Abandoned: Bitter Harvest, Book Three

by Ann Gimpel

  Heat rose from Recco’s chest, and he trotted back to his workstation before Ketha picked up on the flush. It had to have added a tint to his coppery skin. “I’m going to make up a few fresh slides.”

  “I’ll do it,” Daide said.

  “Great. You make slides, and I’ll hunt down Karin. She could probably use a hand if she’s bringing back drinks for all of us.” Ketha moved briskly toward the door.

  “Wait.” Recco followed her. “Do you see a connection between whatever is happening with the prokaryotes and the music Zoe is hearing?”

  Ketha adopted a thoughtful expression. “I floated that with Zoe. It’s a stretch, which is the same thing she said. Way things have been going, we can’t afford not to turn every single rock over. Back soon, and then we can kick this around some more.” She hustled out the door.

  “What are you thinking, amigo?” Daide asked.

  “The truth?”

  “Of course. Otherwise there’s no reason to answer.”

  “I’d like to scoop up every cell of what we salvaged from the deck and chuck the entire mess into the ocean.”

  “How would it help?” Daide walked closer, his dark gaze never leaving Recco’s face.

  “Separation. At least whatever is morphing into God only knows what won’t be on this ship.”

  “Remember the albino fur seal pup?”

  Daide’s question came out of left field, and Recco blinked stupidly as he shifted gears. “Of course, I remember. It was a long time ago.”

  “The mother rejected it,” Daide went on. “Rightly so, because it had almost no chance of survival. Its color would have made it a target for every predator in the waters around Ushuaia.”

  Recco pressed his lips into a thin line. “You told me I was a fool when I took it and fed it and raised it. Once it got to be a few months old, I introduced it to the sea.” He swallowed hard. “Damn thing didn’t last two days before a leopard seal ate it.”

  Daide turned his hands palms upward. “I rest my case.”

  “I’m not seeing the connection.”

  “You can’t circumvent nature. Tossing the samples won’t change the outcome. It’s impossible for us to make certain we’ve obliterated every single cell. Some will remain inside the freezer—and in this lab. Hell, for all I know, some will drill back through the ship’s hull.” Daide shook his head. “We’re in the middle of something, and it has to play itself out.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I have no idea, but I am. Before you go see how Zoe is doing”—Daide winked broadly—“can I switch topics?”

  “Sure.” Recco ignored the visiting Zoe suggestion. “What’s up?”

  “Did Viktor talk with you about training us to do more of the navigation?”

  “No, Juan did, and I thought it was an excellent idea.”

  Daide angled his gaze to the clock sitting high on one wall. “We’re supposed to be on the bridge at sixteen hundred.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll be there. It’s a couple of hours from now.”

  A harsh, grinding noise reverberated in the pit of Recco’s guts. “Fuck. More pack ice.”

  The deck canted from port to starboard and back, its movement more pronounced.

  “Listen up.” Viktor’s voice crackled over the PA system. “We’re headed closer inland to ride out this storm. My plan is to tuck Arkady in between Siple Island and the continent. There used to be a year-round ice shelf there, so it’s a risk, but one I’m willing to take.”

  “Not thinking you’ll need survival gear,” Juan cut in. “Put your outside clothing on and your pack boots and life vest, anyway. Don’t forget warm hats and your mitts. Tuck anything you can’t live without in your pockets. We’ll let you know when you don’t need them any longer.”

  “Move to the bridge as soon as you’re dressed,” Viktor added. “So we’ll have everyone in one spot.”

  Recco hurried back to the microscope he’d been using and tucked it into its padded case. Daide did the same with the other three instruments. Opening the storage closet, he set them inside.

  “See you on the bridge,” Daide said. “In full regalia.”

  “No kidding. Hope they have a few windows open, or we’ll bake in there.”

  “Better than being dead.” Daide loped through the door and vaulted up the nearby stairwell with Recco on his heels.

  Karin met them partway down. “The microscopes—?” she began.

  “We took care of them,” Daide reassured her. “Better get duded up.”

