3rd Prize Winner Great Waters A Kiki's Delivery Service Fanfiction by Allyn Yonge Prologue Captain James McGrath balanced easily on the rolling deck, gnarled hands firm on the wheel, as the "Niagra" 'hauled in' twenty leagues of longline. A sudden _crack_, like a pistol shot brought his head around in time to see a number-ten hook whiplash off a parted line, slamming up through Sven Gunnerson's chin, erupting through his left eye. Two men leapt to hold the screaming man down, trying to staunch the flow of blood while a third ran for the fo'c'sle. "Busch!" The burly sailor halted at the captain's call. "Grab the signal lamp and send someone to the masthead." Niagra was too small to carry a radio, but someone else in the vast fishing fleet might be close enough to read a heliofore message . Busch nodded and dashed inside. "And finish hauling in!" McGrath ordered, as Gunnerson's screams subsided to low moans. The nearest doctor was at least a week's sailing. In the meantime, it didn't matter if it were God, the Devil or the Captain himself on the end of that hook; they had fish to haul. ****************************************************** Kiki stood, just at the surf line and watched the swells roll lazily ashore, trying to dismiss the funny leaden feeling in her stomach. "I'm not sure I can do this," she admitted reluctantly. "I've never flown that far before . . ." "Sure you have," Tombo rebutted, eyes sparkling behind round glasses that dominated his face. "You flew that load of lobsters to the governors mansion, and that's over twelve hundred miles. This is less than seven hundred." He knelt down on the sand and began sketching a diagram. "And you don't have to fly round trip----" He tugged her down beside him and her fingers itched to smooth his tousled hair and she resolutely shoved them in her pockets. When had his shoulders gotten so broad? She tore her eyes away and tried to concentrate on his diagrams, finding herself fascinated instead by his hands. They were so strong and clever---- "Kiki? Are you alright?" Tombo touched her arm in concern. The young witch tried to ignore the funny fluttery feeling in her tummy. She'd been getting a lot of those lately. Maybe she was coming down with something. "Y . . .yes. I'm fine." She tried to distract herself by focusing on the little gold medallion pressed into the foot of her broom. The mayor had presented it to her---- a flying witch catching a falling boy, a broken zeppelin in the background . . . " . . .it's too choppy to land a flying boat. So the coast guard asked the liner 'Kronprinzessen Cecilie' to divert to here," he made a mark in the sand. "and the 'Niagra' is coming this way," he made another mark. "So you'll only have to fly to the Niagra, them carry him about . . ." he thought for a moment, "a hundred miles, Captain Brunel?" He looked questioningly at a figure standing silently to one side. What made it really special, was that Tombo had made it himself . . .she found herself thinking about his hands again and jerked guiltily, hoping no one noticed her blush. "About that, yes," replied the man in a blue and gold coast guard uniform. "But . . .what good does that do him?" Kiki tried not to think about all those miles of empty ocean. "It's still going to take days to get him to shore." "The 'Cecilie' has a doctor on board" Captain Brunel said, "and she's much faster than a fishing schooner Not to mention that it will be much less traumatic than trying to make a transfer by boat, on the open sea." "But that's not the _best_ part," Tombo interrupted, his body fairly quivering with excitement. "Once you get him to the 'Cecilie', we can fly him off with the gyrocopter!" "What's a jyry . . uhhh . . .gery . . .ummm . . .what is it?" "It's great!" Tombo enthused, "you can take-off almost straight up, and fly backward and sideways" He grinned at Kiki, "and land on the deck of an ocean liner. We can fly both of you back home!" He was so enthusiastic, Kiki thought, watching his animated gestures. That was one of the things she lo----liked . . .one of the things she liked about him. "I've never flown so far over the water . . .not out of sight of land before. My mother could probably look at a picture of the boat, or touch something that belonged to one of the crew and her magic would lead her right to them." She looked down at her toes. "I'm not that strong." she confessed, a little ashamed. Thinking about it, another lump joined the first in her stomach. Then they got together and had a bunch of baby lumps. "Modern science to the rescue," Tombo produced a heavy grey-box, about the size of a loaf of pumpernickel bread and proceeded to fix it to the front of her broom. "All you've got to do is follow the way the needle points . . ." he tried to explain