by Graeme Ing
She poked her tongue out and threw her globe. It hit him in the chest before rolling off into the corner. She held up another and took aim at him.
"Why shouldn't it?" she asked. "Are you saying I'm stupid?"
He thrust his hands into the air, then smiled and pretended to cower.
"No, no, no. Easy. I've never ever heard of a girl-" He waved his hands defensively. "-reading that book, or any book, actually. I train the young 'uns day after day and they barely get it. My own instructor used to slap me sore before it made any sense to me."
He shrugged and looked at his fingernails.
"I didn't understand everything," she said quietly, and continued her work, glad that he had decided to help. "But it did make a lot of sense, even if I've no idea what a porcelles-triangle is, or a time-compensated-ascension-angle. I think I've got the hang of the sun-triangle section, and..."
He stared at her, mouth open, eyes wide. He ran his fingers through his hair.
"You really did read it," he said. "You understand that much already?"
They worked in silence for a while, and then he added, "So is your curiosity satisfied now?"
"Satisfied? I've only just started. Teach me the sighting device. Please?"
Two men stomped down the ladder. They headed aft, but their voices carried easily.
"Damn storm'll hit day after 'morrow, I tell you," one said.
"Betcha five dujin we outrun it," the other replied in a rough voice.
"Are they talking about that black cloud to starboard?" she asked Mampalo. "Is it another water fountain?"
"No. I think this one's a flux storm."
She shivered. "What's that?"
The man with the rough voice snorted. "More violent than any storm you ever saw back on yer farm, little girl."
"I'm not from a farm," she said.
"You ain't seafolk neither." He poked his head around the corner, and she jumped. He pulled the skin away from his eyes with both hands and scrunched his mouth.
"A flux storm's when the Gods come out to play." His grin was full of blackened teeth. "And they don't like little girls."
Both men roared with laughter, and thumped back up the ladder.
"Ignore those idiots," Mampalo said.
"So when are you going to teach me?" she whispered.
He exhaled loudly and rolled his eyes. "Ironically, you might turn out to be my best student. Imagine that. It'll be our secret. Agreed?"
She nodded. "Thank you. When do we start?"
"Tonight, in the manger. No one goes there late."
* * *
Lissa arrived early, looking back down the hallway to make sure no one saw her slipping inside the manger. Her skin tingled at the thought of the clandestine meeting and her first lesson. The animals shuffled about, lowing quietly and kicking up grass. They were used to her presence now, so she sat on a bail of gilli-grass, and stared at the door.
He kept her waiting for a quarter of a bell, and then the door creaked open and he appeared, grinning and brandishing one of the portable sighting instruments. He squeezed between the clumsy oglons, who refused to move, and perched beside her.
"Take this," he said. "It's called a stellar circle."
It was heavier than it looked, and she used both hands. The metal discs were cold to the touch. Hundreds of minuscule numbers had been etched into the center disc. A pair of adjustment dials protruded from the bottom, which she suspected rotated a second, smaller disc, while the other manipulated a tiny square of glass. It reflected the globelight around the room in a flickering motion, chased by a family of solags. She turned the stellar circle over in her hands, and rubbed the beveled edges and ornate fittings. It was far more impressive in real life than the book had indicated.
"Go ahead," he prompted. "Put it to your eye and get a feel. Hold it here and here."
He leaned across, took her left hand and placed it on the main disc. She quivered at his soft touch and warmth spread through her body. She let him slide her right hand to the bottom, where he placed her fingers on the adjustment dials. Her heart raced.
The doors sprang open.
Alice and Lyndon stepped into the room, globelights held high. Animals scattered in all directions, bleating and lowing, slipping on the slick grass and crashing into the walls. Jab-birds squawked and fluttered across the room.
"Just as I thought," Alice screeched. She kicked a solag. It bucked before scampering behind an oglon, which lurched sideways and knocked a food trough over. Feed sprayed across the room.
"I knew you two were seeing each other behind my back." Her face was purple, and her bottom lip quivered in a pout. Her fists clenched and opened repeatedly.
