by Jordan Rivet
“Esther?” Dax turned to her, eyes hopeful as a seal pup’s.
“I don’t know, Dax. Cally likes you, but you don’t know anything about the Catalina. It’s a hard life there. You wouldn’t have a proper library or a cinema or most of the food you’re used to eating.”
“That stuff doesn’t matter,” Dax said.
“And you won’t be able to do any Guest Services–type work. You’d probably end up cleaning decks for the first few years because you don’t have any useful skills.”
“I’ll do anything.” His voice had lost a touch of bravado.
“This whole thing could still be a disaster,” Esther said. “I doubt you’d be allowed to go back to normal if you get caught. It’s a big risk.”
Surprisingly, Dax smiled. “That’s the good thing about having high-status parents. They’ll get me out of trouble if it comes to that.”
He reached up to tug on his hair, then forced his hands to be still.
“All right.” Esther turned to the rest of the group. “So let’s say we find enough people to sail the Lucinda. What kind of weapons do you have?”
Neal blanched at the implication, but Esther knew where this course was taking them. She didn’t like it either, but she’d do anything to help her family. She’d even risk betrayal by David Hawthorne.
“The Galaxy has weapons,” David said, “but they’re kept under guard in stockpiles around the Flotilla. We’ve received reports of piracy groups becoming more aggressive in the last few years. It’s unlikely they’d attack the Flotilla, but we’re prepared just in case.”
“Pirates?” Dax’s eyes were wide.
“Not like Robert Louis Stevenson pirates, Dax,” said David. “I know what kind of books you read. But not everyone responded to the new world order with as much altruism as these Catalina folks.”
“Still, that’s scary,” Dax said. “Why haven’t we heard about it?”
“Another thing the captains have hushed up,” Marianna grumbled.
David nodded. “The security detail operates out of the Galaxy Luxe, but their stockpile is always guarded.”
“Isn’t the Luxe the one that got damaged in the storm?” Neal asked. “Maybe we could sneak in and pick up some spare ammunition while they’re doing repairs or something.” His face was tight with worry.
David shook his head. “If anything, it’d be more difficult because there will be more people around and their schedule will be abnormal.”
“So how do we hijack the ship, even if we do manage to line up an entire crew, without weapons?” Esther said.
For the second time that night, the door burst open. “What in the name of all that is holy is going on in here?” Paris stepped into the tower.
Marianna instinctively took a step away from Neal. “Paris! What are you doing here?”
“I can’t visit my own wife’s workplace?” Paris surveyed the speechless group. “You look like a right group of conspirators,” he said benignly. “Planning a mutiny, are we?” Everyone looked around at each other, still shocked by his sudden entrance. Paris cocked his head to the side. “It seems I’m onto something. What’s going on?”
“We’re . . . we’re . . .” Esther didn’t know what to say.
“Just making friendly conversation, Paris. No need to worry about us,” David said smoothly.
Esther was amazed at how quickly he could turn it on.
“I’m not an idiot, Hawthorne,” Paris said pleasantly.
Esther stepped forward, recovering her voice. Paris had helped her before, and they needed a larger crew.
“We’re making a plan to save the Catalina. The captains won’t help.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised.” He sighed. “Well, what’s the plan, and how can I help?”
“We’re going to hijack the Lucinda.”
The entire tower shook with the sound of Paris’s laughter.
Chapter 23—The Crew
PARIS, IT TURNED OUT, had a better sense of who might be dissatisfied with life on the Galaxy Flotilla than Dax. He was in contact with the artists and the free spirits of the Flotilla, the people who weren’t afraid to question the status quo. More importantly, he was also in touch with the people who were suffering the worst under the current regime. The workers out on the cargo ships had been getting the short end of the stick for too long. He agreed to get the word out to a select group and arrange a meeting.
Surprisingly, Adele from Guest Services was the leader of the disgruntled Galaxian contingent. Like David, she’d spent too much time extolling the virtues of the Flotilla. She knew the full extent of the illusion.
