The team spent the next two days repairing, refitting, restocking and replacing various items both on board the Deliverance and in Joan’s campground at the Gardens. Word back from the WSU raved about the varied amount of botanicals available, and made the request of both Joan and the group to start packaging different botanical products, for later pickup. Frick and Fran were tasked to make a computer ready for Joan, so she could speak and see with the botanicals crew on the Rhine Forest to learn how to prepare plants for potions. That did not take long to do. Getting two generators, putting together a fuel purifier, putting a shack up to put the generators in, programming the computer and setting up the Internet link took an extra day to do properly.
Finally, early morning on the twelfth of June, the Deliverance crew were ready to set sail, next port of call, Fort Myers. After saying good-bye to Joan, they pulled out, Frack taking the conn from the bridge, with Bernie at his side, to learn how the boat worked.
As the Sunshine Skyway came into sight ahead in the distance, Frack asked Bernie, “Feeling any better, now that we’re heading out?”
Bernie stared out into the bay from behind her shades. “The farther away I get, the better I’ll feel, I HOPE,” she said, emphasizing the last two words. She continued, “It’s been hard this past week. It’s like my emotions are on a roller coaster, going from hardly there to over-dominant.”
Frack grunted. “Yeah. Like when you went over your truck and found all your welding gear was ruined. Just how did you get that piece of equipment stuck into the side of that one hulk?”
“I kicked it. Hard. Venting my fury and rage at losing something important to me,” Bernie said in a near-growl.
“How’s the hoof?”
“Getting there. Fred fixed the worst of it, but it still aches.”
“Good. Think you can take the conn for a while? I’ll monitor from back here, from the tablet. Just watch the maps and gauges, and trust the autopilot.”
“I can do that, Frack.”
Frack went to the back of the bridge and sat down on a cooler. Pulling out his tablet, he proceeded to put Bernie through the wringer on engine and navigation faults they had encountered on the trip. Bernie took it all calmly, reporting each fault she detected, and when asked, either told or demonstrated the proper recovery procedure. When he was done, he went up to hug Bernie with a wing. “You did very well indeed, for someone who said she wasn’t much into boating.”
Bernie’s reply was to hit Frack under the chin with an uppercut from her wing. “What in Hell’s own province was all that about?” she said harshly.
Frack rubbed his chin with a fetlock. It didn’t so much hurt as surprise the hell out of him. “Just wanted to make sure you knew what to do, is all. I know damn well you’re not dumb, but now that you passed, we can put you in the watch rotation. Foster went through the same thing,” he said in explanation. “Frick can be fiendish. I’m polite.”
Bernie went back to watching the coast of Florida as the boat cruised southeastward towards Fort Myers. “I bet you had some problems with this boat once you got to the Gulf,” she stated.
“Aye, just a few, lassie,” Frack said in his Mister Scott voice. “Glad we no encounter rocks in the river. Those big catfish though…” He shivered, remembering the one from Saint Louis.
“The one you said was bigger than the boat?” Bernie asked.
“Got a couple of pictures, if you want to see,” Frack offered.
“I’ll pass, thank you. Big enough stuff out here,” Bernie gestured with a wing, at the land off to port, and the glittering blue sea to starboard.
“May they keep their distance. Going to be hard enough to fix this boat if anything happens. That’s why we’re fanatical about maintenance, doing oil checks and such routinely, as well as filter changes and fuel quality,” Frack explained.
“All that I can understand,” Bernie said before lapsing into silence, splitting attention between controls and the seascape in front, just like he was driving his old truck.
Frack, reading Bernie’s mood, said quietly, “I’ll be in the pilothouse if you need anything. Fran will relieve you at noon,” before heading downstairs.
Bernie sat at the controls, mind whirling. Losing everything, well, everyone else has. They found this boat and built it up to what is here now. If they can do it, so could she. If they were not there, she would have drowned at the bottom of Tampa Bay, unable to release the seat belt, tangled in too-big clothing.
She shivered at that thought, of drowning in the dark and muck of the bay floor. They ARE good people, Frack especially. Flying is so much fun, and she surprised him with her skill. At least they can take her pranks in good humor, especially hanging from the catch bar. Bernie smiled at that. She didn’t SEE Frick’s expression, but her sonar gave her enough of a view to make it hard for her to pretend to sleep when the others came up. Yes, give them a chance. Plus, an opportunity to go to the Netherlands, a place her parents told of, but she herself never got to see. Being fluent in Dutch would HAVE to be of help.
