Revelation (Part Six)

"The pursuit of power is nothing more than the endless turning of a
poisoned knife of infinitely long length into one's infinitely deep
heart. There is no finality, no fulfilment, no apogee, no absolute or
absolution. There is only pain and disappointment, and these become
insanity and corruption. This is why rich men hope to satisfy
themselves with prestige, poor men with dignity."

Were they his own words, or the words of some philosopher? Gogo could
not remember, but they occurred to him as the solution to a question
that he had asked himself, privately, maybe even without his knowing,
when Digitalis first spoke of power. The moment his 'father' gained a
mortal body, however woven with demonic powers, he ceased to be a demon
and instead became possessed by demons. Digitalis, who might as well be
referred to as a 'he' for he had a male body, was not the embodiment of
sin and temptation, nor the essence of corruption in man. He was
corrupted, and indeed tempted, himself, and was not fit to handle such
infestations. However more powerful he became he would never have
enough power to exact himself of his own kind, and would thus be
destroyed. Gogo wondered if perhaps it was such a demonic infestation
that had brought Halibut, Mugwort, Natterjack, Orfe and Burbot to their
eventual ends.
The dull, persistent heat of the day was finally beginning to dry him
out as he lay unmoving on the soft beach. All except his boots, which
were kept consistently wet by the surges of foam that came at him.
Eventually, this wetness bothered Gogo enough to govern activity. He
crawled forward and came to rest, kneeling, in sand of a finer texture
and lighter colour. It clung fast to his damp robes, despite brief,
furious attempts to brush it off, and in its quantity and brightness
dazzled him.
He should have drowned, he knew; the implements he carried would have
dragged him to the seabed a thousand times over. That perhaps should
have been his fate. Instead, Digitalis had saved him from the mouth of
hell in order that he should live in some purgatory. An island?
Marooned, like in adventure stories?
He looked about him. The surrounding environment was certainly
islandish, for its fringes were visible in either direction, guarded by
seaward-facing crags and tors, while the eminence of a small mountain
presided over a thick forest of extravagant foliage that Gogo had thus
far only seen in pictures, usually clad round the waists of brown
dancing girls. It frightened him to witness such a dense expanse of the
unfamiliar, so he turned away from the inviting arms of lush fauna and
concentrating his sights upon the beach. It was strewn either way with
wreckage, presumably from 'The Flying Carp.' Nearest to him was what he
took to be a fraction of the deck, swollen and wrapped in seaweed. He
moved toward this, but as he approached it his gaze was diverted to
another, considerably larger, object that lay further away. When he had
arrived at this, he found it to be the greater portion of the
figurehead, staring coldly at him through its saturated grain as if
frustrated at its limblessness. His interest was maintained for barely
the time it took him to assess this however, before he was intrigued by
another object, and another after that, and yet another in succession.
A treasure trail of items from the doomed vessel! A sodden, mangled
hammock, a length of rope that may have been his makeshift washing
line, a complete drawer in which he found his missing ladle, an item of
torn clothing...even the ship's log. Upon descending on this, Gogo
wiped the sand off as best he could and opened it, to see what
Digitalis had written whilst in the guise of Gadfly. Nothing! What
words had been scrawled there were washed into an indecipherable haze.
The pages tore away softly as soon as he tried to turn them; all
records of the last seven days were lost, except to his memory. Gogo
wondered at the symbolism of this.
After wondering for a good time, he put the logbook down and proceeded
along the beach. He had not far to amble before he came across his next
object of interest: what seemed to be the body of Loach. The
communications officer was lying prone in the sand, exactly as Gogo had
found himself, his hair and clothes in disarray. A torn shirt exposed
his shoulders and upper back, and they glowed red against the sun. A
wave of relief broke over Gogo; the sunburn meant Loach was still
alive. Without hesitation, he turned the unconscious body over to
inspect the face - and fell backwards in shock. It couldn't be!
For a lengthy period of time, Gogo could only sit there staring, so
confused was he at this new discovery. Then, summoning fresh courage,
he leant forward and tentatively prodded the object of his confusion.
It wobbled slightly. Gogo did the same with the other one, and it
responded similarly. In truth, they were as alien to him as the
extravagant leaves, for until then he had only seen them whole in
anatomical textbooks. He was unhappily aware of the implication though.
Empowering himself with every vestige of bravery he possessed, he crept
up to Loach's sprawled legs and patted his crotch. There was no longer
any doubt in Gogo's mind.
Loach stirred, whispering soft moans to herself. Sand cascaded out of
her hair and crevices as she propped herself up on both elbows. Gogo
remained still.