It made Esther nervous to notify all of these people about what they were up to. She didn’t know them or why they might care about her mission. She still didn’t know if it would work. The plan had become very big very quickly. She worried that she was missing some key element. She talked through the steps with the others, focusing on the practical issues, and forced down her doubts. David was all business, giving no further hints about why he had decided to help them. They worked late into the night, and Esther slept on the cot in the satellite center beside a pile of Flotilla maps.
The group met in the Mist’s theater the morning after the rendezvous. By now the injured had moved back to their own cabins or to the medical facility on the Crystal. Esther stood at the front of the theater, favoring her good foot. The conspirators trickled in. Their eyes darted around the room as they entered. Without fail, each person looked back at the double doors at least once.
Adele arrived first, gliding down the aisle with her blond hair rippling like sunlight. She smiled serenely at Esther as she took her seat. A middle-aged woman wearing a uniform of checkered pants, a yellowing white top, and an apron followed. Dax only managed to bring two friends: Connor from the Crown restaurant, and a chubby boy named Raymond. All three were young and enthusiastic, but Esther suspected they didn’t know much about seafaring.
Marianna came in alone, her eyes puffy and red. Neal wasn’t far behind, but he sat down on the opposite side of the theater, ignoring the people around him. Neither one looked like they had slept. Neal caught Esther’s eye and shook his head. It seemed Marianna would be staying with the Flotilla.
Byron the water taxi driver strode in next, pulling his cap off as he entered. Half a dozen crewmen from the oil tankers followed, rough men with dirty fingernails and muscular shoulders. One, whose dark skin stretched tight over heavy-looking biceps, sat down near willowy Adele. She nodded at him. Esther realized it was the man who’d caught her sneaking around on the oil tanker. So this was why he hadn’t turned her in. He wanted out too.
The majority of the attendees were men, until four younger women arrived in a pack. The women marched straight to the second row and immediately struck up a conversation with Esther. The ringleader was Zoe, the protester from the gardening ship. She had a greenish bruise under her eye and a flaky scab from a split lip.
“We were going to join the Amsterdam Coalition,” Zoe told her, a glint in her eye. “But Adele said there was something better in the works. We’ve had it with the injustice of the Galaxy.”
The handle of a knife was visible in Zoe’s waistband, and she kept reaching down to thumb it, as if she wasn’t sure it would still be there. She had a bright purple scarf over her straw-blond hair and wore a matching purple tunic.
Zoe introduced her friends: two sisters, Eva and Anita, with close-cropped brown hair and pale faces, and a lanky black girl named Toni. Toni had been part of the greenhouse incident, as had one of the sisters, though Esther wasn’t sure which one. She asked them why they were here.
“I’m tired of everyone pretending we’re on vacation,” Toni said. Her brown eyes flitted around the dinner theater. “It’s so fake.”
“I want to be able to change things,” Anita said quietly, “and change them for the better.”
“No one listens to us around here,” Eva said.
Anita nodded in agreement, pick
ing at the seat in front of her with small, pale fingers.
“I can’t promise they’ll always listen on the Catalina,” Esther said, “but they won’t lie to you.”
Zoe shrugged and pulled her purple scarf tighter. “Fair enough. Anything to get out of this circus.”
“What happened to you after that thing on the greenhouse?” Esther asked.
Zoe laughed. “Have you seen my bruise?” She gestured proudly to her eye. “That was great. We’ve been waiting for a tour group to come through. We want people to see what the Flotilla is really like. Just because they like to show off their vegetable gardens, doesn’t mean we actually get to eat any.”
“But the guide said—”
“The guides say all kinds of things,” Toni said. “I used to be one. I told a group from another ship that the vegetables are too expensive for normal people, and the captains reserve the best of everything for themselves and their cronies. Next thing you know, I’m working in the greenhouse with these gals.”
