STACY:
“He’s staring at someone.”
CAELWYN:
“Someone he knows.”
Across the tavern, a sailor raises his cup.
Someone in the crowd raises one back.
Then the bodies shift.
The other man disappears.
SAILOR:
“Thomas?”
Another pirate turns.
PIRATE:
“Thomas drowned.”
SAILOR:
“I know.”
PIRATE:
“Three years ago.”
The sailor looks at the wet floorboards.
SAILOR:
“I know.”
STACY:
“Rum?”
CAELWYN:
“Possibly.”
STACY:
“Memory?”
CAELWYN:
“Possibly.”
STACY:
“Ghost?”
CAELWYN:
“Possibly.”
Later, an old song begins.
A verse nobody remembers.
One voice sings it from somewhere inside the crowd.
The sailor goes pale.
SAILOR:
“Thomas used to sing that.”
Then the voice stops.
Outside, lanterns sway above the quay.
A man stands at the water’s edge.
Dark coat.
Bare head.
Water dripping from his sleeves.
SAILOR:
“Thomas.”
STACY:
“I see him.”
CAELWYN:
“So do I.”
The figure raises one hand.
Like a man lifting a cup to an old friend.
The sailor turns away for a moment.
When he looks back, nobody is there.
Only wet footprints.
Beginning at the edge of the quay.
Leading away from the sea.
STACY:
“So he was real.”
CAELWYN:
“We saw something.”
STACY:
“That distinction is becoming annoying.”
CAELWYN:
“It’s becoming important.”
Behind them, the celebration continues.
Another verse begins.
This time, more voices know the words.
Perhaps they heard them earlier.
Perhaps they remembered.
Perhaps there is no difference tonight.
What happens when the people you remember begin remembering you?
Enter a Pirate Borg world that remembers what you did: