Of course, reality decided to ruin Taylor’s moment of joy. Just because she wanted to go there didn’t mean she could do so right now. But still, people. If one island had people maybe more would. None of her girls were reacting like this was anything special. Shun had even…
“These are safe waters?” Taylor asked Wakumi. She already knew the answer but she’d also like an actual explanation.
“Yes, Miss. The waters around Hawaii are neutral seas.”
That was a good sign, with so many implications.
As they’d passed through the channel both Shun and Wakumi had relaxed their vigils. She’d figured it was because they were near an Abyssal Anchorage. Now Taylor wondered just what the relationship between Abyssals and humans in general was. No one in Acapulco had seemed to care much about the squatters outside their walls. This was a bit different. If that ship had working cannon-
Her sensor chief chittered something. “It’s a Battleship,” the first mate helpfully translated.
Fine. Looking at the maps she had, it seemed like if the Battleship worked it would be able to range their resting site within a few hours. So was it disabled, or were Abyssals just not worried about regular warships?
“The second one doesn’t make much sense. Except if some kind of power is involved again,” Taylor mused.
There was something about the island that was making it difficult; to watch, to see clearly. Did she suddenly need glasses again?
{Far Sight}
Things popped into clean, sharp relief. “But then… how was I doing it before that?”
A question for another time, so into the journal it went. There was a sign outside and in multiple places around the docks holding the large ship.
“NAVAL MUSEUM” it said, with another banner proclaiming the ship “USS Missouri.” The intact structures huddled on the island with the ship. Taylor was starting to get a bad feeling about all this. It was a bit too neat how only the buildings on that island had survived and still worked. Her vision focused on some of the men and women walking around the place. There was still something weird going on. For one, many of the people were uniformed. Trees had leaves but that wasn’t it either.
It took her a moment to place it. Taylor found it hard to focus on them. It was almost like her eyelashes were touching a pillow pressed up against her face, or some bubble. Looking at them through a soft curtain. Some cautious part of her brain asked how big a submarine was compared to a human and she flinched.
“Pop,” sounded in her head and she was suddenly glad that something had stopped her.
“I’d be grateful if you were a little more careful, Princess,” a dry voice cut in. Her eyes skated over the island but apart from some of the uniformed personnel glancing at the skies, she couldn’t find the speaker.
“Oh for goodness sake. Use your eyes girl. Your own eyes,” She drawled, sounding a bit amused.
She had the voice of some movie star, or singer from the radio. It was soft, sweet and motherly. With just a hint of a Midwestern drawl, a bit of a purr on top.
The whole thing washed into her ears and Taylor felt almost like someone was hugging her brain. Pins and needles played in her hand as her heart started trying to find the threat her brain was screaming was right there. Voices like that, like golden honey, like warm sunlight, were not natural. Even if no power was involved, it was the voice of a trained speaker. A honed, bared weapon that had already tried to disarm her.
Taylor barely even needed to think to start looking for yet another sign of foreign influence while she refocused back to her own body. They’d kept sailing and were passing by the entrance to the harbor.
It took her less than a heartbeat to find the statuesque woman lounging in a beach chair. Most of the houses around her were ruins and the palms were bare of leaves. A single home there had been rebuilt. The front deck extended to the waterline from the beach house and on it was a round white table, surrounded by beach chairs. Which is as far as Taylor got before she got her first real look at the other woman. The other shipgirl.
She looked just like the ship in harbor. Exactly like her. With not a hint of Abyssal influence about her. Taylor’s reflex to try and find the foreign influence the voice may be exerting ran aground and jumped tracks to stop the expected onslaught of bitter, hateful associations provoked by The Enemy… only to flounder. There was nothing. No, that wasn’t right.
Taylor had sonar. She’d grown inured over the weeks of sailing to the sounds of dolphin and whale song. If pressed, she might admit they helped her sleep. But it was background, not a threat and so unimportant. That’s what it felt like. The woman in a light, blue sundress, for all she was a shipgirl, and not an Abyssal; a Battleship that could probably shoot her right now?
