by Anna Burke
“Hey. Talk to me.”
The worry in Harper’s voice pulled me back. “I’m fine.”
I was better than fine. With the ocean in me, I was liquid possibility. I was useful. I was me. I hadn’t realized how lost I’d felt without it.
“Okay, then. You ready?”
“Yes.” It was even true. Together Harper and I left the rooms that had turned into my world and entered the hall.
Walking with Harper was a risk. If someone wanted to take out the Archipelago presence on the ship, all they had to do was corner us. I refused to show my fear. Sailors avoided our eyes even as I sought theirs, looking for answers.
“You’re making them nervous,” Harper hissed in my ear.
“What?”
She lowered her voice further. “Miranda killed someone yesterday. Nobody wants to be seen as a threat to you, in case she decides to off more of them.”
“She wouldn’t—”
“The woman carves her mark into people’s palms.”
“That’s—” It wasn’t different, my newly cleared mind informed me. Miranda was dangerous and, at times, unpredictable. They were right to be afraid. I recalled the smoothness of her lunge as she’d pulled her knife on my assailant. She struck like an eel. Pirates valued that in a leader until it was turned on them.
“Why?” I asked Harper as another sailor threw her a cautious nod.
“Why what?”
“Why don’t they hate you the way they hate me?”
We couldn’t look at each other and also keep an eye out for threats as we walked, and so I was spared whatever expression came over her face. Was bluntness a side effect of the drug? Harper had to know how I felt about the crew’s lukewarm feelings toward me compared to how they felt about her, but we’d never spoken of it.
“Because I’m not fucking their captain.”
“Just her first mate.”
“It’s different, Rose. And also . . .” she trailed off, and I dared a glance at her. She watched an approaching sailor for a moment before continuing. “Miranda’s theirs. Or at least, that’s how they feel.”
“No shit. She’s their captain.” The drug was definitely making me blunt. I’d need to watch my tongue.
“That’s not what I mean. She’s their legend. They pulled her out of the water. They gave her a new life, and she led them to victory. Or she used to anyway. You’re part of a different legend, and they don’t know what it is. I’m just an engineer to them.”
“And Comita’s daughter.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Are we really going to raid a station?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
Neither of us said anything else about it as we continued on our way. I catalogued everything I could recall from the last few weeks, hoping to sort out new meaning, now that thinking didn’t make me feel ill. A ship that managed to avoid sonar. The hatred in the eyes of their captain, right before I lost consciousness. He’d obviously been raided by the sea wolves; what else could explain his reaction to my eyes? That meant they were not only real, but had been close. We could have even sailed right past them without noticing, assuming they had the same technology as the ship that had snuck up on us. How had the sea wolves found that ship? How did the sonar deflection work? And did our attackers use it for raiding, or for protection from the sea wolves? The more I learned about the wolves, the less I wanted to meet them, and the more convinced I became they wouldn’t help us even if we did find them. Better to give up and live, assuming Ching didn’t kill us.
You elected the wrong bloody captain.
If we didn’t do something soon, she wouldn’t be a captain at all.
I stepped onto the bridge like I belonged there and hadn’t been absent for weeks. Miranda looked up, froze, and then nodded as if she’d expected me. Whispers broke out. It all felt so horribly familiar. Harper saluted and then left for engineering, leaving me to face the eyes turned in my direction.
“Our heading’s off,” I said to Reya.
“You don’t even know where we’re going.” Was that hatred in her voice, or just surprise I was up and walking?
“Aren’t we going to Crux?”
Miranda listened from across the room.
“Not . . . that I’m aware of,” said Reya. “Captain?”
“Change of plans, Reya.”
“Crux it is then.” She opened the binder of charts beneath her arm. “Since you’re back, plot us a course.”
Technically, I supervised her, but I let the command slide and took the charts.
“Is this the most up-to-date?”
“Should be.”
