The navigator, p.12
The Navigator, page 12
If Catalin forgot to re-check any one of those things, the rest of his day would be ruined by worry. The thought that just one thing was amiss would lodge itself like a splinter in his brain, driving him crazy, until he came home to check it.
Catalin grabbed his briefcase. He was about to leave, but had a feeling that something wasn't right. He looked over at his coffee table and noticed that a book lying on top of it was slightly askew. Before he left, he made sure its edges were squared into a right angle with the table edge and the television remote.
Outside, it was a pleasant spring day. The cherry trees were blossoming all along the sidewalk, filling Khai Shen's crowded streets with beautiful white and pink flowers. The air was humid but comfortable, reaching just into the low seventies.
Catalin paused to admire the cityscape. Rickshaws, phat-phats, compact cars, and little mopeds sped down the grid-like city streets, while legions of Kudu-suited men and women rushed to get to work. Younger girls lingered outside innumerable street side cafes, taking sips of tea, sundresses fluttering in the breeze.
Catalin savored his walk to the office. He tried to take in all the sights, sounds, and smells he'd missed out on the ocean. Car horns and laughter echoed across the high-rises. The smell of roasting meat and fresh coffee made him salivate. The little lawns in front of every brownstone soaked up the sun and smelled like summer.
He meandered his way down two packed city blocks, in a reverie, before arriving at a gray, twenty-story building.
Catalin paused in front of the mega structure. It was the tallest building in Khai Shen. Right above the revolving-door entrance hung a stone panel that had been chiseled by hand. He read the lettering.
The People's Republic of Kudu State Security Service.
- 25-
"Good morning agent Catalin." A perky woman looked up from behind her desk.
"Hello Khana."
Catalin didn't pause. Khana's bubbly demeanor irked him in the morning. If he lingered for just a single second, she would drag him into some mundane conversation he'd rather not be a part of.
Without giving her a second look, he walked through the lobby, over to the elevators. Next to the elevator was a small red crystal.
Catalin leaned forward and held his eye up to the crystal. A tiny band of laser light shot out from it. This web of red light swept across his retinas.
"Please state your name," a robotic voice hummed.
"State Security Agent Adolphus Catalin."
"ID confirmed. One moment please."
The elevator door slid open.
Catalin walked inside and took the elevator to the top floor.
Once Catalin stepped out of the elevator, he was greeted by a suite of offices. Their walls were gray and lined with cubicles. He slowly made his way across the office space to a large conference room. He waited outside an oak door for just a moment, until someone pulled it open.
"Agent Catalin. I'm glad to see you're looking well after all that time out at sea." An older, blue-eyed man greeted him in the doorway and motioned for him to come inside. His black Kudu suit had a small flag pin on the collar.
"Thank you Chairman Manheim." Catalin bowed to him and entered.
Inside the room, were two other men and a middle-aged woman seated around a mahogany conference table.
"Representative Folkum, Representative Ontalla, General Keitel." Catalin bowed to each of them in succession.
"The pleasure is ours, agent Catalin. Please take a seat."
Catalin walked over to one of the empty office chairs. The leather groaned as he put his weight on it.
The walls of the conference room were windows that overlooked Khai Shen. A tall mountain ridge hemmed in the city from the western side like the spiny back of a dragon. To the east, lay sparkling open ocean and Baffin Island, which sat at the mouth of Khai Shen Bay.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Ontalla asked. Her black hair was pulled into a tight bun.
"Tea would be delightful."
An old wrinkled man who'd been hidden in a corner pushed a clanking cart up to the table. He poured a small cup of oolong tea from a ceramic pot and delicately handed the teacup to Catalin. He then gave him a deep bow.
"Thank you." Manheim smiled. "Some privacy please."
The old man pushed his cart out of the conference room. Once he was gone, Manheim locked the door.
Shades automatically lowered over the windows.
Catalin stared at his teacup. He slid it so it was exactly centered with the conference table and perpendicular to the table edge.
General Keitel leaned forward. His green Kudu suit had military shoulder bars with five golden stars. "Congratulations on your excellent work recovering that wreckage. It's been secured on Baffin Island. Few agents could have located it so swiftly or so discretely."
"It is my pleasure to be of Kudu's service."
"And you have given the People's Republic excellent service over the course of your career."
"Thank you general. I believe your own congratulations are order. The papers say Yong has all but fallen."
"Don't believe everything you read in the State-controlled media. I am certain it will take years to drive the rest of the guerrillas out of their hideaways in the southern swamps and mangroves."
"A guerilla war is such a messy affair," Folkum mused. "Hopefully when the time comes to take Roc and the Isle of Mann our victory will be much cleaner."
"I hope so as well," Catalin brooded.
"Unfortunately, your counterpart wasn't nearly as successful as you were. He procured the incorrect key. Without that key the wreckage is useless." Manheim licked his lips.