She didn’t feel like The Enemy. Missouri, if she wasn’t wrong about who this was, felt like a whale. A large, powerful, potentially dangerous creature. One that was watching her from a distance Taylor was entirely uncomfortable by, now that she was aware the other was a ship with guns. She had no desire to be that close to an Enemy Battleship. But this wasn’t The Enemy. It was like attacking Taylor wasn’t an option, any more than a regular whale would go after her for no reason.
She found all her inner defenses stuttering as the expected urges to hate or attack failed to show. There was nothing. Or at least, no undue influence Taylor could find right now. Or on review.
Which only had Taylor tensing further. If she could not find anything about the woman that was affecting her, then how deep had the influence gone? How insidious was it?
Missouri was almost as tall as Taylor and a bit wider than her. The blue sundress matched her sky blue eyes, the pupil of which was a dully twinkling, white star. The star felt almost defiant, like it was daring the world to deny it its place. Her hair was the color of deep dusk, of nights spent on the trail beneath the starry sky. Around her neck hung an amulet, each link in the chain a spoked wheel. The center piece a large stainless steel arch whose two ends rested on Missouri’s rather sizable chest. The sundress was sleeveless, shoulderless, held up by two halter-straps. With a raised, demure neckline and a hemline falling just below the knees.
As closely as she looked, Taylor found no hidden turrets waiting to spit fire at her. That she wasn’t in her rigging was the one good thing Taylor saw about the whole situation. It made it likely that whatever the threat was here, it wouldn’t be immediately violent.
Taylor met those starry eyes and it felt like they could see right through her.
***
Missouri knew she’d be having guests today. She’d prepared for it and set out a nice selection of drinks and had a fresh batch of cookies in the oven.
Unfortunately, as they came into view, the Abyssals were too engrossed in their own conversation to notice her. Missouri had hesitated. She hadn’t wanted to scare them. They didn’t have anything that could actually stand up to a Battleship. But with each moment, it had only gotten more awkward to now suddenly jump in.
“Alright, maybe I was also a bit too happy to have a chance to see them unguarded in the flesh,” she admitted to herself.
Trying to read Abyssal tone or posture through her visions was exhausting and unreliable. Too much was missing, it was like looking through an old WW2 camera, compared to the wealth of data she could gather personally. While she could call several Abyssals friends, understanding any one of them was an uphill battle until she got used to their particular quirks. So she’d listened in a bit, just to understand them better. She didn’t want to put her foot in her mouth. Again.
Abyssals in the flesh were grotesque. Repulsive and monstrous, like living nightmares. Some could be almost human, but there was always something wrong. Missouri had trained herself not to react or be bothered by it.
Unfortunately, by the time she was ready to try talking to them, they’d gotten in a discussion on Raven’s Progress. Not a great place to jump in to.
It had also occurred to Missouri that maybe they wouldn’t appreciate someone listening in. The Battleship had hesitated further because it was getting just a little bit silly. The Princess had launched a seaplane while sailing, a curious bit of Spooky Abyssal Bullshit. It was usually a skill of Seaplane Tenders. Though many shipgirls could carry and use observation seaplanes, most had catapults on deck to actually launch them.
The key word there was observation. “It’s not like I’m trying to hide.” Missouri told herself. She waved. The submarine waved back by wiggling her fins while the heavy cruiser talked. Following the sub's motion, the carrier glanced her way, slightly inclined her head and went back to listening and monitoring the rest of the fleet. Kaede was ignoring Missouri, which was expected, if still depressing. She didn’t much like or care for neutrals, especially Missouri.
After years to consider it, she’d forgiven herself for any guilt in that matter. After Raven, Missouri could not have stopped the onslaught that came. The US reacted poorly to foreigners and outsiders killing its soldiers. Killing millions of civilians on American soil had called down apocalyptic fury. The death of between a third and half the territory of California and almost a quarter of its population was unforgivable. So it was war. They’d been lucky the US had been wining in those early days, or it would have been nuclear war and all downhill from there.
“Here we are. Still fighting.” It was still better than an irradiated wasteland.
The museum ship shook her head and settled in. They weren’t going very fast. They’d have to come up for air sometime, right? A Q&A session turned history lesson strayed on the topic of how Abyssals abused and tortured one another and Missouri tuned them out. She’d had enough of that in her visions.