about radio waves and triangles, but she got distracted by a the way his hair curled up around his collar and forgot all about the family of lumps in her tummy. ****************************************************** High above the pewter coloured sea Kiki rode a tail- wind toward the Niagra. A lone skua passed her as it headed shoreward, rasping 'hah-hah-hah' at the empty water and it left her with a funny empty feeling. Sitting in her little room above Mrs. Osono's bakery watching the waves roll in was very different from flying above miles and miles of . . .miles and miles. She felt brief chill and looked up to see a dark cloud scudding across the face of the sun. Switching on her little radio, she crossed her ankles beneath the broomstick and leaned back, turning her face to the sun as the jaunty tune blared across the sullen ocean. "I'm boarding the train alone, leaving to meet my boyfriends mother . . ." A sudden gust of air smacked her in the face and she unconsciously corrected her course, smiling a bit at the memory of a time when a much smaller gust had sent her crashing into a grove of trees, which had gotten chased by a flock of crows. " . . .my boyfriend should have noticed the message in rouge in the bathroom . . ." Another gust and she moved forward, adjusting her trim and checking the squat grey box tied to the front. Maybe in a few years she could just look at a picture and instantly find a person or thing. For now she would trust in Tombo's gadgets. And Tombo. " . . .I wonder if he's asking questions of all his friends. asking them where have I gone?" ****************************************************** Kiki wriggled, trying to find a more comfortable position and stretched her arms with a satisfying crack. She was a little stiff and she was starting to get tired, but so far it had been and uneventful if boring trip. She was starting to get a little cold. Rolling her head to stretch a kink she happened to look behind her. A little whimper escaped her lips and her bones turned to water as she saw the sky black with clouds, like the maw of some gigantic beast, lit with flashes of lightning. Leaning forward she put all her energy into flight, trying to outrun the beast before it devoured her. ****************************************************** Cold rain had turned to sleet as the black clouds closed around her like the walls of a tomb. Needles of ice slashed at her exposed skin and howling winds yanked her up a thousand feet, then smashed her down again. A bolt of lightning exploded from the clouds, blasting a foot of broom, and Tombo's machine, into nothingness. Blind and deaf, she screamed in terror as she tumbled through the blackness, unable to tell which way was up. Another bolt illuminated a nightmare sea, scant yards before her death dive impacted the waves. ****************************************************** Shielding her face from the driving sleet with a fold of her dress Kiki fumbled in her bag for another magnesium flare. Blind luck had saved her and she'd skipped along the surface, like a stone, until she'd been able to stagger back into the air, terrified beyond all hope---- but alive. She'd tried to climb above the storm----and a great fist of hot lightening charged air had slammed her from the sky. . Roaring up behind her the storm was growing in intensity and the only way out was ahead. Toward the fishing fleet. Captain Brunel had given her a half-dozen flares. She just hoped there was someone out there to see them. ****************************************************** Tombo was wearing a hole in the carpet as he paced, waiting for the next weather report to come over the teletype. A gust of wind rattled the windows and a spray of rain scooted under the door frame. He moved to the big window that faced the ocean and stared into the towering thunder heads, willing a small witch-girl to appear out of the clouds on her way home. ****************************************************** She had come so close to missing the fishing boat, tiny in the immensity of the storm. She'd dropped her last flare and their answering signal-rocket had been almost invisible against the swirl of snow, storm and lightning. Frantic to get out of the sky that had turned so deadly, she fell from the sky toward salvation . . .and almost impaled herself on the mast. Kicking away from the plunging vessel she tumbled in a gust of wind, then wrenched her broom around in a desperate sprint to catch the speeding ship. Trying to settle on the rolling, plunging vessel was like trying to thread a needle blindfolded while riding in the back of a cement mixer. She was exhausted, the freezing spray dragging her down until she felt like she was mired in glue . . .all she wanted to do was sleep. A wave-top