by Jordan Rivet
“Wait, let’s sit here,” Esther said.
She pulled Zoe into a chair near the door. Anita followed, her cheeks still flushed from their run through the ship.
“Why?” Zoe said. “What’s the matter with our usual . . . ? Ah.”
David turned over a chart in one sweeping motion. He hadn’t noticed them.
Esther pulled her dark hair down over the side of her face. It reached her shoulders now. She put her elbows on the table, removed them, then put one down again, banging it painfully on the ruptured wood. Zoe chuckled, pulled out her pocketknife, and began sharpening it on the stone she kept tucked in her tunic pocket.
“Isn’t it your turn to grab the drinks, Esther?” she said, a sly grin flitting across her face.
“But—”
“Yeah, it’s definitely your turn,” Anita said, eyes widening a little too innocently.
Esther glared at them and stood. She tried to cross the room without drawing attention to herself, cursing her heavy boots. She skirted around a table where a pair of Galaxians leaned together, deep in conversation. They fell quiet when Esther passed. It was better than having them ambush her to complain about the food or something.
She retrieved an armful of mismatched plastic containers from behind the bar. Water was readily available now that she had repaired the desalination system, and they liked to drink extra whenever they hung out now. It was better than alcohol. Esther didn’t dare follow that train of thought. She pretended not to see David as she filled the containers from the large water jug. She didn’t want him to think she had come here to see him.
Back at their table, Esther handed a sports water bottle to Zoe and an old applesauce jar to Anita, both full of pure water. She sat and peeked at David over the top of her battered milk jug. He was still engrossed in his charts. She longed to tell him about her discovery. At the same time somehow, she wished he wasn’t here. Ugh, why is he so confusing?
Anita nudged Zoe, who barked a laugh. “Trying to get his attention by hiding from him?” Zoe asked.
“Mmm.” Esther ignored the question.
David was fiddling with the fancy dive watch on his wrist. He wore a cream cable-knit sweater, which had almost become his uniform.
“That sweater’s so impractical. What if he has to carry something with sharp edges?” she muttered. “It’ll get ruined, and then someone will have to go through the trouble of picking it apart to make something new.”
“Don’t know why you care,” Zoe said. “It’s not like you’ll be doing it for him.”
“Just look at him. He doesn’t fit in on the Catalina,” Esther said. “Everything about him screams, I’m better than everyone. Why is he even here?”
David switched to a different map and leaned over it. He adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his hair.
“You’re shit scared he’s going to leave,” Zoe said. She had put down her whetstone and was turning the blade over in her hands. “Don’t look at me like that, Esther.”
“It’s not about him,” Esther said. “I don’t want you guys to go. When we reach the Amsterdam and you head off—”
“Don’t change the subject. After what happened between you two . . .”
“It was nothing.”
Esther examined her fingernails and dug out some of the grease that seemed to be perpetually stuck in them. She thought about the night she had spent with David on the Galaxy Mist, about how he had made her feel. She didn’t know whether it had meant anything to him, and she didn’t want to let on that it had meant something to her. Especially when she wasn’t sure what she wanted from him now. It had been two months since that night, but it felt like a lifetime.
“It obviously wasn’t nothing,” Zoe said. “Why else would you spend half your time hiding from him and the other half staring at him like a baby seal when you think no one’s looking? He abandoned the Galaxy to help you, and now he lurks around the Lounge all the time in case you might be here. You guys clearly have some weird thing going on. My only question is, why are you not pushing him up against the cylinders in the engine room every chance you get?”
“I’m not sixteen, okay?”
Zoe snorted. “It might do you good to follow Cally’s lead for once. So, what is it? You’re afraid to cross some sort of picket line? That’s been done, my friend.”
