Chapter 9: On the Far Side of Everything (1805)

The first sense I had was of warmth. Humidity. A lank air that can only be the tropics. 

Sweet scent of salt and living vegetation.

Gentle feel of being on sheltered waves, moving at a clip.

I have come to realize, only after all these bounces, that in this beginning time I am sharing a body. Which, it flashed through me just then, means my real body is also being shared. I closed my eyes, trying to stop going fully into this body that was in the tropics. And I willed myself to exert every bit of my energy to go back to my body in the lab.

For long, fragile moments, I hung in the balance there. I sensed her panicked confusion ... I didn't understand the words she muttered to herself, this woman into whose body I was meant to bounce, but I understood her thoughts.

She wanted to reach out, to grab the side of a boat she had been riding in ... to steady herself.

That was a great idea, I thought ... I reached out to grab hold of the armrest of whatever lab chair I was in ... I felt plastic under my palms and metal under the grasping tips of my fingers. I smiled.

I opened my eyes. I saw the light of the lab ... florescent above me, a stronger beam in my eyes. I heard Alia say she'd lost me ... was I conscious yet?

The other woman moaned. I think I did as well. I tried to reach out for Alia. I wanted to tell her ... something ... anything ... just she'd know it was me there, back in the lab.

But the moment I opened my mouth, I tasted sea spray. Tangy, salty, coolness on warm lips. My hand now gripped wood, rough and warm and sticky with ocean salt.

And that must have been when I lost the fragile hold I'd had on my own body, in the lab's awareness. It was the tangible feel and taste of the other environment ... the one the damned computer Phineus was trying to get me to bounce into.

The scene shifted before my eyes ... it wavered for a moment ... and then sunlight and blue ocean flooded my eyesight.

I gasped.

Men wearing little more than circles of fronds in their hair were laboring at oars in the front of the boat as I faced out to the open ocean. I swiveled around to find out where I was. I moved slowly in the bouncing canoe-type craft in order to combat the lingering dizziness of the bounce. A tropical cove curved behind me ... indecent lush greenery raced away from the sandy beach and the gentle wave action there.

Oh boy, I thought.

I knew where I hoped I was if I was having to have one more bounce.

Oh boy, oh boy.

It was a film I'd seen ... and if I was going to be chasing this man through his movies, then at last, I'd bounced into one I not only knew, but knew well.

I turned the other way and swept the bay with my hopeful eyes. And smiled at the sight before me with such relief.

The Surprise. Sails neatly tucked, anchor ropes taut, men in uniform hanging from every place above and below deck you could imagine.

As we neared, I looked down at myself and recognized the gentle wrap of a sarong that the female Polynesian-type island natives had worn as they circled and traded with the Surprise and her crew. I was holding a small umbrella, obviously for shade.

Ah, yes.

Then I was the woman ... the one and only woman to cross the path of Lucky Jack Aubrey in the entire film. Except that all she'd ever done was trade an enticing, longing glance with him ... but I knew instantly this was a scene or two before that look.

Was that really as close as I'd ever get to him? To the man I'd chased through 20 novels? The man who'd inspired me to learn all about knot tying and splicing? The one who made me learn about Admiral Nelson long after I'd thought I'd been done with studying history?

The man whose image I'd sought, foolishly as it turned out, in a golden haired British Naval officer attached to the British Embassy only to find he bore not the least bit of either Captain Aubrey's adorable ways with wenches or devoted ways to his wife?

Nor were Lucky Jack's fearsome military courage and brains either an attribute this latter day master and commander ever really had in his possession, though I had been too hopeful and missed the signs until far too late.

There was something I was here to put right in this film, wasn't there, I thought to myself. Isn't that what I was there for? To make sure they hewed to the line they were supposed to? To avert whatever might be about to set them wrong?

My eyes latched onto the stern ... to the windows, paned and wavy, above the ship's name. I could see him in there, standing in the light, his hair burnt gold ... his tight pants and billowing shirt ecru. He sipped from a China cup. He studied us. No doubt, he'd been on deck when all the anchoring machinations had taken place and then retired to his cabin for a bit of refreshment served by Killick.

And now he simply watched with a distracted distance between us. He was almost certainly only determining our use to his ship's mission ... would we have goods to trade? Fresh fruit? Game? Material they may use to make repairs? Would we have intelligence he could use?

What part of that man might also notice the women on these tiny dugouts? This idea made me smile in indulgent memories of Lucky Jack's ways with wenches.

