The Lost Star's Sea

by C. Litka

  03

  When we came to a wide, dark opening in the tangle of islands that DeArjen said was the passageway in, we paused for several hours to allow him time to get a nap in, and for the crew to enjoy a leisurely main meal. Captain KimTara said next to nothing at the meal, which was actually more than she usually said.

  'I'm told that we're nearly there,' she began. 'A couple more hours of sailing - through the passage ahead. I want to remind everyone that these are savage islands. We are uncertain of our reception. You should be aware of what is going on around you. The cage will not protect you from dangers like jungle snakes that we might pick up brushing against the trees or the arrows of natives. Keep your eyes open and portholes and doors shut until we've anchored. In fact, I would advise you to avoid the afterdeck entirely until we are through the passage.'

  Good, if not welcomed, advice.

  Once DeArjen had his rest, we realigned the ship and began to push through the dark channel in the tangled maze of little islands. The jungle closed in around us. It grew nearly as dark as night as we left the sky-sea - no more than a dwindling spot of light astern. We were now weaving our way - dead slow - through a narrow jungle-lined river, with the unbroken jungle all around us, close enough at times for it to scrape it's branches along the hull. In the always dim light, the jungle consisted of pale, wispy vines, and fungus that smelled of rot. The Captain issued a firm order to remain within the ship with all the doors, skylights and portals closed, to keep out who knew what sort of lizards and serpents, not to mention natives, we were stirring up as we pushed through.

  With the skylights closed, it quickly grew very hot in the engine room. I let the boilers cool a bit and relied more on our batteries, hoping we'd be through the passage before we were baked alive. Still, the heat, however intense, was better than snakes floating about.

  Our drive propellers were protected, in theory, from getting entangled in the vines and trees we brushed past and through by their surrounding cowling, but it was still a nerve wracking affair - any hint of the propellers encountering resistance needed to trigger their shut down or risk damaging the propellers or the electric engines, so we needed to pay constant attention to the indicator dials for each engine, looking for any spike of resistance and/or involuntary drop in rotation. This went on for the better part of a watch, until the bridge signaled that they were done with the engines.

  Having the watch, I saw to banking the boilers and winding things down in the engine room before climbing the maze of ladders up and out, onto the afterdeck to join the bulk of the crew taking in the sights of Scarlet Guard Island as it came to be known. And what a sight it was! I found it to be still twilight as I stepped out. Looking around, it almost seemed that we were inside just one large island, the surrounding islands were that packed together. This inner sea was lit by four long, ragged edged, vine-laced gaps in the islands above and around us, running nearly the length of the inland sea. We had apparently entered by the largest opening in one of them. Over, around and before us stretched a dim lit and pale jungle.

  This inner island sea, the Shadow Sea, was some 14 kilometers long, and 7 at the widest point, as measured by the ship's radar. Looking ahead, down the gut of the sea, I could see that at the far end, the inner sea narrowed to a twisting passage through sharp sided ridge lines that rose into the twilit hollow like fangs. Their dark, brooding shapes were faintly outlined by the shafts of light that slanted in through the rifts. The shore of the Shadow Sea was crisscrossed by crags, and black shadowed ravines, covered with thick vines and pale spindly jungles, dotted here and there with tall groves of thin bamboo growing in the narrow valleys. Other than the rift we had pushed our way through, the other vine laced openings looked to be too narrow to allow the ship to pass through them. However, it was impossible to see where the rocks of the islands left off and the vines and jungles began, so perhaps we could force the Lora Lakes through one of them, rather than return the way we came. Given the length of the passage we'd just navigated, finding a simple way out might be a better alternative, if we needed to make a hasty retreat.

  I bit back that thought, reminding myself that wasn't my concern. I sighed. I'd been very content for a long time aboard the Telrai Peaks to keep my nose out of the affairs of the bridge. Probably because they were so routine, and I wasn't her chief engineer. But aboard the Lora Lakes, as chief engineer, and with this voyage and its air of mystery about it, I was finding it much harder to do. I couldn't quite place my finger on why, exactly, but I guess I didn't trust ValDare. Not that he didn't seem honest enough, but rather it was that I was far from sure he'd outgrown the recklessness of his youth. I was, however, thankful for having KimTara as captain. I was pretty certain she'd not put up with any foolishness. Still, standing on the afterdeck, looking about at this dim-lit Shadow Sea, it didn't keep me from worrying. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with a rag as my inner voice, speaking from long experience, said, "You're deep in the drifts again, Litang."

