Seaswept (Seabound Chronicles Book 2) (6 page)

Chapter 7—The
Amsterdam Coalition

The sky was in
revolt as they closed in on the
Amsterdam Coalition
. After months of nostalgic blue, the atmosphere
had coughed up some of the volcanic ash they thought had dissipated. Purple and
vermilion mixed with angry, dark streaks as the
Catalina
approached the flat iron lines of the
Amsterdam
.

“It’s kinda ugly,”
said Toni, stepping up beside Esther at the foredeck railing. Toni had worked
with Zoe and Anita on the
Galaxy Flotilla
.
She was tall and lanky, with dark skin and close-cropped hair.

“I love it,”
Esther said. She leaned forward over the railing, the wind sharp on her cheeks.

The oil platform
rose like an insect out of the sea, a handful of ships clustered around it. The
rusty iron and pockmarked concrete of the structure were alive with activity.
The rig had stopped extracting oil from the seafloor five years ago, but by
then it had become such an important trading hub for the seabound survivors
that people kept coming. Visitors would dock for a week or two, giving them
enough time to trade their salvage for fuel and whatever they couldn’t make for
themselves. They’d also catch up on the news of the world, such as it was.

The rig boss
strictly regulated the docks so that no one would stick around for too long.
Located above a blighted reef, the
Amsterdam
couldn’t sustain a huge population. It always had to make room for more trade
and more ships, except for a handful of cargo ships that moored permanently at
the platform. Their captains and the rig boss were the final authority on the
value of the fuel, metal, and sustenance that circulated through their decks.
Together, the platform and cargo ships made up the
Amsterdam Coalition
.

After the
Catalina
’s run-in with the
Galaxy Flotilla
, with its massive cruise
ships and gigantic tankers, the
Amsterdam
looked small. Compared to the floating city, it was a measly trading outpost.
But Esther still felt a thrill of excitement. Going to the
Amsterdam
was their only real holiday.

The
Catalina
chugged toward its usual
mooring at the northern end. The water was choppy, making it look like the oil
platform was pitching back and forth in the sea. There were a few ships in port
that Esther didn’t recognize. The
Catalina
slowed and drifted to a stop at the edge of the platform, the decks nearly
level. The crew tossed lines to the rig boss reps and prepared the seldom-used
gangway. As soon as Judith registered the
Catalina
’s
arrival, they would be free to explore.

“There’s Zoe and
Anita,” Toni said. “Are you coming with us to check out the vacancies on other
ships?”

“I have to pick up
a few parts today,” Esther said.

“But it’ll be so
much fun to meet the crews!”

Esther studied the
insignia on an old warship nearby, a red crab inside a black octagon. The paint
covered the national flag of whatever defunct navy the ship came from. It
would
be fun to explore the other ships,
even if she couldn’t leave the
Catalina
yet. But she had already promised to show Cally the ropes.

“I’ll come
tomorrow if you guys are still around.”

“All right,” Toni
said. “See you later.”

She went to join
Anita and Zoe in the bow. They were eager to move on. The
Catalina
wasn’t nearly exciting enough for them now that it didn’t
need to be rescued anymore.

Esther felt a stab
of regret. She didn’t want to lose her new friends. And then there was David.
He had been busy sailing the
Lucinda
since
the journey to the
Amsterdam
began.
She had missed his presence in the Mermaid Lounge. She didn’t understand why
she cared so much. They’d worked well together during the rescue of the
Catalina
, but they were too different.

The deck bustled
with Catalinans eager to do business with the
Amsterdam
. Cally’s mother, Constance, and her team of assistant
seamstresses carried finished garments they planned to sell in the bazaar in
exchange for harder-to-find fabrics and leather. Byron, the former
Galaxy
water taxi driver, followed them
with a long list of sundries he’d pick up if the prices were good. He was the
only member of the
Galaxy
who seemed
to fit in effortlessly on the
Catalina
. He and his family would stay at
least.

Esther turned back
to the railing. The
Lucinda
sliced easily
through the water between the
Catalina
and the ship with the red crab and glided up to the oil platform. She was a
beautiful vessel, a fast Cyclone-class patrol ship built by the US Navy before
the disaster struck. She had quickly become David’s pride and joy.