"If it had been up to us you would have been entrusted with both halves of this operation, but you understand our hands were tied. Kudu has its standard procedures," Ontalla added.
Catalin gave her a slight nod. "Redundancy lessens the likelihood of total failure."
"Yes it does, but a man of your talents should have been entrusted with more responsibility. If you had, this failure would likely have not occurred."
"You are so. . .meticulous." Ontalla clicked her nails on the table. "We trust you will be able to rectify your counterpart's error."
"Your trust is a heavy burden." Catalin picked up his teacup and took a small sip. His tongue recoiled at the taste. He'd forgotten to ask for milk or sugar. "I will apply myself to your task - fully."
"We expected no less. It's no surprise you made the Coterie at such a young age. You are a truly remarkable servant of the People's Republic."
"It's my honor to serve, Chairman."
Folkum picked up a briefcase and opened the latches. He pulled out a manila file and pushed it across the table.
"This file should supply you with all the necessary details. Please do continue to demonstrate such remarkable efficiency. And it goes without saying, but if word of this were to leak, the People's Republic would be put in a very uncomfortable position."
Catalin looked down at the nondescript file. "State secrets are my secrets, Representative Folkum."
"Then we could not have selected an agent more suited to this task." Ontalla gave him a quivering smile. Her teeth were stained a dirty yellow from too much coffee.
"You are too kind."
Keitel cleared his throat. "You will have two squads of Kudu Kommandos at your disposal. Should you need them. Along with your own vessel. Contact us should you require additional resources."
"I will try and make do with what I've been given; I understand the State's resources are spread a bit thin at the moment."
Manheim chuckled. "Once again, very thoughtful, agent Catalin. We rest assured of your success."
"Thank you chairman." Catalin stood up.
"Good luck."
- 26 -
Catalin walked to a restaurant just a few blocks away from the State Security building. It was a small café with wooden furniture and checkered curtains. The bar on the far wall was empty. The TV above it buzzed, tuned into a State news channel.
A waiter poked his head out of the kitchen and eyed Catalin, who was still standing in the doorway, tapping his loafers impatiently. He walked over to him.
"How many sir?"
"Just me."
Catalin admired an ornamental tree set up behind the bar. Its emerald leaves and pink flowers were actually little strips of colorful folded paper.
"Sit anywhere you'd like."
Catalin took a seat next to the window so he could look outside at the city as he ate. He watched a pair of women stroll by on the sidewalk.
Before the waiter had a chance to walk away, he rattled off his usual order.
Catalin hated waiters. They always seemed to hover over him when he ate alone. He figured they must think that anyone with enough money to eat out alone would be bound to tip well. They were always overly chummy and doting.
Catalin hated the extra attention, but tipped well anyway.
He always left twenty percent.
"Here you are sir." The waiter returned, putting down a small plate of colorful sushi. "Would you like anything else?"
Catalin studied his food. The waiter had knocked his chopsticks slightly askew. He straightened them immediately.
"Some tea would be lovely."
"Of course." The waiter darted away.
Catalin popped a sushi roll into his mouth. The creamy orange roe went perfectly with the flakes of panko. The tuna inside was fatty and smooth. He savored the combination. The shrimp tempura it was wrapped around was overdone. It had a rubbery, veiny texture.
The waiter returned with an old teapot. Catalin ignored it for a moment and leaned under the table. He opened his briefcase, pulled out the manila file, and then poured himself a cup of tea.
There was a little cow-shaped vessel near the windowsill. Catalin picked it up and sniffed its top. It smelled like yak's milk. He smiled, pleasantly impressed. Yak's milk was a rare commodity. It had to be shipped by llama all the way down from the Kingdom of Roc where there were no trucks or paved roads. He added a drop of the milk to the tea and took a tiny sip of the mixture while leafing through the file.
Catalin stopped on a blown up photograph. The picture was old. A somewhat grainy black and white image. It was of a young girl who looked no older than eleven.
There was a small tattoo directly under her eye.
The Raft
- 27 -
Lhan took a deep breath. It was stifling hot out in the sun and the lungful of humid air made it feel even hotter. The grated metal that made up the dock under him straddled the surface of the ocean, rising and falling with the crest of each wave. Lhan fought to keep his footing on the shifting metal. When a high breaker came in, he nearly tumbled backwards into the water.
"Watch yourself," Mordecai barked.
Mordecai was an old, weathered black man, with a high fade and a tight, armored vest. He was the sheriff of the Raft, a hodgepodge colony of intertwined vessels. His yellow jacket and automatic rifle made him stick out from the other dockworkers under the blazing afternoon sun.
"Don't worry bout me." Lhan grinned, his face nearly hidden under his dirty blond hair. "Could really go for a swim bout now anyway."
