Full Vessels

by Brian Blose

  Chapter 14 – Hess

  As they exited the conference room, they encountered a press of bodies against the windows once more. Hess slipped past the crowd to exit the hotel's main doors and turned his face upward to stare with everyone else. The light of day shone clear and bright everywhere but for the plume of gray rising from the mountain and stretching downwind like a hazy streak of dust on the heavens.

  “We might wanna check on our boat,” Erik said.

  Rather than wait for the stables to saddle a horse for them, they went by foot, skipping the zigzagging roads to jog along steep animal trails. Their haste ended after Hess broke a leg in a concealed hole. Erik continued forward more cautiously, leaving Hess to catch up after he healed.

  They rejoined the road when it became obvious whatever their shortcut saved them in distance it cost them in time. Over an hour after their departure, they came into view of the harbor and stumbled to a halt. The schooner and yacht were gone. More, half the fishing boats from the day before were missing.

  Erik scowled at the sight before them. “Now what?”

  “We take the steamship.”

  “You talkin 'bout the one fresh outta coal?”

  Hess shrugged. “We'll have to fix that. Until then, at least we know no one else will be stealing our ship.”

  “You expect us to row a fucking tugboat?”

  “Don't be an ass. We'll burn wood. Or steal coal.” Hess turned in a slow circle. “We'll need to stage our fuel somewhere.”

  “Leave that to me,” Erik said.

  “It needs to be -”

  “Fuck, Hess, you think you know better than me how to hide shit? Maybe we're tied with swords, but no one's got smuggling on me. I've been hiding all sorta nefarious doings from the people for as long as I've been alive. Storing some wood ain't nothing compared to concealing a room full of screaming school kids.”

  “Don't hurt anyone.”

  “Whole island's doomed, dip-shit.”

  “Erik . . . .”

  “I ain't risking my skin for the sake of giving one of the pathetic creatures a few extra days. So I'm gonna do what I gotta do. If it makes you feel better, there ain't time for the usual games. Now while I acquire us a hidey hole, what you gonna do for the good of the cause?”

  “I'll scout some targets.” Hess nodded towards the tugboat. “After I swim out to do an inventory.”

  They separated. Hess jogged towards one of the public access piers while Erik sauntered in the opposite direction. At the end of the pier, Hess stowed his shirt and shoes in an unoccupied rowboat before diving into the water. He dolphin kicked several times to get some distance before surfacing, then transitioned into a sidestroke, left side down. He added a scissor kick and lost himself in the repetitive movement.

  His path looped out into the harbor a considerable distance before turning back in to approach the steamship from an angle that concealed him from the shore. The swim took close to half an hour. At its end, he climbed the hemp netting that served as a bumper and rolled over the side to squat on the deck.

  After a quick scan of his surroundings, he slipped down the stair to the engine room. It was of a simple single-cylinder design. Hess identified the controls, checked that everything was properly greased, and moved on to the boiler room. He snorted at what his inventory revealed. Rolled iron and rivets. While well maintained, the entire apparatus lacked even the pretense of efficiency.

  He studied the size of the firebox and the pile of leftover coal. Enough probably remained to bring the ship up to temperature, but it would never get anywhere without additional fuel. Hess checked the water level by opening the three valves. The lowest of them released a stream of water. That was good. If the water was below the bottom valve, that would indicate a critically low level of water in the boiler. The middle valve did nothing when he opened it. The tank needed water added until the water level rose above the second valve. The third valve was there to indicate when there was too much water in the system for safe operation.

  The replenishment pump used hand power and had a length of heavy rubber tubing extending from it. Hess tasted some of the water still in the pump mechanism. Mingled with the tang of metal was a blast of salt. Excellent. They wouldn't have to waste time figuring out how to get fresh water to the ship; they could just pump straight from the sea. It was the sole advantage the primitive steam engine design had offered so far.

