After what seemed forever, the Marine escort stopped and stood at attention before a huge double ebonized door. A black reception desk blocked access to the door and behind a small table sat the most beautiful woman Ed had ever seen. Thoughts of Sparkle and that long weekend with Sindy Blazer dissolved as he gazed on the vision of feminine loveliness. “Ah, Captain Hallard,” said the vision. “Have a seat; the Second Sea Lord will see you soon.”
Ed’s heart, kidneys, and spleen stopped, and his bowels began to flutter when the heard the phrase “…the Second Sea Lord…” He was doomed. The marine escort did not move. They remained silent as the grave.
Ed had never met Admiral Priscilla “Old Lead Bottom” Plumblossom, the Second Sea Lord of Second Life and responsible for the Black and White fleets as well as overall Naval Intelligence. Ed tried to think of a joke, but in this woman’s navy there was nothing at all humorous about Naval Intelligence. Ed did however know what “Old Lead Bottom” looked like, every Naval Reserve Officer did from the little flash cards of the faces and biographies of Important Naval Persons that the Navy Board issued from time to time.
“Captain Hallard,” said the vision, “please hand me your me-Comp, you will not need it.”
At this rate Ed thought I may never see it again, or for that matter it may never see me either. Well at least I still have 23 more payments to make. That should make Jobless Steves unhappy, he chuckled. Gallows humor they called it.
Ed looked for a seat, there were none. He glanced about the Long Black Hall but there was nothing much to see, it was completely void and empty except for that great hulking door, the vision, and her desk. Ed did note that the desk was also a void. Not a scrap of paper, a bit of tomato and lettuce sandwich, or a speck of dust blemished its shinny black marble surface. Only his me-Comp occupied the desk.
Ed took a deep breath and tried to think of something calming. Punky. Yes Punky Pugilist, now a Captain for the Blimp Cartel and a former student of Ed’s at the Academy of Balloons. Ed thought back to those happier days.
Ed met Punky as a youthful and naive cadet in her second year – the ‘fledgling year’ it was called in the Balloon Corps. Ed had been called in to teach Emperian Navigation when Professor Hindimith Nolork, Adjunct Professor of Celestial Guidence at the Academy, and Full Professor of the Department of Real Numbers at the University of Sonogno, had taken leave after flying solo from the Isle of Lesbos II, then to Maderia and on to remote Penelope and finally touching down at Sunset Strip before returning to Lesbos II. Nolork had accomplished the impossible. He had circumnavigated Second Life solo. He had taken only a tuna fish sandwich with cornichon pickles and some chips. He had nearly died.
Ed, dressed in his civvies, had entered the Great Hanger of the Academy and had become lost. A very small, but wiry young second year cadet with a ready smile and a look of intensity and pluck, approached him. “Can I help you Captain Hallard? To find the Emperian Navigation Class Room?” asked the cadet. Ed could tell she was a second year cadet by the pin feathers making their way through the soft white down of her cadet’s cap. But how did she know me he wondered?
As he started to form the question, the cadet stood up straight and as tall as her short 4’2” frame would allow and saluted crisply. “Cadet, third class, Punky Pugilist reporting Captain Hallard,” she shouted in a voice far louder than Ed thought possible. “I knew it was you sir, because of the astrolabe in your hand and the name tag,” she said in a firm voice.
Ed could hardly suppress a laugh. This kid was fast though Ed. She’s going to make a fine pilot.
In the following weeks Ed continued to be amazed at Punky’s skills. She was a whiz at mathematics and grasped the principals of Euclidian Navigation very quickly. She was one of the few students who ventured into Non-Euclidian Navigation and Parallelism. She was a champion swimmer, winning the prestigious Coelacanth Award, for swimming underwater undetected for a long long time. Later Ed was to learn that she was a crack shot having come in second place at the Deadeye Competition held annually in the Capital. She had been given the Silver Medal by Governor Linden himself. Ed had read it in the Sonogno Times, so it had to be true. An amazing kid he thought. No, he caught himself; she’s not a brainy kid any more. She’s a Senior Blimp Captain. Punky did have one serious flaw however thought Ed. “We all do,” he muttered. It had nearly killed her and six of her classmates just before graduation.
“Excuse me?”, asked the vision. “What did you say?”
Before Ed could answer a high pitched whistle sounded. The vision stood and reached for a black speaking tube attached to the wall that Ed had missed in the darkness. She pulled a little plug from the tube and pressed her ear to the trombone like flange. She turned to Ed, and Ed was again transfixed.
