The Ophir (13 page)

“St. Elmo’s fire?”

“Can’t be. No Storm.”

“Aye. True that. They’re almost at level with
the horizon.”

“What horizon? I see only mist. And you, what
do you see?”

“A warning, Capn’. St. Elmo’s Fire with
neither storm nor sound. Low in the water. Not a good sign.”

“Oogooly boogooley, I say.”

“Oogooly boogooly?” Eyebrows cocked,
Contona’s question rippled more of sarcasm than curiosity. Captain
Antonio gave Contona a quick side-glance.

“Yes,
oogooly boogooly
is an ancient
swashbuckling term, used only by people of extreme intelligence.
Try tacking toward the lead ship, Contona.” A moment of mirth shone
in his eyes.

“No wind, sir.”

“Belay that order. No wind. Strange.”

“Oogooly boogooley’s a fair accurate
description, Cap’n’.” Contona’s features remained stoic.

Captain Antonio coughed into his cupped fist.
“Indeed, Contona. Indeed.”

“Oars in the water? Put their backs into
it?”

“My thoughts exactly. Make it so.”

The semi-circle changed its formation, and
was now a square. No matter which way one, or any of Antonio’s
ships tried to row, the galleons would shift to keep them trapped.
As the Ophir turned toward the widest corner opening of the square,
the warrior monks maneuvered their ships into a triangular
formation and closed the gap. They were caught in a net, and the
net was being pulled tight.

“Do you hear oars? They move much faster than
we do but make no sound.”

“Aye. But, the lights stay on that one
ship.”

“I noticed. Give the orders.”

Contona envisioned the Ophir rowing hard
toward the ship presumed to lead the opponent’s fleet. His silent
message was heard; it was followed by the sound of oars dipping
into the still ocean. The ship stayed in place. It could move in
circles, but neither forward nor back.

Antonio telepathically signaled his men to
stay firm; war galleons, rams at ready, dropped anchor. The Ophir’s
boatswain’s mate was directed to lower the bombastic Jolly Roger
and hoist the flag of a neutral nation. Captain Antonio’s curiosity
peaked and, unable to penetrate the shielded minds of the foe,
asked for parley. He couldn’t board without invitation.

* * * *

The winds that pushed the Ophir in a northern
direction around the west coast of Spain and France had ceased as
suddenly as it started. The waters became calm; the fog lifted just
enough for murky vision within the triangle.

The ocean seemed to be glowing from the
bottom up. It was an unnatural light, illuminating the immediate
area of the lead galleon alone.

Powered by neither man nor wind, that ship,
boasting no flag, broke from the formation of twelve and moved in
close to the Ophir.

A deep, but gentle, voice spoke into the
Captain’s left ear. It whispered that he would herald a new
beginning for the world, if he would but choose to do so.

“You have been chosen above all others
deemed worthy of this sacrifice. A new order will rise and you will
rise with it as vanguard. The question before us is ... are you
prepared to give everything to the one and only true God?”

Antonio looked around to see if anyone else
heard the voice, but his men were mesmerized by the sight of the
ship that dwarfed theirs by a full third. The ship sailed in close
enough to board.

The Ophir’s Captain no longer practiced his
religion, but he’d not forgotten it, and was also enthralled by the
ship as it shimmered before his eyes. He fought the compunction to
make the sign of the cross. That he should do so would be
laughable.

“Come”
said the voice. “
We will
talk of things no man knows, save us. We will share these memories
with you, that you might understand why we have chosen you, above
all, to honor
.”

“Honor? I stand proud before you in the
number of lives I have consumed, the treasure we’ve accumulated.
Can you boast as much? We do not fear you!”

“Captain Antonio, we do not seek your
fear
.”

“You can mind speak? Are you a new tribe?
Identify yourself! How do you know my name?”

“We know the name of all. We know all
events that have happened or will happen. The Akashic Records hold
everything from the beginning of time, till the end of time. Will
you hear us
?”

