There's a lot of references in this story to things that you might not understand if you don't happen to live on the same small island I do. So to be helpful, here's an explaination of some of them. If there's still something you don't understand, just ask *S*.Darlington: A town in the north-east of England, and claims to be the birthplace of the railway.
GNER: Great North Eastern Railways. A railway company that mainly operates in the north-east of England.
Virgin: Another company that has trains operating in the north-east, as well as other parts of the country. They have the worst record for being late or not turning up at all.
Vivenne Westwood: A british designer, who seems to come up with more and more bizarre clothes each year.
Red Dwarf: Long running sci-fi comedy series made by the BBC. Kryten is one of the characters.
Big Breakfast: A programme on Channel 4, that's usually on every weekday morning from 7 - 9.
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I should have known better than to get onboard Shon's train in the first place; then I would never have got myself in such a mess. In fact, I did know better. My first instinct was to say 'thanks, but no thanks'. Believe it or not, I'm actually quite shy. At parties I spend most of my time talking to the granny in the kitchen, until my friends find me and drag me out to be sociable. But Shon had to dangle the lure of time travel in front of me. How could I resist that? To go back in time and actually see how things really were, instead of trying to piece it together from tarnished scraps of parchment. To watch them building a pyramid and see how they did it; to walk through Rome when it was freshly built and full of life; to taste the food in a medieval castle. It was one of those once in a lifetime opportunities. After all, how often does anyone you know catch a leprechaun, let alone one with a magic time-travelling train available? The timing was perfect too. I actually had two weeks off from work, while my husband was still away travelling so he wouldn't object to my absence. I would have preferred him to accompany me, but that was impossible.
By the time Shon's train made it to my part of the world, it was already packed and I was one of the last stops. I wasn't feeling at my best, which wasn't really surprising, as I had stayed up all the previous night finishing off the paperwork I had originally intended to do during my spare fortnight. Paperwork always makes me cranky; there's something about a column of figures that refuses to amount to the same total twice in a row that just riles me. I was falling asleep on my feet as I waited for the Fantasy Train to arrive, and only the customary howling draught whistling around Darlington station kept me semi-conscious. At least I didn't have to worry about a train full of ASS regulars being one of the notoriously late Virgin trains. Just when I was about to start snoring, there was a whoosh and the train arrived. Either GNER had employed Vivenne Westwood to design their latest rolling stock or this was my ride. A door slid open and a man popped his head out.
"Vickie Morgan?" he asked cheerfully as I stepped forward. "All aboard then."
The door had scarcely swished closed behind me before the train was in motion. The man's nametag identified him as Shon himself.
"Nice to meet you in the flesh at last," I said politely. He gave me a big grin.
"Nice of you to join us," he replied, nudging his glasses back up his nose. "Come this way. You're in cabin 205. You're the last pick-up, so now we're heading back in time, as soon as someone decides when they want to go to. Any idea when you want to go yet?"
"Not yet," I admitted."Back to Dallas to stand on the grassy knoll and yell 'duck'?" I suggested flippantly.
Shon gave me a bewildered look, and I mentally kicked myself. I thought he was bound to recognise the quote from Red Dwarf, as I knew he was a fan. But I should have remembered that Kryten had his good taste chip bypassed when he said that. The last thing I wanted to do was offend my American friends by making frivolous remarks about their major historical figures.
Several parties were in full swing and I saw some bizarre sights as I followed Shon. It certainly was a unique train. One section looked like a perfect replica of the Orient Express, then the next carriage was so high-tech it wouldn't have looked out of place on the Enterprise. We were passing through a section that reminded me of the observation carriage described in Dick Francis' 'The Edge', apart from the lively mud fight occupying the centre of it, when someone called out to Shon.
"What do you use to tie Bondage Barbie's legs to the bed with? I seem to have lost the handcuffs."
"Lost the handcuffs?" Shon echoed, turning pale. "Oh no, I knew I shouldn't have brought my Barbies with me. Do you mind finding your own way down, Vee, and I'll catch up with you later."
"No problem," I said, trying not to giggle at the sight of grown men playing with dolls. "Hope you find your handcuffs." He looked momentarily puzzled, as if he hadn't understood me, then disappeared into the huddle of men waiting for him.
I found my cabin in a part of the train that resembled the old fashioned coaches seen in classic Hitchcock films. I had a generous bunk, already made up, and a bench and narrow table. There was also a small en-suite bathroom. I couldn't help wondering exactly how the toilet worked. There weren't any signs instructing me not to use the toilet while the train was stationary. There could be a big reservoir somewhere to store all the sewage but that didn't seem too practical. But the alternative, that it was being dumped irresponsibly throughout history, didn't seem very clever. All our modern day germs and bacteria being introduced to ancient digestive tracts would be a disaster. I know most people probably don't think about this kind of thing, but I'm afraid that's the way my mind works. I hadn't really known what to pack for a trip through history, so I had stuck to the essentials, which didn't take long to unpack. An information pack was waiting for me, including my nametag. I stuck it on, then headed towards the nearest kitchen. Hopefully, a good strong cup of tea would have me feeling more alive.
According to the diagram in my room, there should be a self-service kitchen at the front end of the high tech carriage. But before I reached it I bumped into a group of men heading the opposite way.
