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 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 – 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

Back to Part 021 – Forward to Part 023

The Gimble Molyneux led the funeral procession from Ganda back to Molyneux Island, a fleet of Molyneux and non-Molyneux ships following behind them. When the fleet entered COS waters, the COS coastal patrol met them, and escorted them in, all the way to Molyneux Island.

It was sunny when the procession carried Nina, on foot, back to the estate. A piper led the way. Estate guards blocked off the main road to the estate, and when Nina passed, they saluted. Boats gathered around the island, coming from all over the Confederation, to catch a glimpse of the funeral. A Molyneux had died, and now there was tradition to be seen.

Nina was laid to rest in a plot reserved for her branch of the family. She was lowered into the ground by her father, her senior uncles, and Xiphos. Cait and her crew stood back with the family. Cait held her hands in front of her, her eyes leveled at the casket, moving only to wipe away an occasional tear. Billy cried hard on her shoulder.

The procession dissolved into the afternoon, moving back to the estate. Xiphos stayed behind, kneeling on the disturbed dirt near the open grave. A couple of the grounds keepers waited under a nearby tree, watching Xiphos. They left when Galle shooed them away. He joined Xiphos, standing a distance behind her at first. He drew out his approach until he was sure she was aware of his presence. Xiphos looked up at him, the fur on her face still damp. She had managed to scrub much of the blood away, but the peak of white near the top of her face still carried a stain.

Galle nodded down at her. “We didn’t get to speak properly earlier.”

Xiphos sighed. “Sorry,” she said.

“Think nothing of it,” Galle said. “I was touched that you wanted to help carry Nina. I wasn’t aware that she had found someone.”

Xiphos nodded, her eyes drifting back to the grave stone at Nina’s head. Her name, birthday, and date of death had been carved into the stone, the letters fresh and sharp. The stone itself had only been delivered a few days before. “Cait knew.”

“Yes,” Galle said. “She would, wouldn’t she?”

Xiphos closed her eyes, tears streaming out. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. Galle said nothing behind her, though he too wiped away his own tears. After a while, he gently touched his hand to Xiphos’s shoulder. “It’s time to go.” He held his hand out, and Xiphos took it. Galle pulled her up.

“I don’t know if you would have liked it, but I would have welcomed the thought of adding you to our family.”

Xiphos, caught by surprise, looked up at Galle. “Sir?”

“You made her happy,” he said, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. “And that’s all I ever wanted for her.”

Xiphos considered this, sliding her hands into her pockets. “I don’t think I’d have liked that.”

“It’s not a very good family, is it?” Galle said.

From their vantage point, they both could see the Dinghy pull up to the cemetery gates. They walked past generations of Molyneux, through the shadows of Nigel and Rose and Gimble, holding their breath as they did.

“She-” Xiphos started, her words caught by a small sob. She swallowed, and then tried again. “She made me want to be better.”

Galle nodded. “Me too, Miss Haari.”

Billy waited at the Dinghy. He hugged Xiphos when she got near. “Kitten?” He asked. Xiphos just shrugged, and climbed into the back. Galle followed. Billy pulled out of the estate, leaving the grounds keepers to finish their work.

—-

By that night, the Rose and Kelonio were underway, back towards Peck Harbor.

Cait spread a map across her desk, and along with Tre, started marking all of the possible islands where the Travelers could have escaped.

“It is possible,” Cait said, turning a compass on the map, “that they could have gotten this far if we assume a constant 30 knot speed.” She finished a concentric ring that emanated out from the position of the Rose during the attack. “But that only takes account for one day.”

Tre nodded. He started crossing off islands on the map outside the circle, and Cait soon picked up on the pattern he was seeing. Most of the islands in that area were controlled by or under the influence of the 21 Kingdoms to the west, and Lat to the north. To the southwest of their attack, just above the antarctic circle, were a small collection of islands, a well known pirate stronghold. Cait did the math. “Over 10 days to here,” she said. Tre nodded, but Cait knew what he was thinking. They — the pirates, the Travelers, or whoever — would still be sailing. But it also seemed as unlikely a place as any other. Still, Cait circled the islands.