It was well after six p.m. before the Deliverance pulled into the part of Fort Myers Frick was looking for, the north end of the island where Fort Myers Beach was located. From there, he piloted the ship (it was his watch, until eight, where Fred would take over) up a channel, looking for his target, the Getaway Marina. Not only would that be the best chance to refuel, it was also not too far away from a Wal-Mart where they hoped to resupply.
Thanks to the extra-long June daylight hours, Frick managed to moor at the fuel pumps before darkness fell. “Bernie, want to take a scout about? The Wal-Mart is right up this road, and I want to see if there are any vacant docks up by the end of the road. If there are, scavenging will be that much easier,” he asked the thestral.
“Golly gee, you trustin’ me to solo now, Cap’n?” Bernie drawled in reply, a slight smile on her face.
“Ah sure do, Bernie! Yuh done earned it! Now, grab a radio and head out. Think you can be back in an hour?” Frick countered the drawling response with one of his own.
“Uh, huh! Ah shore will, Cap’n!” Bernie said, taking a radio from its charger and turning it on before giving a sloppy wing salute and heading out the back door.
“Nice to see she’s fitting in. Been a bit worried about her,” Fred said from his seat in the back of the saloon.
“She’ll adapt, Paw,” Frieda said from the galley, where she was preparing a large pot of macaroni and cheese with the last bottle of goat’s milk, with peas and corn mixed in. Fran was upstairs, preparing some goat meat and fish crumbles to add into the carnivore’s portions. “Just give her time.”
Bernie took wing and followed the road north. The Wal-Mart was not hard to find, following the main road. There were plenty of open boat docks closer to the end of the housing area, so moving the Deliverance would not be an issue. She soared over the section of town as darkness fell, enjoying the peace and serenity of the calm, if muggy, night. Off in the distance she saw the Deliverance’s navigation lights come on, which she welcomed because while her sonar did work, she was not practiced with it, and low-light vision does NOT mean NO-light vision. Several long, lazy swoops around the area of the city later, satisfying herself there was nothing to see, Bernie made her way back to the Deliverance. She didn’t want to miss out on the mac and cheese!
From under an awning at the Golisano Children’s Hospital, a black Abyssinian kitten clung to the forelegs of a zebra wearing a doctor’s coat. “They’re that way,” the kitten said, pointing southwest.
“And the fly lord is the other way, Michie,” the zebra said calmly. “They, and we, will be alright tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll see about going to see them, okay?”
“They good, Doctor Malala. The fly lord is not. Fly lord better not finish what he started. We not like it,” Michie whimpered as the doctor reached her head down to nuzzle the kitten.
“Let’s get some sleep, Michie.”
Bright and early the next morning, the Deliverance crew was hard at work, getting the fuel purifier set up and primed, the bicycle and wagon set up on shore, and the four non-flyers drew lots to see who would remain with the ship. Foster drew the bad lot, and wound up with the duty for the day. The three fliers were put on hunting detail, to find game for the carnivores. As Frack explained to Bernie, their job was to spot for Frieda, who Frack readily admitted was a better shot than anyone on board. “Even back when we were people, Frieda was a damn good shot.”
The three fliers took wing and started their hunt. The hardest job was to find undeveloped ground that wasn’t under water! Finally, after some circling, they found some east of their docking area. Crossing, re-crossing and criss-crossing the area seemed fruitless, until Bernie’s sharp ears picked up some strange sounds coming from the edge of a clearing. Investigating, they found the source of the sound, a sow pig with a litter of rather big piglets. Problem being, where there’s a sow, there’s a boar. A BIG boar. A big boar not happy with some wing-flapping strangers near his sow!
The three moved off to the far side of the clearing and landed. “Those piglets look to weigh in at about twenty pounds apiece. How can we separate one from the rest without getting ourselves killed?” Frieda asked.
“I have an idea,” Frack told the group. “Frieda, you give overflights and stoops. I want you to scatter them. Bernie, try to lead or chase some of the piglets into the clearing and stun one with your sonic cry. I’ll swoop in and grab the stunned piglet in my hooves and fly off. We’ll meet in that small clearing west of here to kill it, and Frieda can carry it back to the boat for butchering.”
The other two thought about the suggestion. “Where are you going to position yourself, Frack?” Frieda asked.
“I’ll duck into the trees behind the hogs. Once they start running, I’m hoping they will scatter out into the clearing. When I see one go down, I’ll charge out, take wing and snatch it on the run. Deal?” Frack outlined.
Frieda shrugged. “I’m willing to try, for some fresh meat. What about you, Bernie?”
