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3.3 - I Don't Wanna Fight a Mermaid
🕑 Added 2023-09-19 03:20:49 +0000 UTCThe dockworkers told us the Fool's Errand had left with the morning tide. They'd been scheduled to stay a few more days, but Erid had skipped out on her docking contract, leaving her deposit behind.
Abby had a quick conversation with the dockmaster and re-emerged a few coins lighter. The monetary cost wasn't even worth mentioning—Val had worked something out with Feril's Law of Nonconservation to duplicate an arbitrary amount of drobol.
It works like this: from a certain point of view, a coin is a lump of metal like any other. From another point of view, it's a symbol of value. So the coin can be split into both of those, at which point both of them have valid translations back into the original coin. Once they're observed, they have all the semiotic properties of the original, and you can start over—one drobol richer.
So, thanks to the wizardry of our science officer, it effectively cost Abby nothing to learn that Erid was heading to the port city of Lisaeli.
Lisaeli was one of the great naval fortresses of the Imperial Coalition, the first line of defense against the Parmedi Empire to the south. It was also consecrated to Varas, which would make it a pain to sneak in and confront her. Enough of a pain, in fact, that we decided to show some of our other capabilities to force an earlier confrontation.
We found the Fool's Errand a day after they left port. I was manning the guns, but not for sea monsters—Val had finally programmed that "comedic ambush by sea monster" filter for the moirascope, and we knew not to expect any. Instead, the forecast for the evening was warm and breezy with a strong chance of demigod heading slowly in our direction. On the open ocean.
"So basically it's either a mermaid or a dude in a rowboat," I said.
"It could be a dolphin," Markus suggested. "We've found sapient dolphins outside of Veles before."
"Fuck dolphins. I am not dealing with a fucking dolphin demigod," I said. "Not fucking happening. And besides, the contact is moving too slow for a dolphin."
"Octopus, then," Markus said.
The commander interrupted us. "Stow the chatter."
Abby took us around the long way, deep enough that the ship's passing wouldn't leave noticeable wake. Sunset had come and the dark water was calm. We parked ourselves about ten minutes ahead of them and suited up in the side bay.
"Exit is open," Val said. "You're clear to deploy."
"Acknowledged," Abby said. "Walkers on?"
"Yes'm," Markus and I replied in unison. I touched the device at my hip and made sure it was secure.
"In and out," the commander said. "Val, what's the status on your rogue contact?"
Abby twirled her collapsible spear, extending it to full length. My ears picked up the subsonic click as its internal translator made the spear whole. The commander gave me the nod.
I checked my pistol's safety and slapped the big red button that dropped the ramp. A hundred feet below the surface, we readied our weapons and walked down the ramp. When I reached the end of the ramp, I hesitated, looking at the surface of the water. Val's exit was a tunnel of air under the ocean, leading from the ship's exit to the surface. I tested the water's surface with one foot; it held. I took a deep breath and walked out into the ocean.
The tunnel looked like glass, glossy and smooth and transparent. I stared through it into the ocean, wary of predatory sea life, but all I saw was indeterminate black. The commander took point, with Markus and I taking flanking positions. We moved swiftly through the tunnel toward the surface. Nothing challenged us.
The tunnel should have been frictionless, but the laws of physics have no extradition treaties with Veles. In paraphysics, a surface is a surface; the walkers we wore enforced those rules in realspace. We stepped out onto the surface of the water, the Fool's Errand distantly visible against the sunset.
"Fuck," I said, stumbling as the waves shifted under my feet. Being able to stand on them just meant I had to figure out how to balance on them.
"I warned you," Markus laughed.
"We have time for you to adjust," the commander said. "They'll be here in a few minutes."
I managed, over those few minutes, to avoid falling a third time. Then it was time for the moment of truth: a good, old-fashioned boarding action.
The commander had refused my request for a grappling hook, so I'd have to do that another time. It was on the new pirate bucket list, the one I'd made after watching more pirate movies and realizing the old list was missing stuff. I might never get another chance to swing on rigging or participate in a parley between backstabbing sea captains with ulterior motives.
There'd be time for grappling hooks later. For this op, we were all suited with the gripping gloves the commander had used back in Bulcephine. The Fool's Errand approached us just as the sun finished setting. We each took a running jump and grabbed onto the side.
