Ocean of Dust

by Graeme Ing

  "Watch where you tread, stupid," Alice cried.

  "I was on the ladder first," she replied.

  "I'm not waiting for you," Alice said. "You're too slow."

  She yanked Lissa's leg with both hands, bringing her tumbling down, cracking one leg against a post, before smashing into Alice. They both sprawled on the floor, Lissa landing on top. Alice blew out her breath violently and groaned loudly. The tray and its contents crashed around them making an awful din. Juice sprayed from the pitcher but it didn't break.

  Lissa rolled off Alice and stood. "What did you do that for?"

  Alice sat up, feeling her body for breaks. "You squashed me," she wheezed. Then she gave a thin smile. "I deserved it, I guess."

  She extended her arm up toward Lissa.

  Lissa blinked twice and narrowed her eyes.

  Alice's smile became a grin. "Come on, you beat me this time. I was being mean, so it serves me right. Pull me up, please?"

  Lissa nibbled her lip, and then slowly reached down and took Alice's hand, who yanked so hard, Lissa’s shoulder popped, and she fell spread-eagled on the floor. Alice leaped on her back, knees to either side.

  "You're so stupid," Alice snarled. She grabbed a bunch of Lissa's hair close to her scalp and twisted it, digging her knees into Lissa's sides. "Don't you dare get me locked up again."

  Lissa squealed at the tightness in her neck. She thrust her hands onto the floor and pushed up, trying to throw Alice off and squirm free.

  "Oy!" a man shouted from across the room. Heavy footfalls headed their way. "What's going on?"

  Alice let go, stood and stamped on the glass pitcher, shattering it into a thousand pieces, spraying shards of glass all over Lissa.

  "Oops," Alice said, her eyes flaring. "I think she fell down the ladder," she shouted to the man. "Help, quickly."

  She leaned over Lissa. "I haven't finished with you yet."

  * * *

  The next morning, Lissa woke to the sensation of her scheepa swinging, the globelight overhead also. She wished that she could have waved goodbye to the island. Shivering in the pre-dawn chill, she dropped to the floor and hurried to wash and dress, arriving in the galley just before Branda and Alice, who followed her inside.

  "Vacation's over. Back to work," Cook said, hands on her hips. She glanced at Lissa and narrowed her eyes. "How did you get those bruises on your leg?"

  "I... I tripped last night. I forgot the ship was moving again."

  Cook's gaze flicked momentarily to Alice. "Don't be so clumsy in the future."

  Alice wore a continual smirk as they prepared breakfast, but otherwise left Lissa alone. Lissa didn't care - a smug Alice was easier to deal with. How had she avoided a beating from Farq for stealing the jewelry? Lissa chewed her lip and recalled Alice's conversation with Lyndon in the hold. Life was about to turn dangerous if they were both in league with Farq.

  The navigator had stood up for her yesterday and saved her from a horrific beating. Perhaps she could make him a friend like the physiker. Maybe he’d allow her to spend more time with his charts, and she had a lot of questions about the Klynaks and flux channels. In the afternoon, she took him a peace offering of a goblet of Imyan fruit wine that had come aboard in several barrels, and her new recipe for zesty custard-filled buns.

  His door was ajar, and he sat at his desk with opened books spread before him. He wore the same heavy, faded green robe. Did he have any other clothes?

  "Mister navigator, sir," she said, knocking. "I've brought you refreshments."

  He looked up and rubbed his drooping eyes. "Oh, you again."

  He arced his back and his bones cracked. Behind him, his cot bed swung gently from squeaking chains. The drapes at the rear windows fluttered in a light breeze. She stepped inside and set her tray on the corner of the desk, careful not to disturb anything.

  "Why are you here?" he croaked, and slurped the wine.

  "It's my duty to wait on the officers." She held out the plate of buns.

  He frowned, shook his head, and then snatched a bun and jammed it into his mouth.

  "Odd that mine is the only cabin you deliver to," he said, spraying crumbs in all directions. He stopped chewing. "These are good. Delicious filling."

  He took another.