I analyzed the approximate coordinates for Crux, wondering. Would things have changed since Ching’s attack? We needed intel before we sailed in blind. I didn’t trust that the stations had remained where I’d last seen them on a chart. If I were the council—or Comita—I would have moved everything to throw off future attacks. Kraken’s spies might know. I approached Miranda. She studied the water beyond the plex with her hands behind her back and an expression that might, charitably, have been called unhappy. Murderous was a better fit.
“Captain?”
“Glad you could join us.”
Cold water slid down my spine. We were back to this, then. In my concussed state, I’d managed to partially convince myself we hadn’t broken up. “I was hoping to get your opinion on the course.”
“Yes, because you value my opinion highly enough to disobey a direct order to stay confined to quarters.”
“Should we go to the chart room?” The hum of the ship wasn’t loud enough to drown out our argument.
“Fine.”
Let her be angry. The drug Harper had given me burned away feelings of remorse. She thought she wanted me safe, but she needed me functional, needed me to prove to her crew that I wasn’t afraid, that I belonged here.
“What are you doing?” she asked the minute we were alone.
“You’re planning a raid. You need me.”
“I’ve raided without you before. In fact, I’ve never actually raided with you, have I?” Her blue eyes looked the way I imagined icebergs might have looked when caught by the sun.
“They’ll have moved Crux after Ching’s attack. They know they’ve been compromised. We need—”
“Kraken’s on it. I gave you an order, and you disobeyed me.”
“With all due respect, Captain, if I hide, it will only make things worse. I’m your navigator. We need to remind them of that.”
She frowned at me, then put her fingers to my chin and tilted my face up. “You’re high. Rose, what did you do?”
I pushed her away. “It’s a stimulant.”
“Who gave it to you?”
The drug in me ignored the danger in her. “It doesn’t matter. It’s working.”
“Who. Gave. It. To. You.” Each word was a threat.
I pulled my chin out of her grip. “I took it. No one gave it to me. This is the first time I’ve felt good in—”
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know I’m your navigator. Let me navigate.”
“Neptune, I’m trying to keep you alive, and you—” She broke off. “It was Harper, wasn’t it? That makes perfect fucking sense. You don’t know, either of you, the cost of what you just put into your body.”
“I know I’ll crash hard.”
“We used to use that during raids when the fights lasted more than a few hours. It will keep you going, but when it’s done—it can kill you. You could end up in a coma.”
“So use me while I’m here.”
She looked, for a moment, like she wanted to scream. I hung on to north and let it fill me until I felt the earth’s magnetic field wrap around me like an embrace.
“So be it.” Miranda pointed at the chart. “What do you need from me?”
“I can get us there undetected. Tell me how close to bring us. If we wait for a storm or a swarm to give us cover, that
will help. And I can get us out again.”
“Here.” She jabbed her finger at the chart, then tore a sheet from the back of her logbook and wrote down my dictated instructions.
“This will bring Comita down on us,” I said when I finished.
“She’s busy elsewhere.”
“But Orion’s close by, and they have a big fleet, too.”
“They’ll be trying to decide whether or not to help Comita with her coup. By the time Crux reports ships missing, we’ll be gone.”
“Then we shouldn’t expect much retaliation.” I studied the charts, aware I should be feeling reservations about raiding my former home, but unable to tap into any emotion besides the driving need to act.
“No more.”
“What?” I was loath to look up from the charts, but the roughness of Miranda’s voice compelled me.
“Don’t smoke this again.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Now get up. I clearly can’t leave you alone, which means you’ll be coming with me.”
I hadn’t reckoned on that outcome. Standing—and enjoying how easily my body managed the feat—I grabbed what I needed and followed her out of the chart room back to the bridge. We lingered there a while and I worked on the floor, charts around me, until Miranda ordered me up.
Next was the vessel bay. Here, Kraken and a crew of engineers looked over the smaller vessels we used for parley, trade, attacks, and, apparently, espionage. Our trawler, Sea Cat, bobbed in a far corner. I prayed to gods no one had believed in for centuries we wouldn’t need it.
