Chapter 3
The Lost Road is Found
"That'll do it," Mark called. "Start 'im up again."
The ferry's cantankerous engine choked once and lay silent, like a wounded beast, Mark thought dryly. He eyed it with equal parts suspicion and wariness.
"OK, so what's your problem now, Nick?" Mark grumbled at the engine. The engine just sat, practically exuding innocence.
"That'll do it, huh?" Jerry's voice intruded. "Mark, the engine's just dead. Let's take her in and get the company to replace it. It's older than we are, anyway- about time for it to die!"
"No, I can fix him," Mark replied absently. Suddenly he smacked himself in the head. Where was his current tester? He hooked it up, and indeed, there was a short circuit somewhere in the engine. Nick was too old to have more than half a dozen places he could have a short circuit, and Mark had it patched in a minute.
"OK, I found it," he called sheepishly. "I didn't think to check for a short circuit . . ." Jerry didn't reply, just gunned the engine again. To Mark's satisfaction, Nick happily started up.
"He's all ready!"
"Why," Jerry asked, for the hundredth exasperated time, "when all other ships in the world, inhistory, from the Greeks to the Enterprise, have been female, why do you call ours a 'he'?"
"It's not the whole boat, I like her!" Mark protested. "It's just the engine- cause he's too much trouble!"
"I repeat: why do you call it a he? Especially if you say it's too much trouble . . ." Mark rolled his eyes at the grin in Jerry's voice.
"Whatever. Let's take her on over to the dock, it's time for the next load."
Jerry engaged the engine, the screw lowered into the water and Ferry No. 9 began making her way to the dock.
Half an hour later, Nick was still happily clattering away, and Mark was lying on the back edge of the ferry with his hat over his eyes. The Caribbean was pretty, but having a job there took away most of the interest- and the sun was especially bright today. It was comfortably warm, though, and Mark slipped off into sleep.
He awoke immediately when Nick hiccoughed sharply, lurching the ferry forward. Mark really did slip off, pitching right off the back of the ferry. He surfaced with an embarrassed splutter and struck out for the ladder at the back of the ferry. She seemed to be going faster than usual, however, and what would usually have been easy became impossible. Mark was about to call for help when he noticed something else strange about the ferry.
It was rising out of the water.
Mark stopped moving. It wasn't something he could watch and see, it was too slow for that. But the high water mark was already 2 inches out of the water, and Mark didn't relish the idea of getting onto an elevating boat. Instead, he struck out for a nearby island, only to notice that it was completely unfamiliar; Jerry had apparently taken a wrong bearing somewhere. The island was only about 2 miles distant, whatever island it was, and Mark was a good steady swimmer, if not too fast.
He cast one glance back at the ferry to see that it was now really speeding up. There was a fine bow wave, and it was now nearly as far away as the island was. Mark had always been a believer in the Bermuda Triangle, and he had no doubt that Jerry had strayed into it. The islands around here were mostly sand, and he wasn't worried about the ferry smashing into a rock and sinking, but they would probably be looking for a new job once this was over.
Then he saw someone jump over the side. He frowned; they must be more worried than he. The lifeboat was next, although it nearly capsized- No. 9 was really cruising now. Another person jumped, carrying a large suitcase. Another. No more people jumped, although the ferry continued its mad dash into the distance.
Mark turned and set a new course for the lifeboat, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Realizing quickly that it could not be made sense of, and the Triangle was known for all kinds of unique disturbances, he focused on getting to the lifeboat.
One of the lone swimmers had reached it and was now standing in the middle, giving orders. After a minute or so fruitlessly pulling on the starter cord, the figure abandoned the motor and passed out the oars. The other two swimmers reached the boat and were hauled in, then the standing passenger began ordering the other occupants again. Now Mark was close enough to distinguish Jerry's voice.
"No! I promise, Fielding, put your back to the way we're going and you'll be able to use your strength better! Ma'am, don't worry about that, you're safe and that's far more impor- stop that, everyone's in this together, we're all working together, none of us is going to shirk!" The other occupants' voices rose in complaint, but were quickly crushed by Jerry's orders. Mark almost grinned. Jerry had only been in the Army a few years, before the Navy and then the ferry, but he would never lose that commanding tone. It certainly came in handy now- "None of that! Row, everyone row, and at the same time! The better you obey, the sooner we'll be back to civilization!"
