"Pirates of the Caribbean

Other people say, at times,
That I am not a real pirate.

M. Shcherbakov

The endless expanses of the Caribbean sparkled under the morning sun. There was nothing left of yesterday’s storm that swept the “golden squadron” apart from memories and a “dead swell” that rocked the galleon in a measured manner. The sea has not calmed down after the recent violence.

Captain Enrique Mendoza looked worried. Galleon lost the squadron and could only rely on their own strength. Gold and silver in his holds were desirable prey for both the British, with whom Spain was at war, and for pirates who fought with everyone. Rumors about sending a "golden squadron" probably already scattered across all the neighboring taverns.
')

On the one hand, so far everything was not so bad. The ship survived the storm without any special damage. Cargo is not injured. The team maintains discipline and calm, at least at first glance. But in other way…

- Ship on the starboard side! - shouted from Mars forward.

The captain brought a telescope to his eye. It seems that the observer was not mistaken. In fact, the ship. Far away, but approaching. Judging by the course, it goes against the point, as if it wants to meet and knows exactly where to go.

Question: who is it? It would be nice too Spaniard. Together it will be easier.

The unwelcome guest seemed to have read the thought: he yawned a little, moving closer to the wind, and the flag crawled upwardly on the canopy, while the indistinguishable.

Mendoza, hiding impatience, watched him through a telescope. Now…

Another gust of wind unfolded the cloth: a skull with bones on a black background.

Pirates!

This thought was immediately duplicated by a forward scream from the martial pad. The captain turned to the boatswain and ordered to prepare for battle.

Chances of success were. Pirate is only one, the cannons on his two-masted brig are definitely smaller. Now he is somewhere a mile and a half and quickly goes to a rapprochement, it seems, hopes for boarding. Well, it makes sense: in the artillery duel the galleon is stronger.

The captain put on a helmet, filed by his adjutant. The boarding team took its place, preparing to repel the assault. Somewhere below, on the gun deck, the gunners inflate the wicks and wait for orders. Sooner, early ... Here comes another pair of cables, you can scare.

The brigade under the pirate flag was approaching, cutting through the waves. It is about to cross the invisible line ... now!

There was a double shot of the nasal cannons of the galleon - and then the helmsman slightly changed course, turning to the pirate with the whole board. The captain carefully watched the shot. The nucleus went right on target: the gunner knows his business! The sense from them, however, is not enough at such a distance, however ... Wait a minute! What's happening?!

Simultaneously with the shot, the brig seemed to jump forward, as if his wings had grown. One of the nuclei went by, the second was to comb through the spars - Mendoza was already prepared to watch the chips flying in all directions, but it was not there! The kernel flew right through, not hooking anything. Yes, there is no such thing!

Pirate was approaching with impossible speed. The Spaniard had not yet had time to turn around to him with the remaining cannons, when a muffled volley was heard and smoky streaks from the brig to the galleon.

Everyone who was on the bridge shook their heads in the shoulders, preparing for the worst. But the gunners in the pirate brig, it seems, were not the best: strange shells with dull pops burst somewhere above, throwing fragments into the sea.

The deck was clouded with an unpleasantly smelling thick fog that made my head spin. "Sorcery ?!" - flashed a thought from the captain, but he did not have time to finish it, falling to the deck with a bag.

* * *

At first there was darkness, silence and thoughtlessness. Then there were sounds: first deaf, as if through cotton wool, then - more distinct. Captain Mendoza prudently did not open his eyes, preferring to first assess the situation.

A slight pitching is felt, which means that he is on the ship. The noise of the sea is muffled, there is no wind, which means that it happens indoors. I can't hear the voices around, but the skin creaks from time to time. It seems that someone is sitting nearby and is silent. Well, if they wanted to kill him, they would have done it long ago. Count on a ransom?

Mendoza stirred and moaned, indicating that he had regained consciousness. Then he opened his eyes.

He was lying on the couch in the mess room. At the opposite end, opposite him, an extremely strange man was sitting and reading something.

His head was tied with a scarf, from under which protruded something resembling small pigtails. The mustache and beard looked quite ordinary, but in combination with painted eyes ...

Seeing that Mendoza was awake, the stranger put down the book, got up and introduced himself:

- Jacob Passer! - then he paused and added: - El capitano Jacob Passer!

- What? - sincerely surprised Mendoza.

The words were remotely familiar, but for some reason the meaning eluded them.

The stranger was embarrassed, muttered something like “Okay, Google” under his breath and froze for a while, listening to something. He finally spoke in Spanish, albeit with a strange accent:

- Good day! Let me introduce myself: Captain Jack Sparrow.