Lissa tore her hands from Mampalo's and dropped the stellar circle behind her. Alice couldn't know what they were doing. Lissa would die if Mampalo got in trouble. She edged away from him.
"It's not what you think," she said.
"We're not doing anything behind your back," Mampalo said quietly. He stood and brushed down the tunic of his uniform. "It's not your business-"
"I'm not stupid. I've seen you together. Like this afternoon. 'Need a hand?'" She made a whiney imitation of Mampalo, and then turned on Lissa. "You've been desperate to steal him from me, haven't you? I hate you."
She stamped her foot, and the animals pushed further from her. "He's mine."
Lissa glanced at Mampalo. He smiled at Alice and patted the air with his hands.
"Alice," he said and stepped toward her, hands away from his sides. "It's late. Stop before you say something you'll regret."
"I told you this was a bad idea," Lyndon mumbled.
"Shut up," Alice hissed.
Lissa glanced from Alice to Mampalo and back to Alice. If this was the reason for the hatred between them then she could end it right now, but she probably couldn’t get the girl to believe her. Her shoulders slumped.
Alice uttered a squealing cry of anguish and charged across the room toward Lissa, dodging Mampalo as he tried to grab her.
"I'm not going to regret this," she said and formed a pair of fists.
She slipped in a fresh pile of dung, and tumbled forward, her eyes wide. She flailed to grab hold of a solag, but it bolted out of reach and she sprawled facedown in the grass underfoot. Lyndon cackled like a burri-bird, but when he saw no one else had joined in, he shut his mouth with a clack of teeth.
Mampalo rushed forward to help Alice. She smacked his hands away and slowly got to her feet, holding her head high, her face quivering and bright red. Gilli-grass stuck to her dress and hair. Lissa couldn't help but stare at her.
"You need to cool off," Mampalo said. "Let me escort you for some fresh air."
He snagged her arm and dragged her toward the door. He glanced at Lissa and grimaced.
"I'll get you," Alice mouthed to Lissa behind his back, and then they both left the room.
Lissa glanced at Lyndon. Why was he even here?
"Can't you explain to her-?" she began, but he ignored her and walked out.
* * *
After breakfast the next morning, Lissa and Branda left the galley loaded with bowls of steaming oodspal, oglon milk, and flatbreads stuffed with cold sliced meat. They had made it a habit to leave Alice to eat alone in the galley. The moment they stepped into the storeroom, Lyndon leaped from the shadows, scowling and his jaw clenched.
Branda cried out.
He smashed the breakfast from her hand. The wooden bowl clattered to the floor, spraying oodspal over the floor and walls. Her flatbread landed at his feet and he crushed it with his toe. He clapped his other hand across her mouth.
"Be quiet."
Lissa had barely turned before her head snapped back as Alice grabbed her hair and yanked it down. Pain lanced through her scalp. She squealed and bent backwards to prevent her hair from being ripped from her head. She rotated and tried to bash Alice over the head with her bowl, but Alice sent it flying into the corner. Alice grabbed her by the waist and pushed her to the
floor, dodging Lissa's flailing arms and legs, landing on top of Lissa.
"Hold her," Alice barked.
Lyndon moved his nose against Branda's. "One scream and I'll beat you to a pulp."
Branda stamped hard on his foot, making him howl. He backhanded her across the face. Lissa winced. Despite her tiny size, Branda shoved him against the bulkhead and kneed him between the legs.
"Let him have it," Lissa cried, then Alice smashed her head against the hard floor.
After kicking Alice's shin, Lissa managed to roll on top of her, and pinned her arms. Alice spat repeatedly, but Lissa didn't dare release her grip to wipe away the disgusting drool oozing down her face.
Lyndon slapped Branda and she flew through the air, crumpling in a heap out in the hallway. He walked toward her.
"Leave that one, you moron," Alice screamed. "Get her off me."
He dragged Lissa off, allowing Alice to leap on her back and knock her to the floor, flat on her stomach.
"Now you're mine," Alice said in a low voice.
