The Panagea Tales Box Set

by McKenzie Austin

  A series of hushed whispers came from the crew as they exchanged glances with one another. Umbriel stood alongside them and remained quiet as they digested what Kazuaki said. Nicholai narrowed his eyes, skeptical of the captain’s announcement. He indicated nothing of the sort on the island. Though Nicholai had been busy feeling sorry for himself after discovering the unflattering truth of the early Time Fathers. He didn’t have much of an opportunity to dive into his book, with the expectations Kazuaki had of him during the ship’s careening, but every spare minute he earned went into reading it. There was no mention of the Earth Mothers’ slaughter and to add insult to injury, nothing that would be of any use to help Lilac. But something Kazuaki said caused him to perk up for the first time in a while. The way the captain spoke filled him with a hint of hope.

  After a moment of quieted discussion, Iani stepped forward to separate himself from the rest. “The world, Captain?” he tilted his head, skeptical whether he should make a sarcastic remark or try to understand the gravity of Kazuaki’s seriousness. “Seems a bit of an undertaking for just the ten of us.”

  “Eleven,” Umbriel sounded. She smiled as everyone turned and looked at her. “I’m certain I can heal Panagea, under the right conditions.”

  Nicholai’s eyes fell as he tried to make mental calculations. He witnessed Umbriel’s ability to grow plants out of her own energy during their stay on the island. Her place was a paradise, rich with oxygen and food sources, everything Panagea was not. If she could remedy Panagea from what ailed it, if the world was not collapsing—not only would he have more time to save Lilac, but they could save the people of Panagea too. “Twelve,” he announced, straightening up as he stepped forward. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

  Kazuaki arched a disbelieving brow. He familiarized himself with Nicholai’s energy shift after the revelations he came to on Umbriel’s island. The captain suspected the man would wallow longer in his pity. He did not have much time to dwell on it though as his comrades fired more questions.

  Rennington stepped forward. “With all due respect, why do we suddenly care about Panagea now? She’s never cared for any of us,” he said, motioning to those who stood beside him. “We can’t even set foot on her shores without risking our own lives.”

  “That’s not Panagea,” Umbriel interjected as her eyes fell on Rennington. “The wrath stems from those who rule. We mustn’t punish her for the deeds of those who tread upon her.”

  “I understand this must come across as confusing,” Kazuaki admitted. “You are not wrong. It is dangerous and the people of Panagea have spurned us. But this world is to be my home forever, as I refuse to join Mimir in his afterlife,” he said, trying to stave off his growing rage at the thought. “I will not stand by and watch the world die knowing I cannot go with it. I’ve resigned myself to my fate, but I will not force it upon any of you. Umbriel and I discussed it. We plan to get her to land and let her regrow Panagea one ecosystem at a time. She is confident once the plants grow large enough, long enough, they can leach out centuries worth of toxins and create a more suitable place to live. Less environmental deaths, fewer natural disasters, no more walking around with oxygen injections in your pocket, no more black lung ... just ... a better place.” Kazuaki trailed off as if lost in his vision. He respected the sea and all it gave him, he’d be damned if anyone told him where he couldn’t walk anymore. Clearing his throat to push it out of his mind, the captain continued, “We’ll meet resistance. The Time Fathers will not appreciate the change, I’m sure, and they will use their militaries to make that point known,” Kazuaki muttered, a slow grin spreading across his face. “But it sure would be nice to give them one final ‘feck you’, wouldn’t it?”

  Brack matched the captain’s grin and stepped forward, clenching his fist. “I’m always happy to stick it to those self-righteous feckers,” he said. He paused and turned to Nicholai. “I mean ... not you—”

  “It’s okay, Brack,” Nicholai’s voice was dim, but he forced a small smile. He hoped he was nothing like the Time Fathers Brack wished to ‘stick it to’.

  “I want you all to know you keep the option to leave,” Kazuaki added as he gazed out at his comrades. “You’ve all exceeded my expectations. You’ve served me well, and you’ve served me long. Should you wish to take your leave, I will not blame you.”