Bernie pawed the turf with a hoof, thinking. “Okay, let’s try it. If this doesn't work, we’ll try something else, right?”
“Right!” Frack agreed. “Frieda, you head south and put yourself where you can see the pigs. When you see me come up behind them, that’s when you start. Bernie, you go when you feel fit. Don’t target us with the cry, just the pigs, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll do my best!” Bernie giggled before taking off. The others followed and took their positions. When all was set, Frieda stooped.
They say no plan survives first contact with reality, and it happened here, too. The first swoop, Frieda’s scream caused the pigs to scatter in all directions. Three headed straight for Frack, who jumped to let them go by, kicking one in the head with a back hoof, stunning it. He grabbed it in all four hooves and fled, taking to the air.
The sow, however, ran straight for Frieda with blood in her eye. Startled, Frieda mistimed her swoop, and went far closer to the ground than she wanted. Bernie, seeing this, let fly a scream that stunned the sow, it falling over before getting to where Frieda passed.
“I got one! Scatter-zoom!” Frack yelled as he grabbed air, the porker hanging from his hooves. They flew to the clearing where they had the conference, Frack dropping the stunned pig before landing.
“Didn’t go as planned, but it worked. I’ll take this back to the boat, you two do some more scouting around. Got it?” Frieda told the others.
Frack and Bernie glanced at each other before saluting Frieda with their wings. “Right, Maw!” they chorused before taking off in separate directions. Frieda just shook her head as she picked up the stunned pig and took off, returning to the Deliverance to do some butchering.
Meanwhile, at the Wal-Mart, Frick, Fred and Fran stopped in the parking lot by the front doors, Fran helping Fred unhitch while Frick opened the doors. “Excuse me, people, but someone’s been here already,” he announced.
“What makes you say that, Frick?” Fred asked.
“The door opened easily. TOO easily, if you ask me. Normally, I would have had to push a lot harder to get the door open. The door tracks have been cleared out, mainly from the door being opened and closed a few times,” Frick pointed out, using his glow to highlight the tracks and the junk that had been pushed aside.
“Looks like we have neighbors. Everyone, lights on and search carefully. Don’t want to startle ‘em,” Fred said casually, turning on his own headlight once free of the harness.
“Stay together or split up?” Fran asked.
“Split up. We’ll find clues faster that way,” Frick said, picking a direction. He headed to electronics, Fred to hardware and Fran to groceries, where they all found traces of ‘selective shopping’, items disarrayed, gaps on shelves, some items scattered on floors. They all gathered back in electronics to compare notes.
“I found some interesting items taken off the shelves,” Fran reported. “Beef jerky, beef stews, canned meats of all sorts, oatmeal, canned vegetables, stuff like that. I’m willing to bet there’s a non-pony in the bunch.”
“You could very well be right,” Fred said before reporting on what he found.
“I just hope we can find some other traces of them. Would be nice to learn the lay of the land from a local,” Frick grumbled. News of others can be a pain in the planning.
“Be careful what you wish for, Mister. You can get it,” came a woman’s voice from a doorway leading to the storage area of the store. The door swung open, to reveal a zebra dressed in a doctor’s coat and badge, with a black Abyssinian kitten on her back, clad in a dark blue T-shirt that went down to its knees.
“You do have a point, madam. Who do we have here? I’m Captain Frick of the motor vessel Deliverance, with me is my First Mate, Fred, and my Technical Officer, Fran,” Frick said in introduction.
“I’m Doctor Malala Hutchins, and my friend and rider, her name is Michie. I was about to go off duty when poof, I’m a zebra!” Malala said with a laugh. “I stayed at the county hospital, scavenging what I could. Michie showed up some time later.”
“How did you know we were here?” Frick asked.
“Michie. She can see events before and while they are happening. It’s been a life saver, what with the Fly Lord running about,” Malala told the three, her face going grim.
“Fly Lord?” Fred asked, immediately picking up on the doctor’s worry.
“That’s what I call it. Every few days, a large fly comes buzzing in and goes to the airport, carrying something that…” she paused, looking for the words. “Glows black, is the best way I can say it. They fly to the airport east of here and go into a hangar. The only time the Fly Lord comes out is to open the doors to the hangar, then shuts the door again. Have you ever seen the movie, ‘The Fly’?”
“It looks like a mix of a man and a fly?” Fred asked.
Malala nodded. “Close enough, if the man is a good ten feet tall. I’ve only seen it at a distance.”
“Oh, spiffing…” Frick muttered. “Would you like to help us scavenge, then come with us to the boat for a hot meal and some chat?”
