The navigator, p.35
The Navigator, page 35
"There are some seas that are not meant to be crossed. Seas which men are not meant to sail. All nomads know that, Hesperian. Khan Rho once sailed upon one of those un-crossable seas - the Dead Ocean - and he wound up with a curse upon him. I feel our fate will be much worse if we continue."
"Petal? You think that Petal's cursed?"
"No. But she is a curse on Rho."
"Screw Rho. He's a heartless, insensitive prick. What kind of man hates his own daughter?"
"He doesn't hate Petal. He's always feared her."
"What?"
"Rho was not meant to find Petal. His addiction to the drink, the death of his son, the loss of his fleet – all were punishments for disturbing her. He put everything out of balance by taking Petal off her atoll. If we cross that barrier, I fear we will do the same."
"Petal would have died if Rho hadn't saved her." Quill shook her head. "What do you mean – out of balance?"
"Petal is supposed to reach the hidden land, but we aren't. That fog is death. The living cannot cross it. That is the end of our world."
"That fog is made of dust and snow. It's just a meteorological phenomenon. Cold polar air meeting warmer ocean air. It's an anomaly but it's not supernatural. This isn't the time to get superstitious or go off the deep end."
"You're a smart girl, Quill, yet you're also a fool. Look at that fog with your eyes, not your mind. We are not meant to be here."
"So you just want to turn back?"
"No. . .We have to make things right – put it all back into balance. That is why I came here. Petal needs to reach the hidden land – we do not. We cannot. We won't reach it. It's impossible."
"How can she reach it without us? You want to throw her overboard?"
"When the time comes, we must be prepared to do what's right – what's necessary – even if it seems heartless. I fear that you will be unable to do that. You will try to do something foolish. . ."
"What are you talking about, Atalai?" Quill backed away from him. "Is this why you told Petal about Amanahora? You think she should be dead? You - you want to kill her?"
"I was trying to prepare her for what is to come. She's not a part of this world, and we're not a part of hers. We must return her to the fog and then leave this place. And we must never come back here."
"You've lost it," Quill crept back toward the port hatch. Before she went inside the ship, she shouted at him. "Stay the fuck away from me and Petal! Got it? If you so much as touch her, I swear to God, I will kill you!"
Quill slammed the hatch shut.
***
Petal shifted in bed. She'd been lying awake, ever since her dream the night before. The image of the thick haze and the man floating under the sea haunted her. She sneezed. Because of her illness, her body was never at a comfortable temperature. When she was under her covers she'd feel boiling hot, but the second she removed them, her teeth would chatter.
Slowly, she sat up. Her body was sore from lying around for weeks. Her head, however, felt a little better, and her joints didn't throb as much as before. She decided to try to get up and walk around to quell her anxiety and boredom.
Petal carefully stood up and walked over to her closet. She hadn't walked anywhere besides to the bathroom in days, and her legs felt weak. She pushed the closet door aside and peered into its interior.
Most of the closet was full of Quill's clothes. Petal never had much of a wardrobe. Since she'd fallen ill before having to switch to polar gear, she'd never gotten herself an appropriate jacket from the ship's lower storage.
Petal's teeth chattered. Her thin nightdress was no protection from the frigid air that was constantly seeping through the cabin walls. She fumbled through the rack of clothes, but found nothing appropriate for the bone-chilling weather. Since she had nothing of her own to wear, she snatched up some of Quill's clothes and tried them on: a thick pair of jeans, a woolen sweater, and a nylon and goose-down jacket. Quill was a head taller than Petal and outweighed her by almost forty pounds. The sleeves on her sweater and jacket ran well past Petal's hands. The pants draped around her waist, and the cuffs curled up on the floor.
She looked like a toddler playing dress up in her mother's clothing.
Petal folded over the extra-long sleeves, and rolled up the pant cuffs. She grabbed one of Quill's belts and had to tie it in a knot to fasten it around her thin waist. She then pulled on her boots and waddled out of the cabin.
- 58 -
"Moz! Are you ready?"
Derrik was standing on the starboard side of the ship, next to a large crowd of crewmen. Floating just a few feet below him, next to the Polar Wanderer, was a little dinghy – one of two small boats meant to ferry the crew ashore to the hidden continent.
Moz and two other Syracusian crewmen were inside the dinghy. They'd just been lowered into the water, a few hundred feet away from the mysterious fog. Their little boat rocked back and forth in the choppy sea. The wind was beginning to howl, and it was starting to stir up the water.
"Give me a second!" Moz hollered back. He and the other crewmen readied their oars.
Moz reached up and untied the two thick ropes that had been used to lower the little boat down from the side of the Polar Wanderer.
Quill nudged her way closer to the side rail. She, Giovanni, and Atalai had come out to watch the dinghy attempt to row its way through the polar ice fog.