  "I want to make it up to you for damaging your book. I can write. Neat too. Please let me copy the damaged pages for you."

  He pushed the second bun between yellowed teeth and stared at her. She fought the urge to flinch, and shifted her gaze to the floor. He swallowed, and then slurped more wine.

  "A little girl who can write," he murmured. "Fetch the ledger from the top shelf there."

  She found the book, its curled pages plain to see.

  "Take that globe, sit down, and show me your writing. I’ll make no promises." He returned to his books.

  She found the dormant globelight, its smooth stone set into a pewter hand carrier, and ran her fingers across the metal base. The stone glowed. On the low table, she found several sheets of blank paper, ink and a pen. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she opened the damaged book at random. Five columns of twenty tiny numbers filled the page, of which a quarter had been smudged beyond recognition.

  Using the tray as a smoother surface than the scratched and pitted table, she adjusted the pen to its narrowest nib, and slowly and carefully copied each number. She tuned out the croaking sounds as he cleared his throat, his noisy drinking, and the shouting of men about the ship. She focused all her attention on the numbers before her.

  "I've finished a page," she said a while later.

  He swiveled around and held out his hand. Shoulders straight and head high, she gave him her page and the book. He placed both beside the globelight on his desk, scrunched over them and ran his finger down each column in the book. Moments later, he spun back around and stabbed his gnarled fingers onto her page.

  "Where did these numbers come from? The ones unreadable on the original? I didn't ask you to make up any old number." He slammed the page onto the desk, and she flinched.

  "These tables have to be perfect." He coughed repeatedly, and then sipped at his wine.

  "They... they're the right numbers." Her cheeks were on fire. "I was very careful to get them right."

  "Liar. How can they be correct?"

  "I know they are. Please check them."

  "Preposterous. There's a precise mathematical relationship governing the data in this ledger." He waved it in the air. "Ugh. Why am I arguing with a stupid girl?"

  She cringed against the table and her jaw dropped. Why was he angry instead of pleased that she was fixing his book?

  "I... I don't know anything about those mathematical things," she mumbled, "but it wasn't difficult to figure out what the missing numbers were, and..."

  She faltered. His face had turned an ugly purple and his eyes bulged. The veins on his forehead pulsed.

  "I thought you'd be pleased," she added. "I thought that's what you wanted me to do."

  "You figured out the missing numbers," he roared, loud enough for the entire ship to hear. "Just like that?"

  He coughed several times and yellow spittle dribbled from his mouth.

  "You simply figured them out? Leave."

  "Sir?"

  "Get out!"

  Chapter 17 - Jealousy

  Lissa soon got nauseous again. It didn't make sense considering how long she had been on the ship. No one else seemed to be affected. That evening, after they had cleaned up supper, she and Branda went up on deck to get some fresh air. The stars were dazzling in the cloudless, inky sky. Medepo and Labago, the two largest moons, had yet to rise.

  Lissa and Branda scrambled on top of an equipment locker to get out of the way of the crew, who gathered in groups with beer mugs and pipes. Despite the thick, spicy pipe smoke, Lissa breathed deep and her stomach felt calmer.

  Once again, the metal arms stuck out from each side of the ship, and she stared at the sparks of red and blue that arced along them. She tw
isted her hair around her fingers, first one way then the other.

  "Such pretty colors," she said.

  "What is?" Branda replied.

  "Oh, just thinking aloud." She was sure that Branda, nor anyone else could see the colors. That didn't make any sense either. Her head throbbed, stabbing with each spark. That had happened last time too. She rolled over on to her belly and scanned the crew as they chatted and laughed.

  "I wonder why they're so happy tonight."

  "Men always like this after shore leave," Branda replied.

  "Really? I'd have thought they'd be sad to leave the island. I am."

  "Ship their home. They happy to return."

  She shot Branda a sideways glance. Sometimes she said the most adult things. Were all Valinese like that?