  Back top side, Hess squatted in the door frame and studied the guard shack at the base of the pier. It held one guard who sat with his feet up while a second guard stood nearby. He watched long enough to see them rotate positions. They each carried a musket and wore a saber at the hip.

  Then Hess dove back into the water and swam back to where he had left his clothes. After dressing, he walked back up the harbor road to tour the streets of the town, noting locations with stacked wood as he went. He returned to his room that evening to sketch out his plans. He intended to hit the targets first who were least likely to notice their losses. There were several houses on the outskirts of town that aged their wood in backyard lean-tos. He should be able to raid those without causing a stir among the locals.

  He had also noticed that the saltpeter refinery spewed black clouds from corroded iron stacks, which meant at least one business still had coal to burn. Robbing the refinery of a bulky raw product might be more trouble than it was worth, depending on how successful their wood collection was.

  Before he worried about any of that, he needed to figure out how he was going to transport tons of solid fuel. While the hotel stable rented horses and even coaches, they didn't have any freight wagons available.

  A knock interrupted his thoughts. Hess cracked open the door on a smiling Erik. “Got us a nice deal on a vacation home, honey. Just cost us one old recluse. Guy was nice enough to contribute a house, a barn, and a lot of pre-split wood. A real sweetheart. Shame someone put an axe in his melon. Anyway, we're off to a good start.”

  Hess opened his door further to allow Erik in. “Our major unsolved problem is transportation. We need to move lots of fuel.”

  “Chillax, amigo, we scored probably half a ton of wood already. When we're ready to make our big move, we steal a wagon and steam out of that harbor. While carefully avoiding the infamous reef, of course.”

  “Half a ton of wood doesn't get us out of the harbor. I'm estimating we'd need between five and ten tons of coal to get us to a safe distance. If we substitute wood for coal, that doubles the fuel requirements.”

  “What's with the negativity, Hessie? Things go south, we steal a fucking rowboat. So what if we die of exposure a few times?”

  “And where do you think we'll wash up when the boat inevitably capsizes? I'm thinking the answer to that is some place covered with molten lava.”

  Erik scowled. “Then we find some wheels. I'll check the stables.”

  “They don't have wagons.”

  “Then build a fucking travois! A horse can carry over two hundred pounds without a problem; lash together a couple poles and you up that to half a ton. Then on game day we acquire a freight wagon to move things from our hidey hole to the ship all speedy like. This ain't rocket science.”

  Hess sat straighter. “That could work. Of course, we'd be leaving ruts in the road to guide the people directly to our staging area.”

  “So what if a few nosy Nellies need stabbing. I got my saber.”

  “Better idea,” Hess said. “We make a sign to advertise we have wood for sale.”

  “Uh, that sounds like a worse idea. We're collecting, not selling.”

  “No one will buy at our prices. Even if they did, we'll make it profitable enough that we could turn around and purchase an equal amount of coal. Everyone will assume we're clueless businessmen dragging the same load of wood around town. When we become a joke, no one will take us serious.”

  Erik shrugged. “Whatever. Just keep your fucking nerve. I don't got the patience to manage your feelings.”

  “Can
you arrange to rent two horses for tomorrow afternoon? I'll rig up the hardware. We'll do four trips each the first day, then I need to identify additional targets.”

  Hess slipped outside and procured poles, planks, rope, and canvas tarp from the unguarded warehouse of the general store and made a sign using materials from the conference room. Then he assembled everything and hid it behind a road-side hedge. He ate a late dinner, collapsed into bed, and woke early the next day to plan the order of their robberies.

  At nine o'clock, he entered the conference room to hear Elza's presentation.

  Chapter 15 – Hess

  Elza spoke with the calm precision that was her hallmark. “No doubt you expect something profound from me. Maybe something pretentious or esoteric. I would say that I hate to disappoint, but in truth I'm not overly concerned with your opinions.

  “For the majority of my existence, I discharged my duties through intellectual studies. I have a talent for analysis and I put it to use on every topic of study I encountered. On occasion, I have even managed to advance beyond what the people have discovered.