Now, climbing up the side of a ship was on the new pirate bucket list, so doing it this way was fine. I had a moment when the gloves tugged on my arms and I worried about them tearing my skin off, but the skin held.
We ascended quietly. I felt like I should have a cutlass between my teeth or something. The available substitutes weren't ideal: my pulser wasn't shaped right and clenching a pistol between my teeth felt like it violated all sorts of gun safety rules. The cutlass was more of a sprinkles-on-the-cupcake kinda thing anyway.
The lookout was already unconscious on the ground when I hauled myself over the railing.
The Fool's Errand looked a lot better than I'd last seen it. To be fair, it had been semi-capsized at the time. But Erid's new ship had really gotten a makeover, with fresh railings and beautiful paneling replacing the rotting barnacle-laden planks.
Come to think of it, didn't barnacles only grow underwater? I smirked at a brief mental image of the ship's previous owner forcing the crew to hold buckets of water against the walls while the barnacles grew. I couldn't really remember their face except that I'd shot it with a disruptor round.
Shit. Did I lose that memory when I flashed, or was it just a bad case of disruptor backlash?
I shoved the thoughts down and focused on the mission. We crept silently over the wooden paneling. We reached a door to the inside.
"Contact status?" I asked.
"At its current pace, thirty minutes to contact," said Val. "Don't rely on that estimate; we don't know its capabilities."
No time to waste. The commander pinged me to move forward. I complied, shifting to invisibility.
The hallway was dark, with more of that fresh paneling leading to a stairway. Two men stood by a window, speaking quietly. I pulsed them both in quick succession. A count of ten revealed that no one was coming to investigate the sound of falling bodies. I moved on.
There was no need to memorize the route; Markus and the commander were watching my feed. I checked for Erid behind every door. We didn't have a floor plan—no one in town had recognized the ship's design, much less where the captain might sleep—so it was door-to-door for now. My pulser had full charge. I wasn't worried about the crew; just the invisible ticking time bomb that was the demigod.
About ten minutes later, I cracked open a door to reveal lamplight. Erid was sitting up in bed, sword across her legs. Her eyes shot open as the door squeaked.
"Horcutio's shriveled pearls," she muttered. She blinked again, looking sharply at the door, then frowned and gripped the sword. "Who's there?"
Damn, lady just woke up and immediately notices that doors don't open themselves? Shame about the whole "everyone wants to knife Lilith" thing; Erid was pretty cool. I opted to ease out of invisibility so I didn't give her a heart attack or something.
"Yo," I said.
"You."
"We did say we'd see you tomorrow," I said. I made a show of looking at my empty wrist. "Made it with a few hours to spare."
Erid looked at the holsters on my waist, the knuckles of her sword hand whitening. She might not know how they worked, but she clearly recognized that they were weapons. "I warned you last time what would happen if you killed me in my cabin."
"Something about dying by age thirty." I smirked. "You were right, Erid. Thanks for trying to warn me. Anyways, I'm not here to hurt you."
"Deny it all you want," she said. She was pulling her blanket aside, making no sudden movements, but freeing her legs to move. "You don't sneak into an old lady's room in the middle of the sea unless you're making some kind of a point."
I shrugged. "We thought you'd want your map back. And we'd like to plan with you."
"I'm not getting involved with another one of your plans."
"Not my call. It's hers."
Right on cue, the door opened behind me and Abby and Markus walked through.
"You," Erid said to Markus. She looked at Abby. "So you're the one behind all this?"
"Effectively," said Abby. She tapped a fist to her shoulder and bowed. "You fought well during the capture of this ship. My respects."
"No." Erid painfully stood up. "None of that. You won't weasel your way into this after your girl cost me my own. Get out of my room or I'll kill her now."
The commander didn't even hesitate. "If I let you, will you cooperate with us?"
"Come on," I whined. "Really?"
Erid stared blankly at her.
"There's always a cost to these things," the commander told me. "Consider it a lesson."
"We'll bring your body back," Markus said sympathetically.
"But—Alcebios," I tried.
"She's not here," said the commander. "Go on, captain. I'll hold her if she tries to fight."
"This is so not fair," I said. The commander kicked the back of my knee, forcing me to the ground and roughly grabbing my hair to expose my throat fuck fuck fuck—
Oh fuck oh fuck not again not again. I started breathing faster. From this angle I could see the commander's face, utterly unemotional, like she was talking about the news or something before Erid fucking killed me
Breathe. Breathe oh fuck no no no okay breathe, get your shit together Lilith, it's going to be okay oh fuck.
