Chapter Three: Awakening and Awareness

She drifted in and out of consciousness, the world constantly remaining a swimming haze all around her. Faces drifted in and out of her line of sight, like fishes darting out of the way and moving back in when they thought she was not looking. Scenery formed and dissolved as though in a dream - or a drug-induced hallucination.

She remembered the sensation of being lifted up, and the gentle swaying of something like a hammock. Moments later, she found herself lying in a tent, and felt a dull sensation against the soles of her feet as her shoes were taken off. She tried to protest, but it seemed as if she wasn't getting herself heard, so she just ignored it and closed her eyes.

She floated in unconsciousness for a long while, and when she came to she still felt a heavy shroud of sluggishness across her brain. She noticed someone sitting on something next to her - a man who looked like he was in his late thirties or early forties. He had a pair of wire-rim glasses perched on his nose as he turned the pages of a book. She assumed that he was the doctor, so she allowed herself to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She was slow in waking up. They must have me dosed up pretty good with morphine, she thought with a small smile as she rolled over onto her side, surprised - and relieved - that there was no pain. She would have to thank the doctor when he came in to check up on her - before she had her talk with Alec, of course.

"Ah, you seem to be awake, my dear."

She blinked slightly at the accent. A Brit? She allowed herself to shrug mentally. He was probably one of Alec's friends, then.

And then, it was as if the pleasant haze on her mind was suddenly lifted off, and everything was revealed to her in stark reality. She suddenly felt the pain stabbing up her legs, and she hissed, remembering that her shoes had been cut to shreds as she had climbed up and down the sharp rocks of the Galapagos.

Moaning, she dropped back to the bed, squeezing her eyes shut. She sensed the man whom she assumed was the doctor leaning over her.

"My dear, are you alright?"

Only once I kick Alec where it hurts the most, she thought in between bolts of agony - it felt like stiletto daggers were being driven repeatedly into the soles of her feet. Though she knew that it was not Alec's fault that her mission had gone completely wrong, at the moment, she really didn't care. She was in pain, and in her opinion, it was entirely her brother's fault, because he sent her on this mission to begin with.

"Doctor," she gritted out between tightly clenched teeth, "could you go out, and bring my brother in here?"

The doctor seemed puzzled, if the tone in his voice was any indication. "Your...brother?"

"Yeah. He's a tall fellow, with reddish-blonde hair and green eyes. Could you bring the asshole in here, so I can give him a good, hard kick?" She paused, and groaned, remembering that she was in no condition to do any kicking at the moment.

Well then, there was only one solution to that: get someone else to do the kicking.

"Oh, and while you're at it, could you bring in his fiancée too? She's a petite girl, with black hair and dark eyes - hard to miss: looks like a gypsy. Could you bring the two of them in here, so I can ask my future sister-in-law to kick my brother in the nuts?"

The doctor must have been a Brit, if the rather shocked silence that followed her words was any indication. The response to her request was polite. "I will see what I can do, my dear."

She heard footsteps padding out her immediate hearing range, and she heard the sound of canvas flapping as it was lifted and let go.

Her eyes shot open then, all pain forgotten. What was canvas doing in a hospital? She was in a hospital, wasn't she?

Wasn't she?

Stephen could not help but wince as an explosion of curses in the Italian language filtered through the thick canvas of the tent behind him. He cleared his throat, and straightened his stance, attempting to ignore the young woman's swearing and compose himself.

He looked up, and headed towards where Aubrey, the officers and midshipmen were standing. At a respectable distance were the other men - far enough so that they would not hear the conversation of their superiors so long as said superiors spoke quietly, but not nearly far enough so as not to hear the cursing in the tent, which had gone rapidly from Italian to another language that Stephen was entirely unfamiliar with – and for which he was rather grateful.

Jack Aubrey, captain of the Surprise, raised an eyebrow as he approached. "The young lady did not seem very happy to see you."