  It was a lot to take in. The captain’s plans were a far cry from their traditional undertakings. But behind every bad memory, under each rotten experience, Panagea was their home. Nostalgia crept into their minds and they thought about what it could be.

  Elowyn could challenge the patriarchal society.

  Bartholomew could initiate a desire for learning again; he could teach the people there was more to life than machines, that knowledge paved the way for a better tomorrow too.

  Revi could build a better world for the children he abandoned, even if he was too terrified to return to them.

  Iani and Rennington could regain their patriotism by fighting for a land they believed in.

  Granite could invite wilderness back into Panagea and pave the way for a place where animals like the beast could live without fear of death.

  Penn would follow anywhere. Bad-tempered but loyal to a fault, he would never abandon his family. Not when he knew how terrible it felt to be without one.

  And Brack ... Brack was just happy to be along for the ride.

  With the right guidance, it could have been the home they all wanted. After several minutes of exchanged glances, the crew stepped forward one by one. “You know I would never leave,” Bartholomew said as he placed a hand on the captain’s shoulder.

  “Nor us,” Rennington stole a glimpse of Iani. “It’ll be nice to fight for something we believe in for a change, aye, little brother?”

  Iani grinned and saluted Kazuaki. “The Platts brothers are here for you, Cap, through and through.”

  “And me.” Elowyn stepped beside her self-appointed brothers with a nod.

  “And me,” Granite added without flare.

  Penn shrugged, feigning half-heartedness, though anyone who understood him well enough knew he’d never abandon his family. “Well, someone’s got to feed you,” he muttered.

  Revi watched everyone else fall in line and nodded after he found Kazuaki’s gaze. He left too many important people behind. He wouldn’t do it again. “Til the bitter end, Captain.”

  Kazuaki returned the nod and shifted his gaze to Bermuda. He awaited her reply. She stared at him with disassociation. “We’re not heroes, Captain,” she stated, her voice flat. “Since when are we in the business of saving lives?”

  If the captain suffered at all from Bermuda’s hesitation, he did not show it. The old Bermuda would have seized the moment and never looked back. But she was not the old Bermuda. Not yet. Though he knew it was pointless, as she had not yet begun her treatments with Umbriel, Kazuaki approached her and laid both hands on her shoulders. “We’ve always been in the business of saving lives, Bermuda,” he said, trying to find her eyes with his. “We just always tried to save our own. This ship served as a lifeline to every one of us, cradling us in the waves of the sea, far from the reach of whatever we ran from on land. The lot of us, we’ve run from prosecution, from the military, from the oppressive thumbs of our division leaders, from ourselves—we’ve all taken refuge on this ship.”

  Bermuda stared at the captain, her face blank. She tried to find meaning in his words, but she couldn’t. Her eyes darted around his face and she parted her lips to say something, but nothing came out.

  Kazuaki closed his eye for a moment, reveling in the seconds he got to be in proximity to her, even if she didn’t understand. He opened his eye again and gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I know. It’s out of our realm. You’re right, Bermuda, we’re not heroes. We’re something far better.” Kazuaki leaned forward and whispered, “We’re legends.”

  Umbriel observed the two as Kazuaki shut out the world around him. He only existed at that moment
with Bermuda. She smiled as the other members of the crew grew excited. To be a part of something big, they developed anticipation. She saw it in their eyes.

  Bermuda’s face lingered a handful of inches from Kazuaki’s until she nodded. “All right, Captain. I’m in. You never steered us wrong before.”

  A brief look of relief washed over the otherwise poised captain’s face. Nicholai watched it appear as quickly as it vanished. He took a step back and let the heat of the moment fall over him. In the last months, he witnessed these people steal and kill if it suited them without a second thought. But he also witnessed little moments of redemption: the duty of protection the Platts brothers shared, the love between Granite and his dog, the fierce threads of loyalty which weaved through them all, and now, as he watched this small band of misfits pull together to save Panagea ...