Tre drew another ring. Two days, and that only got them to the COS, Lat, or Ghanda. They wouldn’t have been on Ghanda, not the pirates, even as neutral as it was. The whole Molyneux fleet was there, and that would have been the end of them. Cait turned on the Relay.

“Rose to Kelonio. How is your search going?”

The Relay crackled. Then, Galle’s familiar voice: “We’re out of ideas, Cait. In the time we lost, they could have gone anywhere.”

“Yes, we are seeing that too.”

“We’re working on it, Cait. We’ll let you know if we think of anything.”

“Aye,” Cait said. She set down the Relay receiver. Hands on her hips, she looked over the map. Tre mirrored her stance, sighing hard through his nose.

“I wasn’t informed there were maps involved,” Billy said. Tre stepped away from the door and let Billy in. He scanned the map.

“We’ll never find them this way, Cait. There’s just too much ocean to cover.”

Cait stared at the map. “We are not giving up just like that, Billy.”

“Who says anything about giving up?” Billy picked up a pencil and plotted a course to one of the larger islands in the area, south of Lat territory, and north of 21 Kingdoms domain. “Lúme,” Billy said. “No pirates allowed, but no political affiliation with any of the super three, either. And they tend to turn a blind eye to those of lesser repute if they behave themselves. No extradition treaties, no participation in La Patrolo. Which makes them a nice, quiet home to the Information Traders.”

Cait looked up at Billy. “The Information Traders?”

“Someone wanted that map,” Billy said. “It’s a weird, very singular map, and someone wanted it. The Information Traders know all about it. I’d put my career on it.”

“You said there were no pirates,” Cait said.

“These are useful pirates. Blind eye and all. The Lúmese government likes them for the same reason we want them.”

“Where did you pick up all of this?” Cait asked.

“What do you think I did in the Lat navy?” He tapped the pencil on the page. “Three and a half days. Then we get an answer.”

Cait looked at Tre and nodded. “Let’s go.” She picked up the Relay again. “Rose to Kelonio. We have a lead.”

“That is good news,” Galle said. “We may have one, too. We are going to an island just outside Lat territory called Lesse Rote.”

Cait looked over at Billy.

“It’s abandoned,” he said. “Or it should be. It’s worth checking out.”

“Aye,” Cait said. “We are heading to Lúme. I will have Tre forward the coordinates.”

“Right,” Galle said. “We’ll split then. Let us know what you find.”

“And you as well,” Cait said. “Get some sleep.”

“You first,” came the response. And then the Relay fell back to static.

[g]

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Back to Part 021 – Forward to Part 023

Back to Part 019 Notes – Forward to Part 021 Notes

Back when Cait was on Molyneux Island, Milly had said, “Cait’s family sucks,” and at first I wanted to defend them. But, no, they really suck, and Cait has to put up with them. But, thankfully, for sanity’s sake, she can’t actually be ordered around by them. Shanda might say no to an all out raid, a pirate hunt, but that doesn’t mean Cait and Galle can’t have one of their own. So they plan on it. And so they move forward.

It’d be interesting to see what Gimble Molyneux, the namesake of the Molyneux flagship, actually thinks about the whole situation, though having lived over 500 years before, she’s awfully quiet now. Gimble is known for great heroics, Shanda for business. There’s a big difference there.

I’m flailing for things to talk about again. What questions do you have? As always, any questions or comments are totally welcome.

[g]

Back to Part 019 Notes – Forward to Part 021 Notes

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Back to Part 019 — Forward to Part 021

The Gimble Molyneux was a large, majestic steam Storm Runner from the late 3930s. She could carry 300, and had a crew of 100 to move the ship around and take care of its guests. It shone white on the horizon, and could been seen as soon as it crested over. She had been the site of famous international mediations — of the end of the Monitrova and Ido war, the handover of Bei Land to Lingguo, and the surrender of the pirate captain Winifred Tosh — host to diplomats and government officials, the ship where Lat Prime Minister Sylvester Pendelton snuck away to have emergency surgery. Like her name, The Gimble Molyneux carried history, so it was fitting that the Family Molyneux kept her as their flagship.

