by Jordan Rivet
“How do you mean?”
“Most of the people don’t even know each other. We stand out because of our clothes, not because of our unfamiliar faces.”
“It’s a different way of life, that’s true,” Simon said. “Even with all the conveniences and opportunities that come from having a bigger pool of talent and resources, there is still a cost. What we have on the Catalina is special because we’ve all been through exactly the same thing together and there are so few of us that we all know one another. But that makes it insular and even catty sometimes.”
“That’s sure true.”
“You know, Esther,” Simon said, turning away from the greenhouse to follow their guide, “this place presents an interesting choice for us. It’s an alternate way of life, and when presented with an alternative, we can’t help but reassess the way we do things.”
“What would you change about the Catalina?” Esther asked.
“That isn’t exactly what I meant, but I’m sure we’ll gather some ideas. This watering system, for instance, is rather ingenious, don’t you think? You could build something like this.”
“Yeah, if we had any living plants.”
They had nearly reached the end of the fields, where a large water tank fed a system of pipes spread along the edges of the soil. Esther watched a worker turn on the system and start to sprinkle pure water across the dirt. She wondered which desal method they used for the gardening water.
“I think the greater benefit,” Simon said, “is that this encounter allows us to assess the way we relate to each other. From what I can tell, the Galaxy has developed a number of subcultures. They are all connected, but there is a separation between the groups that goes deeper than loyalty to a dominant personality. I would very much like to spend some time studying the subcultures. The artistic community on the Emerald, the people who work manual jobs, the apparent aristocracy of the Galaxy Crown. We have our own subcultures on the Catalina, but we are united in our own way. We treat each other as equals, even when we don’t like someone much.”
“Except for Judith.”
Esther looked over at where Judith was conversing with David Hawthorne, or rather, where she was glowering at him, arms crossed, while he delivered a polished oration. As he spoke, he happened to glance their way and cocked an eyebrow at Esther. She dropped her gaze.
“Judith has never put herself above others,” Simon said, “not in the way I mean. She has a single-minded certainty that she is the very best person to lead the Catalina. She may be didactic, but it’s a simple matter of knowing her capabilities and acting accordingly.”
“I don’t know why you’ve forgiven her so easily,” Esther said. For her, the situation had been very clear: her dad had been a benevolent leader who put together a fair and equal system, and Judith usurped him.
“Contrary to the rumors,” Simon said, “I’ve never wanted to rule the Catalina. I was the right person for the job while we were getting organized. But now I suppose Judith is right about her suitability for keeping us in line. The council wasn’t working like it was supposed to anyway when she stepped up.”
“If Judith is so good at her job,” Esther said, “I wish she’d get us into some trade discussions. That’s what we really need.”
Esther snuck a look at the pair again. This time David Hawthorne didn’t see her.
“There’s plenty of time. I wouldn’t worry. You should enjoy yourself. Explore. Make some friends. Learn some new tricks. This will be good for—”
Suddenly a commotion broke out back by the greenhouse. Several of the field workers were shouting, their words indistinct. The tour group turned to see that the three women who’d been working with the young plants had climbed on top of the greenhouse.
“Stop the lies! Equality for all! Stop the lies! Equality for all!”
The blond woman had tied a long strip of cloth around her forehead and she was shouting slogans through a tube of plastic to amplify her voice.
Esther stared, transfixed, as the girl paced back and forth across the greenhouse.
“Where are the vegetables? Where is the oil? The captains are scum! Equality for all!”
Together, the other two women unfurled a large flag. It bore the Galaxy Cruises insignia of a field of starfish. The word “Cruises” had been crossed out and “of thieves” was scrawled across the bottom in bright orange letters.
“Galaxy of thieves? What does that mean?” Esther said.
Simon shook his head, watching the protest with a frown on his face.
The three women chanted together: “Where are the vegetables? Where is the oil?”
Their tour guide had recovered by now. “Oh, don’t worry about that. We’d better get back to the ferry. Quickly now, move along.” She flapped her arms like a seal waving its flippers and ushered them toward the ladder. “We’ll be late for your next tour. Come on now.”
Reluctantly, the Catalinans began filing down the ladder to the platform below. Esther slipped around the woman, still trying to see what was going on by the greenhouse. Five men in matching uniforms ran toward it. They scaled the wall quickly and ripped the banner away from the two women. The blond danced out of their reach, still screaming slogans into her plastic tube.
“Equality for all! Where are the vegetables?”
Jane, the tour guide, was insistent now, actually taking Esther’s arm and propelling her toward the ladder. Esther looked around for Judith, but Hawthorne had whisked her away already. Had she seen what was going on? As the guide forced Esther down the ladder, trying to push her head beneath the level of the deck with her pudgy hands, Esther saw one of the men punch the blond girl in the mouth, knocking her down.
Esther was shaking by the time she reached the bobbing platform in the shadow of the gardening ship.
“What was that about?” she asked the guide.
“Oh that?” Jane’s face remained impassive, except for a slight tic in her cheek. “That was nothing. Just Zoe. She’s a little unbalanced. Nothing to worry about at all.”
