by Jaymee Goh
The Amihan descended onto the coast of Aroroy, Masbate’s northernmost region, just upon a rocky outcropping near the sulfur-infested Burias Pass. Further out west, the waters mixed with the Sibuyan Sea, which contained blooms of poisonous jellyfish that had begun thriving once villagers no longer fished in the area. It would have been another beautiful place for people to soak in the sights, to jump from the high crags onto deep, pristine waters in order to cool off from the ever-present heat. But upon that point there was only a ship, its crew, two carabao, and three hundred-something passengers.
Caliso walked out onto the open bridge, peering down at the seemingly peaceful waters below. Dato had also stepped out, his goggles masking his expression just as Caliso’s did hers. But when she looked at him, she knew her first mate’s thoughts, knew that his forehead had crinkled in the way they would when he was worried. She turned her eyes back upon the water and waited. “There,” she said, pointing toward bubbling waters almost obscured by a rocky arch. “Looks ready to burst any minute.”
Dato whistled. “Want to get a crew down there to siphon?”
“Two crews. Either that or risk the entire rock area from exploding before any of our engineers can fuel the four corners. Gogg said the cracks ran underneath. Likely we’ve got a system of cracks below flowing with enough gas to blow this whole portion of the coast.”
Her first mate shook his head. “Worse than Mayon?”
She cringed. “Much worse.” She pushed herself away from the bridge’s bulwark. “Better get to work.”
Caliso paused at the entrance to the female changing rooms. One of Caliso’s crew, Esta, had volunteered her extra magma suit, rubber boots, and a pair of thick, rubber gloves to Mixa, who had donned it in favor over her baro’t saya. She’d swept her hair to the back and her tattoo was completely visible from the scoop neckline of a tucked-in yellow shirt. Caliso placed the royal woman’s age to almost fifteen years her junior, not yet the proper debut age. Too young to be handling volcanized gas. Even the magma suit seemed to dwarf her.
“The Prinsesa insisted,” a mechanical box said. The metallic nature of Esta’s vozbox had lacked the tone of amusement, but Esta’s face had told Caliso all she needed to know. “I informed her that volcano chasing was not for weak constitutions, but she’s said she’s done it before.”
“Oh?” Caliso crossed her arms over her chest. “And what crew did you belong to that would give you such experience?”
“My father believes that understanding the power of volcanoes would lead us to a better way of life.” Mixa had put the helmet over her face, and her voice crackled not unlike Esta’s vozbox. “The way of the mountains, he called it. He placed me under the tutelage of my eldest brother Raksan.”
Caliso resisted the urge to look impressed. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. “The captain of the Kalibutan?”
Mixa’s helmet bobbed, indicating a nod. Of all the luck, Caliso thought. The Kalibutan had been one of the few ships that had never been caught by the Cebuanos after volcano chasing had been decreed illegal. It was also the only thing the New Manila monarchy possessed that could very well buy them a city. But even kings and princes have their pride and dignity, and the Kalibutan forever remained off the market and in the hands of the royal family.
Caliso shrugged. “Now is not truly the time to test your mettle.” When it seemed as though Mixa was about to argue, the Amihan’s captain raised her hand. “But we are three members down and I need people who know what they’re doing to come with me. Esta, you, too. Dato has to oversee the refueling.”
Esta nodded. She was a horse-like middle-aged woman decked in coveralls that seemed too big for her. Esta was mute and used the assistance of a vozbox in order to speak to anyone. Even so, she hardly utilized the mechanism, choosing instead to communicate with her long hands and fingers. Since Mixa did not know the hand-language, however, Esta’s vozbox remained strapped to the woman’s side.
Esta pulled another magma suit out, Caliso following in her wake. The two dressed silently, Caliso grunting as she pulled her boots over the thin, but cushioned armor. She’d always detested wearing such protective clothing, especially on a siphoning. No suit would be strong enough to protect anyone from a volcanic explosion. Sure, it would slow the magma from burning flesh, but there was no stopping the gases and ash from suffocating them in the suit. Not to mention the force of the blast, which could very well crush them in seconds.