The interior was no less impressive: dark woods, great staircases and chandeliers, a fine dance hall, four great dining rooms, and, of course, the very private family quarters. Those rich enough, and lucky enough, to sail on the Gimble Molynuex, could very well catch a glimpse of a member of the famous family as they took time off from their busy lives. But more often than not, the family hid in the family quarters.

Cait moved past security check points, waved through by guards, until she was delivered into a darkened room. Inside was a long table, chair arranged on either side, with her parents, Shanda and M’Ba, at the very end. Her brothers and sisters, all 12 of them, sat on either side, and their eyes fell on her as she entered. Though this was a meeting of the family, they had come as formal as they could, with the exception of Ilonanda, who looked no different than he ever did. There was a seat open between Jing, in her COS Navy Captain’s uniform, and M’Bana, wearing, almost comically, his official vestments from his scholarly recognitions.

“Well,” Shanda said, appraising her children from the head of the table. “Shall we get started?”

There was a pause. The formality was completely unneeded, and Cait felt the fur on the back of her neck bristle.

“I believe,” Chou started, holding a stack of papers, “the cost of the map in question should be covered by our insurance, and we’ll be able to reimburse both the price of the map and the cost to Cait…”

Next to him, Galle stirred in his chair. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice soft, breaking only slightly as he spoke. “Did I hear that right? Is our first, and may I guess, only order of business here to talk about a map that was stolen?”

“Compensation must be considered,” Chou said.

Galle tried to form words, stumbling over his shock and anger. “Nina, your niece, your granddaughter,” he looked at his parents, “my daughter is dead. And we’re talking about a map?”

“It was a valuable map,” Chou said.

“Are you MAD?” Galle stood, knocking his chair back. “My daughter was murdered. A Molyneux was murdered. What are we going to do about it?”

Galle was met with silence. M’Ba, at the head of the table, cleared his throat. “We do not know who killed Nina.”

“I have their paperwork,” Cait said. “They are both registered Travelers. What do you want to know about them?”

“The Travelers who disappeared into the ocean?” Chou said, staring hard at Cait. “Who we cannot find?”

“I did not realize we were looking,” Cait said, matching Chou’s stare.

“And you are sure of it?”

“My helmsman and a hand were both witness to the assault.”

“Your witnesses are two teenagers?”

“My helmsman has been nothing but trustworthy, Chou, and I would appreciate you not insinuating she is a liar.”

“Forgive me for being skeptical, Caitie,” Chou started, “but as far as I know, you are the only one of us who employs an admitted murderer on board.”

Cait stood, too. “My first mate is reformed, and under the sanctuary of the Oracle. If you wish to locate him, I can assure you he is in her presence right now. He has been and is paying for his crime, but he would never hurt, much less kill Nina.”

Chou dropped his eyes from Cait. “One can never be too sure.”

Cait opened her mouth, but Galle cut her off.

“Nina’s killers are on the ocean right now, and I would like to know what we are going to do about it.”

“Nothing.”

The attention of the table focused on Shanda, who had her hands folded in front of her.

Galle’s jaw dropped open. “Nothing?”

“It is too risky to chase after killers like that,” Shanda said.

“We are Molyneux!”

“And yet, we cannot change the will of Nibiru. As far as I’m concerned, it was a tragedy that Nina was killed, but-”

Galle left the room. Cait followed.

Galle had made it all the way to the deck before Cait caught up with him. He leaned over the railing, his head down, his eyes closed. Cait stood next to him a moment, and then, very carefully, she put her arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I failed you.”

Galle shifted so he could hold her back. “It wasn’t your fault.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “I just don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.”

“What do we do now, Cait?” Galle asked.

“We go after them.”

Galle’s eyes grew wide. “We…”

“If they will not, the Rose will. We want our crew member back, and if we can’t get that, we want justice.”

Gall took a step out from Cait, and looked out over the port. He scrubbed his face with his hands, and leaned back over the railing. “I… I will talk to the Kelonio tonight. If they agree, we will join you.”

