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Chapter 17: Some Say the World Will End in Fire
Meltdown was assuredly the angriest he had been that morning as the Doctor rose to a stand, hurried to untie me, and then turned back and aimed the laser flintlock at Meltdown's head. "Now, Mr. Meltdown," he said, in a most authoritative way, which I had to laugh aloud at, for it sounded very much like me, "if you would be so kind as to sit as still as you can while I tie you up…"
The Doctor handed the flintlock to me and in no time at all, Meltdown was bound at both the wrists and the ankles. The Doctor then armed himself with one of the many firearms Meltdown had previously loaded at the bow.
When it was certain that Meltdown was in sufficiently tight custody, the Doctor and I turned our attention to the longboat, the safe rescue of Jim Hawkins and the Legacy, and the capture of the remaining crewmembers. I regret to admit that the Doctor and I turned it into a rigorous dispute, during which we batted it about determinedly, as though we had all the time in the world to disagree. In reality, we wasted time that was even more precious than I realized, for the planet's core still rumbled the surface with low and rippling tremors that told of a more violent opponent than what would have ever occurred to me.
Nevertheless, I battled it out with the Doctor, unaware of the danger that was rapidly thundering towards us. It was my conviction that we round about and seize the R.L.S. Legacy first and then retrieve Mr. Hawkins, for I felt that holding the ship would give us another major edge in the mutiny: it would arm us with the cannon, return the provisions that were aboard, and provide a big enough hold for all the pirates to be prisoners in. The Doctor, however, felt that we should immediately head out to rescue Jim, arguing that we had all the weaponry the pirates had left with Meltdown, so there was no worry of being out-shot. Also, with every pirate in attendance to the entourage in search of the treasure, there was no plausible way we would lose our chance of regaining the Legacy later. This argument went on for a time I cannot precisely tell, until a disturbance some distance off caught our attention and stopped the dispute momentarily.
The Bio Electronic Navigator was flailing his copper limbs nimbly in the air as he, at top speed, made his way toward us. He was still perhaps a little less than a quarter-mile away from the longboat, but was already causing such verbal commotion that the Doctor and I were compelled to sit in perplexity and wait for the little robot to reach us.
"Make a run for it!" was the first thing I could discern from his distant hails, and when he at last reached the longboat he shouted loudly, "She's goin' up! Run for yer li-ives!" And with that the copper robot buckled over at the waist and leaned upon his knees, breathing heavily in every good attempt to catch his breath. The Doctor was the first to ask B.E.N for an elaboration.
"This whole thing's goin' ka-blooey in no time at all! We really gotta get a move-on!" the robot tried to clarify.
"What's going 'ka-blooey'?" the Doctor demanded, and by this time I, too, had to inquire upon what the automaton was talking about.
"This whole planet! We found the treasure thanks to Jimmy, an' boy was there a lot of it! Jimmy found my memory chip, too—Flint pulled my memory circuit an' Jimmy found it in his long dead, boney ol' hand! But why did Flint pull my memory circuit, you ask? He pulled it so that I wouldn't warn anybody about his booby-trap that he left so that no one could steal his treasure! And now that booby-trap been activated and it's goin' to make the whole planet go sky-high!"
As if to confirm B.E.N's declaration, there was another rumble that shook the core of the planet and ricocheted through the surface, and this time the thunder was much louder, and the tremors were quite detectible. I shot a glance at the Doctor.
"We've got to get Jim. Now you really can't convince me otherwise."
I was about to comply, when, to my greatest shock, over the hills came the crew, running and tripping and shouting for their lives. After some moments I realized they were scrambling towards us, calling for Meltdown. I grabbed up the flintlock as the Doctor retrieved his own, and as the crew came scuttling towards us, I hailed them with finality.
"Gentlemen, Mr. Meltdown is at the moment incapacitated! The Doctor and I are in control of this longboat, and I suggest that if you want off this planet you come quietly and accept defeat! If you do not comply with that, I do hope some higher entity takes pity on you, for I most certainly will not!"
As it dawned on the pirates that roles had been switched and they would now be prisoners, they slowed in their advancement perceptibly. Their shouting ceased and they looked as though struggling to contemplate their options. Then, suddenly, another tremor shook the earth, this time with increasing violence, and they again began to tumble towards us at a rapid pace, one of them shouting, "Heave to, lads, and accept whot's come! We got better chances with this 'ere cap'm—blimey if we've got a prayer with any 'igher entity!"
The crewmen bumbled aboard over the port side, and very nearly tipped us over. The Doctor and I bound them as best we could and assigned them all to the sparse amount of thwarts left over from what B.E.N, the Doctor, Meltdown, and I had left them. It was a tight squeeze for all of us, and before I attempted to elbow my way to the tiller so as to maneuver us towards the east to retrieve Jim Hawkins, I turned to the Doctor.
"Forthrightly, Doctor, I must say that no amount of effort will make this longboat efficient enough for all that we must maintain," I observed. The Doctor eyed me severely and then opened his mouth to protest, but I continued before even a syllable of his argument was uttered. "I realize your first priority is Mr. Hawkins' safety, but you must remember that I have the final word, and I feel the best thing for is to head for the ship first. Mr. Hawkins," and then I saw his wan expression and added, "…and you, Doctor… will be quite all right."
