Lottery Dreams Ch. 13: We didn't Mean

"What the hell did you think we were all doing here?" Charley never looked up as he took a spanner to the machine.

"When he mentioned slaves, I thought he was making some sort of kinky film. You know, like S and M?"

"Rufus was sick. He killed people. The world should know about this place." Charley looked up from the generator. "Pass me that big wrench please?" He put his hand out.

"You are clever with this stuff right?" She handed him the heavy wrench.

"You don't remember me, do you?" said Charley.

"Of course I do. You were the guy from the Euro lottery thing, and we met again, in Hong Kong. We first met in that horrible pub in your village."

"That's right. I've known about you for a lot longer than that. Your picture used to be pinned all around our factory in Rutland."

"Rutland, where the hell is that?" laughed Nat throwing back her head. " Some hick town right?"

"You might say that," he smiled back.

"Where you the guys that won the big pot of money, then lost the ticket to an even bigger fortune?"

"The very same dumb hicks."

"Oh come on, I didn't mean it like that. What happened to your ticket? Did you ever find it?"

"Sure, it's right here on the island."

"You have to be kidding me, right?"

"Straight up," said Charley. "That's why I came out here. I knew the ticket was locked up in an old machine. So I tracked it down and followed it here."

"So where the hell is it?" The girl was very excited now.

"Locked in the drive shaft of my old guillotine."

"Yes, and we cannot get it out." Raj entered the bunker with a toolbox. "So you told her about our money?"

"She would have found out."

"So you cut them in for a share?" Natasha could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"I don't need it, and I can't get at it without their help. The money isn't that important anymore." Charley had managed to free part of the machine, and it looked like they might leave the island after all.

"What sort of fag talk is that?" Natasha took hold of his arm and stopped him. "These people will cut your throat for the price of a meal."

"They are my friends and I trust them. Now let's get off this island before it goes up."

The plan for the ship was going better than Charley had expected. He had never been to sea, but of course, all the other asylum seekers had. Stowaways; paying passengers, and members of crews, they all knew what to expect. With power restored to the ship, they were more confident that they could actually escape. In fact, the only problem which stood in their way was navigation.

"How do you plan on getting across the ocean?" asked Natasha as they stood on the bridge of the ship, and watched everyone working. "It's a big place?"

"We need a compass and a map," said Charley. "I know that much."

"And we can steer by the stars," said Raj.

"I'm with a pair of regular geniuses here," said Natasha. "Have you any idea how to do this?"

"Have you?" asked Raj, knowing they had none.

"I learnt a little when I was working the cruise ships. What I do know, is that you need something more substantial than a school atlas." She threw down the dog-eared book, which had served the previous Captain.

"It shows the countries?" said Raj.

"You need correct charts, with shipping lanes. What happens if we get cut in two by a supertanker?" asked Natasha, having her own doubts now. "Not to mention hidden rocks."

"But we still have to leave," pointed out Charley. "One way or another, we have to get out of this place."

"How do we even know what the weather is like out there? We need the forecast to predict the winds and tides."

"Well, that's settled that," smiled Charley. "Seeing as you know so much about it, I'm appointing you navigational officer."

"And who said you can call the shots?"

"You want to stay here and fry? Every night that porno channel is off the air, it's one closer to death for us."

Natasha was quiet for a while, knowing he had called her bluff.

"Alright, but I'll need some things. We have to have some sort of radio."

"Why would we need music?" asked Raj, puzzled.

"Not music, you dummy, we need the BBC world service for the weather forecasts. Once we have those, we have some idea of what's going to hit us. Let's look through Rufus' place. I'm sure he would have some sort of detailed map. The pilots might have left something behind." Natasha strode off to get things going.

"There is a great deal of paperwork laying around the satellite station," said Raj, following her. "Maybe they used it to site their dishes or something?"

"Brilliant!" shouted Charley. "They would need a very precise location. So they must have had detailed maps?"