"No, though she did mention something about wanting to have her future sister-in-law kick her brother in the nuts. Those were her words, not mine."

Stephen felt a collective wince pass through all those gathered around him at his words, and he honestly could say that he sympathized with them.

Lt. William Mowett glanced over Stephen's shoulder at the tent, where the voice was still blustering on. "I truly cannot imagine how a young woman can say such things."

"Oh, believe me, it is quite possible," Stephen muttered, twitching as the language shifted back to Italian, a language he understood - much to his misery, or so he liked to believe.

Jack looked at him then, his expression showing that he would not tolerate any dilution of the truth. "Is she Italian?"

Stephen knew why his friend had asked that question: the allegiance of the Italians seemed to be firmly with Bonaparte, and if the young woman were indeed Italian, they would have to be more cautious around her. For all they knew, she was an informant for the French.

In the end, Stephen replied thusly: "It would appear that she is, though I would not be so hasty as to consider her a spy." He glanced up at Jack, his eyes carrying a warning. "I ask for discretion in this case, Jack. We are not certain whether she is really an agent for the French. There are many innocents caught up in this war."

Mr. Allen snorted. "Innocent? While I respect your desire to be humane to the lady, Doctor, I think that it would not be wise to give her too many liberties."

Stephen nodded. "And I agree with that, Mr. Allen. I only wish that she be treated properly, as she deserves to be treated. She is a lady, regardless of her nationality, and I want to ensure that she is treated accordingly." He glanced at Jack again. "If we treat her well, she might be more willing to cooperate with us than if we were to do otherwise."

Jack nodded thoughtfully, and moved as if to speak, but then, this was interrupted by a loud slapping sound as human flesh swatted canvas out of the way.

"Alright, what the hell is going on?"

Stephen turned around, and watched as the young woman marched out of the tent. She was wincing from the cuts on the soles of her feet, but whatever pain she was feeling must have only sharpened her tongue, because she continued to speak rapidly. She looked around, taking in their camp, and her eyes were blazing so ferociously that Stephen though that if her gaze lingered on anything, even for a moment, the unfortunate object or person would go up in flames.

She cuts a rather...unusual figure, Stephen thought, watching as the young woman stood there at the entrance of the tent, hands on her hips, feet planted firmly apart as she scanned the surrounding vicinity. She was rather small in comparison to some of the other ladies whom Stephen had met, and finer-boned than many of them. Her hair was long and dark, freed from the braid Stephen had undone when he first found her. The strands flowed straight down to the bottom of her shoulder blades, framing a face that could have, at first glance, been mistaken for a child's, if only because of the roundness of her eyes and the upturned, babyish angle of her nose.

However, her body made it known to all that she was not a child. Dressed as she was in a tightly fitted black shirt and trousers that clung impossibly to her body, the lush curves of a full-fledged woman were clearly seen by everyone who looked at her. And what was more; she did not seem at all ashamed of it. She was comfortable in her own skin, and did not seem at all bothered by the fact that she was currently surrounded by men who had not seen a woman in more than a month - unless one counted the Surprise's figurehead, of course, but Stephen preferred not to go there.

Her scathing gaze roamed across the faces of the crew, who seemed too stunned to comment on how she looked. "What the hell is this? The set of a period movie or something?"

When nobody responded, her eyes narrowed, and she groaned. "Oh great, this is just fucking great. Here I thought Alec would have come over to get me out by now, but no, the jackass leaves me here to rot while in the meantime, Pirates of the Caribbean: Part Four is being shot all around me." She raised her eyes skywards imploringly. "God, what in the world have I done to warrant this much torture, huh? I don't ask for much, right? Right now, could you just give me a working cell phone, or at least a decent boat, so I can get to the mainland, catch the next flight back to Italy, and find my idiot of a half-brother so I can have him singing like Farinelli the rest of his life?"