  Pete laughed as he wrestled another boy, while a crowd cheered them on. He threw his opponent, another boy, to the deck and sat on him. Then Pete held up his own arms with his hands clasped together in victory, and grinned as the men slapped him on the back. Lissa smiled. He was obviously enjoying ship life. Branda didn't seem to mind it either.

  What did the future hold? Would Pete end up as crew chief, like Sam, or even deck master or captain? That seemed unlikely. Captains probably came from rich families. Would one of the girls become the cook one day? She pictured an elderly Alice having galley girls of her own, and grimaced. Their lives would be miserable. Did people swap between ships, or spend their entire lives serving the same captain? "Better the seas you know than those uncharted," she had heard the older sailors say. Was that why they accepted Farq's cruelty, or did they just have no choice?

  Movement on the forward deck caught her eye. The stretched shadows of two people protruded from behind the stack of cargo. She pictured Alice and Mampalo together. Why should she suddenly think of them?

  "Stay here," she whispered to Branda. "I'll be right back."

  She moved silently along the side of the ship, beneath the huge winches. Halfway along, she crouched and listened to heated whispering.

  "The time is soon, mark my words," one man hissed.

  "It's too risky. We need to prepare more," the other replied.

  "Enough plans. Get ready, or get out of our way."

  Lissa's foot rattled a metal ring set into the deck. The rope tied to it snapped loose and twanged up onto the cargo crates. She clapped her hands to her mouth and glanced behind her. Too far to run. Spotting a narrow gap between two crates, she squeezed into it, scraping her arms. She heard the patter of bare feet hurrying toward her. There was no more room behind her to hide deeper.

  "Just a broken tie," one of the men said, standing right in front of where she hid. “I’ll climb up and find the loose end.”

  "Look, just think about it, all right," the other said as they walked away.

  She stayed for as long as she could stand the rough wood against her skin, and then scurried back to Branda, covering her grazed arms with her sleeves.

  * * *

  A whole eight-day passed, and Lissa tried to spend as much time as possible on deck. Watching the crew had become her favorite pastime. Sometimes Branda joined her, but this particular hot afternoon Lissa sat alone on the foredeck, once again using the crates of cargo as shelter against the airborne dust. The wind always blew stronger at the front of the ship, and many of the crew pulled bandanas over their mouths when working there.

  A group of apprentices huddled on the triangular platform erected on the ship's prow. Mampalo taught them how to point the sighting device toward each sun. The focused suns-light reflected down onto metal dials. Every few moments he fiddled with the hoops and beads strung in his hair as the wind tangled and knotted them. He cycled through each boy in turn, giving him equal attention.

  One of them put his eye to the sighting tube and swung the device toward Eldrar, close to the zenith. Lissa startled and glanced at Mampalo, but he was bent over the dials, pointing something out to another apprentice.

  Oh no, he’s going to blind himself.

  "Stop," she cried. "Take your eye from the tube."

  The boy jumped and tumbled against the rail. Another boy pulled him to safety. Everyone looked at her. Had she broken some cardinal rule?

  "What are you doing?" Mampalo asked her, frowning.

  "That boy was about to look at Eldrar through the sighting tube."

  "Is this true?" he asked the boy, hand on his shoulder.

  The boy stared at his shoes and fidgeted.

  "No, no, no. Listen. Never sight the suns unless you want to lose an eye. Guide it like this." He swung the device with one hand. "Then fine tune it until you see the reflection below. Only use the sighting tube for the stars or any of the moons. Clear?"

  He gathered the boys around him and embarked on another lesson.

  Lissa relaxed and listened to his intriguing, singsong voice as he explained the markings on the dials. He made them practice reading the numbers aloud, and it reminded her of the navigator's book. Was this where the numbers came from? Why had he been so mad when she had fixed his page?

  "Enjoying the fresh air?"

  She jumped, and gave a small smile as Mampalo slid down beside her.

  "You've a healthy tan already," he added.

  She hadn't thought about it, but he was right. In less than half a Sunturn, her light skin had turned bronze. He brushed her hand and her stomach flipped. Her pulse quickened.

  "I've a couple of promising ones," he said. "The rest are hopeless."

  "Eh?"

