Leveling

by Diana Knightley

  Soon the other researchers clamored down the stairs. Jeffrey slid into the booth beside Beckett, and Dan, Sarah, Dr. Mags, and Rebecca sat in the next booth.

  Dan asked, “Need coffee?”

  The boat rocked and Beckett’s hand went instinctively to his stomach. Ugh. “I’m all out, so yes, definitely.”

  “Help yourself, the pot’s just there.” He gestured with his head toward the counter.

  Beckett slid out of the booth and took two lurching steps grabbing the counter for balance. His back was to the group which was good because he felt a bit green. He picked up the pot, empty.

  Dr. Mags, her voice deep and no nonsense, said, “You pick up the empty pot, you gotta make more. Ship rules.”

  Great. Beckett opened the cupboard and found a can of coffee and scooped into the basket as his stomach started to lurch. He filled the pot with water. Nausea hit him like a wave. He leaned on the counter. Head hanging.

  The boat rocked back and forth. Beckett stumbled left and dropped his elbows to both edges of the sink and tried to focus on the drain but it was dancing and spinning left and right and in circles.

  Someone behind him giggled.

  Dan asked, “Did you remember to turn the coffeepot on?”

  Beckett peeled open his eyes, forced his head up and checked. The button was off. He raised an arm and flailed at where the button should be as his stomach rose to his throat. He groaned.

  More giggling behind him.

  Dan said, “Go ahead, man, let it go, you do it now, and I win the bet.”

  Beckett dropped even further into the sink and asked, “You bet when I would throw up?”

  Dan said, “Nah, man, I bet when you would start to throw up.”

  Beckett retched into the sink and it seemed like everything he had ever eaten came up everywhere.

  Everyone slid out of the booths behind him and rushed to leave up the stairs. As he left, Dan said, “Jeffrey gets to clean that, for sure, since Sarah had to clean his up.”

  Jeffrey mumbled, “Thanks.”

  Beckett felt a hand on his back. Jeffrey looked at the opposite wall as he asked, “Okay?”

  Beckett threw up again.

  Jeffrey said, “Give it a second, and then go down to your bunk. Seriously, though try to go when you’re not puking everywhere, I don’t want to have to mop all those floors.”

  “And don’t throw up on my bed!” Rebecca yelled down, but Beckett could barely hear over the whooshing in his head as his stomach lurched again.

  Somehow Beckett made it down to his bunk and collapsed. He remained there for the rest of the day, unable to think about anything but his stomach and its mutiny against him.

  Later Jeffrey sat at the end of his bed staring at a far wall. “So, apparently, since I cleaned up after you, I also get to check on you and see if you’ve survived.”

  “I think so.”

  “You still look green, I think you better stay down here until tomorrow. Here’s some dinner.” He passed a plate with ham and rubbery cheesy pasta.

  Beckett’s stomach lurched. “It’s dinner time?”

  Jeffrey bobbed his head, “Yep, whole day gone. We’re way out to sea. We were in the main sea route all day—so many boats, but now we’ve turned north. Less traffic.”

  “Ugh, I didn’t even...” Beckett tried to sit up and then clutched his stomach.

  “Yeah, you’re not coming up.”

  Beckett laid back on the pillow. “Is someone looking for Nomads for...” Beckett leaned up and over and retched into a bucket.

  Jeffrey shoved it closer with his foot.

  “Captain Aria is keeping an eye out. Rebecca looked, but we haven’t seen anything. See you in the morning.”

  Jeffrey left to go to dinner.

  Chapter 33

  Beckett’s night was fitful, he’d had too much sleep, so he couldn’t sleep, but when he wasn’t sleeping all he could think about was his stomach cramping and the boat rocking and the wishy-washy water and the snoring and turning of the others—when he awoke the other bunks were empty.

  Beckett stared at the wood paneling above him. It shifted left and right but his stomach remained steady. His stomach was also empty and wanted to be filled. He sat slowly and then stood slowly, holding onto the walls, and climbed carefully to the deck.

  The bright sun shocked his eyes.