I thought of Egan, lost somewhere behind me, still searching and not even aware he was searching for love and warmth and a companion for the seasons of his life. I thought of others of these men I'd met ... how they'd each affected me. How I'd felt each time, ripped away by the impending bounce ... the anger I'd once felt to come to the realization I knew not the way home.

Was I now resigned to this? To bouncing within the films? To putting things right before the film was changed to a point where it was no longer the world needed to support the characters' lives?

I looked up to the crow's nest. A ray of benign sun glinted off a piece of brass. It fractured with such clarity.

Was there not something I was to be learning from these bounces, I thought. Was there not something else at play? Why, I had already learned something in this bounce, had I not? It flashed inside my heart ... I had learned that in that unstable time of the actual bounce that if I was alert and ready to take advantage of the fragility of the bond with the body I was bouncing into, I could get back to the lab ... now I just had to do it with predetermination so that in the next bounce, I'd be ready to fight to stay in my body there in the lab.

At least in this bounce I knew nothing bad would happen. I knew how it would end. I would be on that dugout, looking up at Lucky Jack, a smile of longing on my lips. This then should be an easy bounce. What better position to be in for when Phineas next tried to bounce me from one film to the next? If I anticipated, concentrated, focused ... this could be the last bounce. Maybe that's all this was about ... me learning to control it ... maybe there was method to Phineas' madness, for if this were to ever be a usable or commercial technology, the bouncer had to have some control.

It was so warm. It was the opposite of where I'd been. And before me was a ship commanded by a man about as opposite of Egan as any I could know. In fact, truth be told, I'd lost my heart to Lucky Jack from the first Patrick O'Brien novel I'd read. This, now, was an opportunity no one should have to pass up.

Not since I knew how it would end.

What I could do then was affect what happened to this woman between the rowing out to the Surprise and the moment the camera next saw her as she sat in the dugout, looking up, as her fellow natives finished their trading with the ship and the missionary gave Stephen intelligence on their enemy.

All this time of silent musing, I studied those around me in this dugout.

Next to me, sat an older man ... up to that point, silent and calm. Now he barked short orders to the rowers ... and I understood him. He was telling them to circle the ship, to see what reception we'd get, to show off the wares carried in the other dugouts. This was when I studied the other similar dugouts flitting through the waves near us. There was an air of gaiety and promise. If these natives felt any fear or shock at the sight of this vast ship of war, they were doing a fantastic job of hiding it.

More than likely, such visits had happened before. After all, Jack had picked this harbor for a reason. He had to have anticipated friendly greetings from natives eager to trade.

And just then we cut across the ship's aft.

My brow furrowed. It had crossed my mind that in this dugout, there were no goods to exchange ... no fruit, no flowers, no meat ... Nothing except ... except me and this man. What did this make us? Royalty? The man did seem to be in charge, after all.

I dipped away the shade of my umbrella to look up at Aubrey. The movement no doubt caught his sharp eyes as he couldn't help but study the female flesh on display ... on offer? Was that what I was? An offering to him? Or a bartering chip?

His lips pursed and then he tilted his head at me. My heart jolted inside my chest. I felt a smile break out on my face and felt my cheeks warm. He blew me a tiny kiss, just on the tips of his fingers.

Oh boy.

"Will we not go aboard?" I said aloud. But my words were foreign to my ears ... I had spoken but her voice and her language came out of me. The man nodded.

"It is customary for these people. They wish to be greeted with some formality. Do you remember the last such ship? We were brought aboard before any trading could begin. One chief to another. They like this," the man said to me, gazing at the ship.

Only problem was, he spoke in a language not mine ... and yet I understood it inside my brain.

So, we would go aboard.

I would meet Lucky Jack.

But ... this had not been in the film!

Was I supposed to stop this? Was this why I was here, just to keep these people off the ship?

Oh, but there had to be another reason, I thought. Besides, we didn't see what happened between the boats approach and the later time when the trading was ending and when the Belgian missionary spoke to Stephen in a language only Stephen could interpret. There had to have been a relatively substantial amount of time - the men on the Surprise would have ordered fresh water, fruit, other needs and the natives would have had to fetch them. Enough time for all of it to be brought aboard, stored ... enough time for the men to finish their pressing duties and begin hanging out of every nook and cranny to try a bit of one-on-one negotiating for whatever they saw in the dugouts that caught their fancy.

"Where is the missionary?" I mused aloud, without meaning to, as I searched the other dugouts around us.

"He was too long gathering items to bring to them," said this man with me. "He moves as slow as Pomare's moon."

"Is he coming later?"

"No."

"Oh? But ... but he must!" I said, putting my hand on this man.

"And why must he?" the man said, studying my eyes.