Esther couldn’t
see David from here, but she imagined him double-checking the control panel in
the pilothouse before locking it up tight. He was proving to be a skilled
sailor. He’d have no trouble going his own way in that ship after she installed
her biofuel system. He didn’t need the
Catalina
after all. He hadn’t broached the subject of her accompanying him since the
final engine test. In fact, he’d barely spoken to her. He had been polite and
formal when they’d passed in the dining hall the day before. It was almost like
he was mad at her.

She shook off a
twinge of irritation and made her way toward a patch of bright-red hair
sticking above the throng on the
Catalina
’s
deck. Cally had experienced yet another growth spurt recently. She looked more
grown up every day, though she still bounced on her heels like a little girl.

“Esther! There you
are! Are you ready for this?”

“It’s my favorite
time of year,” Esther said.

“I can’t wait to
explore! Mom didn’t let me see
anything
last year. Thought I’d fall off
a rigging or something.”

“We’re still not
climbing any riggings. We need to pick up some new cables first. I’ll show you
the best shops.”

Esther usually did
a little trading of her own at the
Amsterdam
.
She’d pick up a few things while waiting for word on the sale of the separator
designs.

Dirk stood by the
gangway with Judith and Manny. He towered over Judith—who was not a short
woman—bulky arms crossed. They were holding a barely civil conversation,
while Manny looked anxiously between them. It had been agreed that Judith and
Dirk would handle the large-scale trading together, but they would delay any
major transactions until after David had auctioned off Esther’s energy
technology. She wondered if he’d be able to pull it off.

“Did you hear me,
Esther?” Cally tapped her foot impatiently, interrupting Esther’s study of the
trio by the gangway. “I asked if Dax can come with us.”

“Hmm? Oh, sure. As
long as he stays out of trouble.”

“Great! I’ll go
get him. Wait for me!”

“Hang on, Cally. I
forgot to mention: you can’t talk about how to make my separator system with
anyone, okay? Hawthorne is planning to sell it. He’s going to do all the talking.”

“Sure, sure. Be
right back!”

Cally skipped back
into the crowd in search of her boyfriend, Dax, who was apparently back in her
good graces.

Returning to the
railing, Esther let the sounds of the
Amsterdam
Coalition
surround her. Shouts from deck to deck, the grinding of
machinery, the inexorable rush of water against hulls and pilings. A speedboat
sputtered up to the oil platform between the bigger vessels. Other ships were arranged
haphazardly around the structure, their faded paint jobs and windmills
protruding at odd angles giving the assembly a ragtag feeling. The gathering
might be smaller and less impressive than the
Galaxy Flotilla
, but it was good to be back.

After a few
minutes Cally returned, tugging Dax by the arm. They were the same height now.
Dax’s spiky black hair had grown longer, making him look even more like a sea
urchin.

“Hey, Esther,” he
said. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”

“Been busy. How’s
the new crew?”

“Not bad. It’s a
lot more work than Guest Services ever was.”

Dax had joined the
galley crew, and he was proving to be a decent cook. He was particularly good
at making fermented kelp more palatable.

“Where’s Neal?” he
asked.

“No idea. Probably
brooding in the Tower.”

“I can’t believe
he’d miss the
Amsterdam
!” Dax said,
tugging on one of the spikes in his hair. “I’ve heard so many stories about it.
I’m pretty excited.”

Esther laughed.
“You’re in for a treat.”

The three of them
made their way down to the main deck, where the gangway rested. Esther caught
sight of her father and Penelope walking arm in arm. They looked like they were
out for a long walk on the beach. Esther grimaced and quickly pulled Cally and
Dax across to the dock.

Judith had planted
herself by the gangway and was making everyone sign a shell with squid ink and
drop it into a bucket so she could keep track of all the comings and goings.
She wore a scowl, like a shark in a net.

“Return by
sundown. Do you understand, Esther?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“After what
happened on the
Galaxy
,
we can’t risk losing anyone.”

“If you guys
hadn’t stayed behind, we’d all be dead!” Cally whispered indignantly.

“It’s fine, Cally.
This is a good idea,” Esther said as she bent to sign her name, resting the
shell on her knee.

Cally and Dax
followed her lead. Esther looked over at the
Lucinda
. David stood in front of it on the dock, shaking hands with
a stranger from the Coalition. Rig officials wore a braid on their shoulders to
indicate their station. David gestured broadly, perhaps already in the middle
of a sales pitch for the revolutionary new energy system.

