Thirteenth evolution of sail - signalling by flag

[shakenandlimp]

[Public video]

[Bush is still spending most of his day shadowing Jones, though at a more polite distance now, but that doesn't mean he can't use his communicator.]

I know it's a poor chance, but if anyone is out there from eighteen-fifteen or so who knows how the war is going, some scrap of recent news, can tell me anything about England--

[History books paint the broadest strokes and he's desperate for real news, hopefully of old friends.]

Comments

[fourthbest]

[ There is a man who answers, quite in disarray by Naval standards - no neckcloth, green military jacket rumpled, packing his possessions by dumping things willy-nilly into a chest. ]

The war? Why, it's going as it ever has - worse, perhaps, now that Boney has the Tswana on Brazil.

- I say! [ And he suddenly turns and focuses on - what is that, a tiny window? A man inside it? He picks up his journal, which seems to be transformed. ] Did you say eighteen-fifteen? And what is this? Am I dreaming? [ He says these as though demanding answers; it is the habit, in the Aerial Corps, which does not stand so much on ceremony. ]

[shakenandlimp]

Eighteen-fifteen, the year after I left the war, you are not dreaming, what in Hell is that uniform and what bungler let Boney across the ocean to get his hands on Brazil-!

[That last is bewildered. The Dons had their teeth in the Americas, but not Bonaparte-- had the Spanish been foolish enough to ally with him again after all they had been through-?]

[fourthbest]

Beg pardon, sir, but I am a member of His Majesty's Aerial Corps. [ And he's more than a little offended by the - is it ignorance? Or just disregard? Either way. ]

[shakenandlimp]

His Majesty's what?

[fourthbest]

Aerial Corps.

Captain John Granby, aboard Iskierka.

[shakenandlimp]

What, as a fleet of Montpelier balloons? When the deuce did we acquire such a thing-?

Captain William Bush, lately of His Majesty's Ship of the Line Nonsuch.

[fourthbest]

Why --

Of course not! Dragons, as it's always been.

Montgolfier not Montpelier dum de do

[shakenandlimp]

Sir. I'm an officer of the Royal Navy trying to get the news of home. This isn't the time to be witty.

[fourthbest]

And now isn't the time to be insulting.

Iskierka. You must've heard of her. The Kazilik - the firebreather, stolen from the Turks in the egg.

[mirabilis]

I could tell you something about that.

[ It's a little before her time but she did read, and history was good knowledge to have ]

[shakenandlimp]

Thank you miss, I think you are a bit after me. But if you know what the history books don't-- I haven't been able to find a word about Commodore Hornblower, not Captain Bolton or Captain Freeman who was in the Baltic expedition with me. Nor the whole expedition.

[This being because in most timelines, there wasn't one, though Bush does not really understand that.]

[mirabilis]

I was born in 1866, it's far enough away that books will have some record. [ Books but not her, not on the names that he mentioned ] I could find their record.

[shakenandlimp]

I'd be in your debt. I am up on the situation from the Siege of Riga to the surrender of Le Havre [He pronounces the French barbarously] but after that I would love to know what came of the channel fleet, and the Commodore.

[mirabilis]

I will do what I can then. I hope that what I find is positive for you.

[shakenandlimp]

Thankee, ma'am. I have been looking myself, and I found how the war ended, but no mention of those things.

[mirabilis]

Then maybe I'll be able to find something hidden elsewhere. I have experience with finding obscure things. [ Usually different kinds of things ]

oh god what am I doing.

[selfdisparagement]

Bush?

Mr. Bush, I hear you! Come about!

Confound this....thing!

SCREAMING

[shakenandlimp]

Sir-?

[Oh GOD.]

Sir, be easy, please, how're you hearing me?

[selfdisparagement]

I...I'm sure I don't know. There was this...mechanical device, stowed away in a store room and I, I picked it up and your voice started to come through it!

Is someone having us on?

[shakenandlimp]

It's a complicated thing, C-- sir. You must trust me that it's all right.

[And he has always tried to be someone Hornblower could trust implicitly.]

It's going to sound a very silly question, sir, but please -- what year is it?

[selfdisparagement]

[Without hesitation] Of course I trust you, Mr. Bush, but what's this all about? I've never seen or heard tell of anything like this.

The year? Certainly a ways before 1815.


...1815?

[shakenandlimp]

It is-- it is very--

It is a bit metaphysical I think the word is. And it has something to do with Mathematics. I can't explain it very well, but-- I am doing very well and you mustn't bother yourself, I will be wherever you've left me last when you go to look.

It's, it's only like a vision, sir, of the future.

[A vision very relieved he didn't say Commodore, which title only was given to Hornblower in 1811.]

[selfdisparagement]

....I'm afraid I don't understand. I only just saw you. Mathematics has made your voice come out of this little box? From the future?

It's just all very so...farfetched.

[shakenandlimp]

I know, sir. It's all very odd, took me ages to get my bearings here. I wish I could explain it better but I don't understand myself.

But-- it's been a while since I've been able to speak to you, won't you tell me what we're about, how you have been?

[selfdisparagement]

How I've been? What of yourself, Mr. Bush? Won't you tell me where you are, when you're coming back? How long is 'a while' from where you've been?


....Forgive me. My mind is a sea of questions at the moment and the appearance of this...odd device is making everything worse.