“The Second Sea Lord will see you now,” said the vision breaking the spell and bringing Ed back to his impending doom.
The huge ebonized double doors swung open on their own and Ed looked down the longest hall he had ever seen. In the far distance he could make out a form, sitting at a desk, smoking a cigar, and writing furiously on a pad of paper. Ed gathered himself up and marched quickly toward the Second Sea Lord. As Ed approached the desk he noticed the broad white line painted on the parquet floor five feet in front of the desk. Briskly placing his toes on the line, he stamped his feet, and saluted. Holding his salute he crisply said in his best high seas voice, “Ed Hallard, Captain, Reserve Navy, reporting for duty as ordered, Mam.” The Second Sea Lord continued writing paying no attention to Ed. He still held his salute waiting for acknowledgement of his presence. He knew Admiral Plumblossom was a stickler for naval protocol, the flash cards had said as much. He cleared his throat “ahhahhhm.” Still no response.
The Second Sea Lord finished writing, and without glancing up said “Sit down Captain, your making me nervous, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Ed searched and found a leather chair facing an enormous desk.
Could it be, thought Ed. It was. The rumors were true. The Second Sea Lords desk was carved from the stern of the HMS Infamous. Ed was breathless, and he looked closer. Yes. that was it all right. He could even see the cannon ball pockmarks, and the faint outline of dead sailor’s bodies. Their faces still visible in the long ago faded blood which had flooded the deck at the Glorious Victory of Couscous Bay.
“Ding, ding”, the Second Sea Lord banged a tiny bell ringer on her desk, and a Staff Officer with golden braid seemed to pop out of the wall, as if from nowhere. “Semaphore this to the Airship Impenetrable, Chief Engineer Zhukovsky at the Zippy Yards, immediately and in cipher.” She said. For the first time Ed noticed a portrait of Dr. Maturin hanging on the wall behind the Second Sea Lord. It was a priceless Picosso of the famed but still recognizable Navy Spy. Recognizable that is if you could get past the three eyes and the toothless and toothfull grins. It was done in her Blue Period and must have been worth millions. At least a year’s supply of rum for the entire fleet he thought.
“How are you Captain?” asked the Second Sea Lord. Ed sprang to attention and stood rigid ramrod straight before the desk. The Second Sea Lord leaned back in her leather chair and took the measure of Captain Hallard. There was a long pause before she spoke, Ed dared not to move. A fly buzzed in the distance. Ed felt like dying under the Second Sea Lords steely gaze.
“At ease, Captain, this isn’t a funeral,” she chuckled.
Ed was not sure if this was a joke or a sarcastic remark at his expense in his now greatly shortened life.
Ed stood at ease, and the Second Sea Lord began to speak. “Ed I have been reading your records and I’m impressed. I think the Deep Blue Navy missed a real catch when you entered the Merchant Marine.” The Second Sea Lord, picked up a very thick file, perhaps six inches thick, held together by one of those little tin two hole fasteners at the top. Ed could see dozens of little stickies poking out from between pages. Red ones, green ones, blue. My god, Ed thought, he spied several yellow ones with little arrows and the fateful words ‘Sign Here.”
“Ed I have good news and bad news,” said the Second Sea Lord. Please call me Prissy, please, all my grand children do,” said.
“Yes, Second Sea Lord, Mam,” he responded.
“Well I guess its really wonderful news, and then… well lets to the good part first,” Prissy said. “What size epaulets do you wear Ed? Prissy asked ominously
Before even thinking through the meaning of this pregnant query Ed replied, “12 D, Mam.”
Prissy stood and turned grabbing an old tarnished shoe box and began rummaging about looking for something. The shoe box read Ferragamo. “Ah, yes, this will do nicely, said Prissy turning back toward Ed. She tossed a dark blue object at Ed and he caught it in mid-flight with his left hand. He examined it closely dreading what he already knew in his heart. It was the epaulet of a Commodore in the Deep Blue Navy. They were calling him back to active duty and giving him an unwanted promotion to boot.
“Certainly there must be some mistake,” asserted Ed. “I’m only two months from retirement; I’ve got my beach towels picked out. Sparkel blew a wad on rattan chairs. We bought a years supply of Peanut Oil. My mother is getting …” Ed ran out of gas. The Second Sea Lord was not listening.