“You know where to find me,” Cait said, turning to go back to the Rose. Galle caught her by the arm. He drew his check book from his pocket and scribbled out a check for 2 million Leagues.

“I cannot take this,” Cait said.

“Refuse their money,” Galle said, holding out the check. “Take mine. I will keep you sailing for as long as it takes to find them.”

“This is twice as much as the map was worth.”

“I know,” Galle said. “That’s a retainer. When we find the bastard that killed Nina, I want him to myself.”

“I cannot take this,” Cait said again, pushing the check back.

“Cait,” Galle said, his voice cracking. “Let me help you, so you can help me.”

Cait’s shoulders slumped. She took the check and neatly folded it. “We set out after the funeral.”

“You’ll have an answer no later than an hour from now.” Galle pulled Cait into a hug, and then left the Gimble Molyneux. Cait took a moment for herself. She leaned on the railing, just as Galle had done, let her eye wander down the deck of the ship. Down at the aft of the ship, she could make out the short form of Logan, talking with Chou. Cait narrowed her eyes, and started off towards them, but Logan noticed, and ducked back inside. By the time Cait got to the door, Logan had disappeared into the Gimble Molyneux.

[g]

Back to Part 019 — Forward to Part 021

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Back to Act 2 Notes – Forward to Part 020 Notes

It’s understandably quiet on the Rose. Everyone has kind of slipped away to do their own thing. For the first time, we get a taste of Cait’s religion. We’ve talked about the Gods, if only in the prologues, but not how people worship them. Cait has a certain eastern approach to it: a small shrine to Nibiru in her bunk, an offering, kowtowing. And Nibiru is, seemingly, a good choice for Cait: Nibiru is the goddess of the oceans and very popular among sailors. But Cait wouldn’t just praise Nibiru. If Cait were to set foot on Lat or the 21 Kingdoms for very long, she’d find a temple or shrine Tiamat or Ummo to ask for the safe passage of her crew and herself, if not full on worship. This is the norm all over the world, though not the only religion. And we haven’t even covered the veneration of the ancestors, who themselves become something like gods, though more accurately they’re like a committee of family members. We’ll get into that later.

This is a dark time for the crew of the Rose, but I can’t help but think Toby is being adorable in this scene. That wasn’t really my goal with Toby, to make him adorable, he just kind of turned out that way. More specifically, his way of coping with Nina’s death is to start cooking, especially comfort foods, though I’m not sure he thought about it that much. What he’s doing is trying to make the crew of the Rose happy, or at least happier. Also, I drew a picture of Toby being adorable:

If you’re marking on your calendar, we’re on day 13. Toby has only known these people less than two weeks. They talk like he’s staying, but he’s thinking about going home. What Cait said is surprising to him, but he’s been thinking it, even if he knows going home could lead to bad things.

And thus ends another commentary. What have I missed? As always, and questions or comments are totally welcome.

[g]

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Back to Act 2 Notes – Forward to Part 020 Notes

Back to Act 2 Prologue – Forward to Part 020

The Rose entered Port Ganda with the aid of a harbor master. She flew two flags: one of a pirate attack, and one of lost crew member. The harbor master saw to it there were no ships in her way, and no one entered or left the harbor when the Rose came in. The coroner waited on the docks, and took Nina to be held until the Molyneux’s official envoy could carry her back to Buan Chuimhne. The Rose was docked, and Cait stood the crew down.

There were no traditions of honor guards in the Civilian Navy, but Tre, Billy, and Xiphos all took turns sitting with Nina while the Rose made the remainder of the journey to Ganda.

None of the crew left the Rose, with the exception of Tre. Ganda had become his second home. Ganda was where the Oracle herself made her home, her temple overlooking Port Ganda high in the mountain above the city. He left when they arrived in the port. Everyone else disappeared to their bunks.