"Hello sweetie," one of them said with a friendly grin. They had obviously been drinking and had reached the happy stage. They focused on my nametag.
"Hey, Vickie Morgan. I've read your stories." They looked at me in surprise. "But Vickie Morgan's a man."
"Er, no," I said apologetically. Another man joined the traffic jam we were creating in the corridor.
"Vickie Morgan," he observed. "Aren't you that British writer? I've always wondered, does the 'stiff upper lip' you Brits have make any difference when you're giving blow-jobs? I'd be happy to help you run some comparison tests"
"And I've always wondered why you named yourself after part of a beer can?" I replied, smiling at Wijit. He looked puzzled.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he asked. "I didn't quite understand you."
"Doesn't matter, wasn't anything important," I told him.
"I thought you were English."
"I am," I said indignantly.
"But you don't sound English. I can hardly understand you."
"What were you expecting me to sound like?" I asked. "Hardly anyone in the UK talks like the Queen, or Kate Winslet for that matter. I come from Yorkshire, so I don't talk like a bloody southerner, I have a Yorkshire accent." Judging by the bewildered looks on their faces I might as well have saved my breath. "I'm going to get a drink," I said as clearly as I could, squeezing past them.
I found my way to the kitchen, which turned out to be an eclectic mixture of shiny metal machines and long wooden tables. Closer examination of one of the machines revealed that all I had to do was type in what I wanted and push the button. Accordingly, I punched in 'tea'. A couple of menus flashed up at me but I impatiently hit 'enter' a couple of times until there was a ping and the door opened. But instead of a nice hot brew, there was a glass containing ice cubes, some pale brown liquid and a couple of sprigs of mint. Disgruntled, I slammed the door shut and decided to read the menus this time. To be on the safe side, this time I decided to request coffee.
A long menu appeared and I started to read the list: 'Latte, double latte, flat white, double mocha ...' the list seemed endless and none of it made any sense. I hit cancel, and contemplated the annoying contraption. Maybe something simple would be a better idea. But typing in 'water' just gave me another list of gibberish. Trying not to grind my teeth in frustration, I looked around to see if anyone else was having difficulties.
Seated at one of the tables was a noisy group engaged in an animated discussion about the finer points of grammar and punctuation. I didn't need to see his nametag to identify the short, brown gentleman vehemently arguing the case for two spaces after a full stop, while at the same time surreptitiously laving a pile of condoms with baby oil, as Homer. I didn't recognise any of the rest, except a tall, blonde woman waving a well-thumbed copy of Fowler who had to be Janey. She must have spotted my difficulty with the drinks dispenser and got up to give me a hand.
"Vickie!" she exclaimed when she saw my nametag. "I didn't know you were on board. Isn't this fun?"
"I was hoping I'd run into you," I said, trying to control the big grin spreading over my face. "Don't I owe you an e-mail?"
"Don't worry about it," she replied. "I know how hard it is to find a bit of spare time."
"Can you give me a hand with this stupid machine, Janey? All I want is a hot drink, but it doesn't seem to understand plain English."
Janey took a careful look at the offending mechanism, then backed off and gave it a good kick.
"There! I'll bet the fucker works now! What you want?"
"Hot chocolate," I suggested. Janey punched in some instructions.
"Sugar? Marshmallows? Whipped cream?" she inquired.
"Just plain," I asked hopefully. Janey attacked the keypad again, gave the enter button a good thump, and moments later handed me a mug.
"You just have to show those things who's boss," she said, scowling at the machine.
"Thanks a million," I said gratefully, taking a cautious sip.
"You're welcome," she began, then trailed off as her gaze focused over my shoulder. "Linebackers," Janey murmured.
"What are line backers?" I asked.
"Those gorgeous athletes are. Oh, no, that's not fair," she sighed. I looked round to see what had attracted her attention, but all I could see was a couple of young lads in some kind of sports uniform and shoulder pads that wouldn't have looked out of place in an episode of 'Dynasty'. They were each holding a ripe peach, and when they saw that they had Janey's attention they took big, juicy bites.
"Um, excuse me a minute, Vickie," Janey said distractedly. "I just have to teach them to eat peaches properly. I'll catch up with you later, OK."
"No problem," I told her, amused and bemused at the same time. Clutching my hard won drink, I took another look around. While I recognised a few names, not many would recognise me. I didn't have the time to do more than occasionally read through ASSD, so I wasn't a well-known, regular poster. The ASS people I knew best were either not on board or had succumbed to more pressing distractions, and I didn't really feel like introducing myself to a group of strangers. Especially considering the difficulties I was having making myself understood. So I set out to explore instead.
There seemed to be any number of parties going on throughout the train, some more intimate than others. I made several more failed attempts to communicate with my fellow passengers, but anything more than monosyllabic produced blank looks on my interlocutor's face. In my present anti-social mood, it wasn't really surprising I ended up in the more isolated areas of the train. Eventually I found myself in a dark and deserted stretch of corridor that terminated in a small room. There were so many dials and levers and buttons to occupy my attention that at first I didn't notice the short green man perched on bench.
"Oh, you must be the leprechaun," I said, somewhat inanely.
"No shit," he responded grumpily. "Full marks for observation. And before you start, I've already heard all the Lucky Charms jokes."
