Barnaby looked at Captain Kid. "So are we far from land?"
"Yes, far out to the Pacific." the captain replied genially. "We are heading to North America as we speak." The captain cocked his head. "Why are you wearing a gasmask? The air is not poisoned!"
"Oops, I just am trying to be careful." Barnaby replied as he took off his gasmask. He breathed in the air and it felt far more cleaner than the Earth in the future he lived in.
"You are overdoing it, wearing that thing." Captain Kid chuckled under his massive red beard.
"Are we the only two here on deck?" Barnaby asked.
"Of course, Pete and Penny are below deck." Captain Kid replied.
"You have children unsupervised down there?" Barnaby asked in alarm.
Captain Kid took a few steps toward Barnaby. "The penguins are quite safe. You are the one I am concerned about. What is your name?"
"Barnaby Milestone." he responded. Then Barnaby paused. "Did you say penguins? Are they like trained animals?"
"No." he laughed heartily. "They are part of Shamu's crew. Care to meet them?"
"Absolutely." Cad said. "But I need to call someone."
Barnaby pulled out his phone and started texting. "Strange device you have there." Captain Kid replied.
"It's an invention. My dad loved to invent." Barnaby lied. "Hello, Charlie Morningstar, how are you and Queen Bee doing? Did Vincent get away? Is anybody hurt?"
"Barnaby, I'm doing alright, and Bee is just fine—she’s actually helping me reorganize the hotel's 'Gluttony' suite as we speak! It's much quieter here now that the latest chaos has settled.
As for Vincent, he did manage to slip away during the confusion, but don't you worry too much; he didn't get far enough to cause any more trouble for us. Most importantly, nobody was seriously hurt! We’re all just catching our breath."
"Oh, thank God." Barnaby said.
Captain Kid watches you with an amused glint in his eye, leaning against the railing as the ship cuts through the Pacific. "Finished with your 'messaging,' then? Come along—Pete and Penny don't like to be kept waiting for their fish."
"I'll be there in a jiffy, captain, sir!" Barnaby once more saluted in a military fashion. The captain chuckled, shook his head and went below deck to bring the penguins on deck. Barnaby said, "Good news, I'm in 1985. Smartphones don't exist here. I had to tell Captain Kid the smartphone was my dad's invention to avoid too much suspicion. Don't want them to know too much at once before I try to get them to come to 2040."
"1985?! Wow, talk about a throwback," Charlie replies, her text practically beaming with excitement. "Smart thinking with the 'invention' cover story. Just be careful—if people back then see what that phone can do, they might think you're an alien instead of a time traveler!"
"Yes." Barnaby agreed. Barnaby felt Alastor in his head speaking to him, due to the deal they made. It was as though he were right next to him even though he was in Pentagram City.
"A 1985 vessel... how quaint," Alastor’s voice crackles in your mind, sharp and clear as a vintage radio broadcast. "Though I must say, Barnaby, lying to a Captain on his own ship is a dangerous game. It adds a certain flavor to the air, doesn't it?"
"Listen, Alastor, I'm trying to save the world. Not play with his mind. Besides, he doesn't look like the person whose going to make me walk the plank." Barnaby said.
"Save the world? Such lofty goals for a boy with a pocket-sized television," Alastor’s voice hums with a static-filled grin. "But do remember, Barnaby: the ones who look the most 'genial' are often the ones with the sharpest hooks. Still, enjoy your little aquatic parade!"
Captain Kid laughed, clearly only hearing half of the conversation. "Walk the plank? Heavens, Milestone, you’ve been reading too many storybooks! We only use the plank for diving competitions on calm days."
He whistles, and Pete waddles up to your boots, nudging your shin with his beak. Penny follows suit, flapping her wings and looking up at you with expectant, glassy eyes. "They're waiting for a greeting," Kid says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on! They don't bite."
Barnaby leans down, maintaining his stiff military posture even while squinting at the flightless birds. "Salutations," he says firmly, as if addressing a pair of new recruits.

