The Miracle of the Ellington
"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." Helen Keller
Chapter 2: A Fish Out of Water
Nelson briefly considered fighting for his freedom before recognizing the uselessness of such an attempt. The German had tied his hands snugly, although not cruelly, but that was the least part of his captivity. He was alone with these strange men on the open sea, with nowhere to escape to and no idea what had happened to the lifeboat. He certainly would have known if McMann were also a prisoner. He wouldn't be the docile captive Nelson was proving to be.
He knew it was his duty to resist but his body was betraying him, racked by a shameful trembling he couldn't control. He'd hoped he'd be strong if he ever fell into enemy hands and be the man his father required him to be. He'd always been able to bend his body to his will, but for the first time in his young life he'd simply had enough.
The man who carried him—the one the German had called "captain" when they thought he was unconscious—was more considerate than he'd expected. So far at least, the man was treating him better than the survivors of the Ellington had treated the three German prisoners in the lifeboat. Still, Nelson reminded himself not to be tricked by overtures of friendship or caught by surprise if the man's attitude changed abruptly.
Nelson's exhausted, restless mind doggedly pursued an answer to the question that plagued him: Who were these people? They could be Germans and the massive submarine he'd glimpsed a frightening, new U-boat design. The blindfold and his bound wrists supported that theory and, if that was the case, it was imperative he escape with any intelligence he could gather. On the other hand, the captain did sound like an American. There was always the possibility the submarine was a secret Allied weapon and the German he'd seen was a defector, one of many scientists who'd fled the Third Reich. Nelson placed the odds at 50/50 either way, but without knowing for sure, it was necessary to proceed assuming the worst. The captain could be a German who spoke excellent English or an American traitor. That would explain why his uniform wasn't quite correct: it was a reasonable copy, but the devil was in the details and Nelson spotted several that weren't exactly right.
He flinched as other hands grasped him, lifting him up into the conning tower, then passing him down into the submarine. "Here, I'll take him again," he heard the captain say quietly. "You two," he addressed men Nelson couldn't see, "come with me."
"What's going on, Skipper? Why'd you tie up the kid? Any sign yet of the admiral?"
Nelson wondered at the casual mode of address and even more at the captain's sudden, angry reply. It appeared the man had another side. "Be quiet!" he snapped. "I don't want to hear any more from you until you've been briefed. You're not to address me, or each other, by name. You're not to speak to this officer. The less you say, the better. Got it?"
"Aye, sir," the men replied in perplexed tones, falling in behind the captain.
Nelson counted the captain's paces and kept track of the turns he made through the passageways—useful knowledge in case he had the opportunity to break free. After a few moments they entered an area with brighter lights and he heard a startled exclamation, "Lee! What in the world?"
The arms around him tightened, a physical manifestation of the captain's frustration. "No names," he growled. "Doc, I need to talk with you and," he must have looked at the other men, "you also." The captain lowered Nelson onto a table and efficiently strapped him down before he could even try to resist.
"Have you lost your mind?" the doctor asked. Nelson drew some comfort from the horrified question. He'd learned two valuable things already: Whoever these men were, they weren't afraid of their captain and they weren't used to seeing helpless prisoners being manhandled. He tried to relax while they conferred in hushed tones, reassured to hear the humanity in the low voices around him.
X X X
Crane quickly explained the situation to Jamie, Ski, and Patterson, who stared at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "What are you going to do, Skipper?" Patterson asked.
"I don't know." Lee ran a hand over his eyes. "I need more time to consider options."
"Well," said Jamie, "whatever you decide, my duty's clear: the first thing is to take care of him as I would any man dragged out of the sea and dropped on my doorstep."
"You should leave the blindfold on, sir," Kowalski said thoughtfully. "If there's a way to send him back to his time, it might be trouble if he's seen us."
Crane looked uncomfortable. "I know, but the only way to keep the blindfold on is to also keep him tied or he'll just remove it himself. Look at him! He's soaking wet, scared, wounded, and who knows what else. I can't keep him restrained indefinitely." His face fell into grim, determined lines. "Doc's right. Whether or not the future's compromised by his presence here, there's no excuse for us to behave like barbarians."
He ordered Pat and Ski to take up positions on either side of the door then approached Nelson again, relieved to see the young man was finally calming down and resting quietly. He flinched when Crane touched him, but gave no other sign of distress. Carefully, Lee removed the blindfold from his eyes. As Harry blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the brightness of sickbay, Lee was stuck again by Nelson's youth. He'd only seen a couple of photos of the admiral from his war years.
"Better?" he asked, trying to smile and failing miserably.
Harry nodded guardedly and met his gaze squarely, his chin raised slightly in challenge. Lee recognized the familiar, assessing expression. The young man was staking out his ground, refusing to let Crane intimidate him. Lee relaxed, relieved to know this stranger really was Harry, their Harry, and he wasn't as damaged in body or spirit as it had first appeared.
"Let's get this off, too," he said, setting to work on Nelson's bound wrists.
"The burns extend up his arm," Jamie said reproachfully. "You should have checked before you tied him." He gently examined Nelson's hands. "These are mostly first-degree," he said, "although there are some second-degree burns on your palms, where the skin is blistered. How did this happen?"
Nelson raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply.
