Art:AADM/Second round/The Smuggler
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The Short
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I glared at the hangman, eyes narrowed against the setting sun’s light, as he read aloud my sentence, but my mind could not focus on his words; instead, I was forced to relive the ultimate humiliation of the crime for which I had finally been brought to the gallows: smuggling bananas. | 
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The Smuggler (Bulwer-Lyttony) | ||
The Entry
I glared at the hangman, eyes narrowed against the setting sun's light, as he read aloud my sentence, but my mind could not focus on his words; instead, I was forced to relive the ultimate humiliation of the crime for which I had finally been brought to the gallows: smuggling bananas. As the man droned on, I relived those carefree days, from their glamorous beginnings to their painful end.
My short stint as a smuggler began a few months ago, when a few of my
friends and I had a bit too much to drink. We reasoned that pillaging and
playing poker just wasn't cutting it, PoE-wise, and put our heads together
to think of a plan. Then it hit us. Prolix Purlieu had been having a banana
shortage as a result of the almost constant event blockades, and we could
make a fortune from illegally running the blockades and selling the valued
bananas at two or three times their normal price.
With this haphazard plan in our minds, we set out from Lima, sailing blindly
down to Prolix. A heated battle between several frigates was taking place in
the blockade, so we skirted the dangerous center of the board, instead
taking the safer path along the side.
Our sloop pulled up to the dock, sails squared, ropes taut, and Jolly Roger
snapping in the wind. The hungry islanders clustered around, holding up
stacks of PoE and shouting. I waved graciously to the multitude, pulled out
a banana, and flourished it in the air. The crowd went wild.
We distributed bananas and collected the profits, our pockets jangling with
the sweet sound of gold. Occasionally when we passed each other, groups of
rich scurvy-ridden islanders hard on our heels, we would wink and smile
knowingly, then turn and hand out bananas.
Life was good. When Prolix calmed down a little, we moved on, every starved
island welcoming us with open arms and open wallets. We made more money in a
few short weeks of banana smuggling than the past year of pillaging.
But, like all good things, it couldn't last. One of our more cowardly
co-conspirators changed sides and became an Ocean Master. Though surprised
at such an awful turn of events, we continued our smuggling undaunted.
One terrible day, about two weeks ago, the Plain Sild pulled into Sakejima
Island for a routine restock. We loaded up rum and cannonballs, and were
about to get started on the bananas for famine-stricken Viridis when a voice
as hard as steel said, "Drop the bananas and nobody gets hurt."
We obeyed, shaking with fear as a huge shadowy figure with a blue name
approached. The sky darkened and shadows covered the island, making it look
like skeletons were attacking. I whispered out of the corner of my mouth,
"Get ready to fight. It's better than what they'll do to you if we
surrender."
A shiny cutlass appeared from nowhere in the figure's hand. "If it's a
fight ye want, it's a fight ye'll get." He whistled, and twenty more
Ocean Masters sprang out of hiding.
I gripped the hilt of my saber, sweat beading on my forehead as I surveyed
the scene. We were outnumbered and surrounded, with sharpened steel glinting
on all sides. There was no way out.With a bellow like a cornered
bullfighter, I leapt forward and drove my sword into the man's leg.
He laughed, a horrible maniacal sound that weakened my knees and left me
gibbering on the ground. Leaning forward, he whispered, "It's wooden,
mate."
My friends were standing behind me, watching. A menacing glance from one of
the Ocean Masters made them drop their weapons and flop down on the dock,
waiting to be trussed up like turkeys and thrown into the hold of Aye Spy.
They took us to Typhoon and imprisoned us in the fort, with only bananas to
eat. "Have a taste of your own medicine," they laughed.
The others were only jailed for a month, as they hadn't actually assaulted
an Ocean Master. My fate was to be the gallows.
The scratchy hemp rope being placed around my neck jolted me out of my
reverie. The hangman finished his speech, and said in a loud voice, "For
these crimes, Chavytoffer is to be hanged by the neck until dead."
Not if I can help it, I thought grimly. The executioner's hand was moving
towards the lever that would spring the trapdoor and send me to my doom. I
looked at the assembled pirates, some with their hats off out of respect,
and yelled, "Now!"