“So you got fired?” Esther asked.
“Fired and fined, yeah,” Toni said. “Now I couldn’t afford to leave even if I did think they’d actually give up oil for chips.”
“So did you all get fired after the greenhouse then?” Esther asked. “Or demoted? What’s the next level down?”
Zoe chuckled. “Nah, they brought out the big guns. Dropped me in the locker for a few days so I could ‘cool down,’ they said.”
Esther nodded, the pieces coming together. “So the locker is some sort of jail? Is it on one of the oil tankers, by any chance?”
“Yeah, you’re catching on,” Zoe said. “The entrance is in the deckhouse, but the locker is actually one of the empty tanks in the hull. I still smell like oil.” She sounded proud.
Eva spoke up, her voice worried. “We’ve pushed them too far. There have been a few real disappearances. Not too many, but enough to have us worried.”
Her sister nodded solemnly.
Zoe grinned. “They’re right. When we heard about this meeting, we figured it was as good a time as any to make our break.”
For someone who’d recently spent several days in an empty oil tank, Zoe seemed remarkably nonchalant. All four of the women displayed the attitude Esther had just a few months ago: the desire for something different, the thirst to prove themselves. Now all Esther wanted was to get home. She wondered if they would feel the same way after they left the Galaxy behind.
She looked around the room, counting twenty-one people in addition to her and Neal. All had put themselves in danger to be here. She probably didn’t know the extent of what they had experienced on the Galaxy to drive them to this decision. Some, like Zoe, must have reached a breaking point. She hoped their plan would work.
Paris took to the stage and coughed delicately. He smiled at the assembly. “Greetings, one and all. Thank you for gathering here on this fine morning. We are plotting an operation that could put each of you at great risk. If we fail, you could be in desperate trouble with the captains.” He paused. “If we succeed, it is unlikely you will ever see your friends and family on the Galaxy Flotilla again. If you are not prepared to take that risk, then I implore you to leave now and forget you ever attended this meeting. I won’t be offended.”
He winked, but it was an exaggerated gesture, a bit too dramatic. Esther realized he was nervous. Paris had decided to stay with the Galaxy. He’d told Esther it was where he belonged. It struck her that Paris was taking the biggest risk of all of them by staying behind.
She looked around the theater, weighing the reactions on people’s faces. Zoe and Toni were more determined than ever. The two sisters still looked worried. Byron tugged absently at the edges of his beard. Dax’s friend Connor looked green in the face, but he remained seated.
Paris spoke again, voice ringing across the theater: “The Catalina, a stranger ship that has been in our company for a few weeks, is lost at sea. Their water system is damaged. There are a thousand people on board who will suffer a slow death by dehydration if we do not come to their rescue. Our mission is to commandeer one of the smaller vessels, a ship that is not vital to the survival of any of our friends here in the Flotilla, in order to bring help to this distressed community.”
Dax’s friend Raymond raised his hand. “Excuse me, sir. What do you mean, commandeer?”
Paris smiled. “We shall steal it. You’ve all contributed a lot to the Galaxy over the years and received precious little in return, but now you can make a clean break. If we do this properly, you will be free from the Galaxy with a ship of your own and new allies on the Catalina. Now, David Hawthorne is here to fill us in on some of the details.”
There was a stir in the crowd as David took the stage. The oil workers grumbled, and Toni whispered something to Zoe.
David still wore his crisp black shirt from the night before. His handsome face was calm as he addressed the group. “Good morning. We’ve learned that later this afternoon—”
“Hold on a minute,” the muscular crewman from the oil tanker said, getting to his feet. “What the hell is he doing here? We’ve had to listen to his lies for years. Now we’re supposed to believe he’s one of us?”
“Dirk is right. He’ll just go to the captains to report on us!” someone called from the back row.
Other voices rose around the theater.
“Paris, you promised us this meeting would be safe.”
“Captain-sympathizing scum.”
