CHAPTER 6
Wow, what an absence, eh? CeeCee WOULD go off on holiday at the most crucial moment in our game of the Weakest Link, wouldn't she? Er, I mean. Sorry it's been two weeks since we updated, but here's a few chapters ending with a lovely cliffhanger to keep your pants moist and our copyright lawsuit pending. I'm sure you all feel quite medicated now. BTW, thanks for all the reviews and we just can't wait for your financial contributions to begin arriving by post.
As bored students filed into the lecture theatre, Doctor Doppler ran again and again over his memorised notes on the processes of active galactic nuclei. The usual nervous anticipation he normally felt before hosting a lesson was absent somehow; he just wasn't excited about science anymore. Instead, as he glanced up at the filling theatre, looking from one yawning face to another, Doppler found himself imagining what else he could possibly be doing.
His voyage on the Legacy had spoiled him: he had found the adventure he had been searching for, and now life was... well... boring! Except, he had noticed, when the captain was around. Doppler shook his head, forcing himself back to reality. Lectures weren't daring or adventurous, but they were solid and paid well. He was back in the real world now. A buzzer sounded to mark the start of class and every face seemed to turn and stare at Doppler expectantly. Some of the nervousness coming back to him, the doctor cleared his throat and gave a sheepish smile to the room.
"Well, ah, if we're all here then we'll, ah, just start then."
He turned to project his name on the wall when the sound of pounding boots echoed throughout the corridor outside. Doppler looked up in time to see Jim practically fall through the doorway, gasping for air. "Sorry I'm la-" the boy began, stopping with an expression of what was almost fear when he caught sight of Doppler. He glanced at the students behind him, then leaned forward and, lowering his voice, asked, "Uh, Mom didn't send you, did she?" Jim had an awful feeling that his mother could just tell when he was doing poorly in school, whether she saw him or not.
Doppler, beaming at the sight of a familiar face, chuckled quietly. Unfortunately, that was the only thing he did quietly. "No, Jim!" he practically shouted. "But she said to send you her love."
Jim winced, quickly looking to see if anyone had heard. Doppler, he realised, was wearing a clip-on microphone to allow the entire theatre to hear the lecture. From the sniggers in the back row, Jim assumed the speakers were working fine. Head bent down, Jim ran forward to take a seat before he was humilated any further.
"You just take a seat right by me, Jim," the doc grinned warmly. "We don't want you missing anything important, do we?" To Jim's horror, he winked. "In fact, I can lend you all my notes after the lecture, if you like. I have to give you a few care packages from your mother anyway."
Jim, open-mouthed, shook his head, trying to get him to stop before he went any further.
"She seems to think," Doppler laughed, "that she didn't pack enough underwear for you."
Jim buried his red face in his hands as the stadium behind him erupted into laughter. Doppler looked up, frowning as the entire student body collapsed into hysterics at Jim's expense. "Oh, uh, I, um... the microphone..." He gave Jim a guilty smile and fumbled on with the lecture, leaving Jim to slide down in his seat and search for the black hole which, were there a God, should now appear under his feet. He was suddenly very grateful that Elizabeth wasn't in his year.
After the doc's travesty of a lecture, Jim was the first to rush out of the room. Not only was he too humilated to stay behind, but he didn't want to miss the start of solar surfer try-outs. He had to know what he and his new board were up against. He had only finished it the night before, and hadn't had enough time to test it out properly. He had been planning on waking up early and taking it to the pitch before breakfast - unfortunately, he had slept in again and had missed breakfast altogether. Now he was missing lunch to go the try-outs. His stomach gave a rumble of complaint, but he knew it would be worth it to make the team. Hell, he would probably sit through another one of the doc's lectures if it meant getting on the team, no matter how often he brought up the subject of underpants.
The pitch was surprisingly empty when Jim got there - a trail of students stood uncomfortably, some huddled together by themselves and about six others with boards. Very professional, shiny looking boards. Thomas was in a heated argument with one of the board holders, and ignored Jim when he tried to catch his eye.
"All right, people!" One voice rose above the small chorus of the others, and a willowy older cadet waved his arms as he tried to look as official as possible. "Line up guys, if you're gonna try. Hey, you with the pigtail!"
Jim frowned, but wiped it off his face quickly as he remembered who it was that had addressed him.
"You're up first, Hairdo."
Jim gritted his teeth, arching an eyebrow with technique that would have impressed Captain Amelia. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Surf." The prefect gestured towards the pitch. "Do something good."
The instruction was plain, and the crowd had settled expectantly. Jim dropped his patchwork board on the turf, and stepped shakily on to it. He was less nervous when he had crept back to the Legacy on Treasure Planet. Thankfully, it started and with a whoop of released frustration Jim sped off along the pitch.