Cait closed her own door, taking in the silence of her bunk. The light in her bunk was low, as she always kept it, except for the small reading lamp over her bed. She left it off. She opened her vent, letting cool, fresh air inside. In the far corner of her bunk, covered by a red cloth, was an alter to Nibiru, Goddess of the Ocean Tribes. Cait lit some incense. She knelt before the shrine, and very careful, she bowed, touching her head to the floor, making sure her movements were precise, exact. She kept her head down exactly eight seconds, and then lifted up. Averting her eyes away from the tiny statue of Nibiru inside, she said, “Great Goddess of the Oceans, I thank you for its creation and the bounty you have seen fit to provide myself and my crew…”

Cait hesitated, her jaw trembling. She held it shut until she was sure she could control it. “I will not question why you chose to take Nina at the time you did, but she passed under your watch, and I ask that you please guide her safely to the shores of Mingulay. And please watch over the safety of my crew. I know it is presumptuous of me to say, but you have already taken enough from me.”

She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “If this is not where you want me to be, please let me know.”

She bowed again, touching her head to the floor and counting the full eight seconds. From a basket on the floor, Cait took an orange and placed it in front of shrine. She left her bunk to find her crew.

Cait found the guest quarters empty. She opened the dome, letting in real sunlight, hoping to make the shadows leave.

The crew quarters were silent, and both Billy and Xiphos had closed and locked their doors. Cait retrieved a bucket from under the sink, tossed a soap tablet in, and began to fill it with hot water. She tossed a brush inside, and started towards the cargo bay.

Toby pinged down the steps, stopping in front of her. Neither expected each other, and both jumped back, Cait sloshing water on the floor.

“Sir!” Toby said. He scrambled to the table to unload his arms, and went back to help Cait clean up the water. “Sorrysorrysorry!”

“Tobias,” Cait said, her voice soft, tired. “It is nothing.”

Toby nodded. He went back to the table.

“How are you, Tobias?”

Toby looked up at Cait through his headfur. It seemed to always be styled, but today it drooped down in front of his eyes. Dark streaks tracked down his cheeks, his eyes tired and red. He shrugged.

Cait sat down at the table, setting her bucket aside for the moment. Toby went about setting everything up he had carried down. There were little trays of brightly colored puffs and miniature cakes, various fried-looking things. It all looked unhealthy and delicious.

“What are you up to?” Cait asked slowly, looking over his creations. “Did you bake all of this?”

Toby stopped. He took a step back from the table, and played with his hands. “Yes, sir.” He hesitated a moment. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Cait nodded, folding her arms over her stomach. “I would worry if you did,” she said. She pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. “Quite frankly, Tobias, I do not know what to do, either.” She cradled her head in her hands.

Cait let the conversation between them sputter off. She took a moment to rest. Toby fidgeted, and the silence was broken by the sound of metal sliding over wood. It stopped against Cait’s arms. She very slowly looked down at the tray of little cakes, colorful little cubes that reminded her of New Year’s presents. Toby leaned over the table, kneeling on a chair, pushing the tray forward with his finger tips. He drew back his hand, watching Cait.

Cait took a little cake. “Thank you, Tobias.”

Toby nodded. He sat down at the table with Cait, and watched her eat the cake. She paused a moment, considering the flavor, and took another.

“That’s quite good,” she said.

Toby’s tail thumped against the chair.

“Why have you not tried to run yet?” Cait asked.

“Sir?”

“There is a Colony consulate here. You could have been in the care of your government by now, on your way home.”

Toby played with his hands. “I dunno.”

“Would you like to go?”

Toby looked up at Cait, meeting her strong but tired gaze. Her ears had flattened out, heavy with defeat. “I don’t… I thought you were going to straighten things out.”

“I do not feel I can keep you safe anymore, which was the reason to keep you here. Perhaps your own people could sort out your problems.”

Toby shrank in his chair, looking away. His ears flattened against his head.

Cait stood, picking up her bucket. “We will be here a few days. My family and I will meet. If you are to leave during that time, I would not hold it against you.” She left Toby at the table, her back to his wide, confused stare.

Cait descended into the cargo bay, and set the bucket down in the middle of the floor, next to the spot where Nina had spent her final moment. The floor was sticky with dried blood. Cait splashed some of the water on to the floor, got down on her knees, and began to scrub.

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