  He descended to the galley. Captain Aria was there. “I’m finishing up lunch. Ready for breakfast?”

  “Yes, I um, think so.”

  “Thinking it means you’re on the mend which is good, because I was about to have you arrested for a stowaway.” She boomed “Dan, Stanford needs something to eat,” though Dan was only a few feet away in the tiny kitchen.

  Beckett said, “I’m glad you didn’t have me arrested, I think I can be available now.”

  “Good, we’re going to sit here for a while, take water samples around this Outpost. Have some food, then meet Rebecca up on deck. I’m sure she can use the extra hands. Even green hands.”

  Beckett poured himself a cup of coffee and put cold scrambled eggs between two pieces of cold toast with bacon and mayo. He sat at a booth by himself and ate slowly, staring forward at the empty seat, concentrating on keeping it down.

  When he stepped out to the deck, he was instantly blinded, the sun was bright and high. Once he became acclimated, he looked to the right and then the left and, Whoa. That was an Outpost, his Outpost. He was on a ship parked beside his Outpost. Rebecca was leaning over the port railing and then straightened, writing into the pages of a book.

  Beckett strode up, unable to take his eyes from the trees on the top edge of the roof. “That’s where I lived.”

  Rebecca turned, “What?”

  “That Outpost, that was where I was stationed until—what day is it?”

  Rebecca pulled up a small bucket on a rope. “The nineteenth.”

  “Until three days ago.” Beckett gulped. Three days. Anna had been out here, somewhere, for three days. He turned to look out the starboard side of the ship, north, the direction she had paddled. Nothing but empty ocean as far as he could see.

  A box was shoved against his chest. It was dripping wet, lucite, containing five test tubes. He stepped forward and glanced down. Two heads were down in the water. Rebecca threw another bucket over the railing, swinging it out, “Heads up!”

  She turned to Beckett, “Take that to Sarah and Dr. Mags in the lab.”

  “The lab?”

  “Back there.” She jerked her head toward the aft deck.

  Beckett held tight of every railing while he walked, stride wide, knees bent, even though the sea was mostly still and the ship was barely moving and he probably looked ridiculous.

  He found Sarah in the lab, a small room that looked more like a kitchen than the galley did. The counters were covered in aquariums full of tiny fish, a few brimming with plants, some with coral.

  On the only bare counter, Sarah was gutting a three foot fish with a long knife.

  Beckett asked, “Where should I put this?”

  She jerked her neck toward a side counter where Dr. Mags was working. Beckett watched Sarah for a second. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun and occasionally she blew a gust of air toward her forehead causing the tiny hairs there to dance at the same time as fish innards schplocked and schpulked as she ripped them from the belly.

  She said, “I’m glad you’re up, we need the extra hands.” She reached into the stomach and pulled out a small handful of gunk-covered plastic pieces and listed “Pellets, tabs, tops, line.”

  Dr. Mags checked boxes on a whiteboard as she spoke.

  Beckett said, “Should I go back out to Rebecca?” Sarah nodded making another incision in the fish.

  When he returned to the deck Dan was climbing the ladder wearing a full scuba suit, dripping wet. He pulled his mask off. “Wanna dive?”

  Beckett shook his head, “No, um, no I don’t dive, don’t know how.”

  Dan sa
id, “Oh that’s right, you’re Army, yet you’re on a boat.” Dan dropped from the railing to the deck and peeled down his wetsuit. “I’m Navy, see, it makes sense. Don’t you have levees to build or dams to hide behind?”

  Rebecca said, “He used to live on that Outpost. Three days ago. He might be Army but he can’t get enough of water.”

  Beckett said, “I don’t agree, I think this is plenty of water.”

  Dan smirked. Rebecca handed him a bucket, “That’s the last sample we needed, when you’re out of your wetsuit, take this to Sarah.” Then to Beckett she said, “You’re probably a part of the signs on the side then, right?”

  Beckett asked, “Signs?”

  Rebecca led him to the front of the ship and pointed back at a corner of the Outpost. “The signs.”