“What do you think
Hawthorne is up to?” Dax asked. “Do you reckon he’ll join the
Amsterdam
?”

“He’d make a good
rig official, wouldn’t he?” Cally said.

Esther tossed the
shell with her name into the bucket a little too hard. Cally didn’t know about
Esther’s history with David.

“I don’t know what
he’s doing,” Esther said. “Judith, are you having the
Lucinda
crew sign shells too?”

“Why would I? I’m
sure Hawthorne can find his own way back to his ship.”

“I wasn’t just
talking about him,” Esther mumbled.

“The Galaxians can
do what they want. The sooner they go their own way, the better.”

Judith waved them
along and handed a shell and ink pen to Bernadette, who had stepped lightly off
the bridge behind them.

David was being
introduced to a second Coalition official. He made a joke and clapped the
official on the shoulder like they were old friends. Esther’s stomach sank.
They’d be parting ways here, she realized. David would sell her plans, and then
he’d be gone.

“Where do we go
first?” Cally said, tossing her shell into the bucket with a clink. “Come
on
,
Dax
.
How long does
it take to write your name?”

Esther
nodded at Judith and turned toward the entrance, which gaped like a wound in
the belly of the iron rig. She wouldn’t let David Hawthorne ruin this visit to
her favorite place. That man made her feel like a sailboat in a whirlwind, but
she would enjoy herself today no matter what.

Chapter 8—
Amsterdam
Bazaar

Cally led the way,
nearly skipping across the platform, and they headed
into the oil rig. Voices clanged against the walls, competing with the dimming
sounds of the sea behind them. The smell of oil seeped from the concrete. The
passageway was short, and soon they were stepping into the brightly lit cavern
of the
Amsterdam
Bazaar.

Once, it had been
the workers’ quarters, located next to the main drill floor, but the interior
walls had been removed to create a pockmarked expanse, which was filled with
the din of commerce. Most ships only stayed at the
Amsterdam
for a week or two, so the bazaar was an ever-changing tumult
of frantic deal making, swindling, and gossip. Someone somewhere was playing a
saxophone, the notes adding to the cacophony of the bazaar.

“Wow,” Dax said.
“What a mess.”

“You’ll get the
hang of it,” Esther said, clapping him on the back.

They pushed their
way through the grungy crowd down the nearest aisle. A woman selling handmade
dyes displayed a multitude of colorful fabrics laid across a fat pipe. Jars of
dye hung from cords around her neck. She was trying to sell an iridescent
purple to a customer.

“Got it from a
rare sea anemone. Had to go in close to the blasted shore to grab it. You won’t
find this shade anywhere,” she said.

A boy with
enormous glasses and a shaved head hawked watercolor paintings of “the wonders
of the old world. You can hang your memories in your cabin forever!” He was
young enough not to have any memories of the old world of his own. Bernadette,
the resident artist from the
Catalina
,
stopped to speak to the child. A man with one leg and only four fingers between
his two hands shook a dented bucket full of small bolts and washers at them.
The rattle of metal was lost in the chatter of the bazaar. Weathered seafarers
crowded around dice games on the floor. Groups of women leaned close and
shouted in each other’s ears about lost relations. At one table, a skinny girl
with a scarred face offered single-page sheets of news gathered from across the
sea. The headline screamed “Calderon Group Faces Scrutiny after Sinking of
Blue Paradise
.” Gossip flowed freely
through the shoppers.

“You need some
cord cables, girl?” A woman with a braid like a steel bar stepped into Esther’s
path. She wore thick red galoshes and a smile.

“Rachel! You
remembered.”

Esther gave the
woman a hug. Her bones felt sharper, her flesh looser than the last time Esther
had seen her.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll
never forget how salt scared you were when you came round to my table asking
for
cords, I mean cables, er, cord cables
all those years ago. My boy gave you such grief! I thought you’d bash his
head in with your sharp little fists. A pint-sized pile driver, he called you.”

Esther smiled at
the memory. “I was terrified, but I wasn’t going to let him make fun of me.”

“He was a little
bastard, make no mistake.” Rachel chuckled, and spidery lines stretched out
from her eyes likes spikes on a gear. “What’re you here for?”

“I do need cables
actually. T-7s with octagonal links, if you have any.”

