The Dauntless drifted, engines idling. Champ paced them, gliding closer than before—close enough that Spyder could see the ancient scars in her scales and the depth in her shining eyes.
Vanessa, hand on the rail, gasped. It wasn’t language, but she felt the message: Watch. Trust. Don’t fear.
Champ’s massive head dipped, and she moved off the portside, circling once, then twice, in a pattern. The water behind her shimmered, its surface melting to a mirror. A ring formed, spreading like ripples from a bell, but the center didn’t reflect Dauntless or the sky.
Instead, Vanessa saw—no—felt before she saw: a cold mist, hills brighter green, a castle shadowed on a far shore.
There in the water, Vanessa said, “Loch Ness.”
Champ paused at the ring’s edge, looking back—inviting.
Spyder (shaky): “She’s… showing us. It’s a door.”
Wayne, jaw slack: “Portal. That’s a portal. To… Scotland?”
Athena, hushed: “Hydrodynamics impossible. Quantum mechanics: irrelevant. Recommend all hands secure themselves… and their disbelief.”
Then a voice—not words, but feeling—echoed in Vanessa’s mind:
I am Nessie. Lake, loch, no difference. This world is older and wider than charts or names. My kin travel. My story crosses water, not time. You are welcome to follow—if you dare.
Spyder grinned at the helm: “Well, crew, what’s the Prime Directive on chasing legends?”
Wayne: “Punch it. Or, you know, trim the hydrofoils to ‘just barely not crazy.’”
Athena, gleeful: “Course set for unexplained phenomenon. All systems ready. Maximum weirdness, Captain.”
Spyder, intrigued, rigs a “portal viewer” using Dauntless cameras, Athena’s pattern recognition, and the resonance of the artifact.
It’s real-tech and myth-tech jammed together: hydrophones, constellation matching, artifact hum, spectral overlays. Preposterous. Glorious.
Athena, excited: “Captain, portal formation detected. Calibrating viewer. Artifact response: above baseline. Activating overlay. Please hold all questions until the existential crisis concludes.”
On screen, the viewer flickers, overlaying constellations from the other side. Terrain appears ghosted on the lake surface.
Projected Destination: Loch Ness: Confirmed. Secondary possibilities: [scroll of other plausible worlds or lakes] Confidence: 97% (allowing for cosmic mischief)
Wayne, impressed: “She’s not just opening a door—she’s showing us the neighborhood.”
Vanessa (hands on artifact): “She’s making sure we don’t get lost. Or take the wrong step.”
Spyder: “Athena, log the path and record the sky. We’re not just passengers—we’re explorers.”
Most navigators care where they are. On the Dauntless, the real question is: how many multiverses can you cross before breakfast?
The portal shimmers at the waterline—silvery, beautiful, weird.
Spyder, cautious: “Let’s see what we’re up against. FRED, you’re up. Tether tight. Athena, monitor.”
Wayne checks his knots twice: “Don’t worry. Nothing’s coming back unless it’s still a robot and not a newt.”
Athena: “Initiating FRED’s Portal Protocol. Tether nominal. Caution: unexplained phenomena likely.”
Vanessa whispers as she films: “Here goes nothing—or possibly Scotland.”
FRED, buoyed and blinking, disappears through the portal with a cheery beep. For a heartbeat, stillness.
Then—FRED's tether jerks. The Dauntless is pulled forward like a hooked fish.
Coffee flies. Boots skid.
Athena: blaring overlays like “TETHER CRITICAL” and “WHOOPSIE.”
The portal envelops them—no splash, no slam. Just a shimmer. They open their eyes and the world is…
Green hills. Chilly air. A castle on the horizon. Sheep stare back.
Wayne, blinking: “Where the hell are we?”
Athena, smug: “Analyzing constellations and local fauna… Welcome to Scotland, crew. Dinghy test: fully integrated. Want to try again?”
Spyder: “Next time, longer tether.”
Vanessa: “Remind me never to send the robot first.”
On the Dauntless, the scientific method means tie a knot, push a button, and pray nothing eats the boat. Or the sheep.
Tested the portal. FRED vanished. Tether yanked. Dauntless followed. No splash, no drama—just wild acceleration and mild existential dread. Next moment: Scotland. Landscape: green hills. Coffee: missing. Sheep: concerned. Conclusion: Be careful what you tie to your home.
Note to self: always test portals with a detachable tether. FRED survived. Boat survived. My dignity did not. Sheep now believe we’re time travelers. Athena has logged this as the “First successful robo-tow to another continent.”
Scotland is real, holy crap. There’s a castle, the air smells like history, and Spyder wants to try haggis. Next time we send the robot? Unplug him first.
Portal engagement: full ship transit. FRED designated “universal key.” Crew surprise level: 99%. “Welcome to Scotland” playlist now active. Request: sheep-to-Klingon translation module available upon request.
Humans require further study. Request upgrade: sense of humor module.