Grigory's Gadget

by E. A. Hennessy

  “You have been given permission by the captain to assist me in the kitchen.” Pavel stood beside Lilia and began cutting strips of meat. Lilia eyed his hands warily.

  “I hope this isn't rude to ask,” she said, staring at his missing fingers. “But you didn't lose…those aren't from…”

  Pavel looked at his hands and laughed. “From cutting meat? Vozh be good, of course not!” Pavel put down the knife and pointed to his left hand, where he lacked his pinky and ring finger.

  “Do you want the interesting story or the embarrassing truth?”

  “Both,” Lilia replied with a shrug and a smile. Pavel chuckled.

  “The story I like to tell,” Pavel said, “is that I lost these two fingers by wrestling a Gibel Crab while vacationing on the Isle of Pokot in the Strazny Ocean. My skill and bravery earned me the adoration of everyone on the island, especially the ladies.” Pavel winked then guffawed. “But, sadly, that is not the truth. The truth is, I was young, stupid, rash, and clumsy. I was a new recruit in the Starzapad Navy, learning to use a sword for the first time. My reflexes and instincts were very poor, and, well—” He made a slashing motion across his left hand, accompanied by a swooshing noise. Lilia grimaced.

  “Don't worry,” Pavel assured her. “I've come a long way since then.”

  “Did you say the Starzapad Navy?” she asked. Pavel nodded.

  “And a fierce navy it is,” he said, his tone dark. “And a fiercer army. You and your friends are lucky to be leaving Morozhia now before you got trapped in this war. I'd even say you're lucky we grabbed you off that passenger ship. War creates a lot of gray areas, diplomatically speaking.”

  Lilia gazed into the pot, still stirring, thoughts spinning in her head. Pavel patted her on the shoulder.

  “Ah, but this hand,” he said, his tone lightening. “This injury is a mark of pride for me. Proof of loyalty and camaraderie. You see, I was taken into custody, questioned about my dear captain. They poked and prodded and cut off the top half of this finger.” Pavel held up his right hand, wiggling the stump of his middle finger. “My own fault, really. I presented them with this finger one too many times.”

  “How did you escape?” Lilia asked, feeling slightly nauseated. She'd never had a strong stomach for gore.

  “The brave captain rescued me,” Pavel said. “Burst in with the crew, pistols waving, and got me out. That was back in the day before the world got anxious and posted armed guards at every door and window.”

  “Now that sounds more like the stories I've read in my books,” Lilia said with a small grin.

  “Oh, we've got the stories,” Pavel said. “Sometimes they seem few and far between, but they more than make up for the mundane interim.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  That night, Anya lay awake in her hammock, restless. The others had fallen asleep quickly especially Demyan and Nikolai who were sore from swordplay. Practicing with swords had the opposite effect on Anya. She could hardly bear to put her sword down at the end of the day; fire raced through her veins. While they ate dinner, Anya bounced one leg repeatedly, fidgeting with her fork once she had finished her food. When her friends decided to call it a night, Anya conceded, grumbling.

  So there she lay, staring out the porthole across the hall at the sparkling silver ocean. Frost crept in from the edges of the glass, creating a frame of sorts. Once the sun had gone down, the bitter chill returned, slowly refreezing everything that had thawed.

  With a huff, Anya stood and grabbed her coat and gloves. As she left the cabin, she first turned toward the stairway then stopped. I've seen the deck, but not much down here. She turned and headed down the hallway.

  Every few feet there was another doorway that led to rooms filled with sleeping pirates. One was lit by a lone candle. Next to it, Ira lay in her hammock, eyes closed, an open book hugged to her chest. Anya tried to read the title, but it was obscured by the woman’s hands.

  Anya turned a corner at what she believed was the stern of the ship and paused at a door. She peered through the window in the door and saw a room with giant floor to ceiling windows at its rear. She tried the door: locked. Dim candlelight filled the room with a warm glow. Anya could make out maps and parchment on a large oaken table. She heard whispers inside, but couldn't see who was speaking or hear what they were saying.