Contrary to all laws of probability, the lifeboat actually began moving in a single coherent direction: vaguely towards Mark. The oars were finally dipping in something like cadence, and Jerry stopped haranguing long enough to throw the preserver the remaining 20 feet to Mark.
"Get in," Jerry barked when Mark bumped up against the side. "And grab Miss Yumi-whatever's oar, it's too much trouble for her."
Mark complied wordlessly- now was not the time for friendly banter. Now was the time to respect Jerry's authority and get the job done. "Now, right side, stow your oars. That means stop rowing! No, you're on the left side, you row. See that island? Don't stop rowing to look! If you can't look without stopping rowing, don't look! We're going to that island. The lifeboat has its own radio, we're just going to the island to wait until we can get picked up. Right side, start rowing again! We're now pointing to the island, so everyone rows. Pull together! Better not to row at all than foul the oar ahead of you." Jerry continued his orders, and Mark smiled to himself.
The other occupants had stopped protesting and were actually trying to obey, finally cowed by Jerry. He was finally satisfied enough to pause his litany and crouch beside Mark for a moment.
"Have you checked the radio recently? Does it work?" Mark shrugged.
"Haven't checked it since I got in, you put me right on the oar. I haven't checked it recently, either, but it's military-grade- barring anything drastic, there's no reason why it shouldn't work." Jerry nodded brusquely, but Mark knew him well enough to see the doubt and worry in his face. Something beyond even the ferry's peculiar behavior was troubling him, and Mark bit his tongue when he was about to ask: the thing Jerry needed least right now was someone else questioning him. Mark bent to his oar.
---
"Well?" Jerry's voice was near panic now. They had reached the island quickly and set up something like camp. Then he and Mark had taken the radio off away from the others, to try and connect to the outside world and to have a private conversation. Mark concentrated one last time, fiddling with the knobs, then shook his head.
"There's nothing wrong with the radio," he said quietly. "We're in a dead spot, I'm sure of it- remember how you said the radar blinked out? The Triangle has spots big enough to swallow the QE2. If we had a satellite phone, the spot wouldn't matter. But the radio's useless, as would be any cell phones- even if there was coverage out here, which I doubt."
Jerry swore- again. His inner soldier was getting more and more dominant.
Mark shrugged. "It's not like we're lost in the Pacific. The compass still works, and the spot has to have boundaries somewhere."
Jerry nodded. "So we could send out a couple of people in the boat, heading as far as they could in whatever direction, taking the radio and trying to use it until they got a signal." Mark nodded back. Jerry was still very disturbed, though, and after a moment he spoke again.
"I really have no idea where we are. The radar was acting up from the start, I think; long before it went out entirely, it was misrepresenting our position. Then, about the time I realized that, the steering quit working and the radar just stopped."
They sat silent for a few minutes. Jerry's eyes had turned back to the radio, looking right through it, when Mark spoke again. "What will you tell the troops?" After a moment, the question registered, and Jerry's eyes refocused.
"Well," he started slowly, "that you and one of them will go out next morning. I think the best choice would be either Crichker or Fielding. Crichker's English isn't the greatest, but he's a good, fast worker and obeys better than the others. Fielding is a good worker, too, and knows about as much as you, I think, but you've already seen the respect he has for authority."
Mark snorted, eyes narrowing. "Little twit. It's his kind that's responsible for America's bad international relations. I'll take Crichker." Jerry nodded, but didn't speak again. "What else? How much will you tell them?"
"I really don't know," Jerry said softly. "If I knew what happened out there, I would tell them. What did happen?" Jerry looked up now, and Mark was shocked to see the almost hunted look in Jerry's eyes. "What happened?"
They had thus far avoided the subject of the ferry's behavior- it was too unreal to discuss. Now Mark took his turn staring off the island into the darkness around, staring at- what? What hadhappened?
"I think we need to discuss this all together," he said finally, nodding to the small fire where the rest of the passengers were. Fielding himself was declaiming, telling everyone who couldn't help but listen about toasting the C-rations in the fire, and Jerry sneered.
