Chapter 88

The sea was calm, and the autumn air, though slightly crisp, was clear. The sky felt unusually high and blue, like an inverted ocean. I gazed up at that azure expanse before lowering my eyes to the horizon, where scattered islands and peninsulas spread across the blue water like ink stains.

“Walter, how much farther to Virginia, exactly?”

“About… two hundred kilometers, I should think.”

“Haaaah… Of course.”

“Is something the matter?”

Finally! Raleigh is using meters instead of those godforsaken leagues, miles, yards, feet, and inches!

I may not be an angel, but I am most certainly a champion of justice who has vanquished the imperial system of measurement.

I did it!

“…No. It’s nothing.”

“Your lips curled up just a bit there, my lord. Ha ha, you must be pleased to be nearing Virginia!”

Thanks to Vicente’s cheerful comment, no one questioned the reason for my silly grin. But if there is a God, He will know. He will know of the greatest achievement I have left upon this world.

Anyway.

After leaving the Lenape’s territory, we had been making our way back to Virginia, circling near the Delmarva Peninsula and meeting with several more tribes along the way. The weather remained so bright and pleasant it was hard to believe a hurricane had just torn through these waters. The wind was favorable, too, and we were making good time on our journey home.

As we were all engaged in idle chatter, the ship’s captain approached, peering through his spyglass.

“We will be entering the territory of the Pocomoke people shortly. Everyone, prepare your gifts and get ready to… huh?”

Suddenly, the captain’s body went rigid. He turned his head toward us with the creaking, stuttering motion of a poorly oiled machine and spoke in a shrill, metallic voice.

“Uh, th-that is, well, you see…”

…If one could even call that chirping sound ‘speech.’

I walked over to the captain, took his wrist firmly in my hand, and took a few deep, slow breaths in front of him. After a moment, he mimicked me, and once he had calmed down, he looked at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“W-well, no, I mean, that is to say…”

“…”

He started reacting in the exact same way again.

What in the world did he see through that spyglass? Bewildered, I snatched the instrument from his hand and brought it to my eye, pointing it in the direction he had been looking. And then…

“…Oh.”

“Wh-what is it? What do you see, Sir Nemo?”

“Are you all right? Has something gone wrong…?”

“…First, arm the sailors on deck.”

“Pardon?”

“Then, arm everyone else on board. That includes all of you.”

After giving the order, I handed the spyglass to an anxious Raleigh. He, too, looked through it, and his expression immediately turned grave.

“Oh… hell. Vicente? Do you remember where we put our swords?”

“What? Uh, let’s see…”

“We need them now!”

That’s right. What the captain, Raleigh, and I had seen was… a ship.

A European-style ship, its sails bearing no crest, making it impossible to identify. It was already anchored in the territory of the Pocomoke, right where we had intended to land. Alarmed, we all grabbed our chainsaws, swords, and pistols and rushed ashore.

“For Virginia!”

“F-for Virginia…? Huh?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

We hastily lowered our weapons after realizing they were all familiar faces.

“S-Sir Nemo, why are you coming from over there?”

“Waaaaah! Sir Nemo is safe!”

“Sir Nemo? Where’s Sir Nemo? Where!”

“…”

“…”

“…Everyone, lower your swords.”

They were all our settlers.

“…What in the world is going on here, everyone?”

“Sir Nemo, what brings you here…?”

“We were just returning from our tour. Now it’s your turn to answer. What are you all doing here?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

…Something about this atmosphere felt familiar. Like our family dog trying to act innocent after breaking Mom’s favorite flowerpot… Or an elementary school student averting their gaze, pretending they didn’t forget their textbook… Their faces were perfect masks of guilt.

“Hrmmm.”

“Uh… Sir Nemo?”

As I stood there with my arms crossed, waiting, someone scrambled off the unmarked ship and rushed to bow before me. I looked closer and saw…

“…Oitohtan? Is that you? Are you the leader of this group?”

“Ha, hahaha, hahahaha… Leader is a strong word. More of a proposer, really…”

“…”

“…Yes, that’s right.”

Is there ever a day this one doesn’t cause trouble?

“Well… since no one was hurt, I’ll let it pass for now. What happened? What brought you all the way out here?”

It could have been a disaster, but since it wasn’t, I would be lenient. My tone seemed to put Oitohtan at ease, and he bowed his head again as he began to explain.

“To explain the circumstances, I must first tell you about ‘it,’ which appeared one day out of the blue…”

“‘It’?”

“That thing! The big, blue wagon…”

Ah. He was talking about the Porter. And so, Oitohtan’s story began with the Porter.

***

It was another peaceful day on Croatoan Island.

Eleanor was in a good mood. Her work in Excel had gone more smoothly than usual, Virginia had eaten her food without being picky, and most of the patients who came to the hospital that day had only minor ailments. Having finished her daily duties, she was humming a tune on her way to a space in Sir Nemo’s farm that only she and a select few were permitted to enter: the logistics warehouse. She planned to use the computer there to transfer the information she had organized on the new settlers and update the records of recent births and deaths.