  “I always rationalized that while the Creator almost certainly did not send me into the worlds to practice the scientific method, my studies were useful in determining the limit of what the people were capable of learning about the created universe. Then Jerome revealed our semi-divine natures and I realized that, far from being an ideal Observer, I was horribly deficient.

  “My most profound insight is not so much about the worlds as it is about our place in it. We were never meant to be apathetic watchers. We entered into Our creation to interact with it. When feeling less charitable, I liken this to cosmic masturbation. We create, play, destroy, and start the cycle over again.

  “Observer is the wrong title for us. We should be called Experiencers. Because that is our purpose. To be people for a time. All the times I followed my sense of duty I failed at my true mission. Conversely, all the times I violated the divine command were justified.”

  Elza drummed her fingers on the table. “And now I suppose I must criticize the flaws of my own argument or risk being accused of unfairness. There were no informal logical fallacies, because I know better. However, I did make assumptions.

  “My most questionable assumption: generalizing from my mind to that of the Creator's. I skirt the edges of arguing from personal incredulity, saved by the fact that there are no viable alternative hypotheses. Some evidence that the Creator intends us to experience rather than observe exists in the circumstances of our incarnations. Hess has never been a woman. Given his strict heterosexual orientation, it becomes obvious that the Creator intended to humor that preference.

  “And Drake. Sometime after Iteration ten, he became a perpetual outcast in the social order. Whatever group occupied the position of most disadvantaged within the social structure became his by default. Once I decided it could not be coincidence, I suspected the Creator used Drake to study a particular phenomenon. Until last Iteration, when I overheard him telling Jerome that being a part of the out group brought with it the advantage of community. In all the times I have heard Drake complain about his circumstances, I never heard something as authentic as that one off-hand admission.

  “Another piece of evidence is the existence of the Church of the Demiurge. I am convinced that the schism among us caused competing desires that the Creator could not resolve. Several of you desired to punish rogue Observers. Another questioned the inherent moral quality of the Creator. The result was the perverse religion that Ingrid and Erik learned to hate.”

  “The fuck,” Erik said. “Rich people got better community than anyone. Why wouldn't Drake be sent into the country club class if he wants friends so bad?”

  Heads turned to Drake. He shrank in on himself.

  “I think I understand,” Jerome said. “The upper class compete. Sometimes it is friendly; often it is only a veneer of civility that makes it appear that way. Those on the outside form tight-knit communities where people don't judge one another so quickly. If any of you have been listening during these meetings, what conversation we have tends to be combative. We, the privileged Observers living among the people, are snobs by virtue of our positions. The downtrodden stick together.”

  Erik rolled his eyes. “Aw, baby need a blankie? Grow the fuck up, Drake. You're a disgrace to the rest of us.”

  Drake slammed a fist onto the table. “I never said any of that! All of you stop putting words in my mouth! You know why I got the shit jobs so many times? Cause I can handle it! I been through more than any of you know.”

  “Please, cupcake. I've faced inquisitions.”

  “No insults,” Greg muttered.

  Drake glared at Elza. “Leave me out of this.”

  “Let's talk about you instead,” Griff said. “We get Hess don't like cock, but what's your reason for being a woman?”

  Elza hesitated. “Because I would do anything for Hess.”

  “Except, you know, live,” Erik said.

  Ingrid leaned forward. “I refuse to believe the Creator has frivolous goals. While I agree with your low opinion of some of our coworkers, that doesn't provide us any additional insights. The Creator is not just the twelve of us. We are more than employees but less than the sum total.”

  In the silence that followed, Drake stood. “Are we done? Good.”

  Greg cleared his throat as the door slammed shut behind their departed colleague. “If there are no other questions, then we appear to be taking a fifteen minute break. It is my sincere hope the Creator finds more value in our meetings than I do.”

  Chapter 16 – Elza / Iteration 1

  Her father gestured and Elza approached. As she took his hand, she noticed his skin felt cool even in the heat of the day – a fact that seemed even more ominous than his inability to stand these past few days.