  Karin chuckled. “Science first. Safety second.” Turning, she trudged back up the risers.

  “No.” Daide’s tone was somber. “If you put safety second, you might not be around to keep the science part going.”

  Recco turned down a side corridor that led to his cabin. He dressed fast, since everything hung on hooks, and he’d layered up and down so many times, it had become second nature. He started for the bridge and then detoured, heading for Zoe’s cabin. It was probably ridiculous since she had to be dressed and gone, but he knocked on her door anyway.

  “Come in,” she called.

  Recco pushed the door open, awkward with his mitten-clad hands.

  Zoe sat at her desk surrounded by sheets of paper. Closely written script punctuated with drawings covered them. Her eyes widened. “Why are you dressed for the Zodiacs?”

  “Didn’t you hear Viktor and Juan over the PA system?”

  “Nay. I had it turned off so I could concentrate.” She closed her teeth over her lower lip. “The sea’s been getting rougher—”

  Zoe leapt to her feet, eyes wide with apprehension. She was tall and thin like the rest of them. No one had survived the Cataclysm years with any meat on their bones.

  “Awk. Christ.” Her soft brogue rolled over him. “Sure and we’re not sinking, are we? Wouldn’t there have been warning horns or something?”

  He hustled toward her. The ship lurched, and the door slammed shut behind him. “No. We’re sheltering in the lee of some island. They want us dressed for outside in case...”

  “We hit submerged ice or rocks or a berg.” She saved him the trouble of soft-pedaling the truth and grabbed clothing off her bed, dressing fast. “Where are we assembling?”

  “Bridge. Where else?” He smiled. No matter how dangerous things were, being in the same space with Zoe made his heart light. “Bet you were one of those who turned your cell phone off too.”

  “Busted. All the time. It was such an annoying little bugger.” She zipped into her parka and stuffed her feet into Pac boots. “It’s a relief we’re meeting on the bridge.”

  “Why?”

  “If things were really bad, they’d have us wait at the gangway to load into the rafts. Could you gather up my worksheets and stuff them into a drawer, so they don’t end up scattered to hell and back?”

  He scooped the papers into a pile, opened a side drawer, and dropped them inside. “Looks like a lot of work,” he ventured while she tucked her bright curls beneath a woolen cap.

  She trained her soft, brown eyes on him. “Not so bad once I got rolling. I’m one of those with an eidetic memory. Once I hit the right spot in my brain, material automatically downloads.”

  Recco thought about the endless hours he’d spent memorizing anatomy and physiology from dozens of species. “You’re lucky.”

  She nodded. “Aye. I know. I’m ready.”

  Another long, growling howl filled the air as the hull scraped against something. “Crap. That didn’t sound good.” A worried look pinched the edges of her eyes into pinwheels.

  “Not as bad as you think.” Recco tried to project a confidence he wasn’t certain of. “The hull has two layers, so you get a reverberating effect when anything hits the outer portion. Come on.” He extended a hand, and she grasped it, awkward with her padded mitts.

  Three flights later, they emerged on Deck Six. Climbing the stairs had required both hands as they clutched railings spanning every stairwell a
nd corridor on the ship. He’d kept Zoe in front of him so he could catch her in case she slipped.

  “Doing okay?” he asked once they cleared the last of the stairs.

  “Mostly grateful I got over being seasick.” She opened the door leading into the bridge, and he followed her through.

  It looked as if they were the last to arrive.

  Aura hastened to Zoe. “Where were you? I was very close to going after you.” With her blonde hair, green eyes, and sharp cheekbones, she projected a simple elegance that transcended the thick, nondescript clothing.

  Zoe tossed her hood back. “I had the PA system turned off. Sorry.”

  While Aura hugged Zoe, clucking over her, Recco trotted to the windows. Hail, sleet, rain, and snow took turns pounding the glass. The windows were steamy on this side. Even if they hadn’t been, visibility was almost zero.

  He moved to where Viktor and Juan huddled over the wheel. “Tell me to get lost if you need to concentrate, but how the hell can you tell where we’re going?”