Malala looked at Michie, who nodded eagerly. “We would be delighted to accept. Anything special you are looking for?”
“Just general supply restocking. The wagon’s parked out front,” Fred said.
“Good! May I bring our cart around?” Malala asked. “I brought some supplies from the hospital you may find useful.”
“Sounds like a good idea!” Frick said happily.
“Doctor Malala, can I go with the other kitty? She’s nice, like all of them!” Michie asked.
At Fran’s smile and nod, Malala agreed. “Ready to get off?” she said before sitting down, letting the kitten slide off. Michie raced to Fran for a hug.
“Ready to help me shop, Michie?” Fran asked.
“Yeah, Miss Fran! I show you where good stuff is, and smart stuff is!” Michie squealed happily.
“What’s smart stuff, and you want to ride in the cart?” Fran asked.
“Smart stuff will help keep the Fly Lord away! Yeah, wanna ride!” Michie said, raising her arms to be picked up. Fran put her in the shopping cart she was using and moved out, heading back to the grocery section.
As they passed the Pest Control aisle, Michie pointed down it. “This way!” she squealed.
Confused, Fran pushed the cart down that aisle. “Why here, Michie?” she asked.
“Something to use against the Fly Lord!” Michie said, pointing not at the Raid or Orkin cans, but at something else.
“A Bug-A-Salt gun?” Fran asked, incredulous.
“Not the gun, but the salt! You’ll need a way bigger gun to get the salt to the Fly Lord!” Michie told Fran.
Fran thought about what Michie said. She picked up the gun and looked it over, thinking. She then put it in the cart. “Something to think more about, Michie. Now, anything you would like?”
“Chicken in a can!” Michie said without hesitating.
“I think I can swing that!” Fran said with a smile as she headed to that aisle.
An hour later, everyone was gathered back at the Deliverance for lunch. Fran and Michie were up on the bridge, where Fran was preparing some of the pork while Michie enjoyed a hot chicken sandwich for once. “Doctor Malala doesn’t like having meat around her!” she complained to Fran.
“Neither do many of the others. Only Missus Frieda and I really enjoy meat, while Mister Frack and Miss Bernie like fish,” Fran explained as she worked on taking what Frieda had not cut up from the piglet into roasts, steaks, and even grinding some.
“Why?” Michie asked.
As Fran tried to explain, the others were downstairs, enjoying coffee, soup, yesterday’s rolls, and in Malala’s case, companionship and conversation. “What’s in Key West that’s important?” she asked.
“It’s not so much Key West, it’s Havana. Key West is just a way station between here and there. Havana is where the ponies and others are. There, we are to meet up with agents of the World Seafarer’s Union. When one of their ships pulls into Havana for trade, we are going to get aboard, pick up some of the others we have found on our voyages, then head for Rotterdam, where their headquarters are,” Frick explained.
“They have guided and aided us remotely since we Returned back in December,” Fred added. “Frick got a world-band radio working and started listening. He found them right off and decided to head downriver, so we did. We found this boat a few days later, and it made for better cruising downstream.”
“Heat, light, clean water, yes, we got lucky finding this boat,” Frack said. “We take care of her, and she takes care of us.”
“Speakin’ of takin’ care, Doctor, what sort of doctor are you, if’n I may ask,” Foster put in.
“I’m a radiologist. I interpret X-rays, CAT scans, MRI readings, stuff like that. When I’m not needed in radiology, I help out doing general medicine. I came down to Florida for med school, and decided to stay after graduating. They made a reasonable offer, so I did all my residency and post-grad work from here. I hate the cold!” Malala explained, shivering theatrically before sipping some coffee.
“Where are you from?” Frieda asked as she brought the soup pot over for refills.
“Buffalo, New York. After graduating high school, I applied to several schools here in Florida, and accepted a scholarship at the University of Miami. Never been back,” Malala explained as Frieda put another dipper full of hot, fragrant soup into her bowl.
“Well, you can either come with us to Rotterdam, or stay in Havana. How’s your Spanish?” Frieda asked.
“Better than average. I spent a lot of time in Little Havana doing volunteer work. Didn’t hardly speak a word of it when I got there, but by the time I graduated med school, I was fluent in it,” Malala explained before picking up her spoon and having some soup. “I’ve missed hot meals!”
“We can well imagine that, Doctor Malala,” Frick said. “Given that, would you like an all-expenses paid trip to Havana? There, you won’t be alone, you’ll have help with Michie, and you can get back to being some sort of doctor again. You could just stay in Havana, or come with us to Rotterdam.”