"Oh, it's you," she said, eyes half-open and blinking against the
ogling sun. "Did we all make it? Where are the others? Ouch! My
ba..."
She noticed for the first time her bared chest, and her face
immediately mirrored the colour of her shoulders.
"Dammit!"
She hauled the tattered remains of her shirt up to her neck to cover
herself, throwing a hostile look at Gogo as she did so.
"You little pervert! How long have you been sitting there gawking at
me?"
Gogo foisted his most indignant expression upon her, and in the
classical dialect Evangeline loved so much, he replied: "Why, I just
happened by this very moment!"
"Liar!"
"I swear it to be the truth."
"Filthy little liar!"
And with that she bent double and sobbed into her hands. Gogo was only
mildly taken aback, for he had already experienced such a reaction
whilst in the company of Ukulele Sullivan. He allowed Loach to continue
with her expression of grief until she at last choked, "I suppose you
want to know why I did it."
Gogo had not thought of it, but felt it tactless to say so.
"Go on."
She drew an elbow across her damp eyes and looked up at him.
"I'm tired of being treated like a woman. I never asked to be one! I
never asked to be daddy's little angel, or Grandma's big girl, or
Tobias' petite amie, or who-so-ever's queen or wife or lady or
mistress. Don't you see? I wanted to be me!"
Gogo frowned.
"But you are you. What matter is a label?"
She threw her fists into the sand.
"Oh you don't understand! How could you? You've always been treated
fairly, an equal. I bet your younger brothers weren't taking fencing
lessons while you studied domestic science."
From this Gogo took her to be of a wealthy family. He didn't say so. He
said: "I was bereft of brothers."
"Were you now?" she sniffed. "So I suppose you were spoilt
rotten."
"Lady. I was no more than a gypsy," Gogo reminded her.
"Well that explains your lack of cleanliness, I guess. Where are
we?"
She surveyed their surroundings and at once appeared disheartened with
them.
"We're in the middle of nowhere! How are we going to get back to Nikeah
now? Where's the Captain, and Lamprey, and that big git, Gudgeon? Do
you think they're all dead, Gogo? Do you think it's just us?"
Gogo didn't like to say, but he did not rate Gudgeon's chances of
survival very highly. The munitions officer's damaged foot would be too
great a hindrance, and might well have attracted sharks, his textbook
knowledge told him. If that were so, it seemed that once again a member
of Trout's crew had been destroyed by his own dangerous passion. It
upset Gogo to think that humans could be so easily tricked into
reaching too far out of their element, but he did not show it in the
slit of a face that Loach could see, nor did he tell her what thoughts
had passed through his head in those brief moments. He shrugged and
said, "How could I possibly say? I have not long been conscious
myself."
"But what if they're all dead? How will we survive?"
"I fear we shall have to do as best we are able."
Loach pulled her shirt further up and around her, so that it formed a
kind of loose bodice. She turned her back to Gogo.
"Hey, can you tie together the strands for me? Nice and tight,
please."
Gogo began to do so, and she at once broke out in a fit of
winces.
"Ouch! No, don't stop - it's the burns. Ow! My poor back! It's bright
red, isn't it? Tell me, is it flaking?"
"Not as of yet," replied Gogo, pulling the last of the knots
tight.
"Owww!"
"It is done."
She turned back to her original position and peered, miserable and
dejected, into the endless plain of silver sea. It was the same colour,
Gogo thought, as the sea in Nikeah that had cried his name so
longingly. Perhaps he too had reached too far out of his
element...
A comfortable silence endured between them until Loach at last said, "I
need to answer the call of nature. Have you taken a look inside that
jungle yet?"
"I have yet to venture near it."
"Then will you walk half way there with me, so you can hear me if I
shout? I don't like to think what kind of creatures are hiding in
there, waiting to sink their jagged little teeth into my flesh."
Whatever they are, they've been a long time waiting, Gogo mused.
"But of course," he said.
So he followed her half way up the beach, then watched her disappear
into the embrace of the foliage. She was not as long as he expected,
and soon reemerged looking much relieved and a good deal more ready to
face what challenges awaited them. Gogo was about to congratulate her
on her recovery when a voice came at them from further down the
beach.
"Ahoy!"
It was Trout. From the distance they were standing he looked like a
small, hairy lobster, and as he closed in Gogo noted that he had
discarded all but his pipe and a pair of ripped shorts (that had no
doubt once been his trousers.) He was shining pink with sweat,
breathless, wild-eyed and frenzied.
"Well, what do ye think?" he stammered.
Gogo peered closely at him, searching for something faintly
remarkable.
"You look ravishing," he eventually said, out of politeness rather than
amazement.