“Sure thing.
Who’re your friends?”

“This is my
apprentice, Cally, and her boyfriend, Dax.”

“You have an
apprentice now? Well if that don’t make me feel old.”

Rachel led the way
through the crowd toward an alcove by the far wall. Her walk was slower than in
years past, but she still stood tall above the crowd. She showed Esther an
array of cable coils, while Cally picked through a box of miscellaneous
washers. Dax trailed behind her like a string of bubbles, occasionally poking
at items hanging around the alcove.

“Where is your son
anyway?” Esther asked Rachel. “Getting himself into trouble?”

“Oh, Luke has been
getting into trouble all right, but it’s not the usual sort. He works for the
Metal Harvesters now. Their recruiters won him over with their promises of adventure.”

“What do they do?”

“The Harvesters?
Oh, they collect salvaged metal from abandoned ships and the like to sell here
at the
Amsterdam
. Sometimes they even
sail into shallow water to pull up wrecks. They have quite a few ships now.”

“Really? Sounds
like a decent gig.”

Esther wondered
how Zoe, Toni, and Anita would take to salvaging metal. She’d have to mention
the Harvesters to them.

“Maybe,” Rachel
said, “but they keep getting into spats with the Calderon Group. I barely see
Luke anymore.”

“What’s the
Calderon Group? More salvagers?”

“Mercenaries.
Pirates, if you ask me. They hire themselves out for supply runs, dispute
resolutions, that sort of thing. Rumor has it they’ve taken to attacking ships
outright. They’ll do whatever it takes to increase their purchasing power, so
to speak. It’s getting bad.”

“What do they
want?”

“What else? Oil.
Cash. We’re not all focused on survival anymore.”

“Can’t the
Amsterdam
cut them off if they’re
causing trouble?” Esther asked.

“Half the
Coalition officials are in their back pocket, and we don’t have the firepower
to keep them away. The only thing that keeps them under control is their need
for fuel. They still gotta check in every once in a while. They’re not exactly
known for being frugal with their reserves.” Rachel pulled a heavy coil from a
bin at the back of her alcove. “Ah, here’s the T-7. Will it do?”

“This is exactly
what I need.” Esther measured out a length of the cable. “Do you think the
Catalina
is in any danger from this
Calderon Group?”

The
Amsterdam
had always been a hotbed for
privateer types. It was one of the reasons Judith hadn’t wanted to meet up with
them. She didn’t trust anyone outside the
Catalina
.

“Not likely. You
don’t have much of value, unless your circumstances have changed significantly
since your last docking.” Rachel settled on a stool beside a rack of wrenches.

Esther avoided her
eyes. “No, I guess you’re right.” She was suddenly very conscious of her algae
oil extraction plans scratched in the floor of the bowling alley, not to
mention the completed separator, which had allowed them to sail here without
using up any diesel. Nothing of value indeed.

Esther and Rachel
completed their trade: all the cable she needed in exchange for a leftover
desalination filter that was too small for their own system. Esther said
good-bye to Rachel and promised to come back for another visit before they
sailed. Cally and Dax had wandered off. Mildly irritated, Esther pushed through
the crowd after them. They could get into all kinds of trouble here. There was
no sign of them, and she couldn’t see very far past the rough-clad clientele.
If only she were taller!

“The end of our
tribulation is near!” An old man with red depressions around his eyes stepped
into her path. “Seven times three! The number of completion times the number of
God! Twenty-one years. I found the formula hidden in the ancient words.” He brandished
a warped piece of plywood tacked with disintegrating pages from a Bible. “The
end of our tribulation is near!”

Esther shifted the
coil of cable further up on her shoulder and dodged around the man. People
jostled her, and she pushed toward the edge of the market, where she hoped to
get a better view.

She broke through
the crowd near the passageway leading to the main drill floor and ended up by
the Rusty Nail, a bar catering to the seafarers, crewmen, and nomads who made
their way through the
Amsterdam
Bazaar.
The bar itself was made of corrugated shipping-container steel in a random
assortment of colors. People used the empty oil barrels arrayed in front of the
bar as drinks tables. Alcohol was expensive, but the Rusty Nail was the perfect
place to gather information. David had chosen this as his theater to share the
news of Esther’s newfound energy source.

