Sabotage (Part Three)

The meal was satisfying, if fairly bland. That combination of a full
belly and invigorating anticipation made Gogo feel more powerful than
ever before, so much so that he felt the need to exert his power. He
hadn't battled a worthwhile adversary for weeks and sensed strongly his
clusters of muscle, idle beneath his many robes and itching to be used.
The sensation surprised him; though violence was often thrilling its
sole achievement was destruction. Gogo feared and despised destruction.
This temptation fought with the very core of his rationality, so
relentlessly that he felt as if some foreign power were controlling
him. Gogo suppressed it but the effort stole away his concentration,
leaving him unable to continue conversing.
Fortunately, Trout had ordered immediate assembly on the deck of 'The
Flying Carp' and with the exception of Burbot the entire crew were
hastily making sure that all their possessions and necessities were
about them. In addition, Mugwort was fixing his hair with a foamy,
jelly-like substance while practicing his smile in a hand-held mirror,
Loach was adjusting to perfection every item of clothing he wore and
Orfe was counting out-loud the tails of his whip. Gogo, who carried all
his worldly wealth on his person, was able to distance himself from
them and reach the gangplank. Burbot saw him, but dithered as to
whether he should follow, and in the end did nothing.
Once on board, Gogo quickly expended his mounting energy practicing
every skill that came to mind. He juggled his knives, somersaulted
across the deck, cartwheeled down the banisters and climbed down the
side of the ship. There he dipped his boots in the water and clambered
back up again, ascending the slippery wall of 'The Flying Carp' as if
it were a staircase. These tricks, he mused, were not of his own
invention but shadows of other creatures. He, Gogo, was nothing more
than a mimic. With an angry shout he sent his last air skean streaking
across the water away from the boat. Mountains of white wave rose
around it, then fell back into the sea as the elemental projectile
dispersed. Gogo didn't even know how he'd done it; he just could.
His muscles worn by this frustrated exercise, he at last began to feel
restraint flooding his body. Satisfied, he returned to the gangplank
and saw that the most organised of the others were boarding the
ship.
"Show-off," said Communications Officer Loach, shoving past Gogo.
"Your sort always want to be the first in everything."
"There's no need to adopt that attitude, sonny," First Officer
Natterjack warned him. "We're all friends here. Don't forget we have a
common enemy."
"Aye, sea monsters!" declared Munitions Officer Gudgeon, who
brandished a great curved sword in one hand. "I'm looking forward to
meeting them."
"Egotistical idiots," muttered Loach.
One by one, the other members of the crew joined them, arranging
themselves in two ragged lines across the deck of the ship. Trout was
the last to board and spent a good deal of time pacing up and down with
a proud eye turned to his little herd, before at last saying: "You all
know ye duties. Find ye own quarters and make yerselves comfortable,
then man ye posts. We set sail in fifteen minutes."
Finding quarters exclusive to himself proved difficult for Gogo, for
he soon found there to be four hammocks in each tiny cabin and no
separate staterooms for officers and cooks. Reflecting dismally on his
own misinterpretation, he laid claim to a lower level hammock in the
same quarters that Loach and Gudgeon had arrived at. Loach in
particular seemed to be distressed at the lack of space.
"It's unhygienic," he squeaked. "I can't stand being so close to other
men! They sweat so much, and all their fleas and germs jump at
me."
"You two are both new additions to the crew, aren't you?" asked
Gudgeon. "I can tell you're not 'zactly used to all of this. Just be
glad you ain't sleeping with Orfe or any of Lamprey's engineers - they
snore louder than the bleeding engine!"
"And you don't, I suppose?" huffed Loach.
"Dunno. I never heard myself!"
Gudgeon exploded into spittling laughter. He and Loach had slung heavy
cloth sacks into their respective hammocks, his full of clanging
weaponry, Loach's bursting with softer equipment that Gogo would later
find to be nothing but changes of clothes and washing equipment. Their
luggage, Gogo observed, was very much reflective of their appearance.