Orca leapt from the deck of a ship and landed in front of us. “Cutter’s sharpened. Breaching should be easy. Engines look good, too. This one, though.”
Miranda listened as Orca explained the problems with our little fleet. I settled myself on a crate and pulled the charts out again. My mind still felt keen as a whetted knife. Possible courses presented themselves with ease. Avoiding detection while we searched for the station would be simple. Deep swarms offered ample protection, obscuring sonar, and no one was looking for us. Ching had been defeated. The Archipelago probably felt like they’d been granted a reprieve.
“Feeling like bilge water yet?” Miranda asked as we left the docking bay and wound up toward the hydrofarm.
“I feel fine.”
“Great. Stay alert, then.”
I eyed the rows of piping and the plants growing from them, and then paused by the tanks where we grew nori, eel, squid, and fish. The dark green-brown fronds waved in the pump-circulated water. The motion hypnotized me until Miranda tugged at my sleeve and pulled me onward.
Medicinal plants were grown in a different room, along with the vats of algae. Nic’s workers pruned and harvested and examined the plants for disease as Miranda strode through them. Hydrotechs moved out of her way and continued working. That seemed like a good sign; the urge to mutiny hadn’t reached these ranks, at least not outwardly, and no one sprang to assassinate me from behind a stalk of kale.
Nic emerged from a tank and pulled off their mask and breathing apparatus, which was nothing more than a long tube connecting to the surface. They hadn’t put on a suit, and their wet clothes clung to their body as they shook water out of their eyes.
“How are we on inventory?” Miranda asked without preamble.
“Getting there. They mostly wanted algae, which is recovering. Took all our methane reserves, though. I’m doing what I can with the biofuel strains, but you know how it is. Time.”
“I know.” Her voice lost its edge. “Make a list of what you’d want me to look out for, if opportunities arise.”
“Equipment.” Nic listed the equipment the Archipelago had given to us, which the pirates had stolen. Now, we’d steal from Crux—one of the stations that could least afford it.
Don’t think like that. We couldn’t get through Polaris or Orion’s fleet, other pirates didn’t have what we needed, and going back to Comita—well. That offered just as many ways to die as this did. Orca and Kraken were right. Miranda needed to distract her crew, and a raid would accomplish that.
I ran my hands over the beds of greens while Miranda consulted with Nic. Tiny leaves pricked my palms. Everything came down to sustenance. Growing things. Fresh water. Purification. The life flowing in all our veins was tied to the sea, and the sea wanted us dead. I settled into the currents and felt them shift around us, massive systems altered by my ancestors, but still adapting, changing, moving ever forward. We needed to be more like that. Maybe I’d been wrong to dismiss Miranda’s idealism. We’d remained static for years. Change was overdue.
Don’t start giving me hope, I warned the drug in my system.
“Rose.”
I pulled my hand away from the dark green leaves and followed my captain.
Crew whispered in our wake as Miranda made the rounds of the ship. I channeled all the confidence I could muster into the tilt of my chin, imagining an iron bar in place of my spine, iron filings pointing north and drawing me upright with them. Ching would not send me into hiding. I would not cower behind Miranda’s closed doors while Ching reminded the crew who’d given them Miranda in the first place. Let them paint me as the enemy. I knew the truth. The drug burned away my guilt in a swath of glorious fury. I was no more Archipelagean at this point than Miranda, and it had been Ching’s sailors who had chased me into the passage. She bore the same blame I did.
The promised crash came after dinner. I walked beside Miranda, aware of the anger still vibrating off her skin, and the door to our quarters—her quarters, I reminded myself—spun as I approached. Miranda opened the whirlpool into the room beyond. Gasping, I stepped inside as the currents and the cardinal points and all my courage were stripped away by a howling darkness. When I woke, the pain had returned a thousandfold, and Miranda sat beside me, crying.
