by Anna Burke
“Nothing we can do about your hair,” Harper said, frowning at me, “but I’ve got some makeup to soften your look.”
“I don’t need to be softened.”
“You look like a pirate.”
“It’s just a haircut. Once I put the uniform on I’ll look exactly like I used to.”
Harper frowned at me and adjusted my curls.
“Maybe it’s not your hair,” she said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You look different. I don’t know how to describe it, but I bet Maddox would think twice about yanking your chain if he saw you right now.”
I glanced down at my body.
“I’m wearing a towel, Harp. Hardly intimidating.”
“Yeah, about that. You need to get dressed.”
I turned my back to her and pulled on a pair of pants and a bra.
“What is that?” Harper grabbed my arm as I reached for my shirt. I followed her eyes to the scar on my stomach.
“A lash.”
“Who the hell lashed you?”
“It’s a long story.”
Harper’s hackles were still up when I finished my tale.
“I’m going to give this Miranda of yours a piece of my mind,” she said.
“Your friend Orca did worse.”
“That’s not the point.”
A knock on the door interrupted our conversation, and I dragged the rest of the uniform over my head. We were respectably dressed by the time Admiral Comita beckoned for us to follow her.
Libra’s hallways were mostly empty, occupied exclusively by richly dressed staff members walking with purpose and arrogance from appointment to appointment. A few gave us sideways looks, gossip brewing beneath their sleek exteriors.
The Council chambers crouched in the middle of the station, through a pair of huge, wooden doors with the Archipelago seal emblazoned on them. The seal of Libra hung beneath, the scales of justice resting in a perpetual balance that I found a little hard to swallow, in light of what I now knew about the Gemini mutiny.
We entered to a polite cacophony. Admirals milled in the lower Council seats while the high seats’ occupants shuffled about, shaking hands and exchanging what I assumed were pointless pleasantries. Each station had a set number of seats, determined largely by population. My home station, Cassiopeia, had only two; both of them were empty.
I hadn’t paid much attention to the actual procedures that determined government function in Fleet Prep, but I had memorized the chain of command. I knew enough to know that I was on the bottom rung in this room.
Comita led us to the Polarian sector, where we sat through the next hour as the Council came to order. I couldn’t focus on most of what they were saying through the ringing in my ears. In the cabin of the transport ship, drilling with Comita had seemed like a repetitive exercise. I appreciated it now as my hands shook and sweat crept down my sides.
“The council calls Compass Rose to the podium.”
I tried and failed to take deep, steadying breaths as I approached the center and took the stand.
“Under the orders of Admiral Comita of the Polarian Fleet, I infiltrated the Gulf of Mexico to gain intelligence on the movements of the pirate Ching Shih,” I said, my hands shaking.
I paused to catch my breath. It was funny how speaking even a few words to an audience of this size left me more winded than swimming a mile.
Comita gave me a barely perceptible nod. At no point during this report was I to mention Miranda Stillwater. I swallowed and continued.
“I was part of a small crew of carefully selected men and women with diverse backgrounds and skills. Using a drifter vessel as cover, we were able to gain access to the Gulf. The coordinates you have before you detail what I learned of Ching’s forces and their approximate locations.
“While at a mining station, our trawler picked up Harper Comita and a Polarian SHARK. The SHARK, Jonathan Flynn, sustained fatal injuries during a skirmish with Ching’s raiders and is not available for testimony.”
The formal words felt stiff in my mouth.
“We were targeted, but managed to elude the raiders along the coast, where we discovered a channel through Florida deep enough for Archipelago vessels. To the best of my knowledge, Ching is not aware of this passage and has set no patrols.”
Chaos erupted after my words. It took a good five minutes for the council to settle down enough to come to the next order of business. Harper stood and swore that the words I spoke were true, and then Comita took the stand.
“My fellow Admirals, councilpersons, and citizens.” Her voice carried around the room. “We have been given an unlooked-for opportunity. Many of you have urged caution over the past months, but the time for caution is past. We can now safely assume that Ching Shih plans to launch a full-scale assault on the Archipelago, and we know that our mining stations are suffering under her unlawful seizure. I have additional information regarding Ching Shih herself, which I will clarify shortly, convincing me that allowing her an ounce of civility will end with the destruction of our entire way of life. We have to act, and we have to act now.”
This time, the shouts did not surprise me.
Comita raised her hand for silence.
“A year ago, I received a message from an unknown sailor, warning me of a growing force of pirates outside of our patrols. You are all familiar with my reports from that time frame.
“Six months ago, I received another message, this time warning me that Ching was moving on the mines. As you are all aware, it was again Polarian intelligence that led the Council to send a probe into the Gulf.
“The third time the sailor contacted me, I arranged a parley. In exchange for continued intelligence, I offered the sailor a full Archipelago pardon for any perceived misdemeanors, and citizenship. It is through these efforts that Compass Rose was able to access the Gulf, and it is through these efforts that I can say to you, with certainty, that Ching has no intention of stopping at the mines. It should not come as a surprise. In fact, it should come as a warning. The more things continue to destabilize, the stronger the opposition will be.
