by Jordan Rivet
ESTHER HELD DAX’S ARM as they boarded the water taxi. It was dusk, and lights were coming on across the Galaxy Flotilla, rippling like fragments of sunlight on waves. They sped beneath the ships. Dents and gashes remained from the storm. Small boats tugged salvaged debris across the water. Both of the oil tankers had survived, but one had taken on a leak in two compartments. A crew of workers swarmed around it. Some hung from cables over the water, swaying in the movement of the sea as they patched up the hull.
Marianna had lent Esther a soft black dress that was long and loose on Esther’s frame. She wrapped her feet in gauze and stuck them into high-heeled boots. She wondered who had bothered to bring these onto a cruise ship in the first place. Marianna instructed her to walk on the balls of her feet, both to protect her stitches and keep from falling in the too-big shoes.
Despite Marianna’s reservations, Esther had decided to approach the captains and prevail upon them to take pity on the Catalina. She would ask the captains to send out a search party with supplies. What Marianna had said didn’t change that. If the captains wanted to consume other ships, they might be willing to help find this one. Esther would try to bargain with the captains, to swear whatever fealty they required. The Catalina would join the Flotilla and work for the captains if that’s what it would take. Nothing mattered more than finding the Catalina before the last drops of water from their reserves ran out.
This dinner was the quickest way to get to all the captains. Esther had wanted Neal to go instead of her, knowing he was a more persuasive speaker, but their ability to get to the captains hinged on Dax’s promise to introduce his Catalina girlfriend to his parents. Esther smoothed back her dark hair and hoped Dax hadn’t told too many people his new girlfriend was a redhead. She also didn’t look sixteen, but she was close enough.
Esther shifted in her seat beside Dax as their water taxi approached the Galaxy Crown. A mere handful of other boats followed in their wake. Most of those privileged enough to attend the dinner lived on the Crown already.
The Crown was grander than even the Emerald. It had been one of just a few super cruise ships in the world before the disaster, capable of carrying nearly six thousand passengers, along with hundreds of crew and staff. It had been designed to overwhelm with sheer excess. The hull sloped upward like a white cliff face. Metal and glass trimmings shone in the lights from the Flotilla. It was the biggest thing Esther had ever seen. She worried she’d have to limp up a retractable staircase and possibly rip her stitches. Instead, they sailed into the shadow of the huge hull to a railed platform rigged to a pulley system. They stepped straight to the platform from their boat, and it lifted them into the air like shrimp in a basket.
When they alighted, Esther looked around for any sign of David, feeling both hopeful and nervous that he’d be here. Maybe she’d been too harsh on him earlier. She’d been scared and confused—and annoyed at herself. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken it out on him. He might convince the captains to listen to her. On the other hand, maybe what had happened between them meant nothing to him. He could get her thrown off the ship. She could trust Dax, who so badly wanted to be a hero for Cally, but she couldn’t tell what David Hawthorne wanted.
On board, they walked down a corridor to a grand plaza that was nearly as big as the entire Catalina. Deck upon deck rose above them, culminating in a sparkling glass atrium. Café tables dotted the edges of the plaza. Real trees planted in massive pots loomed above the tables. Esther stopped short. Wire songbird cages hung from some of the trees, with real, live birds inside. She felt a surreal sense of nostalgia, remembering her father’s garden, where she’d listened to sparrows singing as she played. The birds twittered a chorus to the sinking sun.
Dax tugged on her arm, and they continued across the plaza. A large, fully functional swimming pool occupied one end. The water must have splashed all over the deck during the storm, but someone had already cleaned it up and refilled the pool with clear green water. Who wants to swim in a pool when they live at sea?
People lounged about the plaza, sipping cocktails beneath the trees, sprawling on benches, laughing. Esther didn’t understand how they could be so idle given that the Flotilla had just been through a catastrophic storm. She thought of the workers hanging from ropes down the side of the oil tanker.
