Back to Part 034 Notes – Forward to Part 036 Notes

There’s a couple of things I really like about this section. The first is Xiphos calling Cait about about getting put at the kids table every time there’s a big decision being made. She’s right: she is an officer on the Rose, even if most of them are, and she deserves to be included in these decisions. This sort of thing doesn’t come easy for Xiphos, but I know she’s glad she did it.

Xiphos got stronger all of a sudden. She’s suddenly very determined, which I think is a good thing for her. She needs to learn she can do it, that she can actually make a case for something. And I think Cait is a little impressed, too, but not surprised. She’s been grooming Xiphos for at least a First Mate position, if not Captain, since the Ugliness.

The other is seeing Cait flustered about something. To be honest, I’ve been trying to figure out how to break her, because breaking characters is interesting. I almost broke Xiphos, but reality wouldn’t allow for it. We’ll talk more about how that would have happened at the end of this Act. I know what it would take to break Cait, and that’s something I’ll leave for another notes section, if we ever get to it. (Hint: It’s not easy).

So what’s in the cargo bay? Not tellin’. But I promise it’s something, and I’m not just messing with you.

As always, any questions or comments you have are totally welcome.

[g]

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Back to Part 034 Notes – Forward to Part 036 Notes

Back to Part 028 – Forward to Part 030

The Kelonio met up with the Rose a day later, both the boats now tracking the attackers’ boat. Cait and Billy transferred to the Kelonio to plan with Galle how they would precede.

Galle had assembled a good collection of his crew on the bridge, including many of his performers. They gathered around the captain’s station, their mob easily fitting into the expansive compartment. And it was loud, louder than the Rose’s bridge ever got. But then again, Cait had never tried to cram fifty people on to the Rose’s bridge. Celine, his wife, had joined as well. She was never one to socialize with family, but then again, neither was Cait. Cait stood by Celine, arms folded over her chest, focused on nothing in particular.

Galle cleared his throat, and the group of performers and crew fell silent. “It looks as if we’ll catch up to the attackers in less than a day. I would like all of you who choose to board the ship to be prepared.” Galle flicked his eyes over everyone in the room, and then continued. “Yes, we are after a map, and yes, we would like to get that map back, but more importantly, we are after the people that killed Nina. We can do without the map if we must, but taking the Travelers alive is important.”

Cait handed out copies of the Travelers’ papers. The crew took a moment survey pictures.

“Suppose,” a cast member said, “we are unable to take them alive.”

“We do what we can,” Galle said. “Alive would be preferred, but if you must…”

Cait cleared her throat. Galle closed his eyes. “As Molyneux,” he said, forcing each word, “we would prefer to seek justice over revenge.”

Mostly satisfied, Cait nodded.

“How will we attack the boat?” Another cast member asked. He, like many of the others, spoke with a heavy accent, perhaps from the meadowlands state of Préterre, in the 21 Kingdoms.

“I suppose we’ll ram it,” Galle shifted his gaze to Billy. “Mister McGuire may be able to speak better about this subject than I.”

Billy nodded and stood up a little straighter. “We know nothing about the boat, so right now we’re assuming it’s larger than us. Right now, our plan is to fall behind, as if we’re just riding their wake to the next port, and then, when they are forced to surface to recharge, we strike. I’ve sent out a few requests on the Relay looking into the registration number we have, but I haven’t heard back from anyone yet. From there, we board.”

Billy turned to Galle. “One matter I have not discussed yet is who are our volunteers?”

A number of the crew and cast stepped forward, from simple hands, down to the jugglers and clowns. Billy folded his arms over his chest and looked over the volunteers.

“How many of you have firearms or hand weapon training?”

Only a few raised their hands. Billy gave a disappointed sound from the back of his throat. “I’d like the few who do have weapons training to meet with me when they are done. Those who do not, I’m not sure if we can use you.”

“Excuse me,” one of the cast members said. He stepped forward. He was small, lithe, as most of the other performers were, rabbit, covered with well-kept brown fur. He focused on Billy with cool composure, someone quite used to being out in the open. Like many of the others, he too carried a thick accent. “I do not think you have given us a proper chance to show you what we can do.”

Billy looked to Galle.

“Yes,” Galle said. “This is Paul-Henri, one of our jugglers.”

“And what can a juggler offer me?” Billy asked. Cait raised an eyebrow at him; you are coming off elitist. Billy narrowed his eyes; this is valid, and besides, what do you know about not being elitist?

Paul-Henri pulled three knives from his belt. He demonstrated his act, or a simplified version, juggling the knives with precision. He then caught them one at a time.

Billy started to speak, but Paul-Henri stopped him. “Where were you born, Monsieur McGuire?”

“Eight Seas Island, in what had been Beiland.”

Paul-Henri indicated a map on the wall of the bridge, a nautical map of the world. The cast and crew spread out a little, and when Paul-Henri had enough room, without hesitation, he threw the knife. It stuck, point first, perfectly straight, its tip right on the tiny dot of Eight Seas Island.

“You will find that we all have such talents,” Paul-Henri said. “The streets of Ste. Simone were not so friendly, you see.”

Many of the other performers nodded, mumbling their agreement.

Billy stared at the knife, sticking out of the map. “Okay,” he said.

“Nina was our soeur,” another cast member said. “We are invested in this as much as you.”

Galle nodded from behind his podium. “That’s quite touching. Thank you. Yes, I imagine you all can be helpful. But for now, we are very close. Let’s retire until we are ready for the attack.”

The crew left the bridge, Billy speaking to those who had been trained in combat. Celine and Cait stayed where they were while Galle collected his notes. They had not spoken at the funeral, not that Cait could blame her. Her failure of Galle’s trust was also a failure of Celine’s. Finally, after a tense, silent moment, Celine turned to Cait.

“Captain, would you care to join Galle and I for dinner?” She gave Cait a warm smile.

Cait’s ears relaxed. “It would be my pleasure,” she said. “Though I must ask, as always, Celine, that you call me Cait. We are family.”

