Episode 8 - Symbiosis

  Chapter 82 - Bargains

  It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that Captain Moreau is waiting as we land, his team of seconds - including Wesley - at his shoulder. Several meters in front of them all, his black and silver she-wolf stands alone. The Captain’s arms are crossed, broad shoulders square as he waits for the gondola to descend with the patience of a man on a mission. I cannot see his face beneath his respirator, but I can imagine the scowl that must be beneath it.

  The tempest raged for almost a full day. Pooka flew in the crystal blue sky and velvet darkness without rest, never growing bored with the open sky. As the storm broke beneath us, the clouds turned from roiling bruises to spun white. When the sun set, I saw stars through his eyes.

  From the dome, I knew they were there. The distant starlight refracted and was lost in the murky yellow skies of the domes. But they were there, lights in the night.

  Instead, last night, we saw a black forever dusted with gemstones. They were everywhere. Some bright and some faint. Many condensed into a great band of shimmering silver across the arc of the night. We flew together under the light of distant suns. And when daybreak came, it was crimson and cadmium orange. In some ways it was less dramatic than the distinct splitting of white light that occurs in the early morning against the curvature of the dome. But there was a gentle, solemn procession to it instead. A warming of the night's chill. A slow retreat of ultramarine midnight to welcome the brilliant vermillion of the day.

  The storm had cleared the sky of the white haze from holobiont spores, unrolling the empty plains beneath us. We welcomed the joy and oppressive dominance of the sun in a bare sky and infinite brown earth below. The stars slowly faded into the morning light, but now I will always know they are there.

  I wait on the balcony that encircles the gondola, pressed back against the wall so I keep out of the way of the crew that rushes from task to task to prepare for our descent. Over my environmental suit, dry now from hanging outside the bustling kitchen, I have a harness that ties me into the rope system securing everyone working outside the gondola while in flight.

  We land with surprising deftness. I can barely feel the bump as the sleds of the gondola contact the earth. But I do feel a sudden stillness in my gut. The lack of movement leaves me almost as nauseous with its absence as it did in my night on the gondola. I kept on waking up in the sickbay, with a feeling like I was falling disturbing me from my sleep in a breathless panic. It took me a while to realise the gondola never quite flew level. It was tipped at an angle ever so slightly by the forces of wind and drag, and my inner ear found not being flat for sleep deeply unsettling.

  I wish I had slept better. I wish I were less tired. I wish everything was easier. I wish I could just go back to my father’s lab and draw. So I take a breath, and brush my feelings aside to find what strength I can. Facing whatever questions Moreau will have has my stomach twisted in knots.

  Rattakul’s Crew vault from the balconies to stream ropes and tie-downs between hands, securing the gondola. Moreau doesn’t wait for them, stalking forward in a beeline for me. I take one breath to steel myself, and unclip myself from the safety ropes so I can meet him. I’d rather be away from the other crews, conscious of what might be said or overheard. Everyone here must have seen; they know what I am. I dislike having no secrets as shields from strangers. With the exception of Adrian, most of Aquila had no idea how much I'd become capable of. I worked on my own so much.

  Moreau comes to a deceptively lazy stop as I lower myself to the ground, his Lupus trotting just ahead of him with long loping steps. I wish I were taller as I square up to meet him on my own, Pooka still somewhere above my head in the sky.

  “So, Regina finally found her cryptid?” he begins with a menacing growl. “It explains your contract, I guess. It takes strong ropes to control something with your kind of magic.”

  I lift my chin to look at him. Behind respirators, both our faces are shadowed by the lenses of our face shields.

  “I’m not ‘hers’,” I declare.

  “She holds your chain,” he responds without a beat.

  “No, right now, you hold my chain. So what of it?”

  He chuckles, soft and deep in the back of his throat. I glance down at his wolf, who sits on her rump and watches me back.

  “I am a simple man,” says Captain Moreau, planting his hands on his hips. “I have work that needs doing, people to feed. Today the batteries need a charge; tomorrow, we’ll need water; and the next day, something else. An axle might break; a capacitor will die. A laundry list of problems. If I can cross you off my list, that makes my life easier. Can I cross you off my list?”

  I take a breath. “I want something in exchange.”

  His shoulders shift, his jaw tipping. I watch his she-wolf flatten her ears to her skull. “Hmm?”

  “I want to borrow a trailer and go into the wilds when we near an intact manifestation platform. Captain Rattakul told me about something I need to do.”

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  “Did she now?”

  “Someone from Captain Rattakul’s crew will come with me. I’m happy to wait ‘til our route takes us by one, she said your Navigator might be able to pick my moment for me. I want you to give me this chance.” I can barely keep my nerves from shaking my voice.

