by Zoë Ferraris
Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. It was so simple and obvious that she smacked her forehead.
“I’ve got it!” she said. “I know a way to find out where my mom is right now!”
“What?” Herbie said.
Emma snatched up the jar of memory water. “I can use this!”
“What—you’re going to touch the scupper water?” Herbie yelped. “What if it turns you into an iguana?”
“He’s right,” Laika said. “That’s an extremely bad idea. I mean, eating raw vostok is one thing, but memory water…”
“When I touched the water on Delphinus,” Emma said, “I got a memory about my mom. And then afterward, I could hear all the animals at the tables around me, but I could only hear them when they were talking about my mom. It’s almost like the memory water knew what I needed to hear. Maybe if I touch it again, it will know now too.”
Herbie gave a sputter of protest, and Laika said, “You can’t just touch it and get what you want. I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“And didn’t you say that scuppers were dipped in concentrated memory water?” Herbie asked Santher.
“Yes,” Santher replied uncomfortably.
“So this would be stronger than normal memory water?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“Besides,” Herbie said, turning back to Emma, “you’re looking for information about what’s happening right now. But memory water is, by definition, going to give you, uh…memories?”
“Okay,” Emma said, “but a memory can be a few seconds old. It doesn’t have to be ancient.”
“But if it’s a few seconds old,” Herbie said, “then your mom would have had to touch some kind of memory water recently, right?”
“Actually, I don’t think that’s true,” Santher said. “Once you travel down Eridanus, the water makes some kind of connection with you, so it’s not just the few memories from your journey that get left in the water, it’s everything about you. All your memories get put in the water, even ones from childhood. It seems possible that it would keep that connection to you, and it would keep storing your memories even after you’ve left the system.”
Herbie shook his head. “All I’m going to say is: What if she turns into an iguana? ”
“That’s not going to happen,” Emma said. “Berenice touched the water in the tavern on Delphinus, remember? A drop landed on her wrist, and nothing happened to her.”
No one replied.
“Look, I have a feeling this could work,” Emma said. “And I really need to know where my mom is. I mean, what if we’re going in the completely wrong direction right now? She could be in the Queen’s hands already. And what if the Queen executes her?” She stopped talking, feeling her throat grow tight again. She wanted to say: I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.
“I think you’re right,” Santher said. “You should try it.”
Everyone was staring at her. She took a deep breath and gently unscrewed the lid of the jar. Herbie’s lips were set tight, and he was frowning.
“At least this water’s cleaner than the stuff we touched on Delphinus,” Emma said, setting the jar lid on the deck beside her. Her comment did not seem to soothe him. “And if I do turn into an iguana, just get a pair of tweezers and drop one of the scuppers on me right away so I can turn back.”
“Sure thing,” he said coolly. “Once I’m finished having a heart attack, I’ll get right on that.”
“Just touch it with the tip of your finger,” Laika said, looking anxious. “It will be stronger than normal.”
“And before you touch it,” Santher said, “I think you’d better concentrate on what you want to know.”
Emma followed their instructions, shutting her eyes and thinking about Mom. I need to find out where she is right now. She reached into the jar and carefully touched the water with the very tip of her finger. She retracted it immediately and set the jar on the ground, quickly screwing the lid back on.
At first, nothing happened. She looked at her friends. Each was staring at her with anticipation and fear.
“Anything?” Santher asked.
Emma shook her head. She was about to open the jar again, but when she looked down, she was struck by an awesome sight: at the edge of the dinner blanket was a five-hundred-foot drop to a chasm below. She gasped and startled, and the blanket tipped, dropping her over the side.
She fell as dead weight, too terrified to scream. With a sudden jolt, she stopped and opened her eyes. It was like waking from a nightmare. Her heart was still racing and she was covered in sweat, only now she was in an unfamiliar world. She looked around, trying to comprehend the scene.