Lissa's heart jumped, thinking for a fleeting moment that Farq was in the room. She lay, panting with her cheek pressed into the wooden boards, her mind racing. Alice thrust a blade under her nose, one of the serrated knives that Lissa had spent so long sharpening. Her heart pounded. She struggled and kicked, fighting for breath. Lyndon knelt and held her hands down.
"Branda," she wheezed. "Go."
Branda had gotten to her feet, and despite blood spreading over one arm and an oozing cut on her mouth, she started back into the room.
"Get help, quickly," Lissa said.
Branda hesitated, and then ran for the ladder.
"Let her go," Alice said, and then waved the knife in front of Lissa's face. "I could kill you right now."
Struggling had worn Lissa out. Her chest heaved and her nose flared. She coughed, squirming enough to be able to breath. If she could get one hand free, then Alice would pay. Lyndon's fingers dug into her wrists, preventing her from getting any purchase on the wooden deck to throw Alice off.
"But if I do," Alice continued, "then I can't continue to torment you, and that's a lot more fun."
Lissa froze. Alice's voice was cold and controlled. What did she plan to do?
"Hurry up," Lyndon said. "The whole crew will be here soon."
"Shut up, you idiot. Let me do this my way."
Lissa could no longer see the knife. Her skin prickled, and her muscles tensed, spasming as she imagined the blade stabbing into her. A well-placed slice could leave her crippled for life. Her breath came in short, fast pants.
"If you hurt me, Farq will whip you," she said.
Alice laughed.
"Scared of facing me in a fair fight, is that it?" Lissa asked, hating that her voice squeaked. "You know I'd beat you without that knife-"
Alice yanked her hair and wadded a huge ball of it into her grip, holding Lissa's head up by her scalp. Lissa’s neck burned. She felt the knife dragging across her hair, close to her neck.
No, not that!
She screamed and screamed, but her cries were muffled by Lyndon's hand clamped across her mouth. The pressure on her jaw prevented her biting him. The cutting seemed to go on forever, until the pressure on her scalp finally eased. Her head crashed onto the floor.
"Sit up," Alice said, and she and Lyndon stepped away.
Lissa rolled sideways into a sitting position, back against a sack of vegetables. Alice threw an enormous bundle of auburn hair into her lap.
"Pick up your trash." She spun on her heel and left the room, head high, grinning from ear to ear.
Lissa caressed the long strands of her hair. Everything was numb. The room seemed to fade away, as if nothing was real except the hair in her hands. There was so much of it. Ten Sunturns of growth.
Slowly, she raised one hand to the base of her neck. A ragged hairline ran between her ears. She jerked her hand away. Tears gushed down her face and she shook with deep, uncontrollable sobs.
Chapter 18 - The Flux Storm
Cook discovered Lissa scrunched into a ball, a wad of hair pressed against her tear-stained cheeks.
"What, in the name of Anjan, happened here, child? Your hair! Branda, help her up."
Lissa shrugged away Branda's outstretched hands, and didn't stand until she had silently gathered every last strand. She clutched it all to her chest.
"Branda came screeching to me that Alice attacked you with a knife," Cook said, turning Lissa about and scrutinizing her arms and legs.
"I'm not hurt," Lissa muttered, her voice lifeless. "She cut off my hair-"
A tear bubbled out of one eye and trickled down to her lips. She touched a hand to her bare neck.
"They held me down. He threatened Branda."
"Who?" Cook asked.
"Lyndon."
"That girl's gone too far this time," Cook growled, and turned to the man behind her. "Grad, ask the crew chief to apprehend them both. Inform the deck master we are coming to see him."
"Aye, ma'am." He hurried away.
Cook led Lissa and Branda up to the outer deck. The crew chief, Farq and the captain were engaged in a heated discussion, and a crowd had gathered at a respectable distance. To one side, Nib had a firm hand on the shoulders of Alice and Lyndon. Alice sobbed openly, the first time Lissa had ever seen her cry. The girl had an angry red, swollen eye. Lissa tensed her belly, willed herself to get angry, but simply gave a long sigh.
Half of the sky had turned a murky black. The storm was so close she could see the clouds boiling and flickering with lightning. She turned away, wanting to go below and hide. Cook dragged her before the three men.