"Not me, ye mountebank! This!"
He danced around on the spot, his arms extended to the rich, foreboding
environment that shimmered around them.
"I'd rather it were Nikeah, Cap'n," muttered Loach.
"You'd rather it were...for heaven's sake, lad, don't ye remember why
we set off on this here voyage of discovery in the first place? Don't
ye recall our goal, our great dream?"
"We were in the midst of seeking out the lost continent," Gogo said,
trying to be of some help to the distraught captain.
"Aye, that's right! And here we have arrived - the lost continent! I'll
be naming it Sullivania, after meself and me dear sister, which reminds
me, cook - that monster said you was a gypsy, did he not?"
Gogo agreed that it was so.
"Well are ye?"
Gogo admitted he was.
"Argh! Well let me tell you something. When I was in me twenties, and
me sister the obstreperous age of sixteen, our town was visited by a
circus of travelling gypsies and one of them did went and have his way
with her. As of that day, I've sworn vengeance on all their kind, and I
might as well be telling ye now, that if it wasn't for me finding out
too late to act and thus having already been enamoured with what I
perceives as yer good spirit and yer noble deeds - if it were not for
that then I would have run ye through with me broadsword long ago. So
count yerself lucky, me lad!"
Gogo felt a numbing aura pass over him. As the second unexpected
discovery of the day it was almost too much for him to contain within
himself, and he swayed uncontrollably. Trout grinned.
"Thought that might come as a shock to ye! Now, what are ye both doing
huddled in all these here clothes? Tis scorching in this here
Sullivania, a holiday destination if ever there be one!"
Without warning, he lurched towards Loach and began tugging at her
shirt.
"Come on, off with it. Don't want me first batch of tourists to see ye
hiding in this here shade."
Feeling his textbook knowledge was required to save Loach's secret,
Gogo recovered control of his senses and placed a hand on Trout's
shoulder.
"Captain. Bare skin will burn and blister in such fierce heat. Look
here. His back is already raw from its exposure to the light and will
take a good while to heal."
Trout took a step back and surveyed his own hairy, pink body.
"Now that ye mention it, I does feel a little sore. Ah, well. I'll just
sell these here giant leaves as umbrellas and make meself more
money."
He cackled to himself briefly, then continued: "By the way, that's a
mighty pair of pectorals ye have there, Loach. Seems out of place
seeing as yer biceps are so scrawny."
"Has anyone else survived?" asked Loach, eager to change the topic of
conversation. "I mean, have you found anyone else here other than
us?"
"Aye!" beamed Trout. "I come across Lamprey earlier on, and sent him
scouting. He's going to find the best place to build a resort."
"And the others?"
"I ain't seen them yet."
Loach turned to Gogo.
"So there's at least four of us. That should be enough to build a small
boat or something, right?"
"Build a boat?!?" Trout chuckled. "Now why on earth would ye want to be
doing that?"
"So we can get off this place and head for home! We've got to do it at
some point, or else how will you tell everyone about your great
discovery?"
Trout stopped chuckling.
"I...err...I guess you'd be right. But we won't be reaching Nikeah
again any time soon without a good supply of food and an engine."
Loach became hysterical.
"Then we'll be marooned here for the rest of our lives! So much for
adventure and discovery, for comradeship and chivalry - all we can do
now is try to survive for decades on whatever food we can find in the
depths of this godforsaken jungle. And to think I thought this was the
life for me!"
"Pull yerself together, man!" Trout implored her. "We have only to wait
until a passing ship comes across us, and then we'll be sailing home,
heroes! Just think of that."
"Passing ship? If you're right, and this is the lost continent, then
it's still lost, and we're lost with it. It can't be lost if it's
within sight of passing ships."
Trout became downcast for a time, considering the weight of the
communication officer's logic. Gogo could not help but agree with
Loach, but found himself disbelieving the idea of their being on
Trout's lost continent. After the revelation about Ukulele, it was far
too neat and convenient, and of one thing he was relatively certain:
that he could see land's end in either direction.
"Then we can live as free beings!" Trout said, suddenly regaining his
enthusiasm. "No more paying of bills and smuggling of rebels, no more
living in fear of the Empire's next move. We can settle down
and..."
"And what?!?" demanded Loach. "Start up a colony?"
"Maybe so. If we can find ourselves some native women to
populate!"
Trout guffawed loudly while Loach seethed. Gogo looked from one to the
other and feared what was about to happen.
"Listen, Captain," Loach barked, "there's only one woman within miles
of here and she's standing right in front of you."
Trout choked on his laughter and allowed a hideous grimace to flower on
his face. His eyes darted straight to Gogo.