"Okay! We're all set!" Moz shouted. "Just throw us a tow line so we can find our way back!"
Derrik nodded to him from the main deck. He then gestured to a pair of crewmen who were standing beside him. They darted away, searching for a rope to throw to the dinghy.
The wind began to pick up. The sky above the two vessels was growing darker with thunderheads.
Giovanni was standing on the bow of the Polar Wanderer, watching the sky. He glanced down at the little dinghy and then at the fog. He walked over to Derrik and coughed to get his attention.
"What is it old man?"
"The weather appears to be taking a turn for the worse. I don't think they'll be safe in that boat for much longer. We should just take the Polar Wanderer through the fog before conditions become miserable."
"I told you - I'm not going through that fog until I know it's safe. This is a trial run. If the dinghy can make it through and back, then we'll take the ship in."
The Polar Wanderer began to rock steeply from the waves and the wind.
"We're wasting time. The sea was calm all afternoon. The weather patterns here are chaotic. We shouldn't waste what chance we have to sail through the fog in good weather."
"We'll do as I see fit," Derrik snapped. He scanned the main deck. "Atta! Locke! Where's that tow line?"
"Got it!" One of the crewmen scrambled over to Derrik, holding a massive coil of yellow rope.
Quill watched Derrik and the crewman carefully lower one end of the rope down to the dinghy. That meager tether would be the dinghy's only life line. She looked up and glanced across the deck of the Polar Wanderer, puckering her face when she saw Atalai.
Atalai was standing near the stern of the ship, far away from everyone else. He wasn't paying attention to the dinghy experiment. His attention was fixed on the wall of ice fog. He was staring at it as if he was trying to figure it out; as if it was an abstract painting.
A side hatch popped open on the ship. Quill turned to see a little shape shamble out of it, onto the main deck. It looked like a miniature vagabond.
"The little one stirs!" Giovanni grinned. "And not a moment too soon. It is good to see you child!"
Petal smiled at Giovanni and then looked out at the fog. The site of the swirling, yellow cloud made her stop in her tracks.
"Petal, what are you doing?" Quill grabbed Petal's shoulders like a chiding mother. "Why did you come out here? It's freezing! You should be in bed."
"I was bored. And nobody's around inside the ship. I wanted some sunlight. It's always so dark down there."
Quill studied Petal with an amused smirk. She looked ridiculous in her oversized, baggy clothing.
"What is that?" Petal pointed to the fog.
"A fog bank." Quill rubbed Petal's jacket to try and keep her warm. "The hidden land should be just past it."
Petal took a step closer to the side rail. She looked down into the dinghy. The small boat was about ten feet long and four feet wide. Three, bowed, wooden beams arched over the top of the boat. In rough weather, a thick sheet of canvas could be stretched across them to help protect its occupants from large swells.
"What are they doing?"
"They're going to go through the fog to try and see if they can catch sight of the hidden land."
"Step back from the rail," Derrik barked. "You don't want to wind up like Kodzick."
The girls moved out of the way, and Derrik fed one end of the tow line into a large pulley that dangled from the ship's crane. Once it was secure, another crewman maneuvered the crane so the tow line hung over the starboard side of the vessel.
"Still ready down here!" Moz shouted. His dinghy was already beginning to drift toward the fog. "Just waiting for you guys!"
Derrik held up one finger, signaling for Moz to hold his position.
"Is the crane ready?"
"Yeah." The crewmen operating the hydraulics swiveled the crane arm back and forth.
Derrik adjusted the pulley at the end of it. He watched the tow line sway in the wind.
"Is the tow line secure?"
A crewman reached over the side of the ship and tested it.
"All set."
"How's the weather look?" Derrik turned to Giovanni.
Giovanni looked up at the brooding sky.
"I told you – it's deteriorating. You better do this soon."
Derrik nodded. "You're clear to go!"
Moz and the other men in the dinghy picked up their oars. As the crew on the Polar Wanderer inched toward the side of the ship to get a good look, Moz and his men began to row their boat straight into the fog line.
Quill and Petal watched the dinghy bob up and down in the chaotic sea. Quill's heartbeat quickened the closer the little boat got to the fog. Soon the dinghy vanished inside of the swirling, yellow cloud. All she could see of it was the tow line that tethered the boat to the Polar Wanderer. The line was lax at the moment. Several large loops had formed in it. They lazily writhed back and forth as the dinghy pulled them across the wave tops.
Petal turned away from the ship side to sneeze. After she did, she noticed Atalai standing by the stern. He waved to her.
"Atalai!"
Petal began to walk toward him.
Quill grabbed her jacket and pulled her back.
"Owww – what are you doing?"
"Atalai's acting really weird right now. I want you to stay away from him."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"He's acting crazy. Maybe he has cabin fever. Just stay away from him."