Esther’s gaze drifted back across the room to that white-blond shock of hair. David turned the dive watch on his wrist again. Something twisted in her stomach. She wasn’t even sure he had helped to rescue the Catalina because of her. He seemed to have his own reasons. It was frustrating that he made her feel so disoriented. It was easier to deny her feelings any power, to hide away in her work, and that’s mostly what she had been doing lately.
“It’s not that simple,” Esther said finally. “Hawthorne was all about the spin on the Galaxy, and I’m not sure if I can trust him.”
“You were pretty chummy back on the Lucinda.”
“It’s complicated.” Her eyes followed the lines in the dark wood table.
Zoe pointed her knife accusingly at Esther. “You’re afraid he doesn’t like you!”
“That is not what I said.”
“Yeah, but I get it now. You’re used to figuring out mechanical cut-and-dried situations,” Zoe said. “You don’t want to guess his feelings wrong, so you’re pretending you don’t care.”
“It’s okay to care, Esther,” Anita said quietly.
“He’ll probably be leaving the Catalina soon anyway,” Esther said. “He spends enough time on the Lucinda already.”
David had taken ownership of the sleek patrol ship they’d commandeered from the Galaxy Flotilla together. Now he was keen to learn its functions inside out and outfit it so he could sail anywhere—even to land.
Once, he had asked her to go with him. She remembered his exact words: I’m not really asking you along because I need a mechanic. I’ve kind of thrown my lot in with you, Esther. I want to have you around.
She had put him off then, insisting that she wanted to get her feet firmly on deck before making any decisions. But he hadn’t asked again, and he was proceeding with his preparations, apparently without her. Esther wished she didn’t care where he went. He was going to leave, and she should forget about him.
“The fact that he’s here shows he’s unpredictable,” Zoe said. “I wouldn’t write him off just yet.”
“Write who off?” said a smooth voice right behind them.
Esther and Anita bolted upright. Zoe’s pocketknife clattered to the floor. David stood over them, straight backed and smirking.
“Dirk.” Esther gulped. “Dirk’s trying to take over the council. We think he and Judith make a good team.”
Zoe rolled her eyes as she bent to retrieve her knife.
“You haven’t seemed that interested in ship politics lately, Esther,” David said. “I’ve barely seen you.”
He stood a little too close, forcing Esther to quell the confusing tangle of feelings that rose in her chest.
“I’ve been working,” she said.
“We were just celebrating actually,” Zoe said. “Esther finished her big algae project—and it works! She’s all set to change this messed-up watery world of ours.”
“Really?” David said. “The one that makes biofuel without using chemicals? Reggie was telling me about it.”
Esther nodded. She was only just starting to process the implications now that her prototype worked. David made the jump a lot faster.
“Everyone will want this technology.”
“Yeah,” Esther said. “It’ll make a big difference as soon as I get a chance to share it with the other floating communities.”
Spreading the technology would take time, but they were close to their annual meet-up with the Amsterdam Coalition. The news would spread from there.
“Share it? Esther, you’ve got to think more strategically.” David slid into a chair between Zoe and Anita and faced Esther across the table. “We’ll be docking
with the Amsterdam for trade in a few weeks, right? Why not sell the technology to the highest bidder? You could set the Catalina up for years.”
“I’m just going to give it to them,” Esther said. “It’ll already make our lives exponentially better. What more do we need?”
“You’d be wasting a huge opportunity to help everyone,” David said. “No ship will last forever, no matter how well you maintain it. The way things fall apart, we need all the resources we can get. Let me arrange it for you. We can get some serious buzz going around the Amsterdam.”
Zoe was nodding in agreement, but Esther wasn’t so sure. “Aren’t you leaving on the Lucinda after we meet with the Amsterdam?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing yet.” David rolled his shoulders impatiently. “The point is, you shouldn’t just give the technology away to anyone who wants it. This could be the perfect opportunity to make some powerful friends for the Catalina. You certainly need some friends after we pissed off the Galaxy so spectacularly.”
Esther hesitated. She didn’t particularly like the idea, but she would do anything to protect the Catalina.