slapped her with the force of an icy fist, shocking her awake. With her last burst of strength she lunged for the plunging deck, and the rising deck slammed her like a freight elevator. Her broom went flying from her hand while she skidded helplessly along the icy deck; to shoot through the scupper like a seed from a grape. A bolt of lightning illuminated black, white-capped waves and the frigid water closed over her like a burial shroud. Something punched her in the side, and she shot to the surface like a cork. Or a gaffed fish. "E'ah . . .tha's got a reit strange catch, J'nathan." Kiki dangled limply on the end of the steel hook that tangled her black dress. As her exhausted body surrendered to darkness she thought she heard a voice, strangely gentle for all that it sounded like a bucket of gravel. "E' is a stout un, for all is nowt but a lass." ****************************************************** #SOS . . .SOS . . Kronprinzessen Cecilie . . .engine flooded . . . drifting helpless . . . SOS . . .SOS# The sturdy brick building shuddered as storm surge flooded across the floor of the Coast Guard center. # . . . flooded . . .down by the stern, barque Virginia . . .SOS . . .SOS . . .# White-faced, Tombo listened as the airwaves crackled with messages of disaster. #boats smashed . . .flooding . . .for god's sake help us# As fast as they came, messages were sent on by courier; all the lines were down. #SOS . . .SOS . . .hatch caved in . . .SOS . . .cable parted . . .drifting . . .SOS . . .steering jammed . . .SOS . . . . . .sinking . . .SOS . . .SOS . . .# ****************************************************** "Ohhh," Kiki squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself as another surge thrust her against the rail of the bunk. "what happened?" "Tha' thought ta go swimming.". "I remember . . .a boat . . .I hit----my broom!" She jerked up, eyes darting around the small cabin. "where's my----" "In ta' corner, lass. All right an' tight." Kiki looked into the gloom, barely lit by a swaying lantern to see her broom and bag, neatly stored in a little cubby. She turned toward the sound of the voice."Thank you-----oh!" she said in a very small voice. "Is a bad business" Sven Gunnerson chuckled weakly, " tha' I'm ta' biggest catch o' th' trip." Kiki swallowed hard, them made straight for her bag, or as straight as the rolling deck would allow; caroming off the walls like a billiard ball. "This will help." She gently dripped the contents of a green bottle onto the raw puffy skin surrounding the hook protruding from the remnants of Sven's left eye. "Thank'ee lass," A cool numbness replaced the grating ache that had whipsawed him for the past days. "tha's marvelous good." "It will help with infection, too," she said as steadily as possible, ashamed that she'd been afraid to make this trip. "This will restore your blood and help you to sleep." She pressed a sponge soaked with medicine to his lips, waiting a few moments until his eyes fluttered shut. Her soaking dress had been replaced with a man's shirt that hung below her knees. Looking around she found and quickly put on a yellow slicker and a well worn pair of seaman's boots, many sizes too large, before lunging up on deck to find the captain. ****************************************************** "Tombo! Come on. We've got to get out of here." Captain Brunel commanded, pulling the young boy into the lee of a sheltering out-building. "NO!" Tombo broke away from his friend and struggled through the knee deep storm surge, back toward the rapidly flooding radio building. "Kiki's still out there. We've got to keep the transmitter going." "Tombo, don't be stupid----" The stark look on Tombo's face made him pause, then he went on more gently. "you can't do her any good by staying here." "She didn't want to go." Tombo ignored the hold on his arm, staring blindly into the distance. A house-sized wave hit the distant breakwater and exploded in a giant jet of white foam. Moments later, a dull boom rumbled across the quay followed by a subterranean trembling. "I talked her into it. She trusted me . . . now she's out there----" "Come on boy," Brunel tugged the struggling boy with him as the wind began to rise again. "The Admiralty Point transmitter is still operating. We'll go there." Another wave, larger than the last smashed into the breakwater and Tombo moaned, as if he'd been struck. ****************************************************** "What's that!" Kiki screamed over the storm, pointing at a trail of sparks raising off the ocean. "Ship. In trouble." McGrath altered course. Running close hauled, Niagra plunged through the roaring sea like a drunken grey- hound on the downslope of hell. All too soon they came on the terrible site of a giant liner, going down by the stern. "My God, it's the 'Princess'!