"Lucky charms," I asked in puzzlement. "You mean those little ornaments people hang on bracelets? What's that got to do with anything?"
"No, the breakfast cereal." He stopped and looked at me more carefully. "You're not American, are you?"
"No shit. Full marks for observation," I echoed sarcastically.
"Well, you must be Vickie Morgan. Sit yourself down," the little guy said, a smile appearing like magic on his face. "Finally, someone from the old country."
"I'm from Yorkshire, not Ireland," I pointed out. "Sven the Elder is from there, but I think he's too busy to take time out for this train ride. In fact, as far as I can tell, I'm the only one from the UK here."
"Really? There's quite a few British ASS writers, I'm pretty sure we picked some up."
"If they're here, I haven't seen them. I tried to get Nick to come, even offered him not only a good argument but also to let him beat me at chess, but I couldn't persuade him. I thought maybe Bronwen or Elena would be here, but I haven't seen hide nor hair of them. Everyone I've met is American, and they can't understand a word I say. As soon as I open my mouth, they look at me like I'm mentally deficient," I groused.
"That's nothing to the way they treat me. If they're not saying how 'cute' I am, they're making jokes at my expense. Just because I'm short doesn't mean I don't have feelings. And when I tried to express my admiration for Virago Blue, she got all ratty and half-throttled me with Pami's nipple chains. If I'd known that this was going to happen, I'd have let Shon have his first wish and to hell with the consequences. Hey, would you like a drink?"
He produced a bottle and a couple of glasses from out of nowhere, and poured me a generous measure. The amber colour and unmistakable smell told me that it was malt whisky, and I took a generous gulp. It burned down my throat and a lovely warm feeling spread through my stomach. I was feeling better already. I settled down on the bench next to him and took another swig. I began idly inquiring about the functions of the various buttons and levers in front of us. The little man gave me a rundown, all the while complaining about his fate. He seemed to be mainly reserving his venom for Shon, who he blamed for his current predicament. I gathered that not only was the Fantasy Train a severe drain on the leprechaun's magic powers, but he had also been forced to call in numerous favours to create it.
After a while his grumbling faded into the background and I just sat there sipping my drink and feeling sorry for myself. By the time I realised that my glass never seemed to get any emptier, it was too late. There was a buzzing in my brain and my fingers seemed to have become very fat and clumsy. When the leprechaun sat forward and peered into my face, I had difficulty bringing his face into focus. He gave a satisfied grunt, then blew a handful of powder into my face. When I stopped sneezing, everything seemed clearer but somehow more distant.
"I think that's a good idea of yours," the little green man told me.
"You do?" I asked, trying to gather my wits together. "Which idea was that then?"
"To get rid of Americans," he prompted, a strange smile on his face as he watched me.
"Get rid of Americans?"
"Yeah. No more e-mails telling you that you can't spell because you put a 'u' in 'colour'. No more having to call football 'soccer' just so they know what you're talking about, even though real football has been around for hundreds of years before they invented their strange game. No more people telling you that you talk funny. No more machines that don't know how to make a cup of tea. No more Barbie-obsessed men tricking me into this caper." His voice petered out, but for some bizarre reason his tirade made sense.
"Um, remind me again, how am I going to do this?"
"This is a time travelling train, remember. You can go back in time and change things, if you want," he said carefully. I tried to figure out what he meant, but my brain just wasn't functioning properly. The leprechaun heaved a sigh. "Who was responsible for the discovery of America?"
"I don't know, I never did American history, just medieval European. Oh, hang on, wasn't it that Columbus guy?"
"Well done," he said, for some reason heaving a big sigh.
"Mind you, the natives were there before that, and I'm sure plenty of sailors knew it was there before Columbus showed up," I observed, the buzzing in my brain quietening for a moment.
"Give me strength," the leprechaun muttered. He dug in a pocket and flung a handful of powder in my face again. When I finished coughing and spluttering I felt very strange, but everything he said seemed to make perfect sense.
"Right, so if you wanted to get rid of all Americans, and Columbus was the discoverer of America, and you had the means to travel through time, what would you do next?" he asked.
"Well, I could go back and try to persuade Columbus not to find America," I suggested brightly.
"What a brilliant idea," he enthused. "Well if that's what you wish to do, I'll take you to him immediately. I'll aim for the point in his journey when all on board had just about given up any hope of reaching land. If you show up then, I'm sure it will be easy enough to persuade him to turn around." He turned and started pulling levers and entering data on a keyboard, but I'm sure I heard him mutter, 'Even for a clueless gowt like you.'
If I hadn't been looking out of the window, I would hardly have noticed the train turning and slowing down. Within moments the vehicle was stationary, and when I stuck my head outside I discovered that we were hovering just above the waves of an ocean. It was getting on for evening, and about fifty metres away I could see three weather-battered ships sailing together in an otherwise empty ocean.
"Won't they think a hovering train a bit strange?" I asked.
"I've made sure they can't see us," he told me impatiently. "Now we have to get you prepared. Can you think of anything you will need?"
"Food," I said immediately.
"Food?"
"Of course. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I thought everyone knew that. If I give him a tasty and exotic meal, he'll be much more willing to listen to my suggestions. Especially if he's been eating shipboard rations for weeks."