"We haven't the time to search through it, just grab the lot and bring it in here. We can sort through it, once we are underway." She took her mobile phone from her pocket and held it up, high on the bridge. "You notice you can't get a signal anymore? That means you knocked the mast out."

"Why should that concern us?" asked Raj, walking down the ramp that had been built alongside the ship.

"Because, if we can't get a signal out. They can't get a signal in. So the outside world, knows something is wrong."

"You two get that organised and I'll see to the loading of the drive shaft. Can't leave without that. First of all, I need some of that paint from the film set. Don't ask why, I have my reasons. All we have to do now is hope the bloody ship goes."

Down in the engine room, several men pondered the workings of the old machine. They had all worked on ships around the world from the arctic to the Panama canal. So the great age of the engine, was no more disconcerting for them, than any other. Quite used to working for employers with short arms and long pockets, they just set about the dark block of metal, until it fired into life. Amidst great billowing of smoke and an unearthly scream from the metal bowels of the ship, they finally gave everyone the impression that they were to set sail.

With the drive shaft loaded on board, and everything of any value stuffed into the rusty hold of the ship, Charley stood on the bridge and tried to make up his mind.

In the old days, he would have been so filled with self-doubt, that they would not have made it this far. Now, they were all looking to him to be strong and decisive.

"Right, let's go."

"But there are still useful things in the factory we might need?" Raj stood on the deck and looked up at the man.

"We can't wait any more. Any minute now an aircraft will appear in the sky and drop a bomb. No, let's go."

"The man's right Raj," said Natasha. "We have enough junk here, to get us to San Francisco Bay."

Indeed, they had loaded everything including the kitchen sink, on board the rusty hulk, and Charley feared it might not take the weight. He need not have worried, as they stared back at the quayside at the group of people watching them go.

"Why the hell are they still there?" Charley asked Raj, as the engines gunned into life.

"They want to stay."

"What? Are they mad?"

"They just want to stay."

"But don't they know what's going to happen once the authorities turn up here?" Charley could not believe what he was seeing.

"They don't believe the fireball story. They want to take their chances with the people once they turn up. I know what you are going to say, but please remember these people have been through a lot. They know what danger is, and they are not afraid. So please respect their wishes."

With that the matter was closed, and the ship set sail across the Pacific ocean.

"You know," said Raj. "we haven't given her a name? Our ship?"

"How about HMS Hopeless?" laughed Natasha.

" Only their Lordships at the Admiralty are allowed to name ships, HMS," said Charley, looking out to sea. "How about the good ship Lottery? After all, that's the reason we are all here?"

"Lottery it is then," said Raj, wondering if it would bring them luck.

And they needed it now.

"Just where are we on the map?" asked Charley, as they all pondered the detailed listings on the chart.

"About here," Natasha pointed to a spot where her pencil marks joined. "Give or take a few hours. I'm trying to keep us away from the main shipping lanes, but we still have to get to a real port. Or a real country, come to that."

"Just what are we to do?" asked Raj.

"Other than getting the money, I have not given it much thought," said Charley. "Natasha and I are home and dry. We have or had, passports. Once we contact our consulates, we can arrange for our identities to be confirmed. That way they can issue you with a new one. You lot, on the other hand, are not welcomed anywhere."

"So the longer we stay at sea, the better?' Raj knew he echoed the views of the others. Many of them, had grave reservations about coming on the voyage. "Where are we going? I mean in the end?"

"England, I suppose," said Charley.

"They do not exactly have a good record of welcoming people like us, with open arms," Raj pointed out. "We are very worried about that."

"So you should be," Charley remembered the factory. "Back at Cobol, we had a shed load of lost souls, who were not much better off than you. Only conditions were never as bad as what we left back there."

"Have you given much thought to how you are going to smuggle them across the border?" Natasha glanced up from her papers.

"I thought I would deal with that at the time."