A knife whistled through the air, neatly severing the rope and freeing me
from the noose, Clint Eastwood style. As an added bonus, it struck the
hangman in the neck. He collapsed with a strangled gurgle. Paying him no
heed, I leapt to the ground and set off at a dead run for the water,
shouting insults over my shoulder as I went.
Before me was my lovely Plain Sild, waiting like a loyal dog for its master.
I climbed aboard her and set sail. Leaning against the navy and red painted
sides, I said conversationally, "That was some throw, Piere."
My good friend Piere scampered down from the crow's nest. "I've been
practicing."
He gestured towards the shore. "Look at those lubbers. They won't get a
ship out until we're past Harmattan."
As if in open defiance to Piere's words, a fleet of ships sailed out from
behind a jutting cliff. We gaped in astonishment. The ever-present Aye Spy
was at their head, closely followed by Secret and El Pollo Diablo. Piere
backed up against the mast, trying to flee the dreaded Black Ship. Though it
could be beaten, with just two people we didn't want to try.
"Why did they send out El Pollo Diablo?? We're not that important! Egads,
look at all the scammers and hackers around and they're worried about a few
banana smugglers. We're pirates! It's our nature!"
I tapped Piere on the shoulder. "Personally, I'm more afraid of the Ocean
Masters. They could just ban us... I wonder why they're going to all this
trouble?"
He shrugged. "Pass the rum."
I angrily grabbed a flask and smashed it against the side, careful to not
damage the paintwork. "We're being attacked by skeletons and Ocean Masters
and you want rum?! We're on a sloop, we can outrun them! Go sail!"
Piere said, "It seemed the best way to calm down. I'd rather die drunk."
"I'd rather not die at all."
He conceded that being alive really was better than being dead, so we sailed
and navigated like Davy Jones himself was after us.
Soon, I shouted, "There's Erh!"
We zipped past Erh Island, watching the enemy fleet shrink to little specks
on the horizon, then vanish altogether. "Alright, now we can have some
rum," I said.
The leagues flew by. Harmattan, Cochineal, and Napi Peak were soon put to
our stern.
Piere scanned the ocean. "Not a sail in sight. Let's stop at Surtsey, we
need more rum."
"Surtsey?! We're headed west, towards Moab."
Looking askance at me, Piere inquired as to our course. "Why not go east?
There's open ocean and uninhabited islands for the next hundred leagues."
I smiled evilly. "You'll know soon enough."
Several islands later...
"Land ahead!"
Piere collapsed the spyglass and swung down to the deck.
I was consulting my charts. "It's Olin's Brow, right?
Piere said, "Of course." After a pause, he asked, "Do you know why it's named that?"
"No idea."
"Because it looks like Australia!" He laughed.
"We've got to be careful." I said seriously.
"Why? The Ocean Masters didn't follow us."
"Maybe they didn't follow us, but Queen of Shadows is ported here...I think we should get going."
Piere saw his chance and took it. "Ah, yes, but where?"
"The edge of the world, of course! This is the last island before the waters from every corner of Viridian cascade in a majestic waterfall into the unknown underneath us," I said dramatically.
"Is the unknown an especially good place to be?"
"Well, if you've got skellies and Ocean Masters chasing you, anywhere's better than here. And we really have to leave. This is a particularly watched island, because they don't want anyone to see what's under the world. It's the last great Garnet stronghold of the Ocean Masters, so they guard it well."
"Egads!" Piere yelled. "Look!"
Looming behind us was the fleet sent all the way from Typhoon. A stentorian
voice boomed out to us, "Surrender immediately or we'll sink you! All
that'll be left will be little bits of bone and wood and a lot of blood."
I called back, "That's a bit gruesome," at the same time whispering to
Piere, "Tell someone who's pillaging to attack a blue ship."
"But... El Pollo Di---" Then the penny dropped. "Ohhhhhhhh, I get it!" A few moments later the Black Ship vanished, off to take the place of a defenseless blue somewhere leagues and leagues away.
I grabbed the ship's wheel and turned her prow towards Aye Spy and Secret.
"This should be interesting," I said.
The Plain Sild sped in the direction of the enemy, about to slip between
them and wreak havoc with gunfire. Or so they thought. At the last second, I
turned left and sailed off as grappling hooks bound the Ocean Masters'
ships together instead of us.
"Yeehaw!" I whooped.