"Formal lad, aren't you?" Captain Kid chuckles, leaning against the mast. "They aren't much for salutes, but they'll respect a man who knows his way around a fish bucket."
In the back of Barnaby’s mind, Alastor’s laughter crackles like a dying campfire. "Salutations? Oh, Barnaby, you’re treating them like high-ranking officials! Though, in this era, a penguin in a tuxedo is likely the most honest politician you'll find."
"Formal lad, aren't you?" Captain Kid chuckles, leaning against the mast. "They aren't much for salutes, but they'll respect a man who knows his way around a fish bucket."
In the back of Barnaby’s mind, Alastor’s laughter crackles like a dying campfire. "Salutations? Oh, Barnaby, you’re treating them like high-ranking officials! Though, in this era, a penguin in a tuxedo is likely the most honest politician you'll find."
Barnaby felt like telling Alastor to shut up but resisted the temptation. He said, mustering a smile, "Hello, Pete and Penny, I am Barnaby Milestone. Can you introduce yourselves so we can know each other properly?"
Barnaby blinked, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. He had grown up with the old records and stories of Shamu’s Crew, where the penguins were practically members of a barbershop quartet.
"Wait," Barnaby said, looking from Pete to Penny. "You mean they don't... talk? I heard they were quite the conversationalists in their songs."
Captain Kid let out a laugh so loud it nearly rattled the masts. "Talk? With tongues and teeth? Heavens, Milestone, what kind of 'inventions' has your father been showing you? They’re penguins, not poets!"
Suddenly, Pete puffed out his chest, looked Barnaby dead in the eye, and let out a series of squawks that—remarkably—sounded like a rhythmic, melodic ra-ta-ta-tum. Penny joined in, swaying her body to a beat only they could hear.
In Barnaby’s head, Alastor let out a crackling, distorted hum of a tune. "Oh, Barnaby! You’re looking for a musical number! How droll. Perhaps they only speak to those who have a bit of 'magic' in them... or perhaps you've finally cracked under the pressure of time travel."
"They have their own way of speaking, lad," Captain Kid said, his tone softening as he watched the penguins 'dance' on the deck. "If you listen close enough, you’ll understand 'em better than any man. They're telling you they're hungry! That’s the most important speech a sailor can give."
Barnaby watched them closely. While they weren't reciting Shakespeare, there was an intelligence in their eyes that felt almost human. He reached into his pocket and felt his phone vibrate—a text from Charlie Morningstar.
Barnaby answered it. "Hello, Charlie?"
"Barnaby! You still there?" Charlie’s voice comes through the speaker, sounding bright but slightly distorted by the 1985 signal interference. "I was just telling Vaggie about your 'penguin' situation. She thinks I’m making it up!"
Barnaby holds the phone up, and the SeaWorld sun glints off the screen. Captain Kid leans in, his massive red beard nearly brushing the glass.
"Is that a tiny person in the box, Milestone?" the Captain asks, his eyes wide with 80s-era bewilderment. "She sounds... remarkably chipper for someone living in a piece of plastic."
"Charlie, meet Captain Kid," Barnaby says, trying to keep his cool while Alastor hums a jaunty, mocking tune in the back of his skull. "And these are Pete and Penny. They don't speak English—at least, not yet—but they've got plenty to say."
"Oh my gosh, hi Captain!" Charlie squeals from the Hazbin Hotel. "And hi little guys! Barnaby, if they’re performers, they probably respond to music or cues. Try playing something for them! Maybe my dad’s invention has a catchy tune?"
Pete and Penny waddle closer to the phone, mesmerized by the glowing screen. Pete lets out a inquisitive honk right into the microphone.
"Did you hear that, Charlie?" Barnaby asks with a small smile. Barnaby adjusted his grip on the phone, his military-instinct for efficiency taking over. "Charlie, let’s be practical. If I’m going to recruit this crew for the year 2040, I can't rely on guesswork and fish buckets. Do you have any of that... Princess magic that could help me understand what they’re actually saying? I need to speak their language."