"Okay?" Petal took another look at Atalai. He looked normal to her.
Atalai turned his attention back to the fog bank.
Quill pressed her body into Petal's back to try and guard her from the wind. She looked down and watched the lonely tow line stiffen and slacken. There was no indication as to what was going on at the other end of it.
The dinghy remained veiled behind the fog.
Derrik walked up to the crewman operating the crane.
"How many feet of line have they gone through?"
"A hundred feet so far. Got nine hundred more before they reach the end of the rope."
After several minutes, the tow line went completely taut. The wheels in the pulley at the end of the ship's crane began to spin around madly.
"Whoa, whoa!" Derrik raced over to the winch. "What the hell?"
Something was pulling on the other end of the tow line with immense force.
"Put some tension on that line! What's going on out there?"
"Maybe it snagged!" The crewman operating the crane struggled with the hydraulic controls. "The line could have looped around an ice flow."
Quill wrapped her arms around Petal and watched the coil of rope on the main deck rapidly unravel with a sickening whistle.
"What's happening? Are the men in the boat okay?"
"They're okay. The line just hit a snag." Quill tried to sound confident. "They'll put some tension on the line and it should free itself."
The crewman on the crane pulled a lever which snapped the pulley shut, trapping the tow line. The crane shook and groaned from the tension. The entire metal lattice began to warp and sag down toward the sea.
"Shit!" Derrik felt his ship list sharply to starboard from the strain on the crane. The rivets that fastened the crane to the ship rattled and started snapping.
A frightened commotion echoed across the main deck.
Derrik screamed for the crane operator to wheel the line in, but the force at the other end of the rope didn't give an inch. It began to drag the Polar Wanderer into the fog.
Petal watched, speechless, as the ship side-slipped into the billowing, yellow cloud.
"Give the line more slack! Give it more slack! NOW!"
Derrik shoved the crane operator out of the way and grabbed the hydraulic controls. He opened the pulley and let the line go lax.
An extreme force ripped the rest of the rope out toward the fog. When the coil of rope ran out, the metal stopper on its end became wedged in the grooves on the crane's pulley. The pulley, the crane, and the rest of the ship were violently jerked to starboard.
The force of the jolt threw Quill against the side rail. She screamed and clutched Petal with one hand and the rail with the other, trying to keep herself from slipping over the ship side. Everyone else on deck had likewise been knocked down. They clawed their way back to their feet as the ship listed steeply in the icy water.
The fog was now only a few feet away from the ship. Quill and the other crewmen shuffled away from it, pressing themselves against the side of the bridge, worried that just touching the fog would kill them.
"Cut it! Cut the line!" A crewman shrieked. "Cut it now or we're dead!"
Derrik's eyes darted wildly. His chest heaved. He watched the ominous fog loom just a foot or two away. His ship was now listing at a 30 degree angle. A few more degrees and everyone on deck would fall into the sea. He rifled through his pockets until he found a knife. He began to hack at the tow line.
The line frayed and then snapped. The second it gave way, the Polar Wanderer straightened itself out, bobbing up and down violently in the water until it was able to settle on an even keel. The chaotic motion shot up two huge swells of wake and sea foam.
Everyone on deck stood still, trying to catch their breath.
The sky above rumbled with thunder.
Quill was still clutching Petal with a death grip. She was hyperventilating. Her eyes came to a rest on Atalai.
Atalai was sitting Indian-style on the main deck, eyes locked on the yellow fog. He didn't look frightened or in shock like all the other crewmen.
He looked totally at peace. Smiling.
- 59 -
Petal glared at Quill. Both girls were inside their cabin. Petal was sitting on her bed, with Quill kneeling down next to her. The cabin was bathed in dim, yellow light. Quill was dressing Petal in layer upon layer of her old, tattered clothes. All of her features were lost under the mass of ragged cloth and wool.
"I don't want to wear all of these," Petal whined. "When I'm under the blankets, they make me too hot. I'm sick of sweating all night."
"Your skin is clammy, and it feels like it's about twenty below in this cabin. You need to keep warm tonight or you'll get worse." Quill watched Petal wiggle her toes through four pairs of tube socks. "Are you okay otherwise? Are you scared?"
"No. What happened to the little boat? Have they found it yet?"
"I don't know."
Quill began to put Petal's extra clothes back into their shared closet.
Petal squirmed. She felt like a turtle covered in ten soft layers of body armor.
"Are the men who were on it dead?"
"I don't know."
Quill's hands were shaking. She was still in shock from what happened earlier. She hid her hands and draped the extra pants and shirts onto hangers.
Petal stood up. She wobbled from the ship's motion and her own dizziness.
"What are we going to do now? When are we going to make landfall? "
