Seeking the Mythical Future Read Online Free Page A

down his spine and his mouth was hot and parched.
    Kristiensen was straining to hear what the man was trying to say. The words, when they came, were mingled with his breath, barely above a whisper.
    â€˜What is it? What does he say?’ asked Mr Swann.
    The Captain straightened up, the lines like furrows on his forehead. ‘It’s difficult to make out. He keeps repeating the same words, something that sounds like “Time no longer” or “Will be time no longer”. Does that make sense to anyone?’
    The Second Mate said grimly, ‘I wouldn’t expect it to make sense, not coming from him. He’s a queer cove, as is obvious to anyone with eyes in his head.’
    â€˜Will he be all right?’ Mr Standish asked.
    â€˜I believe so.’ Kristiensen stood up to his full height, his head almost touching the beams. ‘We must let him rest, then feed him as soon as he’s conscious. Mr Swann, is there a man you can trust to keep watch over him? We need someone of a calm disposition who can keep his mouth shut and not blab to the rest of the crew. Any more shocks or surprises and we’ll have a mutiny on our hands.’ He stepped into the passage, the First Mate close behind, and they returned to the Captain’s quarters.
    There was an atmosphere aboard the barque that night that was almost tangible: a presence pervading everywhere, above and below deck. The air was sultry, the vessel drifting languidly beneath the canopy of stars on its silent lonely course; behind it the knife-edge track of bubbling phosphorescence stretching like a slug’s trail to the black horizon.
    Kristiensen found sleep impossible. He tried to read a book which dealt with the origin and meaning of ancient symbols – hoping to find and identify the mark imprinted on the man’s shoulder – but his concentration kept sliding off the page, and after a while he snapped the book shut and went up to the quarter-deck where Mr Swann was taking the second watch. Because of the presence of the man at the wheel they talked of inconsequential matters, avoiding any mention of the stranger and striving to keep their voices calm and unconcerned. From deep below, within the bowels of the ship, there came now and then the sharp crack of a whiplash followed by a dull murmur of dark voices which gradually faded into the night; nothing else disturbed the calm.
    Towards dawn, with the vessel still asleep it seemed, the seaman whom Mr Swann had chosen to keep watch over the stranger – he was a boy of eighteen – appeared on deck and ran like a shadow to the companion-ladder, calling for the Second Mate to come quickly. Kristiensen stepped to the forward rail and demanded sharply to know what was the matter. The boy came up on to the quarter-deck, his sunburnt face almost invisible in the darkness and his bleached hair gleaming like a cap of silver.
    â€˜They’re in the cabin, I couldn’t stop them.’ The boy was gasping and visibly trembling. ‘They said he had a curse uponhim and would make the ship founder. I could do, nothing, they—’
    â€˜How many of them?’ Kristiensen said crisply.
    â€˜Four, five, I’m not sure. The Summarian said—’
    â€˜I might have known he’d have a hand in this; the others wouldn’t have had the nerve on their own. What was it he said?’
    â€˜He – he said,’ the boy stuttered. ‘He said the man, the stranger, had the mark of the beast upon him. He said the brand on his shoulder was the sign of the Evil Eye and that we would all perish if he wasn’t cast back into the sea.’
    The Second Mate spoke urgently in the Captain’s ear. ‘Mr Standish has the cabin adjoining. Do you think he’s safe?’
    â€˜He has a pistol, he should be able to defend himself if necessary. But we must hurry if we’re to save the stranger from harm.’ Kristiensen addressed the