by Jason Letts
“Leave it all up to me,” Crimshaw said before his master attached himself to the machine. “I’ve plotted our course and we’ll be there before you know it. Nothing will distract us from completing the task at hand. We thank you for making this sacrifice for us.”
“Leave me be,” he muttered. “I have no need of you now. When will this poor fool’s strife come to an end? It’s un-bear-able.”
Crimshaw cleared his throat as Arent stretched out his strong, bulky arms and reached into the metallic orbs. The muscles from his shoulder to his forearm stiffened when he took hold, and soon a glimmer of energy pulsed into and out of his skin. The surge grew until a brilliant flash wove down the length of his arms, twisting in a spectrum of blues, purples, and oranges. Instantly, the turbine started turning, the generator began to charge, and the fixtures in the ceiling cast light down on the entire room.
Outside, the propeller jerked in its first sign of life, churning through the water and giving those who continued to watch something to cheer about. But Arent just put his head down, resigned to the monotony of his task, and Crimshaw backed out to the room’s only entrance. Placing his hands firmly on the door, he pulled it closed, locked it, and went about calling for the loading of the ship and preparing for its imminent launch.
Meanwhile, Mira, Chucky, and Vern climbed into large wooden crates at the strangely empty farm. Every scrap of vegetation had been loaded into crates and stacked along the entrance. It turned out there weren’t any empty crates, and so the three stowaways would have to get in close quarters with a variety of vegetables. Vern gingerly dipped his foot into a heap of tomatoes, exhaling his discontent.
“Well, you wanted to be doing something, and now we’re doing it,” Mira teased him while Vern picked up a tomato and motioned to throw it. “No! Don’t do that. We can’t leave any evidence. Just squish yourself in there!”
“Can’t I at least have the crate full of oranges?” he groaned.
“No, you can’t,” Mira instructed, grinning. “I’m in charge of our strategy and so I need to be with the oranges.”
She started to peel one and tossed the rind back into the crate. Taking a big bite, Mira wasn’t quiet about her enjoyment of it. Close by, Chucky waded in a crate of carrots.
“I’m going to have night vision!” he gloated, holding bundles of carrots.
“OK, but no snacking until I’ve put you in the ship,” Aoi warned. “They know we’re not bringing any rabbits aboard.”
They could already hear people coming from the shipyard, and it wouldn’t be long until other ship workers came for the crates. Quickly, Mira dove in and pulled over the cover, which Aoi nailed shut. Chucky plopped himself down, snapping a few carrots. He barely fit, but Aoi managed to get the lid shut.
Vern carefully sunk down into the pool of tomatoes. The juice started to leak through the sides. Aoi put her hand on his shoulder to squeeze him down a bit, and then he reached up to set his hand onto hers. They looked at each other for a moment before Vern slung some tomato juice at her.
“Eww!” she squealed. “Get in there.”
She pounded in the last nails and then her special cargo was all ready to go. Off in the distance, she could already see people carting fresh water out to the boat. Rather than wait for anyone else to come and jeopardize her operation, Aoi got started right away.
“OK, now this is it. You have to be quiet. Hmm, which one first?”
Lifting up Chucky’s crate and hearing him roll around inside, Aoi moved him around to the back of the pile. She did the same with Vern, and then only Mira’s crate was left away from the others.
“You are the one who put all of this together. So it’s got to start with you,” Aoi said.
“OK,” came Mira’s muffled voice from within the crate. Her lips were smacking.
Aoi stood next to the crate, which was half as tall as she was, and put her hands on each side. In one swift motion, she lifted it up over her head, causing Mira to tumble to the side. Taking a deep breath, they started through the farm gate and toward the shipyard.
Shipbuilders bumped into them as soon as they came around the first tree, but Aoi kept her eyes down and plowed ahead with her load. As long as they didn’t pick up Chucky or Vern and hide them somewhere within the ship, everything would be fine. But to make sure that didn’t happen, Aoi had to hurry.
All around the camp, the shipbuilders carried supplies through the dusty paths and tropical trails to the dock and the waiting ship. Getting there first would make it easier to slip upstairs and carry out their scheme unseen, and Aoi was determined to do it. Pumping her legs, she motored past those carrying water. All of the jostling in the crate tossed Mira around, rattling her back and forth against the oranges and wooden walls.
A smile came to Aoi’s face after she cut off a guy carrying an armful of swords and spears and climbed the steps to the dock. Down the way she saw the open bridge against the end of the peer, and the only thing that stood in the way of depositing her first stowaway was a long row of wooden planks.
Cruising on and lowering the crate so it rested against her chest, Aoi struggled to position the crate so it would easily fit in through the entranceway. The crate pressed against her cheek, making it so she could barely see the looming ship much less the cracks in the enfeebled boardwalk. Taking one step, her foot went right through the plank, causing her to crash into the water.
In a second she was underwater, and the bulky crate was sinking against the surface. One strong stroke brought her back up and she gasped for air. Pieces of the disintegrated dock floated all around.
“What’s going on?” Mira cried, starting to bang on the outside of the crate.
“Shh!” Aoi said amidst a gasp for air.
