Seabound (Seabound Chronicles Book 1) (12 page)

The excitement
over potatoes was matched only by the excitement over the books in the library.
It was a grand room, with an entire wall of windows looking out on the
Flotilla
. The group spread out, combing
the walls for old favorites and new discoveries. Their own collection of books
had suffered the effects of too much moisture over the years. They had also
gleaned paper from the margins of most of their books to record inventory and
essential communications. The
Crystal
seemed to have a good
dehumidifying system to prevent mildew from consuming the pages. The library
had groupings of soft, mismatched chairs that looked like they’d been brought
in from two or three different libraries. Some shelves had clearly been added
later than others, and the books were double stacked. Bernadette pulled one off
the shelves and folded herself into an armchair immediately.

But Esther was
still itching to explore the engine rooms. She asked Dax if that would be
possible.

“Why the engine
rooms?” he asked.

“I’m a mechanic
over on the
Catalina
,” she explained. “I just want to see how things
work here.”

“Okay . . . I’ve
actually never been down there, so I’m not sure what their rules are. I’ll see
what I can find out, okay?”

“Cool. Thanks. Oh,
and when will it be possible for us to organize trade?”

“Trade?” Dax
seemed confused. “Oh, um, I’m not sure about that. If you need anything in
particular, just ask.”

“I need some
pretty specific parts, so it would be good to talk to a machinist, if one’s
available.”

“Oh, like trading
for
ship
parts? Yeah, let me find out
for you. Anyway, it’s almost time to head back over to the
Emerald
for
dinner!”

Dax had eased into
his role considerably. Esther suspected that he had not been taking people on
tours for long. She wondered how often they encountered other ships. As a
general rule, Judith preferred to avoid others whenever possible. It was
strange to encounter a group where such occurrences were common enough to
devote an entire occupation to them.

Dinner took place
in the Salmon Lounge on the
Emerald
. A second ferry-load of people had
been brought over from the
Catalina
. Dax and the other guides shepherded
them to the tables, explaining that the Galaxians would eat in other dining
halls. The restaurant was just big enough to hold all the visitors. Adele, the
statuesque woman from the reception desk, gave a short speech reminding everyone
to ask if they needed anything at all, from water to use of the hospital facilities.

Waiters in white
shirts brought out the food, earning surprised looks from the Catalinans. The
waiters were solicitous, and one even offered to drape Esther’s napkin (cloth,
no patches) in her lap for her. Everyone sat a little straighter, acted a
little more formal in these circumstances. Esther had the vaguest memory of
going to a fancy restaurant in San Diego once to celebrate something for her
dad’s work at the university. She had been four or five years old. Her mother
had pulled her hair into a too-tight bun, and Esther had accidentally eaten the
fancy pat of butter, thinking it was white chocolate.

There was butter
on this table too, to go with the roasted garlic potatoes and salmon. Esther
ate slowly, savoring each hot bite. The potatoes oozed flavor and memories. The
portions were small, but Esther made hers last for as long as she could. There
was a dreamy air around the table. Everyone seemed completely wrapped up in the
smells and tastes.

As they ate, a
quartet of string musicians played in the corner. Esther hadn’t heard violins
since her childhood. There was a rich, sophisticated tone to the sound, and it,
like so many other things on the
Galaxy
ships, made her feel small.

After the meal was
over, the Catalinans slowly made their way back to the ferry. Adele had offered
to find them all places to sleep, but no one wanted to go against Judith’s instructions.
However, they made plans to bring the
Catalina
in closer the next morning and temporarily connect it to the
Emerald
with one of the retractable bridges.

As Esther waited
for the second ferry to arrive, Neal shuffled up to join the group. She
extricated herself from Cally, who was telling her for the third time about how
Dax had asked her to watch a movie at the cinema with him the next day. She
made her way through the crowds, who took no notice of her now that they had
been supplied with plenty of clean water and the best meal of their seabound
lives.

“Neal. How’d it go
with Marianna?”

“Shh, Es, not so
loud.” Neal’s eyes were wide, and his face was almost as pale as it had been
when he first saw Marianna.

“Uh-oh. What’s
up?” They stepped over to the reception desk. Adele was busy chatting to a ring
of admirers at the other end.

“She’s married.
Marianna is married already,” Neal said, voice cracking.

“Aw rust. I’m sorry,
Neal.” Esther could see the pain in her friend’s face. “Why didn’t she mention
it sooner? Did she not realize you were interested in her?”

Neal shook his
head, staring vacantly. “She knew I was in love with her . . . and she didn’t
tell me.”

“Maybe she didn’t
want to hurt your feelings,” Esther said. “She probably thought you’d never
meet.”

“The ferry’s
here,” someone near the door called.

