Seabound (Seabound Chronicles Book 1)

by Jordan Rivet

  Dinner took place in the Salmon Lounge on the Emerald. A second ferry-load of people had been brought over from the Catalina. Dax and the other guides shepherded them to the tables, explaining that the Galaxians would eat in other dining halls. The restaurant was just big enough to hold all the visitors. Adele, the statuesque woman from the reception desk, gave a short speech reminding everyone to ask if they needed anything at all, from water to use of the hospital facilities.

  Waiters in white shirts brought out the food, earning surprised looks from the Catalinans. The waiters were solicitous, and one even offered to drape Esther’s napkin (cloth, no patches) in her lap for her. Everyone sat a little straighter, acted a little more formal in these circumstances. Esther had the vaguest memory of going to a fancy restaurant in San Diego once to celebrate something for her dad’s work at the university. She had been four or five years old. Her mother had pulled her hair into a too-tight bun, and Esther had accidentally eaten the fancy pat of butter, thinking it was white chocolate.

  There was butter on this table too, to go with the roasted garlic potatoes and salmon. Esther ate slowly, savoring each hot bite. The potatoes oozed flavor and memories. The portions were small, but Esther made hers last for as long as she could. There was a dreamy air around the table. Everyone seemed completely wrapped up in the smells and tastes.

  As they ate, a quartet of string musicians played in the corner. Esther hadn’t heard violins since her childhood. There was a rich, sophisticated tone to the sound, and it, like so many other things on the Galaxy ships, made her feel small.

  After the meal was over, the Catalinans slowly made their way back to the ferry. Adele had offered to find them all places to sleep, but no one wanted to go against Judith’s instructions. However, they made plans to bring the Catalina in closer the next morning and temporarily connect it to the Emerald with one of the retractable bridges.

  As Esther waited for the second ferry to arrive, Neal shuffled up to join the group. She extricated herself from Cally, who was telling her for the third time about how Dax had asked her to watch a movie at the cinema with him the next day. She made her way through the crowds, who took no notice of her now that they had been supplied with plenty of clean water and the best meal of their seabound lives.

  “Neal. How’d it go with Marianna?”

  “Shh, Es, not so loud.” Neal’s eyes were wide, and his face was almost as pale as it had been when he first saw Marianna.

  “Uh-oh. What’s up?” They stepped over to the reception desk. Adele was busy chatting to a ring of admirers at the other end.

  “She’s married. Marianna is married already,” Neal said, voice cracking.

  “Aw rust. I’m sorry, Neal.” Esther could see the pain in her friend’s face. “Why didn’t she mention it sooner? Did she not realize you were interested in her?”

  Neal shook his head, staring vacantly. “She knew I was in love with her . . . and she didn’t tell me.”

  “Maybe she didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Esther said. “She probably thought you’d never meet.”

  “The ferry’s here,” someone near the door called.

  The crowd started shuffling toward the exit, pushing Esther and Neal closer together.

  “That’s just it,” he said. “She didn’t think we’d ever meet . . . but she’s in love with me too.”

  “She said that?”

  “She as good as said it. Maybe I was some sort of fantasy escape from her husband when she was saying all those sweet things on the radio, but she really has feelings for me. I’m sure of it!”

  Esther frowned. “Shouldn’t she have told you when she found out we were coming?”

  “We haven’t talked much since then because Manny’s been monitoring me.”

  “Still,” Esther said, glancing up to make sure no one was paying attention to them, “she could have dropped it in casually. It’s not really fair to you.”

  “She’s been worrying over what to do,” Neal said, “and how to tell me when I got here. She said it’s all she’s been thinking about.” His voice sounded hopeful.

  “Well . . . at least she likes you.” Esther patted Neal awkwardly on the back.

  They made their way toward the exit, which was becoming less congested as the Catalinans crowded onto the ferry that had pulled up alongside the Emerald.

