In the Wake of the Kraken
Page 26
* * *
Sixwind: The kraken travels, and when it moves, things get caught. Whales in the sky. People from Frostborne appearing in Kimichula. And if you’re lucky, the kraken brings things from elsewhere.
* * *
Weiland: Other lands?
* * *
Sixwind: Other worlds. Artifacts. Treasures. Sometimes, people. You hear stories. Never know what to believe, but I’ve seen strange happenings myself. Strange peoples. Could be they were born a certain way and tell tales to hide it. Could be the truth.
* * *
Weiland: And pirates know to follow the kraken? Look for these artifacts?
* * *
Sixwind: I never said pirate. Best watch yourself. That face is looking mighty excitable.
* * *
Weiland: Sorry! Sorry.
* * *
Sixwind: How do you think Bottomless Braddock built his reputation? A world’s only got so much wealth, so much power. The kraken opens the door to more.
Unknown: Two pints, Jacques. What’s this?
* * *
Jacques: The bookballoon left it. Had too much, off to the facilities.
* * *
Unknown: Worth anything?
* * *
Jacques: Bugger all. Man can barely afford his ink.
* * *
Unknown: Shame. Cheers.
* * *
Jacques: Before you go, pass on word up to the Midnight. He’s been asking about the kraken, nosing in on the trade. Probably nothing important, but they should know.
* * *
[Clinking]
* * *
Jacques: [Pause] The captain’s got bottomless pockets, I’ll give him that.
Weiland: Issen, back at the Merry Grappler. Our venture to the lower levels of Rustowne were… a mixed success. Some fascinating leads. But many fabrications. This isn’t anything like delving into the Archarrier stacks… Barkeep! You look surprised to see me. Half lager, if you please. Thank you, perfect pour as ever.
* * *
Jacques: Find what you’re looking for?
* * *
Weiland: Not at all, but plenty of fascinating stories. Odd how everyone knows about the kraken, but you try and get people to talk about it and it’s all rumors, hearsay…
* * *
Jacques: [Pause] I have a lead for you.
* * *
Weiland: Just now? I’ve been here for weeks, man. Tell me.
* * *
Jacques: Yes, I’ve kept it from you. For your sake. But at this rate, you’ll run into trouble whether or not you find answers. Go to The Crimson Cog. Ask for Pat Stone. He’s retired now, but I’ll bet he still haunts the place. Just keeps hanging on.
* * *
Weiland: And this man knows about the kraken?
* * *
Jacques: He’s not exactly… well, yes. He’ll tell you about the kraken.
* * *
Weiland: That is spectacular, barkeep! These first-hand accounts are critical in our effort to place the kraken in the taxonomic charts. Gratitude is too small a word, I’m thrilled, is it too late to head over now? …
Weiland: You know, I think this, the—[clears throat]—em, Crimson Cog is a step up from the Ugly Ambergris. Three options on the board. More than one, isn’t that right?
* * *
Unknown: Who are you talking to?
* * *
Weiland: To you! And to posterity. See, this device here—
* * *
Unknown: Jump into a shit vat.
* * *
Weiland: Sir, that’s not… ah, you’re leaving. I see. Barkeep, may I have a half of lager?
* * *
Barkeep: No lager. Ale or white.
* * *
Weiland: White is the colloquial term for …
* * *
Barkeep: Distillate. Moonshine. Engine cleaner.
* * *
Weiland: Right. The ale, please. Thank you. And… do you, by any chance, know of a Patrick Stone?
* * *
Barkeep: In the back room. Play darts? No? Shame. Winning some cash puts him in a good mood.
* * *
[Loud noises, possibly footsteps]
* * *
Weiland: Excuse me, sorry.
* * *
[More loud noises.]
* * *
Don’t want to get this going all over again, running low on cylinders… Sorry! Sorry.
* * *
[A thud]
* * *
Weiland: Sorry, do you know of a Pat, a Patrick Stone?
* * *
Unknown 2: Over there.
* * *
Weiland: Where? I don’t see—
* * *
Stone: Right here, you miserable giraffe.