The crowd started
shuffling toward the exit, pushing Esther and Neal closer together.

“That’s just it,”
he said. “She didn’t think we’d ever meet . . . but she’s in love with me too.”

“She said that?”

“She as good as
said it. Maybe I was some sort of fantasy escape from her husband when she was
saying all those sweet things on the radio, but she really has feelings for me.
I’m sure of it!”

Esther frowned.
“Shouldn’t she have told you when she found out we were coming?”

“We haven’t talked
much since then because Manny’s been monitoring me.”

“Still,” Esther
said, glancing up to make sure no one was paying attention to them, “she could
have dropped it in casually. It’s not really fair to you.”

“She’s been
worrying over what to do,” Neal said, “and how to tell me when I got here. She
said it’s all she’s been thinking about.” His voice sounded hopeful.

“Well . . . at
least she likes you.” Esther patted Neal awkwardly on the back.

They made their
way toward the exit, which was becoming less congested as the Catalinans
crowded onto the ferry that had pulled up alongside the
Emerald
.

“Yeah, I’m sure
she does,” Neal said. “Rust, I’ve been agonizing over whether or not she was
going to like me when I should have been agonizing over whether or not to ask
her to leave her husband for me.”

Esther stopped
short. Someone knocked into her in the press of people.

“Wow, wait a
second. You didn’t ask her to do that, did you?”

“Not officially,
no, but I’m thinking about it,” Neal said. “He doesn’t pay enough attention to
her. I’m sure she’d be happier with me.”

“Neal, they’re
married. It’s over.”

Marriage vows were
taken very seriously on the
Catalina
. There had been affairs over the
years, but people looked unkindly on them. When you were destined to live on
the same floating island for the rest of your life, you couldn’t risk damaging
too many relationships. Esther could almost see Neal talking himself into this,
though, as they made their way onto the ferry and found seats near the stern.

“He’s not right
for her,” Neal said. “She just married him because there weren’t any other
choices.”

“You’re lying to
yourself,” Esther said. “Look at how many people live here. I’m sure he wasn’t
her only option.” She gestured toward the lights of the flotilla beyond their
window. There was no way a woman like Marianna only had one choice amongst all
these people. There had to be more to the story.

Neal sighed and
slumped back against the hard ferry seat. “I don’t know what to do, Esther. We
had dinner together tonight, and I’m going to meet her in her broadcast tower
tomorrow if Judith lets me get away.”

“Just be careful.
We still don’t know much about this place.”

The
Catalina
felt smaller when they returned. The sky was still clear. They could even see
the moon. Esther was quiet when she returned to their cabin, where Simon
waited. There was so much to process about the day. She wasn’t sure what to feel
about the
Galaxy
. It was at once
enticing and confusing. She imagined what it would have been like to grow up
there, surrounded by all those people. She tried to describe what she’d seen to
her father, but words seemed inadequate. He’d have to see for himself. She
thought about discussing Neal’s predicament with Simon too, but she stayed
quiet. It would be easier if Neal decided Marianna was not everything he’d
dreamed she was. Perhaps he’d find someone else to love. The
Galaxy Flotilla
was full of possibilities.

Chapter 13—
Galaxy
Gardens

The Catalina moored alongside
the
Emerald
Galaxy
first thing the next morning, and its
inhabitants poured across the newly extended bridge. They ventured into the
city of ships, marveling at the huge vessels, the fleet of smaller boats, the
facilities and resources. For days they reveled in the chance to look at
something new, something that wasn’t the same old corridors and the vast expanse
of the sea. They only returned to the
Catalina
at night.

The residents of
the
Galaxy
met them with
indifference. They went about their business, sidestepping the groups of Catalinans
milling in the corridors with looks of faint irritation. The Guest Services
staff, on the other hand, attended to their every need. They found new shoes
for some, medical care for others. Each morning they would wait to accompany
groups from the
Catalina
around the
Flotilla
.
Few of the Catalinans wanted to explore on their own, but if they did they just
had to show their Guest cards to receive complimentary meals and
transportation.

The Guest Services
people were quick to answer questions about the
Galaxy
’s customs and facilities—or at least some of them.
Esther’s questions about the work crews, the engines, and the oil tankers were
deflected. Instead, the guides would point her to the dinners, the leisure
activities, the distractions. They wanted the visitors to see the cleanest,
shiniest version of the
Galaxy
possible.

 
At the first opportunity Simon asked
Adele if he could see the gardening and farming facilities. The
Catalina
hadn’t been able to collect enough dirt and seed to grow anything on a large
scale. Some ships managed it by sending expeditions to the ravaged coastlines
or happening upon islands, but the
Catalina
was too ungainly for such excursions. Besides, gardens required a lot of sunlight,
something that was never guaranteed these days. He asked Esther to go along
with him on their third morning at the
Flotilla
.
She hadn’t managed to sneak out of the cabin before he woke up.