Meditate. I could meditate. I shoved the emotions down, trying to act like I wasn't on the verge of breaking down.
"Really?" I said, looking up at the commander and trying not to cry.
The commander didn't respond, watching Erid. Erid looked back at her, then at me.
"This is gonna be so fucking traumatizing," I subvocalized to Markus. There was no way I kept the panic from bleeding through.
"We'll get you fixed up," he replied reassuringly.
"Danou," Erid said slowly. "This woman is your captain?"
"Uh," I said, trying to control my tone of voice. "Yeah?"
With comm feedback, we knew the instant she made her decision.
Erid was fast for her age, but she was still old. The strike was just a bit too slow, a bit too telegraphed, as it flashed for Abby's neck—
—and cut right through.
I blinked.
Blood sprayed everywhere. Abby's fingers loosened on my head as hers bounced next to me, expressionless.
"Fuck!" I shouted, shooting to my feet. "What the fuck!" I stood over Abby's body, panting. Then I screamed and kicked the wall. "Fuck!"
"Let's meet tomorrow," Erid said calmly, wiping her sword. "Old women need their rest. Now listen here: the next person who sets foot in my room without permission, I cut their head off too. I get one sniff you're using crew as bargaining chips—yours or mine—and I'll slice you up and toss you into the salt. And you owe me three hundred drobol."
I would have been gaping, but some of Abby's blood had gotten in my mouth and I was scared to open it again. "Three hun—we gave you three thousand!"
"The Oathkeepers gave me three thousand," Erid said. "You owe me three hundred."
"I, uh," I said, looking at Abby's body, "don't have it on me. At the moment."
"Take your time," Erid said, grinning mirthlessly. "But girl, I want you to remember something."
She stepped closer, pressing a finger to my collar bone.
"I pay," she said, "my debts."
*
Markus was carrying her body. Mostly; it was about a two story drop to the ocean and the walker was still active, so he just dumped her over the side with one of the most disgusting splatters I've ever heard.
Abby's head was no longer attached to her body, so I had the honor of carrying her down. I did the climb one-handed, with my other gripping glove around the back of her truncated neck.
It was a really weird situation. I could tell my brain was struggling to cope; I kept thinking that I needed to make sure her eyes were pointing in a good direction. We stepped onto the ocean and watched the Fool's Errand sail off into the night.
"Fucking hell," I said. "There's no way that wasn't on purpose, right? She had so much warning."
"She'll definitely say it was planned," Markus laughed. "Val, we're ready for pickup."
"In a moment," Val said. "I've just confirmed the commander reached the crypt. More relevantly, the enemy contact is nearly there."
"I don't wanna fight a mermaid," I said. "I am incredibly done. Just shoot it with the ship or something. I have blood all over me. I just want to go home."
"He's not a mermaid," Markus said, looking at the horizon. I followed his gaze.
An ageless, grizzled man was power-walking directly toward us.
On the water.
He was clothed in patchwork layers of weathered coats, shawls, and cloaks. A long, ratty scarf was wrapped around his neck, and he was using a rusty fishing spear as a walking stick. His hair was long and unkempt, his beard likewise, and both were gray with with vestiges of former black. His eyes reflected the sea; small waves rippled out from his feet as he walked.
He came to a stop about twenty feet away and slammed down the butt of his fishing spear, causing a larger wave. Where it passed, the sea stood as still as glass.
"I am Tidestrider," he said. "Guardian of Lord Horcutio's domain. You are not welcome here, Calamities."
"We were literally just about to leave," I said. "Chill the fuck out."
"You were," he said calmly, raising his spear and taking a stance. "I claim your lives for the deep."
My eyes narrowed as I drew my pistol. He clearly had some kind of waterbending bullshit, and if he felt comfortable engaging us from twenty feet, he was either effective at that range or he had some way to close the gap—
A loud pop rang out. A harpoon punched wetly through Tidestrider's chest. He coughed blood, fell to one knee, and then collapsed.
Behind him, a dolphin's head poked out of the water, sporting some kind of head-mounted gun and—somehow, recognizably—a shit-eating grin.
"What," I said, "the fuck."