"Hmm, maybe you're right," he admitted grudgingly. He opened a cupboard and pulled out a collapsible table, which he proceeded to set up and cover with a white tablecloth. He moved to a keypad, similar to the one I had struggled with in the kitchen.
"Right, what do you want?"
"Er, let's see. What century are we in? Fifteenth? How about a stir-fry, he probably won't have had much Chinese food. And one of those Thai curries with all the coconut and lemongrass. And a real Indian curry, a mild Korma and something hot like a Vindaloo. Then a fresh green salad, with all those fancy purple leaves in it. And some pilau rice and some egg fried rice and some naam bread and popadoms and prawn toast and prawn crackers. Oh, and stick in some chicken drumsticks with that spicy coating." I paused for thought, and heard the leprechaun muttering something about feeding a damned army. Ignoring him, I continued with my menu.
"Then we'll need something sweet. So lets have a fresh fruit salad, with all the exotic fruits in it like mangoes and kiwis, and lashings and lashing of custard and cream. And a sherry trifle, and queen-of-puddings, and lemon meringue pie, and chocolate cake, and summer pudding." I stopped, having run out of both breath and imagination.
"Right, got all that," he sighed, pulling the covered plates out of the machine and stacking them on the table. He fitted them on somehow, sighing and grumbling as he rearranged them.
"Now, how about you? You'll be wanting something to wear, I suppose."
I looked down at my jeans and top. "Good point. Can you magic me something up?"
"I'm no fairy godmother and you are definitely not Cinderella," he snapped, yanking open the door of a cupboard. He rummaged around, then tossed me a long white robe that laced up down the front. "Here, put this on?"
"This?" I asked doubtfully.
"All the saints preserve us," he exclaimed. "Just put it on, trust me. After all, you're going to have to tell him you're a vision sent by God to warn him, so this is very appropriate."
"Why am I going to tell him that?"
"Well, how else are you going to explain appearing on his ship out of nowhere, along with a small banquet?"
"Oh, good point. I'm still not sure about this dress thing though. It's a bit flimsy, are you sure you don't have anything else?" I peered over his shoulder into the cupboard.
"No," he snapped, slamming the door shut. However he wasn't quite quick enough and I had a quick glimpse of the contents.
"Wigs!" I cried in delight. "Can I have a wig? One with long blonde wavy hair. I've always wanted to try a wig."
"That's maybe a good idea," he said, giving my hair a disparaging look.
"It doesn't normally look this bad," I said defensively, automatically running my hands over my hair to try and make it lay down neatly. "It's just last time I was at the hairdressers we got talking, and she asked me if she had been ripped off by a computer shop. I had to tell her she had, and she got a bit wound up and cut off more than she meant to. Which is why it looks like this."
"I don't really care," he said brusquely. "You could have chosen the demented hedgehog look on purpose, it doesn't matter. All I care about is you getting over there and persuading Columbus to turn around and go home."
"Oh, he couldn't do that," I said.
"What!" he screeched. "Why not?"
"He'd have to go to Spain first, return the ships to Isabella and Ferdinand, before he could go back to Italy." For some reason, the little green man began banging his head against the wall, muttering what sounded like curses. Eventually he stopped, grabbed a long blonde wig and jammed it onto my head.
"Now if you just get changed, we can get started," he said.
"I'm not changing with you watching me," I pointed out indignantly.
"Fine, I'll just look at this wall until you say I can turn back round," he suggested, suiting his actions to his words. I fought my way into the robe, which took a few minutes because I was still feeling very dizzy. There was no mirror to see what it looked like, but by looking down I could see that my bra was visible through the lacing and looked silly, so I took it off. I kept my knickers on though, VPL or not. Trainers didn't seem to be appropriate footwear for a vision, so I went barefoot.
When I was ready, the leprechaun positioned me on a pad, and my table of food on another. He clipped a band around my wrist, which he explained would serve as a locator for the transporter, and he attached my translator-cum-name-tag to it. Apparently the table had a built in locator device.
"I'm going to watch and listen on this monitor here," he told me, turning it on. When you want the food, clap your hands and I'll send it over. If you need to return in a hurry, press the button on that band and it will bring you straight back here. Ready? Off you go!"
There was a rushing sound, and for a moment everything went black. When my vision cleared, I found that I was stood in the centre of a small cramped cabin. I immediately fell over, as the floor was pitching and rolling under my feet and I was still dizzy from the whisky and whatever it was the leprechaun had been throwing in my face. I felt a hand on my elbow, helping me stand back up, but the moment I regained my feet, the floor lurched again and I tumbled forward. I somehow ended up sprawled on the lap of a man who I devoutly hoped was Columbus. I tried to discreetly straighten my clothes and push my borrowed hair out of my face. He was a middle-aged man, with weather beaten skin, bad teeth and a generous growth of stubble. I wish I could say he was good-looking, but I would have to lie to do that. He was staring at me as if I was a snowman in June, which was hardly surprising.
"Who are you?" he demanded roughly.
"I'm a vision," I told him, gratefully remembering the leprechaun's suggestion. "I've been sent to warn and guide Columbus."
"Warn me about what?" he demanded. "And who sent you? Are you from the devil, a witch sent to taunt and torment me?"
"No, no," I said quickly, vague memories of the usual fate of witches at this point in history floating through my befuddled brain. "I work for the other side."