  “Yeah, I’m sure she does,” Neal said. “Rust, I’ve been agonizing over whether or not she was going to like me when I should have been agonizing over whether or not to ask her to leave her husband for me.”

  Esther stopped short. Someone knocked into her in the press of people.

  “Wow, wait a second. You didn’t ask her to do that, did you?”

  “Not officially, no, but I’m thinking about it,” Neal said. “He doesn’t pay enough attention to her. I’m sure she’d be happier with me.”

  “Neal, they’re married. It’s over.”

  Marriage vows were taken very seriously on the Catalina. There had been affairs over the years, but people looked unkindly on them. When you were destined to live on the same floating island for the rest of your life, you couldn’t risk damaging too many relationships. Esther could almost see Neal talking himself into this, though, as they made their way onto the ferry and found seats near the stern.

  “He’s not right for her,” Neal said. “She just married him because there weren’t any other choices.”

  “You’re lying to yourself,” Esther said. “Look at how many people live here. I’m sure he wasn’t her only option.” She gestured toward the lights of the flotilla beyond their window. There was no way a woman like Marianna only had one choice amongst all these people. There had to be more to the story.

  Neal sighed and slumped back against the hard ferry seat. “I don’t know what to do, Esther. We had dinner together tonight, and I’m going to meet her in her broadcast tower tomorrow if Judith lets me get away.”

  “Just be careful. We still don’t know much about this place.”

  The Catalina felt smaller when they returned. The sky was still clear. They could even see the moon. Esther was quiet when she returned to their cabin, where Simon waited. There was so much to process about the day. She wasn’t sure what to feel about the Galaxy. It was at once enticing and confusing. She imagined what it would have been like to grow up there, surrounded by all those people. She tried to describe what she’d seen to her father, but words seemed inadequate. He’d have to see for himself. She thought about discussing Neal’s predicament with Simon too, but she stayed quiet. It would be easier if Neal decided Marianna was not everything he’d dreamed she was. Perhaps he’d find someone else to love. The Galaxy Flotilla was full of possibilities.

  Chapter 13—Galaxy Gardens

  The Catalina moored alongside the Emerald Galaxy first thing the next morning, and its inhabitants poured across the newly extended bridge. They ventured into the city of ships, marveling at the huge vessels, the fleet of smaller boats, the facilities and resources. For days they reveled in the chance to look at something new, something that wasn’t the same old corridors and the vast expanse of the sea. They only returned to the Catalina at night.

  The residents of the Galaxy met them with indifference. They went about their business, sidestepping the groups of Catalinans milling in the corridors with looks of faint irritation. The Guest Services staff, on the other hand, attended to their every need. They found new shoes for some, medical care for others. Each morning they would wait to accompany groups from the Catalina around the Flotilla. Few of the Catalinans wanted to explore on their own, but if they did they just had to show their Guest cards to receive complimentary meals and transportation.

  The Guest Services people were quick to answer questions about the Galaxy’s customs and facilities—or at least some of them. Esther’s questions about the work crews, the engines, and the oil tankers were deflected. Instead, the guides would point her to the dinners, the leisure activities, the distractions. They wanted
the visitors to see the cleanest, shiniest version of the Galaxy possible.

  At the first opportunity Simon asked Adele if he could see the gardening and farming facilities. The Catalina hadn’t been able to collect enough dirt and seed to grow anything on a large scale. Some ships managed it by sending expeditions to the ravaged coastlines or happening upon islands, but the Catalina was too ungainly for such excursions. Besides, gardens required a lot of sunlight, something that was never guaranteed these days. He asked Esther to go along with him on their third morning at the Flotilla. She hadn’t managed to sneak out of the cabin before he woke up.

  “Is Penelope coming?”

  “Esther . . .”

  “I’ve been perfectly nice to her, Dad. I’m just asking.”

  “No. She’s taking an extra shift in the nursery today,” Simon said.

  “Okay. I’d love to see the gardens.”