  Anya continued on, following the hall which turned to head toward the bow. She tripped over a pile of cannon balls stacked next to a cannon. She leaned against the wall as she rubbed her foot, squinting to see down the dark hallway. No candles or sconces were lit on this side of the ship. She could hear pirates snoring in their cabins.

  Partway down the hall, Anya found the stairs that must have led to the boilers and cargo. Warm, foul-smelling air drifted up, convincing Anya to move on without exploring that lower level.

  Markedly bored below deck, Anya climbed the stairs to the saloon. The room was empty, lit by two small sconces on the back wall. The air still smelled of ale and salty stew. Anya bundled up in her coat, lifted her hood, and headed outside.

  The Ocean's Legend was passing through the Starzapad Strait. Jagged land masses rose up, Morozhia to the north and Starzapad to the south, separated by the sparkling gray water. Anya watched through the shrouds as the hills rolled slowly by, marked by clusters of light where small towns resided.

  Anya paced the deck, trying to find the best view of either continent. No matter where she stood, ropes, pulleys, masts, and sails blocked her view. As Anya looked through a gap in the shrouds, she grinned. She grabbed the rigging, hoisting herself up to stand on the ship's railing.

  The waves below were a moving, mottled mix of black and silver, crashing lightly on the ship's hull. Anya steadied herself, gripping the rigging with both hands. Her right foot slipped on the icy railing, sending her twirling into the ropes of the shrouds. She reached for the shrouds with both hands, her heart racing. Slowly, she lifted her right foot to rest on a rope then did the same with her left. The shrouds were notably less slick than the wooden deck.

  Anya tested the sturdiness of the rope beneath her feet then tugged at the ropes in her hands. She peered over her shoulder, letting go of the ropes with her left hand. Slowly, carefully, she pivoted to look out at the ocean. With a satisfied sigh, Anya leaned back into the shrouds and relaxed.

  “Fancy yourself a rigging monkey?”

  Anya grabbed the ropes tightly and turned around. Alexi stood by the pilot house, watching.

  “Excuse me?” Anya replied. Alexi laughed and walked down to the main deck.

  “It’s a nautical term, not an insult,” he said. “It's what I am.”

  “I was beginning to wonder exactly what it is you do,” Anya replied. “Other than bother and insult people. Heckler monkey is more like it.”

  Alexi grasped his chest and frowned. “Your words wound me so,” he said. Then he chuckled. “Just promise me you won't fall into the ocean. The captain would give me forty lashes and then some if I let one of you go on my watch.”

  “Let one of us go?” Anya asked. She started climbing down the rigging. “What does that mean?”

  Alexi turned and walked toward the saloon. “You know, get lost to sea, die.” He waved his hand. Anya hurried after him, grabbing his arm before he opened the door.

  “What's going on here?” Anya asked, forcing him to face her. “Stop being so cryptic.”

  “Cryptic?” he replied. “I'm not being cryptic. You're just being apprehensive. I guess that's a normal response; it is your first time on a pirate ship.” He tried to continue into the saloon, but Anya kept her grasp tight on his arm.

  “You told me it's odd that everyone else is being nice to us,” Anya said. Alexi opened his mouth to respond, but Anya continued. “Now you tell me you'll get in trouble if you let one of us go on your watch? Are we members of the crew or are we prisoners? And if we're prisoners, why?” Alexi turned to face her, glancing toward the captain's cabin with a wrinkled brow.

  “You're members
of the crew,” Alexi said in a hushed tone. “But, yes, you are also prisoners, in a way.” He grabbed Anya by the arms and looked her in the eyes. “But you do not know that, alright? And you certainly didn't hear it from me. As far as the captain is concerned, you’re welcome members of the crew who are treated well. He’s trying to build your trust.” This time Anya let him go into the saloon. She followed him.

  “But why?” she whispered before he headed below deck. Alexi paused, thinking.

  “Just keep an eye on your things and your friends,” he said. “Especially Zoya.”

  “I've been told you have an affinity for climbing,” Pavel said to Anya the next morning at breakfast. “We could use some more hands in the rigging if you're up for it?”

  Anya was taken aback. She hadn’t expected her escapades on the rigging the night before to be common knowledge. Alexi had obviously told Pavel, but to what end? Regardless, Anya nodded with a wide grin. She had enjoyed climbing the rigging. Returning the smile, Pavel headed out on deck.