“Who are you talking to?” questioned the guy holding the swords, who stood just behind the gaping section of the dock. A long row of porters stalled behind.
“I was talking to you. I thought you were laughing at me,” she covered, and the guy just shook his head. Far up above, Crimshaw poked his head over the side of the ship’s top deck.
“That dock is brand new! What is going on here?” he wailed.
Aoi was in no position to answer, and she was more concerned about Mira and the rapidly sinking crate than anything else. Treading water with one hand, she grunted and strained when she lifted the crate and pushed it up on the dock beyond the collapsed area. Crimshaw pulled his head back and she knew he was coming down to do something about this new snag in their plans.
Running into him now was the last thing she wanted, and so Aoi scrambled up one of the pillars supported the dock and pulled herself over the edge. Everything else seemed so sturdy and stable, but those few boards looked like they’d been withered down to toothpicks. Ignoring the commotion from the other porters, Aoi lifted the crate and swerved right into the ship’s belly, leaving a trail of water droplets behind.
She tried to think about how many floors there were from the top and how best to avoid Crimshaw, the ship’s irate captain, but there was nothing to do but just hustle through the cramped passageways, adjusting and twisting the crate to make it fit. She came to the stairs and took them two at a time, surprised Mira wasn’t screaming from the sharp knocks.
Once at the top of the stairs, she turned around down the corridor and froze just in time to hear Crimshaw barreling down the stairs behind her. He shuffled right by, making Aoi breath a sigh of relief. Trying to stay quiet, she carried Mira to the end and set her in front of the last door.
Opening it, yet more relief came to her when she found it just like she’d left it. No one had fallen through the ceiling, and the one crate and the saw were still in the same place. Carrying Mira in, she set her down against the side wall.
“You did great. Now go get the others!” Mira urged, and Aoi could tell she was happy to resume snacking.
Returning to the dock, Aoi peeked her head around and saw they were already laying planks over the hole to allow supplies to be carried o
ver. Once a stream of supply-carrying shipbuilders flowed freely, Aoi slipped through them and past Crimshaw’s watchful eyes. Descending the docks, she raced back to the farm, passing several crates identical to the ones carrying her friends.
It seemed like only an instant later when she had Vern in her arms. He made his crate all the more heavier, but it was still no problem for Aoi. Leaving Chucky for last in the dwindling pile of wooden crates, she tore back through the camp and pushed her way through the line until there was nothing to do but wait her turn. As much as she knew it was impossible for them to be talking, it still stung that he was so close and hadn’t said a word.
Aoi passed over the loose wooden planks covering the hole she had fallen through. She still felt wet all over, but there was nothing that couldn’t be ignored for the sake of their mission. Though people in front of her carried their loads back to the storage bays, Aoi held her breath and turned up the stairway to the floor above. Fortunately everyone else was too busy to hassle her about it.
Stepping into the front-most room with Mira safely tucked away, Aoi brought in Vern’s crate and set it down near the back wall by the window. She looked to the door and prepared to leave, but then she turned back to the crate leaking tomato juice.
“You want to aim down here,” she said, knocking against the lower end of the side facing the wall and then pushing it as close as possible against it. “If you make a mistake, it’s the propeller for me.”
A harrowing note rung in her voice. She wanted to say more but checked the impulse for fear of saying something she would regret. What if he didn’t care that she met the metal blades now that her job was done?
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. When have I ever made a mistake?” Vern gloated.
“It’ll be OK, Aoi,” Mira comforted her from within the other crate.
“OK,” Aoi breathed, and she ducked out of the room and closed the door tight. By the time she left the room, the boat was now filled with people. It worried her how difficult it would be to slip into this room one more time with people constantly around. Most of those who now entered were members of the army, who congregated on top of the ship to celebrate their good fortune. Big crates from the farm continued to pass her, but Aoi couldn’t be sure if any of them contained Chucky. She sprinted all the way back to the entranceway to the fallow fields where the farm had been and found that not a single crate remained.
Feeling uneasy to the point of nausea, Aoi stared blankly at the empty stretch of dirt where the crates had been. What if Chucky got himself caught after assuming she had been the one to lift him? She dreaded what would happen to him if someone found him where he wasn’t supposed to be. This seemed like a terrible turn of events, and she had no idea what to do. Only Mira would have an answer, and Aoi started back empty handed as fast as she could.
But as she came to the end of the trail of her own footprints in the dirt, Aoi saw the ship’s drawbridge had been raised and the porters had been tossed out with the rest of the abandoned slaves. The feeling that things were already spiraling out of control ballooned inside of her. There would be no way to get on the ship and consult with Mira or figure out what to do. Her only option was to follow through with their plan and hope it all works out in the end.
It looked like the boat would leave any minute. The reveling soldiers on top of the ship cast off the moorings and took to mocking the plain-faced yeomen who had given them their labor. It still didn’t register to the slaves that they were being left with nothing, and as things stood that realization might never come.
Aoi jogged around the channel to get to the beach on the side of the ship away from the dock. She trotted closer to the crashing waves coming from this limitless expanse of water. The breeze from the sea blew through her hair and between her fingers. For all the people at the dock just a short ways away, she seemed altogether alone.