He still looked suspicious. "You speak strangely," he observed, "but how do I know you speak truthfully."
"I'm your guardian angel," I said, groping for inspiration. "I have come to feed and sustain you during your long journey, and warn you of great peril. See, a feast." I clapped my hands, and the table materialised in front of us. I was hoping the sight and smell of food would side-track him from asking awkward questions. Sure enough, when I started removing the covers, he lost no time pushing me out of his way and getting tucked in. Even allowing for the fact he might have been extremely hungry, his table manners were disgusting. He crammed food into his mouth with his fingers, chomping away with his mouth full and morsels escaping as he masticated. It was a good job I wasn't particularly hungry as the sight was turning my stomach. I sat in a corner and let him get on with it.
Looking around, I found my surroundings quite spartan considering that this was the leader of the expedition's cabin. There was a bunk down one side, with a thin mattress and blanket, and a board that could be raised during rough seas to stop you falling out. There was a chamber pot in one corner, which emitted a strong smell even though it was empty. A chest occupied one corner, with a chart draped over it and a few more stacked besides it. A smoky oil lamp swung from a hook in the centre of the room, and there was a door with a simple bolt holding it closed. I don't quite know what I had been expecting, but definitely something more salubrious than this. Between my spinning head, the motion of the ship, the sight of Columbus eating and the mingled smells of stale sheets, urine and burnt oil it was a wonder I didn't throw up.
At last, my companion gave a loud burp, and sat back with a satisfied sigh.
"Good," he grunted, digging something out of his teeth. His appetite sated, he turned his attention back to me. "Did you say something about a warning?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, eager to complete my mission and get out of there. "You must turn around and return home. A dreadful fate awaits not only you, but the whole of humanity if you continue." I lowered my voice and attempted to look suitably portentous.
"What kind of fate?" he asked. "Are we talking sea monsters and demons, or just storms and high seas? There's nothing marked on the charts."
"Terrors beyond your imagination, leading to awful agonies and a long drawn out death," I told him, trying to avoid exact details.
"When is this going to happen?" he persisted.
"Soon!"
"Right, I'll go topside and see if I can see anything. Maybe get them to reef in the sail a bit."
"That won't be enough, you must turn back."
"Now look here," he said stubbornly "do you know how hard it was convince anyone to finance this expedition? If I just turn back now, I'll never get another chance. Not only that, but I used my last bit of gold to buy provisions and directions. If I go back, how am I going to live? So I'm going to go on deck and see if there's anything dangerous around right now, then when I come back you can tell me a bit more about this terrible danger and we'll see if we can find a way around it."
"There is no way around, you must turn back," I told him again, but I was talking to his back as he left the cabin. More than a little disgruntled, I pressed the return button on my wrist.
Within moments I was back in the control centre of the Fantasy Train. The leprechaun was literally jumping up and down with rage.
"You useless lummock," he yelled. "Get back over there and make him turn back. The amount of planning and effort I've put into this revenge, I'm not letting you mess it up now."
"I tried, weren't you paying attention? He won't listen to me."
"He's a lazy, vain, greedy human, just like the rest of mankind" the leprechaun howled, "use that. Tell him you'll give him meals like that every evening for the rest of his life, and a purse full of gold every morning. Then take him to bed and fuck his brains out, and tell him you'll give him a night like that every night for the rest of his life. I guarantee he'll change his mind."
"Hey, hang on a minute! There's no way I'm doing that."
"Why not? That's what I recruited you?"
"I'm a respectable married woman. I don't go around telling gianormous lies and seducing ugly men, just to get them to do what I want."
"Come off it, I've read your stories," he said scornfully. "Those ones you wrote about that teacher, and that one where she seduces him, then kills him."
"So? They're just stories," I pointed out. "I made them all up. Just because I write stories about sex, doesn't make me a slut in real life, in the same way that writing thrillers doesn't make me a murderer in real life. Don't you get that?" He made an impatient scornful sound, then dug in his pocket. I remembered him doing that before, and ducked my head down so that the powder flew over my head.
"Stop doing that," I said crossly.
"Fine. If you won't do it my way, do you have any idea how to get Columbus to change his mind?"
"No," I admitted reluctantly.
"Well then, how about it?"
"No way. If you want someone to do that, go do it yourself," I snapped crossly.
"Yeah, right. Actually, hang on." The little green man stopped and thought for a moment. "Are you saying that you wish I would make myself look just as you do now, and that I would go over to Columbus' cabin and do whatever it takes to make him change his mind?"
"Well, yes, I suppose so."
"Just say 'yes, that is my wish'."
"Why?" I asked. "If that's what you want to do, why don't you just do it?"
"Do you think that if I could just use magic to grant my own wishes, I'd be here right now? Or that I'd be short and green and poor? I can only grant humans' wishes, although I admit I'm pretty good at getting them to wish for what I want. Of course a bit of Fairie Dust always helps too. So just say it."
"Say what?"
"Say 'yes, that is my wish'," he said very patiently.
"OK, yes, that is my wish," I repeated obligingly, not really sure what I was wishing for.