How could I tell him that the missionary must come because he is the one who gives Jack information on the ship they are chasing? And that without him, the film will go wrong? Instead, inside me, I smiled ... for this was obviously the reason I was there ... the thing I must put right ... I must make sure this man sends back for the missionary and brings him to the Surprise ... though ... though that did not have to happen immediately, did it? This was when I decided to play for time ... to wait until the moment was to my best advantage to convince this man, who obviously had this power to do it, to send one of the dugouts back to the beach to gather the missionary and bring him to meet with the Stephen and the Captain.

But for now, the more time before that happened, the more time I might have in this warmth ... and to meet Lucky Jack. Surely ... surely from how the man spoke to me, I would go aboard, too, to meet the chief of this ship?

So I smiled demurely and said, "Well, I just imagined he would enjoy the excitement of meeting the Englishmen."

"Perhaps he will learn to move faster," the man said with a short snort of annoyance.

Suddenly, the dugout came to a stop as the men front and aft dug in with their paddles to stop our forward momentum. British voices shouted down at us, warning us off their paintwork.

I lowered my shade umbrella and fixed tanned faces with a smile. I recognized Lt. Pullings and several others.

The grumbles faded away as I smiled around at the ship's company while we bounced next to the Surprise. These were men, after all, starved for female company. And this woman in whose body I was, she would have been exotic and fresh and lush to them.

"Go on. Speak to them," the man next to me said.

"Me? Speak to them? In English?" I said, surprised for I presumed my words would only come out in their language during this bounce.

"At once," he said, frowning at me. "I did not hand you over to the missionaries' lessons for any other reason than for you to be of service in such encounters. How else shall we bargain our goods? You shall get us the appropriate terms. Go. Speak that barbaric tongue. At once!"

I swallowed hard and wondered how this would work. Could I will my vocal chords to cooperate? But in the end, it was as effortless as looking back up at Lt. Pullings, smiling nervously, clearing my throat and calling up loudly ... in English with a slightly Spanish accent ... "Ahoy there, the ship!"

Every man aboard the Surprise seemed to stop all talking at the sound of my voice. And a moment later, laughter broke out from stern to stem ... as they imitated my call in pseudo-feminine voices. They seemed a bit over excited at this encounter with the natives.

And then all gazed down expectantly at me as Lt. Pullings gruffly called down, "What business do you have? What to trade?"

"We do come to trade, sir. We also seek a formal audience with your Captain." I thought about what the man next to me had said of this tradition he expected to be followed and said, in a voice I hope sounded rather regal and commanding, "One chief to the other chief! To negotiate terms."

More laughter.

They were giddy with the first scent of people not of the Surprise in many long months ... and found it hilarious any person in these crude crafts spoke their language ... and a woman to boot!

"Shall you relay my Chief's greetings and request for proper audience to your Chief?" I called up, again searching for a regal tone.

Pullings leaned far over the upper railing and smiled down at me. "Aye, my lady, we shall relay the request to our Chief."

More laughter from the men even as Pullings disappeared from my view.

"It is done?" the man beside me said as we waited.

"We shall soon see," I replied. "When we meet the Captain of this ship, how shall I introduce you?"

"As befits me."

Oh boy, now that was some help, I groaned inwardly.

Around us, people in the dugouts shouted up at the people in the ship. It was an even toss up as to what the men in the ship wanted more of ... food, drink, odd souvenirs of the island ... or the island's girls, who giggled and waved shyly. That much was obvious from their eyes as they examined every dugout ... but there was relative discipline as yet aboard the Surprise. Perhaps because the officers were attentive on the deck, maintaining some sort of decorum as Pullings went to consult with the Captain.

Eventually, I heard Pullings command that they lower down the bosun's chair for the delegation from the island.

The man beside me pointed at the man who'd been wielding the paddle before us. He was solid, honey brown, black haired and well-built. His eyes looked into mine for but a moment before he reached out for the lowered bosun's chair. He clambered aboard it, as two other men near him held it steady. I watched his ascent with hope in my chest beating a loud tattoo as he rose higher and higher.

When the chair returned, the man next to me climbed in as, again, other men aboard the dugout held it steady. Without a word, he closed his eyes tightly and let himself be pulled up. His hands gripped the rope sides of the bosun's chair, for life, for love, for all love.

I waited with barely any breath left in me and prayed in repeated utterances for the chair to return for me.

And then it was there ... before anyone else could climb into it, leaving me behind, I put a hand out as if I was doing what was expected. No one stopped me. I held the edge, let two of the men lift me into the chair ... and then I was swung free to be brought up ... past smiles and catcalls ... past open-toothed ogles and offers of all worldly goods.