---- look there!" he pointed through the storm. Illuminated by flashes of light, six small boats could be seen sheltering to lee of the ship. "They've emptied the bunkers of fuel, to hold down the sea." Between one moment and the next the big ship vanished. Bereft of her sheltering bulk the tiny life-boats were at the mercy of the shrieking wind, which pounded and scattered them. "We've got to help them!" "We can't," McGrath's hands tightened on the wheel. "We can't pass a line in these seas." The life-boats seemed small and futile in the rise and fall of the big seas. The shrieking howling storm was terrifying enough in the relative shelter of Niagra's wheelhouse. Huddled in the bottom of an open-boat as mountains of water roared out of the blackness to smash you under---- "Get me a rope!" Kiki was already throwing off her slicker and boots. She could fly better without them. ****************************************************** "PULL!" Bo'son Swain screamed, "FOR CHRIST'S SAKE ----PULL!" The men, and three women, at the oars were giving their best. It just wasn't going to be enough. Nothing human could fight this hellish storm----- "GRAB THE ROPE!!!" A dark shape whizzed past his head and a coil of line slapped him in the chest. Without thinking, he grabbed it and was almost yanked from the boat, only being saved when three of the passengers snatched him by the legs as he started going over. An instant later the line had been made fast at the bow, and the number-four boat was in tow, behind a fishing boat, while Swain tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. ****************************************************** Twenty years as a hand-liner, pulling fifteen fathoms of line hand-over-hand, eighteen hours a day had given Busch shoulders like an ox. He could carry three-hundred pounds of halibut under each arm and people got out of his way when he walked down the street. Twisting his thick hands in the line he heaved, feeling his shoulders crack with the effort to pull against the storm. He couldn't see into the blackness of the storm, but the red-rag tied to the line told him how much was still played out. The thick line twisted and vibrated like a live thing as the gale tried to tear it from his hands. He set himself and heaved again; not enough. What the storm took, it didn't like to give up. After five hours of this, even his enormous strength was nearly finished. Then he thought of what _she_ was going through. Wrapping the line around his arm he heaved one last time and Kiki flew out of the black night to slam into his chest. Instantly he wrapped his arms around her naked body, turning to shelter her from the worst of the storm and wave. In the light of the emergency flares she looked ghastly; her lips were blue and her body was one raw wound. It sickened him to imagine what she must be feeling, soaked in brine, and he could only hope the cold kept her too numb to feel anything. "H . . .how many . . .more?" she forced past a jaw swollen almost shut after she'd slammed into a lifeboat. It might be broken, but she'd lost all feeling hours ago. "One more," Busch reluctantly answered. McGrath had already altered course, beating to windward of the final boat. Busch made his way forward, carrying the witch child. Standing in the bow he carefully judged wind and wave, then ignited a new flare and hung it beneath her broom. There was another reason Busch had been chosen. Kiki didn't have the strength to fly in the teeth of the gale . . . They were coming up fast, astern of the lifeboat. Busch heaved Kiki through the air, trailing a line from a coil on the deck. . . .this was more like harpooning bluegill. Tumbling through the air, Kiki rode the wind like an arrow, using her remaining strength to guide her broom as she crossed the bow of the lifeboat. She saw a blur of startled faces look up as she screamed a warning and dropped the line across the gunnels of the boat. She didn't see what happened next as a large wave slapped her from the sky. She would have died there if not for the second line secured to a harness around her waist. She hung there for a moment, suspended between air and water, then Busch began the slow, torturous process of hauling her aboard as another crewman took the line to the lifeboat aft. ****************************************************** The last boat was secured to the stern, when it roared out of the deep. Leviathan. Stretching from horizon to horizon and reaching to the sky. A million tons of black water. Kiki didn't have time to scream as the Niagra was smashed end-over-end, the wheelhouse exploding as she was driven under. The force of the blow punched the air from her lungs, and tangled her in the rigging like a fly in a web. And like a fly, she gave one spastic struggle as the Niagra's flooded hull dragged her down . . . *I'm dying?