Mordecai gave Lhan a crabbed smile. He then looked back toward the sea, scanning the waves for any incoming vessels. Far to the north, he could see a tiny white mast, barely visible over the wave tops.
"Got one coming in on the north side."
Lhan scampered across the steel, over to where Mordecai was standing. He squinted out at the ocean. "Friend or foe?"
"Can't tell yet." Mordecai turned around. Dozens of dock workers were scurrying about, securing boats to the dock and scanning the tangle of ropes and groaning metal for any needed patchwork repairs.
Mordecai motioned for them to be vigilant.
Lhan continued to stare at the incoming craft. Slowly, it blew closer toward them.
"Is that. . .my God. . .it's Quill."
Mordecai saw the boat clearly now. A smile crept across his face.
"Quill!" Lhan called out over the lap of the ocean, "Quill!"
***
Quill helped Petal take down the billowing nylon sail. Their little boat continued to creep toward the Raft, carried by a gentle current. The Raft looked like a blight across the face of the sea. Thousands of little masts protruded up from it like dead trees. The hundreds of interlaced wrecks looked like the rolling hills of an undulating, artificial island.
As the docks grew closer, Quill saw a tall, dark figure standing at their very edge. When her boat finally came to a rest, its large presence loomed over her, blocking out the sun.
"Hello, Mordecai."
Mordecai studied Quill's boat. It was stuffed with trash, empty containers, and half-eaten provisions. There was a feral looking, red-headed girl hiding toward the back of the boat. Her edgy demeanor made him suspicious.
"Howdy, Quill. Welcome home."
"Great to be back."
"Thought you might have gone back to land."
"No place for me there, anymore." Quill tried to stand. The little boat rocked back and forth, and she started to fall.
Mordecai held out his hand and she grabbed it to regain her balance.
"Enough said." He pulled her onto the dock. "Who's your passenger?"
"That's Petal. I'm the passenger. It's her boat."
"Pleased to meet you. Lhan!" Mordecai peered over his shoulder. "Haul this boat down to dock five. Tie her up next to the others."
"Sure boss." Lhan snatched up a mooring line and tossed an end to Petal. She tied it to her boat and he began to pull on the rope, dragging her little craft down the docks toward a row of secured ships.
Quill followed him.
Mordecai walked right on her heels. "You staying on the Raft this time, Quill, or just passing through again?"
"No one plans to stay on the Raft, do they? Except you. I'm staying until I find another ship to take me."
"Bad luck with the last one? Warned you about going off with those pirates."
"Yeah. Bad luck."
"Well, welcome home. You know the rules. I'll leave you the honor of filling your friend in on them. And I'm sure Lhan will help you with your things and help you get settled." With that, Mordecai walked down to the end of the dock and the edge of the sea.
Lhan lashed Petal's boat to the end of a long line of ships – a row of derelict junks and fishing trawlers. The boats sat side-by-side next to the dock, their hulls grinding against each other from the push of each passing wave.
Petal climbed out of her boat as Lhan worked on a fisherman's knot to secure it.
"Hey, Lhan." Quill walked up behind him, playfully kicking him.
Lhan glanced up at her with an excited smile.
"Hi, Quill. Missed ya." He pulled the knot taut and stood from his squat. "How'd your job go with that pirate?"
"Does it look like it went well?" Quill pointed at Petal's rickety boat. She slipped into it and helped Petal lift some supplies onto the dock. "Naris tried to kill me – he threw me overboard. I'm okay now. . . thanks to Petal."
Petal didn't acknowledge Lhan. She mindlessly stacked her cargo on the dock, jumping in and out of her boat as needed.
"Hello," she mumbled.
"Hey, there." Lhan smiled at her, a little bob of fiery red hair. He took a step back, looking over what the two girls were scrounging.
"How's it been here?" Quill shoved some cargo into a large canvas sack.
"Same old. Think Mordecai's become even more of a hardass since you left, but you know how things move around here - slower than a jelly. No news, really. Though I heard Yong's fallen."
"You sure?" Quill tied off the sack and tried to sling it over her shoulder. She could barely lift the heavy bag; her arms shook. "The war's really over? It's been going on forever."
"Dunno for certain. That's what all the new Yong refugees are saying. Come on. Let me help you with that." Lhan motioned for her to give the sack to him.
The Raft was one of the largest sea people settlements in the Northern Ocean. It was comprised of roughly five hundred boats that were lashed together into one floating mass. Four giant anchors, actually wrecked vessels, had been sunk into the seabed to keep it in one place. Whenever a large squall or storm stirred up the sea, the Raft would disassemble; every individual boat would drift away to ride out the storm. Once the danger passed, the makeshift colony would reassemble around the anchor lines, spreading outwards from the docks. The floating island was always changing form – evolving like a superorganism to better survive the chaos of the open ocean.