"Excellent," he said, then there was a flash of blinding light, and when my vision cleared I found that I was face to face with myself. Well, that's a bizarre experience. I had heard that your reflection in a mirror wasn't accurate because it's back to front. Well, it's true. I knew it was me, but I didn't look quite as I thought I did, if you follow me. Of course, the wig didn't help. Blonde hair and black eyebrows look very strange together. Then I noticed how transparent my gown was, and instinctively crossed my arms across my chest.
My counterpart gave a low laugh, then peered interestedly down the front of her, I mean his, gown.
"Hmm, maybe you should have wished for Maria's figure, or Virago's," the leprechaun said snidely. It was strange to see my mouth open and his voice come out. "Now pass me that transporter band. I'm going to have to rely on you, so concentrate. When this light here flashes, you have to pull this lever. That will return me straight back here. Do you think you will be able to manage that?"
"Look here, Mr. Leprechaun," I began indignantly.
"Call me Louie, everyone else does," he said. "Do you think you can manage to remember what you are supposed to do?
"I think I can manage that simple task," I sniffed.
"Great, I'm dependent on a wench who's ODed on Fairie Dust," he muttered. "Just concentrate, OK. I leave the monitor on, so you can watch an expert at work. See you later."
He vanished from my sight, and when I looked at the monitor I saw that he had appeared in Columbus' cabin. He barely had time to adjust to the rolling of the ship before Columbus returned.
"The sea's perfectly calm, in fact too calm, really," Columbus observed. "We could do with a bit more wind to suit me. So where's this danger?"
"If it was an obvious danger, I wouldn't have been sent to warn you," my doppelganger told him, somehow making his voice sound like mine. "But I do ensure you that it's essential that you turn back."
"And just why should I listen to you?" Columbus asked sceptically.
"I'm your guardian angel. I've been sent to comfort, guide and succour you in any way I can," the leprechaun announced, making my mouth smile seductively as he stood in the centre of the cabin. "Any way I can," he repeated, shrugging off his gown. I couldn't help blushing at the sight of my naked body, even though I was safely sat in the Fantasy Train. My double was so brazen, standing in front of Columbus without a stitch on!
Columbus' smirk became lecherous as he reached for the naked woman in front of him. I suppose allowances should be made for the fact that he had been at sea for so long, but even so I thought he was very rough. He pushed Louie to the floor, not bothering to get undressed, just freeing the essential equipment. I saw my face grimace with pain, and I was devoutly grateful that it was the leprechaun over there and not me. Columbus was grunting and thrusting, and almost before he had begun, he was finished. I was wincing in sympathy as Louie picked himself up off the floor.
"So Columbus, or can I call you Christopher, have you thought any more about turning back?" Louie asked. I had to give him full marks for persistence.
"Hey, you can call me whatever you want, I don't care," he observed, getting up, only to flop down on the bed. "If I turn around, then what? You disappear again and I'm left trying to explain why I didn't keep going and trying to find some way to pay my debtors."
"No, once you get back to Spain, I'll be there waiting for you. I'll provide you with food every day, and I'll warm your bed every night. I've shown you that I can do that. And as for your debts, I can provide you with as much gold as you will ever need," Louie promised, producing a gold coin from who knew where, and pressing it into Columbus' hand.
"Well, that's different," Columbus said thoughtfully. "If you can produce gold, then I can't see any reason why I shouldn't do what you ask. Now, why don't you get over here and show me some of your bed warming skills."
If it had been me, I would have thumped him as hard as I could where it would hurt the most. However, Louie just meekly crawled over to Columbus and lowered his head to his crotch. I couldn't watch. There was something obscene about watching myself give a blow-job to that unpleasant man.
I poked around the cabin, trying to distract myself, but apart from a couple of manuals there wasn't a lot available in the distraction department. When I looked back at the monitor, Columbus was laid on his back on the bunk and Louie straddling him. To my disgust, I could hear the unmistakable sound of myself approaching orgasm. I quickly stuck my fingers in my ears, screwed my eyes shut and hummed as loudly as I could. So it's not surprising I didn't immediately notice the light flashing. When I did venture to take another look at the monitor, Louie was shaking his fist in my direction and mouthing curses while Columbus snored on his bunk in the background. I quickly pulled the appropriate lever, and Louie materialised on the transporter platform.
"Blarney stones and shamrocks, can you not manage the simplest task, girl?" he asked irritably. He was once again looking like himself and not like me, which was a relief. "I need to get some kip, so I'm going to have to trust you again. Just don't let anyone touch anything, and wake me in about eight hours. At least I got the job done, he's turned around and America as we know it is no more. That'll teach Shon a lesson."
He pulled open what looked like a cupboard door to reveal a small bunk. He stuffed cotton wool in his ears and pulled a mask over his eyes. He gave me a final dirty look before shutting the door behind him. Left to my own devices, I soon became bored and, despite the uncomfortable seats, I fell asleep.
I was shaken awake some time later. The first thing I became aware of was a splitting headache, the next was that three worried faces looking down at me.
"Well, she's awake," Janey observed. "Vickie, do you know where the leprechaun is? No one can find him."
"He's sleeping," I muttered. "Lucky bastard."
"But he's supposed to be driving the train," Shon observed, far too loudly in my opinion.
"Don't worry about that, you don't exist anymore so it doesn't matter," I said, trying to reassure them.
"What?" Janey asked.