  “My Elza,” he said.

  “Yes, papa.”

  “I am sorry.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “For what?”

  A coughing fit interrupted whatever he was about to say. When it passed, her father had to recline on the hammock she had constructed for him. “I die soon.”

  Elza nodded. Age had robbed all vitality from him.

  “I worry. You need a man.”

  “Of all the women who have ever lived, I need a man the least.”

  A pleased smile lit his face. “Clever Elza. Strong Elza. Still . . . .”

  “I don't need a man, papa. And I don't want one giving me orders.”

  His smile faded. “Yes, yes. But it's not good to be alone. Not a woman, not a man, not anyone.” The speech winded him, and he had to stop. Elza caressed the back of his hand.

  “I'll be fine, papa. You were the only man I ever needed in my life.”

  His eyes grew sad. “I loved you too much. No love left for other men.”

  “That's not how the world works, papa.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Trust me, papa. I have been watching for many years now.”

  He closed his eyes. “Tell me about the giants of the sea.”

  Elza smiled down at her father. “There are no giants of the sea making waves when they jump to grab the moon. It is a silly idea. The waves come all the time, not just when the moon is in the sky. The giants don't cause the tides either. That is the moon pulling on the water. I don't know how it works, but it does. That's the only thing that makes any sense.”

  She paused, then placed her fingers alongside his neck to search for a heartbeat that was no longer there. Elza bent over to kiss his forehead. “You don't have to worry about me. I serve the Creator of the world and nothing can harm me. I promise to remember you. Goodbye, papa.”

  Elza arranged her father's body for the next person to find it, picked up the pack she kept prepared for this moment, and abandoned the tribe of her youth. There was an entire world for her to study.

  Chapter 17 – Hess

  During the recess someone had found and convinced Drake to return to the meeting. He s
at away from the table, arms folded and a dour expression on his face. Like everyone else, he looked to the man sitting tall at the table.

  Erik wore a smile that threatened to curl into a snarl as he made eye contact with each of them in turn. “None of y'all got a clue what I'm about. You have notions that I'm nutty in the noggin. That I struggle with anger issues and shit like that.

  “Wrong. I got mountains of self-control. I'm cool as snow, yo. My actions are a hundred and eleven percent justified, and I'll prove it. Look around. Boring ass conference room, right? What's beyond that? Old-timey hotel still bragging about running water. An island sitting around an angry fucking volcano. A sea. A whole world. A whole fucking universe.

  “You see, dumb asses, the Creator don't do half measures. This place exists a single week. There's hardly any reason to try. Yet we find ourselves in a complex, self-consistent universe. That's beauty. Every moment is a miracle. A real deal miracle.

  “The pathetic creatures don't get that. Suicides were the thing that opened my eyes. I couldn't fathom why anything would want to punch the clock. I mean, I used to feel sorry for the bastards' short lives and I didn't even like 'em. So anyways, people were looking at their options and voting no on proposition existence.

  “I'll admit, I went a teensy bit extreme at first. Then I got the idea of a lifetime. Started on a methodology I kept up until last Iteration. I abduct someone and do the torture bit until they ask me, without prompting, to kill them. Badabing, badaboom, I'm done. Just gotta ask one question and I'm dumping a body somewhere.

  “The things I learned were grade A observation. Pampered people put up less of a fight than the downtrodden. What the fuck, right? I mean, you'd expect them to have more to live for and all that. Nope. And age does weird shit. If you graph out quickness to embrace oblivion, with age as the independent variable, it looks like a sine wave. Kids are fighters. Teenagers got a death wish. Adults wanna live. Old fucks are ready to go.

  “Course, that's averaging out a lot of distinct individuals. I seen some interesting shit. Caused a lot of interesting shit, to tell it straight. That graph, though, really got me thinking. It's not a straight line up or down. So the big factor's gotta be life stage. Here's how I reckon the facts.