“Yes, of course,” she said. She was tall, a strikingly beautiful human, and, Cait knew from their hours of conversation, that she was fiercely intelligent. Cait would have expected no lesser a choice from Galle. Celine started towards their suite when the Kelonio’s communications officer stopped them.

“There’s a message from the Rose, sir,” he said. Cait nodded, and followed him to the Relay terminal.

“This is Cait,” she said,

“Sir.” It was Toby.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Tre thinks we need to get under as soon as possible. He says there’s a hurricane ahead.”

Cait looked to the communications officer, who pointed at his weather radar. The hurricane loomed huge on the map. “Yes, of course. I will be here on the Kelonio with Billy. If worse comes to worse, we can carry out the attack, while you stay behind.”

There was a pause. “Tre looks mad,” Toby said.

“I can imagine. Is there anything else, Tobias?”

There was another pause, but Cait could hear why. She heard it on their end first, and then on the bridge of the Kelonio. “He’s pointing to something. They’re a bunch of these little dots, and they’re blinking- what?”

Cait cut in. “Emergency beacons,” Cait said. “It appears the hurricane is leaving the area. Tell Tre that you three are to assist at once, as best you can. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” And Tobias was off the Relay.

Cait turned to find Galle, and nearly ran into him as he stepped on to the bridge.

“The hurricane has made landfall,” Cait said levelly. “I have ordered the Rose to assist with triage and rescue. I suggest the Kelonio does the same.”

Galle looked over Cait’s head at the view outside the Kelonio’s tiny portal, his jaw set firm. “Not when we are this close.”

“Galle, I understand-”

“I’m sure you do,” he said, still watching over her head. “But Nina’s murders are under a day away.”

“Revenge, Galle, will not fix what has happened.”

Galle broke his gaze and dropped his eyes to Cait. He suddenly softened. “That is a question we can talk about over dinner.” He turned, putting his arm around Cait’s shoulders. “Come on, Celine’s waiting.”

—-

Cait found herself on a couch. She sat up, pushing away a blanket that had been laid over her. After a moment of collecting her bearings, she recognized Galle’s suite from when they had last been on board. She couldn’t tell how long she had been out.

Celine came into the room, her clothes different than before. It was just as Cait had feared: she had slept though the night.

“Good morning,” Celine said cheerfully. “It turns out a little wine and a little food is all it takes to knock you out for the evening.”

Cait frowned and scrubbed her face with her hands. “Well, that is embarrassing.”

Celine helped Cait up off the couch. “Luckily,” she said, “there’s no time for that. There’s a message from the Rose, and they say it’s urgent.”

Cait stretched. Celine led Cait up to the bridge, across the expanse of the Kelonio. A fresh communications officer waited for Cait, saluting when she stepped on to the bridge. Cait rolled her eyes; he must have been a recent hire. He handed the radio to Cait, and she clicked on the receiver. “This is Cait.”

“They took him.” It was Xiphos, her voice panicked, breathless.

“What?”

“They took Toby.”

[g]

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Back to Part 028 – Forward to Part 030

Back to Part 027 – Forward to Part 029

It was six bells into the First Watch when Toby came to the bridge. The way Xiphos looked back at him gave Toby the impression she had thought she was the only one awake aboard the Rose, though he didn’t seem to startle her. Xiphos sat with her lights turned down, the little light she had mingling with the light off her screens. She had pushed the screens away, clearing her view of the world outside the bubble. They were under again, the waves above too choppy to keep sailing on the surface.

Toby carried with him a tea pot and one of the last of his leftover baked goods, a simple cookie on a plate. He set down the tea pot, a cup and saucer, and the cookie , all on a little table next to Xiphos. She turned to him as he started away.

“Hey Cupcake,” she said. “You don’t have to leave.”

Toby paused at the portal, and then turned back around. He carefully took a seat in the empty navigator’s station. Xiphos poured herself some tea, and let the cup sit to cool on the table.

It had been a busy day. Cait had taken the information from the Traders and keyed in the route while Xiphos slept. They were following a boat with no name, just a registration number. They were still a few days off from the boat, and just a little further from Narwe Canal, the link between the South Ocean and the North Ocean. Just a few days, Cait had said, and they’d get to the people who took the map. If Xiphos could coax herself to sleep after tonight, it’d be a miracle.

Toby fidgeted next to her, watching out the bubble just as she did. Then, screwing up his courage, he asked, “What were they like?”

Xiphos cast Toby a sidelong glance. “What?”

“The New Archer Revolutionaries? You said you were friends with them.” He mumbled, his courage disappearing.

Xiphos thought a moment. “They were nice,” she said. “I always felt really lucky to get to be around them. I never had to ask to be around them, they just kind of… allowed me to be there. They always were around each other, and I always got to be there, always invited to dinner when Fink’d cook. You…”

She stopped, her face flush, not looking at Toby. She dropped her voice. “You remind be a lot of him, like how you cook and how quiet you are and stuff. He was pretty relaxed, though, and he loved plants. And he had a huge crush on Manni.” She stopped again. “We all had a huge crush on Manni…”

Toby took all of this in, turned now to watch Xiphos talk. Xiphos gave Toby another quick glance, and quickly dropped her eyes to her controls. “You ever had a girlfriend?” Xiphos asked.

“Yeah…” Toby said, fidgeting again. He dropped his eyes away, too.

“What?” Xiphos said, raising her voice. “You’re, like, eight.” She smiled at him all the same.

Toby shrugged. “It was last summer. It didn’t last too long, like a month I guess. Mostly we wandered around the woods and made out-” He stopped himself, but it was too late. Xiphos watched on, her turn to drink everything in.

“I kinda screwed it up,” Toby continued, his ears dropping.

Xiphos’s smiled faded. “That happens,” she said. She sat back in her chair. “Crash was my first… well, everything. She went after me. How weird is that? I ran away from that. Well, not that, but the whole thing, the revolutions.”

“I’m sorry,” Toby said.