* * *
Weiland: Oh. Oh! I do apologize. I didn’t see, I mean, I was looking up…
* * *
Stone: Yes, I’m short. Congratulations, no one’s ever noticed. If Vinter sent you, money’s coming in next week. Tell him to stuff some ice in his pants. Impatient sonofabitch, even for a loanie. Now get out of my pub.
* * *
Weiland: Um, sir, sorry, I—
* * *
Stone: Do I look like I carry money on me? Keep asking and I’ll use your pretty face for darts practice.
* * *
Weiland: Kraken! I came to ask you about the kraken. Please don’t dart my face. Please.
* * *
Stone: The kraken. What have you heard?
* * *
Weiland: To be honest, in terms of first-hand accounts, not much. Legends and tales, plenty. And, well, something about pirates.
* * *
Stone: Pirates? You’re talking about pirates? We won’t be safe talking, not here, much as it hurts to admit. Not my bar anymore. Not the place I built. Here, take this. We’ll meet there at noon. That’s when the unsavory settle to sleep, after all. And put that drinking horn away, you’ll only attract attention—
* * *
[Loud buffeting sounds. Segments of conversation, unintelligible.]
* * *
Weiland: Is it true? You’ve seen it yourself?
* * *
Stone: It’s something I talked about, once. Not anymore. Years of being talked down to, so to speak.
* * *
[Long silence]
* * *
Stone: It’s fine. I’m a dwarf, I don’t have to take things seriously, now do I?
* * *
Weiland: And you are… an actual dwarf? From a whole civilization of them?
* * *
Stone: Who told you to come find me?
* * *
Weiland: Jacques, the barkeep at the Merry Grappler.
* * *
Stone: Turns out I had someone listening, after all. Look, how old do you think me?
* * *
Weiland: I don’t know if it’d be rude to judge. Ah—sixty or so?
* * *
Stone: I started at the Crimson Cog back in thirty-eight.
* * *
Weiland: But that’s… how old are you?
* * *
Stone: One and forty-four. Everyone assumes I’m lying, of course. I’ll outlive anyone who cares.
* * *
Weiland: That’s… how is that possible? Where are the rest of your people?
* * *
Stone: Oh, they’re well, as far as I know. I’ve given up on seeing them again. You asked about the kraken. I’ve seen the kraken, boy. The kraken is why I’m here on your godforsaken world.
* * *
Weiland: So you’ve seen it, seen the kraken yourself? Where are you from? When did you encounter the kraken? Did you see what happened to it, see how it travels?
* * *
Stone: Don’t you understand? The kraken appears to come in and out of existence, but that’s an illusion. Reality is it’s traveling. And not merely from land to land, but world to world. It came to my
world. Took my ship, a pale arm wider than the pillars of Uliedun, arcing from the surf. I didn’t even want to be at sea…
* * *
Weiland: But how? What do you remember?
* * *
Stone: Recollection? You doubt everything you see and hear and feel in a time like that. You’ll know it when your world crumbles. I remember waves, reaching for the mainsail. The riven deck, torn apart like cake in a child’s hands. Then darkness, a soundless void that pulled the breath from my lungs and my mind from my body. I thought death had visited its mercy upon me. The kraken… the worst part is I don’t think it even knew we were there. We were ants. That’s all we were. Ants drowning in the sea.
* * *
Weiland: When you came to, you were… here? In a … a different world?
* * *
Stone: A different world? I thought so, but sometimes I wonder if it’s a different time that I’ve come to. Pulled out of the water by pirates, would you believe it. They took everything of value I had, which wasn’t much, and found me passage to the Hub. Fair trade, I suppose. Let me tell you, I was convinced I’d taken the long way to the afterworld. Come here to see humans living in the sky, those flying sailboats like seagulls in the wind, but we’re not so different, as it turns out. People are people, and most of them want ale. Found meself a new life…
* * *
[A silence.]
* * *
Weiland: Did you say pirates found you?
* * *
Stone: That’s right. Ugly fellows, one with a goldcap tooth, like in the stories. Funny how they be the same in both our worlds, isn’t it? And none of them like being mentioned. I can see you don’t believe, that you have your doubts. But thank you for letting an old man talk. I mean to write a book, you know. About my world. Mayhaps no one will believe it real, but the truth will be there for those who seek it.
