Chapter 12, Alexis's in Wonderland
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: There's probably a Walking Dead joke there someplace, I just can't think of it. I don't own Castle. Still. Rating: M, in parts. Time: The near future, after Four of a Kind.
Chapter Twelve. Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of Dramamine.
Author's note: With apologies to Swordwriter.
Once back at the armory, they had to wait twenty four hours to be disappointed.
"I was kidnapped from LA. My dad and I moved there, just temporarily, while he worked on the script for Miami Heat. "
Rick looked at Alexis. "So the Nikki Heat movies were…good?"
Alexis laughed. "Good! They were fantastic. Heat Wave was the second highest grossing movie of the year. The studio couldn't wait to get the next one out. Dad didn't like leaving New York of course, but Mom was able to get a leave of absence from the NYPD, so he was okay with it. And the money for writing the screenplay was…massive."
"Your dad is married to…?" Kate asked. Meredith, Alexis' mom, couldn't possibly have become a New York cop, could she? Although from all she had seen in the alternate universes, anything was possible.
Alexis laughed. "He's married to you. " She frowned. "That is, he married Kate Beckett. I call her Mom, because my real mom is such a total bitch, especially since dad wouldn't insist that she be cast as Nikki Heat. I call Kate Mom because she's the only real mom I've ever had and it pisses Meredith off to no end."
Castle smiled. "Okay, we'll take you back to your home. I'm assuming that Metford will have some sort of cover story for you. I'd advise you to go along with it. Telling people that you were kidnapped, sent to an alternate Earth, became a psychopath and was rescued by two of your dads and two of your moms is a sure way to end up in the rubber room."
"Can I tell Dad about it? He's a huge sci fi geek, you know. "Alexis laughed. "I bet you do know."
Rick just nodded, but Kate laughed.
"Anyway," Alexis went on, "he's been thinking about writing a sci fi book. This might be a good place to start. Everybody likes alternate histories and that sort of thing."
"Not everyone." Becks muttered. "Especially if you have to live through the damned things."
Before they got ready to leave this Earth, Rick stopped to talk with Kate Royce. "You'll be okay now, with the antidote and the vaccines. You, the Coast Guard and the people over at Hudson U. have almost three hundred immunes now. Once you can start organizing Manhattan without the danger of being attacked by psychopaths, things will be better. I just wish I could help you more."
Kate nodded and he could see tears in her eyes. "Thanks. You've done more than I could have ever hoped for." She began to cry. "I love Mike in a way, but the great love of my life was you, Rick Castle."
"And I'm married to Kate Beckett. In fact, a number of us Ricks are married to Kates."
She gave him a quick hug. "Go, please. Before I fall apart completely."
Rick kissed her cheek and left.
Once back on the base on the Moon, Rick and his friends made an interesting discovery.
"I've got a problem." Metford said.
"An infestation of man eating butterflies?" Rick asked.
"Gunslingers wanting to meet you at high noon?" Kate added.
"A world full of crazed killers?" Rodgers guessed.
"Nothing so simple." Metford said sarcastically. "We've tracked the next Alexis to the world she was taken to, but her idiot kidnappers seem to have lost her."
"Lost her?" Rick said, suddenly starting to feel bad. "How do you lose a woman? Where did they lose her? How? Where? Jesus, how bad is this?"
Metford was no help. "I need to do a little work. You'll have a week or so to relax. I suggest you use it."
"If we're going to be relaxing, how about letting us get outside for a change?"
"Outside?" Metford replied. "There's a vacuum outside. This is the Moon."
"No, outside of our rooms. Let us go back to the shopping mall. Or someplace, okay?"
Someplace turned out to be a private home on the Moon that Metford's agency, whatever it was, had access to. Rick, Kate, Simone, Rodgers and Becks walked through their new home for a week.
"Nice." Rick said. "Two stories, four bedrooms and four and a half baths, full kitchen and a nice wet bar. No TV because no one wants us to know what's going on down there on that Earth, but we have books and some movies, plus a swimming pool and an exercise room. And best of all, we have a nice, clear dome over us keeping in the air and heat and giving us a great Earthrise. Since I own property on the Moon, I'll pay very close attention so I can re-create this on our Moon."
Kate just smiled.
By day, they swam and worked out since Rodgers said their muscles would atrophy in the Moon's one sixth gravity and by night the two couples made love. That left Simone feeling alone and left out.