“Yeah, but..” Xiphos said, letting her eyes follow wire conduits on the ceiling. “I mean, I wouldn’t've met Nina, or Cait. We wouldn’t be having this conversation. Also, they kind’ve disappeared, and I don’t know if I’d be included in-”

An alarm went off on Xiphos’s control panel. She swung her gaze around, sitting up, and then instantly paging her control screens through until they showed the long-range sonar. One little dot, a dozen miles back, was on a collision course for them, and getting closer far too quickly. Xiphos fumbled with the radio, her face a mask of stark terror.

“Captain,” she started, “we have a Wanderer-”

Cait was out her door before Xiphos finished, the alarm echoing in her quarters, fully awake. “How much time?” She asked.

“Four minutes,” Xiphos said. She jumped from her chair and, throwing open a locker along the back wall of the bridge, pulled out three bright orange suits. Cait took the radio from the control console.

“Everybody wake up,” her voice echoed through the ship. “We have a Wanderer. Survival suits. Two minutes. Get up to the bridge if you can.” She clicked the radio off. She helped Tobias into his, giving him a quick rundown of his rebreather, how to turn his oxygen on, how to activate his emergency beacon. She then put her own on.

The voices started right after, one or two at first, a low murmur over the intercom. Xiphos tried to turn down the volume, but they got louder, more of them, all speaking at the same time, until there were thousands. Toby couldn’t understand them, any one of them, the languages they spoke sounding at once ancient and alien. The roar of the voices drowned out everything, the hum of the engines, the alarm, the captain. Toby covered his ears, which only muted the sound slightly. And still the dot got ever closer.

Billy and Tre joined them on the bridge, both in their survival suits. That’s when the Wanderer’s dot eclipsed theirs. Xiphos tensed, holding tight to the back of her chair.

The Rose shook violently, listing sideways, knocking Toby off his feet. The bridge was suddenly bathed with light, so bright it washed away the bridge itself. So bright their shadows first stood strong against the wall, and then succumbed to the light. The voices started to fade, and then, as the light disappeared into the haze of the ocean, the voices stopped, the Rose’s alarms seeping back in to the cabin.

The Relay feed came alive, all boats in the area all chattering at once. The sonar showed the dot speeding away, until it left the screen. Xiphos cautiously climbed back into her chair, barely able to slide in with her survival suit on. She was visibly shaking, but Toby, picking himself up off the ground, figured they all were.

“One-hundred eighty-two knots,” Xiphos said, her voice breaking.

“That may be a record,” Cait said. “Anyone need help?”

Xiphos scanned the Relay feed. “Nothing yet,” she said. “Just sightings talk.”

Cait turned to Billy and Tre. “I want a status report straight away. I will help.”

“Sir,” Toby said. “What was that?”

Billy clasped a hand on Toby’s shoulder. “That was your first Krakken sighting.” He gave the boy a quick smile, and then hurried off into the Rose. Tre followed.

“Tobias,” Cait said, removing her survival suit. “I do not believe any of us will be able to sleep tonight. Do you feel up to making us a midnight Tea?”

Toby nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, dear.” She left to join Billy and Tre.

Toby struggled out of his survival suit, and he could hear Xiphos doing the same. As he finished, Xiphos took his hand. He turned around, eyes wide, but before he could say anything, she pulled him into a tight hug. Toby gave a muffled protest, then, giving up, very carefully rested his head against hers. They stood together, shaking, hugging if only because they were both alive.

“This doesn’t leave the bridge,” Xiphos said. She let go and, looking embarrassed, sat down in her chair. She turned back to the controls. “Now go make some damn tea.”

[g]

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Back to Part 027 – Forward to Part 029

Back to Part 026 – Forward to Part 028

Two and a half years before

The Rose left port of Hin on the western coast of Lingguo, the weight of its cargo pushing the boat lower in the water. All twenty one of her crew moved about the boat, securing crates in the cargo bay they hadn’t had time to fasten down before they shoved off. In the kitchen, the chef had already started on dinner, and his sou-chef plating the first course. On the bridge, navigation, free of the harbor pilot, plotted the quickest course back to the COS, while the helm prepared a report for the captain of their upcoming voyage.

In the guest quarters, the crew settled in their passengers, who had left their suitcases in their staterooms, and now were mingling under the false-sunset of the dome. The lights on the tables around them provided the rest of their light, while the crew served drinks and set the guest table for dinner.

Logan found Cait just as she had started to prepare her office for sleep. The papers on her desk had been arranged into neat, separate stacks, only a few luxuriating in the In Box. What had been sorted, Logan knew, had been filed away in Cait’s filing cabinets. Her pens had even been lined up neatly at the top of her desk, ready to be used in the morning. Cait was unplugging the electric kettle as Logan stepped in to the office.

“Hello, dear,” Cait said, her ears lowering a little. “What brings you up here?”

“Just wanted to report in,” Logan said, waiting just inside the office door. Cait nodded.

“We have quite the haul this time. This may be a ship record,” she said. “Why are you actually here?”

Logan faltered, and then straightened up. “I have something,” Logan said.

“Oh?” Cait looked behind Logan, who held her hands behind her back. “Is it here?”

“Well, no. But it’s big!”

“Big like the Rose big?”

“Big like we’ll never have to work again big.”

Cait wrapped the kettle’s cord around its base. She set it back on top of the filing cabinets, her smile fading. “Go on.”

“I met a group while we were in Hin, and they’ve been talking about something that, if they can find it, will be worth more money than we have ever seen.”

Cait placed a hand on her hip. “Really? Treasure-hunting? How old are you, dear?”

“It sounds like a sure thing,” Logan said. “They have a few strong leads. With a little detective work, we could be part of this.”

“And in the meantime, we just give up our work?”

“I guess we’d have to, yeah,” Logan said. She stepped forward, holding on to Cait’s arm. “At least hear them out.”

“I will hear you out,” Cait said, sliding an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “What is this thing they aim to find?”

“They don’t know. They think it’s an old weapon, from a lost civilization. They think maybe it’s where Ebe himself had been imprisoned.”

“But they are not sure.”

