Unaware of the octopus menace growing in the wings, the prisoner woke on the forecastle of the Sea Star.

Bosun Bicklesworth asked, “Where’d ya go thurr, matey?”

The prisoner didn’t know and he said so.  Ocean spray came over the gunnel and washed away the last sliver of his dream.

The bosun said, “Stand up then, yarr.” 

The prisoner stood up in the sunshine and the hard wind blew. 

The bosun clapped him on the back and said, “Me thought we’d lost ye, yarr!  Aye, we did!”

The prisoner was confused and surveyed the big ship.  The sails and rigging blotted out the sky behind the bosun as the ship rocked from side to side and back and forth.  He focused on the blue-uniformed figures on the quarterdeck behind the mainsail.  The sails cracked in the wind and the salty ropes creaked.  The prisoner got vertigo.  He leaned against the gunnel unsure on his landlubber’s legs.  The Jolly Roger flying atop the highest tegelen sail smiled down at him and he smiled back. 

Rosalie put her hand on his back and asked, “Are you ok, love?”

Behind the sails, the sky was scarlet and orange fading to deep purple.  The prisoner looked overhead where the rigging hardly crossed the ship’s foremost section.  He saw deepest space of night though it was day on deck and skies were blue near the horizon.  He looked again and saw the sky fade to sunset near the zenith.  At the zenith, he saw stars and a planet with wispy white stripes.  He told Rosalie he was confused.

Bicklesworth thought to help.  He said, “Garr!  Yer on the ye oldie Sea Star, sailing from one life to yer next.  Bo!  Hurr!”

Rosalie asked if he remembered.  The prisoner noticed a half-dozen others standing with him, beside Rosalie and the bosun.  The look on the prisoner’s face said that he did not remember and the bosun frowned.  The bosun said, “Best we take ye belowdecks, reckon.  Yarr.”

“Did you fall asleep?,” Rosalie asked.

“I, uh...,” the prisoner didn’t know.  “Who are you?”

“Me?,” she laughed, “I’m Rosalie.”

Bicklesworth said, “And you wouldn’t be forgettin’ yer old matey the bosun now, would ye?  Narr!”  The prisoner only frowned as the ship rocked from side to side, and back and forth.  The bosun said, “Barr!  ‘Elp me wi’im, would ya, lady?”

The prisoner said, “It’s ok, I got it.  Below deck you said?  Lead the way.”  The bosun told Rosalie to stay put and he led the prisoner to the hatch.  They walked past some salty old sea dogs milling about, swabbing the deck and such.  They didn’t give a glance.  A few score non-nautical types watched intently as the prisoner followed the bosun to the hatch. 

“Down the hatch master!  Aye!  Right down ya go!  We’ll get ye all ship shape ‘n’ fooly in yer noggin, ain’t no concern.  Narr.”

The prisoner climbed down the ladder until the blue sky was hidden by the ship’s timbers.  Looking up the ladderwell, he saw the ropes and sail lit with daylight but behind them only the night sky where a greenish planet replaced the old one.  Confused and ignorant, the prisoner climbed to the bottom and the bosun followed him down.  The ship rocked along its gait, this way and that way, side to side and back again, creaking along the way.

The bosun wrapped on a secured hatch three times and unlatched it when there was no reply.  He said, “‘Ave a seat. I’ll fetch the doc.  Aye.  Fetch the doc, yarr.” 

The bosun and the prisoner went impossibly far belowdecks compared to the size of the ship seen from above.  The prisoner asked him about it but the bosun only laughed. 

The bosun said, “Aye.  She’s a good big ship she is.  Wouldn’t ‘ave it no other way!  Narr, she woon’t.  A good big ship and true!  Yarr!”

Bicklesworth walked away mumbling.  The prisoner waited.  The light through the single porthole played in the kit netted to the overhead.  Amnesia occurred to him, and he tried to recall, but his breath was too hot when he breathed it and he only felt sick.

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A brief tap at the door and a red-faced man burst into the room.  The doctor’s shiny, crimson, form-fitting body suit threw the prisoner for a loop.  The shock of unkempt crimson hair made the man altogether ridiculous.  The doctor said, “One Two Axelzaxbar, ship’s doctor.”  He extended his hand and the prisoner shook it.  “Oh my!  Aren’t we the clammy one?”  The doctor shook his head tsk-tsk-tsk, “That’s not good.” He turned his back to rummage through a hanging net.

The prisoner said, “I’m confused.”  One Two Axelzaxbar paid him no mind and moved to a second net, and then a third.  “Doctor One Two... what was your name, sir?”

“One Two Axelzaxbar.  But please, feel free to call me Twelve.  Here, drink this.”  Twelve uncorked a gourd and jammed it at the prisoner’s face.  Fine mist piped out like a sci-fi piston.  The prisoner took a whiff and chugged it.