Farq was breathing heavily so she stared at her feet and tried to slip behind Cook. No questions. Not now, please. Seemingly from a distance, Cook addressed the captain, who said something in return, but Lissa fixed her gaze on a knothole in the deck. Farq would be furious that it hadn't been sealed. Cook nudged her and she blinked.
"Disembark her," the captain told Farq. "No questions."
He strode away.
Lissa took a wobbly step backward. What did that mean? It sounded ominous. Did he mean her or Alice? Surely, he meant Alice.
"Sam," Farq thundered. "Lock her up and don't let her out this time. If I see her face again, it will be her last breath."
"I'll lock the boy up separate," the crew chief replied. "There's been enough mischief."
"No. Return him to work."
"But he was an accomp-" Cook began.
"I said, no, woman."
Cook's arms wrapped around Lissa, and she let herself be escorted below. Alice cursed as they dragged her back to the rope locker. Lissa shook uncontrollably when they reached the galley, despite Branda holding her hand and stroking her arm.
"She's in shock," Cook told Branda. "Make her hot jalak-brew with plenty of sweet-crystals. Lissa, lie down for a while."
* * *
Cook's sympathy lasted only until the next morning. With Alice locked up again, she worked Lissa and Branda extra hard for the next two days. Between them, they cooked mountains of bread, meat and cakes; enough to feed five times the crew. Lissa’s head felt lighter and colder. Images of her hair strewn across the floor haunted her all day and she kept thinking of how long it had taken to grow. She gritted her teeth and worked harder.
"Why are we cooking so much?" she asked after two days without uttering a word.
"Flux storm," Cook grunted. "We can't outrun it forever."
Lissa glanced at Branda.
"We not use ovens during storm," Branda said. "It dangerous."
"Stop flapping your gums," Cook snapped. "We've got to prepare for an eight-day without them."
A sense of urgency had taken over the crew. Instead of gambling and smoking, they worked double watches securing the ship. There was little laughter and much muttered conversation.
"What are these flux storms like?" Lissa asked.
Branda grimaced. "I seen two. I stay down here."
"Why are they dangerous?"
"Stay out of trouble and do as you're told," Cook wheezed.
"Could they sink the ship?"
Cook rolled her eyes, snorted and walked out.
Later, Branda offered to trim Lissa's ragged hairline. Lissa pushed her away.
"Don't touch it. I don't want anyone touching my hair ever again."
Branda wailed and fled from the room.
"I'm sorry," Lissa called after her. "Come back."
Branda stiffened, but kept going.
Lissa returned to her storeroom and collapsed onto a sack of tubers, holding her head in her hands. The room closed in, and the low ceiling seemed to press down on her. I hate this place. How far was the next port? She trembled with the need to get off the ship. Sighing, she tapped her foot rapidly on the floor. Her fists tightened. I can't live like this.
She bolted upright and blew all the air out of her lungs. Alice wasn't going to win. Mampalo and the physiker believed in her, even the Klynaks did. The navigator didn't, but she would prove him wrong.
She jumped up and headed topside. When she emerged from the hatch, a strong wind blasted her with dust. She coughed and turned downwind. The crew worked furiously like a nest of hive-bugs, as they took down globelights, secured ropes, and lashed equipment to ladders and rails. They wore bandanas against the swirling dust, but their skin was bright red. Sheets of the grey powder lashed over the ship and swept across the deck to pile up in the corners.
Hazy circles marked the position of both suns above the overcast. Inky clouds chased the ship, flickering white as lightning stabbed within them. Thunder crashed, rumbling across the sky like the Gods at war. Her head throbbed.
She clasped one hand across her nose and mouth and ran up the aft stairs two at a time, gripping the rail as the ship pitched. She knocked on the navigator's door. Upon his command, she marched inside and the wind slammed the door behind her. The howling of the wind subsided. She brushed a thick layer of dust from her clothes. He had fastened the rear windows shut and pulled the drapes, as if doing so could deter the storm biting at the ship's heels.
His head jerked up. "Are you determined to pester me at every opportunity?" His eyes flicked to her empty hands. "What do you want?"