Logan dropped her eyes. “No. But they have a whole lot of research about it. Lots of books. Like, on every surface. So many books.”

“And they are not sure of where it is,” Cait said, her ears very slowly leveling out.

“You should have seen the books, Cait!”

“I think,” Cait said, “that this would be a bad investment of our time.”

Logan let go of Cait’s arm, and Cait stepped into her quarters. She took off her COS coat and hung it neatly on a hanger. “Remind me,” she said, if not to Logan, than herself, “that I need a dry cleaners when we land again.”

“Eaton thinks this is a sure thing,” Logan said, leaning against Cait’s desk.

Cait came back out of her quarters, in a tank top that bared her arms and shoulders. Without her coat, Cait was slender, with a hint of a tummy snuggled up under her top. Logan was once again reminded of what years of training at Archertown got Cait. “Eaton? Eaton Fyfe?”*

“Yes?” Logan said, shrinking a little.

Cait suddenly seemed much bigger. “We do not associate with pirates. Under no circumstances do I want to hear that name on this boat again.”

“Cait,” Logan started, “he’s not that bad.”

“He’s part of the decline of civilization, and that has no place on the Rose.”

“He’s on to something really big,” Logan pleaded.

“I do not care. We have no room for him or his ideas on board the Rose. As your captain, I will not allow further contact.”

“What about my friend? What does my friend think?” Logan asked.

Cait grabbed Logan by her shoulder and with gentle force, pushed her out on to the bridge. “As far as I am concerned, this conversation is over. Good night, Logan.” Cait closed the door behind her.

Tre watched from the helm’s seat. Navigation had left early, or had stepped off for a bathroom break, and now Tre sat in the glow of the helm, eyeing Logan.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Logan said to Tre. She stomped off the bridge, fuming. She got down to the crew quarters before her mind caught up with her momentum, and she turned around, back up to the bridge.

Tre had resumed his duties, checking the monitors pulled up around him. Logan sat down in the navigator’s chair.

“I’m willing to bet you heard all of that,” she said to Tre. He eyed Logan, but kept his gaze on the weather radar.

“Do you want in?”

Tre didn’t move.

“There’s more on the other side of that. Glory, riches,” Logan said. “More than this existence. No more cramped bunks, no more sharing space with twenty other people. You can go where you want, when ever you want.”

Tre turned to Logan, exhaling hard and short through his nose. He stared into Logan’s eyes until she turned away.

“Fine,” she said. “I thought I’d try. Let me know when you change your mind.” She got up, shoulders back, and strode down into the crew quarters. As she entered, a hand named Trenz looked up from his cleaning.

“Hello,” Logan said. “You got a minute to talk business?”

—-

This is what the index of the Æncyclopedia Latania says about Eaton Fyfe:

Fyfe, Eaton (3943-?)
ALSO SEE:

• disappearance;
• Early life in Lat;
• entrepreneur;
• pirate connections, alleged;
• pirate connections, confirmed;

[g]

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Back to Part 026 – Forward to Part 028

Back to Part 025 Notes – Forward to Part 027 Notes

We’re leaning towards a Xiphos-heavy middle of this act. Sorry, that’s how this story is flowing. We lost Nina, and that loss is what’s driving a good portion of the story, and since Nina was Xiphos’s girlfriend, Xiphos is going to be doing some grieving.

I suppose I don’t need to tell you.

Things I like in this section:

• Xiphos, even in mourning, can’t resist taking a jab at Billy when he says something close to an innuendo. Yes, that was a “That’s what she said,” joke in my story. I make no excuses or apologies.
• Xiphos and Billy’s closeness. It’s not fatherly, or brotherly, but it is a definite caring.

The point of this section is, more than anything, chance is a bitch. In this case, chance is named Gumes (Goo mez, if you prefer), which you may remember from the act break as being the Servant of Chance. Gumes is often used to explain why things happen. It wasn’t that Nina was killed, Gumes had no hand in that. But why was she there? Why did Xiphos hear things in the cargo bay when she did? How did she get Nina at the time she did? Why did Toby choose the cargo bay rather than the guest quarters? All of that is something Gumes would oversee. So Billy’s goal wasn’t to tell Xiphos that she should feel good about it, but rather his goal was to get her to talk about the incident.

Also, he did want to check up on her head injury. So it all works out.

As always, any questions or comments you have are totally welcome.

[g]

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Back to Part 025 Notes – Forward to Part 027 Notes

Back to Part 025 – Forward to Part 027

Since he had taken over, Toby had the guest kitchen to himself. This is where he carefully constructed each meal, almost always in silence, usually by himself. Usually.

As he washed the dishes he’d need for that night’s meal, Xiphos stood by, taking the clean dishes, drying them, and stacking them neatly on the center cooking island. The process repeated: clean, dry, stack, all wordlessly. Xiphos didn’t announce herself when she came in. She started drying the dishes Toby had stacked next to the sink, and when she ran out, she waited patiently for the next, picking up what Toby set down. Catching on to the pattern, Toby just started handing Xiphos what he finished.

Toby opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t quite know what to say. He handed Xiphos another dish, and she put it away. Toby hazarded a glance, finding Xiphos focused on the dishes. She didn’t look when he stopped, just waited. When the sink was almost empty, Billy stuck his head into the kitchen.

“Kitten,” he said, and Xiphos’s ear swiveled to him. She looked back over her shoulder. “Come with me.”

Xiphos dried her hands with the towel and draped the towel over Toby’s shoulder. She slouched after Billy, a couple doors down to the infirmary. Billy patted the paper-covered chair in the middle, and Xiphos dutifully climbed on.

Billy’s infirmary was immaculate, everything tidy, everything exactly where it should have been. Xiphos knew it from rote, having put away, charged, cleaned or restocked every single item in every cabinet, drawer, or decorative canister. But that had been before the Ugliness, back when she was a medic.

Billy turned back to Xiphos, clicked on a little flashlight, and shone it into her eyes. Xiphos squinted and tried to wrench away from Billy.

