Ocean of Dust (27 page)

"Lissa. And thanks."

"Stop chattering," the captain said. "Boy,
show her how to shinny along that rope."

"I know how," she said, and swung onto the
rope, gripping it with her feet. She pulled herself along, hand
over hand. A boat lay below her in the darkness, bucking and
bouncing as it rode the ship's wake. Sawall and Grad stood in the
prow, their arms outstretched to grab her. Her whole face flushed,
knowing she hung above them with her skirts blowing in the wind,
but she moved quickly and they helped her at the other end.

The boat was larger than the one that had
taken her and Pete from the dock at Pelen. At fifteen feet long
there was ample room for four benches, and equipment stashed in an
open area at the back. She glanced out at the dust ocean, and her
stomach churned to imagine becoming adrift so far from land. What
if they capsized? What if they never found the island? She relaxed
her shoulders and counted slowly to ten. Anything was better than
facing Farq again.

Coy and the men made several trips, bringing
buckets and pitchers of water. The captain slid swiftly and quietly
into the boat, and then faced his new crew: three men, a boy and a
girl.

"Silence. Not a word," he whispered.

He gave a firm tug on the rope and slipped
the knot on the window frame. He caught the rope and coiled it
efficiently below the bow seat. The ship immediately left them
behind.

It finally dawned on her that she would never
see Branda again. Now it was too late to say goodbye. Her eyes
teared up. She’d left her best friend with a gang of murderers. She
should have gone back for her and sneaked her out of the galley and
to the boat. Why hadn't she done that? She wiped her eyes with her
fingers. Cook wouldn't let her come to harm.

Dust blew across the boat, settling on
everything. A chill wind blew her hair. Her hand moved to clip it
back, then dropped into her lap. She sniffed. The captain glared at
her and she flinched and concentrated on not moving a muscle. The
men hunched their shoulders, and glanced repeatedly at the window
they had left open. At any moment a guard could appear and raise
the alarm.

Her gaze ran up the ship's stern to the
command deck at the top. Shadowy figures moved about in the
semi-darkness. The navigator was obvious in his thick robe, but she
saw no sign of Farq. One of the figures moved to the aft rail and
appeared to look right at them. The men froze, holding their
breath. No one dared move. The man walked up and down the rail,
pausing to lean over. The ship moved away at a surprising speed,
and its churning wake sparkled every color. Finally, the man left
the rail. Everyone in the boat exhaled in unison.

What had become her home, grew smaller and
smaller, until all its lights merged into a single point, like one
of millions of stars in the sky. Then the waning star of the
departing ship vanished altogether.

They were alone in the vast dust ocean.

* * *

The sound of voices startled her awake,
unsure of her surroundings. She squinted into the glaring sunrise
of Eldrar. Her neck ached, and her bones cracked as she sat up,
having slept with her head tilted sideways against the side of the
boat. She shook out the pins and needles from her limbs. Her belly
grumbled, and her mouth was dry and coated with dust.

Memories flooded back and she remembered
where she was. The boat rocked swiftly from side to side, a very
different motion to the lazy rolling of the ship. A featureless
expanse of dust lay in all directions, tinted orange by the
suns-rise, making it impossible for her to tell how far the horizon
lay. Tiny whirlwinds danced across its surface, spraying dust. The
men rowed with a slow but consistent rhythm. The dust absorbed all
sound of the oars entering and pulling through it.

The captain coughed and caught her eye. "Fix
us breakfast. Make it small."

"Yes, sir," she croaked, and gladly accepted
a sip from a mug of water passed around. The desire to guzzle it
was powerful, but she fought the urge.

"See if we can fashion a sun shade," he said,
addressing Grad.

She scrutinized their supplies in the bottom
of the boat: dried meat, beans, oodspal, a dozen containers full of
water, a box of crackers, cheese and a handful of fruit. She found
an empty bowl under her seat, half filled it with beans, dashed in
some water and left them to soak. Hopefully, the midday heat would
be enough to soften the beans, even if they didn't get to boil.
Then she handed each person a couple of crackers and slice of dried
meat. They accepted their share with long faces but no
complaints.