Stephen felt another shudder pass through him. This girl had a sharper tongue than all of the women he had ever met and encountered, and that was saying something. Judging from the casual, off-handed way she had mentioned the name of Farinelli, who was reputed to be one of the greatest opera singers ever, she was a well-educated and cultured woman. However, the way she was talking seemed to contradict that.

And there were some things she had mentioned in her tirade that did not seem to fit. For one, Stephen wondered what a "cell phone" was, or how one could "catch a flight" to Italy. Neither did he understand what she meant by "set of a period movie." There were so many things in what she had said that did not add up, that even he was almost inclined to think that the heatstroke had gone straight to her brain and left her deranged.

Another thing that did not seem to add up at all was her accent. One moment she was talking in Italian, and now, when she spoke English, it was in an American accent - a Yankee accent. Now there was really no love lost between the Yankees and the British, all things being considered, and now he was doubly cautious - as well as doubly curious - about this strange woman.

At length, the young woman marched up to where he and his companions stood apart, her eyes showing just how irritated she was - and how much pain her wounded feet were causing her. "Alright, I am sick and tired of this. Could someone please lend me their cell phone, or, at the very least, point out the nearest mode of transportation out of here, so I can get back home?"

An uneasy silence settled in as the officers looked at one another. How did they respond to these questions, considering that they did not know what it was she meant? The only mode of transportation that they had was the Surprise, but she talked as if she expected something else, something other than just a frigate.

Stephen decided to take action. Clearing his throat, he waited for the young woman to focus on him, before he said: "Unfortunately madam, we do not have...cell phones, as you called them...with us, and the only means of transportation that we have is that ship." Here, he pointed to where the Surprise floated in the bay. "Unfortunately, at the moment we cannot leave this island, since our business here has not yet been concluded."

"What do you mean, 'business'? You mean you aren't finished shooting your movie? And don't lie to me: everyone has cell phones these days, and considering that you folks are all the way out here, you would need something to keep in touch with the other people in the mainland." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Look mister, the only thing I'm asking for is a boat that will take me to Quito (1) so that I can arrange for a flight to Lima, and from there I'll find my way back to Europe. And I don't think that you can shoot a movie here without a supply link to the mainland. At the very least, someone lend me a phone so I can call my brother and have him arrange for someone to pick me up from here so I can leave you guys to do whatever it is you're doing.

"I'm sure you don't want me here to interfere with your 'business,' and I can assure you that I don't want to be here either. So, if you would be so kind, could you please, please, just put me on a boat so I can leave? Or at least lend me a phone?"

Stephen sighed; this was getting to be rather difficult. "I do not think you understand, madam," he said in a calm, controlled voice. "You are on the Galapagos Islands, standing before the captain and officers of the HMS Surprise."

"The HMS Surpise? But wasn't that ship retired in- Oh no." Recognition flickered in the woman's eyes. She looked at Jack, as if for confirmation of what Stephen had just told her. "You mean to tell me that that ship," she pointed towards the bay, "is the Surprise?" Her voice, when she asked that question, was suddenly slow and hesitant, tinged with disbelief.

Jack nodded. "Yes, madam. And I am the captain of the Surprise, Jack-"

"Aubrey," the woman finished, her voice hushed - a marked contrast from what she had been doing only moments ago. She slowly turned to look at the frigate, then at the men and officers, and finally, at Stephen.

Her eyes were wide, almost painfully so, in Stephen's opinion. It was a look he knew rather well: a look of pure, unadulterated terror. "Sir, I just need to ask: what year is it?"

"It is the year 1805, madam," Stephen replied, though he was rather puzzled by that question. What did that have to do with anything? And why did she seem to fear the answer so?

The woman's mouth fell open, a small, horrified gasp emerging from her parted lips. "Oh no…" She slowly sank to the ground, as if her legs no longer had the strength to support her, her eyes staring straight ahead.

Stephen knelt down immediately, concerned. "What is wrong, madam?"