"Oh! A translation spell?" Charlie Morningstar chirped through the speaker, the sound of ruffling papers audible in the background. "I usually just try to 'feel' their emotions, but Vaggie says I'm too optimistic. Give me a sec... okay! I’m sending a little spark through the line. It’s a basic 'Universal Empathy' cantrip. Just hold the phone near your ear!"
A faint, pinkish glow pulsed from the smartphone’s screen. Barnaby felt a tingle in his eardrums—not painful, but like the pop of a cabin pressure change.
"...and if he doesn't drop the herring soon, I'm going to nip his shoelaces," a scratchy, dignified voice muttered.
Barnaby froze. He looked down at Pete, who was staring up at him with an expectant expression. The penguin hadn't moved his beak, but the voice was clear as day in Barnaby's mind.
"Patience, Pete," a softer, slightly more melodic voice chimed in—Penny. "The tall one with the glowing box looks important. Maybe he’s a high-ranking Admiral of the Fish Supply."
Captain Kid blinked, looking at Barnaby’s stunned face. "Everything alright, Milestone? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost—or a very small, very loud woman in a box."
In his head, Alastor let out a crackling, delighted chortle. "Oh, how marvelous! Now you can hear their tiny, feathered souls. Tell me, Barnaby, is the 'Admiral of the Fish Supply' ready to negotiate with his new subordinates?"
Barnaby stood frozen, his face flushing crimson as the "invention" in his hand began to vibrate with a voice far less "genial" than Charlie’s.
"ALASTOR!" Vaggie’s voice cut through the 1985 air like a serrated blade, projecting loudly from the smartphone speaker. "Stop harassing him while he’s on a mission! If I find out you’re messing with his head just to hear yourself talk, I will personally shove that radio cane where the sun doesn't shine! Leave him alone!"
The silence that followed on the ship’s deck was absolute, save for the gentle lapping of the Pacific waves.
Captain Kid’s eyes were nearly the size of saucers. He slowly backed away, crossing himself with one hand while pointing at the phone with the other. "Lord have mercy... that box has a temper! Milestone, is your father’s invention possessed by a Spanish banshee?"
Even the penguins were rattled.
"By the Great Whale," Pete’s voice echoed in Barnaby’s mind, sounding genuinely impressed. "The box-lady has the spirit of a leopard seal! I like her."
"She sounds like she could handle a shark with one flipper," Penny added, shuffling closer to Barnaby for protection.
In the background of the call, Barnaby could hear Charlie nervously trying to de-escalate. "Vaggie, honey, the volume! You’re going to blow Barnaby’s cover! Sorry Barnaby! Just... ignore the screaming!"
Alastor simply let out a staticky, delighted hum in Barnaby's head. "What a lovely performance. She really does have such a way with words, doesn't she?"
Barnaby cleared his throat, trying to regain his military composure. He looked at the trembling Captain Kid. "Internal... security system, Captain. Very high-tech. It’s, uh, programmed to react to interference."
Barnaby then asked, "So, where is Shamu, Dolly, Sir Walter, Seymore, and O.P. Otter? Are they farther away from us?"
Captain Kid wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, still eyeing the "security system" with deep suspicion, but the mention of his crew brought a spark of pride back to his eyes.
"Ah, you know the whole lot, do you?" Kid asked, his voice regaining its boisterous boom. "Aye, they aren't on this vessel! Shamu and the bigger folk—Dolly and Sir Walter—they don't exactly fit on a schooner like this. They’re likely already at the SeaWorld stadium or being transported by the larger fleet. We’re the scouting party!"
"Seymore? That loudmouth sea lion owes me three krill from our last go fish game," Pete grumbled internally, his mental voice sounding remarkably like a disgruntled sailor.
Barnaby suppressed a cough to hide a smirk. Hearing a penguin grumble about gambling debts in the voice of a salty boatswain was nearly enough to break his military bearing.
"And he cheats, too!" Pete added, his mental grumble growing louder as he flapped his flippers indignantly. "Balances the cards on his nose so you can't see the suit!"