She could hear the occasional moan coming from the two rooms occupied by the lovers. She knew what the other two Kates were enjoying. She remembered the night during their previous adventure that the other three Kates and she had all tried to make love to Rick.
She finished her shower and walked to her bed. A fresh pair of panties and a long tee shirt were on the bed. She pushed them to the floor and lay down on the bed. I want my own Rick Castle. Like all Kate Becketts, I love the man. But he has his Kate. And Rick Rodgers has his Becks. But I can dream, can't I?
She spread her legs but began with her boobs. She squeezed them lightly, pushing them in circles on her chest. Her nipples became taut and she began pinching them, lightly at first and then with more force. She moaned slightly and allowed one hand to slide down her body while the other moved from one boob to the other. She lightly ran one finger over her slit, arousing herself and becoming wet in the process. She then pushed on finger inside of herself, but not very deeply. As she became hotter, she pushed the one finger deeper and squeezed her boobs harder. She whispered Rick's name and smiled. One finger became two and she used her thumb to rub her clit. When she pushed three fingers inside of her, she decided to use her other hand to pinch her clit. She hadn't had sex in a long time and had hardly ever had sex with anyone that meant anything to her. Her imaginary sex with Rick was making her hotter and wetter than any time she could remember. Too soon, she felt her orgasm coming on. She thought about stopping and letting herself calm down. Fuck it. She thought. I want this now. I want him now. Simone began lifting her ass off of the bed as she thrust into herself. She moaned his name as she felt her orgasm wash over her. For a few moments she lay there trying to imagine what it would be like if Rick was really beside her, telling her he loved her. But it wasn't happening. She could hear the moans coming from the other rooms. She got up, briefly washed herself off and went back to bed, her lust and love only partly sated.
Metford had apparently solved his problem. "You're going to Earth."
"Of course we are." Rick said, confused. "We'd sure as hell better not be going to any other planet."
"No." Metford snapped. "You're going to this Earth. The one you're orbiting around now."
"Cool, can we see…"Rick began.
"No. You can't see or do anything."
Metford was as good as his word. They flew from the Moon to an orbiting space station in a shuttle that had no windows. All they saw of the station were blank corridors. The shuttle down to Earth was similarly windowless as was the plane they took. They were taken to a boat in a car with blacked out windows and were only allowed to come on deck when the boat was well at sea.
"At least the oceans are still here." Rick said.
"Maybe it's just a small ocean. There may be a shattered post-apocalyptic landscape just over the horizon." Rodgers added with a smile.
"Complete with radioactive zombies?" Rick asked hopefully.
"The planet is just fine. "Metford barked. "We didn't want you seeing anything you might take back to your Earths."
"What the hell is that?" Becks asked.
Ahead of them was a huge, circular latticed structure floating on the ocean. Inside of it was a sailing ship.
"The lattice structure will move you and your ship to the next Earth. You'll get further details about the ship when we give you your viruses. But, the Earth you're going to is behind yours in technology. That's the ship you'll be going to the next Earth on. It was built by some War of 1812 reenactors. It's a modern copy of the Chasseur, an American privateer of the period. She's a schooner, about four hundred tons and mounts fourteen guns. As I said, it's a modern copy, so she's built from a ceramic matrix and not wood, which means she's stronger than steel, but much lighter. She also has a fuel cell to drive her engine and her electronics, radar and sonar and such. Her original guns were not functional so we replaced them with real ones. Not black powder muzzle loading cannons, but replica period cannons that are actually fifty millimeter breechloaders."
"How about the crew?" Kate asked.
"Mostly they're from our navy, but a few of the reenactors volunteered to provide some technical support. Naturally, our navy has few sailors with experience with large sailing vessels. There are a hundred and two of them."
"That's an awful lot for such a small ship." Rick said. He knew people with sailing yachts that were bigger and with much smaller crews.
"You'll have to man the guns in a fight. Fourteen guns with four gunners each is fifty six people. Plus Marines, armed with weapons that look like they're from 1812, but fire 6 millimeter military rounds from a twelve shot magazine. And you'll need to sail the ship in action. Your gunners and marines are from our military and the reenactors help sail the ship. You'll find you'll need all of your crew."
"What's a chasseur?" Becks asked.
