Chesington! In piratical circles this sort of thing was social death. For a moment the Pirate Captain thought about trying to pretend that he and the crew were some sort of pirate-a-gram, sent by one of Ahab’s whaler mates. But whalers were a notoriously humourless lot, and it didn’t seem likely they would have instigated such a thing. ‘How incredibly embarrassing,’ stuttered the Captain, grinning a weak grin. ‘What are the odds? I mean, all the traffic cluttering up the shipping lanes nowadays, and I should run into you …’ The Pirate Captain trailed off. Ahab still hadn’t said anything, but he seemed ready to explode. An angry-looking nerve had started to twitch in the corner of his eye. The Pirate Captain looked at his shoes. ‘Sorry about running through, erm …’ ‘Mister Starbuck,’ said Ahab icily. ‘Yes. Sorry about running Mister Starbuck through. Do you think he’ll be okay?’ ‘You’ve cleaved him clean in two.’ ‘I sort of have, haven’t I? I bet I couldn’t manage that again if I tried a thousand times!
