Chapter 10: Noesis

Jack rubbed his belly, rather annoyed by the fact that it indeed proved that as he had thought, drinking whiskey would upset the precarious balance of his intestines. The smug expression on Claire's face and the alcohol amplified glint in her eyes told him that the healer was clearly aware of his predicament too, which for a moment, made him contemplate whether her call for the drink and her insistence for them to drink together was a part of some sort of plan, to escape, or at least delay their departure. But as long as she still wore the shackles, the possibility was quite unlikely.

"Crohn's disease," Claire tilted her glass indicatively towards her companion, "that's what they will call what you have. It's not unusual for an acute, severe, gastroenteric illness to be the trigger for its appearance. Basically, lesions inside your digestive system that will not heal. Modern medicine can usually make it manageable with the use of antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs." At Jack's quizzical expression, she added, "of course you won't know many of these words, not many will, not for another couple of hundred years."

"If your vision into the future is that specific, Madam, you are indeed unique," Jack gave appreciation when it was due.

Claire shook her head, sighing, "psychic or witch, that's all anyone supposes of me. Can there be no other explanation that occurs to anyone?" The woman complained. Narrowmindedness was one of the few things she really didn't appreciate in this era.

Jack raised his eyebrows a little, but responded without missing a beat, "not unless you claim to have travelled here from a different world."

The offhand comment that rang close to the truth startled Claire so much that she set her glass down, "whatever do you mean by that?"

"Have you read Gulliver's Travels?" He remarked conversationally, "and then there was this Irish friend of my brothers', a certain clergyman of the name of Samuel Madden who once gave me a copy of his satire, Memoirs of the Twentieth Century. He has some interesting ideas about how messages can get to us from the future. Of course, both of those are fiction."

Claire remained a little baffled and thus relatively slow in her answer. Their previous conversations weren't of the affable, laid-back nature and while she was well aware of the fact that Jack was not only smart, but well-educated, capable of objective thought and a critical perspective of religious concepts, she could not know he had contemplated the concept of time travel before. "I am aware of Gulliver's Travel, but not of these Memoirs you talk about. Please Captain, tell me more."

"Not surprising you haven't heard of them. Due to their provocative nature against certain religious affiliations, I believe my brother Alex said that most copies were destroyed by the writer himself. Interesting how there's no risk when discussing such things with you though," he mused, "and not just that, but you will understand."

"You don't believe in the teachings of the church," Claire established. He had hinted at being at odds with doctrine before, so it wasn't a question, just a statement of fact that intrigued her. It was very rare in the eighteenth century for someone to show independent thinking and that was one thing she had always appreciated about Jack and would've served as a basis for a good relationship between them if circumstances were different.

"Let's just say that darkness recognises a similar evil. Though I've got to say, that my evil is nothing compared to the pain our loving deity purposefully unleashes on the world only to feel in power. However Madam, we are not here to discuss my spiritual views, not unless it has something to do with your visions of the future."

Claire licked her lips. The whiskey provided was indeed good and with Jack indisposed, she had more than a fair share of it, sufficient for her to feel like she could go ahead with her unlikely tale that never gotten easy to make believable. So it was best just to get on with it, "there's a portal that allows time travel at Craigh na Dun. I have no idea how it works, my appearance in this century was entirely by accident and I have no idea if I can go back either, but that is what it seems like Jamie wants me to try, go back to my own time, be safe there, deliver this baby safe."

Jack looked at her long, contemplative, never doubtful till one of his eyebrows raised a little, in question, "and what century would that be?"

"The twentieth."

The captain nodded, "it is a fair assumption indeed that I would've never believed your story during the interrogation."

"But you believe me now?"

"Yes. It all makes sense now, your knowledge, the way you conduct yourself, so different than any of the women I have ever met. Madam, this will be the most intriguing journey I have ever undertaken if you indulge me with details of this world in the future on the way. But first, you must sleep," he snatched the whiskey bottle out of her reach and stood, "as I have no intention of going back on promises I make."

tbc