Post by dans on Nov 23, 2022 14:25:44 GMT
Before you start this - unless one of the other authors here is interested in picking up the story, it is unlikely to be completed. This is only a prologue. So if you don't want to be left hanging, you should probably look for some other stories on this site.
*****
It was a dark and stormy night. A ship appeared on the horizon. Suddenly, a shot rang out!
A few seconds later, the flare exploded high overhead, temporarily illuminating the beach on the tropical island of Artica, where Ralph Dixon and Ray Piper stood, watching the ship hopefully. They had been marooned on Artica Island for many years, and though they had won the favor of the island's inhabitants (in fact, the King had asked Ralph to consider being the next king!), Ralph, at least, was anxious to return to his own milieu. A minute or so later, a flare burst over the ship. Ralph quickly fired another, and once again the ship replied.
"Looks like we're finally going home, son!" Ralph exulted. Ralph was a full blooded Apache and
had been an extremely successful businessman in the US; his warrior name was Fighting Hawk - and he'd been getting mighty bored recently. Arctic Island had its challenges, but he was familiar with them all by now, and was eager to pit himself against something new.
Ray replied bitterly. "You're a famous National Geographic explorer with millions of dollars, and owner and publisher of your own 'Idle Hours Investments' magazine, and you secretly work for the CIA, and all that's great... for you. But why should I want to go? I was never anything more than the cabin boy and gopher on your yacht, a charity hire from the slums... but here I'm the 'World's Best Archer'" In the flickering light of the flare, Ray say Ralph frowning. "Sorry! "The World's Best Boy Archer'! But I'm just as good as you, anyway, and when you're gone, that's what they'll finally say about me!" He pointed to the village on the bluff overlooking the beach, where most of the island's earlier inhabitants were sleeping.
"Well, if that's the way you feel, Ray, I won't force you to come back with me. But think it over carefully one more time, will you? Looks like we'll be able to leave in only a few hours! And I may have hired you off the street in what you call 'the slums' but I know better - you are destined for great things, young man!" There was a quiet but very firm assurance to his tone - he truly believed what he was saying.
Ray thought for a second. "Say, do I still work for you? I mean, ever since we crashed here, you never fired me and I never quit..."
"Hmm... I guess so," Ralph responded thoughtfully. "So... I guess I owe you some money. Buck fifty an hour, 60 hours a week straight time, 171 weeks, $15,390. Two-twenty five, time and a half, another 40 hours a week, 171 weeks, another $15,390. And hazard pay the other 68 hours a week, 10 bucks an hour times 171 weeks, $116,280. Call it $150 grand. But you'll have to come back with me to get paid - I doubt if they'll cash a check for me on this ship! And the cash wouldn't do you much good here, either. Not even good for TP..."
Ralph had rattled off the numbers as fast as he could speak, but Ray knew they were accurate. Ralph was a human calculator, on top of being a great athlete and a superb archer. On the one hand he was stunned by the amount - to a former street urchin turned cabin boy, that was more money than God had. He knew Ralph was joking, sort of - but he was also sure that Ralph would instantly pay him at least that amount if he asked. On the other hand, he wasn't really interested in money, if he stayed here he wouldn't need it, but he'd be without his best friend. He'd never really thought about the choice before, never believed they might be rescued. He was glad he only had a few hours to think it over, but he realized it might be a choice he'd analyze over and over again throughout his life.
"I'll think about it!" was all he said in response.