He could hear some calls below him about the condition of his board. It probably looked as if it had been made from refuged garbage (and it had) to the kids rich enough to keep up with the latest designer models. He tried to force it all out of his head though, rising as high as he could so he wouldn't be able to hear it. The wind rushed through his hair and slapped his face awake, the familiar feeling bringing a large smile to his face. He was in his element and he knew it. So far, he had driven a simple lap of the pitch, quickly, but nothing to the kids below. But had gained enough speed to let him pull off his next trick with practiced professionalism: he used his body weight to flop backwards over the board, dropping the sail and bringing the body over his head before beginning a helicopter spin to the ground. It was a common trick amongst the professional sportsmen, but few kids could pull it off well. It was somthing that Jim had been teaching himself for a while, and he had just been getting good at it before he left for Treasure Planet. He could hear whoops and cries below him, and he could only imagine how cool he must have looked right then. Grinning, he let himself drop dangerously low. He wasn't going to pull out of this until the last second - that would impress them.
The whoops were louder now, and louder. Jim judged the distance left as best as he could upside-down and began timing his finishing swoop slowly. His head just metres from the ground, he moved his feet to flip over again. And nothing happened. With a gasp, Jim realised he was dropping to the ground faster than he had intended, and the board, it seemed, was running low. With what was nearly a scream, Jim kicked the board back to life, releasing the solar sail just in time and pulling himself right way up clumsily, in a panic. The action was too slow; the board jammed itself in the soil when kicked back under his feet, stopping suddenly and bucking him to the ground. Sliding with an 'oomph' across the pitch, he didn't want to imagine how far from cool he was looking now. He looked up just in time to see Victoria collapse in fits of laughter in Thomas's arms.
"Very good, Hairdo," the prefect sneered. "You're the reason we don't let first-years try out anymore."
Jim could feel himself blushing violently as he pryed the useless board out of the dirt, and rushed off the pitch to a cry of, "Next! Someone who can get out of a simple trick, please?"
Jim burst into the kitchen, cursing a blue streak as he waved his arms vehemently at Mr. Snuff. Behind him he dragged a sparking energy cylinder feebly clinging to the rusty board. There was a good amount of soil spreading about the place, but hygiene rules don't translate well into Flatulan, and Mr. Snuff was eating most of the mess so quickly anyway that it shouldn't really become a problem...
As he ranted, Jim found himself pacing around the kitchen. Several times he made large hand-gestures that set off an orchestra of pan clanking or cutlery falling, while Mr. Snuff patiently picked everything up and put it all back in the wrong places. The third time he passed the table, Jim noticed the headline on the newspaper discarded in several pieces all over it. Apparently Mr. Snuff had been gutting something over it. Jim pretended not to notice the intestine stains as he read "SILVER GOES FOR THE GOLD IN THE HOLD - story by Lars Reagle".
"Although it has been almost a year since the last reported criminal activity of the legendary cutthroat Long John Silver and his band of pirates, it seems they have come out of retirement. The merchant ship Titan was viciously attacked by a small vessel made specifically for the dash-and-grab style of combat and thievery. The smaller ship wove between the masts, destroying each sail to keep the victims from escaping. This method was Long John Silver's trademark start to a raid, and is said to be based upon the ways of the notorious Nathanial Flint. Witness reports indicate that a large man bearing cyborg implants was at the head of the raid, calling orders from the helm of the helpless ship. The passengers were loaded into the longboat bay after each boat had been jettisoned, and left for dead.
They were discovered days later by a tourist bus, lost on its route. If chance had not favoured those passengers, would we be examining their remains today? How many more will suffer at the hands of monsters?
This time, all that was lost was thousands of drubloons' worth of solar crystals. Next time, it could be any one of us.
If you have any information regarding the apprehension of Long John Silver, or of his whereabouts, we urge you to contact your local authorities."
Jim could hardly believe his eyes. Silver had left people for dead? Silver had given up all that treasure to save him, there was no way he would... or would he? Jim hated himself for being doubtful. He glanced up at Mr. Snuff, who shrugged as if he hadn't read the article.
"Do you believe this?" Jim asked, almost accusingly.
The chef shrugged again, waving a tentacle as he tried to explain to Jim in colourful tones. Jim could guess what he was saying, though. That Silver had done all that before, and he could again with his connections. Jim didn't think that he would though, whether he could or not. That was what was important. Silver could have left Jim to die, but he wouldn't - and hadn't. A frown of fierce determination crossed his face, and he decided what he would do. He was failing almost everything, and the students hated him already. No one would miss him if he only left for a weekend. Mr. Snuff had the keys, and he'd be back before they even knew he was missing. He was going to go and find Silver, and prove to himself and everybody else that his best friend had an alibi for the time when the attack on the Titan took place.
"Hey, Snuff," Jim grinned. "Know where they keep the longboats?"