“What exactly would we sell?” she asked. “My prototype? The floorboards with the separator designs scratched into them?”
“All of it.” David leaned forward, and for a moment Esther thought he was going to take her hand. “We could even throw in your expert tutelage. You could show the mechanics of the winning bidder how to build the system and adapt it to their needs. You’re capable of that, right?”
“Of course,” Esther said. How did he manage to be both condescending and complimentary in the same breath?
“Great. So we sell your designs and your time in exchange for supplies that’ll last for years and alliances that’ll last decades.”
“I’m not sure about this,” Esther said. She hadn’t seen David this animated since the escape on the Lucinda, but the idea made her nervous. “I haven’t even tested the fuel on the main engines yet. Besides, we’re all trying to survive in this rusted-up world. Why make it about profit?”
“Because we have to,” David said. “Like it or not, people are forming bigger and bigger coalitions, and that means commercial activity. The politics that go along with it are becoming more sophisticated.”
“I don’t want to get into all that.”
Esther had enough of politicking on the Galaxy Flotilla to last her awhile.
“At least think it over,” David said. “We still have almost two weeks until we reach the Amsterdam.”
“Wait. What about Judith and Dirk, our favorite power couple?” Zoe said.
“She’s right,” Esther said. “We’ll have to clear it with the council. I can ask my dad if he’ll get me into the next meeting.”
“May I come along when you talk to them?” David asked. “I’ve been wanting to attend a council meeting.”
“I can’t make any promises.” Her father may be back on the council, but he wasn’t in charge yet.
“Understood,” David said. His mouth lifted in his enigmatic smile.
Salt, he was handsome. Why couldn’t she stop staring at that smile?
Zoe cleared her throat. “Seriously, guys, we’re supposed to be celebrating. Grab yourself a drink and join us, Hawthorne.”
“All right. If Esther doesn’t mind.”
He stood up.
“Why would I mind?”
He grinned. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”
“Have not. I’ve been working . . .” Esther buried her face in her water carton.
David laughed and went to get a bottle for himself.
“Tell him how much you like him, Esther,” Anita said as soon as David left the table.
“Anita!” Zoe shrieked.
“I don’t like him.”
“Of course you do,” Zoe said. “Listen to the woman when she speaks, Esther! Or I could tell him you want to—”
“Shh,” Esther hissed. “He’s coming back. Don’t you dare say a word!”
Zoe and Anita were shaking with laughter when David returned with a tall plastic bottle. A label about something artisanal was still visible on its side. Esther’s face felt hot, and she refused to look at her friends. She had no choice but to meet David’s eyes. He smiled.
“So . . .” She cleared her throat. “I should really get back to work. I need to run some tests on the oil before we build the big separator for the main engines.”
“You just got the prototype to work,” David said. “That’s no small feat. Why don’t you take the night off?”
“Yeah, seriously, Esther,” Zoe said, finally suppressing her laughter. “You’re no fun when you’re working.”
The afternoon shift had ended, and people were beginning to return to the Mermaid Lounge. Sunlight slanted through the windows and cast golden patches across the threadbare carpet. The chatter of voices rose around the room. It would be nice to be around people after she had been drowning herself in her work for so long.
“I promise not to talk business if you stay,” David said.
She supposed she could start on the fuel tests tomorrow. And if David wanted her around . . . He was looking directly at her, his gaze unwavering.
“Fine, I’ll stay for a bit,” Esther said. She buried her face in her water jug again.
Chapter 3—Leaders
A week later Esther walked to the council meeting with her father, Simon. There was a bustle in the corridors typical of the hour after the shift change. People greeted them enthusiastically as they passed. Public opinion had warmed to Simon again during the water crisis. He had kept everyone calm until Esther and the others brought help on the Lucinda. Now he was standing straighter and moving with a greater sense of purpose than Esther had seen in years.