“You think we are struggling to deal with rising toxicity and deeper waters? How do you think the rest of the ocean is faring? Humanity has always been divided between those who have and those who have not, and if you read the histories, which I assume everyone in this room has had the privilege of so doing,” there was a pause, here, in which Comita’s cutting words drew blood, “then you know that the balance of power can shift. Ching Shih is intent on upsetting the Atlantic order, and our failure to act has given her the means to achieve it.”
Comita let this sink in for a moment. It was an uncharacteristically impassioned speech, and I saw shades of her daughter in her voice, if not her words.
“My third party knows Ching, and we have one more thing to pin our hopes on if all else fails. In addition to providing information and access, the sailor made a promise. If the opportunity arises, they will neutralize Ching Shih. I ask that the Council recognize my authority on this matter and prepare the pardon immediately following the closure of this meeting.”
A full pardon?
Heads on the high seats conferred.
“The Council asks for disclosure of the party’s name.”
“The party does not wish to be disclosed until the pardon is signed, out of legitimate fear for their personal safety.”
I paid little heed to the details of the debate that followed. A full pardon and citizenship for Miranda Stillwater was unthinkable, and yet Comita looked like she was about to pull it off. I bit my lip against the wave of hope.
The rest of Comita’s words sank in a little more slowly.
I wanted to ask the admiral what she meant by neutralize. I remembered how keen Miranda had been to avoid Ching Shih, and now that I knew that Ching had saved Miranda’s life, I thought I understood why. Neutralization would come at an incredible cost for Miranda, and for all her resolve I could not se
e her paying it.
And if she did? If she attempted to assassinate the legendary pirate queen, what would happen? Kraken was not with her. Orca was not with her. It would be suicide.
She doesn’t want to die, I told myself. Not with a pardon so close.
Unless the pardon wasn’t for her. If Comita did know the whereabouts of her sister, then it was possible that Miranda’s deepest desire was to clear her name and her conscience, but not necessarily to live to enjoy the benefits.
My heart pounded, then subsided.
I didn’t think she was quite that noble.
Harper fidgeted at my side, muttering something that I didn’t hear over the sounds of the chamber and my own fears.
“The Council approves your request, Admiral. We will now open the floor to discuss moving on the Gulf, beginning with Admiral Gonzalez of Aries Station.”
“This is going to take all night,” Harper said, this time loud enough for me to hear as she sank into her seat.
It was worse than Harper feared. It took all of that night and into the next morning for the council to make its decision. I was called on again and again to discuss the channel, questioned about details that, in my view, had no bearing on the decision, and enjoyed the singular experience of having almost every answer interrupted by at least one belligerent councilperson.
The Aries admiral, Leticia Gonzalez, conferred with Comita on several occasions. She had a broad, plain face and a quick laugh. Harper greeted her warmly. I hung back. One admiral was enough for me.
“You must be the navigator,” Leticia said, giving me a look that managed to be both casual and piercing at the same time, so that I was not sure if I had been dismissed or interrogated by the time her eyes moved on.
Comita nodded at her daughter, and Harper steered me back toward our seats and away from the Aries admiral’s scrutiny.
“She’s intense,” I said, grateful for the hard chair.
“She’s from Aries; what did you expect?”
I shrugged, but I could not help watching the way Comita spoke to her. Formal, but with a level of familiarity that sent a prickle down my spine. It occurred to me for the first time in a while that Polaris had a very large fleet. So did Aries Station, and the Aries admiral had a reputation for running hot. The sight of the two of them together, ice and fire, did not go unnoticed.
From the high seats, a few of the immaculately groomed heads turned slightly toward each other, and I was relieved when Comita returned to her seat.
The vote came down to Gemini Station. Their Admiral was a tired-looking man named Hiro Patel. He approached me and Comita during the next recess, his brown eyes grave.
Were you there for the mutiny? I wondered.
He nodded politely at Harper and me, then turned to Comita.
“Gemini acted hastily under my predecessor. You understand that I cannot make the same mistake.”
It was not a question.
“I trust you will act in your station’s best interest,” Comita said.
I noticed she did not try to sway him.
“Sending such a young navigator into the Gulf, for instance, seems hasty. May I ask why you acted without consulting the council, Admiral Comita?”
Coming from this soft-spoken man, it did not sound like a reprimand, but more like honest curiosity.
“Sometimes you have to act on instinct, Hiro.”
He weighed this behind brown eyes, his expression neutral. Comita introduced me in the silence that followed.
“This is Compass Rose.”
“You are a credit to your station,” he said to me, extending his hand.
I shook it.
North, east, south, west. My compass spun as I realized my mistake. There were too many directions, and I felt them pulling me apart as Patel’s hand tightened on mine. I saw the stillness of shock creep over his features.
He did not turn my palm over. He did not shout. He simply knew.
His slip in composure lasted less than a second. With a nod to me, Comita, and Harper, he returned to his seat and did not look at me again, but I could feel the scar on my palm burning.