"Not just a gypsy, but a woman as well! By heaven, what else is ye? A
politician?"
"Not him!" snapped Loach. "Me!"
She pulled down the front of her shirt and revealed her breasts to the
bearded pipe smoker, who staggered backwards and fell onto his behind
in exactly the same manner as Gogo had done. Gogo wondered if Trout,
like him, had unwisely confined his experience to books. Loach put her
makeshift bodice back into place and smirked at the fallen
captain.
"There you are then! What have you to say to that?"
If the wide-eyed seaman meant to return her an equally audacious reply,
she was saved from that fate by the arrival of Lamprey, who had clearly
been sprinting along the beech towards them for some time. He panted,
unable to speak, and merely pointed unbelievingly at Loach.
"What? You want a look as well? Fine then - here!"

---------------------------

"Yer delirious, Lamprey. Ye must have doubled back on yerself without
knowing it."
Lamprey shook his head solemnly.
"I never strayed off the beach. If I'd doubled back on myself I'd have
had to go past you, and I didn't. I came at you from the other way,
which just proves what I said. This is a three-sided island. It's not
even the size of Nikeah. This jungle goes on for a while, then gives
way to more sparse outcrops and hills and beyond them is the
sea."
The four of them were now sat in a rough circle, shaded by the fringes
of jungle, soothed by a light breeze. Trout was utterly crushed by
Lamprey's firm announcement that they were not on any kind of
continent. Gogo was not surprised, and fairly glad that the possibility
of their rescue was alive and well, while Loach simmered gently.
"We'd best see what food we can find," continued Lamprey, "and be
thankful we've got a cook with us. It shouldn't take long to get a fire
going - hell, you could roast any meat we find just by leaving out in
the sun. Come on."
Gogo and Loach stirred, and the three of them stood up, leaving Trout
struck in an oddly contemplative pose. Lamprey looked back at
him.
"Coming, Captain?"
Trout said nothing.
"Very well then. You sure you want to come, Loach? It may be dangerous,
and very frightening for a lady."
"I'll be fine," mumbled Loach. "I never asked to be treated like a
lady."
That said, she, Gogo and Lamprey left their captain to his own
melancholy devices, and they trudged warily through the enclosing
leaves and clutching branches into the heart of the island. The jungle
area was smaller than Gogo had first imagined, though it shrouded them
in thick darkness very soon after entering, and while the plants
offered much resistance against their pace, the party was fortunate
enough not to encounter any ill-tempered creatures while they were thus
hindered. On the other hand, neither did they encounter anything
resembling an edible fruit until they emerged into the less thickly
populated area of land that lay on the other side of the jungle. Here,
banana trees were in abundance, bowing over above them as if inviting
the travellers into the clearing whilst at the same time inspecting
them closely with a degree of suspicion. For a time it bothered Gogo
that they may be watching him, but he thought such ideas unworthy of
consideration - they were no more than the disguised beginnings of a
great fear of the unknown. Nevertheless, those banana trees had more
than one face...
Lamprey began to climb one, while Loach went further ahead to see what,
if anything, lay beyond the crop of trees. Gogo watched Lamprey
struggling, but commanded by a ferocious hunger as he edged further and
further up the tree. He thought it wise, not to mention tactful, to
wait until Lamprey had achieved his goal before bringing his own
climbing abilities into the fray. Loach arrived back before this was
done.
"Just over that ridge, either side of the mountain, you can see the
sea," she said. "Lamprey's right. We're definitely on an island."
"Of course I'm right!" Lamprey growled through set teeth and fruitless
labour.
His foot slipped, causing him to swing around and underneath the bowing
trunk of the tree. Hissing and cursing, he heaved himself back up.
Loach did not spare a look, but muttered something inaudibly, then said
to Gogo: "Do you think a ship will come by soon?"
Replied classical Gogo: "I'm afraid it is not in my capacity to say so.
If there are hither no other islands within a glance of this one, then
it would suggest this is a lonely island, and not an archipelago, and
that would most likely not place us near to the mainland. We may be
fortunate however. Perhaps there is perchance a passing trading
route."
"If only that idiot Burbot had told us where we were heading," Loach
spat, clenching her fists.
"He never knew himself!" cried Lamprey.
He fell to the ground beside them, a large bunch of bananas clutched to
his bosom. Gogo helped him up.
"Hey now, be fair," said the chief engineer, dusting himself down.
"These are mine. Or at least, they're my winnings, so to speak. You two
have got to put a stake in as well, or I'm not sharing."