“Akashic Records? Of what do you speak?”

“Come aboard, Juanito, and we will
talk
.”

Captain Antonio was taken aback by the use of
his familiar name. Only his father ever used his familiar name.
Only his father ever knew his familiar name. The Captain felt
tired, very tired. There was too much to decipher. He moved toward
the railing but took no step.

* * * *

Sometime later, Captain Antonio awoke from
his stupor. He felt thick tongued and dull. He had no memory of
boarding the other ship, and yet he knew he’d done so. He sat at
his desk but could not remember going to his quarters. His last
memory was that of standing on deck, watching a thick fog rolling
toward them.

The ship lurched sideways; the Captain went
forward to see about the ships business. Had a storm blown in
without sign? Had they been hit broad side by one of those freak
waves perhaps?

Just as he reached for the latch leading to
the outside passage, it burst forward with such force that the wood
splintered. Tremendous pressure was building in his head. He
believed his head would shatter just as the door had done; he used
his hands to keep the shards of skull from spraying the room. The
Captain staggered toward his bunk, and reaching it, fell
forward.

* * * *

Shortly thereafter his first mate and several
other crewmen came to the door, drawn by the loud wail emitted from
the Captain’s throat. Seeing the Captain lying there, unfocused,
they backed out and went for the ship’s doctor.

The doctor, who was more for show than use,
went to see why these underlings were so shaken. The doctor was
pressed into service, ten years prior, from a Spanish galleon
sailing the waters off South America. Captain Antonio had had the
good doctor’s tongue cut out within the hour.

At first, the doctor wondered how he could
service anyone without a tongue with which to speak. He soon
discovered that no one spoke aboard the Ophir, yet communication
was clear and punishment swift for unwarranted thoughts.

When Doctor Crimper looked into the Captain’s
eyes, they were glassy and unresponsive. The Captain looked
straight ahead with just the hint of a working mind showing in the
frown he would alter with raised brows. He seemed to be listening
to something no one else could hear.

The doctor shooed the observers back out to
the ship’s deck, and ‘thought’ his orders of privacy for the
Captain.

“I thank you gentlemen for your quick
response. As you can see, the Captain has fallen ill and needs
rest. His responsibility to you is a matter of great concern to us
all. Please, go back to your duties and keep the ship upright. He
needs time.
We
need time to analyze and wait for a
correction of his condition. I will keep you posted on his
progress. If any others begin to feel the ill effects of this
environment, let the purser know. I will get to you as soon as I
can.”

The sailors smiled. They knew their bodies
would suffer no ill. They were startled to see one of their own,
the most powerful among them, behave in such an erratic manner.
They trusted that they would be informed in time. Out of respect
for the Captain, they bowed and backed out of the ship’s suite.
They would not challenge the doctor’s orders for fear of incurring
the Captain’s wrath. Crimper was under the Captain’s protection and
violating the Captain’s rule would bring them to a quick death by
Antonio’s own hand. The men could not understand why the Captain
favored the doctor so, but none would dare question his
authority.

Taking a chair close to his patient, the
doctor took up vigil and waited for the Captain to return to his
former state. There was little else he could do. He wondered what
could have brought this man to such a condition. He couldn’t do a
mind probe. He didn’t know how. He couldn’t ask questions. He’d no
tongue. So, he sat and reminisced about his childhood in a country
known as Alamein.

* * * *

The warrior monk never revealed his identity
to Captain Antonio, but his mind to the oath taken as Knights
Templar was open:

“We the Knights of Christ and of the Temple,
follow the destiny that prepares us to die for Christ. We have the
wish to give this rule of living, of work and of honor to the
constructors of churches, so that Christianity can spread
throughout the earth, not so that our names should be remembered,
Oh Lord, but that your name should live.”