“Enrique Mendoza, at your service,” Mendoza answered hoarsely. - Who are you and why were we attacked?

The stranger thought for a moment and answered:

- We are pirates. Perhaps this will surprise you ...

Mendoza could not stand it and grinned. The pirate noticed this and hastily continued:

- No, no, I meant something else ... You, undoubtedly, have already come across pirates, but here is a very special case. You see, it will be hard for you to believe in it, but ...

* * *

- Incredible!

The story told by the pirate captain stunned Mendoza. It was absolutely impossible to believe in her. However, how else to explain, for example, an incredibly fast pirate ship? Is that witchcraft, but the Holy Inquisition is not very fond of when someone refers to the tricks of the devil.

“Nevertheless, it is so,” the pirate captain spread his hands and bowed. - We really came from the future and at any time we can return there.

- And when will this moment come? - curious Mendoza.

“Not before we get what we came for!” - the pirate pointedly looked at Mendoza.

- As I understand, you need our cargo? - the Spaniard waited for an affirmative nod and continued: - But don't you think that your ship is too small for such a cargo? I remember Drake almost drowned his Golden Fallow deer, overloading it with gold.

The pirate snorted thoughtfully. His gaze was absent for a moment and Mendoza hurried to build on his success.

- Besides, I, as the representative of the Spanish Crown, can not give the goods belonging to the king. My team…

“Your crew is locked in the hold,” the pirate interrupted. - None of them was hurt. Now, as for the cargo. Your cargo will remain with you and you will deliver it where you are going. We are pirates, not thieves!

- I.e?! - Mendoza was taken aback.

- Copying is not theft! - solemnly proclaimed pirate. - We will remove copies from the most unusual things, leave the originals to you, and take the copies with us.

The situation is rapidly taking on the features of a mixture of madness with the absurd. Although ... who knows what there are in the future, pirates?

“I see several obstacles in the way of your cunning plan,” Mendoza began with doubt in his voice. - First, we can not hang around here for several weeks.

“Oh, copies are made quickly,” the pirate assured. - We expect to finish with this before dark.

Mendoza decided not to be surprised. From the principle.

- Secondly, the material. Where do you get so much gold? In the middle of the sea ...

- There will be no problems with the material! - the pirate literally beamed with delight. - I will explain everything to you now and even show you, but let's get down to business, nevertheless. Time does not wait ...

“Well, if you guarantee the safety of the cargo,” it was a blatant impudence to put conditions to the pirate, but Mendoza could not resist.

- Of course!

- What is required of me?

Pirate smiled:

- Basically, cooperation.

* * *

Mendoza stood in the cabin of the pirate brig and looked at a large box made of impossibly white and smooth material.

“And this thing makes copies?”

“Exactly,” Captain Jack Sparrow patted the drawer with his hand. - Now see for yourself. Where, by the way, is the statue you promised?

- Carry already, have patience.

Outside, sinking shoes on the deck and two gloomy sailors squeezed through the narrow door, dragging a heavy Indian idol. Godless pagan gizmo, of course, but of pure gold.

Pirate captain opened the door, revealing the emptiness in the left half of the box:

- Here, put here!

The sailors, in a low voice scolding and constantly looking back at Mendoza, now at the door, behind which the armed pirates stood, shoved the idol into the box. Jack Sparrow groped some knob on the side wall and pressed it.

Under their feet something dull, threateningly boomed. The deck shook shallowly. The Spaniards quickly exchanged glances with each other that did not hide from Jack Sparrow.

“Do not be afraid,” said the pirate captain. - There is no danger.

- What is it? Mendoza asked, pointing to his feet.

Jack Sparrow thought, collecting his thoughts. Then he began uncertainly:

- You saw a thunderstorm? With thunder and lightning?

Mendoza nodded. The pirate continued more energetically:

- Lightning has tremendous power. She shreds giant trees, breaks stones ... We learned to catch lightning, put them in special vessels, and then release them from there, but not immediately, but a little bit. Now the power of lightning drives a copying device. And the buzz you hear is thunder, inextricably linked to lightning. Rather, a small part of the thunder, corresponding to a small part of the lightning.

Mendoza calmed down a bit, but still asked:

- A lightning can not escape completely?

Captain Jack Sparrow sighed and said:

- If everything is done correctly, then no. It's like a cool camera on your galleon. If the watch is attentive, the powder in it lies quietly. But it is necessary to get there the fire, as the force enclosed in the powder will be released all at once, that the ship will end in disrepair. The same here. However, in my memory, lightning has never burst free.

