Seabound (Seabound Chronicles Book 1) (13 page)

“That isn’t
exactly what I meant, but I’m sure we’ll gather some ideas. This watering
system, for instance, is rather ingenious, don’t you think? You could build something
like this.”

“Yeah, if we had
any living plants.”

They had nearly
reached the end of the fields, where a large water tank fed a system of pipes
spread along the edges of the soil. Esther watched a worker turn on the system
and start to sprinkle pure water across the dirt. She wondered which desal
method they used for the gardening water.

“I think the
greater benefit,” Simon said, “is that this encounter allows us to assess the
way we relate to each other. From what I can tell, the
Galaxy
has
developed a number of subcultures. They are all connected, but there is a
separation between the groups that goes deeper than loyalty to a dominant
personality. I would very much like to spend some time studying the subcultures.
The artistic community on the
Emerald
, the people who work manual jobs,
the apparent aristocracy of the
Galaxy Crown
. We have our own subcultures
on the
Catalina
, but we are united in our own way. We treat each other
as equals, even when we don’t like someone much.”

“Except for
Judith.”

Esther looked over
at where Judith was conversing with David Hawthorne, or rather, where she was
glowering at him, arms crossed, while he delivered a polished oration. As he
spoke, he happened to glance their way and cocked an eyebrow at Esther. She
dropped her gaze.

“Judith has never
put herself above others,” Simon said, “not in the way I mean. She has a
single-minded certainty that she is the very best person to lead the
Catalina
. She may be didactic, but it’s
a simple matter of knowing her capabilities and acting accordingly.”

“I don’t know why
you’ve forgiven her so easily,” Esther said. For her, the situation had been
very clear: her dad had been a benevolent leader who put together a fair and
equal system, and Judith usurped him.

“Contrary to the
rumors,” Simon said, “I’ve never wanted to rule the
Catalina
. I was the
right person for the job while we were getting organized. But now I suppose
Judith is right about her suitability for keeping us in line. The council
wasn’t working like it was supposed to anyway when she stepped up.”

“If Judith is so
good at her job,” Esther said, “I wish she’d get us into some trade
discussions. That’s what we really need.”

Esther snuck a
look at the pair again. This time David Hawthorne didn’t see her.

“There’s plenty of
time. I wouldn’t worry. You should enjoy yourself. Explore. Make some friends.
Learn some new tricks. This will be good for—”

Suddenly a
commotion broke out back by the greenhouse. Several of the field workers were
shouting, their words indistinct. The tour group turned to see that the three
women who’d been working with the young plants had climbed on top of the greenhouse.

“Stop the lies!
Equality for all! Stop the lies! Equality for all!”

The blond woman
had tied a long strip of cloth around her forehead and she was shouting slogans
through a tube of plastic to amplify her voice.

Esther stared,
transfixed, as the girl paced back and forth across the greenhouse.

“Where are the
vegetables? Where is the oil? The captains are scum! Equality for all!”

Together, the
other two women unfurled a large flag. It bore the Galaxy Cruises
insignia of a field of starfish. The
word “Cruises” had been crossed out and “of thieves” was scrawled across the
bottom in bright orange letters.

“Galaxy of
thieves? What does that mean?” Esther said.

Simon shook his
head, watching the protest with a frown on his face.

The three women
chanted together: “Where are the vegetables? Where is the oil?”

Their tour guide
had recovered by now. “Oh, don’t worry about that. We’d better get back to the
ferry. Quickly now, move along.” She flapped her arms like a seal waving its
flippers and ushered them toward the ladder. “We’ll be late for your next tour.
Come on now.”

Reluctantly, the
Catalinans began filing down the ladder to the platform below. Esther slipped
around the woman, still trying to see what was going on by the greenhouse. Five
men in matching uniforms ran toward it. They scaled the wall quickly and ripped
the banner away from the two women. The blond danced out of their reach, still
screaming slogans into her plastic tube.

“Equality for all!
Where are the vegetables?”

Jane, the tour
guide, was insistent now, actually taking Esther’s arm and propelling her
toward the ladder. Esther looked around for Judith, but Hawthorne had whisked
her away already. Had she seen what was going on? As the guide forced Esther down
the ladder, trying to push her head beneath the level of the deck with her
pudgy hands, Esther saw one of the men punch the blond girl in the mouth,
knocking her down.

Esther was shaking
by the time she reached the bobbing platform in the shadow of the gardening
ship.

“What was that
about?” she asked the guide.

“Oh that?” Jane’s
face remained impassive, except for a slight tic in her cheek. “That was
nothing. Just Zoe. She’s a little unbalanced. Nothing to worry about at all.”

“What did she mean
about the vegetables and oil?”

“It’s nonsense,
I’m sure. Oh, here’s your ferry. Good-bye! Thank you for visiting the
Galaxy
Gardens. Do come again.”

