The Edge

His guests had enjoyed an extremely pleasant meal done in the grand style. With port eschewed, coffee, brandy and cigars were on offer at its end. A silent and efficient staff whisked away the dinner debris covering the long Chippendale table. Light conversation interspersed between delicious samplings of rich dark coffee and golden brandy followed. Playing the affable host, Harry suggested his guests retire to the lounge. Carrying their palm-warmed brandies, George and Charles made their way with smiles and cigars. Harry’s lounge gave a splendid view of the lake from the expanse of its south-facing window. The sun had long since set. It was a cloudless night. The stars shone equally bright in the sky and the lake. Harry served a top-up to their brandies. Then they all sat down in their ample armchairs with a sigh of satisfaction and utter contentment.

Harry smiled warmly at his two best friends, and took an appreciative sip from his glass before announcing, “I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you all here this evening?”

George regarded his friend with anticipation. “I thought the meal reason enough, Harry, but I guess not. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s strange you should use that turn of phrase, George, for that is indeed the purpose of our little get together; the Mind!” Harry flourished a remote control, a heft of solid metal with substantial buttons, one of which he pressed.

The wall to their left rolled back to reveal a glistening array of controls, dials and monitors stretching for the full height and entire width of the room.

Charles was greatly impressed. “So this is the computer you’re always going on about! You’re Immaculate Contraption as you like to call it. It’s enormous!”

“State-of-the-art no less, capable of almost anything.” replied Harry, proudly. “I asked it some months ago if it were possible to communicate with extraterrestrial intelligence by mind alone. It said yes, and did not fail me.”

George became serious. “You must be joking, Harry!”

Harry stood up, walked over to a rosewood cabinet, opened it, took out what appeared to be three sets of headphones then handed one to each of them. “I’m serious. It can be done. How do I know? Why because I’ve done it! There’s more to cyber space than the circuits of a quantum computer apparently.” He brandished his headphones in resplendent swagger.

As they all sat with one in their laps, Harry continued, “Full communication is impossible. It’s a one-way affair. Through these.” He flourished his headphones as if they were a set of gold medals he’d won at the Olympics. “Also we can only receive the thoughts and perceptions of an alien intelligence with a life form almost identical to our own.”

Bemused, George was about to speak, but when the gradual appearance of what could have been a very large satellite dish loomed up from below the level of the grand window, he was distracted. He watched in silence as it locked onto some far corner of the sky.

Only then did he let his disbelief gush out. “There can’t too many aliens out there very much like us; if any. I’d say the chances of that a truly astronomical! Impossible even! I think your computer’s tricking you. It may have a sense of humour if it’s as sophisticated as you say.” He smiled wickedly as a cat would, if it could.

Harry was not amused. “I hadn’t thought of that. God, I hope not! That equipment out there cost me a small fortune.” He nodded at the dish. “Every piece of it was fabricated in accordance with the blueprints drawn up by my Immaculate Contraption. It’s more than smart enough to trick me. I’ll admit that. With an IQ of 6000 it’s more than up to the job. Anything that smart couldn’t possibly have a sense of humour, could it? Yet perhaps it has. Thanks for placing that doubt in my mind, George.”

George mouthed the words just joking and saluted Harry with his glass.

Harry gave George a look, and took a meaningful gulp of brandy before he continued.

“In a galaxy not too far away, as galactic distances go, there’s a lonely star with a Neptune-sized planet covered mostly by ocean. Its density is low enough to have an Earth-equivalent surface gravity. It has beings not unlike us too. Apart from their blue-tinted skin, purple hair and one-nostril noses, they’re as human as you or I.”

Charles suppressed a laugh. “They don’t sound all that human to me.”

Harry scolded, “Come, come Charles, in all essentials they are. They have an eighteenth century civilisation, but to live on a world with a surface that’s ninety-five percent ocean; they’re not very adventurous sailors.”

George was intrigued. “Now how do you know all this, Harry?”

“I’ve sat in the mind of a young man of that world. Also my computer’s done a complete analysis of the planet from the information put out on the internet by IASA. It’s from the data they’ve received by way of their telescopic array near Pluto. So I’m quite well acquainted with this new world. It’s fascinating. I wanted to share it with you. According to my Immaculate Contraption, it’s only one of many spread throughout the cosmos containing intelligent life.”

George was aghast. “What! The universe is teeming with intelligent life?”

Harry was supremely smug: “Apparently so.”

Charles downed the rest of his brandy, and with a tone of authority declared, “You must share this with the world, Harry, not just us.”