Piere downed a bottle of rum. "On to the great unknown!"
I awoke in the wee hours of the morning, two days after the great Battle of
Olin's Brow, a thunderous rumbling sound filling my ears. Since our
victory, we had been steadily sailing west, following the route marked on my
extremely rare chart drawn for me by an old salt at the inn.
The noise covered everything, from the creaking of the mast to the water
rushing along our sides as the Plain Sild sailed full speed to the far
reaches of the uncharted west. Groggily, I rolled out of my bunk and
clambered up to the top deck.
I headed to the bows, careful not to trip over the empty bottles of rum
littering the deck. In front of the ship was a huge white cloud.
It took me a moment to realize that the cloud was actually spray thrown up
by the giant waterfall at the end of the world. That moment was all the Sild
needed to stop listening to me and start letting nature have a say.
We rushed forward, the ship heedless of my attempts to turn about. Though
it looked lovely on a map, I was having second thoughts now that I saw the
end of the world up close.
With a sickening lurch, the ship tipped forward, pitching me into a crate.
I slowly rose to my feet, careful to hang on to a rope. Feet pounded on the
deck, and then I heard an "Egads!" as Piere skidded to a halt beside me.
In front of us was eternity. White upon white upon white, with a ceaseless
rumble in the background. If it wasn't for the ocean spray constantly
drenching me, I'd have assumed it was heaven.
A final push was all it took to send the Plain Sild hurtling into the
unknown beneath the world, with two very frightened pirates in tow.
Three days later, we were starting to get bored, not to mention sopping wet
from the constant spray.
After the initial shock, we had gotten used to tying ourselves to long
ropes and crawling around the deck. It was actually kind of fun to let go
and fly around in the air. The hatches, once opened, became splendid seats
to watch the whiteness go by and wonder what lay in wait at the bottom.
We were of divided opinions on this. I was firmly on the side of the
"parallel ocean" theory, which stated that underneath every ocean was
another one exactly the same, but with different people. Piere argued that
it was obviously nothingness, as we had been falling for so long with no end
in sight.
How wrong we were.
At around four in the afternoon, I was trying to get Piere's rat,
Camembert, to say something besides "Squeak" and "Peep", to no avail.
Piere was emptying a flask of rum and singing a shanty.
And, for the first time in days, something changed.
The rumble grew louder, to a thunderous roar that deafened me and muted
everything. Piere's mouth moved soundlessly as he yelled something to me.
I looked down. Beneath us was... something dark.
As we fell towards it, it became clear what we were facing.
Rocks. And lots of them.
I shouted as loud as I could, "Hang on!", then tied myself tighter.
I don't think Piere heard me, but it didn't matter. About five seconds
later, we were both in the air. The Plain Sild, or at least splinters of it,
were with us.
Somehow, when we hit the rocks, we flew out of the ship and landed safely
in the churning water between them. It alternately sucked us under until our
lungs were about to burst, shot us forward, or dragged us back towards the
bottom of the falls.
Then it settled into a nice forward motion. I leaned back and floated on
the water, as the rocks were behind us.
Piere poked me and pointed. I followed the direction of his finger.
"Oh. No." I said.
In front of us, stretching at least a league across, was a giant whirling
maelstrom of water and shards of wood, the cursed wood of shipwrecks.
Beginning to mix with it were the pieces of my good old Plain Sild.
The green water, flecked with white horses, spiraled relentlessly downward
to the bottom of the sea. I nodded to Piere, grabbed a small piece of my
ship for good luck, then took a deep breath and went under.
"WeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEE!"
It was like a whirpool hot tub, but a lot stronger and colder. I swirled
down... down... down.
Water filled my lungs, choking me. The end is near, I thought, dismayed.
But suddenly, my toes touched sand. It was not the cold, wet sand of the
ocean floor, however. It was the parched, sun-baked sand of the beach.
I pulled my head downwards and collapsed to the warm, dry sand, gasping for
breath. Beside me Piere was doing the same. I squinted up, the sunlight
hurting my eyes after all my days without it. An innocent blue sky looked
back at me. I glanced down at the ground. An innocent golden beach looked
back at me.
This was too much for my brain to handle. Where did the whirpool go? I fell
back down and writhed for a few seconds.
Piere, standing beside me, said, "Are you quite done?"