“No squirming, please,” Billy said, leveling his gaze at Xiphos. “I need to gauge how bad that blow was.”

Xiphos’s ears twitched. “…what she said,” she mumbled under her breath, each word forcing its way out.

“Hush,” Billy said. “Any headaches? Dizziness? Trouble seeing? Hearing a ringing in your ears?”

Xiphos shook her head to all of these.

“Disorientation? Trouble focusing?”

“I’m fine.” Xiphos dropped her eyes away, leaning back on the chair, propping herself up with her arms.

“Hmm…” Billy said. He clicked off the light and tucked it away into his pocket. “It does seem that way. You look like, physically, you’re recovering well.”

“That’s a weird tone,” Xiphos said.

“Yes, well,” Billy said. “You need to talk about it.”

Xiphos started to climb off the chair. Billy stepped in front of her.

“I’m not going to let you bottle things up,” he said.

Xiphos sat back down on Billy’s medical chair, folding her arms over her chest. She squinted at nothing in particular, and then, very slowly, her ears dropped, her hard gaze melting away. She took a deep breath.

“I could have saved her,” Xiphos said. Her jaw trembled, and she held it shut as best she could. “I was right there. I could’ve pulled her away before-” She covered her mouth, closing her eyes to blink back tears. Billy pulled up a rolling chair and sat down across from her. He gently stroked her arm. When Xiphos regained her composure, he said,

“I want to show you something.” He rolled up his sleeve, revealing four names tattooed on his shoulder. The first read, ‘L. Cooper – ’74,’ and then, ‘B. Stonewall – ’77,’ and ‘J. Goodly – ’78′. Xiphos remembered something vaguely about Lat and anti-pirate operations in the Northern Ocean that matched up with those dates. Fighting had been hard, and often brutal. The last name, dark and sharp, the skin around the tattoo still pink from the procedure, read simply ‘Nina – ’97.’

“These are all people I lost personally. Every one of them I failed as a medic and a doctor. I did everything I could to save Nina, but she slipped away before I could save her.”

Xiphos wiped her tears away, still not looking at Billy. “But I could have stopped her.”

“Not with that head injury. You were hit hard, and that hard of an impact robs you of your motor control. There was nothing you could have done.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“No,” Billy said. “Or at least, it’s not supposed to make you less sad. But you need to stop blaming yourself. Gumes flipped a coin and Nina happened to be the one to make the catch. It could have been you. It could have been Tobias. It could have been me.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Me neither, kitten.” Billy stroked her ears back, and Xiphos leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I miss her so much,” Xiphos said. Billy pulled her into an embrace.

“I know, kitten,” he said. “I miss her, too.”

“Does this mean we’re not going to look for the Travelers anymore?”

“Oh, no,” Billy said. “We will find them. And if it were up to me, I’d murder them on the spot. I think Cait would object to that.”

Xiphos made an entirely disinterested noise. Billy squeezed Xiphos, and then separated. He rubbed her arms. “We’ll make sure she didn’t die in vain.”

Xiphos only nodded.

“I don’t know if Cait said so, but you performed well when you had to.”

Another nod.

“Let me know if you start feeling anything weird. I’ll need to treat it as soon as possible.”

The cat nodded, and slid off the medical chair, and went back to the dishes. She found Toby almost where she had left him. He stared down at the sink, his eyes on his work, but he couldn’t hide the dark matted fur on his cheeks. He handed Xiphos a dish, and she wiped it dry.

“I shouldn’t have been there,” he said, barely audible over the din of the water. “If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have been there,” Toby said.

Xiphos eyed Toby carefully, watching as, eyes down, he handed her another dish. She took it and dried it.

“It’s not your fault,” she said.

[g]

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Back to Part 025 – Forward to Part 027

Back to Part 024 Notes – Forward to Part 026 Notes

I may have mentioned this before, but the New Archer Revolutionaries are old characters of mine. I have a habit of taking out of place characters from their old, unused series and placing them into a new environment. Xiphos came from the NAR, or at least their small group of friends. I had transplanted her when I started to feel the NAR’s story would never get told. And then I merged their universes, and so there we go.

We’ll talk about them more later.

(I doodled this out a while back. I like the way Manni came out a lot).

Logan’s being kind of a jerk here, and we should touch on that. Part of it is that Logan views, at this point, the Rose as partially her ship. So a stowaway is a slap in the face to her. Also, it’s extremely illegal. Whether or not it’s legal to throw the stowaway off the boat while sailing is something else.

Cait, of course, takes a much more civilized approach.

And Tre, of course, being the protector he feels he has to be, even with a girl that’s on board illegally. What a sweetie.

So, as always, what did I miss? Any questions and comments you have are always welcome.

[g]

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Back to Part 024 Notes – Forward to Part 026 Notes

Back to Part 024 – Forward to Part 026

Four years before

Loaded with cargo, brimming with passengers, the Rose set out from New Archer. The Rose was in the throws of a shift change, the fresh crew coming in to replace the night team. Tre had just been relieved from the helm when Logan found him. Hands on her hips, she looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. “I need your help,” she said.

Tre raised his eyebrows, looking down at the human.

“Something’s going on in the cargo bay. I need you to be big and imposing.”

Tre deflated a little. He always had to be big and imposing. Logan led the way, stamping through the crew quarters, weaving in and out of the shift going off duty, and the shift coming on. Tre did a lot less weaving; he found he rarely had to.

Logan came to an intersection down in the stacks of crates in the cargo bay. She waited, turning her head occasionally. Tre stepped forward, and she held her hand up, keeping him back. Then, Tre heard it, a small creak, the sound of someone shifting very carefully on wood. Logan pointed, her eyes wide but focused, and crept back to where the sound had come from. Tre padded around the back side of the crates, keeping an eye on Logan while scanning the shadows for the source of the sound.

They both paused at the same time, catching a shape in the shadows. Logan made signals with her hands, pointing with different fingers and waving them in different directions. Tre shook his head and shrugged a little. Logan rolled her eyes, and then darted into the shadows.

