by Graeme Ing
"Branda, watch for Cook," she said, then to Alice, "I won't let you terrorize Branda."
Alice tugged her leg and pulled her back down.
"I'll do what I like until you stop trying to be Cook's pet." She grabbed Lissa's hair again and tried to drag her across the floor.
Lissa yelped and moaned, got on all fours and took a firm grip of Alice's hair. She tugged it mercilessly and didn't let go until Alice screamed. She swung a punch, but Lissa dodged and slapped her back. An angry red mark formed on Alice's cheek. They let go in unison and sprang away from each other.
Alice shook, her fists were clenched, and her eyes were sharp and icy. Lissa blew out her breath and held out her hand, palm forward.
"Look…" she lowered her voice. "I'm not trying to be Cook's favorite. I don't want to take anything from you."
Alice spat in her face. "Don't you dare pity me. I know you're playing all pretty to steal Mamp from me."
"Huh?" Lissa let her arm drop.
Alice seized the opportunity to snatch her wrist and twist it. Lissa cried out and smashed Alice's head onto the table, holding it there.
"Who're you talking about?" Lissa asked.
"Don't pretend. I saw you two the other night, sitting together on deck. Other times too. I've seen you, all blushes and cuteness in front of him."
So, he was the Mampalo that Branda had mentioned.
"Stop fighting will you?" she said calmly. She released Alice's head and moved to the other side of the table. They eyed each other. "I'm not flirting with him. Anyway, you've got Lyndon."
"Lyndon?" Alice spluttered. "You stupid girl. What makes you think I'm after that idiot?"
"I... I saw you both-" Alice's suspicious glare made Lissa shut her mouth. "You can hate me, I don't care, but leave Branda alone."
"Cook!" Branda hissed from the doorway.
They brushed themselves down and did their best to smooth their wayward hair. When Cook entered, all three girls made themselves busy, but the argument continued in whispered snarls each time they passed one another.
"I can beat you anytime," Alice whispered by the oven.
Lissa's body ached, and her scalp burned, but Alice seemed unaffected by their fight. Lissa sliced meat for sandwiches, trying to think how to put an end to the war.
"I'll hurt you worse than Farq if you don't back off Mamp," Alice muttered by the sink.
"I won't let you bully Branda," Lissa hissed when they reached in the same drawer.
Finally, Cook left the room and they resumed the argument face to face.
"I dare you to stop me," Alice said, hands on hips, like a mini version of Cook. "I dare you, or I'll make Branda's life hell."
"Stop it," Branda cried, her eyes brimming with tears. "She trap you, Lissa."
Lissa knew that Alice already had. She glanced at Branda, who stroked her short hair obsessively.
"All right," Lissa said loudly to prevent her voice from trembling. "If I do your dare, you'll leave Branda alone?"
Alice nodded.
"What do I have to do?"
A sneer spread across Alice's face and she clapped her hands together.
"This afternoon, march into Farq's office uninvited, and if you get out in one piece, I'll leave Branda alone."
Branda rushed to Lissa's side and clung on to her arm, trembling uncontrollably.
"No," she said. "No, Lissa. Not Farq. Not do that for me."
Lissa's shoulders slumped. Farq was the worst thing Alice could have dreamed up. She glanced at Alice’s mocking expression, and then at the tears rolling down Branda’s cheeks. She took her friend’s hand and squeezed it.
"All right, I'll do it," she said.
Alice sauntered out of the galley, humming to herself.
"You must back down," Branda said. "Do not do this for me. Farq kill you. Please."
"He won't." Lissa faked a smile. "I have a plan."
But she didn't have a plan. Chewing her bottom lip bloody, she made herself busy hoping Branda wouldn't notice her trembling. She swept the hallway for the second time that day. Alice had probably planned it all from the start, goaded Lissa on purpose. What a fool she’d been! She relived her beating on the command deck. Her palms turned clammy and her heart pounded. Taking Alice's beatings was one thing, but Farq was not someone to play games with. What was I thinking?