"We've probably got four or five days of
supplies," the captain said.

"Eight if we starve ourselves," Grad
replied.

"So we row south you say?" Jancid asked. The
direct manner in which he addressed the captain surprised Lissa,
but he didn't seem to notice.

"South," the captain echoed. "The island
didn't look far on the navigator’s chart."

Her stomach flipped and her pulse raced. The
navigator's calculations were wrong, she was sure of it. She should
warn the captain.
You idiot. It's you who's wrong,
obviously.
She rubbed her eyes. Why would the captain listen to
a galley girl? She chewed her lip.

"We'll rest by day and row at night," he
continued.

"What if we don't see the island and go right
past?" Jancid said, squinting into the distance.

The captain rubbed his jaw. "A risk we'll
have to take. If we row in the heat of the day, the effort'll
exhaust our water too quickly. Sawall, help Grad with that
shade."

The two men unfolded a hide-tarpaulin, pulled
from the rear of the boat. Then they unraveled a coil of rope into
single strands. The men had uncovered what appeared to be a pair of
mini flux vanes lying in the bottom, anchored to the side by slack
chains, and the device between them had to be a hand winch.

"Can I help?" she said.

"No," Grad barked. "Just stay outta the
way."

The captain removed a pair of dagger-like
pins from his immaculately braided hair, letting it unravel into a
mane of black that cascaded down his back to his waist. The simple
change made him seem older, somehow gentler. Grad and Sawall used
the pins to punch holes in the tarpaulin, through which they
threaded the strands of rope. They tied its corners to hooks
beneath the benches, placed two oars into the center, and then
pushed the tarpaulin over their heads. Shade fell across the
boat.

"Good work," the captain said.

Both suns climbed toward the zenith and baked
the ocean around them. A shimmering effect on its surface captured
her attention. Tiny particles of dust bounced upward and fell back,
like beads on a drum, as if the ocean were boiling. She cautiously
lowered her hand and it tingled against her palm. The dust radiated
incredible heat and she was glad for the sunshade.

She thought about the Klynaks following the
ship, dozens of leagues away. She missed them almost as much as she
missed Branda. They were her secret friends.

We are still here.

She jumped and yanked back her hand, bashing
Coy, who was trying to sleep. He stirred and stretched, then moaned
while he shook out pins and needles. Ignoring him, she scanned the
ocean around the boat but there was no sign of a domed Klynak
head.

Where? Near the boat? Or can you talk to me
from the ship?

We watch you. You know you are in danger.
Why do you hide this from your Kee-shar?

Did they mean the captain? He was engaged in
a quiet conversation with Jancid.

He won't listen to me-

The voice in her mind hissed angrily.
You
must persuade him. Do this now.

She glanced at the captain and chewed her
lip, certain he would yell at her, but the voices had never led her
astray. She took a deep breath and gripped the side of the
boat.

"Captain?" Her voice squeaked.

He finished his sentence and then turned to
face her, his brow furrowed with deep lines. "What is it?"

"Begging your pardon... I mean..." She
swallowed hard. "The island isn't south. It's that way."

She pointed to her left, to port.

His eyes narrowed and he exchanged a glance
with Jancid. "You're saying I'm wrong? How dare you."

Everyone stared at her. She opened her mouth
to beg forgiveness and apologize, but instinct told her to stand
firm.

"Oban... I mean, the navigator made a
mistake. We need to head in that direction. I'm sure of it."

The men grumbled. "What the..?"

"Is she mad?"

"What's she going on about?"

The captain's eyes flared, but his tone was
quiet and even. "What makes you qualified to pass judgment on his
skill and long experience?"

"I saw his calculations, and... they're
wrong. I... I did them for myself." She dipped her hand into her
pocket and remembered she had left the page on his desk. "The
island isn't where he thinks it is."

"Mind your tongue, girl," Jancid snarled.
"You aren't at the farmer's market now."

The captain stared at her long and hard. She
held her breath. She'd expected him to scream at her, even strike
her. What was going through his mind?

"That's a serious accusation, girl," he said.
"Why should I believe you?"