There was a scream, short and surprised, and the shape stumbled out of the shadows. Tre stepped in front of it, and the shape, a grey blur, collided with his massive fame, and fell backwards, tumbling to a stop. Tre picked it up and looked it over.

The shape was a girl, cat of some kind. Tre held her by the nape of her coat, a slightly-too-big army number, and she twisted in his grip, her tail between her legs. She whimpered from behind long white headfur.

Logan jogged out from behind the crates, giggling her adrenaline away. “Ha! That was great! Did you see the look on her face? You were like BAM!” She mimed Tre pushing the girl down. Tre rolled his eyes and sighed. He held the girl up to his eye-level. She turned away, blinking back tears.

Logan tilted her head, stepping around to make eye contact with the girl. “Hey, kitty cat. What are you doing on my boat?”

The girl whimpered again, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Stowaway,” Logan said, as if Tre did not understand. Then, switching to Merchant, said, “Let’s throw her overboard.”

Tre growled, looking at Logan. The girl squeaked, tensing in his grip.

Logan grabbed the girl’s chin and turned her so they were face to face. “You didn’t answer my question.”

The girl whimpered again. Logan squeezed, extracting a cry out of the girl. Tre growled, this time much louder, snarling at Logan. The human stepped back. “Fine,” she said. “Still, we need to take her to Cait. She’ll want to know.”

Tre nodded, but he waited for Logan to walk in front of him. When she was a good distance out, Tre set the girl down, letting her walk for herself. He kept a hand on her back, guiding her up the steps and out of the cargo bay. The girl looked up at him, but Tre just pushed her forward.

Logan stopped at a hand, Dima, and watched him take care of a short repair on a door. They talked back and forth a moment, Tre waiting with the girl a good distance back. Billy descended from the guest quarters and approached Logan, walking her through a list of supplies. She signed off on a clip board, and then continued back to the bridge.

“Who’s this, then?” Billy asked, looking down at the girl. “You’re not with the guests.”

Tre nodded.

“Ah,” Billy said. “Well, good luck, kitten.” He smiled down at the girl. She pulled into herself. Tre nudged her forward.

Up on the bridge, the helmsman, Mara, and the navigator, Kass, discussed their current route, pointing out other ships on their monitors. There was a short line waiting to get to the captain, all of business that had to be checked off. Logan dismissed them, opening the door to the captain’s office.

“Logan,” Cait said. “I do not know if you noticed, but there is a little button on my door that signals you are interested in seeing me. Although, it is a new invention, so maybe you have not discovered it as of yet.”

“We found this.” Logan motioned for Tre, who scooted the girl forward. Cait looked her over.

“Indeed you did. Thank you, dear,” she said.

“She’s a stowaway,” Logan said, stepping forward.

“I gathered. Thank you. There is crew to be managed.”

“Cait, we should-”

Cait set down her pen and stood. “Thank you, Logan. You have crew to manage. I will deal with our guest.”

Logan balled up her hands, and then stalked off the bridge. Tre turned to leave.

“Tre, dear,” Cait said, lowering her voice. Tre turned back to her. “Would you fetch some tea?”

Tre nodded. Cait closed the door to her office.

Cait nodded at the girl to sit down in the chair in front of her desk. Cait sat as well, and signed off some of the papers on her desk. The girl fidgeted in her chair, watching Cait’s every move.

Cait looked at the girl again. “Cxu Parlas ni Mercxanton?”

The girl’s ears perked, but she didn’t say anything, staring with blank fear at Cait. “Hua bu hua Lingguohua?”

Nothing.

“What about Latanian?”

The girl nodded.

There was a chime, and Cait stepped around the desk to open the door. Tre stepped in and set down a tea service.

“What did you do to the poor dear?” Cait asked. “She’s terrified.”

Tre pointed to himself, and then shook his head.

“Really?” Cait said. “Well, that is disappointing. Thank you, helmsman. Enjoy the rest of your break.” She closed the door again.

Cait poured the girl a cup, and then her own. She sat down again, and took a long sip, letting the flavor linger. “Drink,” she said. “This is often the best part of my day.”

The girl took the cup and sipped, watching Cait as she did. When the tea fully developed, her eyes widened, and she took a deeper sip.

“I am Captain Cait Molyneux,” Cait said, and the girl choked on her tea.

“What?” The girl said between gasps.

“I would tell you you have wandered on the wrong boat, but I do not think that is true.” Cait set down her tea cup, but kept her fingers on the rim. “How long have you been with us?”

“Just since New Archer,” the girl said.

“A couple of days back.” Cait turned the cup on its saucer. “Well done.”

“Are you going to throw me overboard?”

Cait sighed. “We are not barbarians, nor are we pirates. And since those two are the only ones who would behave in such practices, and since I am neither, I will not throw you overboard. I may put you to work, to pay back the resources you have taken from me.”

The girl sat back in her chair, the weight of the ocean lifted off of her.

“What are you running from?”

The girl looked at Cait. “What?”

“You are afraid of being thrown overboard, which is a fear I would guess is not new. But you risked getting on a strange boat at penalty of death.”

The girl played with her hands. “You wouldn’t-”

“Do not presume I am enjoying wasting my time.”

“There’s a revolution coming,” the girl blurted. “They’re going to take over New Archer.”

“Who?” Cait leaned forward.

“My friends. They’ve been working on it for months. They were going to do it and I didn’t want to get killed, but they’re very serious about it, and I-” Tears welled in the girl’s eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Cait nodded. She stood. “It was supposed to happen already?” She asked the girl.

The girl nodded.

Cait stepped outside her office, and leaned over Kass’s shoulder.

“Captain,” she said. Kass was bear, on the Rose with a work visa from one of the interior states of the 21 Kingdoms. Cait found her to be generally agreeable, and a hard worker.

“Could you fetch any news off the Relay about New Archer?”

Kass punched some buttons, and the Relay returned one headline at first, and then another, and another, and another. Cait and Kass scanned over the stories together. Three groups in the city had banded together and over-threw the New Archer government. Shots had been fired, though reports disagreed whether the revolutionaries had fired any themselves. They were currently occupying the government buildings, awaiting a surrender from the government. She gleamed three names: Fink, Crash, and their leader, Manni.