“Ed let me be perfectly clear,” she said, as if the facts were not clear enough. You have been activated as a Commodore in the Deep Blue, you cannot refuse. Even old Bobby Fisher could not refuse when we reactivated him, and he was already more than 100 years dead,” she intoned with an edge of the cat in her voice. “No, no, this will not do, Ed. You have no options but to return to the bosom of the Deep Blue.”
Ed was devastated. Then he thought of the other half of the equation. “And the bad news he asked?”
The Second Sea Lord reached across the desk, “Give me the epaulet Ed.” Ed responded.
“Pity you won’t get to wear this,” she said as she placed it back into the shoe box. Ed was really confused now.
She continued, “New evidence has come to light on that ship disaster. What was the name? I’ve forgotten.” she asked.
“Duckpin, Duckpin II,” sighed Ed.
“Ah yes, the infamous Duckpin II. Well we have new evidence of your dereliction of duty.”
Ed stood, his anger building.
“I think you could have saved all of the royals that night, not just IV, and perhaps the cargo as well. Especially the crate in compartment 4B!” said the Second Sea Lord with great authority.
Ed lost his composure. “That’s impossible,” he shouted, “the ship was awash, the captain dead, and all the royals except IV were dead before they hit the water. Princip, wherever he is, would have murdered the whole lot if I had not been lucky enough to get IV to shore and then return for that madman Princip and that lousy dog. Where is this ‘new’ evidence after all these years, where?” demanded Ed. Ed caught himself and stopped talking.
The Second Sea Lord laughed, “Yes Ed the new evidence is here, only here,” She pointed to her head.
Ed was confused.
“You see Ed, I have a critical mission for you. The fate of the Navy and Second Life may well depend on it. And for you to be effective you must be cashiered out of the Service. Disgraced. Humiliated. Made really really small.”
Gods thought Ed, how will I explain this to Sparkle. She’s gonna kill me and I’ll probably end up killing myself first he thought.
“Ed,” continued the Second Sea Lord, “I want you to accept this critical mission before I can fully explain it to you. If you accept, and if you live long enough, we will restore you to your rank and retire you at vice admiral. If you don’t, well you’ll have to serve thirty years on Angel Island. I hear the slop is pretty good there.”
“I’ll fight this,” said Ed already knowing he was lost. “I’ll fight this in the Courts Martial; the evidence is on my side…”
Again the Second Sea Lord laughed, “It’s too late Ed, you were found guilty this morning. In abstentia. It’s done.”
Ed collapsed into the chair. He was screwed and he knew it.
Ed’s heart, kidneys, and spleen stopped, and his bowels began to flutter when the heard the phrase “…the Second Sea Lord…” He was doomed. The marine escort did not move. They remained silent as the grave.
Ed had never met Admiral Priscilla “Old Lead Bottom” Plumblossom, the Second Sea Lord of Second Life and responsible for the Black and White fleets as well as overall Naval Intelligence. Ed tried to think of a joke, but in this woman’s navy there was nothing at all humorous about Naval Intelligence. Ed did however know what “Old Lead Bottom” looked like, every Naval Reserve Officer did from the little flash cards of the faces and biographies of Important Naval Persons that the Navy Board issued from time to time.
“Captain Hallard,” said the vision, “please hand me your me-Comp, you will not need it.”
At this rate Ed thought I may never see it again, or for that matter it may never see me either. Well at least I still have 23 more payments to make. That should make Jobless Steves unhappy, he chuckled. Gallows humor they called it.
Ed looked for a seat, there were none. He glanced about the Long Black Hall but there was nothing much to see, it was completely void and empty except for that great hulking door, the vision, and her desk. Ed did note that the desk was also a void. Not a scrap of paper, a bit of tomato and lettuce sandwich, or a speck of dust blemished its shinny black marble surface. Only his me-Comp occupied the desk.
Ed took a deep breath and tried to think of something calming. Punky. Yes Punky Pugilist, now a Captain for the Blimp Cartel and a former student of Ed’s at the Academy of Balloons. Ed thought back to those happier days.
Ed met Punky as a youthful and naive cadet in her second year – the ‘fledgling year’ it was called in the Balloon Corps. Ed had been called in to teach Emperian Navigation when Professor Hindimith Nolork, Adjunct Professor of Celestial Guidence at the Academy, and Full Professor of the Department of Real Numbers at the University of Sonogno, had taken leave after flying solo from the Isle of Lesbos II, then to Maderia and on to remote Penelope and finally touching down at Sunset Strip before returning to Lesbos II. Nolork had accomplished the impossible. He had circumnavigated Second Life solo. He had taken only a tuna fish sandwich with cornichon pickles and some chips. He had nearly died.