Gudgeon was a many-angled man, large bones jutting out all about him,
scarred and yet firmly constructed. Loach was far softer,
smooth-limbed, hued in light brown and shiny of hair. He, Gogo, who had
no luggage, concealed his appearance almost completely. That his height
was insubstantial was all that could be said of him. Pleased with this
analysis, he marked the hammock his own by the placing of a small
cooking pot and ladle on top of it.
"If you don't mind," said Loach, "I'm going to my post in the
wheelhouse now. It's too cramped in here."
Said Gudgeon when he had gone: "All the kid's got to do is run
coloured flags up and down a flagpole. He looks like a bloody Morris
dancer and all."
"To the galley I shall depart!" sang Gogo in reply. "I must be on hand
with the first meal of the voyage. Ahoy!"
Thus explained, he waved farewell to Gudgeon the weapon enthusiast and
began exploring the ship in the hope of finding the galley, his
temporary workstation and the key to discovering the pantry.

The first six days of sailing went well. Mild weather endured and few
arguments broke out, the only major folly being on the part of Burbot.
As navigation officer he was essentially responsible for the direction
of the ship and so when they found themselves, five hours into the
journey, travelling with the mainland around Nikeah off the port bow
serious questions were raised concerning Burbot's capability. Burbot
refused to admit his mistake, claiming that the ellipse they had
travelled in was necessary in order to gather essential stratospheric
information, and furthermore promised that in his hands they would not
travel a foot off course. When asked where their course lay, he replied
that such facts were negligible. No one was satisfied, least of all
Trout, who told Burbot to get himself together and do the job properly.
Burbot simply smiled and assured him there was nothing to concern
himself over.
Gogo resolved his dilemma over the pantry through the discovery of a
vast horde of foodstuffs nestled in the bowels of the ship, and was
even more enraptured when he found a copy of Halibut's 'Groper's Guide
To Seafaring Recipes' hidden among the shelves. The book had caused
quite a stir when first released, he was informed by Trout, and as such
was a favourite among housewives. Gogo cooked seven luncheons and three
dinner banquets from the instructions within, taking care to miss out
the more aggressive techniques wherever possible. The rest of the meals
prepared in those six days - breakfasts, lunches and dinners - were
born out of Gogo's own memory. Whilst his claim to have been capable of
all things shipwise was false, he had indeed encountered more than one
chef on his travels and assimilated their skills. Gogo was a master
cook, and the crew quickly learnt to respect him as such. Natterjack
even stated at one point that it was fortunate Halibut had died, or
they wouldn't have had Gogo to cook for them. "Halibut was defecting to
the other side anyway. He was getting greedy for status."
At nights, Gogo's dreaming was regularly interrupted by visions of
Ukulele. On one occasion she was clawing endlessly at the inside of the
crate and howling in agony while he, Gogo, was trapped behind an open
porthole too small for him to squeeze through. On another she was
dressed in gypsy clothes like he himself, and he was a child. She was
scolding him, saying, "That's twice now you've deserted me." Gogo
dismissed all such visions as bilge.
Loach continued to abhor the sleeping arrangements and complained
relentlessly about the grimier habits of the other crew members, even
sniping at Gogo with a remark to the effect that wearing the same
garments daily was "foul." Curiously, when drunk he took on a different
personality altogether. He laughed shrilly and continuously, slapped
people on the back and even offered to take his clothes off for them on
the second night. The offer did not enthuse the other revellers.
Gudgeon was far more amiable, but Gogo found that his passtimes were
restricted to throwing knives at a dartboard he'd chalked on the wall
of Trout's personal quarters. Sometimes he would throw them from the
other end of the deck, once angering Orfe by doing so. Orfe threatened
to beat him so sore he'd never throw again and for a moment the two
squared up against each other in preparation for battle. Somewhat
surprisingly to Gogo, it was Orfe who backed down, saying that as long
as Gudgeon did not shirk his duties he would be allowed to
continue.
Another time, Gogo and Mugwort joined Gudgeon in his knife throwing.