The explanation Mendoza satisfied.

In the meantime, the hum timbre has changed. Mendoza looked questioningly at the pirate. He explained:

- The device is finished ... uh-uh, take measurements from the statue. Well, as a tailor or shoemaker take the measure of the client. Now a new statue is being made to measure - exactly the same. Almost.

- What does “almost” mean? - asked Mendoza.

- Well ... outside the statue will be exactly the original. And inside - empty. It is easier to wear, and indeed.

Here the Spanish captain was visited by insight:

- So you are going to show it to the public? How overseas wonder?

- Exactly! - Jack Sparrow beamed. - We have enough gold, silver, too, and there are no such idols left. In your time they were all melted into bars.

The insane situation is rapidly gaining internal logic. Fear left Mendoza completely, replaced by curiosity. He understood the motives of the pirates - although what, to the devil, are they pirates ?! - and no longer feared. Well, they will take off their copies, bow out and take off. It is even clear why gold is promised to be left behind: why is it for them, when it is like this, you can create a gold statue by simply pressing the box? And, probably, not only a statue.

The buzz went quiet and a melodic bell rang from somewhere. Jack Sparrow went to the box and opened it.

Inside were two absolutely identical idols. Mendoza was waiting for this, but was still surprised. It all happened too fast, and the difference between the copy and the original is completely unnoticeable. Looks like two drops of water!

A couple of stalwart pirates entered, picked up a new idol and carried it away somewhere. Mendoza waved his hand imperatively and the sailors dragged back the original statue.

- Well, how? - asked Jack Sparrow.

“Impressive,” Mendoza agreed. - And you do not have, by chance, the second of the same box?

“Alas ...” the pirate spread his hands. - However, for you, he would still be useless. In addition to the box, we also need lightning in the vessels and special people to take care of the box and repair it in the event of a breakdown. Again, if you had it, the rumors immediately crawl around the city and eventually reach the Holy Inquisition. Further, I hope, no need to explain?

Mendoza sighed heavily. In the future, they still remember the Spanish Inquisition with its suddenness, fear, ruthless efficiency, and almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.

“Okay,” continued Captain Jack Sparrow. - Then our subordinates will cope without us, and let's drink wine with you. For the success of our hopeless business.

- I.e? - did not understand Mendoza.

“Ah,” the pirate waved his hand, “forget it.” This is a joke.

Mendoza nodded knowingly and they walked toward the door, behind which the sailors' shoes were dragging, dragging the next idol.

* * *

The sun was setting.

Mendoza stood on the deck and watched as the team released from the hold gathered on the shchanzah and saw off the pirate brig, slowly leaving the south-south-east. The mood of the sailors was elevated, some sneak sip from suspiciously identical bottles. At another time, Mendoza would give them a dressing, but the current situation was exceptional. Well, if we agreed with fellow pirates to copy a few bottles of wine, so be it.

Slipping boots on the deck, the navigator approached Mendoza. He opened his mouth to ask about something, but then a piece of an otleyfsky song flew from the brig:

... Because, because we are pirates!
Our sea, our sea dear home!
First we copy the frigates ...

The rest of the couplet drowned in the splashing of waves and the creaking of blocks.

The navigator cleared his throat.

- Senor captain! It is necessary to fill the logbook ...

Mendoza turned around.

- and?

The navigator confusedly asked:

- What to write? "Such numbers were intercepted by such coordinates by pirates"?

Captain Enrique Mendoza grunted skeptically and fixed his unblinking gaze on the navigator. Under this look, the navigator got nervous and tried to hide the logbook behind his back.

- Oh, Diego! Said Mendoza. “Do you know what the pirates look like and what they do?” Just imagine for a moment what would happen to us if it were really pirates?

The navigator looked down, sighed, and looked up at the captain:

- Well, who are they?

Mendoza smiled.

- Pay attention: from their actions no one was hurt. All our gold is left with us, they just made copies. And they did it with their own hands and from their own material. I would not be surprised if they will distribute the copies made to everyone for free. Who knows what they have in the future?

The interlocutors, without saying a word, looked after the pirate brig. He had already gone quite far, turning into an almost indistinguishable spot on the horizon. The captain continued:

- So how to name such people? Benefactors? Madmen? I do not know Diego. But I know one thing: they are not pirates.

A bright flash flashed on the horizon and the speck disappeared. Mendoza sighed and repeated:

- These are not pirates. Anyone but not pirates!