Dax led her to a row of glass elevators that zipped up and down the decks, passengers on full display. They joined the line for the lifts behind a petite couple with matching sea-gray hair. Esther gripped Dax’s arm harder to keep him from bouncing up and down on his toes. He was almost as bad as Cally!
When it was their turn to board, Esther felt a bit like jumping up and down too. Real working elevators! She’d played around with the lift mechanisms in the Catalina’s elevator shafts before they’d been repurposed. They were fascinating contraptions. She enjoyed the rushing sensation as the plaza sank beneath her feet.
They stepped onto the fifth level with the elderly couple. Esther felt the whisper of air conditioning on her skin. They crossed plush carpets to a pair of double doors trimmed in gold and bearing the name Lucky Fish Chinese Restaurant.
“My mother says the Chinese food here wasn’t authentic, even when it was a proper cruise,” Dax whispered.
He held open the door for the elderly couple. A young man in a crisp black shirt stood sentry at a small podium inside the entryway. Esther and Dax waited as he checked in the elderly couple.
Dax jiggled his leg up and down.
Esther tried to divert some of his nervous energy. “Did she grow up in China?” she asked. “Your mother?”
“She moved to America when she was a teenager.”
“People on the Catalina used to talk about moving to China,” Esther said. “They don’t have any ash.”
“Or food,” Dax said.
“You’re right. No one gets past the borders anyway.”
“I’d like to go there someday, if they ever let people in again.” Dax’s breathing had slowed somewhat, and he stopped bouncing his leg.
The young guy in black finished with the elderly couple, and they shuffled past him into the restaurant. A straggly hint of a mustache struggled to assert itself on his upper lip.
“Yo, Dax. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Hey Connor. This is . . . my girlfriend, Cally.”
Connor grinned at Esther, all teeth and teenage bravado. “Girlfriend, eh? She makes you look tall.”
“Is it cool if I take her in?”
“Sure thing. Your parents are already inside. Guest Services treating you well?” Connor laughed unpleasantly and mimed a series of obsequious handshakes.
“It’s great. How’s being a waiter?” Dax said.
Connor stopped laughing immediately. “Table eight.”
“I know.”
“Oh, and you’ll have to sign in.” Connor tapped sharply on a big book of names on the podium. As Esther signed Cally’s name, she eyed all the extra paper space that was going unused beside the column of names. Her father would be able to do so much with that. She said a little prayer for him as Dax led her into the restaurant.
The smell of fish oil and incense greeted them. Glasses tinkled lightly. A cellist, the same one from the cabaret, played a simple melody in the background. Round tables draped in scarlet cloths filled the large space. Elaborate engravings lined the walls, gilt shining in the candlelight.
Esther and Dax weaved between the tables. Esther didn’t make eye contact with the assorted diners as she teetered past them in her high-heeled boots. She stayed focused on the task ahead, hoping she wouldn’t forget any of her lines. This had to work.
One table stood apart from the others on a raised platform, where two distinguished-looking men and one wrinkled woman were already seated. Five empty chairs awaited other occupants. The woman could have been Judith in a previous life. She had the same pinched look to her eyebrows, the same severe hairstyle, the same frown. Those must be the captains, though neither Captain Ryan nor the raven-haired man she
’d seen at the cabaret had arrived yet.
Esther and Dax made their way to another table for eight by the far wall. Four of the seats were already occupied. A short, round Chinese woman stood up from the far side of the table.
“Ai-ya! I haven’t seen you for so long, son. You should come to visit your mommy more often. Daddy misses you too!”
Dax’s father looked up from where he had been scratching wrinkled fingers along the scarlet tablecloth. He didn’t smile. Tufts of hair stuck out of his ears like the whiskers on a seal.
“I’ve been working, Mother.” Dax tugged at his hair.
“Working too hard for your family? I was so worried about you during the storm.”
She came around the table to fold Dax into a hug.
“I’m fine, Mother,” Dax said, pulling away with a red face. “This is Es— Cally. She’s my girlfriend.”
“What? A new girlfriend? You should tell me these things.”