The area was brightly lit, thanks to the lights Kim Lee-sang had thoughtfully left on. His philosophy—that since the electricity was infinite and there was no bill, they might as well use it generously—had effectively extended Eleanor’s workday late into the night.

That is…

CRASH!

Until midnight.

“Agh! Wh-what was that!”

Startled, Eleanor ran toward the source of the deafening noise. But when she arrived, there was no one, and nothing, there. Of course, no one would dare cause a disturbance in this sacred place at this hour… but then what was that sound?

She wasn’t the only one who had heard it. People were already rushing over, armed with pitchforks and muskets. Before they arrived, Eleanor scanned the surroundings. It was possible, she thought, that a Spanish spy could be hiding in a place like this…

“…”

And then she saw it.

“Wh-what…? Why is this here?”

A blue frame, seats for five or six, a spacious cargo bed.

The Porter, the vehicle He was supposed to be driving far to the north, was lodged in a crater in the ground, looking like someone about to be buried alive. The ominous sight sent a murmur of unease through the crowd that had gathered.

Most of the residents of Croatoan had known Him for over a decade. They were well aware of the circumstances under which His belongings returned. It happened when the item could no longer be retrieved. Or when it was damaged beyond use or repair.

Everyone looked at each other, their faces etched with despair. A dark thought took root in all their minds. For that powerful steel frame to be buckled, torn, and horribly damaged to the point of being inoperable… Then… what about the people who were inside?

What about Sir Nemo?

“…”

“…”

“…”

A heavy silence fell. Without a single word spoken, they all came to an unspoken agreement: this news must not leave the island.

“Lady Eleanor? Are you all right? Your face is completely pale!”

“I’m f-fine. Let’s just get back to work.”

“Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“…”

However.

“What’s with that expression on your face?”

“…It’s nothing.”

“It looks like something.”

“I told you, it’s nothing…”

The people outside the island were not fools. They didn’t know exactly what the residents of Croatoan were hiding, but they could tell they were hiding something. In such a situation, it wasn’t difficult for the truth to leak out.

And all of Virginia was thrown into an uproar.

“Aaargh! S-Sir Nemo is…!”

“Sir Nemo is in danger! This must be the work of those Spaniards!”

“E-everyone, calm down! He is the almighty messenger of the Lord! He would never be threatened by the schemes of mere Spaniards!”

“Can you truly guarantee that, Mr. Hewitt?”

“…Probably.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“A-aaargh! Aaaaaaaargh! E-everyone, grab your weapons!”

“We have to save Sir Nemo! We have to save…!”

Hewitt’s attempts to persuade them were utterly useless, which was hardly surprising since Hewitt himself had no idea what had actually happened. The people quickly sensed the lack of conviction in his tone and fell into an even greater panic. As the crowd grew frenzied before a flustered Hewitt, Eleanor stepped forward.

“Everyone! Look! The tablet He gave us is still shining, is it not?”

She turned on the tablet’s flashlight and shone it on the crowd. As it was a moonless night, even the small light had a dramatic visual effect.

“If something had happened to Him, would His power still shine like this? Get a hold of yourselves!”

“…Th-that’s logical.”

“She’s right. If the Saintess says so…”

And so, most of the crowd was pacified.

“B-but, still, none of us know whether Sir Nemo is in danger or not, do we?”

“Shouldn’t we at least send someone to check?”

“If we act rashly, we could cause an even bigger problem. For now…”

“Let’s just go ourselves! There’s a ship right over there!”

“Waaaaaaah!”

But some were not convinced.

A group of Spanish and English sailors, along with Oitohtan and a hundred or so other zealous followers, gathered together and headed north without a plan.

“N-no! All of you, stop!”

“Governor White! We will rescue Sir Nemo and bring him back safely! Wait for us here!”

“We’re coming, Sir Nemo!”

John White made a final attempt to stop them, but they were not the sort of people who could be stopped. They set off on their own adventure, on a sacred mission to rescue ‘Sir Nemo.’

…In the process, they broke into the armory and stole weapons, raided the communal storehouse for food, and commandeered a newly built ship for themselves. This was far more than a simple transgression. From the moment they took up arms on their own accord, they were, for all intents and purposes, rebels or traitors, even if they hadn’t been officially punished as such.

Therefore, they had to ‘rescue’ Sir Nemo.

But that was fine.

Sir Nemo was surely being held captive by some evil tribe or villainous Spaniards. They would be able to rescue Him! They would be able to save the community from this crisis! With their overflowing faith!

Believing this…

***

“…And that is how we came to be here.”

That was the story of Oitohtan and his followers.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

…A headache was coming on.

This is my fault. I was too complacent. This kind of thing could have happened at any time. This whole situation is the result of my failure to prepare for it.

“…Everyone.”

At my words, the group, who had been hanging their heads like scolded schoolchildren, looked up at me.

“I know very well that you did not act with ill intentions. In fact, if I consider your hearts alone, I am both proud and pleased.”

“Thank you…”

“However.”

I held up a finger.

“Why did you not obey the orders of the ‘Apostles’?”

