long hall, the velvet of her gown making soft whispers as it stroked the carpet beneath her feet. Other people – some were guests, but most were members of the cruise ship's staff – greeted her with smiles and courteous bows or curtsies, murmuring "Lady" or "Countess" under their breaths.

She returned their smiles with a small one of her own, occasionally nodding in response to the few whom she knew and liked. Good people were hard to find, especially in this kind of society.

Birth and circumstance dictated that she belonged amongst them. Her wealth and breeding seemed to say that she belonged nowhere else. But she had a mind of her own, and thus had a completely different opinion about the society that she walked in. There were people who would have sold their souls to walk in the circles that she did. She, on the other hand, wanted absolutely nothing to do with it - or the social aspect of it, at any rate.

She had arrived at the doors that led to the main ballroom. She paused momentarily, inhaling to steady herself. She smiled at the two stewards at the doors, and lifted the mask so that it rested just in front of her face. With that movement, the stewards pushed the doors open for her.

The music swelled louder, and this time she could hear the sound of laughter mingling with the music, accompanied by moderate conversation and the clink of champagne flutes.

She stood for a moment at the top of the stairs, scanning the area through her mask. It would not be difficult to pick out who Romelien was; she knew what he had come dressed as.

There. She had spotted him - he was dressed as a French naval officer from the Napoleonic Wars. She allowed her lips to curl into a small smirk. Always a penchant for the flamboyant, she thought. In this case, though, she knew that it would be his downfall. She could see that stupid hat from a mile away.

Knowing that she did not have a lot of time, she began her descent down the staircase. She could practically feel the dozens of eyes that were following her, a few conversations suddenly coming to a halt. It was not everyday, after all, that the reclusive Countess di Salmileri of Venice made a public appearance, and at such a formal event at that, considering how much she hated them.

But she ignored them all. She had come here on a mission, and she was not going to let anything or anyone distract her from it.

It was fortunate that Romelien didn't know what her real purpose was for coming. If he had, then he probably wouldn't have been among the first in line to greet her the moment she reached the ballroom.

He arrived in the company of Count D'Abboville - a respectable man, and one of the few whom she genuinely liked. He doesn't know that he's in the company of a thief and a murderer, she thought, but it was probably for the best that Pierre knew nothing of Romelien's true line of business.

"Ah, it is such a great honor for all of us that you have chosen to grace us with your presence, dear Countess," Count D'Abboville said as he bent over her hand to kiss it. He looked rather dashing in his French cavalier uniform. "It is a rare thing that you come out of your self-imposed seclusion to join us."

She laughed at his gentle teasing. "You know my habits, Pierre," she said lightly. "These parties do not really suit me. I prefer something more relaxed, and more intimate. You are familiar with that."

D'Abboville laughed. "Ah, yes indeed, Countess." He gestured to Romelien then. "Before I go on, allow me to introduce Dr. Jacques Romelien, that brilliant scientist who has made ingenious breakthroughs in the development of quantum computers. Dr. Romelien, it is my honor to introduce the Countess Mercia Stella Fiammeta di Salmileri, perhaps the most mysterious and most beautiful young lady ever to grace Italian society in recent years."

Mercy laughed, thoroughly tickled by the Count's exaggerated description of her charms. "The Count certainly knows how to flatter a woman." She turned her gaze to Romelien, who fixed her with a look that was both measuring and admiring. "And it is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Romelien. I have heard much of your breakthroughs in quantum electronics."

"And it is my honor to be in your presence, Countess," Romelien replied as he bent over her hand. He gave her a smile that she assumed was meant to charm, but had absolutely no effect on her. "I am surprised that you are interested in my research."

"Let us say that it is peripheral to my interest in history," Mercy replied, trying to appear as relaxed and as calm as she could.

Romelien smiled. "Ah, then I take it that you are interested in the possibility of using quantum computers to finally develop a machine that could allow us to go back in time?"

"Precisely." She glanced up at him, arranging her face so that it appeared as if she as interested. "Is it truly possible, then?"

Romelien's smile became slightly darker then. "It seems so, Countess. I have made another breakthrough in my research, and I do not think it will be much longer until we have finally developed a machine that will allow us to go back and forth through time."

"I see." She leaned closer to him, allowing her voice to drop slightly lower, to take a more seductive tone. "Talking to you in the midst of this crowd is not suited to my taste. Might I suggest that we go someplace more private?"

Romelien eyed her for a moment, one eyebrow raised to peek slightly above the white mask that he wore over his face. "Are you certain of that, Countess? Will you not be missed?"