Gogo picked it up fairly quickly, soon equalling Gudgeon's skill, but
Mugwort grew impatient and in a bitter fury threw one of Gogo's meat
knives over the side. He declared that "proper swashbucklers" didn't
waste time throwing knives but duelled honourably with cutlasses, then
declined Gudgeon's offer of such a duel. Instead, he asked to borrow a
sword to practice with, which Gudgeon mirthfully let him have. From
then on, when he wasn't cleaning, the sound of battle cries and
swishing blade emanated from Mugwort's quarters.
Gogo saw little of Lamprey, since the chief engineer resided in the
engine room. No one but officers and engineers were permitted in the
engine room, and on the few occasions when Gogo spoke with Lamprey he
was always curt and to the point except when discussing gold and
treasure. On the subject of gold and treasure, Lamprey babbled fluently
and poetically for great lengths of time, particularly around the
dining table. He had in his head tens or hundreds of plans detailing
how he would acquire extensive wealth and eventually become the most
well-to-do man in all of the world.
"Women on one side, riches on the other, millions of acres of land
stretching out before my feet! It'll all be mine, you wait and
see!"
Natterjack denounced him as a traitor to his class and told him he'd be
among the first to be banged up when the revolution occurred. Mugwort
said that Lamprey's dreams didn't strike him as particularly daring or
exciting.
Gadfly also remained unseen for most of those days, sheltering in
Trout's cabin while he wrote copiously and endlessly in the logbook,
despite being seemingly unaware of the events that unfolded around him.
The most direct part he took in the running of the ship was to warn
Orfe on several occasions that he suspected certain members of the crew
were plotting mutiny. Fortunately, Orfe was dissuaded from wreaking
vengeance and at his most violent merely throttled Mugwort for a few
moments.
The other sailors on board - helmsmen, engineers, assistant navigators
and the like - whose names drifted past Gogo no matter how many times
they were mentioned, were without exception more proficient in their
duties and less willing to converse. They generally found Gogo
off-putting and whispered to each other about how dangerously
unconventional he seemed. Gogo decided it best to leave them be.
Of all the crew, he found Trout the easiest to talk to, for throughout
the journey he maintained a steady air of optimism, fuelled (it seemed
to Gogo) by his constantly lit pipe. He spent much of his time standing
at the prow of 'The Flying Carp' gazing out at the sea ahead of them in
the hope of seeing, shimmering on the horizon, the lush shores of his
lost continent. At sea, he seemed far removed from the crotchety
crustacean he had been in his own home. Perhaps, like Gogo, his real
home was not in one place.
"When the wind sweeps across me face," he said, "I feel like it's a
breath of life in me lungs, and me lungs are like sails, pushing me on
to a new destination. I knows it's out there, and I knows it's waiting
for me. I just got to keep moving on til this wind takes me
there."

On the seventh day Gogo rose, as he did routinely, long before Loach
and Gudgeon. On this occasion, however, they were both partially awake
and both groaning under the weight of a hefty hangover. Gudgeon's
occasional tuba-like wails were accompanied by the violin shriek of
Loach shouting, "Will you shut up? I'm trying to get my beauty sleep."
Gogo left them without a word and the ascended the creaking steps that
led to the topmost deck. He wanted to catch the sunrise.
Curiously, and a matter which led Gogo to be suspicious of Burbot's
promises, the sun rose off a different side of the boat almost every
day. On that particular morning he tracked it to the starboard side,
near the stern. This brought Gogo close to the door that led to the
engine room and as such he had only begun to settle down, leaning over
the side with his eyes fixed on the blazing red star, when the door
opened and a body barrelled into him from behind.
"I might've known it'd be you," growled Lamprey, as Gogo caught himself
mid-fall. "Always thought you were a strange one."
"Thought? Thought? What?" replied Gogo. "It's all Greek to me!"
"You denying it? Listen, clown-boy, it's going to take at least four
hours to repair that engine. Don't think you're going anywhere in that
time."