“What did she mean about the vegetables and oil?”
“It’s nonsense, I’m sure. Oh, here’s your ferry. Good-bye! Thank you for visiting the Galaxy Gardens. Do come again.”
And with that she scrambled back up the ladder before anyone could ask more questions.
Esther sat heavily beside her father. They exchanged looks, but neither knew what to say. It was like a dark shadow had been cast over the flotilla. That was very strange. The ferry lurched and sped away from the gardening ship, returning them to the sleek corridors of the Emerald as quickly as possible.
Chapter 14—Judith
ESTHER TRIED TO FOLLOW Simon’s advice to learn more about the Galaxy, more confused by the place than ever after what they’d witnessed on the gardening ship. When she finished her maintenance duties on the Catalina each day, she would cross the bridge to the Emerald and wander through the flotilla. Occasionally, she’d take the water taxis across to the projects on the cargo ships.
Once, she walked down to the engine room of the Emerald, but a uniformed guard headed her off at the stairwell and told her it was off-limits to visitors. She was disappointed. She wanted ideas that would enhance her own work, but it was clear that the guest services did not extend to providing that kind of information. Everyone’s answers to her queries were completely polite, of course, but she made no headway. She still felt the damaged desal system like an open wound. She couldn’t fully enjoy anything until it had healed.
Esther struck up a friendship with Byron, the water taxi skipper, and plied him with questions. Unlike the Guest Services people, he wasn’t trying to impress her. He described a Galaxy that was a bit less harmonious than it appeared. There was dissent. Not everyone was happy to be relegated to bilge work and fishing duty when some people were living in luxury on the Galaxy Crown. That girl, Zoe, must not have been as unbalanced as the tour guide made her sound. What had happened to her?
By the end of th
e first week with the Flotilla, the Catalinans were starting to get used to the Galaxy way of life. Adele and the rest of the Guest Services guides were always ready with food, water, and entertainment. Bernadette mumbled about their “used-car salesman” attitude, though Esther didn’t know what that meant. Some Catalinans had taken to wearing Galaxy-style clothes. Gracie Cordova had acquired a pair of high heels, and she tottered around the decks in them like a baby stork.
Judith had been ushered to dinner after dinner with the ship captains. She was always invited alone and returned looking uncomfortably intoxicated and frustrated. Esther asked her about trade arrangements, and was rebuffed with a curt “I’m working on it.”
A gnawing sense of their vulnerability stayed with Esther. She wasn’t sleeping well. She felt weary with worry over the disaster she had caused and a growing sense of unease with the Galaxy. She kept track of their time with the Flotilla, carving notches into the floor of the bowling alley. The days were passing, and they were no closer to fixing their water system, becoming self-sufficient, and moving on.
Then, on the eighth day since they arrived at the Flotilla, Judith paid her a visit. Esther had retreated to her repair work in the desal room, preparing the space for when they’d eventually have the filters they needed to produce their own water again. She was on her hands and knees, sawing through a pipe, when Judith entered.
“Esther!” she snapped.
Esther’s hands slipped and she narrowly avoided sawing off her finger. “Judith? What are you doing here?” She set down her tools and stood.
Judith stayed by the door, not venturing down the lanes. Her face looked a bit rounder than it used to, perhaps from all the fancy dinners she had been attending, but her lips were pinched in a thin line.
“Have you managed to talk with anyone about trading for parts?” Judith asked.
Esther raised her eyebrows. “No, no one will talk to me. You said you were working on it.”
“Yes, well, I’d hoped you might have made some headway. I certainly haven’t.” Judith shifted stiffly on her feet, clearly uncomfortable with whatever she had come here to say.
Esther wanted to stay where she was and make Judith come to her. Judith certainly hadn’t made any effort to make Esther feel comfortable. But as Judith stood there in the doorway to her workspace, Esther remembered her father’s words about Judith being good for the Catalina. He didn’t seem to think Esther gave Judith enough credit, intent as she was on maintaining the old grudge. But Simon was the one Judith had supplanted, not Esther, and he was willing to forgive. Maybe he was right.
Esther sighed and walked up one of the lanes to join Judith by the door. “What’s been happening at those dinners?” she asked.
“Nothing. That’s the problem,” Judith said. “They give me food and wine, make me sit through interminable violin performances, but every time I bring up the future of the Catalina they put me off. ‘Let’s not talk business now. Have another drink. You must try this abalone. There will be plenty of time to talk about the Catalina.’”
“It’s been more than a week,” Esther said.
“I know. At first I thought they just work at a different pace here and it’s all part of doing business, but . . .”
“You think they’re up to something?” Esther asked. She thought about the protest they’d seen on the gardening ship. Stop the lies. The captains are scum.
“I don’t know,” Judith said. “But you’ve seen how much they’ve given us already. The food and water. The clothes. They have to be expecting something in return.” Judith frowned, looking up the aisle of the bowling alley at where Esther’s work was progressing.
She wasn’t wearing Galaxy clothes, Esther noticed.
“What are the captains like?”
“Condescending,” Judith said, scowling.
In spite of herself, Esther grinned. Judith must hate being talked down to. Esther hated it too.