* * *
Weiland: I hope you do. Knowledge should be preserved, even if it’s not appreciated in its time.
* * *
Stone: Lad, I have another name for you. She’s a hard one. But she believed me when I told, not half because her tale is even stranger. If you insist on pulling this thread, well ... Be careful.
Weiland: So? Does the name look familiar to you?
* * *
Jacques: I have to say. You’re more persistent than I gave you credit for.
* * *
Weiland: Well you don’t graduate with distinction from Cardinal like it’s a cakewalk.
* * *
[A silence.]
* * *
Jacques: … If you insist.
Weiland: So, ma’am—
* * *
Carragher: Ma’am? What am I, your mother?Carragher.
* * *
Weiland: Carragher, sorry. Would you describe yourself as a pirate?
* * *
Carragher: Look, a clockwork leg. What more proof do you need?
* * *
Weiland: I’m only trying to have everything declared aloud, you know, to get things on the record. Into the phonocorder.
* * *
Carragher: It depends on how you mean, pirate. Some would say, “once a pirate, always a pirate.” You don’t seem the type to be interested in pirates. So, who are you?
* * *
Weiland: A scholar, ma’am—sorry, Carragher. I’m trying to put the kraken in the annals of taxonomic science.
* * *
Carragher: Indeed. And what do you think the kraken is?
* * *
Weiland: The kraken? An animal, albeit one we don’t understand. Possibly beyond our understanding. But if it has a body, if it breathes, and eats, then no matter how vast it may be, it is a creature of this world. Well, perhaps not solely of this world.
* * *
Carragher: So you’ve come with stories of your own.
* * *
Weiland: Stone gave me your name.
* * *
Carragher: I thought he might. He’s got a soft inside. He probably also warned you not to dig too deep. It’s risky.
* * *
Weiland: But how? I don’t see why advancing science has…
* * *
Carragher: I’m sure you’re a clever man, Dr. Weiland, despite the impression you’re giving me right now.
* * *
Weiland: Issen, please.
* * *
Carragher: Issen, then. I’ll tell you the story of how I lost my leg, and you tell me if you’re still confused about why talking about the kraken is a bad idea.
* * *
[Clears throat.]
* * *
It starts with a girl. Amelia Xu. For those of us growing up around the Archarrier, she was the one. Beautiful, of course, and she could climb rigging like she was born in a harness. But, Issen, Amelia was smart. And she understood people. Never got into trouble, Amelia. The librarians caught her stealing books—well, borrowing, she probably did mean to return them—and what started with a talking to ended up with her and the two librarians laughing over Halfaway’s sad excuses for building codes. I never stood a chance. Fell in love when I was eleven during our outdoor safety course. Happened when I saw her do a somersault outside, wind blowing twenty knots at least, and as I watched her flip my heart flipped with her. Oh, what, you didn’t think I had the capacity for sentiment?
Weiland: No, it’s not that. The Archarrier’s practically a second home to me. I had a hard time imagining…
* * *
Carragher: What, that a bookballoon could drift to the other side of the law? If that’s what you believe, you’re too deep in your research to see the world around you. The point is, I loved Amelia. She didn’t love me, she barely even knew me. But it made things simpler, I thought. I could ignore everyone else and focus on my other passion—flying. It didn’t hurt that she wanted to be a pilot, too.
* * *
We were both accepted into the Flight Academy at the Hub. Came as no surprise, in her case, but mine raised some eyebrows. It took ten years of grit on my part to earn those surprises. Once she and I were at the academy… I think it was only when we were both cadets did she see me. See me as a real person. I know it sounds terrible, but most of us simply caved when it came to what she wanted. And she was good enough to deserve the special treatment, or so we told ourselves. But once we were both cadets, we were rivals in a real sense. And maybe, in me, she saw real competition. We became friends. Then, more than friends. I never told her about how I felt, though. That side of things, the emotional side of things, didn’t seem like something she wanted. And, well…