  “You ask a lot for a Scout. More so for someone who is a loaner. What makes you think you have the cards for this bargain?”

  He’s a pragmatist like Rhett, but more so than that… he’s a merchant. Trade something valuable to him, and he has goods to sell… or opportunities in this case. This I can work with. I don’t even need Rattakul. All the better, I have no desire to leave myself in debt to her despite the kindlier tone she has taken to me. I have the cards. I grin, “I can charge your batteries.”

  The wolf’s ears prick forward. He scratches his chin under the edge of his respirator while Wesley comes to his side, hat crammed on his head.

  “Can you now?”

  I’ve won already. But I sweeten the deal to be sure. “I’m good with technology too. I’d bet you could use another mechanic.”

  I watch the corners of Moreau’s eyes wrinkle as he grins under his mask. “And what guarantee do I have that you can take a trailer and not get lost or killed out there if I loan it to you?”

  “Because I’ll go with her.”

  I look over my shoulder. Rhett leans on his elbows over the railing on the gondola’s balcony, his hands hanging in front of him. His face shield covers his face, his single braid hanging over his shoulder and down the center of his chest. It might be the one time he has the height advantage over his father.

  Moreau grumbles. “Your mother wanted this all along?” he asks, suddenly suspicious again.

  “No. You might have whet her appetite for cryptids, but she doesn't know how they work.”

  “And you do, Pup?”

  Rhett shifts on one-foot, eyes slipping from us both behind his mask. “I’m not blind.”

  “What business is this of yours?”

  “I’m doing the one thing you managed to teach me. I’m taking care of my own. That’s it.”

  Moreau’s voice stiffens, a dark intensity coming to it. “This isn’t my lesson. You take after your mother! Hungry for power that will never fill your stomach. You-”

  “And suddenly this isn’t what you want? I thought you wanted me to learn responsibility?” bites back Rhett.

  “Don’t talk back to me. Do not twist my words, son.”

  Rhett retreats from the railing, withdrawing without a response.

  A taller figure with a coil of rope over one shoulder leans at Rhett’s side, and I can hear a cheeky grin in the familiar voice. “Ho, Captain Moreau, Sir. I didn’t know we was your crew to be given commands?” goads Patrick.

  “Patrick, that you? Keep your shitty opinions to yourself,” calls Wesley, dismissively removing his cap and waving it up at the pair of them.

  “My shitty opinions? Wez, not you too? You’ll hurt my feelings!” replies Patrick, leaning over the balcony and letting the ring of rope slip off his shoulder into his hands so he can bat the side of the gondola with it coyly. It almost reminds me of the management back at Apex batting their fans as they gossiped. “Cut to my core, Wez. Cut to my core.”

  “Stop your nonsense! You’ll use my title-”

  “Nonsense? I’m being sincere. If I was being silly, there’d be far more flirting,” adds Patrick.

  “Shut your mouth, Loshak,” commands Moreau into the exchange. “You don’t have your family's power out here. You’re not my crew, but I can damn well talk to my son how I want.”

  This conversation is quickly spinning out of control. Before Patrick can stick his foot deeper into it, I snap, “He has nothing to do with this. I asked you for a bargain. You’re talking to me!”

  “You will not interrupt me!” booms Moreau, his patience running thin.

  “Lyall!” tears a sudden reprimand from above.

  All parties fall silent as Captain Rattakul slams shut a door behind her. She leans on her cane with one hand, and holds the railing with her second, beginning to take shaky steps down the gangway the crew has assembled. “I fucking wake up and you’re all yelling like children squabbling over broken toys. Shame on you, you’re grown men,” she continues.

  “Captain, you will speak to me with respect in front of my men,” barks Moreau.

  “I will speak to you in the tone you’ve earned. The girl offered you a deal. You gonna bargain with her or not?”

  Moreau grumbles and turns his attention back to me. “Batteries, scouting, prove you can repair my equipment, I pick the time and place.”

  He extends a gloved hand to me, fingers spread for a shake.

  Behind me, Rhett and Patrick trot after Rattakul and I can just hear Patrick purr, “Beautifully done, Captain. Teach me your ways.”

  “Impossible,” replies Rattakul with a sarcastic twist of amusement at the compliment.

  I turn back and look at Captain Moreau’s open palm. “I want a trailer, and food and water to take with me. I can help the science teams too. I’m basically a trained taxonomist.”

  “Prove your value to me, and I’ll give you what you need,” reassures the Captain.

  I take his hand, giving it a firm shake to seal our deal. A squeal of delight breaks our exchange, and Addie comes tumbling into me with a hug.

  “The crew just came and got me. You got one, you got the hickory out safe!” she gleefully yelps into my ear, jumping up and down to shake my shoulder. “Oh, it’s magic. It’s amazing. It’s a miracle. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”