Walking out as the ground dove under the colossal liquid mass, the water swallowed her with each step, first her ankles, then her knees, her hips, then her shoulders, until her entire body sunk beneath the surface. Pushing off from the gooey floor, Aoi came up for air and started swimming out in front of the ship. If people saw her, they showed no notice. Perhaps she was already concealed within the undulating waves. Fluttering her feet and clawing at the sea, she struggled to keep her head above water.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw the ship pointed directly at her. It was quite a ways away but still so big and tall. She treaded water, washing her arms back and forth, trying not to think about what might be in this bottomless expanse with her. She felt something touch her leg, and it was enough to make her jerk, but it was just a harmless piece of seaweed.
A droning hum came from the ship and Aoi knew there was nothing left to do but wait for it to come to her. The propeller spun, and the boat started to drift forward past the dock. There was no waving and no tears from those gathered at the boatyard, just many, many watchful eyes.
Aoi started to think about how they’d never practiced something like this before. Would Vern be able to draw her up through the ship’s thick wooden hull? Even as she held onto her confidence it would be OK, she wondered what it would mean if the boat slipped by her and the propeller ripped her to bits. What would it have all been for, her life?
The boat grew closer and closer, cutting through the waves at the very beginning of its long journey. Aoi floated on the surface spreading her arms and legs, trying to keep herself calm so she would be as light as possible. The moment would come so soon, and then she would know whether or not she had reached the end. How hard it would be for Mira and Vern to accomplish their task without her?
Staring up at the bright sky and the sun hung in the middle of it, the growing hum alerted her to the incoming vessel. It would pass just to the right of her, and she would be just below the front most window. Aoi held her breath as the foremost mast of the ship broke her field of view.
A wave swept her up and prepared to drop her back to the surface, but instead of falling she began to drift upward, the water tickling her toes before she left it completely. Floating through the air, she fell toward the ship’s hull, just near the very first window. Aoi took a deep breath and closed her eyes, relieved about what had happened and yet nervous about what was still to come.
She caught the outside of the ship’s hull with her hands, and soon her entire body was flushed up against it. A quick look to the top deck told her no one had noticed. Stuck to the moving ship as it rushed out to sea, the wind fiercely blew against her hair, tousling it all around. The spraying water got in her eyes, forcing her to twist her head back and take one last look at the shore they were leaving behind.
Stretching her arm, she grabbed the round window fixture. Hanging there and moving out to sea, the assembly on the beach receded into the distance but was still very distinct. Aoi was pretty sure she could see Vika with her shoulders slumping. While it was thrilling to ride the ship from the outside, the time to get inside had come. She was about to smash through the glass when she saw something strange on the beach.
Her free hand still balled in a fist, Aoi squinted to perceive swaying branches and shrubs just a short distance from the dock. Something spilled out of it, a chunky young boy, who tottered forward, lost his balance, and spilled onto the sand. Aoi’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. The boy rose, pulled up his britches, and stumbled toward the water’s edge. Staring at the ship, he held out his hands as if for a great hug and ominously held them there. Even though they were so far away, Aoi felt he was looking directly at her.
Rattled to the core, Aoi hastily punched through the window. The painful impact made her hand smart, and the shattering glass flew in all directions. Dragging herself to the window, Aoi cleared away enough of the glass so she could pull herself through. She slid through the small opening and spilled onto the wooden floor of the storage room.
Seconds later, she reached for the lids to the crates and tore them away, freeing Mira and Vern. From t
he second they made eye contact, it was clear their plan was already in serious trouble.
“Where’s Chucky?” Mira asked, brushing orange peels from her shoulder.
“That’s not our only problem,” Aoi retorted. “I just saw Goober.”
Chapter 14: Stowed Away
“And you’re absolutely sure that’s who you saw?” Mira asked Aoi, looking directly into her eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” Vern cut in. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen him. It can’t be.”
“It was Goober. The way he waddled and fumbled around. It was. And then he had his arms out in this strange way. I have no idea what he was doing,” Aoi jabbered, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold.
The sound of voices came from the hallway. They all jerked their heads to the door and then huddled closer. Vern still had slimy residue from the tomatoes speckling him.
“Maybe it’s not that big a deal. He didn’t do anything all that impressive when he was following us around,” Vern conjectured.
“He’s one of the Specials,” Aoi reminded him, “one of the eight who were deemed too dangerous to be allowed in normal society.”
“I wish it was something we could brush off, but I’m afraid it’s not,” Mira agreed. “Now we know for sure he was the one who disintegrated the panel in the engine room. He’s trying to sabotage this whole thing.”
“When we fell in the water, the dock had just been worn away to nothing. It must’ve been him too,” Aoi added.
Mira took a deep breath, trying to think of what this horrible new prospect meant for their endangered mission. As it hit her, the pressure pounded in her head and the only way to try and release it was to say it.
“I think it’s obvious now,” Mira stuttered, swallowing. “We’re hurtling out to sea…on a ship that’s bound to collapse.”
After an intense moment of stillness, the extent of the danger sunk in. Vern shook his head, wincing, and then went to the walls. He peered at the wood from close up.
