Chapter 3: I Meet Doctor Doppler, and Am Disappointed

The boy Jim Hawkins was almost a shock to me. Having (for the small interval of time between Doppler's first letter and this morning) forgotten him entirely, his appearance was of sheer intrigue. But he came back to my mind as quickly as he'd left, and I made no fuss over him, much too eager to at last meet this odd fellow Doctor Doppler and launch upon our quest to Treasure Planet.

Mr. Arrow was on deck, managing the hands, while I was making a last note of the ship and her states, when Doctor Doppler and his ward made their way up the gangplank. I took immediate notice of the Doctor, and it is not a wondrous thing that I did so. He was awkwardly pieced together, clad in a copper-plated type of space suit. Complete with helmet, gloves, and a round base, he looked rather the imbecile in the suit, especially considering the suits were unnecessary in the Etherium.

I could hear Doppler clank up the gangway as I made my way back up to the crow's nest. I noted without perturbation that Mr. Arrow and his weather forecasts were correct, and that the breeze was indeed picking up a bit. The manta birds were soaring low over the Cresentia in the cloudless sky; it was by now mid-morning and only a small amount of the provisions had yet to be boarded. I had also spoken with our stout engineer, Meltdown, about that squeaky helm; he was at that very moment tending to it with some oil. By way of the breeze, I could nearly smell it; it was a distinct scent that compelled the senses in a bitter sort of manner. But what was even more compelling than that was the absurd sight of the Doctor.

I didn't take it into offense that Doppler mistook Mr. Arrow for me. Indeed, people have assumed that Mr. Arrow was the captain and not I often before. It never was an offense: it was merely corrected. Nevertheless, Doppler addressed Mr. Arrow as 'Captain', and inquired on the ship-and-shapeliness of the RLS Legacy. Mr. Arrow was a pleasant man in his response:

"Ship-shape it is, sir," I remember him replying. "But I'm not the captain."

Taking this as my cue to enter, I grasped a rope hanging quite close to me and lifted myself off the floor of the crow's nest. Swinging high over the deck, I made my way down by way of the rigging and spars that made themselves available. Within no time at all I landed feet-first on deck. Immediately after, I heard the sound of the glass face-guard on Doppler's helmet accidentally bang shut.

I strode toward my first mate, my hands clasped behind my back, and spoke, most intimidating, to him:

"Mr. Arrow! I've checked this miserable ship from stem to stern, and, as usual," here, I passed him, pausing for effect, "it's… spot on. Can you get nothing wrong?"

A flattered smile broke through, subtly, on Mr. Arrow's face. I couldn't steal a glimpse of Doppler's reaction, but doubtless he, too, was pleased to know I fancied the Legacy. In truth, I had taken somewhat of a fancy to her; it was her crew I didn't trust.

Mr. Arrow voiced his appreciation, tipping his tri-cornered hat in my direction, during which I turned and deliberately stepped before the Doctor to take proper notice of him.

I took in what I could see of him (for his suit was huge and exposed only his head and neck) in seconds. At this distance, he seemed even more ridiculous. Little spectacles clung to the tip of his canid nose, and his eyes told of the pusillanimous personality concealed within Doppler. He was also inexperienced, that I could tell right off. He had never been on an expedition in his life.

His inexperience and subordination only made him fair game, and his gall to frolic about the docks hiring crewmen and renting ships without consulting me, a person with the experience he so drastically lacked, only motivated my behavior towards him.

"Ah…" I said, feigning fascination, after a near collision with him, "Doctor Doppler, I presume?"

He cleared his throat. "Ahm, er…yes, I…"

I'd known people similar to, as well as I'd known stereotypes regarding personalities associated with people like the Doctor, and when the stereotype uncannily matches the truth, the person can be hopelessly predictable and dull. The Doctor, I concluded, going strictly by appearance and stereotypic influences, was one to drone on, and, uninterested in allowing any such initiation, I quickly knocked on the top of Doppler's space helmet and shouted, "Hello-o! Can you hear me?"