  Perhaps he judged them too soon.

  “What division do you plan to start with?” Revi asked.

  Kazuaki tore himself away from Bermuda and readjusted his focus. “It would be wisest to choose a place where the reigning Time Father is the most ... ‘disliked’. If people are hungry for change, it will be easier implementing it.”

  They all turned to Nicholai and awaited his reply. He blinked and shrugged as they caught him off guard. “Uh, it’s a toss-up. It would be between Eastern and Southern. Avital York has always put out the lowest collective morale as far back as I can remember, but he also possesses one of the largest militaries. Southern has also boasted low happiness amongst the public and Darjal’s army is impressive, but not as heavy as Avital’s.”

  “Eastern or Southern,” Kazuaki repeated as he turned to the crew. “Which is it, then? It makes no difference.”

  At once, the Platts brothers shouted, “Southern!”

  Kazuaki smirked. “Eager to get back to the homeland, boys?”

  Rennington scoffed. “The only thing I’m eager to do is turn that place into something worth fighting for.”

  “And maybe some capital punishment for Darjal Wessex,” Iani added with a grin.

  Nicholai frowned, about to open his mouth to protest the killings of any reigning leaders, but Umbriel interrupted him. “Then it’s decided,” she announced. “I will plant the seeds that will detoxify Panagea, but she’ll need a large scale reforestation effort in a short amount of time. Nicholai, I’ll need you to lend me your abilities if we’re to experience success.”

  The Time Father appeared perplexed. “Abilities? I’m sorry, Umbriel, I don't understand what you’re talking about,” he admitted.

  The Earth Mother tilted her head. “You do not know how to isolate time? For a specific object?”

  “Nobody has ever done that, so far as I know,” he replied while he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. It seems all fantasy.”

  “Not in the least,” she said, crossing over to Nicholai to bridge the distance between them. “Much like the Earth Mothers, the Time Fathers can give of themselves. We can give our energy to produce and grow the plant, but its growth is limited by the energy we house within ourselves. I could escalate a tree’s growth days, but never years. Not without time. Not without you.”

  Nicholai put a hand to his temple and tried to absorb what Umbriel said. It seemed far-fetched for her to know something about Time Fathers that he, or any of his predecessors, didn’t know. “I’m afraid I still wouldn’t be of help,” he admitted. “Even if what you’re saying is true, I don't know how to isolate time. Nobody does. Our Chronometers control our divisions’ times, but ... that’s it.”

  “Oh,” Umbriel’s expression shifted to one of pity. Nicholai's confession struck her as strange. Time Fathers always possessed the ability as far as she remembered. “It seems in their attempt to make themselves something greater, they lost more than they’ve gained. No matter, it’s simple. You can isolate an object and quicken its time by exchanging years off your life,” she explained with a smile.

  “Years off my—” Nicholai arched a brow. “Sure,” he said with cynicism, “sign me up. Let it be known worldwide that I restored plant life in Panagea and perished immediately after.”

  “Nicholai,” Umbriel laughed and shook her head. “I would not let you die. Any years you exchange from your life to grow the plants, I will replenish.” She looked wistful as she added, “That’s what made Time Fathers and Earth Mothers such great assets to one another.”

  Nicholai remained skeptical. His boots paced on the ship deck. He tried to make sense of things. He did not know how any of the Time Fathers would react to Umbriel’s return after she remained banished for so long. He wasn’t even certain if all the existing Time Fathers knew about her. Maybe if he didn't know, some others didn't either. Edvard, he hoped, at the least, did not know. Then again, whether or not they knew of her, they knew the earth was crumbling. Nordjan mentioned it at every meeting with Nicholai; it was the primary focus of their discussions and their efforts to combat it all failed. If there was a way Umbriel could reverse the negative effects that ravaged Panagea, wouldn’t they give it a shot? Nicholai drew in a deep breath before he turned to Umbriel. “How can we be sure this will work? How does planting a few trees fix an entire continent?”