"You're American, no Americans exist any more, so you don't have to worry about anything."
"What is she talking about?" Maria asked. "Why don't Americans exist?"
"Is that what she said? I couldn't really understand what she was saying?" Shon said.
"Well, I'm listening to her in Spanish, and my Name Tag is translating for me," Maria explained. "But I don't see why you can't understand her. Surely she is speaking English?"
"She has this accent, though," Shon said.
"But surely the Name Tag thingy should still be translating for her," Maria asked.
"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Janey said thoughtfully. "Or maybe it can be altered so that it translates Yorkshire to American. Let me take a look at it."
"Careful, Janey, it's complicated technology, not like tinkering with the wiring at your in-laws' place."
"I know, I know. Yeah, look at this, it's got half the languages turned off. This will only take a second to fix. There you go. Now Vickie, what's this about Americans not existing?"
"Leave me alone, my head hurts," I protested. "It's too late, me and Louie persuaded Columbus to turn back and not discover America."
"Well, I understood the words she said, but it still doesn't make sense. She seems to be drunk or doped or something" Shon said.
"You don't think she's serious, do you?" Maria asked.
"Why would Vickie and Louie want to get rid of all Americans?" Janey asked. "They must have had some reason. Vickie, why would you do that?
"Leave me alone," I grumbled. "I can't remember. There was some reason. After all, why not?"
"I think we're going to have to try to reason with her," Janey observed. "Which isn't going to be easy considering the state she's in."
"Maybe if we remind her of all the great things Americans have done, she'll change her mind about obliterating us all," Shone suggested.
"Like what?" Maria asked.
"I don't know? Think!" Janey snapped. "How about the moon landing? Vickie, pay attention. If you get rid of all Americans, many wonderful things will disappear too. Just think, Americans put a man on the moon!"
"Yeah maybe," I muttered. "Lots of people think it was faked. And anyway, if the Americans hadn't got there first, the Russians would have got there soon enough."
"Great," Shon exclaimed. "Come on Maria, you're not American. What's the best thing Americans have ever produced?"
"Well, there's my husband," Maria suggested, giggling. "Other than that, I don't know. Hollywood?"
"Hollywood?" Shon echoed. "It's worth a try. Vickie!" he gave me a shake. "If you destroy all Americans, then there will be no Hollywood, no great films. No 'Star Wars', no 'Batman', no 'Gone With the Wind'."
"No 'Star Wars'," I echoed, sitting up faster than was advisable with my aching head. "No Hans Solo?" I took a deep breath to calm myself down. "No Harrison Ford?"
"That's right, no Harrison Ford. He's American. You don't want to get rid of Harrison Ford, do you?" Shon asked
"No, no," I told him, trying to get my head together. "No, no, no. Oh hell, what am I going to do?"
"Hey look," Maria called, pulling her head back inside after looking out the window. "We seem to be hovering over an ocean. Shame we haven't got a bucket. We could throw some water over Vickie, that might sober her up."
"Hmm," Janey said thoughtfully. "That's a good idea. If the mountain can't come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must go to the mountain."
"Uh, what?" Shon asked intelligently. "Have you been drinking the same stuff as Vickie?"
"No. Look, help me up with her." Janey and Shon hauled me to my feet and dragged me over to the window. They somehow manhandled me out of the window, and dropped me, only retaining their grip on my ankles. My gown slithered up, or down depending on your perspective, gathering around my armpits. The cold air alerted me a little to what was happening, and I looked up in time to see Maria place her hands over Shon's eyes.
"No peeking," she told him.
"Spoilsport," Shon sighed. I gave her a grateful smile, before making the mistake of letting my head drop back. The next moment I was engulfed by cold, salty water.
They dragged me back inside, wet but much more aware of what was going on.
"Can you explain what you mean by Americans not existing any more now?" Janey asked.
"That complete toe-rag Louie got me plastered, then threw a load of Fairie Dust on me and when I was off my head, he somehow talked me into going and persuading Columbus to not discover America. I think he's still miffed with Shon."
"But why did you go along?" Maria asked.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I was lonely, and fed up because no one could understand me, and with all the stuff he gave me I couldn't think straight."
"No one could understand you because your Name Tag was set to the wrong base language," Janey told me. "Louie must have done that. The question now is, what do we do to sort things out. I don't want to get home and find that America, as I know it, no longer exists."
"OK, give me a moment," I pleaded, holding my aching head. "Do you want to see if that food machine can produce some painkillers for me?"
"Here, I have some here," Maria offered, digging in a pocket. I gratefully swallowed them and tried to get my brain working again.
"I take it we haven't moved?" I asked, taking a quick look out of the window. Sure enough, Columbus' ships were still besides us, but now they were heading in the opposite direction. I took a quick survey of the settings for the transporter and saw that they were still set for Columbus' cabin. And a look at the monitor showed that Columbus was still asleep.
"OK, I have a plan, but I need your help," I said.
"If it fixes things, I'm willing to help," Shon replied, and the other two quickly agreed. I rummaged around in Louie's cupboards until I found a couple of white gowns like mine that would fit Maria and Janey. I gave Janey a wig of bright red hair, and Maria a wig with blue hair. I also asked them to wear every piece of jewellery I could lay my hands on. Most of it was costume jewellery, but it looked real enough.