Alice stepped out of a storeroom and shouldered her into the wall. "Don't worry if Farq rips your arms off," she sneered. "Since you're the physiker's pet as well as Cook's, I'm sure he'll fix you up. Maybe you can bribe him with one of your stupid cakes. Only two bells to suns-set and then you lose. I'll be watching."
She shoved Lissa again and climbed the ladder.
Think. Time is running out. She paced the hallway, her turns becoming swifter.
"That's it." She glanced around the empty hallway. "Ha!"
Alice had just given her the solution.
Lissa rushed into the baking room, a hundred recipes spinning around her head. Which one, which one? Everyone loved her mother's pecknut pie. The green-shelled nut was hard to come by, but she remembered finding a sack in the far storeroom. She tied her hair back and bounced around the tiny room, snatching everything she needed, determined to make the best pie of her life.
The final bell had tolled when she carried it into the galley like a royal gift. Branda had left a pitcher of gej-juice, so she added plenty of flaked ice from the machine, and then balanced the pitcher, goblets, pie, and knife on a tray. She paused and sucked in a deep breath.
The moment she emerged on to the outer deck, her stomach turned over. The goblets rattled on the tray. Her legs refused to move. She stared into Farq's open office, where Farq conversed with the white-haired sailor. Her mind screamed at her to drop the tray, run, and hide. Alice and Lyndon leaned against the rail. Alice drew her finger across her throat, made a gurgling noise, and laughed.
Lissa counted silently, willing herself to move on ten, but she faltered at nine. She blew out a long breath and hyperventilated. Bile pushed up her throat and she choked it down. Nearby crew pointed and muttered. She made a tiny whimpering noise and snapped her mouth shut.
"Ten," she said aloud, and forced herself across the deck, ignoring the churning in her stomach and her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. One step, then another, until she found herself at the threshold of Farq's office. The hairs on her neck prickled, as she imagined Alice and Lyndon's stares on her back. On the other side of the desk, the two men intently studied the ledger before them.
"Deck Master, sir." It came out as a hoarse whisper, so she repeated it.
Farq's head jerked up and his gaunt face puckered. She stared at her feet. He growled and she saw the shadow of his arm rising.
"I baked you a special pie, sir," she blurted, "to apologize for disobeying your orders. I deserved your beating."
Shut up. Don't ramble.
She raised her gaze enough to see Farq puffing out his chest. He cracked his knuckles one by one, and she imagined each sound to be one of her bones breaking. She winced, preparing for his onslaught. The goblets rattled violently.
"Set it down before you drop it," he barked. "Now get out of my sight."
She did so and then fled, hearing nothing except the blood pulsing in her ears. She forgot about Alice, Lyndon, and everyone around her, and didn't stop until she reached the galley, where she slid into a corner and shook uncontrollably. Finally, she became aware of Branda beside her, holding her hand.
A wave of euphoria flooded over her. She’d done it! It had been a brilliant plan, she’d seen it through and perhaps made her peace with Farq. Best of all, she’d beaten Alice. A real victory. Even so, she wiped the grin off her face when Alice walked in, pouting. Gloating was cheap. Ignoring the other girls, Alice crossed the room and turned the oven dials to the on position.
"You so brave," Branda whispered, beaming at Lissa. Her gaze flicked to Alice, who didn't appear to be paying them any attention.
"Let's not provoke her," Lissa whispered back, "but thanks."
Cook arrived and they prepared supper, heating up leftover jab-bird, and stirring a cauldron of lan tubers and hoobin-beets. The room filled with a rich, gamey aroma. Alice made no attempt to torment Lissa and said nothing except answer Cook in monosyllables.
Lissa savored her supper with Branda as company. She felt giddy with happiness that the horrible dare was over and done. Maybe now, a truce might exist between her and Alice. She didn't expect them to become friends but not being picked on would be nice.
Chapter 10 - The Symbol
Lissa and Branda spent the evening on deck, and Lissa didn't want the tingle of elation flowing through her body to end. Soon they were both spending more time yawning than talking, so Lissa gave in and went below to the storeroom that she had come to think of as her own. The globelight was dim and her scheepa strung up. She smiled. Branda did so many things for her. The little Valinese girl was the only thing that made ship life bearable.