The officers had to call out repeatedly to gain any sort of lessening of this behavior by their men.

It made me smile inside, thinking of what Jack would say if he knew his men were behaving with no regard to their officers' order to quiet. Though no doubt he'd approve the lusty thoughts, if not the outward displays of them.

But no sooner had that thought come to me when a booming voice from above rang out with a command that must have been heard all the way down to the keel. "Avast!" the mighty voice shouted. "Silence fore and aft!"

In a moment, not only was there relative pin-drop silence aboard the Surprise ... but also down below in the dugouts. I looked down to see stunned faces peering up at me.

Oh, Jack, I thought, you are one in a million in my book. Well, in Patrick O'Brien's books.

It was Jack who stepped forward, gallant and utterly the picture of strict disciplined majesty, to give me his hand and help me to my bare feet aboard the gleaming planks of the ship. Dressed now in his blues, wearing his hat, his hair pulled back under it ... every inch Lucky Jack Aubrey who'd already stolen my heart and now set it to beating alarmingly fast and hard. He bowed low over my hand; his lips pressed in warm and dry. His eyes tried so hard to not see me as he stood back up ... but I could not fail to see them gravely consider my form ... and my bosom.

"Captain, we are so honored," I said, my voice barely able to pitch loud enough to hear. He leaned in toward me to capture the last word.

"It is we who are honored to receive your delegation," he said, a stern smile on his face.

Let no man aboard fault their Captain for his poise or his manners with this woman, I thought to myself.

He bowed our threesome before him and Pullings led us into the cabin, past a sentry who stared at me as if he'd never seen a woman before ... and certainly I did wonder when this ship's boards had ever been trod by a native woman, bare feet, sarong tight about her form, long hair flowing freely.

Killick was inside the cabin, standing stiffly, a scowl on his face. I loved it.

"Offer him our greetings," the man said to me.

"Welcome to our home land," I said, unsure what island it was. "Your reputation precedes you into these waters."

Captain Aubrey smiled. It lit up the cabin. He bowed deeply. "You flatter me, I do assure you, madam. And may I welcome you aboard His Majesty's ship Surprise. You do us a great favor to welcome us as friends."

"Have you introduced me yet? I wish to sit," the man griped to me.

I bowed back to the Captain. "May I introduce our Chief. He greets you with open arms and hands that seek to negotiate trade with you, sir."

That sounded idiotic, I thought, with an inward grimace. Yet it seemed to please everyone.

"And you, Lady, shall I make your acquaintance?" Captain Jack asked me, as if butter wouldn't melt in that mouth with those lips I'd felt other men wield against my lips to such success.

I placed a hand on my brow and wondered if the heat were overcoming me. What I wanted was to look around, to just look at this Captain before me ... not think of him as a man! Or flirt! No, no! No flirting, I thought in a panic. Even though this man above all other men in creation deserved a damned good flirt.

"What did he just ask?" the man said to me as he settled into a chair I pulled out for him from the table.

"He asked who I was and my name," I said in a rush.

"Then answer," he said. When I hesitated, he looked at Jack, and in whatever language this was the islanders were speaking, said, "I present my niece Arrioehau, priestess of palm trees that provide shelter and food to us."

I blanched and thought, 'huh? They have a priestess to palm trees? I'm his niece?'

The man motioned at me, jerking a finger toward Captain Jack who gazed between us as he waited on me to interpret.

"I am the Chief's niece. Arrioehau. I am a priestess," I said in the English that neither the Chief nor the other man with us from the dugout could speak but that all others in this room could.

"A charming name, my dear. For a charming lady," Jack said, again bowing deeply toward me. "We have prepared a small reception for you ..."

Gesturing toward his table, laden with an assortment of food I didn't quite recognize and decanters that must have held port or other wine. But before anyone could near the table, a loud set of footsteps rushed toward the cabin door and then in burst Dr. Stephen Maturin.

Oh boy!

Introductions were made. Stephen stared at us as if we were specimens but it was not in an unkind way ... it was curiosity to learn of us.

At the Chief's insistence, I told the Captain of our wish to trade goods ... to negotiate terms. And I told the Chief of the Captain's need for fresh water, fruit and assorted other bounty from our shores. On behalf of the Chief, I bargained for assorted trinkets, tools and bolts of fabric.

Stephen spoke a semblance of this language and before the end of this repast that had been prepared for us, he and the other man from the dugout were having a conversation of sorts. It appeared the man wanted more than anything to see more of the ship. Stephen allowed as how he would be the perfect guide. Jack's eyes widened even as he was busy refilling the Chief's glass. He motioned Pullings over and told him to go with Stephen to assure their guest was safely shown the workings of the ship.