Harry kept smiling. “I intend to. Oh yes, I intend to, but for now, can’t we enjoy it on our own? Put on your headphones. The young man is an Ensign on a sailing ship; a galleon would you believe! It’s about to embark upon a great adventure. You see this planet’s sun is located at the very edge of its galaxy. There are few stars in the planet’s sky. It has no moons, an unstable magnetic field and the horizon is very distant. All this makes it extremely foolhardy for any of them to get out of sight of land. Added to that, the shallow curvature of the planet’s surface makes it all the more credible for these beings to think their world is flat.”

George and Charles by then had caught Harry’s enthusiasm. They quickly donned their headphones. The computer engaged its device. Once immersed, their bodies dissolving from their senses and they became as one with a being from a distant world.



“The world is flat! Anyone who disagrees can leave my ship!” Captain Talland glared at the slim figure of Ensign Purviso, a scarecrow of a young man, whose bones made jutting angles under his tight blue tunic.

Completely unaware that his mind was invaded by beings from another galaxy, Purviso swallowed hard, which sent his Adam’s apple into a gymnastic leap. “Sorry Captain, I intend no disrespect. I merely wish to point out that there could be an alternative reality in which the Earth is spherical. That does not mean it is in this reality.” Keeping his eyes fixed on a point six inches above his Captain's head, he dared to continue. “Madricade in his dissertation on...”

“Silence!" If you dare to contradict me, you should at least have the courage of your convictions!” Talland turned his broad back on Purviso, and gazed longingly at the distant horizon, sharp and glistening, through his stern port window. “If you intend to have the honour of serving on his majesty's sailing ship, “Farsail”, I will hear no more of it. Is that understood, Ensign?”

“Perfectly Captain…”

“Very well, you’re dismissed,” The Captain’s face, ragged as a stormy sea, managed to smooth into a kinder expression. “Return to your duties then, Ensign.”

Purviso closed the cabin door gently behind him, yet lingered to listen. First Officer Cringle remained with the Captain and had been silent throughout Purviso’s dressing down.

First Officer Cringle spoke for the first time, “Quite the intellectual, sir, is our young Purviso - if a little outspoken.”

“Not flat indeed! I'll tolerate no nonsense on my ship. Is she ready for the morning tide? I'll not miss an hour of this fine weather.”

Cringle replied with intolerable smugness and superiority, “That she is, sir. The last of our supplies are stowed away, the repairs to the top mizzen spar completed. She stands ready, sir.”

With a grudging rumble of satisfaction, the Captain responded, ‘Very well. Cast off and have her brought before the wind. I’ll come up directly when we break harbour.”

“Very good, sir” Cringle turned to leave, but was stopped at the door by his Captain's voice.

Cringle’s superior attitude always put Talland in a foul mood. Needing an outlet, it called for blood. Just berating the young Ensign had not helped. He snapped at Cringle. “Put Purviso on lookout. A day in the crow's nest will blow the nonsense out of him. A round Earth is it? I’ll give him a round Earth! He’d better be up there when I come up on deck, otherwise he'll spend the night there as well! Am I making myself perfectly clear, Mister Cringle?”

“As crystal on a frosty night, sir.”

Purviso chanced a glance through a crack in the door, distraught at the thought of a day in the crow’s nest, yet eager to see if Cringle was in line for a dressing down too.

The Captain looked Cringle straight in the eye. His skin, wrinkled and worn as a derelict's canvas, stretched grudgingly to accommodate a humourless smile. “I trust you’re not mocking me, Mister? I’ll not tolerate insubordination, especially from my First Officer.
“Make no mistake, this is my first command and if I sink... you’ll sink with me. It’s in your best interest therefore, to uphold any order I give and lend me your full-hearted support. I will not countenance anything less.”

Cringle shrugged, as if he regarded Talland’s anger as an irritation of consequence. “Purviso’s out of order, sir. A spell in the crow's nest will do him good. I’m in wholehearted agreement. Am I excused now, sir?’

“You are, but remember this.” Captain Talland puffed his chest. “I know we cannot stand each other but let us put our personal feelings aside. We must not forget our mission! To prove, once and for all, that the Earth is flat. We must bear whatever hardship this endeavour places upon us. The King would expect no less, and our duty demands it.”

“With you in command success is assured. I’m as sure of that as the Earth is flat; flat as a pancake, sir.” Cringle bowed only slightly, which left the Talland wondering if he were really sincere.

“…About your business then, Mister Cringle. Oh, you can have the Flat Earth Society brought in to see me now. Show them due respect. They are, after all, funding this mission. And I’ll say this only once, Cringle. If the Admiralty consider that his Majesty’s Navy is gainfully employed by indulging them, then who are we to question?”

“I always show respect sir, to anyone, whether they deserve it or not. Although, I must say they do talk with a most peculiar accent.” Pringle’s mischievous smile bordered on insolence: “As it happens, they’re up on deck waiting to see you, sir.”