She cracked her jaw with an enormous yawn and clambered into her scheepa. Something lumpy and soggy oozed beneath her, squelching when she lay back.
"Yuck!"
She leaped up, which caused the scheepa to flip and dump her with a thud onto the deck. Slimy, cold globs rained down on her, accompanied by the nutty smell of oodspal. It slithered off her hair onto her face, and dribbled down the inside of her shirt.
She howled and scraped handfuls from her face, then smacked her hands on the hard floor repeatedly. What an idiot she’d been to think that Alice would give up so easily. She quivered with rage.
Now she'd have to clean up the mess, or Cook would beat her. It was going to take most of the night. She fetched a bucket and mop and swept the deck, being as quiet as possible. Then she bundled up the dripping scheepa and tip-toed along the hallway to the washroom, where she spent ages rinsing every sticky lump of oodspal from the scheepa, her clothes, her hair and herself. The water washed away her anger, replacing it with a firm resolve: Alice would not make a fool of her again.
Exhausted, she couldn't keep her eyes open. She found a corner outside the washroom, spread out her clothes, and curled up under the dry side of the thick canvas scheepa, not caring if anyone stumbled over her in the dimly hit hallway.
The dawn bell startled her out of another nightmare. Alice had been captain and Lissa her personal slave. While Alice spent all day relaxing in a throne, Lissa scrubbed the deck at her feet, forever mopping up bowls of oodspal that the spiteful girl threw on the floor.
Lissa shivered and sat up, shoulders and back aching from sleeping on the hard deck. Where was she? Then she remembered spending the night cleaning. Her eyes drooped. She just wanted to go back to sleep.
"Girl!" Cook yelled from the galley. "Get here this instant."
Lissa dragged herself to her feet, massaging her stiff muscles. Her clothes were wrinkled but dry so she dressed hurriedly and ran her hands through her tangled hair. No time for a wash. She sprinted into the galley, still tucking her shirt into her skirt.
"Useless girl," Cook roared. "I warned you before about oversleeping. Double chores today."
Alice smirked.
As the three girls made breakfast, Lissa was torn. She wanted to get back at Alice, but didn't dare risk a full-scale war, afraid for Branda. Somehow she would get her revenge. She held her head high as she went about her duties, meeting Alice's gaze and refusing to flinch when she came close. Alice took every opportunity to threaten her with a fork, thump her in the arm or kick her when Cook's back was turned, but Lissa shrugged it all off, hoping to bore Alice into stopping.
Lissa had barely wolfed down her breakfast before Cook ordered her and Branda to scrub the manger.
"A full clean, mind you," the old woman said, waggling her finger. "Clean up the dung, lay new grass, refill the troughs. No half-baked effort."
"This take us all day," Branda said, leading Lissa toward the bow of the ship. "Take Alice two days. Alice lazy."
Lissa simply grunted in reply.
They pushed open the doors to the manger, and a fetid stench of dung and animals assaulted their noses. A barrage of bleats, grunts and lowing greeted them. A jab-bird swooped at Lissa, and she ducked her head. Awkward in flight, the fat bird crumpled into the doorframe, and Branda quickly closed the doors. Other jab-birds strutted fearlessly beneath the legs of solags. The brown-haired beasts were so large that their pointed ears grazed the low ceiling.
Metal troughs lined the curving walls that met at a point opposite the door. This was the very front of the ship. At one trough, a pair of mrin drank together, their long tails swishing each other's flanks and their short snouts nudging each other. Lissa and Branda moved into the room, causing a hairless mulan to take fright and step in a food bowl, scattering feed everywhere. That scared a trio of jab-birds, who ran squawking around the room.
"This is going to be hard work," Lissa said, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she looked around her.
"You get fresh grass, your arms longer," Branda said, extending her short arms. "I sweep old grass and dung."
Lissa agreed, and returned with two bales of gilli-grass. Her load was more awkward than heavy, since gilli-grass was hollow inside and very light. The inn at home didn't have an attached stable, but she'd seen the grass used in the market livestock pens.