"Yes, yes! I can hear you, stop that banging!" he waved my hand away, and then busied himself by vainly attempting to pull off his helmet. I analyzed his suit again while he tugged at that, and this time found several flaws. To tease him was far too tempting to pass up, so I grasped the rheostat protruding from the rotund middle of the suit. "If I may, Doctor," I told him, twisting the rheostat round to the left, "this works… so much better when it's right way up…" when the object had been properly pivoted, I took hold of the electric cord poking out on the right side of it, grasped the Doctor's shoulders, spun him round as well, and pressed the cord's head nimbly into the electric outlet positioned on his knapsack, "…and plugged in."

Upon his release from my grip the Doctor pulled off his helmet, turned and faced me, unplugging the cord as he did so, and told me hotly, "If you don't mind—I can manage my own plugging!"

He shook the head of the cord at me and I took hold of it, as well as two of his fingers, and shook what I had of his hand. "I'm Captain Amelia," I told him genially. "Late of a few run-ins with the Procyon Armada- nasty business," I let go of his fingers, "but I won't bore you with my scars. You've met my first officer, Mr. Arrow…"

I stepped toward the man, gesturing to him. "…Sterling, tough, dependable, honest, brave and true." I raised him a fist, looking up at him, as his flattered smile broke through again. "Please, Captain…" he said humbly. I waved his words away, bantering with him, "Oh, shut up, Arrow. You know I don't mean a word of it."

Doppler's disgruntled throat cleared again, and I glanced at him as he began to speak. "'Scuse me…I hate to interrupt this…" he groped indignantly for the word, "…lovely banter, but… May I introduce to you Jim Hawkins."

The boy. The boy with the map, I had again forgotten all about him. I looked now, uninterested, at the teenage boy before me, who seemed distracted momentarily by the sails, and saw his darkened, blue eyes. His hair fell down before his face; he bore a scar on his cheek, and he wore a dark coat about him. Clearly, he was a troubled young man, and, besides my wariness of the sullen demeanor that seems to always come of troubled young men, I couldn't help also wondering what had made those eyes so dark.

I nevertheless made no outward acknowledgment of him, for the Doctor began to spout something of far more importance to me.

"Jim, you see, is the boy who found the treasure map-"

Without thinking two seconds of the deed, I clapped a hand round the Doctor's muzzle and clamped his jaws shut. I couldn't have brought myself to believe it had I not seen it just then before my very eyes: the Doctor was openly mentioning the map!

Just as I had feared, the massive crewman Hands, among some others who had been loading cargo nearby, turned slowly from his position facing us, grumbling, when I looked over at him. Fearful that the man had overheard the Doctor's slip-up, I waited until he was out of earshot before I relinquished the Doctor's muzzle and tapped unsentimentally at his nose with a fingernail. "I'd like a word with you in my stateroom."

Within a few minutes, everyone from Mr. Arrow to Jim Hawkins had trooped into my quarters, taking places they saw fit and to their own liking, as I closed and locked the door. I then looked at Doppler through the corners of my eyes.

"Doctor," I began as I advanced toward him, easing through my sentence condescendingly. "To muse… and blabber… about a treasure map… in front of this particular crew…" I was, by now, near the Doctor, and paused in my advancement, "…demonstrates a level of ineptitude… that borders on the imbecilic. And I mean that in a very caring way." This little addition was purely to soften the land of the already toppled Doctor, who, in turn, made an attempt to defend his loose tongue.

"Imbecilic, did you say? Foolishness I've got, but—"

I tired of his attempt.

"May I see the map, please?"

This was, I shall own, the smartest thing I'd done since the Doctor and his ward, Mr. Hawkins, had arrived. I should have taken the liberty of seizing an opportunity long before this time to see the map. Any occasion of seeing it, however, was better than no occasion at all, and I awaited the revelation of the map with an expectant hand.