Ed, dressed in his civvies, had entered the Great Hanger of the Academy and had become lost. A very small, but wiry young second year cadet with a ready smile and a look of intensity and pluck, approached him. “Can I help you Captain Hallard? To find the Emperian Navigation Class Room?” asked the cadet. Ed could tell she was a second year cadet by the pin feathers making their way through the soft white down of her cadet’s cap. But how did she know me he wondered?
As he started to form the question, the cadet stood up straight and as tall as her short 4’2” frame would allow and saluted crisply. “Cadet, third class, Punky Pugilist reporting Captain Hallard,” she shouted in a voice far louder than Ed thought possible. “I knew it was you sir, because of the astrolabe in your hand and the name tag,” she said in a firm voice.
Ed could hardly suppress a laugh. This kid was fast though Ed. She’s going to make a fine pilot.
In the following weeks Ed continued to be amazed at Punky’s skills. She was a whiz at mathematics and grasped the principals of Euclidian Navigation very quickly. She was one of the few students who ventured into Non-Euclidian Navigation and Parallelism. She was a champion swimmer, winning the prestigious Coelacanth Award, for swimming underwater undetected for a long long time. Later Ed was to learn that she was a crack shot having come in second place at the Deadeye Competition held annually in the Capital. She had been given the Silver Medal by Governor Linden himself. Ed had read it in the Sonogno Times, so it had to be true. An amazing kid he thought. No, he caught himself; she’s not a brainy kid any more. She’s a Senior Blimp Captain. Punky did have one serious flaw however thought Ed. “We all do,” he muttered. It had nearly killed her and six of her classmates just before graduation.
“Excuse me?”, asked the vision. “What did you say?”
Before Ed could answer a high pitched whistle sounded. The vision stood and reached for a black speaking tube attached to the wall that Ed had missed in the darkness. She pulled a little plug from the tube and pressed her ear to the trombone like flange. She turned to Ed, and Ed was again transfixed.
“The Second Sea Lord will see you now,” said the vision breaking the spell and bringing Ed back to his impending doom.
The huge ebonized double doors swung open on their own and Ed looked down the longest hall he had ever seen. In the far distance he could make out a form, sitting at a desk, smoking a cigar, and writing furiously on a pad of paper. Ed gathered himself up and marched quickly toward the Second Sea Lord. As Ed approached the desk he noticed the broad white line painted on the parquet floor five feet in front of the desk. Briskly placing his toes on the line, he stamped his feet, and saluted. Holding his salute he crisply said in his best high seas voice, “Ed Hallard, Captain, Reserve Navy, reporting for duty as ordered, Mam.” The Second Sea Lord continued writing paying no attention to Ed. He still held his salute waiting for acknowledgement of his presence. He knew Admiral Plumblossom was a stickler for naval protocol, the flash cards had said as much. He cleared his throat “ahhahhhm.” Still no response.
The Second Sea Lord finished writing, and without glancing up said “Sit down Captain, your making me nervous, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Ed searched and found a leather chair facing an enormous desk.
Could it be, thought Ed. It was. The rumors were true. The Second Sea Lords desk was carved from the stern of the HMS Infamous. Ed was breathless, and he looked closer. Yes. that was it all right. He could even see the cannon ball pockmarks, and the faint outline of dead sailor’s bodies. Their faces still visible in the long ago faded blood which had flooded the deck at the Glorious Victory of Couscous Bay.
“Ding, ding”, the Second Sea Lord banged a tiny bell ringer on her desk, and a Staff Officer with golden braid seemed to pop out of the wall, as if from nowhere. “Semaphore this to the Airship Impenetrable, Chief Engineer Zhukovsky at the Zippy Yards, immediately and in cipher.” She said. For the first time Ed noticed a portrait of Dr. Maturin hanging on the wall behind the Second Sea Lord. It was a priceless Picosso of the famed but still recognizable Navy Spy. Recognizable that is if you could get past the three eyes and the toothless and toothfull grins. It was done in her Blue Period and must have been worth millions. At least a year’s supply of rum for the entire fleet he thought.
“How are you Captain?” asked the Second Sea Lord. Ed sprang to attention and stood rigid ramrod straight before the desk. The Second Sea Lord leaned back in her leather chair and took the measure of Captain Hallard. There was a long pause before she spoke, Ed dared not to move. A fly buzzed in the distance. Ed felt like dying under the Second Sea Lords steely gaze.