"Uncle?" I said across the room to where the Chief was being engaged into conversation as best Stephen could. "The Captain has offered you both a tour of his ship. Should you care to go? It is a great honor, is it not?"

Stephen nodded and exaggerated the honor of this tour. I felt sure that what Stephen really wanted was to make the interaction between him and the natives into a longer one than he'd hoped ... and I heard him ask the Chief something about a certain kind of monkey he'd seen several people in the dugouts carrying about their shoulders.

"No doubt you would prefer to stay in the comfort and cool shelter of the Great Cabin, Princess Arrioehau?" Captain Aubrey said softly, in a voice that might have only carried to me.

"Without any doubt, Captain. We must have further negotiations ... of the terms of barter, I mean, of course. And I would love to hear of your discoveries on this voyage," I said, in what I hoped passed for ingénue naiveté.

"I shall just see your Chief and his man onto the deck and then shall return, my dear," he told me, his eyes crinkling. "I look forward to our negotiations with true delight."

When he left, I was alone with Killick, who stood sullen and creaking in the corner. I gave him a smile; he lowered his eyes, suddenly shy before me.

And then Jack was back in the cabin. "I am at your service, my dear Arrioehau," he said, bowing low, his eyes taking me in as he rose. And yet, the bald leer was charming and manly ... and I would think any woman would have loved that look. Or maybe it was just that I was pre-disposed to adore him in his roguish state.

He poured us each a tiny glass of port, then led me to the expanse of windows. I heard him dismiss Killick with a terse, understated, "That will be all."

And then we were alone. I was looking out the glass panes when he came near. He pointed out to me, over the near shore, along to the rise of a sharp peak. He asked me what we called it. I said, "I am not sure it translates into English, Captain."

"Please do me the honor of calling me Jack," he said. "And tell me the name of this mountain in your most charming native tongue."

Er. Hmm. I hesitated ... smiled ... blushed ... he grinned ... and my brain would just not work!

"It's called Pitoquina," said a female voice from out of nowhere. I glanced over my shoulder to see Alia, in the middle of the cabin, her head cocked to the side, shaking her finger at me. "You have to get off the ship. No women ever came aboard in the movie."

"None we know of," I said to her, almost hissing it out.

"But this is the name of this mountain?" Jack exclaimed, his hand touching my elbow in his feigned excitement. "Nunweenohov. I shall mark it down on the map the instant we are underway so that all other mariners of His Majesty's Navy shall know the native word for this navigational point."

Alia snorted. "Now you've done it! Good going!"

I ignored her and turned to Captain Jack. "Please tell me about this gleaming sword here, Captain Aubrey. Did you earn it for great bravery? For it appears to me that you must be a quite brave man."

He smiled, indulgent, his eyes glinting. And then he rattled on for at least ten minutes about the sword. All the time, his hand stroked it and I imagined that hand touching me.

I didn't realize we were both silent until he cleared his throat. My fingers were twirling a lock of my hair. I knew I was gazing at him with moon eyes.

"Let us sit by the windows, shall we? I believe we are to negotiate," I said.

And so we sat. Sipping our port. He said something about the meeting of cultures ... of how we could learn so much from such intimate exchanges. I looked at Alia and smiled as he slid a bit closer to me and leaned in ever so delicately into my personal space. Just his nearness gave me the most delicious tremor inside.

"I enjoy intimate exchanges ... between cultures," I said, my eyes lowered as I felt him lean in just that much more to sniff demurely at my hair. Before he could sit up away from me, I turned my face and looked right up at him. We were inches apart. "Tell me, Captain, what would you put on offer?"

"On offer, my dear?" he said softly, his hand now dangerously close to my hip as he came ever so infinitesimally closer. "What would you wish from me? It would be yours, with no quibbles. A beautiful young maiden such as you could command any token of my affection."

I swept the room with my eyes, as if considering what I would like from him as a token ... and Alia scowled at me as my eyes met hers. It was a good thing she could not read my mind for I was suddenly quite rebellious. I liked the way Lucky Jack made me feel. I liked being in his presence. I liked having his undivided attention ... and I liked, a lot, having him wear his physical desire for me on his sleeve. All these months at sea without a woman? I felt feverish at the idea of what he'd be like. But Alia, over there, disapproved as I could easily tell from that scowl and pursed lips and folded arms. She's going to be here, as if she's some form of my conscious? As if I need to bow and scrape to her idea of how I should conduct myself in these impossible situations? To hell with her, I thought.