How does he know Miranda is alive? I wondered as we sat down for the final vote. Sweat poured down my face. Had I just destroyed everything I had worked toward?
“Those against swift and decisive action?”
Half of the room punched the dissenting button at their seats.
“Those for it?”
The other half stirred, making a much more vigorous display of voting. The Aries admiral was among the first to punch in her answer.
Admiral Hiro Patel and the rest of Gemini’s representatives were the last. His fellow Gemini waited on him, and I watched him while the directions swirled and eddied around me.
Patel was now the only thing standing between me and Miranda. The tie was called with a hint of impatience, and still Patel sat there, weighing his options.
As he moved his hand to the button, his eyes flickered once to me.
Of course.
If he confessed that he knew Miranda was alive, then he would have to explain why he had not taken action against her. I had just given him a much larger dilemma than simply saving the Archipelago. Either way, he lost. If he voted no, the chances of the Archipelago discovering his negligence were slim, but only because we would have far bigger fish to fry with Ching beating on our portholes.
If he assented, if he voted to go after Ching in the Gulf on the advice of a known compatriot of Miranda Stillwater, he stood a good chance of losing his position the minute news of her pardon reached the Council.
He had to choose between his people and his career, and the higher in the ranks you rose in the Archipelago, the more you valued pride above all else.
Admiral Hiro Patel voted with the same reserve with which he’d shook my hand.
I met his eyes as he folded his hands in his lap, and tried not to show the relief ripping like a headwind through my body.
We would strike.
• • •
Blood smeared the wall.
“Let her be,” Kraken said, thrusting his arm in front of me.
Orca hit the wall again, her arms slick with sweat and her teeth bared. Behind her, Finn sat with his head in his hands, and Jeanine stood with her back to us, staring out the window into the garden beyond.
“I. Will. Not. Stay. Here.” Orca punctuated each of her words with another strike, her knuckles raw and weeping.
“She’s going to fracture her hand,” I said to Kraken, my throat tightening as I watched Orca break herself against the smooth, unfeeling plastic of Polaris.
“Let her,” he said, and when he saw the look on my face he gripped my shoulder. “Better the wall than your admiral, Rose.”
Orca looked over at me, and I shuddered at the murder in her eyes. She hit the wall one more time, spraying drops of blood over the gray floor.
“You will tell Admiral Comita that the Sea Cat departs when I say she does.”
I flinched.
“If you’re caught,” I began, but she cut me off.
“You put on a real good show, didn’t you?” She took a step toward me, shaking with rage.
“What?”
“You had me fooled, for a moment, there. I thought you actually cared about us.” She shook her head. “I thought you cared about the captain. And now we’re dry docked until your fucking admiral is done blowing up the Gulf.”
“If we try to get back into the Gulf and Ching’s sailors find us, she’ll kill us and she’ll kill Miranda.”
“Don’t talk like you’re one of us.”
“If I could change this, don’t you think I would?” I shouted, trying to shove past Kraken’s arm. I might as well have tried to move the ship itself.
“Then do something. Man o’ War has no idea your entire fucking Archipelago is coming for her, and your admiral’s pardon isn’t going to do her much good in the locker, is it? What is she supposed to do, put up a flag of truce when sh
e sees them coming? They’ll kill her, and if they don’t, Ching will. We have to warn her.”
“If we take the Sea Cat, Comita will torpedo us out of the water,” I said.
“Torpedos didn’t stop you from picking up Harper, though, did they?” Her voice went quiet, and I glared at her over Kraken’s arm.
“There is a big difference between a few raiders and an entire fleet.”
Orca shook her head, an incredulous smile twisting her mouth.
“You’re a fucking coward, Compass Rose.”
Kraken’s arm kept me upright as I reeled from the insult.
“That’s enough,” he said.
“Whose side are you on?” Orca asked him, turning her bloodshot eyes away from me.
Kraken moved faster than an eel. He grabbed Orca by the collar and shoved her up against the bloody wall. Her feet dangled off the floor, and she hung there, shocked into silence.
“You listen to me, first mate,” he said, and his voice filled the room like thunder, sending reverberations through the soles of my feet. The tattoos on his skin moved as his muscles rippled, and the only thing more terrifying than the inked horror was the look in his eyes.
“There are no goddamn sides. Do you know the reason we are here? On this boat? In this ocean, fighting for our lives like fucking bilge rats? It’s because people like us turned on each other when the waters started rising. You are the first mate. You have a responsibility to your captain and your crew. Rose is your crew. Now start acting like a goddamn officer or I will flog you myself.”
He let her slide to the floor.
I stood rooted to the spot. He filled the room, a vengeful giant with one too many arms.
Orca rubbed her collarbone and straightened her shirt.
“Thanks,” she said, and I let my jaw hang open as she clasped his forearm.
“Don’t make me do it again anytime soon,” he said.
“What just happened?” I asked Finn, who had left off staring at his knees to observe.
“Orca released the Kraken.”
“What?”
“That’s what we call it, anyway. Takes a lot to get him riled up, but when he does . . .” Finn trailed off.