  Esther pulled on her boots. She hadn’t exactly been hostile to Mrs. Noah. She was sure of it. But she had been avoiding the woman since catching her in bed with her father.

  “Doesn’t Penelope want to see the church?” Esther asked, making a small effort to be friendly. “I hear they have a real one on the Crown. And it’s Sunday. That’s a church day, right?”

  “She talks about going to visit the church, but I think she’s afraid to.”

  Simon wrapped a green scarf around his neck and pulled his own shoes from beneath his bunk. The hole in the right toe had opened again.

  “Afraid?” Esther said. “She runs the church meetings here still.”

  “True, but they abandoned traditional liturgy long ago. Mostly they pray together and talk about the End of Days. I think Penelope fears she’s been doing something wrong.”

  “I can think of a thing or two she’s been doing wrong,” Esther grumbled.

  Her dad did not react, though he must have heard her in the small space. They left their little cabin together. Esther kept her eyes on the flattened carpet as they passed the Newtons’ room.

  Esther and Simon joined a dozen other Catalinans on one of the bigger water taxis. The wind was crisp as they sped amongst the Galaxy ships. They passed through the shadow of an oil tanker on their way to the cargo ship. It had a thick coat of rust on the hull. This close, Esther could see there were men stationed at regular intervals along the tanker. They leaned casually, but their silhouettes included the jagged outlines of weapons above their shoulders, gun barrels sprouting like spines. No one else in the boat seemed to notice.

  The cargo ships were long and flat, slightly shorter than the big cruise ships. They were arranged side by side, forming an almost perfect square. Cranes and shipping containers dotted the iron landscape. People scrambled over the ships, men and women with hard muscles and harder faces. Their clothes were noticeably more worn than those of the Emerald Galaxy residents.

  Esther asked the water taxi skipper about them as they made their way around the stern of the first vessel.

  “Where do the people who work on the cargo ships live?”

  “Depends. Deckhands and bilge rats bunk where they work.”

  The taxi skipper had a brown tweed hat pulled low over his eyes. A thick beard curled at his jowls, but his chin was bare.

  “I thought there was extra space on the cruise ships.”

  “Don’t matter. It’s dirty work. The high-and-mighty types don’t want them spoiling the carpets. They’re all happier round here anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Got their own families, don’t they? Their own friends. Half don’t speak English anyway.” The skipper kept his eyes on the water as they leaned in the wake of a passing vessel.

  “What if they want to move to a nicer ship?” Esther asked, remembering what Dax had said on their first tour.

  “They can apply,” the skipper said. “The ones who do the scientific stuff all move up eventually.”

  “Where would a mechanic live?” Esther asked. She suspected she’d fit in best with the deckhands and bilge rats. She looked to see if her father was listening, but he was deep in conversation with another passenger.

  “How good are you? Every ship needs ’em, but there are a few projects that call for specific skills.”

  “I’m pretty good with energy systems,” Esther said. “Efficiency, that sort of thing.”

  She thought of the generator idea she wanted to work on after she got the desal system sorted out.

  “They’re always needing that, specially when it comes to drinking water.”

  The taxi skipper squinted up at the cargo ship as they bobbed up to the loading platform.

  “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could trade for some new desalination filters and other parts, would you?” Esther asked. “Our system is in bad shape.”

  He looked at her sideways under the brim of his cap. “You’d best speak to Guest Services about that. I just do the people moving.”

  “They haven’t been especially forthcoming, but thanks.” Esther stood as the other passengers began to disembark. “What’s your name, by the way?”

  “Byron.” He took a hand off the wheel to shake hers.

  “Esther Harris.”

  The Catalinans loaded off the boat and climbed another collapsible ladder up to the deck of the cargo ship. At the top, a flat plane formed by multiple vessels spread out before them. “Welcome to the Galaxy Gardens,” said their guide, a glum brunette with a monotonous voice. “My name is Jane, and I’ll be your tour guide for the afternoon. This project supplements our seaweed harvesting to make sure all the inhabitants of the Flotilla get enough nutrients. We have a strict growing schedule to optimize our use of the soil without exhausting it.”