Twelve plopped down on a stool and stared into his patient’s eyes, first the left, then the right.  Left right, left right, the doctor examined his eyes quite closely.  “So, my friend, please do tell me.  How did you come to be aboard our fair lady?”

“Fair lady?”

“The Sea Star.”  Twelve waved his hands around to the deck and bulkheads.  “This lovely ship.”

“I don’t remember.  I can’t remember anything to speak of.”

“Do you remember Earth?”

The prisoner smiled.  “Yeah.  I’m definitely from Earth.  I’m American.”  Then he said, “Is this not Earth?”

“And Mr. Bicklesworth informed me that you nodded off already?  On the very first day?”

The prisoner thought, Did I?, and said, “I don’t think so, but—” 

The doctor cocked his eyebrow and gave an incredulous look. 

“Well, maybe,” the prisoner corrected himself.

Twelve said, “Well, if you did then I’m quite surprised, quite surprised, mind you, that you’re still here!”

The prisoner said, “Why’s that?”

“Don’t you remember the orientation?”

“No.”

“I see.”  Twelve frowned and looked away.  “Well then, the skinny-minnie of it is that you died on Earth and ascended, or maybe you ascended in life, it happens you know, and you made it to the Port of Higher Calls from whence we’ve departed just this morning.  Does it make bells ring for you?”

The prisoner shook his head no.

“We ferry the Ascendant from their home worlds to their next port of call.  The thing is with you, though...  you can’t fall asleep!  Are you sure you don’t remember the orientation?”

“I sure don’t.”

“Well, the thing is: you mustn’t fall asleep!  If your attention disintegrates then so will you!  Do you understand?”

“I died?”

“Maybe you did, I don’t know.  I fear you’re dead now but let me explain.  You cannot fall asleep on the Sea Star because it is only an unbending intent that will guide us to your destination.  Those who fall asleep fade away.”

The prisoner showed the doctor his hands. “Well... I’m still here, man.”

“Yes, but Bosun Bicklesworth tells me you were nodding off.”

A long moment passed and the prisoner said, “Well... I was dreaming so, yeah.  I guess I fell asleep.”

“Most interesting, my boy!  An exceptional case!  An exciting event!”  He snatched the gourd out of the prisoner’s hand and licked the strung cork.  “Do tell me.  What was your dream?”  The doctor jumped his stool back and kicked his red-booted feet up on the bench where the prisoner sat.

“I don’t remember.”

“I see!  I see!  You don’t remember.  Of course!  You don’t remember the dream you had on the forecastle.”  The doctor dropped his feet and scooted closer to him than the prisoner cared for.  Twelve said, “But riddle me this then, my good man: how did you come to be on the forecastle?”

“I don’t—,” the prisoner began but a vision came to him.  “I was watching some mermaids play near the bow.”

“Yes of course!  The merfolk.  Beautiful creatures!  I fancied more’n a few mermaidens in my time.  Beautiful creatures.”  Twelve winked slyly.  “Life at sea’s different than life ashore, you know!”  He jabbed his fingers into the prisoner’s ribs and smiled a wide mouthful of very pink teeth.  He said, “Life at sea’s different than life ashore, you know,” and prodded the prisoner with his finger again.

The prisoner said, “Dude,” as he brushed the doctor’s hand away.

Twelve said, “Hmmm... well, yes, it is, you know.” He relented in his prodding and gave the prisoner room to breathe his too hot breath.  In a hardly audible whisper the doctor muttered, “Quite different, you know.”  A moment passed and the doctor winked, and the prisoner chose to smile.  Was it good that his memory was coming back or was it bad that he was discussing the delights of the mermaidens with a red man in a red body suit in a dingy ship’s hold?  The prisoner did not know. 

The prisoner said yes and no when the doctor asked him many more questions.  He listened intently to everything the doctor said but it didn’t quite come together as a coherent narrative. 

Twelve said, “Alright, my boy.  Back up on deck with you.  Unless you’ve some questions for me.”

“You mentioned that people, uh... you said those of who fall asleep fade away.  Why didn’t I fade away?”

“That is an excellent question to which I will be devoting my full attention when I return to university.”  One Two Axelzaxbar, R.R., M.D., Ph.D., Ph.Q., Z.ζ.7 stood and opened the hatch to the gangway where he motioned the prisoner to be on his way.

The prisoner said, “And one other thing.  We’re all dead?”

“Oh no, my boy!  We’re very much alive.  You Ascendant have only shuffled from mortal coil to the next, and those of us in the ship’s crew know nothing but life.  Move along now, abovedecks with you.”

The prisoner had one more question but chose not to ask it.  He preferred to believe that he misunderstood the doctor’s blathering.