She waved her hand elegantly. "They know my habits. I prefer to talk to people on a more personal level. I hate the pretensions and the protocol that come with gatherings like this." Well, that was true enough. She let her lips curl into a small smile. "Come now, they will not think any less of you. I have spoken to other men in private and they have emerged with their names unmarred."

She noted that Romelien's gaze had turned slightly colder. It was as if he had stepped back from her and was measuring her again, measuring her sincerity. She kept her smile frozen on her mouth, hoping that she had come off as genuine.

Apparently, today was her lucky day, because Romelien smiled back at her, and nodded. "I see. Well, if that is what the lady wants, then that is what the lady will get." He bowed to her, and held his arm out to her. She took it, and guided him back up the stairs to her cabin.

They arrived at her cabin without anyone seeing them leave. That was good, she knew, because that meant there would be fewer people to question why they had gone off. She didn't care if they thought that she and Romelien had done something less than appropriate; she was on a mission, and besides, it was most likely going to be a very long time until these people saw her again in public.

He acted like a gentleman, even going so far as to open the door for her and letting her walk in first. Had this been another time and place she would have insisted that he go first, but since he had not clue as to who she really was, or why she was really here, then she could take a risk just this one.

The interior of the cabin was dimly lit, which was perfect. She gestured to the two chairs in one corner of the cabin, and told him to wait while she went and brought some wine for them to drink while they talked.

She disappeared into a more secluded area of the cabin, one that was positioned behind the sitting area. Now that she had the bastard where she wanted him, she could move to Phase Two of the operation.

She walked over to the small dresser nearby, and slowly opened a drawer. Inside was a special multi-purpose pistol (1), one that had been created for the CIA not too long ago. It could take .44 caliber bullets, as well as other types of ammunition that had particular uses, such as tranquilizer and tracer darts. Just to make sure that she had all her bases covered, she loaded one-third of the barrel with tranquilizer darts, another one-third with tracer darts, and the final third with the bullets.

There's no way in hell that he's getting away from me, she thought coldly as she peeled off the gown that she was wearing, leaving her standing in a pair of tight-fitting black pants, black shoes with soft leather soles had been designed to emit as little sound as possible, and a long-sleeved black top. Around her waist she strapped her belt and holster, and around her calf she attached a sheath that had a small dagger in it - in case the fight got nasty and she wasn't able to reach for her gun.

With all of that accomplished, she reached for her pistol, screwing on the silencer, and then headed for the place where she had left Romelien.

It was going to end tonight. She was not going to let his crazy plans go any farther. The people of the world had no idea what sort of favor she was doing for them, but it was best if it remained that way. The less they knew, the better.

After all, what you don't know can't hurt you, she told herself.

She found Romelien still where she had left him, sitting with his back to her. She approached him slowly, raising her gun gradually in front of her. She intended to use the tranquilizer dart, since she just needed him to be asleep before she trussed him up good and searched his person for the device. If it the device were not on him, then it would not be too much trouble to get the keys to his room, and search there.

But, before she could even get close enough to him, he turned around.

She swore in her mind. Shit, that was not supposed to happen, she thought. Her cover was blown; she had to do something, and quick.

"Who are you?" Romelien demanded as he got up from the chair, his hand reaching into the front of his tuxedo. She took note of the gesture, and realized that she was right: the bastard did have the device on him after all!

"Who I am isn't important." She allowed her left hand to uncoil from around the handle of her gun, and held it out to him. "Give me the warp machine, and I'll let you go. Fair enough?"

He backed away from her, slowly, heading towards the wide bay windows that overlooked the sea. In the distance, she could see the dark outlines of the rocky Galapagos Islands. The cruise ship had stopped just offshore from the islands earlier that morning; to allow the guests a chance to view the islands whose unique wildlife had proven Darwin's theory of evolution.

She followed him, keeping her gun trained on the spot just between his eyes. "Come on Romelien, just give it up," she said quietly, as if talking to a jumpy, unbroken stallion. "You've got nowhere to run."

His expression changed then. Gone was the confident, self-assured doctor - in his place stood a nervous, panicky man, caught in a trap with nowhere else to go. She could tell what he was thinking as easily as she could see the sweat collecting on his upper lip: either he handed her the device, or fight her, which was not a smart thing to do, considering that she was armed, and he wasn't.

But then, he did something totally unexpected. He gave her a malicious smile, pulled the device out of his coat, and jumped out the window, breaking the glass with his shoulder.

"Shit!" She holstered her gun, and jumped out as well, following him out. She knew that she wouldn't be hurt; there was nothing but the ocean outside her window, and that would cushion her fall - as well as Romelien's.

