August 24th, 79 1: 00 PM

    My father Publius Phiander is taking me to the shops today. I am planning to visit the necklace store and the bookstore and buy The Odyssey by Homer. I am readying my pouch of sestercii and donning my stola.
    My father is calling me. He says it is time to go. I climb down the stairs and calmly walk past the kitchen to the door, where my father is waiting. He says, "Let's go, before the book you're looking for is sold out. You said you wanted one of Homer's classics?"
   "Yes, father. However, pray to Zeus that we have clear skies with no rain—remember the time it got up to our knees?" I replied.
    With that, we set off to the market. When we arrive, I step into Liberi Cornelii, the bookstore, and look around for The Odyssey. I spot it near the counter on a pedestal at 50% off! When I have paid for it, I stroll out of the bookstore and walk over to the necklace shop with my father.
    When we are halfway there, I hear a booming thunder and feel a hot blast of air burn my face. At the same time, I hear screaming from the jewelry shop and spin around. To the north. To Vesuvius.
    When I look at the mountain, I see no longer the peaceful giant which lay slumbering near Pompeii for so long, but the raging beast that I have long known will come, be it sooner or later, spitting sulfurous columns of steam out of its mighty crater and raining down still-flaming particles of lava.
    I rush with my father to an abandoned building between the bookstore and the food-market with a sign saying Iteris Opera—Travel Agency in English—on it to take refuge in. No sooner do I enter than I feel myself being lifted into the air by a strange force and see the outline of Pompeii grow dim and blurry. A blue vortex then started to obscure my surroundings as I am lifting off the ground.
    After this it appears that I may have fallen unconscious for a second, and then woken up in unfamiliar surroundings.
   

   January 16th, 1832 1:15 PM

    I woke up in unfamiliar surroundings (I know I said the same thing twice). From the washing of the waves against the crude wooden wall and shelves, it seemed like I was aboard a trireme, but that was not the case, for lying next to me were a strange l-shaped object with a hole in it and a case of little half-inch cylinders.
    All of a sudden, I heard the creaking of a door and see light shining on the wall. I whirled to face the door, and found myself face to face with a boy of about eight, with an inquisitive look and a reckless demeanor. "Who the heck are you? You don't seem to recognize the ammo-case or the gun, so you can't be a stowaway. Maybe you came in through the Stofer interface," he said.
   "Who the heck are you, and what the heck is the Stofer Interface?!? Is it the weird thing that sucked me here from the streets of Pompeii during the eruption?" I replied, equally puzzled.
    "Pompeii? The Roman city buried by Vesuvius in 79 A. D.? Wow. That explains a lot, but I still don't know your name. Anyhow, I'm Bart, aboard the ship H.M.S. Beagle in 1832. You'd best talk to Captain FitzRoy about what will be done with you. He's that way, to the aft end," he said, then gestured to a cabin down from this one and left.
    Before I ventured to the captain's cabin, I took stock of my surroundings. I immediately noticed the cone-shaped volcano on a nearby island, giving off smoke and showing bits of flame around the edges of the crater. I resolved to ask the captain the name of the volcano later. I then looked around at the protected cove the Beagle was resting in. All I noticed of importance was a seemingly innocuous ship trying to get the attention of the Beagle by burning wood in its gally. The captain strode out of his cabin and started to signal to move closer to the other ship.
    I remembered the Pompeian slavers in hidden coves and rushed up to him. "Sir, don't do it! I know I'm interrupting, but in my hometown of Pompeii, slavers used a trick like this to gather innocent citizens," I pleaded.
   "Turn aside! All sails to starboard! Catch the wind east! The other ship's a pirate, or worse! Anyway, who are you? I haven't seen you on the ship before—whoa!" the captain yelled, then gasped as the ship shook violently under the shock of a cannonball from the pirate.
   I stepped into a nearby cabin and sat down. From this post of relative safety, I watched a crew member shout something over at the pirate ship. I heard the crack of a pistol firing, and the crewmember swished something out of his pocket, creating a fiery flash in midair. He started yelling again, this time in English: "Scum! You couldn't hit the back of a ship! We'll give you Agent X, my video games (what in the world?), and a watch! All you need to give us is a plank for Valicia, and let us go unharmed!"
    I heard some more indiscernible yelling from the pirates, and then one of the pirates, with an empty eye socket and a nasty arm scar, produced a plank. He laid it across the gap between the ships, and then the rather reckless crewmember grabbed a bag of items and another crewmember and handed them to the pirate. I heard some more yelling from both parties, and then the pirate ship wheeled out to sea.
    I can't see why a crewmember would risk his life when he could simply have sailed away from the pirates. Maybe he's an adventure-seeker, though I prefer to avoid the storm, not ride it until its end.