"I'm going to look like a cross between a Greek goddess and a disco queen," Janey giggled.
"OK, face that wall while they get changed," I ordered Shon.
Shon waited until both Janey and Maria were half-naked before observing that he could clearly see them reflected in the shiny metal wall. Grinding my teeth in annoyance, I realised that Louie had watched me the entire time I had changed.
When they were ready and looking suitably exotic, I showed Maria and Janey where to stand and Shon exactly which lever to push. Then I pushed the button on my transporter device, and found myself back in Columbus' cabin.
I needed him awake, and since I wasn't particularly fond of him I used the simplest method of throwing a glass of cold water over his groin. When he had spluttered awake, I was curled up on the end of his bed.
"Good morning," I observed brightly, thinking he looked as awful as I felt. "I have to be going now, but I thought I'd say goodbye and thank you first."
"I thought you'd already gone," he mumbled. "You said we'd meet up again on the dock when I land."
"Oh right, yes, of course," I said, trying to look as shifty as possible. "Well thanks for everything, especially turning your ship around."
"Hang on, why are you thanking me for turning the ship around?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously. "I thought I was avoiding some great danger."
"You were. I mean you are," I replied, trying to look stupid and devious at the same time. He sat up in bed and grabbed me by my throat.
"I want to know exactly what this danger was, right now," he said, looking mean.
"Well, if you must know," I explained as best I could while being half throttled, "the danger wasn't to you, it was to us. We all live together quite happily in the land across the sea, but then we heard that you were on your way. To be quite honest, we just didn't want to share the bounty of our land with anyone. So I was sent to try to put you off, since I'm the ugliest woman in our land. And I fed you all our most disgusting food, again to put you off. But you didn't seem to find the food or me repulsive, so I had to try something else. And it's worked!"
"I don't know if you're lying now, or you were lying last night," he grumbled, letting go of me. I quickly moved out of his reach.
"Well I don't mind what you believe, just so long as you keep going in the direction you are headed," I told him. "My sisters will be arriving any moment to take me home."
"Is there any gold in this land of yours," he asked.
"Gold, what's that?" I asked, just as Maria and Janey arrived. He stared at them in shock.
"That's gold, all that jewellery they are wearing," he stuttered, his eyes bulging with greed.
"This," Janey asked, lifting one of the necklaces draped about her person. "This stuff is just laying around on the ground everywhere. It's quite pretty though, don't you think?"
Columbus was lost for words as I stepped close to Maria and Janey, and signalled Shon to transport us back to the Fantasy Train. We hardly had chance to step off the transporter platform before Shon was gleefully informing us that Columbus' ship was turning around.
"Right, now where's that bloody leprechaun?" I demanded, yanking open cupboard doors until I located the one that concealed the snoring Louie. I yanked him out and I was dangling him out of the window before he had time to wake up.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drop you out here and leave you for shark bait after the way you set me up?" I asked menacingly.
"You need me to drive the train," he cried, not even bothering to deny what he had done.
"Wrong," I informed him. "I've had all night to read the manuals, and I know how most of it works. I might not have your magic powers, but I'm confident I can get us home."
"What manuals?" he asked.
"Typical male, you hadn't even bothered looking at them," I said, giving him a shake. "If you ever, ever try to pull a trick like that on me again, or on anyone else on this train, I will find out and I will make you suffer in ways you can't even begin to imagine. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," he whimpered. I dragged him back inside and dropped him on the floor.
"You owe me big time," I told him. "Now I'm going to bed to sleep off this hangover. If anyone wakes me, I'll hold you responsible Louie, OK? Oh, and Louie? If you look out the window you will see that Columbus is back on his old heading. Don't even think of interfering with him again."
I left Louie staring out the window at Columbus' ship in a mixture of disbelief and amazement, and went to find my cabin. I imagined that by the time Janey, Maria and Shon had finished telling him exactly what they thought of him, he would be feeling a good deal sorrier for himself.
I quickly fell asleep in my surprisingly comfortable bed, and didn't wake up until Janey shook me awake. I sat up to find her offering me a bacon and fried egg sandwich, while on a TV in the corner 'The Big Breakfast' was playing with the volume on low.
"We thought we'd try to make you feel more at home," Janey explained. "We would have made you a full English breakfast, except that it's actually evening. You slept all day. Someone suggested making chilli con carne, so everyone got their recipes out and they're having a cooking competition. You're missing all the fun. Homer has nearly managed to convince Souvie that the right combination of cilantro and habanero will cause contraceptive failure, Lisela is running around trying to get all the recipes written down, and Maria and Greybeard are already arguing about the correct amount of seasonings. You've just got time for a shower before the first one should be ready. So hurry up!"
"No problem," I said, swinging my legs out of bed. "I'm a quick dresser. Hey, can we make Louie eat the hottest one?"
"You bet," Janey said, laughing. "I'll hold him and you can feed him."
I took a bite out of my sandwich and thought that this trip might be fun after all.
Copyright Vickie Morgan, 1999
E-mail [email protected]This story is distributed free of charge for your entertainment. It does take quite a lot of time and effort to write, type, edit and post a story, especially a long one like this. All I ask is that you take a couple of minutes to e-mail me, let me know that you've read this and perhaps give some reaction. Thank you.