Dax’s mother took Esther’s hand in both of hers and kissed her on the cheek. Her face was warm and soft.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Esther said, responding awkwardly to the gesture. They sat, and Esther positioned herself so she could see the dais. She thought about approaching the first three captains before the others arrived. Maybe she could convince a few of them to take her side.
Dax seemed to guess her thoughts. “Not till after they eat,” he whispered. “People are always less agreeable when they’re hungry. Guest Services 101.”
“What are you two lovebirds whispering about?” Dax’s mother demanded. “I’m so happy Desi brought you to meet us, Cally. He is so bad about visiting his mummy. Maybe you will help him remember his family. Have you tried the food here yet?”
Esther shook her head. “No, this is my first time on the Crown . . . Wait, Desi?”
Dax’s face went as red as the tablecloths. “Thanks a lot, Mother. My real name is Desmond. But I go by Dax now, not Desi.”
His mother threw up her hands. “I’m sorry, son. I always forget.”
“Desmond’s a nice name,” Esther offered, suppressing a smile.
Dax cleared his throat theatrically. “Cally is from the Catalina, Mother.”
“The little cruise ship we met a few weeks ago?” his mother asked.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“How sweet.” She patted Esther’s arm.
The other couple at the table turned toward them at the mention of the Catalina. The man, who had a purplish face and lumpy jowls, stuck out a large hand.
“I’m Henry Morrison, and this is my wife, June. You’re from the Catalina, eh? Is it true you’re living at capacity over there?”
He had a loud voice, and the people at the next table looked over.
Esther shook his hand. She was getting better at that.
“Yes. We have over a thousand residents, and it’s not a large ship.”
“Imagine!” June tittered. She wore large jeweled glasses and what looked like real lipstick. “How do you have enough food?”
Esther glanced over at the captains’ dais as she answered. “Well, the sea supplies everything we need; it’s just a matter of collecting it. We have a small speedboat for fishing and seaweed collection. We don’t have anything like your farming and gardening program, though. I wish we had the soil for that.”
“Oh, I’ve never been over to the garden boat myself.” June took a sip from her glass and smiled politely at Esther.
“What’s the energy situation like?” Henry asked. “You can’t have very large fuel reserves.”
“We rely on wind and solar as much as possible,” Esther explained. “We have a good power storage system, so we can collect energy reserves during storms.”
“That’s enough?”
“We get by,” Esther said. “Water’s a problem, as it is for everyone. And we can’t move around much.”
Esther glanced back at the dais. Another captain had joined the group, shaking hands around the table before settling his large, fleshy body into a chair.
“Why is water a problem? We’re at sea,” June said, giggling. She took another sip from her glass. Tiny bubbles floated to its surface.
One sip from her own glass told Esther there was at least some alcohol in the bubbly drink. She set it down and didn’t touch it again. She needed a clear head.
“Not the water itself, but getting the salt out of it.” Esther spoke slowly, wondering if the woman was a little dim. “I work on our desalination system, when I’m not doing engine maintenance.”
“Engine maintenance?” June said blankly. “Doesn’t the crew take care of that?”
“I guess we’re all on the crew. Everyone does what they’re best at to keep the ship afloat. I’m good at mechanics.” Did the woman not realize what it took to keep a ship operating?
“It’s not terribly ladylike,” June said.
Esther had no idea what “ladylike” meant, but fortunately Henry launched into a lengthy monologue on the energy problem. It was clear he didn’t know much about the practicalities of energy storage. Esther responded as best as she could while surveying the room.
Most of the diners appeared to be over fifty years old. They were the old guard, the aristocrats who must have been leisure tourists on the Galaxy ships. Everyone wore formal clothing, making Esther grateful for Marianna’s dress and heels. These people were staid compared to the fancifully dressed crowd at the cabaret performance. She could see why Dax didn’t dine here often.
The table on the dais had filled up. All eight captains had arrived. Apart from the woman who reminded her of an older Judith, the captains were male. Most appeared to be in their sixties and seventies, except for the younger man she’d seen at the cabaret. His raven hair didn’t show any gray. Esther twisted her napkin anxiously under the table but heeded Dax’s advice to stay put until after dinner.