"It's French for hunter, but it used to describe light infantrymen or light cavalry. So, shall we get your virus shots and see your new command?"
"And we need a ship because?" Simone asked.
"Because the Alexis for this planet is apparently on some sort of a warship. Perhaps a pirate vessel."
"Of course she is." Muttered Rick. "She can't be in fucking Disneyland. That would be easy and fun."
Rodgers, as usual, was the commanding officer. Although the crew had been warned not to give any secrets away that might be useful to another Earth, he quickly decided that none of his military crew, although well trained, had been in combat. Apparently there were no combat vets in the local military.
"Ready, Mr. Castle?" Rogers asked of his first lieutenant.
"Ready, sir."
"Lieutenants Kate, Becks and Simone?"
"Ready, sir." They replied.
"Send us to our destination Earth." Rodgers then smiled. "Make it so."
Unless a ship is sailing on an absolutely flat calm sea, it will pitch. That is, the bow will drop and the stern will rise, then the bow will rise and the stern will drop. And that will continue. In addition the ship will yaw; that is roll from side to side. And ships will pitch and yaw at the same time.
Castle quickly discovered this phenomena.
"Are you okay, babe?" Kate asked, worried at how he looked.
"Sure. I'm fine. I've been on ships before." Castle felt his stomach getting queasier. "Mostly on yachts. We'd go out into Long Island Sound, anchor and party. The waters were a lot calmer. And I've been on cruise ships. Really big ones that…"
Castle ran to the rail and threw up over the side. However, he was vomiting into the wind and most of it came back and landed on him.
"Castle!" Kate cried, running to him. "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "I just need to lie down. Just for a bit."
Kate helped him go below decks and put him to bed in their cabin. Then she undressed him and washed him off.
"I'll be okay." He said weakly.
Eventually, Kate went back on deck.
"Is he going to be okay?" Rodgers asked.
"I hope so."
"No one ever died of sea sickness. Although he may feel like he is."
For two days Chasseur sailed through the Caribbean and Rick felt like he was going to die the whole time.
On the morning of the third day, they saw a ship.
"Radar reports a bogey at eighteen thousand yards, almost dead ahead." Chief Brockleman reported to the captain.
Rodgers brought his binoculars up. "Can't see much at this range. But he's coming at us at a good clip. Can you estimate his speed?"
Chief Brockleman replied almost at once. "About twelve knots, sir. Not bad for a sailing ship. And he's headed right for us."
Rodgers nodded. "Okay. Keep us on course. It might be a warship checking us out or it might be a pirate."
When the other ship was about a mile away, Rodgers checked her out. "Shit. She's flying a blood red flag. Which is local pirate speak for "We aren't taking any prisoners today."
"There's something in the rigging." Kate said, trying to focus her binoculars.
"People." Rodgers said. "The bastards have hung people from their yardarms so we'll know what to expect. Fuck it. We're gonna kill 'em all."
"She's bigger than we are." Brockleman said. "Maybe a small frigate? I'd say twenty four or twenty eight guns? About that."
"Furl the sails and get the engine running." We can out sail them on our engines and the sails'll just get in the way." He turned to the drummer who had appeared by his side. "Beat to quarters."
To the drumbeat of Hearts of Oak, the crew poured onto deck to man the guns and up the ratlines to furl the sails.
The other ship, seeing Chasseur furl her sails and still sail on at a good rate of speed, began to veer away rather than closing to the usual range for battles in the age of sail; half pistol shot. As the ships came abreast of each other, Rodgers ordered the guns to open fire. As they did, Kate saw her husband stagger up from below. She ran to him.
"What are you doing here?"
"What I'm supposed to do, having your back. And a gorgeous back it is, too."
"Castle you're too sick to be any help."
As they argued, the other ship opened fire. The range was too great and only half of the cannon balls hit the hull. They all bounced off. The Chasseur's cannons were firing at what for them was point blank range and firing explosive shells.
Rick and Kate did a sort of a dance around the deck, each one trying to put themselves between danger and the other one. Neither was succeeding.
Chasseur put several shots into the waterline of opponent, opening gaping holes to the sea. Above them, the Marines and sailors poured rifle fire onto the deck of the pirate, clearing the enemy gun crews away.