The monk passed all the knowledge gained over
two hundred years to Antonio. He instilled fervor for things of
antiquity. He extracted an oath from the Captain to help them in
their mission to preserve the name of Christ, knowing that when the
time came, he and loyal followers would be included in the
re-discovery of the Templar treasures. This would ensure his wealth
and authority over the treasure at a time much farther into the
future, a time when the world would be in great need of
salvation.

Captain Antonio was told that the Templars
had sworn to protect the treasures hidden by religious leaders from
every continent known. They were led, by the Copper Scrolls
discovered at Quamran, to the most precious of all treasures, the
Ark of the Covenant. It was this last treasure that the captain of
the Templar war ship entrusted to Captain Juan Antonio Patiño. His
orders were to take it to Lemuria, for safe keeping, until the
second coming of Christ. And thus, Captain Antonio would be given
passage into Paradise for doing the will of God.

They had read his mind, and knew that what he
wanted more than anything now, was to be mortal again, to walk the
land once more. He wanted his yoke removed.

* * * *

The crew noticed that the Captain became more
and more withdrawn as time went on. They attributed it to mental
illness. When heard in low conversation with the unseen, they hid
their thoughts of mutiny from him, but not his first mate. They
themselves had no memory of the time spent in the area that would
later be known for its anomalies.

“Cap’n, I know you’re experiencing changes.
Before it reaches a dangerous point, I ask permission to stop
possible mutiny. Appoint me as Captain in your stead. I can quell
an uprising and control the crew.”

“There will be no dangerous point. But I am
dealing with strange forces. Perhaps you are right. Assigning the
position to you will give me the ability to decipher the messages
without concern. I must concentrate.

You’re a good First Mate, a better friend and
know this ship as well as I do. Taking these steps with my
permission will prevent my being voted adrift and protect the
Ophir. Call a meeting. I will resign and give my vote of confidence
for the crew to follow.”

They didn’t experience the spiritual dominion
of the Cistercian monks, nor the physical healing the Captain had
been given, nor could he tell them. He could not influence them in
their decision. He hoped that they would make the right choice.
Should they choose to go to Lemuria, their passage and
transformation was also guaranteed. He did not know how, but the
Ark would affect them at a molecular level. It was imperative that
thoughts of mutiny be quashed. Without a willing crew, the Ophir
might never complete its mission.

* * * *

“It is with a gladdened heart that I come to
you today.” The pirate crew stood still as they listened to their
captain.

“I have sailed the oceans of the world and
explored places unknown to man. We stood side by side in battle.
You have never let me down when things became strange even to us.
You’ve taken me at my word and I at yours, adventure after
adventure. Everything moves in one direction or another and we do
what we must to survive. But for me, the time has come for a new
path. On this path, I am but one more traveler.

As with all journeys, precautions must be
considered for the sake of safety. I must step down from my
position as your captain in order to ensure your safety as well as
mine. I ask only that I be allowed to complete certain requests
made prior to my resignation.

We are a democratic culture. A vote must be
taken for a new leader. I give my vote to your boatswain’s mate,
Contona. You know him as well or better than you know me. But if
there be another among you that believes himself to have what it
takes to handle ship and crew as well, let them step forward and
put his name on the ballot.”

The men swayed in place with the movement of
the waves. Their voices clamored for a cause. Some were
disgruntled. Others saw the fairness. None protested the change;
the vote was taken. Contona became Captain of the Ophir.

* * * *

Captain Antonio learned many things, but he
believed that it was those things that might or might not be true
that created hope. That Lemuria was a true place gave hope to many
things. That the Knights Templar would continue their vigilance for
the world gave hope.

The encounter with Captain Villiers of the
Templar war galleon erased many questions, but each answer created
more questions, and renewed hope that they would once again have a
legitimate place in the world

“Antonio, this will not be an easy passage,
neither for you, nor your men. You have been chosen guardians of a
most precious gift. Its delivery into the hands of the Lemurians
will guarantee a life unparalleled in this world, riches beyond
imagination without the burden of property. I can’t give you a full
understanding in short time. I can only tell you to have faith.
Only through faith will you enter the door held open for you.”