  The signs. Anna had drawn signs. What did they mean? “Rebecca do you have a piece of paper?”

  She ripped a piece of paper from her notebook and gave him a pencil.

  He drew the images.

  A box with an X in it.

  An apple.

  A butterfly.

  What did that mean?

  Those were new. Those were Anna’s drawings. He knew it. They were above the other signs, the ones that Anna mentioned when they met.

  After scribbling on the paper he looked up and one thought hit him in his gut, the Outpost was still standing.

  Still Standing. The water had risen, but the Outpost was still there.

  He didn’t have to leave that day, he could have stayed, with Anna, living on the Outpost. He would have had more time. Could have persuaded her to come home with him. More time.

  Rebecca watched over his shoulder, “That means Outpost is empty, I think.”

  Beckett’s brow furrowed. She explained, “I watched that documentary.”

  Beckett nodded. Of course. “Do you have any idea what this butterfly means?”

  “Nope, but it looks more like a moth.”

  Chapter 34

  Luna awoke to a general noisy talking and bustling outside of her tent. Sky was gone. She stretched with a wince. Every muscle ached. She crawled to the door and looked out. People were breaking camp all around her. Strangers, yet it was all so familiar. Most of them looked like her own lost family—dark hair, dark skin, muscular. They were preparing for a long paddle. Doing what her family would do after a night or two on land.

  Luna wasn’t sure she was okay with how this family, not her family, someone else’s family, had become hers. It had seemed so sudden. Like instantaneous. Like replacement.

  First, she had believed herself dead. Gone, finished, and now she wasn’t. She wasn’t gone. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was.

  What if she had known—while she was with Beckett.

  Would she have been different? Maybe stayed longer, persuaded him to stay? Told him the truth?

  Sky said, “Luna!”

  Luna said a quiet, “Good morning.”

  Sky announced with the excessively bright smile of someone who was trying to make a Sad Lost Soul more comfortable, “Everyone, this is Luna, Luna, everyone. Obviously you’ll need to learn names, but there’s a whole lot of us. We won’t hold it against you if you just grunt in our direction.”

  Luna pulled back into the tent with a grunt, that was all too, too much.

  Sky followed and poked her head in the tent. “We’re leaving, we were on a supply run, headed south, but decided last night to return north along the coast, back the way we came because the storm season started early. Also, we don’t have much breakfast.”

  Luna hunched cross-legged in the middle of the short tent. “I have food. In my pack, on my board.”

  Sky stopped and looked at her for a minute. “You do?”

  “I do, it’s enough for everyone.”

  “Can I go get it?”

  Luna nodded.

  About fifteen minutes later, Sky returned with a dehydrated packet for Luna. “Everyone wonders where you got the supplies—after you eat of course.”

  Luna ate what tasted like a bacon and egg sandwich the consistency of raisins. She would have loved raisins right now, they were sweet, good fuel. Or chocolate. She closed her eyes, remembering Beckett’s expression when he ran his thumb back and forth on her knee while she ate chocolate and they both wanted to make love.

  Sky zipped Luna’s pack, “Who’s Beckett Stanford?”

  “What—hmm?”

  Sky pointed at his name written large on her pack. And inside the pack. And she had probably seen it on Luna’s water filter, too.

  “A friend.”

  Sky said, “He wanted you to remember him.”

  “Yeah.”

  Sky and Luna broke the tent into parts collected into a small, secure, bundle, while Luna looked around. Waterfolk stood in small groups all around, some talking, some taking down other tents, most of them eating. Luna found her paddle and was relieved to lean on it, paddle-end down in the dirt.

  They all gathered in a circle. Luna counted twenty-one people, which was a lot for a nomadic group. Everyone held a paddle in some way, leaning on it, holding it over their head in a stretch, twirling, or balancing it in their hand. That was one of the best things about paddles, how they helped move you, but also helped you be still. An older man said, “We’re headed north. I had hoped to have more supplies for trading at this point, but the storms are coming.”