He had turned over on his back, so that he seemed to be lying down on air, and was facing her. He smiled at her wickedly, and then pulled out the device, his thumb resting against a button on the console that was larger than all the others on it.

Before she could even shriek for him to stop, his thumb jerked, and pressed the button.

It felt as if someone had socked her violently in her gut. A powerful wave of unseen energy rammed right into the spot below her ribcage, knocking out all the air from her lungs.

But before she could even think about getting oxygen into her system, another wave hit, and this time, it hit her head.

She was out cold before she hit the water.


Days on the Galapagos were hot, and nights were cold. With minimal vegetation growing on the rocky, barren islands, the only thing that regulated the temperature and made them bearable to live on was the sea. But sometimes, even the ocean wasn't enough to control the extremes of temperature on the islands.

Midshipman Peter Calamy huddled deeper into his coat, staring at the jagged lines of the rocks, set blacker than black against the night sky. While they were relatively safe here on the Galapagos and hence no watch was needed, old habits died hard, and he found himself tossing and turning and unable to relax long enough to get some much-needed sleep. So, instead of disturbing the other, soundly sleeping midshipmen, he got up, put on his coat to keep him warm, and headed outside the tent.

He looked up at the sky, and sighed happily. It was nice to look at the stars just for what they were. A thin silver sliver of a moon hung in one corner of the starry dome, and though it provided minimal light, he was still glad for its presence. It was a quiet night, and, dare he say it, a beautiful one.

He was glad that the Captain had decided to take a week off from chasing the Acheron. Though Calamy knew it was out of consideration for Dr. Maturin's injury and not really concern for the rest of the crew, everyone welcomed the break, nevertheless. It gave them time to take their minds off the pursuit of the Frenchie, as well as time to eat decent meals and drink proper water. Those were small things, true, but they meant a lot, especially to men who had been out at sea for more than a month already.

So much had happened since the Surprise had sailed out of Portsmouth and into the far horizon, heading towards the South American coast under orders from the Admiralty. They were to chase a French privateer named the Acheron, which had been preying on the English whaling fleet for quite some time already. Because of that, Captain Jack "Lucky Jack" Aubrey and his crew had gotten on the Surprise and sailed off in hot pursuit.

But Calamy had not expected that the journey would turn out the way it had so far. The Acheron turned out to be a more formidable foe than even Captain Aubrey had expected. Their first encounter with the Frenchie had been disastrous, and they had been forced to turn tail and hide in thick fog banks. The second time, they had been forced to run off immediately, and it was only thanks to a brilliant strategy of Captain Aubrey's that they had managed to make it out unscathed. And the third time, the fight should have been in their favor, but then they had been forced to round Cape Horn, and that ended up in disaster as well - they had their mizzen and one of their crewmen in the storm they had encountered going around the Horn.

After that, it seemed disaster simply kept piling up. It was easy to replace the mast, but it was far harder to replace Warley. Calamy knew that the young man was popular amongst the men, and losing him had been hard on them. He feared somewhat that there was going to be a mutiny on the Surprise, but apparently they only blamed one person: Calamy's fellow midshipman, Hollom. Apparently, the men thought Hollom a "Jonah," and called him thus. Unable to take the pressure and, perhaps, driven partially insane by the heat during the doldrums they had struck as they were pursuing the Acheron, Hollom committed suicide by jumping into the sea with a cannonball in his hands to weigh him down.

And now the Doctor had been shot - accidentally, of course - and now they were back where they had initially planned to go after going around the Horn.

And, indeed, while Calamy was saddened by the turn of events that had led them here, he was also a little glad that things had turned out the way they did. It gave him time to rest, and, in a way, to prove his worth in the eyes of the Captain. A promotion could not be that far off, and his eyes glowed with the possibility.

Just then, a bright flash of light out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. His thoughts suddenly spun. Was it cannon fire? Had the Acheron somehow found out where they were and were suddenly attacking them?

He immediately snapped his head towards the source, but just as he turned to look, it was gone. He quickly got to his feet, and waited for the deep, booming sound that usually accompanied the firing of heavy artillery, but there was no sound. He relaxed slowly, puzzled. If it was not a cannon, then what was it? Lightning, perhaps? Lightning had been known to occur, even without any thunder.

He smiled to himself as he shook his head. I really must get some rest, he thought. He was probably starting to go crazy, starting to see things that weren't really there. He must have been really tired. With that thought in mind, he headed back to the tent, intent on getting some proper rest.


(1) The pistol was inspired by the one I saw in the movie xXx, the one Vin Diesel's character used.