Oddly enough, this did seem a fair proposal to Gogo. Not to Loach, who
stared at Lamprey with unconcealed disdain, but then he did not mind
sharing his own 'winnings' with her. The tree hardly presented a
challenge to one who could mimic precisely the ninja skills of the
master assassin Antares. Ho ho ho! But wait! Gogo had caught himself
laughing inside his own head again. Dismissing such bilge as its
namesake, he flung himself up the tree with impatience and vigour,
reaching the very top almost immediately. Now then, he reasoned, as
Lamprey had claimed an entire bunch for himself, it seemed in keeping
with this notion to pluck two - one for himself, and one for Loach. He
did so, then dropped to the ground, where Lamprey was frozen in stark
bafflement.
"Hmph. You are a show-off," said Loach.
Gogo held out one of his bunches for her to take, but Lamprey,
recovering the power of motion, charged between them and faced Gogo
with anger in much evidence upon his sunken brow.
"You've got two and I've got one," he said, stating the obvious. "How
would you like to play for three?"
"I can partake in another one if I so wish," replied Gogo, indicated
the still well endowed trees around them.
Lamprey shook his head.
"No more scooting up trees. We're going to play each other for the
gold!"

-------------------

Lamprey's proposal, as it turned out, was serious. So it was that Gogo
found himself that evening seated in the shade of a banana tree placing
individually marked leaves in a pile between himself and the engineer,
wondering at Lamprey's sanity. The leaves were meant to resemble cards,
the rapidly diminishing pile of bananas by his side was his wealth.
Lamprey won the first rounds with ease, but Gogo presented a greater
challenge as he became acquainted with the rules of the game. It amused
him to note one side effect of their ridiculous activity that would
please many of the people he knew from his journeys - money now grew on
trees.
"Don't you think we should go and see what's become of the captain?"
Loach asked.
She was sat a little way away from the gamblers, her sagging head
becoming more and more evident as the evening wore on. Gogo silently
agreed with her proposal, but could see no way of convincing Lamprey to
abandon their game, especially as his opponent now owned the greater
part of the bananas.
"For goodness' sake," Loach persisted. "There's plenty of bananas.
What sense is there in fighting each other over them?"
Gogo wondered, 'What sense is there in anything but assuring one's own
survival?' He found himself too tired for such pointless
self-examination, however.
"Quieten down, kid," said Lamprey. "We'll go find Trout as soon as
I've stripped this rogue of everything he has."
Loach became irritable.
"Why are you so intent on winning? It doesn't mean anything!"
"Lady, it's a way of life," Lamprey replied. "Just like some of us
like to dress up in men's clothes and play at being something we
aren't, others among us just love acquiring wealth, whether it's GP or
yellow fruit, I don't care."
Loach fumed, and rose to her feet.
"I'm not hanging round to listen to this rubbish," she declared. "I'm
going to 'acquire' some food for myself."
She had barely gone a few paces, however, when she stopped, transfixed
by something that lay beyond Gogo. Lamprey stubbornly refused to take
note of this, but Gogo was fearful enough to look over his shoulder.
Where there had once been an unremarkable patch of grass now towered a
massive, limbless, purple-skinned creature, all body and mouth. The
body disappeared beneath the ground it had tunnelled through, while the
mouth was red and toothless. It had no eyes and remained utterly still,
thereby creating the illusion that it was not at all aware of the three
shipwrecked sailors assembled before it. Gogo was sure that it was all
too aware of them.
"I propose that we endeavour to escape," he said, quietly.
"What are you talking about?"
Lamprey looked up and saw the monster for the first time.
"Maybe you're right," he said.
Gogo and Loach backed away, slowly and nervously, while the chief
engineer began to gather up his bananas with equal caution. A light
wind danced about them, but the creature still did not move. The wind
became heavier, sweeping some of Lamprey's gold out of his arms. He
cussed, and stooped to pick them up again. But the wind gathered pace,
rapidly increasing in strength, until it was evident to each of them
that it was not blowing at all, but sucking. Sucking them towards the
giant, toothless mouth. Loach called to Lamprey: "Forget the bananas!
It's trying to eat us!" Lamprey didn't hear, or else didn't listen.
Either way, he continued to clutch at his winnings, even as they were
rising in the air current and spiralling towards the beast.
"You idiot!" shouted Loach.
Lamprey himself was now leaving the ground. Loach and Gogo clung
tightly to a tree, feeling the muscles in their arms strain. They
closed their eyes as clods of earth showered into their faces and burst
into fragments, and when they looked again, Lamprey was gone. The tree
to which they clung gave a mighty creak as its roots began to lift away
from the soil. Gogo realised it would not remain rooted if they both
hung on. So he let go.