Still, at least Gogg’s new designs had made the suits more limber.
Caliso stood.
“I do not need to tell you how dangerous an active volcano can be,” she said. “If there is a possibility that it will erupt on your feet, you get out of the way as quickly as you can. Understood?”
The instruction had been more for Mixa’s benefit than Esta’s, yet both women’s helmets wobbled in assent. If the New Manila princess had been nervous, Caliso could not tell. “You can stay with me, Prinsesa, at least then I can keep my eye on your safety.”
“Ah, yes.” Something in Mixa’s voice hinted at wry amusement. “Can’t pay you if I’m dead, I suppose?”
“Exactly,” Caliso said. The Cebuanos would want the woman alive, and Caliso was loathe to disappoint them.
~*~
The climb down toward the water seemed endlessly long, and for a siphoning, this made all the difference.
“At this rate,” Caliso grunted, testing the rocks for a foothold, “we will likely be dead before the siphon can get to the gases.”
The bubbling waters, the slight shaking and breaking of rocks, the absence of jellyfish and other sea creatures, the increasing heat as they neared the bottom—these were what determined how close they would be to seeing an underwater mountain gush with powerful gases.
When both her feet found stable rock below, she waved to Mixa. The New Manila princess hunched over onto the rock wall, scaling down and following Caliso’s path. Esta and several other engineers—Legazpi passengers and volcano chasers—took their turn as well, some following Caliso and Mixa’s course, the others taking Esta’s backup route. The captain’s climb became more wary and over-cautious after each level of descent, and every few paces, she’d paused to gauge the wall’s rumblings. Twice, she and Mixa had stayed still long enough to feel the rocks vibrate and hiss with flowing steam. Caliso had turned her head to the side to prevent the gases from blurring her vision.
Halfway down the long climb, Caliso slipped.
One hand clung desperately to the rock above, while the other clutched onto the thick, rapidly-fraying wire that connected her to the ship. Her feet flailed, and she felt her sweating hands slip slowly out of her rubber gloves. Caliso closed her eyes and breathed heavily through her mouth, misting her helmet. She looked down and her heart-rate increased. It was not the fall that had made her seize up in panic; if she survived the slip, she’d be killed by the rocks.
Mixa was at her side before Caliso’s panic could fully take over. The New Manila princess held onto her wire, her feet steady and still, her other arm snaking over Caliso’s waist, pressing her magma suit towards the rock with surprising strength. Caliso half-flailed with one hand and found a handhold close to her head. With both hands now clinging to rocks, she raised her body somewhat and felt below for something to steady her dangling feet. When she found herself stable again, she took deep breaths, calming herself.
“Thanks,” she whispered. Mixa had already moved back to her position.
She slowed her climb to a crawling pace. By the time she hit the ground, she saw Esta already anchored on the other side of the bubbling water, just beneath the entrance of a cavern. Esta signaled above for the siphon and tube. She nodded once to her captain, then began to communicate with gestures and signals to the line of men and women who’d followed her route.
“Why the two teams?” Mixa asked as she landed next to the Amihan’s captain. The two removed their wires—Caliso discarded hers with more contempt than necessary—and walked further toward the
water.
“In case one doesn’t make it back,” Caliso said.
“Oh.”
“Familiar with siphoning from an underwater volcano?”
“Different from taking gases above ground,” Mixa said, crouching to look at the water. There were several large pop pop pops in the water bubbles, then long periods where it merely splashed upon the rocks. The New Manila princess stirred her rubber gloves in and pulled her hand out of the water quickly. “Hot.” She looked up. “It’s one thing to siphon gas out of cracks in the rocks, quite another to extract gas bubbles out of water. Kuya Raksan had a deal of trouble using the accepted method.”
She felt the princess hesitate, and Caliso frowned. “But?”
