On a Landing Craft Utility, Outside the Great Habour of Jin-Hark
Vlad Baris, Ph.D. and NSC Contractor, watched the Lourian light galley sail towards the Landing Craft Utility the American expedition to Rodenius was on. As set by local regulations, the LCU was in a line of several ships waiting for a pilot to guide them through a gauntlet of underwater rocks and into the Great Habour of Jin-Hark. In the background were the brown-red walls and rectangular towers surrounding Jin-Hark. Directly ahead was a large gap between the two towers which delineated the harbour entrance.
There was an audible click as Rolling Stone reporter Kevin Wright snapped a picture with his Kodak DLSR as the galley was silhouetted by the two towers in the background. Bruce Shepard shuffled around Kevin to better capture digital footage on his General Electric DCR for the Associated Press.
As the galley drew up portside to the LCU, Vlad noted the many rowers sitting on benches required to draw the ship closer once they stopped using the sails. Lengthwise it was only about five meters shorter than the LCU. Five meters was what, fifteen feet? He felt that it was going to be a long time before he stopped thinking in metric instead of American measurements. He sighed as he momentarily thought about the comfortable villa he left behind in Greece.
His attention came back to reality when the side of the galley bumped into the LCU. He felt the LCU shudder with the controlled collision.
A gruff man with a fully white beard and tanned skin stood up from his seat at the head of the galley. "Navis nomen, patriam generis, ac novissimum portum vocant."
"Ship name, country of nationality, and last port of call," translated Vlad.
Chief Petty Officer Gimbal, now at the side of the LCU, responded, "LCU 1627, hull number 14. United States of America. Port Apra, Guam."
Vlad had to spell most words in his translation for the galley leader who carved notes into a wax tablet. "How many hours do you intend to stay docked for?"
"We'll be away as soon as we unload our passengers and they've gotten safely through customs."
"I'll mark you down for two hours then. Payment for pilot and docking is done at the harbour office. Can't miss the building."
After seeing Gimbal nod, Vlad spoke, "We understand."
After being satisfied, the Lourian pointed to a lanky 16 or 17-year-old sitting on a bench. "Ammonius, you take this one."
Ammonius stood up and waved to the Americans. "Hello everyone, I am Ammonius. I'll be your harbour pilot today. May I come aboard?"
"I'm Chief Petty Officer Gimbal. You have permission to climb aboard." Vlad chose to translate Gimbal's rank as 'Princeps Pusillus', literally 'little leader'.
A Marine helped Ammonius up over the side, and Chief Gimbal shook his hand. "How long have you been sailing, Ammonius."
"Since I was 12. I've been working as a pilot since I turned 14 two years ago."
"So you're 16?"
"Yes, Princeps."
"Well then, you're the youngest person on this ship. The youngest amongst our crew is 19."
"Don't you have younger boys in your crew?"
"No, it takes a certain amount of education to join, so the minimum age is 17."
"Ah, so like the Milishial crews then."
Vlad took a brief moment to ponder how many of the ships in the waters around them had working children aboard.
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The Big Ones
FanfictionFor years, the United States of America has dominated the skies with SAC's nuclear-armed bombers and fighters since the nuclear annihilation of Germany in WW2 in the event known as The Big One. Now suddenly transported to a New World during the earl...