Simone noticed Rick and Kate and their odd movements. She ran to them. "Here! Get behind the main mast. It's thick enough to stop anything they'll shoot at you." She dragged them to cover, then looked at the pirate ship. "It looks like Captain Rodgers is going to pass close by their stern. Our shells will travel the length of the ship. I doubt that their stern chasers are even manned now."
Rodgers did pass within a few yards of the pirate. "Fire as your guns bear and keep shooting." He commanded.
The first shells blew away part of the stern of the ship so that the next shells didn't explode until they hit something inside the ship. Since most of the crew had fled to the supposed safety below decks, they were massacred. One shell hit the mainmast, shattering it and sending it overboard. Other shells smashed the pirate's guns, dismounting them and sending the guns themselves flying about, crushing anything and anyone in their way.
"Some are jumping overboard." Called a sailor from high in the rigging. "It looks like the ships boats are all shot to bits."
Rodgers smiled coldly. "Good. The bastards can drown or maybe sharks will get them."
"Sir, called the sailor. "I can see some kind of a cage on deck. It has people in it. Women I think. They're screaming for help."
Rodgers ordered a long boat away and soon they were headed back with fifteen young and naked women aboard. The women boarded and stood there, looking around them. Finally one woman stepped forward. She was tall, slender, but well-muscled. Castle would have described her as handsome rather than pretty. "I'll freely submit to your lusts if you leave my daughter alone." Standing behind her was a girl of perhaps twelve, obviously terrified.
Rodgers smiled. "I do believe we can control our lusts. I'm Captain Richard Rodgers, private armed ship Chasseur, hired by a wealthy merchant to find his daughter, Alexis Castle. And you are?"
"Mary Wend. My husband, who's hanging over there, and I owned the brig Mary. When we were taken… my daughter was to be sold on the mainland. Girls who are…pure… are in great demand." She said with difficulty.
Rodgers ordered that white duck pants and blue and white striped shirts be given to the women as they told their stories. Not surprisingly, the stories were much the same. The women had been taken either at sea or from small coastal towns for sale elsewhere.
"What can you tell me of the ship I sank?" Rodgers asked.
"Portuguese frigate Santa Lucia, Captain Belo. The Portuguese are too broke to pay their crews, so they're little more than pirates." One woman said.
"They are pirates." Growled another woman.
"Not anymore." Someone said with grim satisfaction.
"The republicans are defeating the royalists all over Brazil. But it will do no good." The speaker was a lithe, dark skinned beauty with what must have been a Portuguese accent. "The republicans are just as vile as the royalists."
Mary Wend had sailed out of a place called Georgetown, Jamaica, which appeared to correspond to Kingston in the world Castle and his friends knew. And, according to the women, many ships called there making it the perfect place to pick up information and land the women.
Rick, Kate, Rodgers, Becks and Simone sat at a well-worn table at the Crown and Anchor, Georgetown's best pub. Rick, for one, thought it was one of the best pubs he had ever been in. Kate noted that he had thrown up so much on the Chasseur that any place on dry land that served food would be heaven to him.
They sat, eating, drinking and listening to the pub's owner, Old Jemmy. He looked like a man who enjoyed a good meal and a drink or twelve after, or before. "A lovely redheaded lass, you say? With blue eyes and a delicate, ladylike complexion? New hereabouts, you say? I know exactly who you mean, sir. Indeed I do. Captain Ashley's your man. The lass is his woman."
"His woman?' Castle broke in. "She's too young to be anyone's woman." Kate kicked him under the table as did Becks. "Or so I've been told." He added lamely. He glared at both women. "You're both kicking me?" He muttered.
Simone smiled at him and kicked his shin as well.
"What can you tell me about this Ashley?" Rodgers asked.
"Captain Ashley commands the Revenge, a schooner not unlike your own, Captain Rodgers, but a wee bit larger. She mounts eighteen guns and has a crew of well over a hundred men. Hard men, sir. Killers all. Although were I in their places, a killer I'd be as well."
"What is their place?" Rodgers asked.
"Captain Ashley's family owned a large farm near the coast in the Carolinas, I believe. They were raided by the Dons, the Spaniards, you know. His family was killed and he and his sister were taken as slaves. Ashley was taken to Hispaniola where he was put to work in the sugar fields. His sister was sold to a plantation owner. She killed herself, she did. Eventually Ashley escaped with a few men and stole a fishing boat. He took over a small Spanish sailing ship and armed her. He's been taking over larger and larger ships and now has a fast, powerful vessel to work his revenge on the Dons."
