Beckett tried to return to his wall, but the sneering woman had spread her stance.
Beckett made do with standing in the middle of the room. Wishing that his fatigues would count for special treatment. Anything. It took over an hour as one by one people approached the desk, filled out paperwork, and then left with a look of glee returned to their face.
Beckett attempted to get a handle on what the process was, the paperwork, what he needed, but the system was enigmatic. The bulletin boards had helpful posters like, Don’t Trash the Ocean, and Settlements are for Safety. He tried to clear his mind, but questions kept rolling through, like, had anything Anna said been true?
The television in the corner, flashed an image of Anna Barlow, the actress, and Beckett walked toward the screen. She wore a silver-sequined gown, on a red carpet, smiling her big-screen-actress smile and it hit Beckett in his gut that Anna Barlow was not his Anna’s name.
Not at all.
And how would he find her if he didn’t even know her real name?
And if a woman doesn’t give you her real name, she doesn’t want you to find her. That was a truth that couldn’t be denied.
Beckett was called to the desk. He said, “I can’t tell if I’m in the right place, but I need a boat.”
“Even if we had any left, which we don’t, I would need to see your captain’s license.”
Of course there would be a catch. He patted his pockets, “Gee, I must have forgotten it, but you said there were no boats, is there someplace else—with boats I mean?”
“Not in this city. In this city, you come with a license, and I rent you a boat. When I have boats.” She scratched her head sending a cascade of dandruff flakes all over her desktop.
Beckett tried another tack. “I need to go out to sea, what are my options?”
“I don’t know, what do I look like?”
“Your sign says you’re the Port Authority, I figured you’d be an authority on things that float in and out of this port.”
She raised her eyebrows and released her full terrifying glare.
He wasn’t getting anywhere with this woman and she was his only hope, the gatekeeper for the whole entire ocean. Beckett said, “Um,” and dropped to his knees.
She looked shocked.
“I’m begging you. I need a boat to carry me west, it’s a matter of survival, someone is going to die, seriously, do you have any ideas, any help, anything that you can do?”
Her eyes grew large, she looked around the room for help. “Oh, well, you might...” She leafed through a pile of papers on her desk and pulled a flier from the middle. “This is a research vessel, they’re leaving tomorrow morning, they might give you a ride for a fee.”
Beckett stood, dusted off his knees. “Thank you thank you, that is...” He studied the flier as he walked out of the Port Authority to the street.
Join the crew of the
Sea Vessel: Northern Ocean H2OPE
August 18 - September 2
Research, protection, organizing
for a healthier ocean.
The contact was Captain Aria Cook
Beckett stood in front of the Port Authority, back to the water, and called the listed number.
A woman answered, “Captain Aria here.”
“Hi, my name is Beckett Stanford. I need passage west, um west north.” Crap. He should have thought through what he planned to say. He sounded like an idiot. “On your boat, and I’m wondering what I can do to make that happen.”
Aria said, “Passage? We’re not going anywhere, out and around and back. Sorry, you must have me confused—”
She hung up the phone.
Double crap.
Beckett dialed the number again and because the water felt close, like too close, lapping his feet close, walked up Pier Avenue toward his cycle.
Captain Aria answered, “Yes?”
“Look, I know you’re not landing anywhere. I need to go out and around, I’m with the army, I’m supposed to contact Nomads, it’s a mission.”
“The army? Why not the Navy, they have their own boats?”
“Why do the services do anything, nothing makes sense, am I right? I just follow orders, and my orders were to secure a boat, go out to sea, and help Nomads who need help.”
“We need extra hands on our pollution research, we have five, need six. We’re repopulating fish habitats. Are you even interested in ocean biology?”
Beckett lied, “I’m passionate about ocean biology, fish, and um, their plight.”
“Uh huh, sure. Can you dive?”
Beckett paused. “No.”