And with that she
scrambled back up the ladder before anyone could ask more questions.

Esther sat heavily
beside her father. They exchanged looks, but neither knew what to say. It was
like a dark shadow had been cast over the flotilla.
That was very strange.
The ferry lurched and sped away from the
gardening ship, returning them to the sleek corridors of the
Emerald
as quickly as possible.

Chapter 14—Judith

Esther tried to follow
Simon’s advice to learn more about the
Galaxy
,
more confused by the place than ever after what they’d witnessed on the
gardening ship. When she finished her maintenance duties on the
Catalina
each day, she would cross the bridge to the
Emerald
and wander through
the flotilla. Occasionally, she’d take the water taxis across to the projects
on the cargo ships.

Once, she walked
down to the engine room of the
Emerald
,
but a uniformed guard headed her off at the stairwell and told her it was
off-limits to visitors. She was disappointed. She wanted ideas that would
enhance her own work, but it was clear that the guest services did not extend
to providing that kind of information. Everyone’s answers to her queries were
completely polite, of course, but she made no headway. She still felt the
damaged desal system like an open wound. She couldn’t fully enjoy anything
until it had healed.

Esther struck up a
friendship with Byron, the water taxi skipper, and plied him with questions.
Unlike the Guest Services people, he wasn’t trying to impress her. He described
a
Galaxy
that was a bit less
harmonious than it appeared. There was dissent. Not everyone was happy to be
relegated to bilge work and fishing duty when some people were living in luxury
on the
Galaxy
Crown
. That girl, Zoe, must not have been as unbalanced as the tour
guide made her sound. What had happened to her?

By the end of the
first week with the
Flotilla
, the
Catalinans were starting to get used to the
Galaxy
way of life. Adele and the rest of the Guest Services guides were always ready
with food, water, and entertainment. Bernadette mumbled about their “used-car
salesman” attitude, though Esther didn’t know what that meant. Some Catalinans
had taken to wearing
Galaxy
-style
clothes. Gracie Cordova had acquired a pair of high heels, and she tottered
around the decks in them like a baby stork.

Judith had been
ushered to dinner after dinner with the ship captains. She was always invited
alone and returned looking uncomfortably intoxicated and frustrated. Esther
asked her about trade arrangements, and was rebuffed with a curt “I’m working
on it.”

A gnawing sense of
their vulnerability stayed with Esther. She wasn’t sleeping well. She felt
weary with worry over the disaster she had caused and a growing sense of unease
with the
Galaxy
. She kept track of
their time with the
Flotilla
, carving
notches into the floor of the bowling alley. The days were passing, and they
were no closer to fixing their water system, becoming self-sufficient, and
moving on.

Then, on the
eighth day since they arrived at the
Flotilla
,
Judith paid her a visit. Esther had retreated to her repair work in the desal
room, preparing the space for when they’d eventually have the filters they
needed to produce their own water again. She was on her hands and knees, sawing
through a pipe, when Judith entered.

“Esther!” she
snapped.

Esther’s hands
slipped and she narrowly avoided sawing off her finger. “Judith? What are you
doing here?” She set down her tools and stood.

Judith stayed by
the door, not venturing down the lanes. Her face looked a bit rounder than it
used to, perhaps from all the fancy dinners she had been attending, but her
lips were pinched in a thin line.

“Have you managed
to talk with anyone about trading for parts?” Judith asked.

Esther raised her
eyebrows. “No, no one will talk to
me
.
You said you were working on it.”

“Yes, well, I’d
hoped you might have made some headway. I certainly haven’t.” Judith shifted
stiffly on her feet, clearly uncomfortable with whatever she had come here to
say.

Esther wanted to
stay where she was and make Judith come to her. Judith certainly hadn’t made
any effort to make Esther feel comfortable. But as Judith stood there in the
doorway to her workspace, Esther remembered her father’s words about Judith
being good for the
Catalina
. He
didn’t seem to think Esther gave Judith enough credit, intent as she was on
maintaining the old grudge. But Simon was the one Judith had supplanted, not
Esther, and he was willing to forgive. Maybe he was right.

Esther sighed and
walked up one of the lanes to join Judith by the door. “What’s been happening
at those dinners?” she asked.

“Nothing. That’s
the problem,” Judith said. “They give me food and wine, make me sit through
interminable
violin performances, but
every time I bring up the future of the
Catalina
they put me off. ‘Let’s not talk business now. Have another drink. You must try
this abalone. There will be plenty of time to talk about the
Catalina
.’”

“It’s been more
than a week,” Esther said.

“I know. At first
I thought they just work at a different pace here and it’s all part of doing
business, but . . .”

“You think they’re
up to something?” Esther asked. She thought about the protest they’d seen on
the gardening ship.
Stop the lies. The
captains are scum.

“I don’t know,”
Judith said. “But you’ve seen how much they’ve given us already. The food and
water. The clothes. They have to be expecting something in return.” Judith frowned,
looking up the aisle of the bowling alley at where Esther’s work was
progressing.