“They’re foreigner's Mister Cringle, and as such, our language is not their mother tongue. An odd accent is, therefore, to be expected, not mocked. Even so, they’re more comprehensible than most of the scum, who crew my ship. Now show them down.”

Without another word, Cringle placed his tri-cornered hat precisely on his purple hair and left.

Purviso fled to the deck where he stood regaining his breath, while Cringle appeared and addressed the foreigners, “The Captain is ready to see you now. Please follow me, gentlemen.” The dejected Purviso caught his eye. “Do you know where Pipio is? The Captain needs his steward.”

Purviso stood to attention. “No not really, sir - but I’ll find him?”

With raised eyebrows and a moment’s indecision, Cringle replied, “No, you will do for now. Follow us.”

The party entered the Captain’s cabin. Cringle gave Talland one last smile before he left, but not before saying, “Brought Purviso back down to serve you, sir. Pipio’s missing. The crow’s nest can wait, I think.”

Talland boiled with anger. He threw Purviso a look, which sent him scuttling into a corner. Then clearing his throat Talland attempted a charming smile. However, it was with a grimace he asked, “I trust your quarters are comfortable, gentlemen? Please be seated.”

The eldest, who was tall, thin and very refined replied, “Comfort is not our concern. However, our quarters are more than adequate, Captain.” He gave a slight bow and sat. The rest of his party followed suite.

“Can I offer you some sherry?’ Talland threw another visual dagger at Purviso, who immediately placed his hand on the neck of the nearest ship's decanter.

“Thank you no. Forgive us, but we restrict our drinking to the dinner table.”

Talland sat down, and with both arms outstretched, he placed his hands, palms down, on his desk. The men sitting opposite him were very tall, so he sat as high as he could. It did not help. “It’s regrettable that we have not spoken since we met at the Admiralty; so little time to spare since then. Rather a rush with so much to do, I do beg your forgiveness.”

The eldest lent forward with both hands on the silver top of an impressive sword stick. This was placed between his knees and two feet below his chin. His upper hand made a chopping motion, as if in dismissal, when he spoke, “No need for apologies, Captain. We see the fruits of your labours. We are very impressed. Your Admiralty made a wise choice in choosing you to lead this mission.” A mild smile hovered momentarily on his thin lips. “We need only go over a few details. My country has chosen my young colleagues here to go to the Edge. It is a singular honour for them. We must, of course, take every precaution to ensure their safety. The exercise would be pointless if they didn't come back, yes?”

“Indeed Herr Gruber, are they both going? I thought only one...”

“It’s decided Hans should go first. Lars will follow, should Hans fail. That is a possibility. We may not have considered every eventuality. We may learn from failure in the first attempt. Our calculations show that the special anchors we’ve supplied, and installed should enable your ship to resist the current up to a distance of one hundred metres from the Edge. This should allow Hans a secure base from which to reel out. Should he fire his flare gun at any time, your crew should reel him back as quickly as possible. Therefore, man your capstan with your very best men. All being well, that will also signal his success and desire to return.”

Talland sniffed loudly. “As to the men, I’ll choose them personally. No need to fear on that score.” He relaxed a little, and drew his hands up into a fist to support his chin. “Wouldn't a small boat do? Surely that’s a safer option than a man alone in the water?”

“We considered that, of course, but a boat would place a greater drag on your ship, requiring it to anchor three hundred metres from the Edge and a much longer line. This would increase the risk for all concerned.”

Hans stood up, large and easy moving, his great strength the equal of any gorilla, it seemed. He wore something not unlike a diver's suit, lighter perhaps and more pliable. His deep voice vibrated the loose timbers in the cabin. “These are the special clothes and boots I’ll wear for the encounter and this… this is my harness.” He flung the device before, Talland. It landed with a clatter on his desk. “Although my clothes and boots are totally waterproof, they are very heavy, but the reaction of the tension in the line and the strong flow of the current will keep me afloat. It is important this tension is maintained. This you understand, yes?”

With pursed lips and a proud chin, Talland replied, “Perfectly, Herr Hans. You can count on it.”

“Good, if you understand, then that is all I have to say.” Hans sat down, and retrieved his harness. It had marked Talland’s desk, but he said nothing. Wiser fools than he would have, but then, they would have had more courage.


It was a fine breeze. Their ship rushed before it on a carpet of fresh spray. Its taut spread of canvas creaked, and groaned pleasantly in the sunlight. Purviso gazed down at the busy deck as he swayed in the heights. Up there, the wind was chill, which burned his ears, and stung his eyes to tears.