* she thought in wonder. *I can't die. I never told Tombo . . .* Darkness closed around her mind, as if she were falling down a well . . . *Jiji . . .Jiji . . .I like this town.* Kiki swooped low over the bay, playing with the sea-gulls. *What a beautiful clock tower it has.* Open-eyed and unseeing, she hung in the bowsprit of the sinking Niagra----the dark pressed in on the light . . . ** Mrs. Onson poured her a cup of coffee, cheerfully clumsy in her pregnancy. *If you'll help out around the shop, I've got a room you can have* ** **I'll work really hard.* It was so wonderful to have found a friend and a place to stay. ** Fifty feet down, water black and calm surrounded her like a shroud . . . ** Kiki hurried down the street, followed by an annoying boy on a bicycle.** *Hi, my name's Tombo. Can you really fly on that broom?* ** Her arteries constricted, trying to conserve oxygen that just didn't exist . . . Frantically her body tried to keep the brain and heart alive by shutting down less critical areas of the body---- only a little light was left, pressed on all sides by the dark . . . ** *_I'm_ going to fly the first man-powered airplane!* Tombo peddled the propeller driven bicycle furiously. *Come with me Kiki!" " Kiki tried to keep up, but it was so hard---- she was so tired---- ** . . .until there wasn't anything left ---- the light was squeezed to a pinpoint . . . *Faster . . .fly faster or I'll burn you!* Kiki slapped the recalcitrant broom, focused on the boy dangling from the nose of the crippled airship. He was losing his grip, swinging at the end of the rope, but the stupid broom wouldn't stay steady---- *Grab my hand, Tombo!* He went one way, a gust of wind sent her the other. *Tombo, grab my----* And her oxygen starved heart began to quiver like a bag of worms . . . **He fell----** *TOMBO!* And the light exploded---- ****************************************************** "KIKI!" Tombo picked his way along the beach, calling her name. "KIKI!" The remnants of the fishing fleet and any other ships that had been caught in the maelstrom had been washing ashore for two days. Smashed boats and broken bodies littered the shore, as if the earth had opened up and vomited forth the dead. Crabs and carrion birds were feasting on the remains and the sickly-sweet stench of death carried for miles. "Kikiiii!" Stopping beside the battered pasty-white flesh that had been a human being two days earlier, Tombo turned it over. Male. "Kikiiii!" He should be helping with the injured. Helping to rebuild the radio station, repair the flying boat. Another lump of flesh. Twice the size of his witch. "Kiiikiiii!" A motorcycle courier had reported bodies and wreckage washing up a hundred miles up and down the coast. "Kikiiiii!" Moving around a lifeboat smashed to kindling his foot caught on something half-buried in the sand. He rose to his knees and froze as sunlight glinted off a small medallion in a fragment of wood. Numbly he took the fragment in his hands, staring unseeing at the words engraved around the rim. A horn blasted and his head snapped around to see steam puffing from the light house. Another puff, followed moments later by the sound of the horn. A ship . . .a ship coming into harbor. He lunged to his feet and started sprinting down the beach, kicking up clods of wet sand as he leaped and dodged the storm litter; heedless of the danger. Lungs burning and heart thudding in his chest, Tombo sprinted past a retaining wall to see a clamoring mob crowding the jetty. Shorn of all masts and rigging, Niagra staggered into port. Tombo felt a sharp pain and looked to see blood dripping from his clenched fist. He opened his hand to find he still carried the medallion. Her decks were awash, and she pulled a string of lifeboats like a weary mother leading her children home. And riding the bowsprit . . . He read the words, engraved in gold: *I deliver packages . . .* . . .body crackling with the magic that held them safe, her searching eyes met his across the distance . . . "Kiki . . ." ****************************************************** They that go down to sea in ships, that do business in great waters: These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. 107th Psalm ****************************************************** Fathom: about six feet League: 2.4-4.6 statute miles (2.4 for the story) Bibliography: The Perfect Storm, Sebastian Junger The Wreck of the Memphis, Captain E.L. Beach Men Ships and the Sea, National Geographic Society Great Lakes Shipwrecks & Survivals, William Ratigan I learned about Flying From That!, Editors of "FLYING Magazine' Down To The Sea In Ships http://www.downtosea.com/