East
Captain’s Log
Captain Miranda Stillwater
Man o’ War
February 25, 2514
11°52’12”N, 4°28’48”W
Raid scheduled to replete lost inventory and restore morale. Mission to Symbiont forestalled at the moment.
[Redacted]
Instructions: The following letter is to be given to Compass Rose in the event of my death.
Rose, I’m sorry. You were right to ask for time. You should never have given me any of your time. I wanted to protect you. But you’re right: that isn’t my call. You were naïve, when you came to my ship, but not as naïve as I thought you were—or as you thought you were. You surprised me. You surprised all of us. I’m not half as brave. When Amaryllis found me, I wanted to die. She gave me purpose, and she loved me, Rose, and she trusted me, which was a mistake. But she recognized something in me. It’s the same thing I recognized in her, and that I recognized in Comita, and, yes, that I recognized in you. We’re all willing to burn for what we believe in.
I’m not making excuses for her. She’s cold. She’s brutal. And I loved her, too. Not like I love you. She and I were never like that. But I know what it’s like to love someone like me: someone who can be monstrous. And, as I did, you eventually came to your senses and acted according to your principles. I hate that I’m proud of you for that.
The people I love get hurt, Rose. When we first started this, I told myself I wouldn’t let you matter to me. That you were just a pretty pair of eyes. I couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. But then I got to know you. I saw the rage in you, beneath the surface, and I recognized it. We both know what it is to be tossed away. Because of that, I should have trusted you to understand. You deserve someone who respects you enough to trust you with their failures and their fears, as well as their successes. I wanted to be that person for you. But it was always going to take a long time to work past these scars, if I ever could. Still, I would have selfishly asked for your patience. I would have given you all the time you needed, and I would have been there, waiting, whenever you were ready.
Love,
Miranda
Chapter Nine
A hand shook me awake. I groaned, pain subsuming all other sensation.
“Was it worth it?”
If I squinted, I could make out the blurry shape of Miranda’s face. What I could see of it suggested blurriness was preferable. “Huh?”
“You’ve been out for a full day.”
Out . . . where? Automatically, I reached for the currents and the cardinal points. I hit a steel wall. Right. My head, the drug, Miranda’s anger.
“Mere—”
“Don’t.”
She pulled away from me and stood. I bullied my body into rising into a sitting position and blinked through my double vision until I could make out her face: fury, anguish, and love.
“You need me functional.”
“I need you, Rose.” The rawness of her voice spoke of fear, and I remembered her warning about the drug’s side effects. I remembered, too, how under its influence I’d been able to reach north.
“I’m okay.” To prove this, I got up despite the agony of movement and fumbled for my clothing.
“I’ll have the charts brought to you. Stay here today.”
“No.”
“That’s an order.”
“Can you keep your voice down?”
“Maybe your head wouldn’t hurt if you hadn’t—”
“Just shut up, Miranda.”
She froze. I pulled off my shirt and eased myself into a clean one. When my head broke the hemline, I met her eyes. They flashed with unmistakable temper, but I knew her well enough to see the hurt she couldn’t mask.
“Mere—”
“You overstep, navigator.”
She left me there.
I contemplated going after her, but I felt too ill. Instead, I slumped back on the bed and stroked Seamus’s soft fur.
“Should I tell her what is really wrong with me?” I asked him.
He purred in response.
No. I couldn’t. Not with how things currently lay between us. I’d told her I just wanted to be her navigator—and now here I was, unable to navigate when she needed me most. I was not going to let her sail blind with Ching Shih on our ship. Seas only knew where Ching would lead us. My hands didn’t shake as I removed the jar from its hiding place in the bottom of my drawer, secreted within the coconut Harper had carved for me long ago. I lit the pipe and inhaled. Clarity was worth it. I refused to analyze anything beyond that. Disobeying Miranda would have consequences, but I feared obeying her could lead to worse.