She wasn’t wearing
Galaxy
clothes, Esther noticed.

“What are the
captains like?”

“Condescending,”
Judith said, scowling.

In spite of
herself, Esther grinned. Judith must hate being talked down to. Esther hated it
too.

“Captain Ryan is
the worst. He acts benevolent, even charming, but he hasn’t given me a straight
answer all week.”

“Why are you
telling me all this?” Esther asked.

It felt surreal to
have Judith standing in her workspace at all, much less confiding in her.

Judith sighed.
When she spoke, it was like she was pulling the words up from the very bottom
of the sea.

“I need your
help.”

Esther suddenly
imagined a jellyfish surfacing to ask for a cigarette. It was about as likely
as Judith asking her for help.

“Okay . . . what
can I do?” she said.

“You know that
David Hawthorne has been taking me on daily tours,” Judith said. “The one thing
I’ve asked to see and been flat-out denied is the oil tankers. The captains
seem to be lobbying for us to join the
Galaxy
,
but I absolutely cannot entertain the possibility if they won’t let us see such
important facilities. I want you to sneak onto one of them and find out what’s
really going on.”

Again Esther felt
that surreal sensation. Who was this, and what had she done with Judith?

“Why me?”

“You can do it,”
Judith said simply, meeting Esther’s eyes. “Also, I know you’ve been working on
developing a new generator in addition to your desal work. If you get caught,
just tell them you’re doing research. Make it sound like you didn’t know you
weren’t supposed to be on an oil tanker, but you really want to get ideas for
your experiments, and couldn’t they cut you some slack?”

Esther felt a bit
flattered that Judith knew the details of her work.

“You know I’ve
been working on a generator? Why haven’t you—?”

“It’s still a
waste of time,” Judith snapped. “But you have a disregard for authority that
will serve you well. You’ll be able to defend yourself if you get caught.
Besides, everyone knows that we’re not on good terms. I don’t want the captains
finding out that I’ve been snooping, in case things turn sour. It could put the
Catalina
in a sticky situation. If
Manny went, for example, there’s no way he’d convince anyone that he acted
alone.”

“But I could cover
for you?”

“Yes,” Judith
said. “And you will too, because it’ll be the best way to protect the
Catalina
and everyone on board.”

Esther met
Judith’s gaze. She was relieved that someone else had noticed the
inconsistencies, had noticed that everything couldn’t be as clean and easy on
the
Galaxy
as the Guest Services
people had made it sound. And it was Judith who had noticed, Judith who was
swallowing her pride to ask Esther for help. Perhaps Esther hadn’t been
entirely fair to her.

“I’ll do it,” she
said.

Judith nodded
curtly. “Good. Good. Don’t tell me the details. I’ll deny everything if you get
caught.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Judith turned and
strode from the room without another word.

Esther’s first
order of business was to get a ride. The oil tankers were not connected by
bridges to any of the other ships. She needed a boat to get out to them, and
none of the passenger ferries would take her. So she went looking for Byron,
the taxi skipper.

She flagged him
down on the pretext of arranging another visit to the gardening ship for her
dad. She stood on an
Emerald
platform
and spoke to him over the gap as passengers loaded into his taxi.

“Byron, I know
you’re not supposed to, but is there any chance you could take me over to one
of the oil tankers?”

Byron looked over
his shoulder, then started up the outboard motor of his taxi. He leaned toward
her, speaking quietly while the motor grumbled away, coughing smoke over his
passengers. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Something’s going
on there, isn’t it?” she said.

“I haven’t been
over myself, but it’s off-limits, lass. Not worth the risk.”

“What would happen
to me?”

“Look, I really
can’t talk to you about this.” Byron glanced back at his passengers again, but
they all seemed to be wrapped up in conversation. “I’ve got a daughter and a
wife. I need to provide for them. I could lose my taxi, or worse.”

“Could you at
least get me close?” Esther pressed. She was disturbed by the fear in his
voice. “I don’t mind swimming part of the way,” she said. “No one needs to see
you dropping me off.”

Byron pulled off
his tweed cap and twisted it in his hands, studying a hole near the brim.

“Oy, are we
shoving off or what?” one of the passengers shouted.

“Hold yer sea
horses. We’re going,” Byron called. “Look”—he dropped his voice so that
Esther could barely hear him—“I’m doing a commuter run tonight. Need to
get ’em back to their quarters on one of the cargo vessels, and we’ll be
sailing right by the tankers. If you can sneak onto the taxi and slip off into
the water without anyone seeing, I’ll get you close enough to swim. Be back
here at seven thirty sharp and make sure no one sees you, got it?”

Esther nodded. “Thanks.”

Byron slapped his
cap back on his head and soon he was sailing away, leaving tendrils of motor
exhaust in his wake.