  Umbriel smiled. “All good things take time, Nicholai. I do not know the full extent of Panagea’s pain, but no matter where I stand, I can feel her. She loves mankind so much she accepted the poisons he pumped into her for centuries, but it’s a toxic relationship. It cannot continue forever. We need to restore the balance, lest she withers away and we’re left without land to walk on. With enough plants, we can draw out these venoms, repair the ecosystems, and restore her to her former glory. The quest to further technology will be much easier if we have a healthy place to call home.”

  Nicholai tried to get a sense of comfort with her plan of action. When she mentioned furthering technology, he appeared confused. “You still want to continue on their path?” he asked, “even after what they did to you?”

  “Of course,” Umbriel beamed. “I understand the nature of their ambition. If we do not move forward, we remain stagnant—and a stagnant pond is never as useful as a fast-moving stream.”

  “You harbor no resentments? No bitterness for how they treated you?” Nicholai asked.

  “None,” Umbriel craned her neck back to look up at the sky. “They did what they thought was right. Now I must do what I think is right. I am not returning to destroy technology ... I am returning to restore the balance. The people of Panagea deserve the best of both worlds.”

  Nicholai nodded and gazed at the Chronometer that dangled around his neck. He wallowed in his bitterness for long enough. His lamenting did nothing positive for Southeastern and it did no good for Lilac. “Right,” he said, summoning new resolve as he straightened his posture. “Well, that’s it then. Though I’m sure Darjal will be unforgiving since we destroyed his library and stole his escape boat supplies ...”

  “And killed his footmen,” Iani interjected.

  Kazuaki smirked and looked toward Bartholomew. “I live for the moment I see Darjal’s face. Take us to Southern.”

  The navigator nodded with a confident grin. Newfound resolve filled him to the brim. To go down in history existed as one of Bartholomew’s greatest ambitions. Even better that it would be for something honorable. “Right away, Captain. We’ll be there in no time.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The day gave way to night as the ship rocked closer to Southern’s borders. Even with favorable winds pushing the sails along, many days and nights separated them from Panagea’s shores. Bermuda sat on the make-shift bed and gazed at all corners of Umbriel’s room. Kazuaki gifted it to the Earth Mother during her stay on the ship. It had been Jirin’s old room and remained vacant since Bartholomew shot him dead years prior. Paraphernalia still littered the space, but Umbriel whisked through it, cleaning up the pieces as Bermuda sat.

  “How long is this going to take?” Bermuda asked with impatience. She craved the ability to
get back to her duties.

  “Not long,” Umbriel informed her as she placed the bag of trash she accumulated in a corner of the room. She slipped over to Bermuda and sat beside her with a gentle smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting; I find I work better when I’m not surrounded by clutter.”

  “What exactly are you going to be doing?” Bermuda queried with caution. Kazuaki had been cryptic when he told the quartermaster Umbriel would administer treatments to her. Bermuda didn’t question it; though times existed where she second-guessed the captain’s motives, he never steered her wrong before. He mentioned something about her heart, but her heart felt fine. It pumped blood to all the right places, kept her alive, and fulfilled its purpose. She eyed Umbriel with apprehension as she sat beside her, unsure what to expect.

  The Earth Mother held up her hands, an aura of calm emanating from her. “It’s a detox of sorts,” she said, finding it hard to explain. “May I touch you?”

  A brow rose on Bermuda’s face. “It’s been a while since anyone ever asked me that,” she muttered. “But do what you have to do.”

  Umbriel smiled again, unbuttoned the top three buttons of Bermuda’s clothing, and laid her hands on the woman’s chest. The quartermaster stiffened, unprepared for the Earth Mother’s touch, despite her having gained consent. She tried not to breathe for fear her heaving chest would make Umbriel’s palms sink more into her skin. It was a foreign feeling to have another hand on her without clothing in between.