“Is Penelope coming?”

“Esther . . .”

“I’ve been
perfectly nice to her, Dad. I’m just asking.”

“No. She’s taking
an extra shift in the nursery today,” Simon said.

“Okay. I’d love to
see the gardens.”

Esther pulled on
her boots. She hadn’t exactly been hostile to Mrs. Noah. She was sure of it.
But she
had
been avoiding the woman
since catching her in bed with her father.

“Doesn’t Penelope
want to see the church?” Esther asked, making a small effort to be friendly. “I
hear they have a real one on the
Crown
.
And it’s Sunday. That’s a church day,
right?”

“She talks about
going to visit the church, but I think she’s afraid to.”

Simon wrapped a
green scarf around his neck and pulled his own shoes from beneath his bunk. The
hole in the right toe had opened again.

“Afraid?” Esther
said. “She runs the church meetings here still.”

“True, but they
abandoned traditional liturgy long ago. Mostly they pray together and talk
about the End of Days. I think Penelope fears she’s been doing something
wrong.”

“I can think of a
thing or two she’s been doing wrong,” Esther grumbled.

Her dad did not
react, though he must have heard her in the small space. They left their little
cabin together. Esther kept her eyes on the flattened carpet as they passed the
Newtons’ room.

Esther and Simon
joined a dozen other Catalinans on one of the bigger water taxis. The wind was
crisp as they sped amongst the
Galaxy
ships.
They passed through the shadow of an oil tanker on their way to the cargo ship.
It had a thick coat of rust on the hull. This close, Esther could see there
were men stationed at regular intervals along the tanker. They leaned casually,
but their silhouettes included the jagged outlines of weapons above their
shoulders, gun barrels sprouting like spines. No one else in the boat seemed to
notice.

The cargo ships
were long and flat, slightly shorter than the big cruise ships. They were
arranged side by side, forming an almost perfect square. Cranes and shipping
containers dotted the iron landscape. People scrambled over the ships, men and
women with hard muscles and harder faces. Their clothes were noticeably more
worn than those of the
Emerald
Galaxy
residents.

Esther asked the
water taxi skipper about them as they made their way around the stern of the
first vessel.

“Where do the
people who work on the cargo ships live?”

“Depends.
Deckhands and bilge rats bunk where they work.”

The taxi skipper
had a brown tweed hat pulled low over his eyes. A thick beard curled at his
jowls, but his chin was bare.

“I thought there
was extra space on the cruise ships.”

“Don’t matter.
It’s dirty work. The high-and-mighty types don’t want them spoiling the
carpets. They’re all happier round here anyway.”

“Why?”

“Got their own
families, don’t they? Their own friends. Half don’t speak English anyway.” The
skipper kept his eyes on the water as they leaned in the wake of a passing
vessel.

“What if they want
to move to a nicer ship?” Esther asked, remembering what Dax had said on their
first tour.

“They can apply,”
the skipper said. “The ones who do the scientific stuff all move up
eventually.”

“Where would a
mechanic live?” Esther asked. She suspected she’d fit in best with the
deckhands and bilge rats. She looked to see if her father was listening, but he
was deep in conversation with another passenger.

“How good are you?
Every ship needs ’em, but there are a few projects that call for specific
skills.”

“I’m pretty good
with energy systems,” Esther said. “Efficiency, that sort of thing.”

She thought of the
generator idea she wanted to work on after she got the desal system sorted out.

“They’re always
needing that, specially when it comes to drinking water.”

The taxi skipper
squinted up at the cargo ship as they bobbed up to the loading platform.

“Hey, you wouldn’t
happen to know where I could trade for some new desalination filters and other
parts, would you?” Esther asked. “Our system is in bad shape.”

He looked at her
sideways under the brim of his cap. “You’d best speak to Guest Services about
that. I just do the people moving.”

“They haven’t been
especially forthcoming, but thanks.” Esther stood as the other passengers began
to disembark. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Byron.” He took a
hand off the wheel to shake hers.

“Esther Harris.”

The Catalinans
loaded off the boat and climbed another collapsible ladder up to the deck of
the cargo ship. At the top, a flat plane formed by multiple vessels spread out
before them. “Welcome to the
Galaxy
Gardens,” said their guide, a glum
brunette with a monotonous voice. “My name is Jane, and I’ll be your tour guide
for the afternoon. This project supplements our seaweed harvesting to make sure
all the inhabitants of the
Flotilla
get enough nutrients. We have a strict growing schedule to optimize our use of
the soil without exhausting it.”