Malala sipped some soup, looking thoughtful. “Sure you’re willing to take us? Seems like you’re full up already,” she stated, her gaze going from one pony to another.
“We’s not sayin it’s gonna be a pleasure cruise, but, we can get to Key West in one daylight surge, camp in Key West for a day or so to refuel, then it’s a hundred miles to Havana,” Foster said from the pilothouse.
“In Key West, it should not be too much trouble setting up a tent or two to camp in, so it won’t be so crowded in here,” Frack added.
“To get away from the Fly Lord, all I can ask is, ‘When do we leave’?” Malala asked.
“Within a few days at most,” Frick said with confidence. “Refueling is slow, and processing enough to fill our tanks takes time to do it right. Now, tell us about the Fly Lord. Is it something to worry about, or can we ignore it?”
Malala had some more soup before answering. Putting a chunk of bread in to soak, she said, “Michie is scared of it. It has not done a thing to us at all. I doubt it knows we are here, or if it does, it doesn’t give a good god damn. I have to admit, those dark crystals the flies bring in every few days do scare me. One came in the day before you came in, so the next should be here tomorrow, maybe later today.” She then got the bread out of the soup and took a big, soggy bite.
“Is there anything regular about the dark crystal deliveries?” Bernie asked.
“Just that they all arrive during the day. Whatever those crystals are, from the time the fly gets near to when it is put up, we try to remain unnoticed. Once, I worked up the courage to go to the top floor and look. Just once,” Malala managed to say. “That’s how we know what it looks like.”
“No wonder why you asked for a ride out. Why have you been staying?” Frick asked.
“Several reasons,” Malala replied. “One, we would have to walk. Two, with Michie on my back, there would not be enough room left for supplies. Three, there’s a lot of nothing between cities, and I never liked camping. Four, I’ve lived here for over twelve years now, and it’s my home. If I ride with you, I won’t have any nagging urge to remain here.”
Frieda asked, “What do you know about Michie?”
“Not much. Some time after I became a zebra, I was in the hospital when I heard a child crying. I tracked the cries to Emergency, where I found her in a heap of clothing far too big for her. When I came into the room, she raced to me and grabbed onto my forelegs and would not let go for a good twenty minutes,” Malala explained. “She said her name was Michie, she’s four years old, she had a ‘big ouchie’ that went away when she became a kitty, and she’s been my shadow ever since.”
“Somehow, I think she’s become Fran’s shadow now. Will that bother you, Malala?” Fred asked in his gentle way.
Malala shook her head vigorously. “Not in the slightest! I’ve never been a mother, and she’s not like me in any way. If Fran can bring her up to be all she can be, I won’t object at all. They’re both cats. Like attracts like, right?”
“That’s true. You’re only the second zebra we’ve encountered on our travels. The first one ran the Saint Louis group we found. She’s rather determined, but is also a good leader and organizer. You and her share a lot of traits,” Fred observed.
“I hope that’s a good thing, Fred!” Malala laughed, the others joining in.
“Oh, it is. Suzanne’s a dynamic, forceful leader. Maybe, while we’re in transit, we can get her on the radio and the two of you can talk for a while,” Fred suggested.
“That, and learning how to operate a tablet and laptop without hands,” Malala added drily.
“Oh, it can be done, Doctor. Just takes time and effort to do. I run things that way when I’m on duty. If an old sexton can learn, I have no doubts a young, smart doctor could learn very swiftly indeed,” Fred said in very positive, uplifting tones, which had its desired effect on the zebra.
“If’n ah may ask, Frick, what can we do about the Fly Lord?” Foster asked.
Frick didn’t hesitate in his reply. “We don’t know enough to ask the right questions. Let’s see what happens when the next delivery occurs. If we all don’t scatter in a blind panic, I’m sure I can come up with something.”
Just then, Fran’s voice came over the intercom. “Frieda, Frack, report to the bridge. Michie says a fly is coming.” she said.
The two summoned got up and headed upstairs. Frick looked at Malala. “Shall we go see, Doctor?” he asked.
“Yes,” the doctor said, getting up. “Michie’s far more sensitive to the flies than I am. If she feels a fly, one’s coming.” Together, they went upstairs.
Fred and Foster exchanged looks. No words were passed, but Foster went to the arms locker and pulled out the high-powered rifle while Fred went to the pilothouse and activated the gun systems. Bernie, for her part, went with Foster to the after deck. She understood why Fran didn’t call her, the Florida sun would wash out her distance vision.