CHAPTER 4 - GHOST SHIPS

Following the rescue of Bradford Cananticle Monforte IV, Royal, Dauphan of Second Life, Associate Professor, famed historian, Head of the Anti-Monarchist Party, and the defeat of the Mother Superior Adel Flossberg’s plot to restore the monarchy and return the bloody Druids to dominance in a new Second Life, Punky was asked by the Chair of the Blimp Cartel to take a rest and perhaps teach for a quarter at Punky’s alma mater – the Academy of Balloons. Punky was thrilled to accept, but was a bit concerned when she was made Acting Professor of Flight Instruction. Punky knew she was fully qualified, but the position was one of great responsibility and rather than having a few carefree months carousing with cadets, Punky faced the heavy responsibility of training new pilots in the arts and crafts of lighter than air flight.

Punky thought back to her instructor in flight at the Academy when she was a cadet. Professor Raphus “Old Bird Brain” Cucullat, had been in charge of flight training for centuries and his nickname was not intended as an insult. It was the highest accolade the cadets at the Academy of Balloons had for a man whose flight skills were as natural and beautiful as a bird in flight. But Cucullat had gone missing on a solo flight from the Academy Aerodrome to Bulgogi less than 10 sims distant.

A furious and comprehensive rescue effort had been launched, and blimps large and small, and even a few intrepid flying carpets, had searched for two weeks before giving up. The professor had disappeared without a trace. He had been flying in a relatively new blimp of the Raven Class, the HMS Revenge, and there was no better maintained ship in all of Second Life than those in the Academy fleet. Old Bird Brain was considered missing, but now more than a month had passed and everyone assumed the worst.

When Punky showed up at the Academy to assume her Acting Professorship they had given her Old Bird Brain’s office in the Petrosaur Wing of the Sibley Building. Punky said she could not possibly take that office out of deference to one of her favorite professors, but the superintendent told her that no other offices were available.

Punky, skeleton key in hand, opened the door to the professor’s office. Everything was as she had seen it when she was a cadet. Only the student folders lying in a neat pile on the desk were different. The office was crowded with stuffed birds and airship models. Certificates and awards were piled in one corner of the office near the only window. The professor had little use for awards and often used them as door stops or student party favors. Lining one wall were pictures of graduating classes. Punky counted 63 pictures. She looked hard and saw her class. She was flooded with memories both happy and sad at the picture which she had not seen in years. There was her graduating class, all 24 of them, so proud, so happy, so young thought Punky. There was Tanner Tallow, Lisa Bumblebum, Mickey Stellup, and the whole group. What a great group they had been. Punky’s happiness at looking at the picture was still shadowed by that day before graduation when she almost got Tanner, Lisa, Mickey, and three other junior cadets killed off the Elbow coast near the Sea of Dreams.

Punky went to the first picture in the series and there she found the graduating class of the Chair of the Blimp Cartel, her boss, and her new friend. He looks so young thought Punky. First in his class realized Punky because he was standing at the far right in the position of honor held for “the best of the best.” More like a stool she thought, as she laughed. The Punky looked at each picture of the long line of graduating classes. She paused for a moment to look closely at the graduating class which had preceded her by five years. Some one had defaced the picture. The glass was missing and one student face had been completely obliterated. That’s odd thought Punky, and first in the class as well. Punky carefully read the list of names. Loopy Loo it read - the name of the defaced cadet, first in the class of 17, and now with a face that could not be seen. I wonder, thought Punky.

“Ahum,” said a voice at the door.

Punky turned and saw Professor Mickelberry standing in the door dressed in her academic robes. Over her arm she held a black and purple robe with a purple velvet floppy hat. She looked peeved thought Punky.

Punky snapped to attention. “Punky Pugilist, Senior Blimp Captain, reporting for duty, Mam.”

Professor Mickelberry laughed. “Punky don’t call me Mam, please call me Monica. We’re peers now.” Then Monica burst out laughing at Punky’s discomfort.

“Yes Mam, Professor Monica it is then,” said Punky.

Monica tossed the academic robes and hat she was holding into Punky’s arms. “Your gonna be late to your first class Punky. You better hurry up. Room 14 B at the Aerodrome.”

“Today? I have a class today?” asked Punky.

“Yes, and if you don’t rush you will be late,” said Monica.

Once dressed Punky ran across the quad like a black and purple banshee, her hand holding down her floppy purple hat. She had turned right rather than left in the Aerodrome classroom complex, and within moments was hopelessly lost. Lost in a building in which she had spent over four years of intense study.

A cadet, dressed in his second year fledgling cap, came running down the hall. She spotted Punky and skidded to a halt.

Snapping to attention she said “Captain, I mean Professor Pugilist, the classroom is this way, Mam.”

“Oh yes,” said Punky “I was just admiring the new paint on the walls over there,” she said pointing to a dingy stained wall that hadn’t been painted in years. “Lead on Cadet,” said Punky, “lead on.”

