Presenting: the last installment of The Science Geek Triumphant.  

The Science Geek Triumphant: Part Three

By John Milliken

Stephen caught the turban on his head as it began to slip down again. He would’ve never agreed to go disguised as a merchant if he had known how uncomfortable turbans were going to be. He was also wearing various robe-like garments, but underneath, he wore leather trousers and a chainmail shirt. A knife and a length of rope were tucked in his belt.

“So here we go,” he thought, stepping out onto the dock, “And I thought fighting dragons was bad. I don’t have much hope of getting through this alive.” The thought shocked him. He had thought about death before, of course, but always from the outside, like a third-person observer. He had never thought of it as the sort of thing that happens to him, what it must be like, the terror, the suspense, the mystery.

As he stood there, a firm resolve arose within him, not to necessarily get out alive, but to complete his mission; not just to escape with his life, but to succeed. Whether or not he lived through the success seemed of secondary importance.

Stephen adjusted his turban again. Then, looking at the play of the sun’s rays over the surface of the water, he climbed onto the boat. It wasn’t very big, perhaps thirty feet long, and it rocked slightly in the water. Then the anchor was lifted, and he set sail.

There was a crew of ten merchants on the ship (not counting Stephen), and their cargo consisted of oil and spices. While the merchants bustled around, Stephen sat on the deck, watching the water, the movements of the seagulls and the clouds above him and, occasionally, another boat passing by. The sky clouded over and it drizzled, but Stephen dozed through it. Then, he was awaked from sleep by shouting and by someone shaking him. They had arrived at Dagoth’s realm.

Dagoth had his castle located on an island. He imported only luxury items, his surfs supplying the whole island with food, clothes, and weapons. The island’s shore’s consisted almost entirely of tall, steep cliffs, with fortified towers at the top. In short, it was designed perfectly to be extremely difficult to attack and easy to defend.

The boat docked at a small, pebbly beach, where several of Dagoth’s soldiers came to welcome the merchants. The soldiers led the men to a skinny, stone staircase that led several hundred feet up the cliff walls. Once at the top, the soldiers then led them down into a valley, mostly filled with huts and cultivated fields, although some of the buildings were obviously barracks. It was getting late, so the party was advised to spend the night in one of the huts and show their wares to Dagoth the next morning.

“Now,” one of the soldiers said, “There’s only room for ten men in this hut, so one of you will have to sleep in the loft.”

“I’ll do it!” Stephen volunteered instantly. He soon regretted being so enthusiastic. He already clearly looked different from the other merchants, and this, combined with his strange enthusiasm, made him stand out. The soldier looked at him suspiciously, then went off, leaving the merchants to themselves. Stephen climbed into the loft and settled down in the straw. He was so tense that he probably wouldn’t fall asleep, but just in case, he cleared the straw to the side and lay on the hard boards. There was one window, (without any glass in it, of course,) in the loft, and he lay facing this. At this time of year, he figured, it wouldn’t be completely dark out till seven. He wanted to leave plenty of time for the escape, but also wanted to make sure that any activity in the castle had died down by the time he started. If he planned on starting at midnight, that would be five hours past dark. 300 minutes. Or, 18,000 seconds. So all he had to do was wait until it got dark, then count to 18,000, and then somehow formulate a plan.

Stephen groaned. He had a long night ahead of him.

***

“17,995; 17,996; 17,997; 17,998; 17,999; 18,000.” Stephen stretched and sat up. He adjusted his turban again, then crawled over to the window. He stuck his head out of the window and looked both ways. Just to be sure the coast was clear, he leaned out a little farther. There, almost directly underneath him, a soldier was pacing back and forth. Stephen watched the soldier march back and forth a few times until he got a good idea of when he would be farthest away. Looking down again, he saw that, mercifully, there was a stack of hay underneath the window. Once the soldier was at the far end of his patrol, Stephen held his breath and dived into the pile. He hastily pulled some hay over him and then remained motionless. He could hear the thump of feet get louder, then quieter, then louder, then quieter. He waited until the footsteps were quiet but not quite at their quietest, then crept out of the haystack and slipped behind the corner of the building. What he needed now was to get a good view of the terrain. Looking around, he saw a large, gnarled oak tree. He slowly climbed it and examined the terrain.

The interior of the island, it seemed, consisted of a bowl-shaped valley, with fields all along the edges. In the very middle was a shallow lagoon with a peninsula jutting out into it. He couldn’t see it well in the dark, but he guessed that the castle, and probably Celia, were located there. He climbed down the tree and set out.