"I hadn't made any plans," Gogo admitted.
For a moment, Lamprey seemed about to strike him. He was distracted by
the appearance of two younger engineers behind him, whom he told to
keep watch over Gogo while he went to fetch the captain. They nodded,
saluted him and turned their attention to Gogo.
"I've got to be preparing breakfast soon, lads," Gogo implored them
once Lamprey was out of earshot. "Be good boys and run along
now."
"Shut it, saboteur!" said one. "One more word out of you and you'll get
a crack across the jaw."
"Oh. I'd like to see you try."
It was not Gogo's intention to convey hostility; he merely wished to be
through with these two as quickly as possible so he might get on with
his duties. They did not, however, take kindly to this last remark. One
of them swung his fist at Gogo's head. Gogo caught it in one hand and
retaliated with the other, landing a punch hard in the engineer's
stomach that knocked ten breaths out of him. The other pounced at Gogo,
but was sent tumbling back down the steps to the engine room by his
adversary's leaping kick. Gogo was a small man, easily underestimated,
but quite capable of violence when the adrenaline possessed him. Angry
that this unshakable demon had returned to his veins, he checked his
pocket watch. There was still time to spare before he needed to begin
making preparations for breakfast, but he felt the urge to seclude
himself in the galley at least until then.
He had barely advanced a matter of steps, however, when he heard a
voice hailing him.
"Oi, Gogo! Stop there, ye scurvy-ridden shark!"
Gogo turned to see Lamprey and Trout sprinting across the deck to catch
up with him. He waited obediently.
"What have you done to my men?" Lamprey asked angrily, upon seeing the
gasping engineer.
"They set upon me," Gogo explained.
"Is what he says true? You sabotaged the engine?" queried Trout.
"I did not! Whoever had been filling your head with such nonsense, my
dear?"
"One more word of insolence from you, lad, and I'll hand ye over to
Orfe!"
"What were you doing outside the engine room?" Lamprey demanded to
know.
Gogo answered: "I was witnessing the dazzling beauty of the sunrise. I
make it my business to."
Trout addressed Lamprey.
"If he was the saboteur ye won't have found him fannying about outside
the engine room."
"Perhaps that's what he wants us to think," Lamprey persisted.
"To be truthful, Lamprey, I don't rightly think he's got the wits about
him."
"So who do you think it was?"
"Could've been almost any one of the dogs. Must've sneaked out while
the others was asleep, gone off to the engine room and done the dirty
deed, then sneaked back just as quietly. Like a sneaking eel! I'll have
Natterjack round up the crew right away and I'll give 'em all a good
talking to."
Gogo was alarmed. If the crew were to be woken up earlier than usual
then they would want breakfast earlier than usual. He departed from
Trout and Lamprey's exchange and fled towards the galley, already
rifling through the pages of his memory in search of a fast and simple
recipe. He was not overly concerned about the sabotaged engine. After
all, Lamprey had said he'd be able to fix it in four hours.

"I've lived with the sea by my side for thirty bleeding years," said
Gudgeon, "and I've never tasted fish like this one. Where the hell did
you get it from, cook?"
On the second day of the journey Gogo had fashioned a simple fishing
rod for the purpose of fishing from the side of the ship, as there were
insufficient varieties of fish among the ice barrels to supplement many
of his recipes. As such, the sight of him catching fish when 'The
Flying Carp' was at full speed was a familiar one, and Gudgeon assumed
that the amalgamation of eggs, dried milk and flour that adorned on his
plate was simply a species unfamiliar to him.
"Tis a pancake," Gogo informed him.
"Well I'll be! Ain't never heard of one them before, not even from them
retired old sailors with their tales of mermaids and squids the size of
a ship."
"There you are then, boys," Trout guffawed. "We's already in unexplored
waters! Not long now before we reach the fabled lost continent."
"Not long?" A disappointed Mugwort prodded his pancake cautiously.
"Surely, Cap'n, we're bound to encounter some fearsome pirates or
bewitching sirens before then?"
