The Low Down

Apparently money goes a long way here in Cuba to circumvent any type of inconvenient government involvement. We landed, stepped over to the slick that will took us out to the ship and never saw a customs agent, machine gun toting security agent, or anyone with a uniform what-so-ever.

Once we had landed aboard Caribbear we were escorted to our staterooms and told that we would meet with the "team" in the morning. That was all I remembered, that and the fifteen hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. Like sleeping in the thighs of an angel. I know nothing until one of the ship's stewards actually has to shake me awake.

"What? What is it?"
"Breakfast, sir. The others are assembling up in the main salon."
Others?

There is a shower in my stateroom so I take advantage of that and the other complimentary toiletries. So many of these little expeditions end up with none of these niceties... so I will take advantage of them while I can. In the closet I find what you might think are local togs and put them on. I feel refreshed and comfortable.

As I step out of my stateroom, Lou is already in the passageway.
"This is some comfortable shit."
"It's a guayabera... also known as a Mexican wedding shirt."
"Thanks Pat Sajak."
"I think you mean Alex Trebek."
"Don't tell me what I think, Nancy. Isn't a guayabera is one of those huge rodents that you find in South America?"
"That's a Capybara."
"Fuck you."
"And good morning to you."

We head up to the next deck and into main salon. Chris, his mother, the surviving members of Goldfarb, Stinkle, and Abramowitz, and what looks to be a local are seated in the lounge area drinking coffee. Ollie is up behind the bar with a plate of food, shoveling hash browns and sausage as though someone might try to take it from him. Chris stands when he sees us come up the steps.

"Hey boys... welcome aboard." He sits down and gestures to a couple of the empty seats. "We are just talking about the tablets and the treasure map." He looks toward the steward then back at us, "You guys hungry?"

"We can wait." Lou looks toward Ollie, who doesn't show any signs of slowing.

We make the rounds, shaking hands as we go. Chris' mom's hand is like a lump of cold granite. Still scary.

"Gentlemen... " She starts, taking her seat. We follow her lead and sink into the virgin cushioned leather.
"I appreciate you finding Mr. Stinkle and arranging his transportation back to his wife and family."

I look at Lou and his eyes are as wide as my own. A quick glance at Abramowitz and we get a nod of assurance that this is exactly what happened.
"We... we are sorry for your loss, Ma'am."

She looks at me for a moment. It lasts until it is uncomfortable and then she looks to Chris.
"Christopher feels that in order for this project to proceed we need your assistance. You both were vital in the retrieval of the precious metal for the Clarok. I hope that the re-numeration was adequate?"

Again a look from Lou.
"Yes, Ma'am, thank you. Our compensation was more than enough." I offered.
"Not quite enough for that re-entry shit. I'll tell you that much." Lou throws in.

Now it is Mrs. Antonelli that has a look of confusion. Abramowitz is to her left and he leans in and speaks in low tones, hopefully explaining about our issues after our return from the Old West. How could she not have been informed. Hell, we died and everything.

"I am sorry to hear of your unfortunate issues during your return."

Unfortunate issues? I look at Chris, who is wholly aware of the torturous weeks we spent in the blink of an eye. What I see in return is a "trust me" look. Lou must be looking as well, because I hear him scoff at the unspoken request.

"Gentlemen... " She begins again, "we have found a much deeper meaning within the glyphs on the Mayan temple walls, there is more to the story and ability of the Clarok, more than we had imagined."

Goldfarb pulls two identical folders from a briefcase and places one in front of each of us. Inside there is a copy of the map, a glossy photo of what I assume is part of the Mayan Temple to which these people continually refer, and a drawing of a tile from that wall that has a translation penned at the bottom.

"Okay, I'll bite. What does it mean?" Lou holds the drawing of the tile one way and then another.

At the bottom are the words "never setting sun". Several other translations are abandoned beneath thick scribbled lines. On the tile itself is a stick figure holding a tablet aloft with what look like rays of light or something emitting from the center of the tablet.

Now one of the locals stands and introduces himself. He speaks with a thick accent and it is nearly impossible to make out what he says without watching his lips move.
"The Clarok is more than the alter basin that you are familiar with. The further translation of the glyphs have shown us that the Clarok was a priest, not the material object that you have seen."

Lou gives this guy a look, "Seen? Hell boy, we did more than... "
He is stopped in his tracks by a look from Mrs. Antonelli. One that relays the fact that our trip with the Clarok is on a need to know basis, and these two guys don't know shit. Even though they were listening to our comments earlier about re-entry, it is obvious now that they are not aware of our use of the Clarok and its abilities.
Needless to say, Lou stopped talking and the man continued.

"We have been able to translate more of the glyphs with a better understanding and have found that the priest, or "Clarok", had the Alter Basin and two tablets as the tools he used to perform his rituals."

He continues on to tell us that along with the tablets, the Grifon was carrying Governor Torres' retirement fund in chests marked with his family crest. Just three days ago they brought the top of one of those chests to the surface off of Samana Cay.

"If the tablets are in the waters off of Samana Cay, we want someone familiar with the Clarok and its abilities to handle their recovery." Mrs. Antonelli looks right at Lou when she speaks. Lou then looks at me.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"
We get up from our seats and walk out toward the aft deck.
"I told you... she wants us to go on another of those trips with that thing."
"What happened to Chris needs our help and that you were going to go no matter what?"

Lou's gaze narrows, "That was help help... not space time continuum help. I could spend the rest of my life not tripping through time like that ever again."

We feel a cold presence as Lou speaks. Chris' mother puts a hand on Lou's shoulder. An uncharacteristic move and reception for both of them.
"What happened to you boys was an anomoley that we shouldn't see again. Our team has worked out the process and what went wrong with the initial experiment."