“We started using a filter and conversion system recently.” Caliso detected a tone of pride in Mixa’s voice. “So our water siphon works the same way as the regular siphon, except our tube gets fitted with several semi-permeable filter chambers that—” She paused again, as though she’d spoken too much on the subject. “The point is there’s no need for the extra tubing.”
Caliso fought to hide her grudging respect for the young woman. Politics had been easy to ignore, and the begging and pleading even easier. Caliso had expected a pampered, smooth-skinned girl with idealistic ideas and no clue as to their implementation. What she saw instead was someone with exceptional talents, a girl who’d survived in a nation of explosions using her mind and physicality. She almost belonged on the airship as a volcano chaser, and it made Caliso begin to think that the price Cebu City had on Mixa’s capture was too damn low. The end of the trip would be unpleasant at the least, with a tasteless betrayal coming soon to the talented young princess.
She stiffened. Since when had she begun thinking of her impending action as a tasteless betrayal?
“A pity then that we still use the accepted method,” Caliso said drily. She waved to the crew at the top of the cliff. “But Gogg is more than happy to implement new upgrades, should you choose to want to divulge any designs.”
Her crew had secured themselves on parts of the wall, either planting their feet safely on jutting rock, or strapping their waists upon the wires that held them together. When the crew member at the top saw her hand signal, he waved back, and two more people came close to the cliffs, lowering the tube and the water siphon.
The tube snaked its way from the edge of the rock wall, led quickly down by the crew members pulling on the metal rungs attached to the sides. The top-most engineers used a harness to send down the siphon needle, which—unlike the one they’d used at Bulkang Mayon—was a system of two glass vials, one closed at an end, the other open. The vials were connected to each other by a small passage in the middle. At the ends were two tubes, both made out of clear malambaso, more malleable than the vials, and certainly more movable.
Caliso’s footing wobbled at the vibrating ground, and she steadied herself with the use of her wire. Before the siphon touched the floor, she reached for the tubes and began to move it towards the water.
By then another series of pop pop pops began, culminating in a splash so high that the water made it to the landing where Mixa and Caliso stood. Caliso had gotten out of the way, but Mixa took the hit of water, and she yelped.
“You hurt?” Caliso said.
“I—no,” Mixa admitted. “Slight surprise, that’s all.” She grabbed the end rung of the siphon tube and pulled it closer to Caliso. She crouched low, easing the open end of the tube onto the glass siphons, making sure only the open vial was connected to the retractable tubing.
Across from them, there was a cry as more water began to splash upon Esta’s group. Someone stumbled from their position upon the rock wall, and it took over a minute for another to help the fallen regain his footing.
The ground rumbled beneath Caliso, so hard and fast that she almost toppled over into the water. Thankfully, she had been grasping at the tubes, which kept her in her place. Caliso let out a series of curses, then shoved one of the malambaso tubes into the water. She nodded at Mixa, who flipped a switch just to the side of the siphon tube.
That was when the underwater volcano exploded.
~*~
The force of the water sent Caliso flying toward the bottom of the rock wall. The tubes followed her, and it took all of Caliso’s energy to maneuver herself so that she got in between the glass vials and the falling rocks. A chunk of the solid landing had been pushed out by the force of water and gas. Caliso saw the debris scatter up and down, a threatening precipitation of rock. She rolled over to cover the glass vials, and had done it just in time to get struck by the large rocks. She groaned in agony and knew she would be sore later.
Mixa was no longer clinging onto the tube rung. There was a scream and frantic splashing, alerting her exactly where Mixa had gone.
Caliso felt the aching in her arms as she dragged the tubing with her, noting that it continued to suck in air. She struggled for a moment, then pushed one malambaso tube back into the water. She found that one of her engineers leapt from his position to hold onto the rungs to keep the tubes from flying out again. With a brief thanks, Caliso let go of the tubes. She searched the water.
The ground had fallen away from Mixa, and Caliso found her struggling to remain afloat in her magma suit within boiling, turbulent waters. Another pop pop pop, and Mixa yelped again, pushed further away out toward the open waters.