“Shut up, everyone,” Byron shouted. “We’re all taking a risk being here, and we knew it before we came. Let’s at least listen to what he has to say.”
David nodded in thanks. He abandoned his usual speech-giving posture and sat down at the edge of the stage, rolling up his sleeves.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’ve been the voice of the captains for a few years now. I repeat their words, but I don’t necessarily agree with all of them. For all their talk of a new civilization and a more hopeful future, they just want people to work for them and build up this city for their own benefit.” There were a few nods in the crowd, but most faces remained impassive. He would have to give them more. David continued: “I know you have no reason to trust me, so I’m going to tell you something I heard the captains discussing in private recently. If they find out I told you, I will be in worse trouble than you for being here. So you’ll have my secret and I’ll have yours. Deal?”
One by one, the people around the auditorium nodded. David looked each one in the eye, waiting until even Dirk the oilman nodded and sat down. Finally, he looked straight at Esther and continued: “For the last six months, the captains have been receiving transmissions from land.” The word “land” sent a mutter through the assembly. It was like a talisman. “Apparently, the weather has stabilized enough that survivors are growing crops. It isn’t much, but there’s talk of rebuilding. There’s even evidence that the people who survived on land are more numerous than we first believed. The captains ordered the communications teams to keep the reports quiet, ostensibly so that everyone doesn’t get their hopes up too soon. In truth, they don’t want a mass return to land. They are in control here. There’s no way to guarantee their power if everyone moves home. The captains want to keep us in the dark, to maintain the status quo, even though there’s a chance we could start over.” David’s voice took on a touch of the orator again. “It’s a scary prospect, moving to land, but everyone should be able to make that decision for themselves. People deserve the truth.” He waited a few heartbeats. “Oh, and Eugene is the secret head of the captains’ informants, so watch out for him.”
This time the rumbling in the crowd lasted longer. This was real news: actual communication with land, not just rumors and wishes. Byron twisted his cap in his hands like he was trying to wring salt water from it. Adele’s face was perfectly still. The four young women put their heads together, Zoe speaking in a rapid whisper. Toni was nodding. Eva and Anita, the two sisters, exchanged glances and seemed to come to a sil
ent agreement.
Esther’s head buzzed like an electrical storm. Messages from land! More people than they thought had survived. This was game-changing news. If the weather had recovered enough for farming, they could seriously talk about leaving the sea. Their ships wouldn’t last forever. On land, everything would change.
David allowed the conversations to work themselves out. He looked over at Esther again. Finally, she smiled at him.
After a few minutes, David held up a hand for quiet. “Now that you know my secret, I hope you’ll trust me. After we save the Catalina, we can try to contact the people on land. We’ll have our own ship and the freedom to go where we wish. Alternatively, the Catalina seems like a nice community. It wouldn’t be a bad place to live for a while, if anyone wants to stay on. Everyone’s equal there.” Several people in the crowd nodded at this. David clapped his hands together once. “But now we need to talk business. I’ve learned that the patrol ship Lucinda will be transporting replacement reverse-osmosis filters for the desalination system from the hold of the Mist to the water ship this afternoon. Those filters are crucial to the Catalina’s survival, but we’ll also bring them supplies, fuel, and water to get them back on their feet. Adele will coordinate, but we need help from you guys on the oil crew. We need to get everyone onto the Lucinda with the supplies and then get rid of their crew. She’s fast and in good shape, so we should be able to outrun the destroyer as long as we get a head start. With any luck, we’ll be far enough away by the time they mobilize that it won’t be worthwhile to give chase, given the oil it would cost.” He paused as whispered conversations in the theater picked up again. “We’ll need to wait until she’s nearly alongside the water ship before we make our move. Otherwise, we’ll be too far inside the flotilla to get out before they block us.”
“How will we get rid of the crew?” Zoe called. She sat forward in her chair, looking ready to jump into action.
“That’s where Paris comes in,” David said.