Captain Aria sighed. “Fine, we’ll use you topside. We’re on dock 49. See you at 5:00 sharp.” She hung up.
Beckett checked his phone for a hostel and located one with an open bed. He found a long term parking lot for his bike and then another pizza joint for dinner. He had missed pizza and figured that was one meal that boats probably couldn’t provide. Then he checked into the hostel. He dropped his things onto the end of his bunk, climbed in, and fell asleep.
Chapter 29
His phone went off at 3:30.
He showered and went to the coffee shop next door, ordering a cup of coffee and a bagel with egg and bacon. He asked the woman how come they were open so early, and she said, “It’s a port, boats always want to leave at dawn. Don’t ask me why.”
“Probably they leave in the dark so they won’t be as terrified.”
She smiled. “I don’t understand why anyone should go out there.”
“Me neither, but I’m headed out.”
“Keep yourself safe,” she said, as if she really cared. That was comforting, it was good to hear someone tell him to be safe, like wishes might manifest as true.
He stared down Pier Avenue at the harbor. It was dark except for the occasional lamp spreading a round glow on the docks and roofs and glistening water. Circles of light. Pools of gentle sparkling light. It looked peaceful, not menacing. Simply a black landscape, not even water at all. What would it be—volcanic rock, a black sand beach? Trouble was he could hear the water lapping, the ting-ting of metal and ropes banging and rocking.
Beckett was not fooled—things rock on the water.
He stood for a long time. You’ve got this, this is nothing. The water is always there, always will be there.
But it wasn’t a pep talk that propelled him to the docks, it was a necessity: Anna, you have to go find Anna. She needs you. You need her, you just have to go.
In front of the Port Authority he stood on a small pile of sandbags while he checked the dock map. He needed to go to the right, down three floating docks, then take a left on Dock C and walk out about a—a long, long way out over the water.
He stepped onto the first of the docks. It swayed a bit under his foot. He held onto the railing and took another step and another.
Ten steps in and he passed another person. “Hello, how are you.” He hoped his voice sounded calm and normal despite his full sweat and desperate grip on the railing. His gait lurched—step, step, let go of the railing, grab ahead, step, step, lunge. He came to Dock C and the railing ended abruptly.
What the hell were people supposed to hold as they walked perilously out to sea? And not just out over depths, houses were down there, eery looming detritus, people’s belongings, and...and dead things just below the surface. It was like the water was haunted.
Beckett closed his eyes. He took two steps, opened his eyes, oriented himself, and took two more slow steps. Opening and closing his eyes and adjusting he slowly made his way down the dock. He could do it if he couldn’t see where he was going.
He finally stepped onto the closest dock of the H2OPE, a big research vessel. Between the dock and the boat was a large square rooftop about twelve inches down under the water. Upward-directing lights illuminated the edges. It glowed. He stood for a second trying to decide how to get from the dock to the boat.
From the ship, through the darkness, someone called, “Bec
kett Stanford?”
Beckett considered turning back for shore, but decided he didn’t want to see how far away the shore was. He called back, “Yes, um, how do I get across?”
“Walk—wait I’ll send someone.”
Beckett stared down at a lamp, glowing pink under the surface of the water, like a face, skin—He closed his eyes until he heard a splash ahead. A young woman was wading across the expanse of the submerged roof. She walked purposefully, courageously, and spoke with an upbeat familiar, “Hey Beckett! Leap out and down. Don’t drop—go out, if you go down into the space, you’ll tweak your ankle something fierce or worse.”
Beckett stepped to the left, proffered a foot, thought twice about it, and stepped to the right, put his other foot out, then withdrew his leg and crouched to spring. Then rethought his position.
The young woman cocked her head to watch.
Beckett backed up two steps, ran and leaped, landing a full two feet past where he needed to go.
She said, “That’s exceptionally enthusiastic of you. Captain Aria didn’t tell me you were army.” She said it like an accusation.
“Oh,” Beckett said, following behind her as they waded through the calf-deep water.