"We'll all be at the bottom of the sea before then," Orfe said, "if we
don't catch ourselves this treacherous saboteur and feed him to the
sharks. Argh! When I think that he's in the room with us now, that it's
one of you!"
His raging eyes swept the room in search of a guilty expression. Most
were too busy contemplating their pancakes.
"Not necessarily here, Orfe," Natterjack said. "Lamprey and his lot are
at the other side of the ship fixing the engine."
Gadfly suddenly looked up.
"Ah, you think it's Lamprey, do you?" he murmured.
"Aye! I do. He's the capitalist traitor, all right and I bet he's
working for the Empire. They'll have offered him a pretty little reward
for wrecking our mission. We've got to interrogate him as soon as
possible!"
Gadfly, satisfied, returned to his breakfast.
"We can't interrogate him, First," Trout said grimly. "We needs him as
chief engineer."
"How convenient," muttered Natterjack.
At which point Loach angrily stabbed his fork into the table.
"Oh, don't be such a moron!" he snapped. "How can Lamprey get his money
if he's adrift at sea with the rest of us?"
"And who do you suspect?" Gadfly asked him.
"I'll tell you who - Burbot. He's been leading us round and round in
circles ever since we began. I wouldn't be surprised if we sailed
straight back into harbour as soon as that engine's fixed."
"Then why break the engine at all?" Gadfly persisted, while Burbot
merely smiled and shook his head.
"To make us more utterly fed up with this sorry excuse for an ocean
voyage than we already are, so by the time we get back we're too
relieved to lay the blame on him."
"You're the one seems so bloody eager to be done with it," said
Gudgeon. "Maybe you want to make us turn back? Maybe you think we've
gone far enough, yeah Loach?"
"Not to mention you're a new addition to the crew," growled Orfe. "Who
knows if we can trust you?"
"If the saboteur were a man, he'd reveal himself and fight me to the
death!" declared Mugwort.
"Ah, yer suggesting it were a woman, are ye?" Trout asked.
"I don't like to mention it," put in Burbot, "but perhaps the spirit of
Ukulele is riding with us!"
Gadfly turned to Gogo.
"And what do you think, cook? You seem oddly silent?"
Gogo was taken aback by this remark and did not immediately reply. The
others looked to him, suspicion etched on their faces, awaiting his
answer. Orfe glowered menacingly and made as if to stand up. This
movement at last shook Gogo's voice free, but before he could speak the
entire room shuddered loudly and violently, throwing the crew out of
their chairs and scattering the pancakes across the table and floor.
The first among them to stand were barely on their feet when an
engineer burst into the room chanting, "Pirates!"
"At last!" exclaimed Mugwort, bolting for the door.
"You fool!" Natterjack yelled after him. "They're allies!"
He, Orfe and Trout stumbled after Mugwort, while Gudgeon made a grab at
Gogo's arm.
"Allies my arse," he said. "Help me get the bleeding weapons out. You
lot as well." He indicated several anonymous sailors and, among them,
Loach. Burbot and Gadfly seemed shaken into inactivity, for they both
remained crouched on the floor with no inclination to move. One man was
inspecting his injury.
Gudgeon led Gogo and Loach down a corridor, up some stairs and round a
corner. There he handed Gogo a key and pointed to a heavy oaken
door.
"Pistols and swords in there. I'm going to get summat from my private
stash."
He glanced at Loach.
"Don't arm yourself too heavily, kid. You might fall over."
"Arrogant oaf!" said Loach, as Gudgeon raced away to their quarters and
Gogo wrestled with the lock on the great door. A moment later it
clicked loudly and the ship's cook heaved it open. The other sailors
rushed in, gathered up armfuls of weapons and fled back towards the top
deck. Loach hesitated.
"You go first, cook," he said. "I'll take what's left."
Judging by the hordes of dull silver blades and barrels that still
glinted there in the gloom, Gogo was doubtful as to whether Loach could
achieve this. Nevertheless, he took up a stack of weapons in his own
arms and made to follow the others. A sense of urgency gripped him and
he therefore took it to be no time for wondering at Loach's
disposition.