"I would wish ..." I said, softly, to Jack as I turned back to him, my fingers now light on his upper thigh ... "I would wish a kiss, Captain."

He swallowed hard. I swear if my eyes had dropped, I think another part of his anatomy might have been hard at that point. "A kiss, my little dear?" he asked, his voice deeper. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "It is how we begin negotiations, Captain. An exchange of spirit ... to formulate trust between us."

"Oh, sweet potato relish on corn biscuits!" Alia groaned. "You are pathetic. He's never going to fall for that hogwash! Quit toying with this and let's go somewhere away from him so we can talk about what you have to do."

I flipped her the bird.

But Jack did not notice. For Jack's attention was elsewhere just then. His attention was on my lips and soon to be on my tongue.

"I would like this above all things ... to have this exchange," he said, husky voiced and leaning into me by then so that all I had to do was raise my chin and meet his lips.

They were soft. Fleshy. Warm. The taste of port was filtered through the tang of him in my mouth ... for, yes indeed, he did languidly slip his tongue between my lips and dance with my tongue. It was all so smooth ... all so mellow ... I know I sighed as he eased from the kiss.

Legendary lover, indeed.

"Can you now trust me, my dear?" he asked me, his hand now on my knee. My fingers on his thigh twitched in response. "May I call you Arie, sweetheart? It rolls so pleasingly off the tongue for me."

"May I seduce you, Jack?" I asked him, my tongue licking along the bottom of his chin. I closed my mouth over the front of his throat and felt him stutter into a swallow.

"I'm outta here," Alia said sharply.

"I believe if it is to be seduction, my lovely Arie, it is I who shall rise to this occasion. Prepare yourself, sweet girl ... You are in strong hands," Jack said.

His hand slid between the folds of the sarong. He leaned me back against the cushions, kissing me deeply. His heart hammered in his chest. When his warm, wide fingers touched at the juncture of my thighs, I realized I was wearing no panties. He didn't seem surprised ... I figured he'd seduced more than his fair share of tropical island women.

"Are you golden all over, Captain?" I asked him. I was cupping his girth in my hand.

This was when he lifted me in his arms and carried me into his sleeping cabin. There were noises all around ... a ship full of men at work ... the people of the island circling in their dugouts and calling back and forth to do trade ... voices outside the wood of this cabin ... and inside this cabin, the sound of Jack, kissing me, pressing me into the wall as his hands were under the sarong and even then removing it from me.

He slipped to his knees. His mouth was on my left then right breast. Hands on my hips. Then pressing in hard on my rear to capture me against his body.

"It's been too long for you, poor Captain," I said softly. "Let me ease you ... let me ..."

Oh, how I knew exactly what I was doing.

But the thing is ... if this was to be my last bounce ... and I knew it would be because I knew I would be ready when it began again and that I would be ready to reclaim my body in the lab rather than be forced into another body in another film ... so if this was my last bounce ... then what harm?

No harm to me.

No harm to Jack.

And think of the benefits ... I could be with him in a way I never could in a novel ... Oh, this side of Jack Aubrey ... I deserved it ... My final hurrah.

I knelt before him. I was nude. She had a very nice body. He liked it ever so much though I suspect about any female form might have done by this point for our dear Captain of the famed importunate prick. But to see how he treated her body ... how he was so careful and smiled even though I knew he had to be painfully hard.

He was still kneeling before me. My fingers worked at his britches but I made little headway. He had to help. And then he took my hand, brought it to where it could feel his flesh, hold him. And I wonder if this island girl would have gasped at the size and urgency. I think it would have excited her as it excited me.

"Now you may look to see, my dear ... am I a blonde by nature?" he asked me, his breathe hot against my neck.

"Blessed by nature," I said. "And golden to the core."

He let me ease him over until he was sitting on the deck ... his back leaning against the bulwark. "Come to me, dear, and let me hold you for just a while," he said.

And he did. It was a cuddle the likes of which I don't remember having. Part boy with new toy and part man involved in foreplay ... a puppy dog's earnestness and a wolf's heat. I didn't mean to take him all the way by mouth but when I tasted him and when I thought of his long nights of erotic dreams as the ship traveled the oceans ... And as I heard his manly entreaties to "have a care" lest we go too far ... Oh, Jack.

Too late, Jack!

I wiped a hand over my mouth and looked down at him, sprawled out before me ... the sated, victorious smile upon those lips. It took my breath away. He was real. He was before me. And the time had sped to where it was unwinding already ... I could feel its pace as it raced away from us.

Kneeling over him, I brushed a stray hair back from his face. His arm circled my waist and drew me down to him. He buried his mouth in the valley between my breasts.