“Captain Ryan is the worst. He acts benevolent, even charming, but he hasn’t given me a straight answer all week.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Esther asked.
It felt surreal to have Judith standing in her workspace at all, much less confiding in her.
Judith sighed. When she spoke, it was like she was pulling the words up from the very bottom of the sea.
“I need your help.”
Esther suddenly imagined a jellyfish surfacing to ask for a cigarette. It was about as likely as Judith asking her for help.
“Okay . . . what can I do?” she said.
“You know that David Hawthorne has been taking me on daily tours,” Judith said. “The one thing I’ve asked to see and been flat-out denied is the oil tankers. The captains seem to be lobbying for us to join the Galaxy, but I absolutely cannot entertain the possibility if they won’t let us see such important facilities. I want you to sneak onto one of them and find out what’s really going on.”
Again Esther felt that surreal sensation. Who was this, and what had she done with Judith?
“Why me?”
“You can do it,” Judith said simply, meeting Esther’s eyes. “Also, I know you’ve been working on developing a new generator in addition to your desal work. If you get caught, just tell them you’re doing research. Make it sound like you didn’t know you weren’t supposed to be on an oil tanker, but you really want to get ideas for your experiments, and couldn’t they cut you some slack?”
Esther felt a bit flattered that Judith knew the details of her work.
“You know I’ve been working on a generator? Why haven’t you—?”
“It’s still a waste of time,” Judith snapped. “But you have a disregard for authority that will serve you well. You’ll be able to defend yourself if you get caught. Besides, everyone knows that we’re not on good terms. I don’t want the captains finding out that I’ve been snooping, in case things turn sour. It could put the Catalina in a sticky situation. If Manny went, for example, there’s no way he’d convince anyone that he acted alone.”
“But I could cover for you?”
“Yes,” Judith said. “And you will too, because it’ll be the best way to protect the Catalina and everyone on board.”
Esther met Judith’s gaze. She was relieved that someone else had noticed the inconsistencies, had noticed that everything couldn’t be as clean and easy on the Galaxy as the Guest Services people had made it sound. And it was Judith who had noticed, Judith who was swallowing her pride to ask Esther for help. Perhaps Esther hadn’t been entirely fair to her.
“I’ll do it,” she said.
Judith nodded curtly. “Good. Good. Don’t tell me the details. I’ll deny everything if you get caught.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Judith turned and strode from the room without another word.
Esther’s first order of business was to get a ride. The oil tankers were not connected by bridges to any of the other ships. She needed a boat to get out to them, and none of the passenger ferries would take her. So she went looking for Byron, the taxi skipper.
She flagged him down on the pretext of arranging another visit to the gardening ship for her dad. She stood on an Emerald platform and spoke to him over the gap as passengers loaded into his taxi.
“Byron, I know you’re not supposed to, but is there any chance you could take me over to one of the oil tankers?”
Byron looked over his shoulder, then started up the outboard motor of his taxi. He leaned toward her, speaking quietly while the motor grumbled away, coughing smoke over his passengers. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Something’s going on there, isn’t it?” she said.
“I haven’t been over myself, but it’s off-limits, lass. Not worth the risk.”
“What would happen to me?”
“Look, I really can’t talk to you about this.” Byron glanced back at his passengers again, but they all seemed to be wrapped up in conversation. “I’ve got a daughter and a wife. I need to provide for th
em. I could lose my taxi, or worse.”
“Could you at least get me close?” Esther pressed. She was disturbed by the fear in his voice. “I don’t mind swimming part of the way,” she said. “No one needs to see you dropping me off.”
Byron pulled off his tweed cap and twisted it in his hands, studying a hole near the brim.
“Oy, are we shoving off or what?” one of the passengers shouted.
“Hold yer sea horses. We’re going,” Byron called. “Look”—he dropped his voice so that Esther could barely hear him—“I’m doing a commuter run tonight. Need to get ’em back to their quarters on one of the cargo vessels, and we’ll be sailing right by the tankers. If you can sneak onto the taxi and slip off into the water without anyone seeing, I’ll get you close enough to swim. Be back here at seven thirty sharp and make sure no one sees you, got it?”
Esther nodded. “Thanks.”
Byron slapped his cap back on his head and soon he was sailing away, leaving tendrils of motor exhaust in his wake.
Chapter 15—The Oil Tanker
THAT EVENING, ESTHER MADE her way back to the platform. She wore her jacket zipped up over her storm goggles and had stuffed a plastic bag for her boots into the inner pocket. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going. She felt nervous, but she was also buzzing with adrenaline. Finally, she was doing something useful!
After crossing the bridge from the Catalina to the Emerald, she pulled a Galaxy Cruises hat from beneath her jacket. She’d “borrowed” it from Reggie when he was at dinner. She pulled the cap low over her eyes and tucked her hair back. She waited in an alcove near the exit until a group had gathered on the platform, then slipped down behind them as the taxi pulled up. The workers were a loud bunch, many of them speaking a language Esther didn’t recognize. She avoided making eye contact and hoped no one would remember her. That was one advantage to being in a place with so many people.