"Do you know where he is?" Rick asked.
Old Jemmy leaned forward. "You've not heard this from me, but word is that he and two other ships, at least, plan to raid Habana and cut out a Spanish treasure ship. They say he'll use the money to buy a fine frigate and give the King of Spain hell."
"And I can find him where?"
Old Jemmy shrugged. "He was seen sailing through the Windward Passage five days ago, headed for the Atlantic and then Habana, I suppose."
"And taking Alexis with him, too." Rodgers said. "Any idea where he'd go if he's successful?"
The pub owner shrugged. "There are hundreds of islands in this sea. If he survives, he'll sail to one of them to lick his wounds and repair his ship. He'd have to take some damage if he attacks Habana. Where he'd go afterwards especially if he's rich…"Old Jemmy shrugged. "Who knows?"
"We head to Cuba?" Becks asked.
"We head to Cuba."
Time and tide were in their favor. Within an hour they were headed out of Georgetown bound for Havana. The five gathered in the main cabin, looking over a map. The time on shore had done wonders for Castle and his stomach. He now felt merely queasy and no longer like he'd have to get better to die.
Rodgers tapped the map. "Captain Ashley has a five or six day head start on us, at least. If he's smart, and he must be to have lasted this long, he'll hit the Spaniards as soon as he can before they can get wind of his proposed raid. That means he'll probably be headed back from Havana by the time we reach the Atlantic. We could stay in the Windward Passage and let him come to us."
Castle shook his head, which he regretted at once. "He's headed for some small islands to lay low for a while. That could be the Bahamas."
"Or the Turks and Caicos." Kate added.
"And the Florida Keys." Becks said.
"Or even the American mainland." Simone pointed out.
"He could be headed for West Africa, or even Europe if he's now rich." Rodgers said.
The others nodded in agreement.
"So, just head straight for Havana and see what happens?" Rodgers asked.
The rest agreed.
Four days later, the coast of Cuba was off their port bow. The sea was calm, almost completely still, which Rick appreciated. The sun beat down on them from a cloudless sky, and that, with the humidity drenched everyone with sweat. Chasseur's engine drove the ship along at a faster clip than the occasional puffs of wind would have.
"Sir," the radar operator called to Rodgers, "target at nineteen thousand yards. He's headed on our opposite course and would pass us to seaward by several miles on his present course."
"Speed?" Rodgers asked.
After a few seconds he got the reply. "Five knots. Maybe less. There might be some wind away from land that we're not getting."
"Plot an intercept course. We'll go see who he is and maybe he'll know something."
The ship they were closing on had obviously been in a fight. One mast was about a third the height of the other and the hull was riddled with holes. In addition to the sails, the crew was manning sweeps in an attempt to row the ship faster than the wind could move her.
"She's about half our size, maybe less." Becks noted.
"And that's before parts of her were shot off." Castle added.
Rodgers picked up a bullhorn modified to look like an old fashioned speaking trumpet. "What ship?"
"Who the hell are you?" Was the reply from a worn looking officer on the quarterdeck.
"Privateer Chasseur. We're looking for Captain Ashley. Do you know where he is?"
The officer waved vaguely behind him. "Back there, if he's still alive and afloat. The bloody Dons want him bad. I'd get the hell out of here, were I you."
"What ships are after him?" Rodgers called,
"All of them." Was the dispirited reply.
Rodgers asked for more details, but the two ships slowly pulled apart without any further communications.
"I guess we'll have to go look for ourselves."
"At least with our engines, we can outrun anything that has to depend on these light winds." Kate said.
It was nearly an hour before they saw the next ship.
"About our size and she's been in a fight. That has to be Ashley's Revenge." Rick said. The ship coming towards them had indeed been in a fight. The sails were torn and the rigging was in tatters. While the hull appeared to be mostly sound, they could see most of the crew working frantically to replace the rigging and mend the sails. Only a few sailors bothered to look at Chasseur.
As they passed Revenge on the opposite course, all five looked through binoculars at the quarterdeck of Revenge.
"There!" Kate said. "The man in the blue coat. That's got to be Captain Ashely."
"Where the hell is Alexis?" Rick said under his breath.
"Oh, shit." Rodgers exclaimed, also looking through his binoculars.