"Name your terms, my temptress," he said, chucking as he circled a nipple with his tongue. "You are a most clever negotiator for your people. But give me but a bit of time, Arie, and I shall show you pleasure ten times over for this interlude ... my hunger may be eased but it is not erased. And you deserve to see my terms."

"Captain ... oh ... wait ... I must tell you a secret ... you must send one of our boats to shore to fetch the missionary. You may wish to speak with him."

"Eh?" he whispered, his head now lolling back onto the deck and his bright eyes fixing slowly into focus upon my face. "A missionary? I was never one for men of the cloth."

"But this man ... he traveled to us only days ago ... he travels among the islands nearby ... he may have seen another ship. Would you not want to know such a thing?"

Now his smile sharpened. He rose under me, bringing me up with him until we sat facing each other. "You are most uncommon kind to me, Arie. I shall not forget this favor. You may count me as a friend to your people."

"You'll send for him, then?"

"There's not a moment to lose, my dear ... let me attend to this ... I shall return shortly and when I do, sweet Arie, I shall show you my gratitude and please you beyond all measure. Remain here and await my return."

After kissing me soundly, he hopped to his feet. Before he made the door, his britches were fastened and he was smoothing down his hair and grabbing his jacket. He gave me a bright smile and caressed my body with his eyes before he left me. The door shut swiftly.

"Alia!" I called out. "Come talk with me."

"What's got into you, Zoey?" she asked me.

I turned to find her sitting on a trunk. She frowned. I looked down at myself. I reached for the sarong and fastened it around me as I stood up.

"Well, so far, he hasn't gotten into me yet, if that's what you were wondering," I said tartly.

"Don't be crass."

"You weren't wondering?"

"You have to get off this ship before he gets back. Zoey, really! You have only one tiny chance to bounce."

"I know exactly what I'm doing this time. And, what's more, this is my last bounce."

"Oh, is it?" she looked up sharply. "What do you know that we don't know?"

"I was in my body this time, just as the bounce began. I saw you. I heard you. And I felt the chair I was in, so I know I was in my body. And I know how I did it but I was too surprised to act more forcefully to stay."

"You ... you think you can just will yourself to stop bouncing?"

"Someone has to. Phineus is certainly in over his wires in this regard. Why not me? Why can't it be that this is what I was supposed to learn how to do?"

"It is not that simple. You are not in total control, Zoey. You can't be."

"Why not?"

"Um ... well ..."

"What? What have you not told me?"

"Think about it logically. You didn't start bouncing all on your own, Zoey. You can't just will yourself to stop."

"I may not have started this, but I had to have had some influence ... after all, I was bounced into a series of films that all center on the main character in the first film I thought of when I was about to be launched on the first bounce, right?"

"Zoey, do not get your hopes up about this. It will not be this simple."

"I was in my body. Alia, I was there, in the lab. If I'd realized it was going to happen, that clearly, then I could have been totally prepared to fight to stay in my body. That is what I am going to do on the next bounce."

"Then will yourself to stop now if it's that easy. Will yourself back to the lab."

"It's in that time when I've bounced out of one film and am being drawn into another ... those moments where I'm sharing the body of the person I'm going into and she's sharing my body. That is the only time, Alia. That is when I can take control and shove her out while I stay in my own body."

She looked away from me.

"You think I can't do this ... that I don't have the mind to do it. You'd be so wrong about that."

"If all it took was your desire to be back, I have no doubt you'd be able to do it. But I don't want you to get your hopes up, Zoey. There have been ... a few unexpected ... flaws ... in the program."

"Flaws?" I asked, feeling my heart sink before willing it to stay strong. I shook my head at her. "Doesn't matter. I'm doing this. I've set the film here right by telling Jack to send for the missionary ... that missionary gives Jack important information. That's the correction that had to be made in this film. So I just have to get back to my dugout before that conversation takes place. And then I bounce out ... and then I stay in the lab this time."

She bit her lip and then looked back at me. I knew she was indulging me only to get me to focus on the bounce out. "Okay then. Agreed. You need to get back in the dugout. That's your priority now."

I heard Jack returning to the outer cabin. I heard feet running above me. "I think I have a bit of time before the missionary is fetched."

"Why would you run this risk? Is this all you're thinking of? Sex with Captain Aubrey? Like some bodice ripper? Smoking flannel fedora, Zoey! Get your priorities straight!"

My eyes focused on her with such lethal intensity that she took a step back. "I have my priorities straight. And for your information, I am no longer your puppet. I'm coming back there, Doctor. And when I do ..."

"When you do, what?"