“W-well, that’s because we were worried Sir Nemo was in danger…”

“…”

“…We are sorry.”

“Then that is settled.”

It was clear now what my biggest mistake had been. I had assigned tasks to my companions—the ones people called my ‘Apostles’—but I had neglected the work of establishing their authority. This wasn’t Hewitt’s, or White’s, or Eleanor’s fault. They were, after all, more like administrative officials (who were good with Excel) and favored confidants of a religious leader, rather than religious leaders in their own right. They were closer to members of the government leading the Virginia Community; their religious authority was thin. That’s why everyone fell into chaos the moment I seemed to be in peril.

There was no authority to control that chaos.

The way they left was a problem, but in my view, the situation they left behind was even worse. The Apostles couldn’t control the ‘excessive loyalty’ of these people. They could do nothing as this group ransacked the settlement and departed. What’s more, considering the people who remained, this event must have planted seeds of religious anxiety: ‘Sh-should we have gone to save Sir Nemo too? Were the Apostles wrong?’

The community was probably still in an uproar. The people would be trembling with fear, questioning the orders of the Apostles they could no longer trust, trying to carry on with their lives.

“Do you have any idea what you have done? Your disobedience is a very serious matter.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Anywhere else, these people would be treated as rebels. Hanged without a second thought. But… it was difficult for me to punish them. They hadn’t acted out of malice, after all.

I suppressed a sigh and spoke.

“Let everyone remember this. In my absence, the Apostles are my representatives. If a problem arises when I am not here, you are to follow the words of the Apostles first.”

This whole mess happened because I hadn’t made that point clear. I offered a moment of silent prayer for Eleanor and the others who must have had a terrible time.

“So, should we consider the words of the Apostles to be the will of Sir Nemo?”

“That is corr— no, that is not it.”

Whoa, that was close. Right. That’s not it at all.

“However… they are the ones I have established to convey my will, so they are more likely to be closer to my intentions. Their words deserve to be respected.”

I carefully separated my own authority from that of the so-called ‘Apostles’ while still establishing a clear hierarchy. They seemed to understand, nodding their heads.

…Good.

“For now… let’s return together. Your punishment will be decided in due time.”

At the word ‘punishment,’ their faces fell. It seemed they had finally realized what they had done wrong.

Well, that seemed to bring the matter to a close for now.

And so, we began our journey south again, accompanied by a hundred and some sullen volunteer-militiamen. After another 200 kilometers, past the territories of the Occohannock and the Accomac tribes…

“L-look, the fleet is returning!”

“On the prow! It’s Sir Nemo!”

We had reached the Chesapeake Bay.

Aaaah… ughhhh… that was rough. 

This tour had been several times more exhausting than I had anticipated. One moment I’m having a prophetic vision, the next my perfectly fine Porter flips over, and then I’m running a marathon… The camper I had attached to the Porter getting demolished had also sent my quality of life into a nosedive. I had to bathe in streams and couldn’t even cook my own meals.

That wouldn’t happen anymore. Ugh, I was even starting to miss my slow-aging rice paste. All that was left was to return to my Green Gables and enjoy a life of peace and comfort…

“T-traitors!”

…or so I thought. My ears perked up at the sudden shout. A murmur rippled through the crowd as people began to repeat and mutter the word ‘traitors.’

“N-no! They are heretics!”

And just like that, the word ‘traitors’ was replaced with ‘heretics.’ It was the word I had feared hearing most in my twelve years in this world.

Alarmed, my eyes widened as I spun around. I saw someone pointing, not at me… but at someone standing several people down the line. The finger was aimed at Oitohtan.

“Those traitors refused to obey the orders of the Apostles and brazenly fled, stealing the community’s ship, food, and weapons! They are traitors to this sacred community! They are unbelievers and heretics!”

The ringing declaration drowned out all other sounds in the Chesapeake harbor, and only that single, furious voice could be heard.

“Disobedience to the Apostles is irreverence to Sir Nemo, and irreverence to Sir Nemo is rebellion against God!”

“Hear, hear!”

“Look at them! It seems they went off to ‘save’ Sir Nemo only to return with their tails between their legs after a scolding!”

I… knew this would happen. After they had thrown everything into chaos and terrified the populace, a reaction like this was to be expected. Oitohtan flinched as if struck by that last comment, but I was more concerned by the words that came before it.

‘Heretics.’

To be honest… it was hard to argue against it, seeing as they had ignored the Apostles and taken food, a ship, and weapons. If this went wrong, things could get seriously out of hand…

“O Messenger of the Lord! They must be exiled from the community!”

“He’s right! There is no place for heretics in this community founded by the Lord! They must be judged!”

“E-everyone, calm down! We cannot be the ones to judge them!”

“What are you talking about, Mr. Hewitt! They must be punished in the name of our community and the Lord! If we do not punish them, how can this be called the Lord’s community?!”

…It was already out of hand.

In an instant, sweat poured down my back like rain. I could feel the blood draining from my face.

“Sir Nemo… are you all right?”

No, I am not all right.