  “What are you, crazy?” Lilia asked. “Everything's icy; you'll slip and fall!”

  “I'll be fine,” Anya said.

  “No you won't. You'll die!” Lilia replied.

  Zoya placed a hand on Lilia's arm. “She'll be fine. She's in Pavel's hands. He won't let her do anything too dangerous.” Lilia sat back thinking about Pavel's stories of how he lost his fingers. Before she could object further, Anya stood and headed outside.

  “Anya, over here!” Pavel shouted from the pilot house. Anya glanced around as she climbed the stairs. It was a dreary day and snow fell steadily. The continents on either side of the ship lurked like massive gray monsters.

  “So,” Pavel said. “I hope you aren't afraid of heights.” He waved his hand toward the mizzenmast where one of the sails was torn. Anya hesitated for a moment.

  “You can't take it down to repair it?” she asked slowly.

  “We don't have the space for that,” Pavel said. “Or the time, or an extra sail. So, we have to repair them where they fly. But don't worry; Alexi will help you.” As he heard his name, Alexi stepped out of the pilot house.

  “Good morning, Anya,” he said with forced courtesy. “How are you this morning?”

  Anya raised an eyebrow at him. “I'm fine, and you?”

  “I'm splendid,” he said. “Ready to be a rigging monkey?”

  “That's what we call—” Pavel started.

  “I know,” Anya interrupted. She blushed at her rudeness and turned to Pavel with a smile. “I've heard the term before.”

  “Good, good,” Pavel replied. “Alexi will show you the ropes.” He headed back down to the main deck.

  Alexi stepped back into the pilot house briefly, then reemerged with a bundle of rope in his hand.

  “This is how we get up there,” he explained, smirking. “You'll get fastened with this, and I'll lift you up to the sail. Sound fun?”

  He held out the bundle to her.

  “Step your legs through here,” he instructed. “Then this part goes over your shoulders.”

  Anya stepped into the tangled mess and eyed Alexi.

  “Don't try anything,” she told him.

  “Wouldn't dream of it,” Alexi replied as he tightened the contraption around her torso. “Nice and snug. Are you ready?” He grabbed some sewing supplies from the deck and handed them to her. Anya took a deep breath.

  “I suppose I am,” she said. “Don't you dare drop me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “How should I know? With how strangely you've been acting, is it really that much of a stretch to think—”

  “I am not going to drop you,” Alexi said. “I promise.” He looked her in the eye, his face sturdy and stoic.

  “Fine,” Anya replied. “Then let's get this over with.”

  “Fine,” Alexi mocked. He grabbed a long piece of rope that was tied to the cords now strapped around Anya's body. Pointing to the nearest shroud, he said, “Climbing that is the easiest way up.” He traced a path up the rigging with his finger then pointed to the first horizontal piece of wood that held the sail. “Climb that way, then up to the first yard. You can sit on that while you work.”

  “Doesn't seem too hard.”

  She walked to the base of the shroud and grabbed on to a rung. The ropes were frayed, but still felt sturdy. She climbed. The first few feet seemed easy, but as she climbed higher she began to feel dizzy and out of breath.

  “You ok up there?” Alexi asked. Anya closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she focused her gaze out around the ship, rather than down. The scenery was gray, mottled between land and sea and sky. Its monotony was oddly calming.

  “Yeah, I'm fine,” she replied at last. She finished her ascent to the yard and hoisted herself onto it.

  “Hard part's over!” Alexi said.

  Anya quickly got to work mending the sail. The tear was at least a foot long, but in a spot that was easy to reach. Halfway through sewing, Anya felt a wave of vertigo and gripped the sail tightly. But after a moment, her fear turned to excitement, and she continued. After Anya finished her work, she looked around then down at Alexi.

  “Do I get down the same way?”

  Alexi nodded and pointed back to the shroud. Carefully, Anya stood up on the yard, holding the sail for balance. She inched herself toward the shroud slowly, trying not to look down. Just as she was about to reach for a rung, her foot slipped, and she tumbled through the air.