The classroom was packed. The room was full of both those taking the required course in Flight 101 as well was students from all the other classes who filled the remaining seats and spilled into the hallway. Several professors dressed in their academic robes were sitting on the dais waiting for Punky. She recognized Professor Dohh and Professor Noh who taught navigation and map reading. Those were courses which Punky had ‘aced’, but had proven of no real value in overcoming her greatest personal failing.

As Punky entered the classroom the students burst into applause and the two professors rose and nodded to her.

Punky was confused at all the attention, but then she remembered that The Times had extensively covered the revolt to restore the monarchy and they had somehow totally exaggerated her role in foiling The Orders evil plans. Sindy Blazer, the Yellow Knights, or even Ed Hallard deserved more credit that she, but there was no explaining the press.

Punky walked to the lectern and the students fell into silence. As did Punky because she had not brought her lecture notes and was totally unprepared. Punky decided to fall back on the professor’s old standby when faced with lack of notes. “Well, since this is our first class,” said Punky, “I think it best if I get to know you and you get to know something about me.”

Hands everywhere shot up. “I really don’t want to talk about the recent incident, the press had it all wrong, and frankly I’m tired of all the foolish attention,” she said. Two out of more than fifty hands went down. That’s a relief thought Punky.

She pointed to a skinny cadet with bright yellow hair in the second row.

“Sally Mae, Cadet Third Class, Mam,” she said. “Id like to know about Tek’s radical boiler designs. Are they really that fast and still stable?”

She was about half way through the lecture hour when one student asked an always troublesome question.

She had pointed to a very young very tall cadet named Wilbur Hallard. He looked a little familiar to Punky.

“What’s your opinion on the secret sims, the ghost sims?” Hallard asked.

Punky paused for a moment knowing full well that Professors Dohh and Noh had called the secret sims or ghost sims crazy and a popular myth like UFO’s.

Punky thought hard not knowing what to say. Then she spoke.

“Well I simply don’t know. I’ve seen a lot of strange things while flying throughout Second Life. Some can be rationally explained, others remain a mystery. For example, Ghost Ships, those I have experienced and even though they are troubling, very disturbing in fact, they do have a scientific explanation.”

“Tell us,” said Hallard. Punky then realized it was her old friend Ed Hallard’s son.

“Well I was flying old T32 the ‘Guppy’ out of HOTO testing a new navigation system,” said Punky. “Let me make this very clear, it was a dark night, but not a stormy night,” she continued.

“As you will soon learn, sim border crossing is usually safe and uneventful, but occasionally there are problems, such as no fly sims previously unmapped, new sims full of server confusion and bugs, and well, what must simply be programming errors by Lindens. We had left HOTO and flew through the very empty sim of Io and then paralleled Clissa. We did not enter Clissan airspace. You don’t want to do that ever. Well about 20 sims out to the north we came upon the very dangerous border of Rossa. As we hit the border, and as we were passed from the exit sim server and into the Rossa server we stalled out. We had about thirty seconds before we would be deleted. I told my co-pilot Tanner, and engineer Lisa to bail. We were stuck hard on the barrier and the 30 second clock was counting. Tanner and Lisa made it out safely,” Punky said.

Punky drew in her breath and continued, “Then in desperation to the save the ship I tried the SRB maneuver – Start Restart Backup.” Several senior students gasped and others shook their heads. They knew thought Punky, they knew how desperate the maneuver was. “Well it worked,” said Punky. “But then we froze. The ship would not move. I gunned the engines and checked the gages. The Guppy should have moved but she would not budge. It was pretty bad.”

Punky hated this story and to this day it always bothered her. “I looked about and there outside the port window was another blimp perhaps a meter away. Number 32 it said with ‘Guppy’ written on the nose. She was a ghost ship.”

The students leaned forward. “Then I did something really stupid,” said Punky. She noticed that Professor Noh frowned because he had been on the review board for the incident many years ago. “I went to the rear hatch and saw that I could easily jump to the rear hatch of the ghost ship. Then I jumped. I can't say why, but I did.”

The fourth class and third class cadets were fascinated Punky could tell. They had no real experience flying Blimps across unwelcoming sims or buggy borders. The more senior students showed real concern for Punky’s narrative.

“I landed on the deck of the Ghost Ship. She was an exact duplicate of the Guppy, but everything was wrong. She was all distorted and I could see the engines turning and the gages wiggling but there was absolutely no sound or vibration at all. I tried calling out but no sound. I advanced toward the pilots cabin and there to my surprise I saw a young third year cadet sitting motionless in the pilots seat.”

Punky looked out at the students. She hated this part and it gave her nightmares to this day. “The pilot then turned to speak but no sound could be heard. I was shocked to see that the pilot was I.”

The fourth class and third class students looked shocked, and the senior cadets seemed to understand. Strange things happened in the skies of Second Life.

“Well, I got out of there real fast. I was really scarred,” she continued. “I got back to the ship, the real ship, and tried the SRB again. That time it worked. I flew like a bat out of hell from the sim of Rossa. I’ve avoided it ever since and I advise that you do the same,” concluded Punky.

One hand shot up amongst the silence. Punky pointed.

“But what about secret sims, the ghost sims? You didn’t say anything about them” young Hallard asked again.