  The Shadow Sea was alive with birds and lizards drifting like shadow-spirits in the gloom, their occasional strident calls adding no gaiety to the scene we viewed from the after deck. BinCar and his assistant were on the boat deck recording the scene. It didn't take long for ValDare, DeArjen and DeRaze to spy the red feathered bird-men, the mythical Scarlet Guard of the mythical Dragon Kings. They flitted about through the jungles like blood-red wraiths.

  'Are these the fellows you encountered on your little island?' asked ValDare, handing me his binoculars and pointing.

  As soon as I got the figure into focus - he was standing still, staring at us on the tip of a rocky outcropping - I recognized him. 'Aye, it's them, though the one I met wasn't decked out in that armor like this one. The only thing he was wearing was his sheath of arrows slung over his back and a collar around his neck.'

  The figure in the glass was indeed, the same one that I'd encountered twice before. Like my bird-men, this one had a long bow on his back, as he stood tall and thin watching us as we were him. He was however, dressed in some sort of halter or armor of faintly shimmering scales, crisscrossed by belts of woven wires and wore a helmet made of the same translucent scales and yellow feathers.

  'What's the plan?' I asked, handing the glasses back to him.

  'We've brought a good supply of trade goods. We'll set out a pavilion on bow deck and see what sort of interest we attract. DeArjen says that their village is at the far end. We don't want to appear threatening, so we'll just stay here for the time being. We'll let them come to us. If we don't attract any interest, then we may send the two launches out and see what we can film from a safe, nonthreatening distance,' he said, and lifting the glasses to his eyes again, added, 'I think the key here is to move slowly. DeArjen didn't find them warlike. They were mostly indifferent, so I'm optimistic that if we're patient and keep our distance, we'll be able to establish some sort of understanding and perhaps buy our way into their society. PinTin hopes for more, but we'll just have to wait and see. Amazing place, isn't it?'

  'It is indeed. Though I'm wondering if it was necessary to bring the Lora Lakes in. We could've kept outside and explored this with the boats through all those smaller gaps in the island.'

  'Claustrophobic, Chief?' he laughed.

  'Oh, I'm used to enclosed spaces. I've spent my life in them.'

  'The darkness?'

  I laughed. 'I've sailed in a darkness you can't imagine. And I did spend several hundred rounds in the Daeri margin and shadow lands. It isn't the darkness, or the closeness. But rather, it's the long, slow passage out of here if we need to withdraw. We seem to be relying a lot on their, well, indifference.'

  'We considered that, and decided that it would be safer for everyone if we had the Lora Lakes in here. You see what they use as weapons, and those only for hunting - bows and arrows, and, I gather, long spears. The launches are at risk of being disabled with a spear or two in their propellers should the natives decide to attacked the launches. Their weapons are
useless against the Lora Lakes, so we felt it was better to have it here to serve as a base and a redoubt in the event of unpleasantness. And it could be used to collect any disabled launch with impunity. And, well, we're hoping that its size and strangeness impresses the natives enough that they'll deal with us cautiously.'

  'I suppose that makes sense,' I admitted. I still was rather uneasy. 'This cage doesn't provide much protection from arrows or spears, once they get curious enough to get closer.'

  'We're going to spread some canvas over the top. What they can't see they can't fire on. So between the canvas and the solid bulwark, I don't think anyone will be in any great danger, even when they begin to venture closer.'

  I shrugged. 'Sounds like you've thought of everything...'

  'Everything has been considered, Chief. I'm here and my days of taking chances are long over.'

  I certainly hoped so. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what was bothering me. The Shadow Sea seemed to have a brooding, almost rotting air about it. In part, it may've been due to its relative darkness. In part it was the subterranean feel that very thick and ancient vines twisting over the jagged outcrops looked ever so much like roots of a massive jungle dark above us. And in part, it may've been the pale, spindly jungle in the shadows that seemed half dead and half decayed. And it may've been the silence. The birds and lizards that drifted through the shadows like dark wraiths - occasionally flaring to momentary brightness when they fluttered through pale shafts of light that drifted down from the long rifts - rarely sang and when they did, it was with a solemn, mournful air.

  I'd spent most of my life confined to the tiny world of a space ship, so I shouldn't have been feeling claustrophobic, and yet, despite my denial, I was. There seemed to be some sort of size limit - when it gets too big, like within the Shadow Sea or aboard the Mountain King, so may years and rounds ago - I began to feel it.

  ValDare's confident assurances should've reassured me, but I'd been aboard the old Bird of Passage when it was taken by primitive savages. And while the Lora Lakes was an order of magnitude better prepared to resist any savage attack, that knowledge somehow failed to take the edge off of my unease. If I had as many scars as I should've had from all my adventures, I was sure they'd all be tingling.