"Experiment?" Lou turns to face her. "No disrespect, Mrs. Antonelli, but we aren't some rats in a maze here. What we experienced was real. Every shot felt real, the blood loss was real, the broken bones and watchin' my buddy here die in front of my eyes. That was all REAL. Not some experiment."

I am hoping that he is done.

"And another thing... how is it that we didn't effect what was going on here when we were killing people back in the old west. We rearranged history back there. Something here must have changed."

His voice was getting louder and louder. Mrs. Antonelli gestured to Chris and he went back and cleared the room. The briefing would have to wait until our fears were satiated. Once the others had adjourned, we took a more comfortalbe posture back in the lounge.

Chris takes a turn now. "Guys, I know that things got rough." Lou rolls his eyes a little, and Chris continues.
"First of all, the timeline... it seems that in the grand design of things we are supposed to be doing what we are doing."

"Now that is an explanation. Can you work the words "thingy" and "do-hickey" in there somewhere?" Lou is getting more impatient.

"Yes, we were part of several battles, yes we took out Arlis Keene's gang, yes we killed a lot of cavalry, but it was all going to happen whether we were there or not. This Clarok is part of the fabric of history. What happens while we are under its control is also part of history... our history. That is why there was no effect when we returned to our timeline."

"Why did we get off our timeline when we came back?" I am hoping for a real answer.

"As close as we can figure it was because Lou was pretty much unconcious when he came through and you were supporting him. They are studying the alignment factor and applying what they have learned. Dr. Adams has developed a chip that can be injected under the skin that should help in the energy alignment and prevent the alternate ending you guys had on your last trip."

"That's right, Chris, our LAST trip." Lou gets up and walks, "how you get off this fucking ship."

I look at Chris, who shrugs back at me.
"I don't know what to say. I was there too, you know. I took a chance riding that lightning just like you guys. What is he so bent out of shape about?"

"It wasn't that trip. It was the alternate ending... bad, very bad. I'm with him, Chris. If your people can't guarantee that won't happen again, then we are heading back home."

I find Lou on the back of the ship, leaning over the railing puffing a hand-rolled Cuban from the complimentary case in the bar.
"I'm not doing it."
"That's what I told them."
"I don't need this shit."
"That's what I told them."

Chris comes out, followed by one of the wait-staff who is balancing a platter of breakfast meats, fruit, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns... like a walking breakfast buffet.
"You guys didn't eat."

The plates are placed on the aft deck outside table and we sit. Lou loads his plate and starts in, I as well. Chris, on the other hand, keeps talking.
"I don't remember anyone asking you to take any trips."

Lou looks at him as he works his way through a mouthful of sausage and hashbrowns, "Don't play us for fools, Chris."

"I'm serious. The reason I had Stinkle come find you guys is because we need your skills. We have a treasure hunt on a tropical island... women... Caribbean rum... ganja?" Chris looks at him like he is trying to get his Daddy's car keys.

I look at Lou and nod, waiting to see his reaction. A slow smile sneaks in and he plops his loaded fork down on his plate. He shakes his head and looks my way.
"How do I let you get me into this shit?"
"I am pretty sure you got me into this shit."

"Good, so we are going to find these other pieces of the Clarok and then we will let Dr. Adams go take the next trip. He is due, don't you think?"

"Now your talking. Doctor my ass."

We spend the better part of breakfast talking about where we needed to go and what we needed to find. Ever since they found the Atocha off the Keys, the real treasure hunting was done in the research. Records that were turning to dust with each passing hour are the real clues as to what is on board, where the ships were heading, when they were expected to arrive at their destinations. Every port of call had two references; one in the log book of every ship, the second with the harbor master or official that would log every ships entry and collect the port fee.

The Grifon was not part of the treasure fleet as so far as to be carrying treasure that would attract the efforts of modern day hunters. The local that was speaking in the salon was a local historian that had unlimited access to the archives in the Cuban National Library in Santiago de Cuba. It was there he had found the copies of the Grifon's cargo manifest, and some interesting follow up facts that seem to have evaded the history books.

Grifon, after separating from the Spanish Treasure Fleet, Captain Antione Dare decided to return to Cuba, skirting the Bahamas and the possibility of pirates. His luck did not hold and it was rumored his ship was taken by Calico Jack Rackam, a theory backed by the fact that it was found run aground on a Cay off of Port Royal.
But the ship was empty of cargo.

"So... " Chris takes the last sausage from the platter and bites it in half and chews it twice and it is gone. "What happened to the cargo? We had to go to each and every little port that might have kept a shipping log and hope that those documents survived long enough for us to track Calico Jack."

"Well?"
"We found a storekeeper's log in a little port town of Clarence on the island of Long, just northwest of Samana Cay. John Fenwick, a member of Calico Jack's crew, signed the stores manifest. Along side that entry were the items that were "on order" and were to be picked up within the month. If they didn't return for them, the storekeeper was to deliver these to their anchored ship off of Samana Cay or face their wrath."

Lou shakes his head in disbelief, "Who the hell are you, a goddamn Rhodes Scholar now?"

"It is all in the history, Lou. We know where to look, and have already found the top of one of the chests."

"Then what do you need us for?" I ask... realizing that the treasure hunt is already finished.

"There seems to be another party that is watching our every move. We need to protect our interests. My mother can get you guys anything you need. We just want to salvage the tablets from the site and be on our way. We need a security team that can deal with our little friends out there and keep the secrets we want kept."

He gives us both a hard look, "Are you in?"
I look at Lou, and he gets a smile on his face, "Anything we need?"
















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