Interlude 1

The sun came out from behind the clouds, and she sighed. They said that, whatever Sea you were in, the sky didn’t change color. That was apparently physics or chemistry or something like that, but she didn’t care: this sky was a clearly different shade of blue than what they had back home, something greener. And that was reflected in the water, and the whole thing was really too beautiful to handle.

Marie was going to miss that sky when the Crackerjack returned to Bermuda.

She figured they had just over an hour. There was no visual indicator of where the Triangle was. Technically, it didn’t exist on this side. But the passageway was there, and, while it was invisible, it was easy to find: it was always magnetic north. Apparently this was some effect of whatever physics-thing kept the passage open. This made returning home easy: just point yourself north and you literally couldn’t miss it. Knowing your distance wasn’t quite as simple, but any ship planning long voyages had an automatic system that tracked orientation throughout the voyage, and it had told them they were less than a day away.

Personally, Marie wouldn’t have minded another few hours. This was a particularly beautiful Sea: beyond the sea and sky color, there were archipelagoes that dotted the horizon and semed so close that you could jump between them. There had been bright seabirds in the sky and passive but majestic frog-whales in the sea. And it had been incredibly profitable, not least due to those frog-whales, whose passivity had rendered them easy prey. Spending the money would be fun, but it was even better to look out at the waves and dream of spending it.

It was easy to love a trip on the Crackerjack. Marie had Guided voyages on ships of all sizes, but it was hard to deny the appeal of being on one of the truly elite vessels like the Crackerjack. Some of that appeal came from the creature comforts, with ample living space and even a small hot tub that was fed with seawater. But more important was the palpable ease with which it cut through the water. It was even worth putting up with Captain Wilson, who, for all of his delusions of living in the Age of Sail, was unquestionably competent.

Rob nodded as he came to stand alongside her. “It’s been a good voyage, Marie. Long, but good.”

“It has. You ready to be home?”

“Of course. I’m ready to go home as soon as we get started. And then as soon as I’m home I want to go back out.”

Marie laughed. “I get that.”

“But, in the meantime, have you thought about my offer?”

“I have. It’s intriguing, but I don’t see where we get the capital. Ships are expensive.”

“Capital? Are you kidding? We are sitting on it! I don’t know if you’ve done the math, but we are going to be well in the black after this one.”

“Not that far in the black.”

“More than you might guess, by my math. Anyway, I have some saved, and I can find some investors. The point is, I’m sick of losing so much of my money to a guy who just sings sea shanties while he sails in a random direction out and then north all the way back. We could do that ourselves!”

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“I think there’s more to it than that. And you're a terrible singer.”

“Maybe, but we can learn! We’re a great team - we’ll figure it out.”

Before she could respond, Marie heard Captain Wilson yell out, “Ship approaching starboard!”

Marie rolled her eyes. “You’re right, though, that I could do with less of his cosplay. Especially when it doesn’t even make sense.”

When Rob didn’t respond, she looked over and saw that he had pulled out his binoculars and was now staring at one of the islands off to the East.

“Rob?”

“It can’t … There can’t be …”

She snatched the binoculars and scanned the horizon until she saw it. There was, impossibly, a ship out there, moving towards them. It was hard to judge size or speed, but it looked like something from three hundred years ago, giant sails and all. People had built some ships like that, when concerns about fuel had briefly defined construction trends, but they’d been phased out for more sensible vessels like the Crackerjack. Not that it mattered, because nothing was supposed to be in the Sea with them.

“Rob, how can there be another ship? I mean, there can’t be, but —”

“Maybe it’s the elves?”

“There are no elves! And why would they be sailing some sort of fucking galleon? Can someone else have entered our Sea?”

“I mean, I don’t think anyone’s proven it’s impossible, but it’s never happened! Or shit, maybe we entered their Sea? Maybe they’ve been stuck out here?”

Marie couldn’t respond, because she found herself unable to process what she was seeing. The impossible new ship kept getting closer and closer, and now the binoculars revealed a puff of smoke. And, although she tried not to believe it, it seemed like, coming towards them, almost casually, almost slowly, there was —

“Christ, Marie, is that a cannonball?”

The only answer was the crack as the cannonball smashed against the Crackerjack’s reinforced sides, which shuddered and bent with the impact.

Before Marie could even draw breath, Captain Wilson’s voice boomed over the ship’s intercom. “Fire! Fire everything!”

Marie had never been so happy to be on a hunting voyage. Because they hadn’t known what they’d find, they had brought every kind of weapon they could fit on board. That included not just the lasers they’d used to bring down surfacing whales without damaging the valuable feathers, but also artillery capable of launching harpoons with explosive tips, drones that carried bombs that could be dropped from above, and small torpedoes with razor tips designed to penetrate hard shells. Within moments, all of those instruments were flying towards the still approaching galleon. Once it was sinking, they could investigate what the hell it had been. Marie braced for the explosion.

And then her shoulders sunk as everything just … everything just went through it. She saw the splashes, the waves as torpedoes passed, the drones that dropped bombs directly into the ocean. And it was still coming, somehow.

Rob yelled next to her. “We need to run! As fast as we can - we’re almost home! We can make it!”

Marie wasn’t sure if Rob thought he could make that true by shouting or if he just couldn’t avoid yelling out something. And maybe he was even right. They were accelerating as much as the engines could handle, and they were supposed to be close. Marie could have misjudged, maybe they were only 15 minutes from the Triangle. Maybe they’d be through it any minute.

But she saw the smoke as a dozen impossible cannonballs took flight. And, even as they were rattling the Crackerjack, she saw another dozen coming. And then she felt the ship begin to list, and she heard everyone screaming.

In the end, Marie turned away, and watched the smoke cloud that strangely green sky.