She was on a ship—she could tell by the rocking, the way the wood squeaked and groaned, and a distant splash of water against the hull. She was walking down a narrow corridor behind three people: two guards in navy uniforms who were escorting a prisoner between them. The prisoner had a bag over his or her head, but when Emma caught a glimpse of the hands, which were tied behind the prisoner’s back, she recognized Mom’s wedding ring.
“Mom!” she cried. No one seemed able to hear her. She tried touching one of the guards, but he didn’t respond.
The guards brought Mom to a fo’c’sle. It was a dark, narrow space with hardly enough room to stand up straight. The floor was covered in damp straw, and the whole place smelled of mildew and bilgewater. Emma watched as the guards untied her ropes and locked her in prison cuffs. The cuffs were heavier, and with the weight on her arms, Mom nearly fell over. She looked around with an air of utter confusion, shuffled to the wall, slid down weakly, and drew her knees to her chest.
Emma tried sneaking into the cell before the guards locked the door, but there wasn’t enough room between the two burly men, and she was left outside staring through the bars at Mom’s crumpled form.
“Mom,” Emma croaked, tears burning in her eyes, “I’m so sorry. I’m going to get you out of here.” She knew this was a memory, and she suddenly felt an urge to find out how long ago it had happened. She forced herself to think. Mom was wearing her wedding ring, and Emma had seen pictures of their wedding at San Francisco’s city hall. Had she gone back to space since then? Probably not. The navy hadn’t captured her until recently, or they would have known she wasn’t dead. The memory Emma was seeing must be recent.
But what if it was already a week old? Or more? That still left plenty of time for the Queen to have executed her. Emma rushed back down the corridor, hoping to find some way to tell what day it was or what ship they were on, but at the end of the hallway the door was locked.
From above she heard voices. People were coming down the stairs. She waited for them to unlock the door, and she stepped back as they came through.
First came the doctor, Bezerbee Vermek. Although Emma had never seen him before, she knew his name in an instant, and she knew that he was a doctor. She figured this was because she was inside a memory, and that whoever it belonged to must know him too. A limp swag of hair hung over the doctor’s ghastly white face. His suit had undoubtedly once been fine, but it looked to have been worn daily for the better part of a decade, and now it was decorated with loose-hanging threads. Behind him came a scrawny young man with greasy blond hair. He was carrying the doctor’s black leather bag, so she figured he must be the loblolly boy, an assistant.
She followed them down the dank corridor to Mom’s cell. They stopped there and peered through the bars at her.
“She’s sleeping,” the loblolly boy whispered.
Dr. Vermek snorted and fumbled in his pocket. He drew out a key and unlocked the cell door. “Have you brought the correct instruments?”
“Yes. But I don’t understand why—”
“Wake her up,” he said.
“Yes, sir, but—”
“Wake her up.” Vermek slid a vial from his pocket and held it to the light for inspection.
The loblolly boy stared in stupefaction. “Is that a grisslin?”
/> “Yes,” Vermek said, grinning fiendishly. “This is a particularly rare and deadly grisslin that is prized among seers for its ability to absorb memories from the human mind.”
The two men squeezed into the fo’c’sle, and the loblolly boy knelt beside Mom. She might have been dead but for the gentle pulsing of a vein in her neck.
“Is this really necessary?” the loblolly boy asked, regarding the grisslin as if it were intended for him.
“All the information the captain needs is right down there.” Vermek pointed at Brightstoke’s head. “We simply have to retrieve it.”
“But isn’t it going to kill her?”
Vermek simply smirked. “Wake her up.”
The boy knelt beside Mom and shook her arm. She didn’t respond, so he touched her cheek. She sprang to like a wildcat, leaping to her feet with enough fierce energy to throw him backward. Vermek whipped out his pistol, but Mom was still shackled. She looked at the boy, then at Vermek. She stepped back until she touched the wall.
“Welcome back,” Vermek said. He moved closer, inspecting her tattered clothes and mangled hair.