  Luna leaned toward Sky and whispered, “Are you planning to head east to the settlements?”

  Sky looked nervously to the young man on her right. “No. Never.”

  “Oh.”

  The older man said, “We’ll convene down at the boards and head out in half an hour, we’ll need to paddle a lot today, and there might be a storm tonight.”

  Luna wasn’t sure why she did it, but she said, “Excuse me.”

  The entire group turned and looked at her, the stranger.

  “I know where there’s supplies.”

  The young man to the right of Sky looked at Luna with furrowed brow.

  The older man said, “Luna Saturniidae, I’m Odo. welcome to the family. A lot of supplies, accessible?”

  “Well, it’s a long distance, out, south. And there’s nothing between here and there. But it’s there. Water filters too.”

  The others in the circle muttered and murmured to each other.

  “How’d you come by this information?”

  “It’s the Outpost I visited before I came here, three days ago. It’s stocked with packs containing food and filters as a way station for Nomads headed to the settlements on the mainland. It’s unoccupied now. The trunk has thirty packs at least. Full.” More murmuring.

  A woman to the left of Luna said, “There might be a chance it’s all been taken.”

  “True, but I didn’t see any Waterfolk until I saw you. The chances of anyone traveling there are slim.”

  The young man next to Sky said, “I still think north up the coast is the better bet. We’re exposed out there, there’s too much risk. We’re a big group. We move slowly.”

  Someone else added, “Storm season is starting too. There’s a storm on the horizon right now.”

  The young man said, “How do you even know the Outpost is still standing?”

  “I don’t. The risk is high, but the payoff is big. Enough supplies for everyone and for trading, for weeks.”

  Side discussions and whispering began again. Finally Odo said, “Buzz, I hear you, you made an impassioned plea last night to go up the coast and your argument won the day, but with this new information we need to change our plans. Without supplies we’re not at optimal strength.”

  Buzz said, “Of course.” He cut his eyes at Luna.

  Luna said, “I don’t think everyone should go though.”

  When people started to object, Odo raised his hand. “Hear her out.”

  Luna continued, “I agree that Waterfolk don’t ever split up on principle, but this is a big group and with the storms...”

&nb
sp; Odo said, “That’s true, we have been traveling slowly. We could send a party to the Outpost. Our strongest paddlers.”

  A woman on the other side of the circle said, “It’s not how we go, we stick together, always. The group moves at the rate of the weakest member, it’s how we survive.”

  Odo said, “But we’re a big group, two families, with Luna, three. We can divide without it changing our tradition. I think it’s what we have to do. Things are changing.”

  Luna looking down at her paddle. “Every inch of water makes this a whole different world. One that we have to adapt to survive in.”

  Odo nodded. “You’ve certainly survived. So I believe we’re decided?”

  People all around the circle nodded.

  Odo said, “I’ll go to the Outpost, how about seven volunteers to accompany me.” Many hands went up, including Luna’s.

  Odo said, “Luna, no one expects you to return across that distance, you can tell us where the supplies are.”

  “I’m a navigator. Also, I’ve been there, I’m familiar with the building. I’ve seen where the food is. I’ll go. I can do it.”

  Odo said, “Okay, how about Buzz and Sky and...” With the handle of his paddle he pointed around the circle until he had chosen seven to accompany himself.

  Then Luna explained to everyone the Outpost’s location, earning an appreciative whistle from some in the crowd.

  Buzz asked, “You did that distance by yourself?”

  Luna nodded. Sky hugged her around the shoulders.

  Odo said, “We should leave within the half hour, we’ll want to be there in the early afternoon tomorrow.”

  Chapter 35

  Beckett stood on deck, back to the wall, far from the railing, and stared at the Outpost. His former home. It seemed so foreign from this direction, looming over the ship, a behemoth. It also seemed lonely, stuck in the middle of the ocean, immobile, and trapped.

  Beckett wished he could go up there and retrieve some of his stuff, send the zodiac down over the side, drive it, figuring it out (probably), pull to the port window, swim across the 118th floor, and climb the stairs.