The pirates were greater in number, a fact which Gogo soon discovered
when he emerged into the sunlight and was momentarily blinded by an
army of shining cutlasses. Since 'The Flying Carp' had been sleeping
silently on the water her foes had decided there was no need to waste
cannonballs and had simply drawn alongside the helpless ship prior to
boarding. Now they were driving Trout's crew back towards the other
side of the ship with ease.
Gogo allowed the weapons he carried to clatter upon the deck and placed
a hand beneath his robes. There he unsheathed a knife, withdrew it and
flung himself into the thick of the fight. The pirates, despite having
command of longer-reaching weapons, were not matches for Gogo's
knivesmanship, taken from the master assassin Antares and his
disciples. Every thrust was deflected so it fell just aside of Gogo's
waist, every cut thrown wildly off course and every limb that strayed
too close run through. Red flecked across the flaxen weave of his
outermost gown. Gogo did not lunge for their necks; it was too bloody
for his tastes.
By his side, Gudgeon emerged as the only member of Trout's crew equally
capable of stemming the flow of enemies. A sword in each hand, his
victories were far gorier than Gogo's, severing arms and raking chests
with much zeal. In one brief glance, while he spun to parry a swing at
his midriff, Gogo saw Gudgeon bring his blades together as one might a
pair of scissors, straight across the gut of an adversary.
"This is the life, Gogo!" he roared joyfully. "If I'd known we were
going to have such fun, I'd have broken that engine myself!"
"Maybe, maybe, maybe," Gogo shouted in return. "Maybe everyone's
favourite saboteur did know such a thing!"
The two of them were by then alone at the forefront of the fight. Three
blades came at Gogo at once. He leapt up, extracting a second knife
from its sheath as he did so. When he landed, two of the swords grated
fiercely against the small daggers in his hands while the third was
pressed flat beneath his boots. Carving a circle in the charged air he
threw the two away from him, at the same time placing a foot in the
chin of the other's owner. The one to his left was swiftly cut down by
Gudgeon, who now drew a pistol from his belt. Before he could bring it
up to bear, however, he was set upon by another of the villains, and in
his haste to split his assailant from head to groin shot himself in the
foot.
Gogo dispatched the one to the right, raced forth and threw another
over the side. The pirates' numbers, not so long ago in their favour,
were now heavily depleted and members of Trout's crew who were not
injured or dead were beginning to surge forward. Their attention was
turned to the three small cannons that flanked the side of the
ship.
"Gudgeon!" Trout called to the bloodthirsty munitions officer, who
despite his holed foot was still hacking at passing bodies. "The key to
the munitions cupboard!"
Wearily, though not wearily enough to stop him running through another
pirate - the one Gogo had kicked in the mouth - Gudgeon detached the
key from his belt and tossed it to Trout.
"Orfe, Lamprey!" Trout commanded.
Orfe dropped the man he was choking and, along with Lamprey, followed
Trout to the munitions cupboard. They covered him while he unlocked it
and began rolling out cannonballs. Orfe gathered one up with a spare
hand and charged headlong towards the nearest starboard-facing
mechanical cannon.
Gogo, in a rare moment of inactivity, watched all this with intense
curiosity. How brave and powerful even bullies and treasure-seekers
became when forced into dire circumstances! This thought of his was
broken by the interference of another descending blade. He threw it off
course with a slight movement and turned to face Natterjack.
"Now I know who I should be fighting with!" said Natterjack, bringing
the saber round to point at Gogo's throat.
"Sir," Gogo replied. "My arse!"
Natterjack thrust forwards, but Gogo feinted out of the way and with an
upward cut of his knife sliced off the end of the first officer's hand.
Natterjack bawled out, and Gogo pushed him over the wooden rail and
into the sea. Such was the fate of people who invent their sides to
suit their convenience, Gogo thought. Behind him, the cannon roared and
the sound of splintering wood filled the air.