Mom scrutinized him.
“Do you remember me?” He brought his face closer. “I was there when we captured you on Rigel. I was there when Captain Gent put you in the bag. Do you remember the lynx?”
Mom caught sight of the grisslin in the vial. She seemed to realize what was going on, and a look of fear crossed her face.
“We know all about the Pyxis transmission,” Vermek said. “We’re taking you to the Queen for execution. We’re very close by—only a few more days to Fairfoot. Enough time, I think, to strike a deal. If you tell us how to start the Pyxis, then we won’t have to do this.” He wiggled the vial. “We might even consider releasing you before then.”
Mom narrowed her eyes. “Who is the captain of this ship?”
“Why, funny you should ask,” Vermek sneered. “None other than your old friend Tema Gent. Would you like to see her? I’m sure she’d be glad to extend the offer herself.”
Mom’s face grew stubborn. “You’ll never let me go.”
Vermek began to unscrew the vial. Inside, the grisslin scrabbled against the glass, its legs working furiously. Mom tried to pull back, but Vermek motioned to the loblolly boy to step closer, and he did, reluctantly. “Hold her head,” Vermek commanded.
“You’re going to regret this,” Mom said.
“Oh, so you remember the grisslin? You collected them—or should I say you stole them? Are you wondering where I got this one?” He held up the vial. “I had to search far and wide to find it. Quite painful, these smaller ones. They can really do some damage.” He held the vial to Mom’s temple. She resisted, but the boy held her firm. “So what are you going to tell us?” Vermek asked, lifting the lid.
Mom pressed her lips together in an attempt at defiance, but Emma saw that her shoulders were trembling.
“Nothing,” she spat.
Vermek pulled back the lid, and the grisslin sprung out, its greedy legs finding purchase on Mom’s skin. It scurried into her hair and came straight back out, its blind body furiously seeking an entrance to the brain inside, for there was a brain inside, and a million memories calling to the creature. It was only a matter of getting in there. The grisslin ran a manic figure eight on her forehead, and raced down her nose. Mom thrashed, and it took Vermek’s help to hold her in place. The grisslin stopped at her nostril and sent one of its antennae delicately inside, savoring the moment as a drunkard would savor his first drop of crocky after a long drought. Then, with such speed as seemed impossible, the grisslin darted into her nose.
Emma clapped a hand to her mouth.
Mom screamed, but it was cut in half by a sudden jerk of her body. She fell to her knees, looking surprised, then slumped forward, unconscious.
The loblolly boy knelt beside her and opened the doctor’s bag. He took out a stethoscope and pressed its diaphragm to her head, listening intently.
“I think it’s penetrated the cortex,” he said grimly.
Vermek handed him the empty vial. “Good. When it’s done, collect the grisslin.”
Emma came to, shouting, “Mom-mom-mom-NO!” She awoke with a jolt and found herself lying on the dinner blanket. The plates and silverware were gone, and her friends were kneeling over her, looking concerned.
She forced herself to sit up. Her head was pounding, but she managed to speak. “They gave her a grisslin!”
Santher and Laika were dismayed.
“What’s that?” Herbie asked.
“It was some kind of beetle,” Emma said, “and they said it could eat the memories from her brain!”
“Sounds gruesome,” Herbie said.
“I saw it. They put it in her nose, and it went inside her head.” Emma forced herself to stand up. The ship was moving gracefully, but she swayed anyway. “They wanted to get information about the Pyxis, but she wouldn’t give it to them.”
Santher gave her a blanket because she was shivering. “Did you find out where they were?” he asked.
“Fairfoot,” she said. “They were heading to Fairfoot. Where is that?”
“That’s on Pegasus!” Laika said. “It’s not very far!”
“They said they were bringing her to the Queen,” Emma said.
“What?” Santher said. “The Queen is on Fairfoot? Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then we have to be careful going there,” Santher said. “The Queen usually travels with a huge retinue.”