Although the merchants’ sleeping quarters were guarded, most of the buildings didn’t seem to be. There were, however, several soldiers patrolling the streets, so Stephen couldn’t take too direct a course. He spent most of the trip hiding behind buildings and slinking through fields of grain. It was nerve-wracking, but relatively uneventful.

Finally, Stephen approached the peninsula. His first look at the castle was not very encouraging. After crawling out from behind a boulder, there it was, as if it had just materialized out of nowhere. The moon was almost full, shedding a dim light on the black, menacing towers of stone. The peninsula leading up to the castle was very narrow, with guards positioned along it at various points. How could he possibly get in without being seen?

Getting back on all fours, Stephen crawled up to the peninsula. Rather than go straight up to the castle, he crawled over to the edge of the peninsula and slid down the muddy bank. Stephen tried to stop sliding, but before he could-splash! – he was in the water. Grabbing a tree root, he hauled himself up and sat there, shivering, as it was a cold October night. The sound of footsteps got closer. Frantic, Stephen climbed into a hollow underneath the tree roots. The footsteps got closer and stopped.

“Did you hear that?” a voice called out.

“That I did,” said another.

“Na, you didn’t hear nothing,” a third chimed in. “I say you was just imagining it.”

“Well,” the second voice said, “There’s certainly not anyone here now.”

“That there isn’t,” said the third voice, “and never was there, I warrant.” The footsteps died away into the distance. After waiting a few minutes, Stephen crawled out. He fairly quickly found a trail he could follow that was straight enough to walk upright on and low down enough that he still couldn’t be seen by the guards. The ground was very muddy, however, and his footprints were very easily seen. Stephen took his cloak off, folded it over twice, and laid it on the ground. He walked over it, took his turban off and laid it on the ground, then stood on the turban. He peeled the cloak off the ground. The mud looked disturbed, but there weren’t any recognizable footprints.

Stephen slowly picked his way over the mud in this manner, walking over the cloak, standing on the turban, walking on the cloak, and so on. It was long and tiring way to travel, but he did finally reach the base of the castle. There were some fairly low windows, but there were several guards patrolling around the wall. Digging a rock out of the mud, Stephen threw it as far away from him as he could. It made a satisfying splash, sending all the guards running towards the sound. Stephen ran up to the castle and started climbing the wall. He nearly slipped a few times, but was making good time, when one of the guards came back. Stephen froze solid. The guard kept walking by. Stephen very slowly began to climb higher, and had his hand on the windowsill, when his mud-spattered turban fell with a plop. The guard looked down at the turban, and Stephen threw himself through the window, crashing on the floor. The guard didn’t look up on time to see Stephen, but he did hear the crashing.

“Come over here!” he shouted to his fellows. “Someone was here.” Stephen got up and looked around. He was in a curved hallway. Stephen wasn’t sure of where to go, so he slowly walked down the hall. Then, he saw a servant coming towards him.

“Name!” Stephen demanded, trying to sound authoritative.

“William, sir,” the servant responded.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m-er-going to make sure that all the doors outside are locked.” Stephen’s heart sank as he thought of his escape, but he kept up his air of authority and asked, “Where is the duke’s daughter staying?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Then I’ll go report you for withholding information from your superior.” Stephen turned to leave, when the servant called out, “Actually, I could show you.”

“Do it then,” said Stephen. The servant quickly went off down the hall, Stephen striding after him, until they reached a door. Stephen said, “Be off now,” to William, and prepared to knock on the door, when William stood between him and the door and said, “You aren’t going in there, are you? Dagoth has strict orders that no one is to have anything to do with Celia.” Realizing that he couldn’t disguise his mission any longer, Stephen grabbed William by the shirt, drew his knife, and hissed at William, “Look here. I am in here to help save Celia from her bloodthirsty father. If I were you, I would help me get her out. Go back with us, and I’ll do everything in my power to see that you get a fair treatment.” Stephen thrust William out of the way and knocked on the door.

“Soldiers!” William cried. “We have an intruder!” Stephen lunged for William, but tripped and fell on the floor as William ran down the hall. Stephen moaned and began to get up when a young woman with long dark hair and a green dress opened the door and walked out.

“Celia,” Stephen said. “I am Stephen. I am here on behalf of Jacob and the king. Come with me, or your father will try to kill you.”

“I know that my life is in danger,” Celia responded, “but how do I know that you are going to bring me to Jacob?” Stephen drew Jacob’s knife and handed it to her. She examined the handle and said, “I’ll go with you. How should we get out?”

“Follow me!” Stephen cried, running back down the way that William had led him. Celia followed, until they reached the window by which Stephen had climbed in. He looked out, only to see soldiers waving swords and shouting. He ducked just before an arrow flew through the window.