She found him
leaning against the bar, surrounded by a rough-looking contingent of traders.
He didn’t acknowledge her when she stopped at the edge of the crowd. He was too
busy orating.

“. . . change our
life as we know it at sea. The owner of this technology could sell the biofuel
or keep it and dominate all the competition. This is worth more than my weight
in oil, if you know what I mean.”

“How do we know
your system will work?” said a bearded man hovering behind David at the bar. He
wore strange earrings that stretched his earlobes so much, a wrench could fit
through the hole.

“Trust me. With my
system you’ll be so prosperous you’ll look back and laugh for ever questioning
me.” David raised his glass to the man. “You don’t want to miss out on this
auction, my friend. This one’s a game changer.”

“Let me buy you a
drink and you can tell me more about how it works.” The man waved a sun-darkened
hand toward the bar. He was missing his ring finger.

“I can’t give away
my secrets before they’re sold, but I will take you up on that drink,” David
said.

Esther shook her
head as David continued to extol the virtues of her energy system to the
growing crowd. She’d be glad when this was all over.

A tall,
copper-haired woman stood near the man with the holes in his ears. Esther did
not like the way she was looking at David. There was something predatory about
her, like a lionfish. The woman leaned in to ask him a question, letting her
hand play along the soft fabric of David’s sweater. She stayed close, listening
raptly to David’s every word. Was he smiling at her more than his other
listeners?

Esther realized
she was trying to stand a little taller. David still hadn’t acknowledged her,
but he was certainly keeping everyone’s interest. Especially that woman’s.
Abruptly, Esther turned and walked away. David didn’t need her help. She didn’t
feel like watching people fawn over him, and she would
not
compete for his attention. They had been through a lot
together. He had no right to ignore her.

The sight of
David’s sales pitch had soured her enthusiasm for the
Amsterdam
Bazaar—and that made her even more annoyed. She
wanted to believe that she had shared something special with David, that the
risk she had taken in pulling him close that night on the
Galaxy
Mist
had been
worth it. For all she knew, he was the New Pacific’s biggest player. On the
other hand, she knew he could be gentle, that he could speak with a different
voice than his smooth salesman’s tone. And she remembered the look of utter
determination on his face when he sailed the
Lucinda
away from the
Galaxy
in search of the
Catalina
, despite
the bullet wound spreading smears of red down his arm.

Esther shifted the
metal coil up to her shoulder and ducked down an aisle lined with hagglers and
hanging bits of flotsam and jetsam. She turned a corner around a stack of
cracked rubber tires and bumped into a young man wearing a faded “
Catalina
: Your Island at Sea” T-shirt.

“Neal! How’s it
going?”

“Okay,” he said.
He had a hunk of plastic tucked under his arm with wires trailing out of it.
“What’s up with the separator stuff?”

“Hawthorne is
hawking it as we speak,” Esther said. “Want to head to the canteen with me?”

“Sorry,” Neal
said. “I still have a few people to see. Catch you later.”

Esther sighed as
he wandered back into the crowd, his shoulders hunched and his step missing a
spring. She hoped his moping phase would be over soon. It would probably be
easier on him if Marianna weren’t the one spearheading the effort to restore
worldwide communication via the satellite network, spreading her pretty voice
across the airwaves.

Needing a better
vantage point, Esther climbed partway up the stack of cracked tires and
surveyed the crowd. There was still no sign of Cally and Dax. She couldn’t see
Zoe and her friends either. She was surprised to feel a bit lonely despite the
crowds. She wished she had gone with her friends after all. For a moment she
almost went back to the Rusty Nail to join David. He stood out even from this
distance. Something about his white-blond hair made him look cleaner and newer
than everyone around him. Salt, why did she just want to stare at him
sometimes?

“Hey! Get down
from there!” shouted the tire shopkeeper. His outfit looked like it was mostly
constructed from tire rubber too.

“Sorry.” Esther
jumped off the stack.

“If yer buying,
you can climb all you want,” said the tire man. “Yeh can build a whole raft out
of these babies.”

“No, thanks,”
Esther said.

Tires were
surprisingly easy to come by, at least the ones that still floated well enough
to be useful. But she was distracted by the smells wafting from a far corner of
the bazaar. She dove into the crowd again and made her way toward the canteen.

I’ll talk to David tonight
, she thought.
We
can’t keep ignoring each other, and it’s time we clarified a thing or two.