Once again, she considered apologizing and
dropping the whole thing, but no, she was certain their lives
depended on it.

"Sir, I'm sure you know a lot about
navigation. I can prove I'm right if you have a pen and
parchment."

"This ought to be fun," Sawall muttered.

"I don't have those things," the captain
said. "Tell me."

She took a deep breath. "The last series of
suns-set readings against Adilo were 16, 19 and −3. Against Medepo
yesterday evening, they were 25, 43 and 16. I've been listening to
the readings for days now, and they were moving east and later for
Adilo and south and later for Medepo. So the equinoxal trend was
south and east."

Her gaze flicked around the boat. Jancid
glared at her, Sawall's eyes had glossed over, Coy grinned ear to
ear, and Grad shrugged and shook his head in amazement. The
captain's expression was impossible to read. No one uttered a word,
so she continued.

"I saw the navigator’s chart because I'd been
working in his cabin, copying one of his books. I hadn't meant to
damage his book, but he-"

"Yes, yes," the captain said. "No matter, go
on."

"He had the ship's last position as 95
leagues north and 126 east of Us-imyan-"

"You can't possibly remember all those
numbers," Jancid interrupted. "You're making it all up."

"You didn't see her at the festival, old
man," Grad said. “She can remember numbers all right.” He winked at
Lissa.

"You have to believe me," she said. "The
translation of the second quadrant puts us further east than the
navigator thought. The island is west of us, not south."

"You flipped the stellar triangle," the
captain said, "forgot to project it down from the sky onto the
ground. Your math is backward."

"This is madness!" Jancid exploded, throwing
his hands into the air. "Sir, you're arguing with a cooking girl.
She's talking gibberish, flat out lying."

"It sounds pretty damn believable to me,"
Grad said.

"No it ain't," Sawall said. "We know she
remembers stuff. She just overheard the navigator and is trying to
make herself sound smart. Cap'n, Jancid's right. If the navigator
says south, then south it is. I say we gag her to shut her nonsense
up."

"Silence," the captain barked. "Girl, was
your translational matrix positive or negative?"

"Negative," she said, barely audible.

He leaned forward, and his eyes sparkled. The
barest hint of a smile formed in one corner of his mouth. He slowly
nodded his head.

Lissa's jaw dropped. Had she missed a step
and made a crucial error? He'd caught her, seen her mistake. She
slinked into the bottom of the boat. The navigator had been right
all along.

Chapter 24 - The Flux Channel

Jancid laughed, while Sawall flexed and
cracked his knuckles, poised to leap into action at the first
order. The captain's dark eyes bored in to Lissa, then he sighed
and looked out in the direction she had indicated, his loose hair
blowing in the breeze. He pulled a looking glass from his belt and
studied the horizon.

"How far?"

"One hundred and fifty leagues," she replied.
There was a rustle of clothing as the men fidgeted nervously.

"We'll never row that," Jancid said. "Not
with the water we 'ave."

Coy's shoulders slumped, and his encouraging
grin vanished.

"What if we rowed day and night, in turns?"
Grad suggested.

"You 'eard the cap'n," Jancid cried. "We'll
use all our water up. And the food. We ain't gonna make it."

"Captain-" Lissa began.

"I'm tired of your complaining," Grad shouted
at the old sailor. "How about you row instead of mouth off all the
time?"

She coughed and raised her voice.
"Captain-"

Sawall joined in. "If we throw you two
loudmouths off the boat, they'll be more food an' water for the
rest of us."

Jancid lunged at Sawall. The boat rocked
violently, knocking him backward. "Just try it. I've been working
this ocean a'fore you were born. Don't speak-"

"Quiet. All of you." The captain lowered his
looking glass. "What is it, girl?"

"I think I can navigate if someone works the
flux vanes."

Sawall snorted. "Oh, you just know how to do
everything, don't you?"

"Just 'cos you overheard some clever words,
it don't make you useful," Jancid said. "I don't even know why we
brought you."

"Let her try," the captain said. "Sawall,
Grad, change places with her. Set up the vanes and get them
lowered."