[ The parrot--it kind of looks like a bat--is squawking the same message all over town. ]

Can't you read the sign? "No pirates." Go to Lau's.

Theologica naturalis.

There are forces greater than all of us that we find mysterious.  Those people who are known as witches are thought to be drawn to this island and imprisoned here.  Perhaps a ship without them would be able to leave unimpeded, even without this silver sextant.  What does this tell us about the island, or about witches?  Are both cursed by God? 

It has been theorized that there are three ways to know the mind of the Divine.  The first is revelation, which is reserved for prophets.  The second, ecstasy, is the province of poets.  Third is the natural theology of Varro and Bacon -- by examining the world around us, the work of divine forces, we may draw conclusions about the intent of creation.

All of us were intended to come here, since some property of the place drew us against our own intentions.  But are we intended to stay here?  Or is there a task that was given to us to accomplish?

And if that task was given, for whom was it intended?  The witches themselves?  Or those who knowingly harbor them?

I am curious what others may think of this.

[First, this noise.  Then, the sound of doors slamming open.]

What? This isn't right.

[This noise.]

That's really not possible.  Same island.  Same life signs.  No forcefield, although... there's something...odd... but it's not anything like two thousand and twelve.  It says... seventeen-oh-four?

Is that a pirate ship in the habor?

[He sounds indignant, even outraged.  In the background, someone is saying "Oh Doctor Doctor can we pleeeeeease"]

All right, all right.  Two hours, mind you!  Just a quick look about, no interfering with anything.  Stay in pairs -- yes, Jack, you too.  Stay safe.  And we'll meet back here in two hours.


...Is it just me, or is that parrot giving us a funny look?

Yes, you.  Hello there.  Polly want a --

All right, well. As you may have come to  the conclusion of by now

[Though considering his Captain and Crewmates, possibly not]

My excursion to the HMS Norman Conquest did not go quite as according to plan as I had hoped.

I may be a bit delayed in getting back to the ship. According to the oh so accommodating commodore, delayed indefinitely.

Accommodating Commodore. Now there is an interesting pair of words.

Well I say, down with the ship and blast them to timbers, mateys. Let's show them who

[At "who" the parrot cocks it's head at the listener and flutters off to the next unsuspecting recipient, as if it thinks maybe that was the wrong person.]

I've had news of the Sextant, if you're still up for a treasure hunt. Meet me on the deck.