The boat was big and low, white and black. There was a painted sign on the side, a heart in a blue circle.
The young woman grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder and hoisted a leg, her ponytail swinging. “My name is Rebecca, head of research. I hate to say it, since you seem so incompetent, but you’ll be answering to me.” She hoisted herself onto the deck of the ship.
There was nothing left for Beckett to do but climb.
Chapter 30
Luna’s paddleboard crashed into overhanging trees and walloped into a granite cliff. “Shit!” She hadn’t noticed the wall in her stupor. Plus the light was dim.
She wanted to drag the limbs off her head and the branches out of her hair, but her arms wouldn’t go up. How long had she been paddling? Hours? Days?
She decided to collapse down to her board, but as she dropped, a branch yanked her hair. “Ouch!” She landed on her stomach, legs splayed.
It started to rain. She pulled her hands up out of the water, curled them under her body, and thought, “Just some sleep, then I’ll figure this out.”
“Hello?”
She opened her eyes.
“Hello, down there, who’s there?”
Luna couldn’t imagine who could be on a cliff wall on a—what was this—island? North of where she had been by leagues, miles, hours, days. All she knew was that she was too tired and mustering a reply this close to her imminent demise would be fruitless, anyway.
So quietly, to herself, she whispered, “It’s me.”
____________________
Luna’s paddleboard shifted and rocked.
A man’s voice said, “Curl up.”
She pulled her legs up as two knees straddled her lower legs. Her paddleboard was propelled forward, out of the shelter of the tree, to—somewhere. Luna could only sleep, so she did. Luna awoke, nestled in someone’s arms, being carried with a steady gait over an uneven path. Raising her head to look, to see who carried her required too much energy. She slept again.
Chapter 31
The rain was loud. Deafening, but Luna was dry. She opened her eyes and found herself looking up at the underside of the inside of a very small tent. Under a blanket. Looking to the left and right she realized a woman about her same age, dark hair, dark skin, was sitting near her feet, at the open end of the tent, watching the rain.
Luna asked, “Where am I?”
The young woman seemed startled that Luna had spoken, then flopped down on her stomach, propped on her elbows. “You’re with my family, we’re the Anisopteras. Oh and the Dipteras are here now too.”
Luna said, “Oh.”
The young woman said, “Why are you alone?”
Luna brain was still stunned. She wasn’t sure of anything. She wondered if she was alone and why. There were things she knew and things she didn’t know and the space between, where she resided, a place that seemed a lot like Lost, caused sobs to come up from her knees. She pulled the covers up over her face as tears flowed down her cheek.
The young woman gently asked, “What’s your family name?”
Between sobs Luna squeaked out, “Saturniidae.”
A hand tentatively touched her shoulder. “Oh, we heard, I mean...we thought you were all gone.”
Luna said, “We are.”
The woman said, “Oh.”
They were quiet for a few moments then she asked, “How long has it been?”
“I stopped counting because I couldn’t see that it mattered anymore.”
The woman said, “My name is Sky. Rest, it’s raining and my family is deciding which direction to go once the sun returns.”
Luna nodded with a sniffle and Sky left the tent.
Luna squeezed her eyes shut and saw Beckett, holding the nose of her paddleboard, saying, “Wait, Anna, no, Anna, don’t go Anna.”
She cried herself to sleep.
A few hours later Sky crawled into the tent and resumed her position beside Luna propped on her elbows.
“How are you?”
Luna shook her head.
“I guess my question is, at least what I’ve been told to ask is, do you think you can travel in the morning? The rain will pass and we’d like to go north up the coast to...that’s unimportant. You’ll travel with us of course, but we wonder if you can travel.”
“I think so.”
“Also, I get to share your tent, because it’s way wet out there.”
“Of course,” Luna wiggled to the right, and Sky curled in under the blankets, almost nose to nose.
“What’s your name, since we’re sharing breaths?”