Looking up, I said, "Yes, I rather think so."
I jumped up and, gazing around, remarked, "You know, that parallel ocean
thing turned out to be right after all, didn't it? This looks a lot like
Typhoon Island."
Suddenly the full meaning of that simple phrase hit us like a grand
frigate's full broadside.
"Chavy!!!!" yelled Piere.
Then I realized something. "The people are different though!"
"Maybe the mortals are, but we sure aren't," said a deep, horrid voice that reeked of insanity.
My hands were grabbed roughly and bound together with a scratchy hemp cord,
and a gag was tied around my mouth, to prevent "any funny business with
knives."
Piere and I were marched up the beach towards The Eye. Outside that
notorious fort were two identical gallows poles, the nooses hanging from
them like the gaping, empty eyes of Death.
It's going to be fine, I thought to myself. We'll escape. That's what
always happens in movies.
The Ocean Master led us to our posts under the ropes. A hangman, clothed
entirely in black, began to list our crimes. As his monotone voice
continued, I rolled my eyes, clearly saying Spare me this horrible fate!
Anything's better than listening to that again.
Someone in the crowd voiced my thoughts aloud. "Get on wif it!"
Murmurs of assent rippled through the crowd. With a glare, the hangman
rolled up the scroll and stepped towards Piere's side.
"For these crimes, Piere and Chavytoffer shall be hanged by the neck until
dead!"
A cheer went up from the crowd. Bloody-minded scurvy dogs! I thought.
The executioner pulled the lever. Piere glanced at me one last time, then
plunged to his fate. I heard his neck snap like a rusty sword. His feet
kicked in death spasms, then his body fell still. The crowd cheered again.
This is it. It's not a movie. This revelation brought me to my senses. I
twitched and jerked my hands, but couldn't get free. And this time, no one
would be waiting in the crowd with a knife at the ready.
The hangman's hand reached for the lever... I tried to stop him, tell him
"No, don't do it! This is all wrong!"
He ignored my silent pleas, and instead put his hand around the lever and
yanked downward. The trapdoor fell from under my feet, and I plummeted to my
doom. It was the longest fall of my life, in reality a few short inches, but
in my mind lasting longer than the drop off the edge of the world.
Tightening around my neck, the rope cut off my windpipe in a vise-like
grip. Air... air! I screamed inside my head. But no air was forthcoming.
Nothing would save me now.
I was vaguely aware of a sharp pain in my neck, but my life ended before
the full force of my injury hit me.
As the world faded to black and my soul drifted out of my body, my
disembodied mind wondered where I was going... Heaven? Hell? Nothing?
A pinprick of light appeared in the endless blackness. It widened,
splitting the darkness from end to end with piercing rays of light. I would
have smiled if I had a body. This was definitely heaven.
Suddenly, a booming voice said kindly, "We apologize for the
inconvenience. You are being redirected."
The light receded, and my world was dark once more.
And then I was back at Typhoon Island. I stood up groggily and looked
around.
There was the hangman, the Ocean Master, the happy, rapidly dispersing
crowd. There was Piere (Oh, good, he made it too!).
There was me again. And there was Piere again.
There was also something wrong.
Piere's lifeless body was being cut down from the rope. Piere was standing
next to me watching. I shifted my gaze to the right. I was dangling in
midair, face contorted and purple, neck at an odd angle.
And then everything was clear to me.
We were dead.
I raised my arm slowly. It was there. But it was also almost transparent
and tinged with blue.
I laughed. "We're ghosts, Piere!"
He turned towards me. Instead of a wispy blue phantom like I was, he had
become a greenish, flesh-eaten zombie.
The straggling crowd suddenly spun around as a whole, and marched back
towards me.Hanging off their bleached bones were rotting strips of flesh.
Eye sockets gaped in raw ivory skulls, and mouths mirrored the fearsome
grimace of Death.
To my dead eyes, everything took on the shape it would be once deceased.
Skeletons, zombies, and ghosts replaced regular pirates.
"The horror...the horror!" I ran away, away, away from it all, towards the
ocean, towards freedom.
I skidded to a halt just before my ectoplasm touched the water crashing on
the weathered tombstones of rocks, or to live eyes sand, of the beach.
Instead of its normal calm green, the sea was bright red. Red like blood.