  "The apprentices. I don't know how you knew what Jeffsa was doing, but thanks for saving his eyesight."

  She nodded and tried not to think of his hot body touching hers. A warm numbness spread through her.

  "What are you all doing anyway?” she said. “I thought Oban was the navigator."

  "Oh, for sure, he is. He does the important things. We just take the sightings to check our position. So we know where we are."

  She had guessed that, but his voice turned her insides gooey. She glanced up at his smiling face. He removed the chains from his hair clips, untangled them and put them back. Finding herself lost in his extraordinary yellow eyes, she blinked to break his spell.

  "Can you teach me how to do sightings?"

  "What in Totey's name for?"

  "Because it looks interesting, and I want to see if I can."

  He chuckled. "I'd wager you can. You're a smart girl, Lissa. That trick you pulled at the festival was neat. I'll slip my basics book to you later. Make sure no one catches you with it, or we'll both be for the whip,” he whispered.

  She nodded vigorously. "I'll be careful."

  "I know you will." He hurried off.

  On her way back to the hatch, her gaze was drawn to a dark smudge on the starboard horizon. Could it be land so soon? She looked for someone to ask, and then heard the clanking of chains and screech of metal on metal. Men hauled on the horizontal wheel of the winch, adjusting the flux vanes. Shadows swung across the deck, and the ship turned slowly away from the dark horizon. She scurried out of their way, climbing belowdecks back to the galley.

  Her mind was far from her work as she helped the other girls cook supper. She replayed everything that Mampalo had taught his apprentices, certain that if she understood the numbers she might be able to figure out what all the squiggles, lines and symbols meant on the navigator's charts. It would mean defying the navigator though. Could she even learn it all? The apprentices probably took several Sunturns to become proficient.

  When she hung her scheepa that night, she found a small book inside, its cover faded and dog-eared. She clutched it to her chest, peered both ways along the empty hallway, and then undressed, climbed into her scheepa, and rubbed her fingers across the book cover.

  "Navigation for Neophytes using the suns, moons and stars," read the title.

  She gingerly opened it at page one and began to read. There were many pictures and diagrams, and she spent extra time studying them, peering intently at every detai
l. Some of the pages were filled with numbers like those in the navigator's book. She forgot everything around her, and turned each page in wonder of what she would learn next.

  Most of the diagrams featured triangles, surrounded with mathematics explaining how to use the relative positions of both suns to the moons. She grasped the concept, but the calculations were like an alien language. One section described how to translate sighting numbers into a location on the map. She leaned back and remembered the navigator’s map rulers.

  When she reached the end of the book, she grunted, having wanted more. She marveled at the knowledge bouncing around her mind. An incredible new world. Her legs cramped and her side ached, so she stretched her whole body, wincing as her neck bones cracked. How long had she lay there reading?

  * * *

  The next afternoon, Lissa sat alone in one of the storerooms, a heap of used globelights in front of her. Alice cursed and whined from the galley as she cleaned the ovens. All of the girls hated that job, and Alice had used to force Branda to do it, but Cook had put a stop to that. Lissa picked up a globelight and inspected it for cracks. Then she extracted the metal pins from the bottom and replaced them with new ones. It was a simple chore, but boring.

  "Need a hand?" a familiar male voice asked.

  She jumped and dropped the globe. It clacked against the pile but didn't break. Mampalo sat opposite her and smiled. She stared into his gorgeous yellow eyes, then shook her head and looked away.

  "I didn't realize there were so many globes onboard," she said, her voice squeaking.

  "Aye, and those pins bend far too easily. I've spent many a day as a young lad doing this." He picked one up and rolled it around in his hands.

  "Can we talk about the book?" she whispered.

  His eyes flicked up and down the hallway. "You've started it already?"

  "I've finished it."

  He blinked repeatedly. "You've read it all?"

  "Every page. It was great, but harder than I thought."

  He chuckled, tossed the globe into the air and caught it.

  "You're yanking my bowlines, aren't you?" He glanced at her and his grin faded. "You read the entire book? Every page? And it made sense?"