“We can’t go this way!” he cried. “Let’s try the next window!”

“Stephen!” Celia gasped. “I hear footsteps in the hall behind us! Please, hurry up!” Stephen needed no second bidding, rushing to the next window only to see guards waiting for him there, too. At this point, quite a few of Dagoth’s soldiers were only a few yards behind, swords drawn. Picking Celia up in his arms, Stephen ran the other way. A terrifying chase ensued. Stephen stayed ahead, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never shake his pursuers. The gap between them, only a few yards to begin with, gradually shrank, Stephen feeling more exhausted with every step, while his pursuers showed no sign of tiring. No matter how hard he tried to work his way back towards the lower windows, he kept drifting higher and higher up, until, finally, he found himself in the open air on top of a turret. He looked down, but there were no guards on the ground below.

“Celia!” he said, taking the rope out, “Tie this to that flagpole, and climb down. I’ll follow as soon as I can.” Celia took the rope, just as a soldier burst out onto the turret. Stephen hit him and knocked him down, but another jumped up. Stephen swung the knife at him, and he jumped back to avoid it, sending the men behind him falling down the stairs like dominoes. Stephen took the opportunity to follow Celia down the rope, keeping the knife in his teeth. They were nearing the bottom, with about twenty feet to go, when one of the soldiers grabbed the rope and began to climb down. Taking the knife from between his teeth, Stephen cut the rope above his head and found himself hitting the mud with a splash. He and Celia got up and ran along the edge of the water.

“I see a rowboat over there,” Celia said, pointing a little ways away. They ran wildly and jumped in the boat. Stephen rowed it out into the lagoon, then found a channel leading into the open sea.

“There!” Stephen said, “We made it!” when he heard a swishing sound. Dagoth’s men were following them! Another chase commenced, this one more terrifying than the first. Stephen got a much more substantial head start than he did before, but the trip by boat took several hours. The enemy boats were getting closer and closer. Stephen’s arms ached, and arrows began to land near the rowboat.

“It can’t be much farther at this point,” Stephen thought to himself, and then, in horror, he realized, “They’re trying to surround us!” Turning to Celia, he said, “We’re being surrounded, but I think we’ve almost reached land. I only see one way to get you out of this alive. In the harbor ahead are the king’s battleships, ready to start the attack on Dagoth’s island. Try to swim out to them and tell them to commence the attack. Meanwhile, I’ll stay here to distract them so they don’t notice you.” Celia slipped into the water, and Stephen began to row towards deeper water, trying to draw the boats away from Celia. The boats got closer and closer, until Stephen was in the middle of an ever-shrinking circle. Arrows were hitting the water all around him, and one stuck in his chainmail. So, it was to end in death after all. Even if it did end in death, though, it did not end in failure. He had succeeded in his mission. Another arrow stuck in the bottom of the boat. Stephen gritted his teeth and prepared himself for death. Just then, the rain of arrows stopped. He looked up, only to see the ring of boats breaking up. Farther off but getting nearer, their sails reflecting the first rays of the sun, he saw the king’s ships. He had been saved.

***

Thus Stephen succeeded in his mission and lived to tell about it. There was a naval battle in which the king’s ships were victorious, after which Dagoth surrendered and was taken prisoner. He was arrested, and Jacob, who recovered from his injury, married Celia and was made the duke of the island. Stephen received many honors for his valorous conduct, and was given command over dragon prevention measures. Still, he felt that his trip had served its purpose and that the time had come for him to go home.

Stephen mulled all this over one day as he was walking through the woods (he never did take to horseback riding). He got down on the ground to pick up an especially brilliant leaf, when a very powerful wind began to blow. Stephen crouched lower, but the wind still blew, and blew, and blew, until…

He was sitting in front of his own shed.

***

Although Stephen kept his job as the professional science geek, there was undeniably a change in him. He smiled more. He laughed more. He talked more, and he also listened more. He no longer treated his family, church, and community as side interests of his, but put his all into them.

Stephen never in the least bit doubted that his strange experiences were real events. For one, while maintaining all the usual marks of sanity, he was occasionally taken back to the strange lands he had seen on his first adventure. Furthermore, when he came back to our world, a quick check revealed that several weeks had elapsed and that the police were looking for him, and it was totally implausible to posit that he had lain outside, unconscious, for weeks on end. Finally, the change in his character was far beyond what could be attributed to a dream.

Stephen never really did discover the mechanism by which he had been transported to and from this other world and ours. It could have been some freak of nature; it could have been something else.

Either way, Jacob was certainly right when he said that it was far from pointless.

THE END