We stared at each other. Finally, when I heard Jack's hand on the door to this cabin, I said to her, "I'll be in the dugout before it's time for me to bounce out. I know what I'm doing."

Before my eyes, her image faded to nothing. Behind me, Jack swept into the cabin, shutting the door behind him. He put his arms around me, his mouth was at my ear. He told me he'd come back to make love to me ... he would show me such sweetness ... he'd make me so glad to have been his new friend.

I let him caress me, touch me, kiss me. I could not stop myself from this indulgence. To be held by a man who knows how to hold a woman, how to manifest his desire for her.

And then I turned to him and held his face in my hands. And tried so hard to memorize the feel and the look and his breath and his hair and his uniform and the golden glow that seemed a part of him.

"I must go, Captain. I cannot linger."

"Oh, but my dear! Sweetheart!" he said, coming even closer, his lips light on my neck. "But we have so much still to trade ... I believe it may be my turn to deliver the goods!"

"Alas, it can not be just now, Captain. I must leave. I cannot delay. But never fear," I said, with two fingers on his lips. "I will be back after all is finished with the trading of goods. We will celebrate our mutual good fortune then."

He groaned lightly in response. "Please stay. Just a bit longer. I would like it above all things."

My throat tightened. I wanted to stay with him. God, he was such a man. But if I tarried, I ran too great a risk. I had to leave. "My uncle must be wondering where I am."

Something in my voice got through, even though his brain must have been besotted with desire to lay with me, to feel this body under him, to sink inside it, to rut, to make love, to come inside, to make me come with him. Because I saw his features rearrange themselves ... to go from lustful craving to pained resignation.

His hand cupped my cheek. "Very well, my dear Arie. When a thing is not meant to be granted at the time, we must know where the bird in the bush is hiding, do you not agree? I would not importune you nor would I wish you to think me a cad. The favor of your charms has already been far beyond what I deserve ... I shall treasure them dearly, nonetheless, for a very long time. And I shall look forward to bestowing other favors upon you. Until then?"

I grinned at him and kissed his cheek. "Oh, Captain. I already relish the memories of your ample charms, rest assured."

I straightened up my hair and adjusted my sarong as best I could. I tried not to smile too smugly as I went out into the outer cabin. I told myself to stop feeling giddy ... giddy for having been alone with Jack, to have loved him, to have given him some respite from lonely times at sea ... giddy for feeling the end of the bouncing about to happen, to not be wondering what would be next for me, to want more than anything to be back in that sterile lab and know it would be soon ... so very soon.

Out on the deck, the woman's uncle and the other man stood waiting while Pullings explained how his sextant worked as Stephen tried to interpret with little enthusiasm for whether or not he was accurate. You take one look at their blank faces and you wonder if they'd understood English, if it'd even then make sense or if they'd even care if it did.

The uncle went over the ship first. The chair came back; into it, I was escorted by Jack, looking so proper and dignified ... and virtually emotionless as he handed me into the contraption. His eyes turned toward the shore as I went over. I looked in that direction and saw a dugout closing in on the Surprise ... and knew the missionary was close.

In the dugout, I settled in and waited. The other man soon joined us. We paddled around the ship. The uncle asked me about payment ... we watched as sailors hung from open cannon windows to bargain for monkeys and fruit and coral necklaces. We heard the entreaties for some of the girls to come aboard ... to let them sneak them through the port holes. I looked away from the uncle when he asked one of the men in another boat if we had received all the golden-haired captain had promised. We had.

And then we made it around the other side. I sat in the dugout and listened to Stephen and the missionary converse in Portuguese. It was a scene of chaos to me, but no doubt it was controlled chaos.

And then suddenly, I felt that peculiar sensation of flattening out. I knew what was happening. I knew, instantly, that I was going to be in control this time. I put a hand on the side of the canoe and gripped in, remembering that this same tactile act had connected me to my own body.

As the feeling took me over, I looked up toward the ship's side, peeking around the shade of the umbrella made of fronds ... Jack gazed down at me ... for a long moment, his face was like stone ... and then he seemed about to turn away ... but at the last second, he paused, looked back down ...

The wistful look in his eyes, that faraway smile ... the wish inside him so plain to me ... his regret we had not shared more in terms of making love for he now understood that he could not tarry in this cove but must lose not a moment at setting sail after the enemy. Yet ... lingering in that long look he gave me was gratitude over what had happened between us for it would be a new erotic memory he could dream on his lonely nights until he again made it to some shore where a good wench could be had.

And then I was gone from there ... a smile on her face no doubt echoing back to Jack.

If this were to be it, my last bounce, it would have been such a good one to end on.