“At ease, Captain, this isn’t a funeral,” she chuckled.
Ed was not sure if this was a joke or a sarcastic remark at his expense in his now greatly shortened life.
Ed stood at ease, and the Second Sea Lord began to speak. “Ed I have been reading your records and I’m impressed. I think the Deep Blue Navy missed a real catch when you entered the Merchant Marine.” The Second Sea Lord, picked up a very thick file, perhaps six inches thick, held together by one of those little tin two hole fasteners at the top. Ed could see dozens of little stickies poking out from between pages. Red ones, green ones, blue. My god, Ed thought, he spied several yellow ones with little arrows and the fateful words ‘Sign Here.”
“Ed I have good news and bad news,” said the Second Sea Lord. Please call me Prissy, please, all my grand children do,” said.
“Yes, Second Sea Lord, Mam,” he responded.
“Well I guess its really wonderful news, and then… well lets to the good part first,” Prissy said. “What size epaulets do you wear Ed? Prissy asked ominously
Before even thinking through the meaning of this pregnant query Ed replied, “12 D, Mam.”
Prissy stood and turned grabbing an old tarnished shoe box and began rummaging about looking for something. The shoe box read Ferragamo. “Ah, yes, this will do nicely, said Prissy turning back toward Ed. She tossed a dark blue object at Ed and he caught it in mid-flight with his left hand. He examined it closely dreading what he already knew in his heart. It was the epaulet of a Commodore in the Deep Blue Navy. They were calling him back to active duty and giving him an unwanted promotion to boot.
“Certainly there must be some mistake,” asserted Ed. “I’m only two months from retirement; I’ve got my beach towels picked out. Sparkel blew a wad on rattan chairs. We bought a years supply of Peanut Oil. My mother is getting …” Ed ran out of gas. The Second Sea Lord was not listening.
“Ed let me be perfectly clear,” she said, as if the facts were not clear enough. You have been activated as a Commodore in the Deep Blue, you cannot refuse. Even old Bobby Fisher could not refuse when we reactivated him, and he was already more than 100 years dead,” she intoned with an edge of the cat in her voice. “No, no, this will not do, Ed. You have no options but to return to the bosom of the Deep Blue.”
Ed was devastated. Then he thought of the other half of the equation. “And the bad news he asked?”
The Second Sea Lord reached across the desk, “Give me the epaulet Ed.” Ed responded.
“Pity you won’t get to wear this,” she said as she placed it back into the shoe box. Ed was really confused now.
She continued, “New evidence has come to light on that ship disaster. What was the name? I’ve forgotten.” she asked.
“Duckpin, Duckpin II,” sighed Ed.
“Ah yes, the infamous Duckpin II. Well we have new evidence of your dereliction of duty.”
Ed stood, his anger building.
“I think you could have saved all of the royals that night, not just IV, and perhaps the cargo as well. Especially the crate in compartment 4B!” said the Second Sea Lord with great authority.
Ed lost his composure. “That’s impossible,” he shouted, “the ship was awash, the captain dead, and all the royals except IV were dead before they hit the water. Princip, wherever he is, would have murdered the whole lot if I had not been lucky enough to get IV to shore and then return for that madman Princip and that lousy dog. Where is this ‘new’ evidence after all these years, where?” demanded Ed. Ed caught himself and stopped talking.
The Second Sea Lord laughed, “Yes Ed the new evidence is here, only here,” She pointed to her head.
Ed was confused.
“You see Ed, I have a critical mission for you. The fate of the Navy and Second Life may well depend on it. And for you to be effective you must be cashiered out of the Service. Disgraced. Humiliated. Made really really small.”
Gods thought Ed, how will I explain this to Sparkle. She’s gonna kill me and I’ll probably end up killing myself first he thought.
“Ed,” continued the Second Sea Lord, “I want you to accept this critical mission before I can fully explain it to you. If you accept, and if you live long enough, we will restore you to your rank and retire you at vice admiral. If you don’t, well you’ll have to serve thirty years on Angel Island. I hear the slop is pretty good there.”
“I’ll fight this,” said Ed already knowing he was lost. “I’ll fight this in the Courts Martial; the evidence is on my side…”
Again the Second Sea Lord laughed, “It’s too late Ed, you were found guilty this morning. In abstentia. It’s done.”
Ed collapsed into the chair. He was screwed and he knew it.
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