Dax leaned in to whisper details about the captains. “The one with the black hair is Boris. He’s mean, but girls seem to like him. The woman is Veronika. She’s mean too. She’s the captain of the Diamond, where my parents used to live. The fattest one is Philippe. He’s captain of the Mist, but he almost never stays there. All the captains have suites on the Crown.”
“And the one in the middle is Captain Ryan, right?” said Esther. “With the white hair?”
“Yeah, he’s the captain of the Crown and the Galaxy founder. I guess he’s not too bad. He’s real charming, you know?” Dax shrugged.
Captain Ryan’s rich laughter reached them over the murmuring of the diners. He was Esther’s best hope. He seemed so generous and personable.
“Why aren’t any captains of the smaller ships here?” Esther asked. “There are more than eight ships in the Flotilla.”
“The cruise captains are the only ones that matter,” Dax explained. “The others are like middle managers. They don’t sit at the same table.”
“What are you too whispering about now, Desmond?” Dax’s mother leaned in conspiratorially.
“Nothing, Mother.” Dax tugged at his hair.
Then the food arrived on rolling trays pushed by waiters in black collared shirts. For a moment, Esther forgot all about the captains, the Catalina, and even that she was supposed to be pretending to be sixteen years old. The plate before her contained real asparagus. She remembered how her mother used to make her finish a helping of asparagus cut from her father’s garden before she could watch cartoons after dinner on Friday nights. She’d complained until it got cold, and then it had tasted even worse. But after a sixteen-year diet of fish, seaweed, and the occasional canned vegetable, the three asparagus spears were pure heaven. She savored each mouthful, deaf to the conversation around her. When she finished, she was still hungry, but if she hadn’t just spent nearly two weeks with the Galaxy, she’d have called it the best dinner she’d eaten in years.
She was just scooting back in her chair to speak to the captains when someone came up behind her and took away the plate, replacing it with
a second, larger plate.
“Oh, I heard a rumor we’d have a special main course today,” June said, picking up her fork eagerly.
“Main course?” Esther inspected the new plate, wondering what fish would produce fillets that looked that brown.
“Yessiree, we’ve killed the fatted calf for this one,” Henry boomed.
Calf? Could this round, thick portion in front of her be real beef? She whispered the question to Dax.
“Yeah, it’s beef,” he said. “It’s rare, even for the captains, to kill one of the cows. It’s a special occasion, though.”
He grinned and picked up the knife beside his plate. Esther imitated his movements. She rarely used a knife to eat, what with all the fish. Last time she’d eaten steak, her dad had still been cutting her meat for her.
Esther wanted to cry at the first bite. She chewed for a long time, living through the moment a dozen times over. She didn’t know whether to eat the rest of the steak quickly or savor it. She settled for cutting quickly and forking the bites into her mouth so she could prolong that earthy taste for as long as possible. It tasted of iron and blood. It was a solid taste, making her think again of land.
When the creamy, cold dessert arrived, she didn’t want to erase the lingering taste of beef from her mouth. She simply looked at the quivering substance on her plate.
“You don’t like panna cotta?” June said.
“Huh?” Esther looked up.
June was staring at her. Everyone else at the table had finished eating. “Your panna cotta,” June prompted. “You don’t like it?”
“Oh, no, sorry, I do.”
Esther ate the shockingly sweet dessert quickly, afraid the captains would leave the table before she could talk to them. She clawed her way through the fog the food had created in her mind—far worse than any whiskey. She saw why people could just ignore their problems on the Crown with food like that!
Fortunately, the captains lingered over dessert. They had just opened a new bottle of the bubbly alcohol.
“Would you excuse me for a moment?”
Esther didn’t give her dinner companions time to react. She stood and strode toward the dais. She didn’t look around, hoping no one would step into her path. She tripped over her boots, catching herself before she fell, and felt a sting in her heel.