"Arrogant snot. Well, you're right. We need to talk it over together." He got up from his kneel with a small groan and walked toward the fire. After a thoughtful moment, Mark followed.
"But how they not think us insane?" Crichker was demanding. He, LeBerger, and Fielding were still standing around the fire. "Ferry flying, goes very fast, sounds usual?" His English only got worse when he was agitated, apparently.
"Mais, but, we all saw the same thing," LeBerger replied smoothly. "If we all agree, how can they say we are all insane? The Triangle has a long strange history, but never before has a single event had 15 witnesses- if I remember correctly."
Fielding quickly responded. "Well, yeah, that's true. But Crichker's right too, this is too weird for us to not take some special measures. I say we need to be sure we all tell the exact same story when we're picked up. Let's compare notes." He stopped when Jerry walked up to the fire. "What?"
"What, captain." Jerry spoke evenly, but with an edge of authority. "I am- was- the captain of the ferry, and I am also the only one here with military experience. Someone had to take control, and I am that one. Therefore, everyone will continue to take orders from me, and show respect."
"Whatever," Fielding replied casually. "So cap'n, whaddya say? My idea meet with approval?"
"Yes, your idea meets with approval," Jerry stated, looking into Fielding's insolent eyes. "And I am serious. You will learn respect, and you will obey me. It's the only way we're going to get off this island.
"Now, first we're going to erect the best shelter we can. Miss Yumi-whatever has sufficient clothing for everyone to get something like a bedroll, and I think she has enough left over to make a small tent between the trees. So that should be enough for all of us.
"Our engineer-" a jerk of the head at Mark, now standing by the fire "-has determined that the radio is operational. However, we are currently in a dead spot, meaning the radio won't work. Tomorrow morning, Mark and Crichker will take the radio, compass, and food for two days in the boat. Mark thinks he can probably repair the motor, so they should be able to go far enough to get outside the edge of the dead spot. If they don't succeed before midnight, they'll head back, and we'll repeat in another direction.
"Our food should last for over a month, so no-one needs to worry about starving before a boat comes to pick us up. You're right, Fielding- when they do pick us up, we'll have to tell what happened. And we will need to tell them the same story. Call everyone else over, we're going to discuss that now."
The three men nodded, with varying degrees of respect, and went to bring the others. A few had already fallen asleep, and had to be awakened, but in less than 10 minutes everyone was assembled and Jerry began.
"Let me start by apologizing. As captain, I was responsible for the ship and all those on board. Although no-one is missing, we are all safely here, and the ferry disappeared in an unnatural way, the first problem lay in straying off course. That was my doing, and my responsibility. I lost the ferry." He drew a faltering breath, and Mark realized why he was so shaken- not because of what the ferry did, but because he, the captain, had lost his ship.
"I know that the company will probably fire me. But I would like to be sure that we all tell the same story. I don't need a reputation for making up tall tales to explain my errors, I'll have enough trouble as it is. So let's start by talking about what happened first.
"When we left the dock, the radar was giving some strange output, but I thought it got over it. Instead, I now think it just went close to normal- close enough for me not to detect the error, but not quite right. Due to that, I went off-course, I don't know how far. I didn't realize the radar was still not working until I saw the island we're standing on now: I had never seen it before, and knew the radar was not showing the right co-ordinates. It was just then that the radar blinked out entirely, when we entered the dead spot. I thought, and still think, that we were erring to the East, and so I can give any searching boats an idea of where we are, but as I said, I am not sure.
"That was also the moment I lost control of the vessel. I could feel it when I tried to turn the ferry back to the West- it wouldn't respond. We were caught up in something stronger than the engine, some current, and we were beginning to speed up. Most likely, that's when it began rising out of the water. The rest you know- abandoning ship and reaching the island. Does anyone have anything to add or dispute?"
No-one replied. Fielding looked like he wanted to put in something, but couldn't think of anything to say. Mark watched for a minute, until the silence grew slightly uncomfortable, then asked his question.
"Jer- Captain, what do you think the ferry was doing? You told us the facts, but what do they mean?" Jerry looked back.
"They mean nothing to me. All we can do is tell the same story, but that won't be for a while yet. Let's get the tent set up, and then Mark and Crichker can get ready for tomorrow."