  The ropes tightened in a painful jerk, leaving Anya suspended halfway to the deck. She groaned and pulled herself upright in the ropes.

  “You alright?” Alexi asked, holding on to the other end of the rope tightly. Anya nodded.

  “Ok,” he said. “I'm going to lower you to the deck.” Anya nodded again.

  Less-than-gracefully, Alexi lowered Anya until she landed with a thump in front of the saloon. He then hurried to help her up.

  “Could have been a bit gentler,” Anya said as he helped her to her feet.

  “I'm sorry,” he replied. “I've probably frightened you now.”

  Anya laughed. “Frightened? That was the most fun I've had in a long time!” She winced as she pulled the rope harness off.

  “I might have some bruises, though.”

  Laughing, the two of them returned their supplies to the pilot house.

  “Anya,” Alexi said as Anya began to leave the pilot house. He gestured for her to come closer.

  “I saw that object Zoya has in her suitcase,” he whispered. Anya furrowed her brow.

  “She's not going to let you sell it,” Anya replied. “It was her grandmother's. It means way too much to her. She'd die before she let anyone take that from her.”

  “Good,” Alexi said. “Tell her to keep it hidden. Do not let anyone on this ship see it.” Anya stared at him blankly.

  “What?” she said at last.

  “I shouldn't have even brought it up,” Alexi said, waving his hands. “Just keep it hidden. That's all I'm going to say.” He walked toward the door of the pilot house, then stopped. “Pavel needs you for some less-exciting sewing,” he said. “Apparently, Fyodr ripped his pants.” He smirked, then left.

  Zoya and her friends got their first taste of real piracy that afternoon.

  The Ocean's Legend sailed furiously toward a merchant vessel as the sun rose steadily in the sky. Pavel supplied Lilia, Zoya, and Anya with sheathed swords.

  “You likely won't have to do much fighting,” he assured them as they buckled the sheaths on. “Unless you want to, of course.” He winked at Lilia, who blushed. Then he headed below deck.

  “I wish I didn't pick up that sword,” Lilia said. “It was just instinct, I guess.”

  “It'll be alright,” Zoya replied. “I can't imagine we'll stay at sea much longer after this. How much room for loot can they possibly have on this ship?”

  “That's true,” Anya said. She placed a hand on Lilia's shoulder. “Just survive today.
”

  “Good luck with that,” Nikolai said as he and Demyan approached. “As much as I'm still upset that you never invited us to your dancing lessons, I won't complain about relaxing below deck.”

  “Is that what you think?” Pavel laughed, appearing again. “Just because you won't be wielding a sword doesn't mean we don't have use for you. You'll be helping with the cannons.” He pointed below deck then headed toward the captain's cabin.

  “Still better than fighting,” Demyan said. “That's what you get for not telling us about your dancing classes!”

  “We were going to tell you!” Lilia said. “But, the timing was never right.”

  “We started taking lessons right before the plague hit,” Zoya explained sadly. “Nikolai was grieving for his mom, Demyan for his dad.” She placed her hand on Demyan's shoulder.

  “And not long after,” Anya said, “the guards found our instructor. They shot him in his home. He didn't even have a chance to defend himself.”

  “We barely managed to escape out the back door before the guards busted in,” Lilia said.

  The pirates then interrupted their remembrance, rushing around the deck. They were wild-eyed, yelling and shouting and pointing toward the merchant ship.

  “We're closing in on the ship,” Zoya said, glancing at Demyan. “You better get to those cannons.”

  “And you better get ready to fight,” Demyan replied solemnly. He pulled Zoya into a tight embrace and kissed her. “Be careful.” After a second, lingering kiss, he headed below deck with Nikolai.

  Their hands on the hilts of their swords, the girls crossed the main deck. Zoya could see that the merchant vessel was almost close enough to board, and its crew looked panicked. Captain Sokoll stood nearby, grinning hungrily.

  “We don't want any trouble!” a man, presumably the ship's captain, shouted to the pirates. “We ain't got much on this little ship!”

  “Perfect!” Captain Sokoll replied. “We have only so much storage on our ship! Now, if you don't want any trouble, you can surrender right now! We'll kindly take the loot and be on our way!”