“Not to mention she’ll probably have the navy posted at the vostok zone,” Laika put in. “How will we get around it?”
“I don’t know,” Emma said. “But we’re going to Pegasus. They’ve got my mom, so that’s where we’re going.”
Silence fell.
She turned to Santher. “How long will it take us to get to Fairfoot?”
“Uh…four days in good wind.”
“That’s not fast enough.”
“Well,” he said, grinning, “we could get there a lot faster if we fly…. ”
“Oh no.” Herbie put his hands on his face.
Laika smiled and made a small “wheee” of excitement. “I love flying,” she said.
“But you said we needed to test-run the wings first!” Herbie said.
“Nah,” Santher replied bluffly. “They’re the best wings we’ve ever made. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
Emma looked at the three of them and made up her mind. “Okay,” she said, “first thing tomorrow, we fly to Pegasus.”
Emma and Herbie were standing beside the captain’s wheel, the wind in their faces. Laika grinned as the Markab soared majestically over the Pegasus Strand. Thanks to the yacht’s streamlined body and massive wings, it was proving itself a light, fast ship, and the tailwinds along Scheat were giving them a phenomenal boost.
Everyone was strapped to a line that was tied to a railing or the mast. Herbie was clutching the rope around his stomach and turning various shades of green. He might have mastered climbing to the aerie, but flying was a new and turbulent experience. When the ship dropped in the strong winds, his knuckles went white, and when it soared higher, he squeezed his eyes and muttered, “Please no, please no…” Emma was still shaken from her experience the day before, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened to her mom.
“We’re going to find her, no matter what,” Laika said. But Emma knew that she was just saying that to make her feel better. Deep inside, she had a horrible feeling that it was too late.
Santher was standing at the propelling generator, a wooden box with a wheel on it. By spinning the wheel, he was able to generate the energy to raise the ship off the water and keep her wings flapping.
“How are we going to land?” Herbie called out.
“We’d better check our position!” Laika cried.
Emma hauled Santher’s Navy Manual from beneath the bench and flipped it open to Pegasus.
“Look for landmarks
!” Laika said.
Emma scanned the pages of text until she found Scheat. “There should be a giant split in the Strand just before the vostok bridge to the star Markab!” she shouted over the wind. “One Strand turns left to Homam, and the other goes to Algenib.”
“That’s it?” Laika asked. “No islands or rocks or banks?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, but how are we going to land?” Herbie said.
Laika pinched her lips. “I think we’re going to reach it pretty quickly. Once we see the split in the Strand, we’ll set her down.”
“Right, but HOW?”
“Well,” Laika said. “We just kind of spread the wings and float down.” She stretched her arms to demonstrate. Emma had never been on a flying ship—she had never even been on an airplane—and if it hadn’t been for the feeling of gloom about her mom, flying would have been exhilarating. With every flap of the wings, the Markab pulled slightly higher with a remarkable feeling of boundless space. It reminded her of swinging at the park as a kid.
Herbie shook his head, muttering to himself. “Float down. Just like that. I knew I should have stayed on the Argh.”
Santher had a devilish gleam in his eye. “You should see what it’s like flying on the Argh!”
For a brief, queasy moment, Herbie looked as if he might vomit.
When they saw the split in the Strand, Santher shouted directions for shifting the wings. Laika and Emma leapt to action, adjusting the wooden knobs on the generator until Santher was satisfied. The wings stopped their flapping and now spread out widely as the Markab began a gliding descent. Herbie, who had gone below groaning, was nowhere in sight as the boat glided down to the water. It finally touched down with a great, satisfying splash, carving waves in the waters that shot up behind them. They heard Herbie give a terrified yelp below.
“It’s okay!” Laika shouted. “We’ve landed!”
Herbie climbed topside, looking around warily. Santher scampered to the mainmast and let out the sails, while Laika and Emma went to make sure the wing masts folded in properly.