The woman shook her head; her cheeks so pale all of a sudden, her skin cold and clammy to his touch. "No… No way... It was... So it was actually... But it was...and he..."

Stephen gripped her by the upper arms, shaking her gently to bring her back to her senses. "Madam, what is the matter? What is it about the year that frightens you so?"

She looked up at him then, her pupils so dilated that it felt to Stephen as if he was staring into two deep pits ringed with a small circle of dark brown. Trembling, she clutched her knees with her hands, the knuckles turning white with the force.

"I am screwed," she murmured to him, her voice soft, but quavering with a deep-seated dread that made even Stephen shiver. "I am so screwed."

(1) – Quito is the capital of Ecuador. According to the most recent map that I checked, the Galapagos Islands are Ecuadorian territory.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

Bean02 – Yes, Mercy is indeed having a very rough day. As you can see, she has met people – disastrous though it has turned out to be. Poor Stephen though…the man's ears must be burning now, given that he can understand all the swearing that Mercy has done in Italian.

Miss Flossy – Yes, I know that iguanas and tortoises are edible. However, it is also interesting to remember that nowadays, such exotic foodstuffs are illegal – a fact of which Mercy is quite aware of. However, I will speak no further of that, since it would mean giving away something I have lined up for the next chapter (or the fifth, I am still deciding on that point).

And yes, I know I did mention that I found Mr. D'Arcy very charming, and yes, I am aware that he coped very well with Olivia in Bean's To Wives and Sweethearts. However, whether or not Mercy falls into Pullings' "waiting arms" is something I have yet to decide upon.

Oh, and as for the recent events in Abbotsleigh Park, let me just say that I am very glad for how Admiral Mowett has pulled himself together. It is about time, and his children deserve that much, at least. Now then, I am still waiting for when Pullings finally ravishes Charlotte – shall we finally get to see that in the next chapter? I certainly hope so.

MusicBoxDancer – Yes, as you can see, Stephen has helped her, though he is also very much puzzled by what and who she is. Certainly Stephen has a large role to play in the coming chapters, since he is the only one with a truly scientifically inclined mind on the ship, and hence, the most qualified to understand how Mercy appeared. I hope that you enjoyed his scene in this chapter.

Belphegor – Thank you for saying that this story is shaping out perfectly.

As you have seen in this chapter, Mercy's first reaction is rather…painful. Of course, that could be because of the fact that her feet are cut and bleeding, but it is also because of the fact that she has been dropped into a situation she is completely unfamiliar with, her love and familiarity of history notwithstanding.

And yes, you are correct: Mercy is Venetian, though her last name, di Salmileri, is just a name I made up. No such family exists. If there is indeed one, well then, let us consider it an artistic coincidence, shall we?

I did some research on what you mentioned about Italy's standing during the Napoleonic Wars, and you are right. Napoleon conquered Venice, bringing an end to its "Golden Age." Afterwards, Venice was handed over to Austria and became a part of the Kingdom of Lombardy-Venetia when Napoleon signed the Treaty of Campo Formio on October 12, 1797. It was during the following year, on January 18, 1798, that the Austrians officially moved in to occupy La Serenissima. However, in 1805 Venice was taken out of Austrian control by the Treaty of Pressburg (which was signed on December 26, 1805), and was made a part of Napoleon's Kingdom of Italy, starting from 1805 until Napoleon's defeat in 1814.

The events of the movie are supposed to have taken place on April 1805 – that would mean that Venice was still in the hands of the Austrians. While there seems to have been a problem between Austria and France (the reason why the Treaty of Pressburg took place to begin with), I believe that as far as the British are concerned, Venice is Austrian property, and since Austria and France were allies, anyone from Venice would most likely be on Napoleon's side.

Noelle Pico – I have coughed it up! See? Lots of Maturin in there, and there will be more to come, most likely. And yes, Alec is to blame for everything...