  “Combination of luck and skill, mate.” Viktor grinned; it didn’t reach his eyes.

  Boris d’Costa, one of the passengers they’d picked up on their ill-fated stop on King George Island, moved away from the back of the bridge. Average height, and far too thin, he had long, tangled black hair, a scraggly beard, and deep-set dark eyes. “If we hold to this heading,” he said, “we should make the strait with a cushion on both sides.”

  “Thanks.” Viktor nodded brusquely. Tall, broad-shouldered, and green-eyed with tawny hair, he would have cut an impressive figure in any setting. Right now, he looked like one of the ancient Vikings sailing his boat into the teeth of a roaring storm.

  Juan tossed a puffy, orange coat at Viktor. “Put this on, amigo.” Built similarly to Viktor, Juan was very blonde with shrewd hazel eyes. Both men’s cheeks were covered with stubble.

  “What? Don’t fancy saving me from drowning again?” Viktor stuffed his arms into the survival coat.

  “I’m not going to bother answering you.” Juan tapped Boris’s shoulder. “Let’s go over those calculations one more time. I want to make certain we didn’t screw this up.”

  “What you mean”—Boris inclined his head—“is you want to make double damn sure I followed your directions.”

  “Yeah. That too. Andale, amigo.”

  The two of them walked to the chart table, heads bent in conversation.

  “Anything I can do?” Recco asked Viktor.

  “Since you mentioned it. Here.” Viktor pulled a two-way radio from a cabinet built into the wall behind him. “Take this, go outside, and tell me if we’re on a collision course with anything.”

  Recco took the radio, checking its operation. “Don’t you have instruments that do the same thing?”

  “You bet, but I’m old-fashioned. You’re my insurance policy.”

  “Presuming I can see my hand in front of my face.” Recco turned to go.

  “Take these with you, mate. They’ll help.” Viktor dragged a set of goggles from the same place he’d gotten the radios. “Check in with me once you’re in position, and then every few minutes.”

  Recco met Viktor’s direct green gaze. “Even if I see something, will you have enough time to institute corrective measures.”

  Viktor shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve only lost one ship. Not planning to sink another. Now, get moving, or I’ll assign the task to someone else.”

  Zoe joined Recco when he was halfway out the door. “I heard most of your conversation. Would you like some help?”

  Her willingness to abandon the warmth of the bridge for the raging storm touched him to the bottom of his soul. “You don’t have to—” he began.

  “I know, but I want to. Besides, two of us have a better chance of keeping the ship safe, and I can sense magical forces better than you.” She dangled goggles in front of him. “I came prepared.”

  “I have a feeling prepared is your middle name.” He kicked his hood back far enough to position the goggles and snugged the parka around his head once more.

  “Busted again.” Zoe mirrored his actions with her goggles. “I swear, you must have a spy who’s been watching me and reporting back to you. Wow. The wind is romping.”

  Recco draped an arm around her shoulders, stabilizing her as they moved outside on one of two side decks that wrapped around the bridge. He keyed the mike to let Viktor know he was in position. It chirped as Viktor did the same from inside.

  The amber-tinted goggles did help, making it possible to see something beyond a gray cloud bank. Arkady nosed forward exceedingly slowly. Waves slapped the ship from both sides, boiling around them. The air was thick with cold salty spray. Ice floes surrounded them, banging against the hull.

  “Must be Siple Island over there.” Zoe pointed at a land mass rising out of the mist.

  Recco stared ahead, willing his eyes to greater sharpness. “Never mind the island. The ice dead ahead is solid, isn’t it?”

  Zoe leaned into him and bent forward. “Not quite solid.”

  “Yes. I see the same opening.” Recco keyed his mike and held the radio directly in front of his mouth so the howling wind wouldn’t drown out his words.

  “Ice. We need to move maybe five degrees toward the continent.”

  “Damn it. I’ll be right there. I’ll angle to portside first, and then I need to see for myself.”

  Recco opened his mouth to tell Viktor to hurry; the whining shriek of metal hitting ice obliterated his words.