"You can't just adopt them, and all live together like one big happy family. Although the money might help." She took a pair of binoculars and looked out to sea. The island was almost out of sight now, and things seemed very grown-up and lonely.

"I was hoping the publicity surrounding the Euro lottery, might help our cause. When we met in London, for the handing over of the cheque, they were interested enough in us then. Why not now?"

"It might not go down too well with the boys up top?" Natasha pointed out.

"Who might that be?" Raj was searching the horizon with her.

"The very same people who trapped you back there, and will be handing over £200 million to Charley here. You know, they don't like having their chain pulled. And you will make them look like the biggest bunch of jerks in the world. How you think they are going to react to that?"

"She has a point." Charley did not want to think about it, but he knew the problem would keep coming back.

"Have you thought about the girls back there?" Natasha drew his attention to the women, freed from the bunker and the threat of making more special films for the satellite channel. "You think they want to come on this moral crusade? Hell no. They will want to be put off on the first reasonable port. Hong Kong, or something. We are not running the Love Boat here. Think you had problems with the armed guards back there? You ain't seen nothing until you have a crowd of dissatisfied women on your hands."

On the second day of the voyage, they had all gained enough confidence to believe they could sail clean around the world. Everything was going well, and Natasha even got the BBC world service on a small radio someone had found.

"Bad news guys," said Natasha looking at her charts and listening to the radio. "There's a cyclone bearing down on us. The radio says, a meteorology system of winds rotating inwards to an area of low barometric pressure, giving a depression. In other words, we are up shit creek!"

"What shall we do?" said Raj, panic in his voice. "I've been at sea in bad storms, and I fear this old ship will not make it."

"Can we go round it?" asked Charley.

"Best thing we can do is go the other way. Try and head for Hong Kong."

"We are doing fine, as we are. I'm sure we can cope," smiled Charley.

So it came as a complete surprise when the supertanker bore down on them.

"What the hell is that!" shouted Raj as they all rushed out on the deck.

"Everyone hang on!" Charley shouted as the menacing wall of grey steel loomed up at them.

The sky was crystal clear and no sea mist blocked their view, so the crew was just as angry at themselves, as they were at the monster bearing down on them now.

"How did we miss that?" Raj raced about wondering what he should do.

"I told you to place regular watches, night and day!" Natasha was wondering how long she would last in the water.

"It just came from nowhere." Charley watched the wall of steel grow larger. "I thought you said we were off the shipping lanes?"

"Tell it to them!"

The ships never collided, but the wash created by the mighty ship was enough to rock them severely. The old hull creaked and groaned, as flakes of rust crumbled off the bulkheads to fall at their feet.

"Do you think it did any damage?" Raj did not want a real answer to the question, but they were all thinking it.

"Let's take a look below." Charley led them all down into the heat of the ship. In the very depth of the rusty hull, they found their answer. "Not as bad as I had thought. There is some leaking, but the rivets have held. Thank God for British shipyards."

"So will it make it to China?" asked Natasha.

"As long as we rig up a pump. We are taking in water, but all old ships do that. As long as we can pump it out, faster than it's coming in, we are OK."

The heat beat down, and the ship sailed on.

There was a new mood amongst the travellers now. They had all been through these narrow scrapes before. In order to get from their homelands to that island, they had faced dangers equal to this many times. But they still knew this was an important moment. They settled down to a routine of trying to keep the ship tidy, if not clean, and life went on.

The problems of accommodation were settled very quickly. Natasha and the girls, simply chose the best quarters, for themselves, and no one argued. Natasha was at least, left with several of her suitcases. Thrown from the plane as it took off. Raj and several of the more important members of the crew had chosen the old bunks, used by the original crew. Everyone else just found a place below deck. Charley slept in the Captain's chair on the bridge.

The heat meant that their only real problem was keeping out of the sun during the height of the day. According to the radio, no storms were looming up on their journey, and things looked as if they might actually make it.