"You're right, Pete! He's a scoundrel with whiskers!" Penny’s mental voice suddenly sharpened, her previous patience snapping like a dry twig. "I saw him do it to Dolly during the last time we played! She had to to say, 'Excuse you!' right to his sneaky face. If he’s willing to cheat a Dolphin by staring at her cards, he’ll try to swindle a human with a glowing box in a heartbeat!"
"Well, I don't see any sealion anywhere, so the phone is safe." Barnaby said.
Captain Kid chuckled, leaning back against the railing. "They’re staring at that box of yours like it’s a treasure map, Milestone! Better keep a tight grip on it. If Seymore were here, he’d already be trying to balance it on his nose for a round of applause!"
On the phone, Vaggie let out a sharp, dry laugh. "Sounds like this sea lion would fit right in with the sharks down here. Barnaby, just keep your gear secured. If a penguin is warning you about a thief, you listen."
Charlie chimed in, her voice bubbly despite the 1985 static. "Oh, don't be so hard on him! Maybe he just wants to see the pictures! But Barnaby, if you're worried about the 'glowing box,' I can ask my dad if there’s a... security spell? Or maybe we just trust O.P. Otter to keep everyone's flippers to themselves."
Alastor’s voice crackled with a sudden, sharp interest. "A thief, you say? How delightful! I do so enjoy a bit of larceny. Perhaps I’ll show the beast a trick or two when you arrive in 2040. I’ve always found that those who 'stare at cards' are very easy to... distract."
Barnaby ignored the demon's predatory tone and looked at the penguins. "Understood. The phone stays with me. But we need to find the rest of Shamu’s Crew. Captain, if the others are being transported separately, how do we ensure we all arrive at the SeaWorld docks at the same time?"
"It would be much better if we were all together before we reach the coast."
Captain Kid let out a warm, booming chuckle and ruffled his own beard. "Spoken like a man who knows the value of a full deck, Milestone! Aye, we shouldn't leave the big fella or the little otter trailing in our wake." The captain steered the ship toward the mainland. They next heard a barking noise. A seal in a sailors suit and cap climbed aboard. "Welcome aboard Seymore!" Captain Kid welcomed.
Barnaby’s breath hitched as the sleek, whiskered figure hoisted itself over the railing. Seymore the Sea Lion looked every bit the part of a nautical trickster, adjusting his miniature sailor cap with a flipper before letting out a loud, raspy bark that echoed across the deck.
Immediately, the Universal Empathy spell in Barnaby’s ear exploded into a chaotic cross-talk of mental shouting.
"Hide the phone! Hide the rations! Lock down the vault!" Pete’s mental voice shrieked, the penguin practically vibrating with alarm. "The scoundrel has arrived! He’s wearing the hat of an honest sailor, but he has the heart of a three-card monte dealer!"
Penny stepped in front of Barnaby’s boots, her flippers spread wide like a tiny, feathered bodyguard. "Eyes on your pockets, Milestone! He’s already looking at your 'invention' like it’s a shiny mackerel!"
Captain Kid laughed, oblivious to the penguins' mental panic. "Aha! Always the first to find the party, eh, Seymore? Did you swim ahead of the heavy transport just to see if we had any spare herring?"
Seymore tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with a mischievous, intelligent light. He let out a playful honk-honk and began to waddle toward Barnaby, his flippers slapping the wood in a rhythmic, confident beat.
"Oh, hello there, tall-and-shiny," Seymore’s mental voice drawled—it sounded like a smooth-talking carnival barker. "That’s a very fancy toy you’ve got in your hand. Does it do tricks? Does it... perhaps... contain any digital fish?"
From the smartphone, Vaggie let out a low growl. "Barnaby, the sea lion is already eyeing the gear. If he touches that phone, I’m coming through the screen."
Charlie was much more excited. "Aww, look at his little hat! Barnaby, ask him if he’s seen O.P. Otter! We need the 'heart' of the team to keep these three from starting a brawl on the deck!"