  He and Zoe were thrown forward and then back. Somehow, he kept hold of her and the radio.

  Viktor lurched outside, cursing in German. “Lucky for us, global warming weakened the ice shelf, or I’d never have tried this. Hang onto something,” he yelled at Recco and Zoe. “It’s going to get rough cutting through it.”

  Recco had a hard time imagining it getting much rougher, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Zoe’s face—what little he could see of it—had turned into a rictus of fear. She didn’t escape into the bridge, though.

  “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.” He aimed his words near her ear.

  “Och, aye,” was followed by a spate of Gaelic.

  “What’d you just say?”

  “Ye doona want to know. Thank all the bluidy fecking saints we’re still moving. I’ve read about boats getting stuck in pack ice.”

  Recco had too, and none of it was pretty. “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s count off landmarks as we pass them. You go first.”

  She tilted her chin at a defiant angle and pointed with a mittened hand. “The huge boulder.”

  “Good call.”

  “Your turn.”

  “Come on, woman. Give me a break. I can’t see shit.”

  The radio crackled. “Talk with me, mate,” Viktor urged. “It’s why you’re out there.”

  “No obstacles in our immediate path,” Recco reported. “We’re maybe halfway into the ice.”

  “Keep talking,” Viktor urged. “The depth sounder only goes so far, and it only paints the area beneath the hull.”

  Zoe shot a pointed glance his way. Apparently, Viktor’s explanation didn’t set well.

  Recco adopted what he hoped was a reassuring expression. “Hey. There’s your boulder. I call the next one. The black obelisk rising out of the mist.”

  “Did you feel that?” she asked in a strained voice.

  Her question caught him off guard. Did she think he was stupid? “Of course I feel the ice we’re moving through.”

  “Not what I meant. Something’s out there, and it has nothing to do with ice and water. Not directly, anyway.”

  Understanding sank in, and his gut tightened. Her bitter-fruit expression hadn’t had anything to do with Viktor’s comments. “Do you know what it is?”

  “Nay. I used telepathy to sound an alarm. Between all of us, mayhap we can figure things out afore whatever is lurking blows up in our face like the bastard mage who killed Rowana back on King George Island.” />
  Chapter Three: Sail on By

  Zoe wanted to slap her hands over her ears. The infernal music was back, but it came from inside her head, so blocking her ears wouldn’t help. Ice grated, harsh and strident. It made a hell of a racket but didn’t come close to drowning out the discordant notes.

  “Does this have something to do with the music Ketha mentioned?” Recco trained worried dark eyes on her face.

  “Sure and she shouldn’t have told you about it.”

  The radio crackled to life. Before Viktor could say anything, Recco beat him to the punch. “Almost through the ice shelf, amigo.”

  “Are we past the narrowest waters?”

  Zoe peered through the murk, grateful for the goggle’s green-tinted lenses. “Looks like it.” She angled her mouth near the radio.

  “I’m going to drop anchor in about five hundred yards.” The radio crackled once again and quieted.

  Between the storm that didn’t seem much better here than it had on the open ocean side of Siple Island and the music, Zoe longed for a good, stiff belt of whiskey, followed by enough additional shots to make everything fade into an alcoholic haze. She wouldn’t actually blitz herself into oblivion. Not now, but she craved a break. From everything. She was an academic, for chrissakes. Not a bloody warrior queen.

  The door to the bridge whooshed open, slamming against its stops. Ketha, Karin, and Aura crowded onto the small platform. Recco moved aside to give the women room to stand next to one another and wrestled the door back into place.

  Zoe wanted him standing next to her, the comforting bulk of his body shielding hers. It was pure indulgence; she had work to do. Work that had nothing to do with what may well be a one-sided attraction. Recco enjoyed her company. She was certain of that, but not of his reasons. For all she knew, she might remind him of a kid sister or a favorite female cousin.

  A shock wave buffeted her as the women joined their magic.

  Ketha’s eyes—about the only visible part of her face—rounded. “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding about the kid and his keyboard.”