The group from the
Catalina
followed their guide along the portside railing to a wide swath
of earth. The “field” was sunken deep into the deck, so they couldn’t see it
when they first stepped onto the vessel. They looked down in awe at the
gorgeous black soil. Esther breathed deeply and caught the calming, loamy smell
of the earth beneath the usual salty tang.

Pillars at the
edges of the field were rigged with an awning and a windshield that could be
pulled across it when necessary.

“This protects the
soil in high winds,” Jane explained. “And the shield is fitted with artificial
sunlight generators so we don’t lose a harvest if there’s a prolonged dark
period.”

“Where did you get
the soil in the first place?” Esther asked.

“Captain Boris
took a patrol ship in to Hawaii in the early days.” A swoony smile lit Jane’s
face for an instant. “That’s why he became captain of the
Crystal
after the old one passed. It was so brave. The harbors are
very dangerous, you know. But Captain Boris isn’t afraid of anything . . .”
Jane trailed off, then gave herself a sudden shake. Her bored expression
returned.

“We have a compost
facility on that cargo ship over there with the orange hull,” she intoned. “The
harvest is better every year.”

“Do you produce
enough vegetables for everyone to eat them regularly?” Simon asked.

“That depends on
the harvest year and the person’s income level. Naturally, the wealthier
inhabitants are able to enjoy the fruits of our labor more frequently,” Jane
said without blinking.

“What do the
low-income inhabitants do for nutrients?”

“The seaweed
supply is abundant; it’s usually the cheaper option.”

The plants were
organized in neat sections, stretching all the way to the end of the vessel.
Workers filed amongst them with water and shears and baskets, tending the
precious vegetation. Their group was standing closest to a tomato plot. Esther
remembered tomatoes. The bulbous red fruits were small, but they dripped
heavily from the fragile plants.

Esther was
surprised to see Judith walking amongst the plants. David Hawthorne strolled beside
her, his back as straight as ever, sweeping his arms over the fields, presumably
extolling the virtues of the gardening project. Judith looked grumpy at being
taken on yet another sightseeing tour. She’d pulled her hair back into a severe
ponytail, and she kept reaching up to tug it tighter. Hawthorne had been
keeping her busy with tours and performances. She’d had dinner with the
captains on the
Crown
every night so
far.

Simon took notes
as they walked down the long edge of the field. Adele had given him a
completely blank notebook. Esther looked over his shoulder and saw he was
already filling it with his tiny handwriting. Now, he sacrificed writing space
to sketch some of the features of the gardens. They reached a glass-encased box
amidships.

Simon almost
dropped his pen. “It’s a greenhouse,” he told Esther. She couldn’t remember the
last time she’d heard that animated tone in his voice. “I used to study on the
picnic tables next to the greenhouse in college. I even brought your mother
there a few times when the weather was good.”

Esther smiled at
that. Since she’d discovered the relationship between Simon and Penelope
Newton, she’d been watching for any indication that Simon still thought about
her mother.

“What do you think
about all this, Dad? The
Galaxy Flotilla
.”

They peered in the
windows of the greenhouse together. It was crammed with boxes of tiny sprouts.
The lime green of new life misted the shelves. A group of women around Esther’s
age walked among them, carefully watering the baby plants, coaxing them to
life. Esther recognized one of the women. She was the blond who’d been talking
with her friends in the Salmon Lounge on their first day. She looked up and saw
their tour group, then nudged her companion, the waifish brunette. The woman nodded
and set down the can she’d been using to pour water on the plants. She crossed
the greenhouse and leaned in to whisper to a tall black woman. She too looked
up at the tour group, nodded, and set down her can.

“It’s an
interesting thing they’ve built here,” Simon said. “What they’ve been able to
do with their resources is impressive. It’s clear that a lot of planning has
gone into making the
Flotilla
function as it does.”

“I guess so,”
Esther said, now watching the three women gather at the back of the greenhouse
and reach for something underneath a table of sprouts in individual pots. “It
all seems a little impersonal though, doesn’t it?”

“How do you mean?”

“Most of the
people don’t even know each other. We stand out because of our clothes, not
because of our unfamiliar faces.”

“It’s a different
way of life, that’s true,” Simon said. “Even with all the conveniences and
opportunities that come from having a bigger pool of talent and resources,
there is still a cost. What we have on the
Catalina
is special because
we’ve all been through exactly the same thing together and there are so few of
us that we all know one another. But that makes it insular and even catty sometimes.”

“
That’s
sure true.”

“You know,
Esther,” Simon said, turning away from the greenhouse to follow their guide,
“this place presents an interesting choice for us. It’s an alternate way of
life, and when presented with an alternative, we can’t help but reassess the
way we do things.”

“What would you
change about the
Catalina
?” Esther asked.