His hands were numb already, his legs unsteady. He blinked forcibly to focus on the horizon, the very edge of the Earth, a line, below which, thus far, all ships had vanished never to return. He did not fear it. He knew there was no edge. He knew it was the curve of the Earth falling away. However, there must be something out there to fear, for no ship had ever returned. He grasped the mast and braced himself. What strange wonders shall I see? What unknown dangers shall I face?

Purviso looked back at his homeland. Framed by the upper rigging, it was sweetly familiar. There the soft green hills were veiled by the blue distance, the small white buildings ever smaller and more precious. Already, they were far from the usual coastal routes; routes, by which, the merchant ships throughout the centuries had safely plied their trade. More daring than the riverboat men, their crews were regarded as courageous pioneers. This mission, on the other hand, was thought by all clear thinking men to be foolhardy in the extreme.

So many ships had been lost in trying to reach the very edge of the world that sending another was beyond comprehension! It was no better than trying to reach the end of a rainbow, some had said. This was true but not for the reason they thought. While reflecting on this, Purviso smiled, for this time they would return. With men of logic such as Cringle and him onboard, how could they fail?

The ship's special anchors were unnecessary. She would not go over an edge or fall foul of the strong currents formed by an imagined cataract, where the ocean poured itself into oblivion, for they did not exist. There would be only more ocean and perhaps other lands beyond. That was why he came, for the chance to explore new lands! He was thrilled by the possibility, and failing that, at the very least, as Cringle thought, they would reach landfall at the other side of their own island, proving the case for a round world.

So all day long he gazed at a horizon, which grew no nearer. Occasionally, he looked back at his homeland. It had grown smaller. Towards evening, he was unsure, he wished for better eyes, but it seemed that only the hills were in view. A commotion on the deck drew his attention. Panic was among the crew. They were gesticulating, and pointing homewards. Their shouts were incomprehensible. He was puzzled by their antics.

He descended slowly, unsteadily, apprehensively, until halfway down, when the shouting turned into raving and his concern turned to fear. Then he increased his speed of descent, as fast as he dared. Then faster, for he was spurred on by the need to understand what they were saying. Recklessly, hand-over-hand and foot-by-foot, he negotiated the swaying ratlines. He stopped at the sound of gunfire.

Peering backwards over his shoulder, he saw the crew attempting to storm the quarter deck. A squad of trusted marines and the ship's officers formed a line before, Captain Talland. As Purviso watched, they poured a volley of musket shot into the rest of the crew. A thick cloud of white smoke obscured his view until it was swept away by the wind. Many of the crew lay dead or wounded. The surviving mutineers gave up their assault. They were held at bay by Captain Talland training the ship’s small pivot cannon upon them while his men reloaded their muskets.

By then Purviso understood what Talland was saying. He continued down, with the Captain’s voice becoming clearer with each foot he descended. “Come to order or I’ll kill every last man of you! If our homeland has sunk beneath the waves, it is our duty to return, and search for any survivors. So come to your senses! Do your duty, and man your stations!” Talland brought a smouldering match close to the cannon. “I’ll not ask again!”

Purviso cried out, “I can see the land! I can still see the land!”

This outburst from Purviso distracted, Talland. The mutineers rushed the quarter deck, catching everyone unawares. During the ensuing slaughter, the foreigners appeared on deck to fight alongside Talland and Cringle. They accounted themselves well before succumbing to far greater numbers. Hans, the last to stand, could only be brought down by musket fire.

When Purviso saw him fall, the mad crew picked up the rest of the dead men's muskets. He started to climb again, seeking safety in the rigging. If I can get high enough, and out of range, some of them might pursue me. Then they will see their homeland for themselves. This will turn them from madness and they will spare my life!

He reached the crow's nest, just as the ratlines quivered with another's weight. He looked down to see two crewmen, their eyes bright and fierce, approaching rapidly, consummate sailors moving at three times the speed he had ascended.

Let them come. I’ll show them their fears are groundless. He looked toward the land then let out a cry of dismay. The ship had sailed beyond its line of sight. All he saw was a bare horizon, a rim to a featureless sea, which had become the whole world. With no escape and no hope, the terror of it fell upon him, yet a fate far more imminent than madness was coming up fast.

The sailors neared, their heavy breathing giving voice to their determination and resolve. Purviso knew then, that there was indeed an edge to the Earth. It was placed there by man, formed by his ignorance and fear. They had travelled beyond that edge, beyond reason into madness. Death came swiftly to Purviso, when the first of the ascending crewmen thrust a dagger into his heart.

With a break that was a sudden as it was disorienting, Charles, George and Harry were back in their bodies clutching at their chests, with faces paler than the moonlight, which, by then, had spilled into Harry’s lounge.

George was the first to speak, “If your computer is tricking you, Harry - it has one mean sense of humour! How about another brandy? I could really use one!”

Shaking, Harry stood up, and, without a single word, obliged them all.