“Are they alright?” The girl asked, peeking out from Cait’s office.

“It appears that way,” Cait said, sitting down. “Non-violent, it looks like, on their part.”

The girl nodded. “Manni hates violence.” She smiled just a little.

“What is your name?” Cait asked. She leafed through a few of the papers on her desk.

“Xiphos,” the girl said. “Xiphos Haari.”

“So what do we do with you?” Cait asked, and the girl sat up.

“I-”

“I will put you to work. What can you offer me?”

Xiphos fidgeted. “I know a little about medicines. I used to make them for Fink and Crash and Manni when they got sick.”

“Is that so? Perhaps that is a little too much too fast. We do have plenty of floors that need to be cleaned.”

“Okay!” Xiphos said, nodding. “I’ll do it. Thank you, sir.”

Cait called Tre back up to the bridge. “Where will I be sending you when we get to our next port?”

Xiphos looked away. “I don’t have a home,” she said.

“You are an orphan?”

“No,” Xiphos said.

Cait took a sip of her tea. “Then we will talk about home when we get to our next destination. In the mean time, Tre will be your direct report. He will tell you what to do. If anyone on my boat gives you trouble, you let him know. He may be imposing, but he is a dear.”

Xiphos nodded.

Tre appeared at her door again, and Cait explained the situation. Tre nodded dutifully. He looked down at Xiphos, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Xiphos sank under the weight.

“Very good,” Cait said, when she was finished. “Now, if you could wait outside a moment, Miss Haari, I need to speak to my helmsman here.”

Xiphos, eager to please, disappeared outside the office, the door closing behind her, and as the Captain talked about her first mate inside, Xiphos tried to get her giddiness under control.

[g]

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Back to Part 024 – Forward to Part 026

Back to Part 023 Notes – Forward to Part 025 Notes

Two things happening in this section: Preparing for the Information Traders, and meeting the Information Traders. Billy, as a due to his experience in the navy, leads the way.

A couple of things about the Information Traders: They are pirates, or pirate-affiliated, which means they tend to stay away from normal ports like Anchorhead or New Haven, but are welcomed in places like Lúme, where the government finds them useful. There are neutral nations, like Ganda, that will allow pirates in, as long as they behave themselves.

Second, the Traders are, at their heart, gossips, hence the easy nature with the lead Trader and Cait. They like information, and they like to share. Lately, it’s been a lot of sharing for free, with all the arms being broken and whatnot.

Third, analog tech. One of the big things about Ta Ante I wanted to do was present a world that’s slow to adopt new technology. Certain things, like submarine tech and the Relay, are quickly picked up. But computers like we know them are much less used. Xiphos uses one on the Rose for navigation, but it is entirely normal for a captain, like Cait, to prefer charts to computers. The Traders like their books, and what was implied in this chapter is that they have thousands upon thousands of books of information. The great tome in the middle is something of an index to all of it. And I find that much more interesting than computer screens and print outs. Also, sealing wax.

So that’s all I have for this week. As always, any questions and comments you have are totally welcome.

[g]

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Back to Part 023 Notes – Forward to Part 025

Back to Part 023 – Forward to Part 025

Billy laid out scrap paper from the Relay feed on Cait’s desk. He sketched with a pencil the Port of Voys, in Lúme. He moved his hand quickly, marking little boxes for city blocks with ease. Before long he had a simple map of the port. Cait watched, hands on her hips. Traffic from Lúme had increased, and they’d reach the port in a few hours.

“We’ll be landing here,” he said, sketching the docks out from the land. “There’s an avenue here,” dark pencil streaked up the paper, “that splinters off into smaller feeders,” like branches on a tree. Along one branch, he drew a row of boxes. “These two buildings have an alley between them,” a thin line, bent in a shallow unseen slalom, “which will take us to,” quick marks made a box, “the Bloody Courtyard.”

“Bloody like ‘oi, that’s a bloody courtyard, it is’,” Xiphos said, leaning against Cait’s filing cabinent, “or bloody like bloody-bloody?”

“I think,” Billy said, “it’s just a name. Also, no one invited you. Go steer the ship.”

Xiphos sighed, trudging back to the helm. She sat down at the controls, pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. Cait watched over her shoulder, then turned to Billy.

“That was mean.”

“She knows we’re playing. She’ll be fine.” He tapped his pencil on the paper. “So?”

Cait looked at the map. “I think you could hang it in the Anchorhead Museum of Modern Art and no one would be the wiser.”

Billy dropped his shoulders. “I’m doing my best here, Cait. It’s been 15 years.”

“Just ruffling your feathers, dear. I think it is suitable.” She traced the route with her eyes. “What does one bring when one calls on an Information Trader?”

“Everyone loves a fruit basket,” Billy shrugged.

“Hmm.”

Toby waited at the door with a tea service. Cait waved him in. “Thank you, dear.”

Toby nodded, and turned back to the door. Tre was right behind, carrying a small container.

“What’s this?” Billy asked, leaning over to look inside.

“Left overs,” Toby said. A few of the little cakes were left, along with some cookies, and what looked like droplets of chocolate. He quickly arranged a small selection on a plate next to the tea pot.

“Is Tre helping you now?” Cait asked, stifling a little smile.

Toby nodded again. “I had a lot to carry.”

“That was big of you,” Billy said, up to Tre.

Tre took a cookie from the box and took a bite, raising his eyebrows at Billy. He turned to walk off the bridge, but not before Toby grabbed a couple of cookies himself, plating one on a saucer from the tea service. He stayed a moment longer.

“Do not go too far, Tre,” Cait said. “I will need to speak to you in just a moment.”

Toby shifted his weight back and forth, from foot to foot. “Uhm… sir?” He said, dropping his eyes away from Cait.

“Yes, dear,” Cait said. She poured tea for Billy, and then herself.

“Do you… when… when do you think I’ll be able to go home?”