Branda shoveled dung and soiled grass into sacks, and dragged them outside for the crew to empty overboard. Working behind her friend, Lissa scattered a new layer. The two mrin padded along beside her, snuffling at the fresh grass as if inspecting her handiwork. The female flicked her head around to stare at Lissa with huge, black eyes. Then it pooped all over the fresh gilli-grass. The pungent, sulfurous smell singed Lissa's nose and throat. She tried to shoo the animal away but it held its ground.
"Alice brag what she do to your scheepa," Branda said, scrunching her nose while she scraped up the fresh dung. "She do same to me, my first Sunturn."
"We should trick her back. Teach her a lesson."
"No." Branda shot Lissa a wide-eyed glance. "Best not make trouble."
"I know. I just wish she could know what it feels like."
"She will suffer shee-amar," Branda said. "It in the stars."
Lissa stared at her, and suddenly she was back in the inn, seven Sunturns old.
"Mother," she said. "When will Grandpa come home?" She peered out the window, scrutinizing every person who walked by outside, as she had done night after night.
"Soon, my darling, soon," her mother crooned.
"But when?"
Her mother flicked Lissa's hair from her eyes and kissed her forehead.
"Soon. I see it in the stars."
"I hope so, Mother. I miss him so much."
The memory popped like a soap bubble. A solag lowed and bumped against her.
Branda frowned, running her fingers along the snake-like tattoos on her forehead. "What wrong?"
Lissa shook her head and tucked her hair behind one ear. "Nothing. I'm fine."
"Your eyes look far away," Branda said. "Then you call me Mother."
"I was thinking of my mother just then." Her heart broke at the thought of never seeing her parents again, never hearing her mother’s voice or feeling her warm hugs. But she couldn’t think about that right now. She rolled her shoulders back. "She used to say the same words: 'I see it in the stars.'"
Branda smiled and her eyes sparkled.
"What's shee-amar?" Lissa asked a few moments later.
"My people believe if you cruel, things turn bad for you. Mama say Gods give back what we give to world."
"We have a similar belief, and I hope you're right." Lissa giggled uncontrollably.
"Why you laugh?"
"I just had a mental picture of the Gods dumping an enormous cauldron of oodspal on Alice's head."
Branda laughed with her until they were interrupted by the distant sound of the midday bell. As if reminded, Lissa's stomach growled. They still had to scrub
the troughs and feed all the animals. She put extra effort into spreading the gilli-grass. Half done, she backed up against a solag. Startled, it leaped aside and she toppled. Her hands grabbed for the animal's back to keep her balance, but it swung around and whacked her on the shoulder. She fell backward, smashing her head against a post.
The room blurred. Yellow and blue ribbons of light swirled before her eyes, their intricate patterns mesmerizing. From a great distance, she heard Branda's voice, but couldn’t make out her words.
Then the whispering began.
The rasping hissing in her mind made no sense. It grew loud and soft, first on one side of her then the other. Why couldn't they leave her alone? How could she speak to voices inside her head?
Look.
The colored bands coalesced into a shimmering symbol hovering in the air, that resembled a loop with a tail and a pair of wavy lines crossing through the loop.
Look.
The whispering stopped and her vision cleared.
"Lissa!" Branda cried, grabbing at her arms. "Do you hurt?"
Lissa groaned, returning to reality. She gently touched the back of her head. No blood came away on her fingers.
"Shall I get physiker?"
"No. Let me sit here a moment."
She closed her eyes and the symbol still glowed on the inside of her eyelids.
* * *
The talk among the men at supper was all about landfall, centered on beer, gambling, and the local women. The few snippets of their raucous chatter that filtered down through the serving tray hole were lurid enough to make Lissa squirm in the galley. Her face felt hot, not entirely from the heat of the ovens. But it sounded like a welcoming and hospitable port, and she longed to go ashore. She glanced sideways at Alice, and chewed her lip. Was this where she and Lyndon planned to escape?
That evening, the outer deck was crowded. The entire crew gathered at the rails, talking loudly, surrounded by clouds of pipe smoke in the still air. Lissa appreciated the warmer evenings, now that the ship had traveled south.