Strange, Caliso thought. The magma suits had been a light design, easy enough for anyone to swim back onto the shore, even in heated temperatures. Caliso began yelling for Mixa to swim back, directing her to the rocks, but found something wrong with the way Mixa flailed. It took a few moments to realize why she found this strange, and why she began to stare at the horizon in horror.
The New Manila princess didn’t know how to swim.
~*~
The waters buffeted Mixa further out into the sea, away from what continued to be an erupting volcano. The ground and arching rocks continued to shake, like carabao shedding the excess water from their skins. Besides Caliso, the siphon sucked in the water and gases, dispelling the water back onto the volcanic top whilst taking the gases up onto the airship.
Captains did not have room for doubt. Yet Caliso stood there, staring at the horizon, at the struggling form of the young monarch, at the open sea filled with creatures poisonous enough to kill with a single, solitary brush of their skins. She stood, unable to make the decision to save or abandon. Mixa would not survive once she reached deep waters. If she didn’t sink by then, she’d be taken in by the jellyfish poison. Getting her back was a measure of risk no skeleton crew should have to take.
Caliso remembered her fall only minutes ago, and the saving hand that guided her back onto the rocks. She saw in her mind the image of a young woman and the way she soothed a crowd of worried passengers. She recalled the conversation that passed between them, the young woman’s voice filling with passion and brilliance, of ideas that could very well change the way volcano chasers worked their equipment.
“She’s worth that great risk,” Dato would say, his reverence of the royal family clear.
And perhaps he is right, Caliso thought.
It was a thought that brought her to a decision, so final and absolute that she had to stop herself from shaking, both with fright and anger. Fright for her life, and anger for being careless once again. She should not have brought Mixa down with her.
She leapt into the water, her magma suit altering its temperature to neutralize the heat of the volcanized water. She kicked forward and swam, stroke for stroke, her helmet swiveling from side to side as she continued toward Mixa’s course.
The underwater volcano eased her swim, yet it was still difficult to move. The magma suit would only last so long before the heat would sink in. Caliso did not have much time before the real temperatures would hit her, but she pushed that thought out of her mind, swimming further and further, toward the woman who was beginning to sink.
She reached the fatigued princess
and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her torso up so that her helmet was no longer half-submerged in water. Caliso heard the hard breathing and the panicked whimpers beneath the helmet, felt most of the fight leave Mixa.
“Keep awake,” Caliso ordered, pulling at the waist and swimming with her other hand. “And kick the water back, you fool! Don’t make this any harder for me than it is.” It had been a stroke of luck that the captain made it to where Mixa had been. The New Manila princess was wading on dangerous deep waters.
Mixa did as she was instructed, kicking the water in silence as Caliso continued to swim with one hand. Several times, Caliso heard the young woman let out a sob, then a prayer, and finally, a series of thanks for saving her life.
Caliso winced, arm tingling from her sidestroke. “We’re not there just yet. Save your thanks for later.”
She headed toward Esta’s team. The older engineer must have seen her captain move toward the water, for she had one of the crew members waiting there, hand outstretched, the other holding fast upon a wire. Caliso swam toward him, her strokes slowing, her breathing becoming more difficult. Just a little more, she told herself, just a little…
And the hand reached her arm, pulling, pulling. Then several hands, and finally, both women were out of the water and lying on the ground. Mixa removed her helmet, stumbled back to the edge of the rocks and retched. Caliso remained where she lay, taking deep breaths.
Her vision blurred. When Esta’s helmet hovered over her, she saw not one, but two Estas side by side. She blinked several times to dispel the dizziness, but instead it resulted in a third head. She tried to move, to say anything. Nothing.
Esta had said something to cause the crew to stir toward Caliso. Two men came quickly to the captain’s side. They lifted her body, strapped her with several wires, dragged her toward the rock wall. With her hanging in the middle, both men made their climb.
She felt the pain in her arm, sharp and fast and hot. She also felt the draft, and knew that her magma suit had been punctured at some point. Yet she couldn’t remember when it had happened, or where. She slipped into unconsciousness, but not before she realized the cause of her debilitation.