Alastor’s static crackled with a jaunty vaudeville tune. "What a charming little thief! I do believe I’ve found my favorite member of the crew. Tell me, Seymore—do you know any card tricks, or do you only specialize in 'borrowing' things that don't belong to you?"
Barnaby tightened his grip on his phone, keeping his military composure. "Welcome aboard, Seymore," he said politely, though his eyes remained wary. "We were just looking for the rest of your team. Where is O.P. Otter?"
Barnaby stood his ground as the sleek sea lion waddled closer, the animal's wet flippers leaving a trail of damp prints on the sun-warmed wood. Barnaby maintained his polite, disciplined posture, though he felt Pete and Penny press against his shins like feathered bookends.
"Welcome aboard, Seymore," Barnaby said, his voice steady and respectful. "We were just discussing the rest of the crew with the Captain. Where is O.P. Otter? Is he still with the heavy transport, or is he nearby?"
Seymore paused, balancing perfectly on his front flippers. He let out a series of short, barking huffs that the Universal Empathy spell translated into a smooth, slightly raspy drawl.
"O.P.? Oh, that little ball of sunshine is probably lecturing a jellyfish on the importance of 'group hugs' back on the main barge," Seymore’s mental voice chuckled, sounding like a Vaudeville performer. "He’s about two miles back, riding the wake of the big fella, Shamu. I decided to take a shortcut. More legroom out here, you see? And I heard there was a new 'Admiral' on board with a very shiny, very interesting piece of... equipment."
"Excuse me?" Barnaby asked. "Who told you I'm an admirial? I'm dressed in a black overcoat with silver reflector strips. Do I look like a naval officer to you?"
Seymore barked a sharp, raspy laugh, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. Through the Universal Empathy spell, his mental voice took on a teasing, "street-smart" tone.
"Well, you've got the posture of a man who sleeps standing up, and you're giving orders to a Captain with a beard larger than a walrus!" Seymore’s mental voice drawled. "Plus, those silver stripes? In my world, shiny usually means 'Important' or 'Delicious.' I figured 'Important' was the safer bet. But if you aren't an Admiral, what are you? A very shiny penguin in a human suit?"
Pete let out an indignant honk from Barnaby's left. "See? He’s mocking the uniform! No respect for the service, Admiral—er, Barnaby! He probably thinks those reflector strips are mackerel scales!"
Captain Kid chuckled, leaning on the railing. "Don't mind him, Milestone! In 1985, anyone wearing silver and black looks like they’ve just stepped off a space shuttle or commanded a fleet! You’ve got a commanding air about you, lad. Even the SeaWorld stars can see it."
"So is O.P. nearby?" Barnaby asked. As he was speaking, a sea otter, a cute fuzzy one carrying a bag of clams, climbed on board.
Barnaby’s face softened instantly. The tension in his shoulders, held tight since he’d arrived in 1985, seemed to evaporate at the sight of the small, furry creature hauling a heavy-looking bag of clams over the railing.
"O.P.!" Barnaby exclaimed, his voice losing its military bark and becoming warm.
O.P. Otter shook himself dry, sending a fine mist of seawater over Seymore’s whiskers. The otter looked up with bright, soulful eyes, his little nose twitching as he set his bag down.
Through the Universal Empathy spell, a wave of pure, comforting warmth flooded Barnaby’s mind. It felt like a soft blanket on a cold 2040 night.
"Oh, hello! I hope I'm not late for the meeting," O.P.’s mental voice whispered—it was gentle, earnest, and smelled faintly of sea salt and kindness. "I brought snacks for everyone! I know how cranky Pete gets when he’s hungry, and Seymore... well, Seymore just likes to eat."
Pete let out a muffled honk of approval, already eyeing the clam bag. "See? That's a professional. He brings snacks, not card tricks!"
Captain Kid beamed, kneeling down to give the otter a gentle pat. "There he is! The heart of the Shamu’s Crew! Now the gang’s almost all here, Milestone!"