There was a pregnant silence as the Doctor and Jim conducted themselves in a series of communicative gestures and looks, which finally ended with the Doctor waving his fingers for Jim to give the map to me.

Sullenly, Jim dug deep into his coat pocket—an irresponsible place for a treasure map—and pulled forth a rather large, golden-copper sphere. Tossing it in my direction, he mumbled at me in a monotonous tone, "Here."

I raised my opposite hand into the air and caught the sphere, staring at Mr. Hawkins, and then, lifting my ears, looked, for the first time, at the map to Treasure Planet. It was a glimmering, spherical gem of a gold and copper color. Engraved upon the surface of this uniquely shaped map were odd circles, flecks of lines and geometrical shapes, entwined into an intricate design of symbols. These must have meant something once: writing, perhaps—some sort of alien hieroglyphics—or drawings of some nature or another. Everything about this odd object was intriguing, and as for its genuineness, I could tell straight away that this was a relic to be trusted.

"Hmm," I murmured, "…fascinating." Then, settling my ears back down near the sides of my head, I clicked a nail on the surface of the ball and turned away toward the weapons cabinet that stood behind me. As I crossed to the cabinet, I called for the attention of Jim Hawkins. Then I opened the cabinet doors and found a small tin treasure chest one holds items in; this I flipped open and gingerly placed the map inside. "In the future," I told Jim while I secured the map, "you will address me as Captain, or ma'am. Is that clear?"

I waited for his response. A sigh came first to my ears, which I took as a sign that he needed prompting. "Mr. Hawkins…" I repeated myself warningly.

"Yes, ma'am," Mr. Hawkins managed. I had, for the time being, no objection to his having to force the correct way to address me, and mumbled to Jim while locking the cabinet, "That'll do."

The key I placed into one of my pockets as I turned to face the party behind me. "This," I said, referring to the map, "must be kept under lock and key when not in use. And Doctor," I added, sliding close to his face, my tone syrupy, "with the greatest possible respect…" my eyes flashed, and, my smooth inflection gone, I urged him intensely, "zip your howling screamer."

And with that I moved to my desk situated in the middle of the room, which the Doctor happened to be standing near, as he began again to defend himself. I, however, somewhat surprised that he had enough presumption to argue the situation, sat down and interrupted him with my next concern.

"Let me make this as…monosyllabic… as possible," I interjected. I then paused to investigate what words to express myself with that were indeed of only one syllable. "…I…don't much care for this crew you hired," I said trenchantly as I gestured to him, and added, breaking away from monosyllabic speech, "They're… how did I describe them, Arrow? I said something rather good this morning before coffee…"

Mr. Arrow, who was standing beside me behind my desk, recited what I'd told him earlier that morning, while taking some much needed coffee in my stateroom: that the crew was a 'ludicrous parcel of driveling galoots'.

I beamed at Doppler, contrasting the scowl he wore, and commented leisurely, "There you go: poetry."

"Now, see here!" the Doctor objected. Ready, I believe, to really have it out with me this time, he slammed his hands upon my desk, which I deplored with a lifted eyebrow. Recognizing his confrontational demeanor, I stood quickly and slid near his face again, appeasing, and concluded my discourse by interrupting him for the last time, "Doctor, I'd love to chat… tea, cake, the whole shebang, but... I have a ship to launch," I ran a fingernail up the metal collar of his space suit, "and you've got your outfit to buff up."

Removing myself from his face, I placed my hands firmly behind me and addressed Mr. Arrow. "Please escort these two neophytes," I threw Doppler a tired glance, "down to the galley straight away; young Hawkins will be working for our cook, Mr. Silver."

Jim had been fiddling with a piece of equipment during the Doctor's and my discussion, but upon my decree looked up sharply and spat, "What? The cook?"

Mr. Arrow made his way to the door and opened it. "Follow me, gentlemen," he said with a short bow. Both slowly made their exits, and shortly I had been left alone, standing behind my desk with my hands clasped behind me, and ready at all costs to get on with the voyage.