  The group from the Catalina followed their guide along the portside railing to a wide swath of earth. The “field” was sunken deep into the deck, so they couldn’t see it when they first stepped onto the vessel. They looked down in awe at the gorgeous black soil. Esther breathed deeply and caught the calming, loamy smell of the earth beneath the usual salty tang.

  Pillars at the edges of the field were rigged with an awning and a windshield that could be pulled across it when necessary.

  “This protects the soil in high winds,” Jane explained. “And the shield is fitted with artificial sunlight generators so we don’t lose a harvest if there’s a prolonged dark period.”

  “Where did you get the soil in the first place?” Esther asked.

  “Captain Boris took a patrol ship in to Hawaii in the early days.” A swoony smile lit Jane’s face for an instant. “That’s why he became captain of the Crystal after the old one passed. It was so brave. The harbors are very dangerous, you know. But Captain Boris isn’t afraid of anything . . .” Jane trailed off, then gave herself a sudden shake. Her bored expression returned.

  “We have a compost facility on that cargo ship over there with the orange hull,” she intoned. “The harvest is better every year.”

  “Do you produce enough vegetables for everyone to eat them regularly?” Simon asked.

  “That depends on the harvest year and the person’s income level. Naturally, the wealthier inhabitants are able to enjoy the fruits of our labor more frequently,” Jane said without blinking.

  “What do the low-income inhabitants do for nutrients?”

  “The seaweed supply is abundant; it’s usually the cheaper option.”

  The plants were organized in neat sections, stretching all the way to the end of the vessel. Workers filed amongst them with water and shears and baskets, tending the precious vegetation. Their group was standing closest to a tomato plot. Esther remembered tomatoes. The bulbous red fruits were small, but they dripped heavily from the fragile plants.

  Esther was surprised to see Judith walking amongst the plants. David Hawthorne strolled beside her, his back as straight as ever, sweeping his arms over the fields, presumably extolling the virtues of the gardening project. Judith looked grumpy at being taken on yet another sightseeing tour. She’d pulled her
hair back into a severe ponytail, and she kept reaching up to tug it tighter. Hawthorne had been keeping her busy with tours and performances. She’d had dinner with the captains on the Crown every night so far.

  Simon took notes as they walked down the long edge of the field. Adele had given him a completely blank notebook. Esther looked over his shoulder and saw he was already filling it with his tiny handwriting. Now, he sacrificed writing space to sketch some of the features of the gardens. They reached a glass-encased box amidships.

  Simon almost dropped his pen. “It’s a greenhouse,” he told Esther. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard that animated tone in his voice. “I used to study on the picnic tables next to the greenhouse in college. I even brought your mother there a few times when the weather was good.”

  Esther smiled at that. Since she’d discovered the relationship between Simon and Penelope Newton, she’d been watching for any indication that Simon still thought about her mother.

  “What do you think about all this, Dad? The Galaxy Flotilla.”

  They peered in the windows of the greenhouse together. It was crammed with boxes of tiny sprouts. The lime green of new life misted the shelves. A group of women around Esther’s age walked among them, carefully watering the baby plants, coaxing them to life. Esther recognized one of the women. She was the blond who’d been talking with her friends in the Salmon Lounge on their first day. She looked up and saw their tour group, then nudged her companion, the waifish brunette. The woman nodded and set down the can she’d been using to pour water on the plants. She crossed the greenhouse and leaned in to whisper to a tall black woman. She too looked up at the tour group, nodded, and set down her can.

  “It’s an interesting thing they’ve built here,” Simon said. “What they’ve been able to do with their resources is impressive. It’s clear that a lot of planning has gone into making the Flotilla function as it does.”