On the phone, Charlie Morningstar made a sound that was half-sob, half-squeal. "Barnaby! He's so precious! He brought clams! Vaggie, look at his little face! He’s exactly what the world needs!"
Barnaby looked at Charlie's face on the phone. "Is that rainbows glittering in your eyes?" he asked her.
"Oh! Is it that obvious?" Charlie laughed, wiping a stray tear of pure joy from her cheek as her eyes practically sparkled with multi-colored light. "I just can't help it, Barnaby! Seeing O.P. Otter share his little bag of clams... it’s just so wholesome. It’s exactly the kind of magic we need to bring back to 2040!"
Vaggie leaned into the frame, shaking her head but wearing a tiny, reluctant smile. "She gets like this around 'pure' things, Barnaby. Give her five minutes and she'll be trying to knit the otter a tiny sweater."
Barnaby felt the urge to snicker but restrained himself. He turned to O.P. "Hello, are you O.P. Otter? I am Barnaby Milstone and I'm not an admiral."
O.P. Otter paused, his little paws clutching a particularly smooth clam. Through the Universal Empathy spell, his mental voice radiated a warm, fuzzy hum that felt like a hug.
"Not an Admiral? Oh, that’s much better! Admirals are always so loud and worry about the paint on the boats," O.P. thought, his dark eyes sparkling. "Friends are much better. You have a very kind heart, Barnaby Milestone. It glows almost as much as your silver stripes! Would you like a clam? It’s a very good one—I found it near the kelp forest!"
"Erm, thanks." Barnaby said.
O.P. Otter let out a cheerful whistle and did a little somersault on the deck. Through the Universal Empathy spell, his mental voice radiated pure sunshine. "You're very welcome, Barnaby! It’s a 'friendship clam.' It’s supposed to bring good luck and calm seas. I think you're going to need both for where we're going!"
Barnaby looked at his phone anticipating exactly what was going to happen next. "OH MY GOSH!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with pure, unadulterated glee. "Vaggie! Look at his little paws! He’s... he’s a little ball of sea-fluff! I can’t—I literally can’t!"
In the background, Vaggie could be seen sighing deeply, though she was carefully holding the phone steady so Charlie wouldn't drop it in her excitement. "She’s doing the 'heart-eyes' thing again, Barnaby. It’s a hazard. The last time she saw a puppy this cute, she accidentally manifested a rainbow that lasted three days."
Next they heard laughter from the water.
Barnaby's ears perked up as a silver flash broke the surface. It wasn't the deep rumble of the whale, but a high-pitched, melodic chortle that sounded like a shimmering bell.
"That's Dolly!" Captain Kid shouted, pointing his spyglass. "Listen to her! She’s always in a cheerful mood."
"Unless Shamu let's his ego get to his head or she catches Seymore cheating at cards." Pete replied.
Dolly glided closer to the schooner until she was bobbing right alongside the railing, her sleek head breaking the surface. She looked up at Barnaby with a wide, open-mouthed grin that looked exactly like a cheerful Bottlenose Dolphin smile.
"Hello, dark man!" her mental voice chirped through the Universal Empathy spell, sounding like a chorus of bells and giggles. "I’m Dolly! Who are you, man in the black coat?"
"Barnaby Milestone, ma'am." He replied.
Dolly let out a series of melodic, clicking giggles that shimmered through the Universal Empathy spell. "Milestone! What a solid name! Sounds like something you'd find at the bottom of a very important reef," she chirped, doing a playful little barrel roll in the wake. "And so polite! Most humans just point and throw frozen fish, but you... you talk to a lady like she’s the Queen of the Pacific!"
"Yes, let's cut to the chase. I am looking for Sir Winston Walrus, Virgil Pelican, and Shamu the orca. Can you lead us to them?" he asked politely.
"Right away, Barnaby!" Dolly chirped, her mental voice performing a joyful backflip through the Universal Empathy spell. "Sir Winston is probably grumbling about his tusks, and Virgil is likely trying to fit a whole tuna in his beak—follow my wake!"

End of Chapter