“Soon,” Cait said. “We are working on it, but these things can take time. I will make sure you are informed. Does that answer your question?”

Toby nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” He started back to the guest kitchen, which he had taken over as his, but curved his path. He took the plate with the cookie on it and set it down next to Xiphos, before almost darting off the bridge. Xiphos looked down at the cookie, and then back out the hatch. Her tail twitched a little.

Tre slipped back into the office, waiting with his hands behind his back.

“We will need you for this mission,” Cait said.

Tre raised an eyebrow.

“I would prefer having an escort with me when I go to speak to the pirates.”

Tre shook his head.

“No? And why not?”

Tre tapped the medallion around his neck.

“I do not expect trouble,” Cait said. “But I would like someone to intimidate all the same.”

Tre shook his head again.

“You won’t have to hurt anyone,” Billy said.

Tre gave a short, exasperated sigh, and held out his hands, open to Billy.

“No,” Cait said. “We are asking him to go against his oath.” She turned to Billy. “We will just have to work with what we have.”

—-

Bloody Square resembled neither. It was an oblong, half-hearted attempt at a rectangle, notched by doorways and alcoves and little shrines to the various Gods and their Servants. And it was quiet, tempered only by the sound of a little fountain trickling away.

Billy pointed Cait to a perfectly boring door on the edge of the square. It was a door that was trying too hard to be perfectly boring, right down to its perfectly chosen stain and door knocker. Cait lifted the knocker and pounded a couple of times. From inside came nondescript bustling. Cait looked back at Billy, who focused hard on looking tough.

The door opened, but only enough for someone to peek out. “Bonan tagon.”

“We would like information,” Cait said.

The man narrowed his eyes. “Foriru!” He started to close the door. Billy hit it with the heel of his hand, and the door sprang open. Cait stepped inside. There was a small foyer, with steps leading up to what could have been apartments. Off to the side with a door, slightly cracked, light spilling out from inside. Cait motioned to Billy to follow her in.

“Digu!” The man said, trying to block the door. “Ni havas nenio por vin!”

Billy brushed the man aside, and Cait stepped in to the room.

The walls of the room were bookshelves over every imaginable size and shape. Cait took the time to examine some of the spines. They were marked by hand with ever increasing numbers. Every shelf had only these books. In the center of the room was a table, more of these books surrounding a much larger volume, which had been spread open. A couple of scholarly-looking men, their work interrupted, looked up from the table. A doorway led to another room that, from what Cait could tell, looked exactly like this one.

“I am not asking,” Cait said. The man looked between Cait and Billy a few times.

“No,” he said, his Merchant suddenly disappearing. “I should guess not.”

“We want to talk about a map,” Cait said. She turned back to the man. “I am sure you are aware of it.”

“There are a lot of maps,” the Information Trader said. He took a few steps towards the table. The scholars got up and left the room, closing the door behind them. The Trader looked up and swore.

“Hmm,” Cait said. “But none like this one. Perhaps you have heard of it. It seems to be very old, but the continents are incredibly and very accurately detailed. The Gods seem to be watching from the borders.”

“It sounds wonderful,” the Trader said, “but I have heard of no such map.”

“You are wasting my time,” Cait said.

“I could say the same of you.”

Cait stepped forward. The Trader stepped back. “This is your last chance, pirate. Tell me what you know about the map.”

The Trader laughed, and Cait tilted her head. She hadn’t expected that, but she hid her surprise quickly.

“Or what?”

“Him,” Cait said, motioning with her head to Billy.

The Trader snorted. “I’ve seen worse.”

Cait sighed hard through her nose. “Right,” she said, dropping her voice. She looked at the wooden floorboards. Then, looking right at the Trader, her voice stronger, she said, “Billy, punch him in the throat.”

Billy cracked his knuckles, squeezing his hands into fists. He stepped forward, raising his hand. The Trader shielded his face, “Alright!”

“Billy,” Cait said, and Billy stepped back. The Trader stepped around the table to the great book in the center. He flipped a few pages back, scanning the page with his finger. He stopped, read the passage, and then looked up at Cait.

“I think you will find the answer is exactly what you thought it was.”

“And what would that be?” Cait said.

“Pirates,” the Trader said.

“Hmm. And what am I supposed to do with that?”

“You have your hunches,” the Trader said. “But you have a few leads to follow.”

“That means nothing. I am not here to get my fortune told. Is this how you conduct your business?”

The Trader leaned against the table. “A lot of the pirate clans wanted the map as much as you do now. We’ve received numerous visits, just as you have, except usually we play dumb and tell them nothing.” The Trader scratched behind his ear.

“And why is this time different?”

“I like you, Captain Molyneux.”

Cait raised an eyebrow.

“I cannot help but feel responsible for your loss,” the pirate said.

“What do you know of-” Cait started.

The Trader shrugged. “What is it you think we do here? Anyways, I have a name of a boat where the map may be.” He produced a piece of paper and a pen, and wrote a name on it. He then, very ceremoniously, sealed it with wax and stamped it with the Information Trader’s seal. “Find this ship, and you’ll find your map.” He handed the paper to Cait. “And the people that go with that map, I assume.”

“Thank you,” Cait said. She took her leave, letting Billy linger a moment. When they were both gone, the Trader rapped on the door to the next room.

“You can come out now,” the Trader said, adding under his breath, “you jellyfish.” He straightened the books on the table, returning the great tome to the work in progress, and checking over the work of his scholars. Another moment passed, and gradually, the scholars returned to their stations. Another knock came at the door.

“Really? Did I not already give you what you need?” He opened the door. “What is it now, Captai-”

“I’m back.” A former patron.

“No,” the Trader said. He tried to push the door closed, reaching for the emergency alarm next to the door. “You’re supposed to be heading to-”

“Yeah,” the patron said. They rammed the door, spilling in. The scholars tried to get up, but more people streamed through the door. The patron stepped inside, drawing a gun.

“We need to talk about my map.”

[g]

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Back to Part 023 – Forward to Part 025