The Doctor swallowed hard but presented no contest, and I launched us heavily into the air and made our way to the Legacy as quickly as possible.
The Legacy, I could see upon reaching her, had been quite bothered with in our absence. The first thing we saw as we approached was that the Jolly Roger was not waving above the mainmast. The pirates wondered at this in confirmed defeat, and it suddenly felt as though John Silver himself had been stripped from his stolen pedestal. But that was not all, by any means: the cables in the engine room had been pulled and then plugged back again, carelessly, and the cannons had been neutralized. Some of the cables had even been ripped entirely from their respective outlets. The pipes in the longboat bay seemed to have been bumped about, and some of them had been so battered they no longer possessed a perfect alignment. This had released soot into them, and I left it as impossible to repair at that moment. The rigging that rose and took down the flag on the mainmast had been cut, and the bottom half of it was all that remained hanging lifelessly from the crow's nest. The other half was nowhere to be seen. Lastly, some of the provisions had been gotten into; the Doctor suggested some sort of scavenging creature from the planet, but the crewmen said more the likely it was Scroop, whom they had left aboard the Legacy to look after it. Indeed, it seemed plausible; most of the rum was missing, and in its place many empty bottles. The pirates were more impressed by this than the severe absence of their spider-like sentry.
All the while I inspected the ship as the crewmen and the Doctor followed me, B.E.N's anxiety was growing. He would tap the Doctor on the shoulder, whimper into the crew's ears, and finally tugged at my sleeve with a tentative, but urgent sound.
"I'm not sure how much time we've got, Cap'm, but I really, really think we gotta go get Jimmy. The planet's—"
To finish his warning, the planet shook violently, and the sound of thunder from the planet's body was suddenly a daunting roar. I lifted my ears at the noise as the crew huddled into a tight knot behind the Doctor and me, and I turned to the Doctor. "Prepare the hold for our weak-hearted buccaneers, Doctor," I commanded shortly. "Get rope that is thick, now, sir… and to your liking."
The Doctor smiled and hurried to the hold. I turned to the crew and bid them into the shrouds; before they were to be imprisoned beneath the deck, I needed the hands to release the sails.
The tremors came in more frequent, longer and violent intervals as the hands retrieved the sails. The thundering roar issued a broad crescendo, and soon we were all shouting at one another over the sound of it, a practice, I found, was still a very painful fight to accomplish because of my injured side. The hands clung to the shrouds when the tremors were so intense it reached them, and I had them release the astral anchor as fast as possible to decrease our connection to the shuddering earth. The Doctor reported back to the bridge and shouted that all was prepared for our guests, and I shouted at the hands to follow the Doctor down to the hold, and at that very moment felt a ripping pain rocket through my left side, and I fell promptly to the bridge floor.
B.E.N turned out to be the hands' escort to the hold. The Doctor was kneeling beside me in a breath, and placed a gentle hand upon my shoulder. Shocked by both the pain and then the impact of the floor, I choked a good bit before I could find it within my self to prop myself upon my elbows and tell the Doctor I was perfectly fine.
The Doctor's tongue slid skeptically along his teeth, slight irritation lining the corners of his mouth. "Can I say without your wrathful reaction that I don't believe you?" he asked lightly, but with quite a serious expression. I concentrated upon the shooting pain in my side as I slowly pushed myself to a more upright position, and said lightheartedly through clenched teeth, "At this particular moment, Doctor, undoubtedly."
The Doctor laughed softly and helped me to my feet. Another tremor shook the planet terribly, and with my less sure footing, I fell flatly upon the Doctor, who braced up and caught me from another spill. There was a moment during which I leaned heavily against him, his arms about me and my hands thrown upon his chest, until I realized the position I had put us both in, cleared my throat, and straightened.
There was a strange orange and fiery crimson smoldering in the sky, laced with a thin, even smoke that wove the blazing horizon together. The roaring of the planet was now incessant, and my face stayed close beside the Doctor's, in order to communicate without having to raise my voice. I felt oddly at ease so close to the Doctor, but this was the least acceptable time to be thinking about that, and so I made my way to the helm, with the Doctor supporting me every step of the way. At last I grasped one of the pegs. B.E.N shouted that all was ready to launch, and I nodded that we could now get underway. B.E.N's metal chest sprung forth a small circular plate and he connected himself to the ship, as all Navigators do, and called up the compass.
"We're goin' east, right Cap'm?" he shouted, and I shouted back he was correct without any thought. Again my side flared up in bitter anguish, and I gasped, gripping the helm in both hands and wincing obviously. The Doctor was again beside me, and I looked up at him with frustration.
"I'm in no condition to do this," I admitted angrily, forcing myself back up. The Doctor nodded, unable to disagree. "Then, Doctor," I breathed against the din of the planet, "take the helm."
"No," was the Doctor's mechanical response, but I scoffed laughingly and took hold of his hand. "That was not a request," I replied, my breath returning to me. I placed his hand deliberately upon the helm, and he took hold one of the pegs. Looking at me with blatant uncertainty, I clapped him on the shoulder and said grandly, "Don't worry, Doctor. I shall help you."