“My name is Luna.”
“Well, Luna, let me be the first to welcome you to the family.”
Another tear slid down Luna’s nose.
Chapter 32
Once aboard, Rebecca passed Beckett off to a young man named Jeffrey with a “Show him to his quarters, and Beckett, I’ll see you back up here when you stow your things.”
Jeffrey was fresh-faced and wiry. He looked to be about eighteen years old at the most, but in the I-Can’t-Believe-You’re-Eighteen way. Though it was difficult to see his face; he kept bobbing his head nervously, looking at anything but Beckett.
He led Beckett through the deck to a doorway, down tight steps to a hallway with bunks on both sides. “This will be yours. Bathroom is at the end to the left. You can use this drawer.” He gestured toward it while ducking his head. If Beckett hadn’t watched his hands, he would have missed where it was. Jeffrey said, “We’ll do our morning meeting in ten,” and left.
Beckett stowed his things, then threw his pack onto the end of his bed, giving the mattress a small pat. Yikes, it was thinner than it looked.
A few minutes later Beckett stood on the top deck surrounded by eight other people. An older woman, with a regal nose and grey strands through her dark hair, stood at the head of the circle. Jeffrey whispered, “That’s Captain Aria. She’s very—”
Captain Aria interrupted, “Setting sail in five. Welcome aboard everyone. We have a lot of research this trip, I’ll expect everyone to pitch in, butts in the water, except...”
She looked questioningly at Beckett, who said, “Um?”
She said, “Your name, I’ve forgotten.”
He said, “Beckett Stanford.”
“If Rebecca asks, all butts in the water, except Stanford, who doesn’t dive. If Stanford is in the water, throw him a life preserver.” Everyone in the circle chuckled heartily. Captain Aria smirked at Beckett. Then asked, “Dan, have you got some good meals planned for us?”
A man who looked to be in his thirties, handsome, dark hair and a square jaw, said, “The usual, mostly burnt, sometimes raw. Your favorites.”
“I’ll come back down at lunch.” She and two men left for the bridge.
Rebecca said, “Okay, everyone, you’ve met Beckett. He’s Army, along for the ride. Why did you say you were along for the ride?”
“I’m supposed to be looking for Nomads, telling them to head to the mainland.”
“Right. Okay, whenever you aren’t doing that important work you’ll be on deck with me.”
“Sure, whatever, whenever.”
“This is Sarah, she’s my research partner.” She gestured toward a lithe pale woman who was standing beside Dan, the cook. Leaning against him, head occasionally on his shoulder. “This is Dr. Mags, she’ll act as medic if you need it, but prefers animals.”
Dr. Mags was short and wide and her hair was clipped close to her head. She nodded her head in greeting.
“That’s Dan, he’s the cook. Navy. You two should have fun with each other.” Dan cocked an eyebrow at Beckett, his arm draped around Sarah’s shoulders. “And you’ve met Jeffrey already.”
Jeffrey said a shy, “Yep,” and looked away.
The ship lurched. Rebecca grabbed the shoulder of Dr. Mags as she stumbled. “We’re off! I’ll need to get my sea legs back, you got sea legs, Beckett?”
“Um, sure.”
Rebecca snickered at Dan and everyone went in different directions.
Beckett asked Sarah as she walked by, “Where should I be?”
“Wherever, you can watch from the railings over there.”
Beckett couldn’t imagine a worse place to stand, on an edge, watching the boat slide away from shore. So far he had only looked at the floor, the decking, the doors leading to the bunks. He left for the interior of the ship, hopefully some place without windows.
The door he entered was at the top of a flight of stairs. He descended into a tight room with three booth tables on the left and a counter with a microwave, coffee pot, a small sink, and a flat screen TV on the wall. Beckett slid into the closest booth as the boat rocked back and forth. He wondered if the coffeepot was full and if he could pour himself some.
Leveling Page 8