“How’s the progress, Esther?” Simon asked. He’d gotten a haircut recently, and he wore his green scarf loose around his neck.
“I’m almost finished building the big separator based on my prototype,” she said. “So far the biofuel is working out. I’ve rigged it so the extracted oil will go straight into the refinery some of the guys from the Galaxy helped me set up. I should be ready to fire up the big engines by the end of the week. I want to finish before Judith has a chance to trade away all of this year’s salvage.”
“That’s great,” Simon said. “I didn’t realize things were so far along. You could visit me more often.”
Esther cringed. Technically, she still lived with her father, but she had been staying in the bowling alley or in the Mermaid Lounge with her friends more often than not.
“I mean to,” she said. “You’ve been busy, though.”
Esther was glad her father was back on the council. It was good for him to be occupied, and it helped to loosen the chokehold Judith had enjoyed for years. But that wasn’t the only reason she had been spending time away from him.
“Are you sure this isn’t about Penelope?”
“That would be childish,” Esther muttered.
“You’ve barely said two words to her in the last month. And I know you’ve been sleeping in your workroom. You should come home. Get to know her a little better.”
Simon had taken his relationship with their neighbor public after Esther’s return from the Galaxy. He’d said something about the crisis making him think about how short life was, as if any of them needed that reminder. Penelope Newton, the woman Esther had always thought had a few screws loose, now had her father’s attention and public affection.
“You two need your space,” Esther said.
She banged on the door to the bridge and pushed it open before her father could answer.
The bridge stretched the full width of the ship. Rows of computer consoles occupied the room, though most had been silent for years. The engine control room in the bowels of the ship was also shut most of the time, unless they needed to move in an emergency. The bridge itself was Judith’s headquarters. She and Manny, her second-in-command, ruled the ship from here while the Catalina d
rifted. The only other person who worked here was a morose woman named Ren, who still wore her faded officer’s uniform from her early days as a navigator employed by the cruise line.
The floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the bridge showed a solid blue sky. Judith stood silhouetted against it with her hands on her hips. Her ash-blond hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, her body all angles and edges. She looked annoyed as usual.
Most of the council had already assembled. Serving on the council was a rotating duty, one that was supposed to be shared equally amongst all the adults on the Catalina. In recent years people had grown apathetic, and the council had fallen into a pattern: Judith chaired the meetings, and everyone pretty much agreed with what she said.
But the encounter with the Galaxy Flotilla had shaken things up. Suddenly, Judith didn’t have quite as much control as she wanted. Dirk was the instigator of most of her troubles. As soon as he learned about the council’s structure, he had insisted on joining immediately as the representative for the former Galaxians.
Dirk leaned against the foremost console, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. He was a big man, in his fifties, with coal-dark skin and deep worry lines in his forehead. He still wore the coveralls that had been his work uniform on the Galaxy Flotilla’s oil tanker, but he had unbuttoned the top part and tied it around his waist, revealing a thin black T-shirt straining over his muscles.
The man talking to Dirk was slightly younger but nearly as large. He had thick curly hair with hints of gray, and three-day stubble on his chin. Reggie headed up the hull repair crew on the Catalina. He was one of Esther’s good friends and was popular with most people on the ship. His turn on the council had begun a month ago. He got along well with Dirk, and they had come to represent the hard labor crews. The friendship between Reggie and Dirk was where the fractures in the Catalina’s community had really begun to appear.
An elderly woman with a steel-gray bun sat in a rolling chair from one of the computer consoles. Mrs. Cordova led a faction of her own: her large and influential family. There had been a Cordova family reunion on the original Catalina cruise, so after the disaster the whole clan had been marooned together. Over the years they had added an entire third generation. Mrs. Cordova, the matriarch, had extended her term on the council by volunteering to take her son-in-law’s place. One of her daughters was up for the council next, and everyone assumed that Mrs. Cordova would be filling in for her too.