"No questions," Crane murmured. "He's not authorized to give any information beyond name, rank, and serial number."
They all turned towards the door as Chip burst in. "I heard…"
"Stop!" Crane's tone was commanding. "Think carefully."
"Yes." Morton's eyes were glued to Nelson's face. "Yes, of course. I see."
Watching the tall, blond man stare at him in wonder, Harry was starting to feel that they all understood something he didn't. There seemed to be so many Americans on the submarine, he was starting to reassess his earlier theory about his captors. In spite of the presence of the German, it seemed he'd stumbled upon a secret Allied weapon after all.
"We should get him out of those wet clothes," Jamie said.
Lee didn't miss the nervous flicker in Nelson's eyes. "It can wait. Give him two or three blankets to wrap up in until he feels strong enough to change by himself." He began unbuckling the restraints. "Ensign," he said with what Nelson thought was an odd inflection, "it's necessary to confine you to sickbay at the present time. Please don't attempt to leave, or these men," he gestured to Ski and Pat, "will have to prevent you." He laid a gentle hand on Nelson's shoulder. "Don't worry. As I've said before, you're in no danger. Just rest."
"You must be very thirsty," Jamie said, holding a glass of water out to him. "Please drink this."
Nelson looked at the glass suspiciously and made no move to accept it.
"Drink it," Crane commanded gruffly. "If we wanted to drug you, we could have done so at any time." He waited until Harry took a small sip, then turned and left, desperately needing time to think and a respite from the accusing gaze that pierced his heart and shook his resolve to stand firm.
When the door of the cabin shut behind him, Lee slumped against the side of the passageway, head tilted back and eyes closed. "Captain?" Schaffner's query was low and urgent.
"Have you been waiting out here?" Crane asked wearily.
"I didn't think Harry would appreciate my presence."
"Probably not."
"Captain, I must speak with you. It's very important." Schaffner's dark eyes were troubled.
"What is it?"
"I have to tell you: I didn't know it was Harry when I pulled that young man out of the water."
Crane frowned. "I thought you said you recognized him."
"So I did. More than thirty years have passed, but I have never forgotten that American ensign's face."
Lee looked at him sharply. "I'm not following you."
"Do you remember when I said I had experienced the anomaly in these waters before and a man drowned?" Crane nodded cautiously. "I don't speak of it often, but I served in the Kriegsmarine during the war. In July 1944, your destroyer Ellington engaged the U-boat I served on in this very place. Our torpedoes struck the Ellington, but not before she had time to drop depth charges." He shrugged. "It was the worst day of my life, captain. Very few of us survived. My boat went to the bottom and the Ellington was an inferno. I felt sure I would die in the water, but the American ensign—Harry—took me and a handful of others into a lifeboat. The men from the Ellington were very angry. I think they would have thrown us to the sharks if Harry hadn't forbidden it."
"This is incredible," Crane whispered.
"Yes," Schaffner agreed. "I'm a man of science, captain. I don't believe in coincidences. I don't know what to make of this, either, but it troubles me."
"What happened next?" Lee grasped the German's arms urgently. "Tell me everything you remember. No detail is unimportant."
"It was so long ago. For years I've tried not to think of it…"
"I need you to think about it now!"
"Yes." Schaffner closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. "My father was a doctor. An officer from the Ellington was badly wounded. I thought perhaps if I helped, the Americans would let me live." He smiled wanly. "Not very heroic or altruistic, I admit, but I was so young. I didn't want to die. The ensign let me give first aid, but that wasn't enough to appease them. They wanted to know if there were more U-boats in the area. I didn't know and wouldn't have told them if I did—you understand, captain?"
Lee nodded.
"I thought they would surely kill me then, but Harry—it is so hard to think of him as Harry!—stopped them again. Then we saw two American sailors in the water. I think one was dead, but the other was trying to reach us. As we approached him, the ocean suddenly came alive, churning and bubbling. Harry was thrown overboard. He pulled the sailor to safety but disappeared before they could get him back in the boat. I always assumed he drowned."
"Instead," Crane said quietly, "it appears the anomaly catapulted him more than thirty years into the future."
"It seems so." They were silent for several moments, then Schaffner said, "That was the end of the war for me. I was sent to a prisoner of war camp in Louisiana where I started to learn English. After the war I went home for a while, then returned to the United States to study. When I met Harry in Stockholm ten years ago, it never occurred to me that he was the American ensign who had saved my life. I only knew I liked him right away and wanted to work with him. His ideas were daring, but the science backing them up was always very solid."
"It sounds like he didn't recognize you, either."
"No, I'm sure he didn't, and we never spoke of the war. It would have been awkward, you understand."
"Yes." Lee saw the admiration in Schaffner's eyes and suddenly felt the absence of the admiral sharply, like a stab wound. He would give his life for Ensign Nelson, but it was the admiral he loved. "I have to get him back," he whispered, "but I don't know what to do."
"It's not your fault," Schaffner said sympathetically. "No one does."
"That's not true." Crane's eyes widened at the sudden realization. "That's not quite true. There's one person who may know exactly what to do!" He set off down the passageway at a brisk pace.
"Captain," Schaffner called, "where are you going?"
"To Harry's cabin! If there's any place I can find answers to my questions, it's there!"