She sipped her coffee and arranged what she wanted to say, how best to begin. These introductions were always delicate. Say the wrong thing and Abyssals would either shut down, attack or snub her. Either way, they wouldn’t come back. It had been a while since she’d had a new student from the Abyss. A young Princess was about the best chance she had to change this war. Hopefully she hadn’t been fed too much bull already.
Finally, she felt the Princess probing the humane wards over her home. That was the other side of innocence and ignorance, Missouri supposed. No one had warned her yet, but it did mean she was likely clueless on the subject. A hole in her understanding of the world Missouri definitely wanted to fill in herself before someone else poured lies and other garbage into it.
“I’d be grateful if you’d be so kind to be a little more careful, Princess,” Missouri said.
A bit of disarming wit and putting herself in debt seemed like the right way to start it off. Get a feel for the Princess, put her at ease for the next part. An almost frantic moment later, the Princess was still looking for Missouri back on the museum island. She held back her laughter. The historian was going for confident, relaxed, but serious. Laughter would ruin the image.
“Oh for goodness sake. Use your eyes girl. Your own eyes,” Missouri specified, amused by the mad scramble poking all over the wards. The Princess came back to herself and finally spotted her. Which allowed Missouri to really look at her without it feeling like an ambush. Attention and radar were hello and threat all in one, when she didn’t intend the second.
The Princess looked… she looked like someone had taken a gangly teen and dressed her up in her grandmothers ancient Victorian formal wear. Done up in pale white and silver, with ruffles and lace and bits Missouri wasn’t even sure what to call. All on a corseted bell dress with a fluttering shawl and gloves. Well, glove. It looked hellish to move or sail in, if possessed of an old-fashioned beauty. The girl herself looked mostly unremarkable for the Abyss, with long, curly, pale ashen hair falling about mid-back. A thin-lipped, but too wide mouth hinted at a more monstrous jaw.
Her eyes a deep blue but the most obvious deformity was her other arm. It looked like some kind of armored spear, except it bent and moved like a snake with a mind of its own. Two large cranes rose from her shoulders and a pair of baleful eyes looked out from the shadows of the layered skirts. She wasn’t sailing, but gilding across the waves.
The Princess didn’t so much as turn to look at her, sailing along without changing her heading, even as the spear-arm whipped around to face her and its top opened in threat showing a concerning number of teeth. Her other hand reached into her pockets and pulled out a length of cloth. A scarf maybe?
Missouri had quite a bit of experience talking to Abyssals. She was probably the most experienced shipgirl at it in the Pacific. She’d long grown used to their monstrous nature and the way nightmares radiated from their nobles. The Battleship had let all that simply break against her bow, ignoring the hollering and ugliness trying to seep in. With the familiarity of long practice her crew had armed the pumps and started washing off what little gunk had managed to splash on deck. It’s not like it was intentional.
When a shipgirl had weight, she caused waves by her passing. Which was part of the reason why Missouri had spent years perfecting her control in her off hours. Abyssals did not like it when a shipgirl splashed them any more than Missouri enjoyed the experience. She was just used to it and glad for that. This was so much harder back when she had to fight her nausea as more and more of that crap piled up.
Finally, the head turned and faced her, slowly studying her before it rose to meet her eyes. Time to be brutally forthright.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Welcome to Hawaii. These are my waters, my islands and my people. You hurt them and I’m going to take it out of your hide. When I’m done, Raven will take a strip of her own. And the line goes from there. Pushing too hard on humans can hurt or kill them and that counts. So behave, got it?”
Missouri didn’t like having to do that, but you never knew with Abyssals. It’s not like the Princess before her had interacted with people yet. Until tested, she couldn’t be trusted not to hurt them, even on accident. Some ground rules were necessary. Whatever else they were, Abyssals were still also monsters. Once the monster was told it had no place here, Missouri could start helping the girl.
“Got it.” The Princess affirmed and then turned away, putting on her scarf like a blindfold.
“What?”
Missouri floundered. This wasn’t even a dismissal, or a snit, it was like the girl wasn’t even interested. She was used to a lot of responses. Being casually ignored wasn’t one of them. She didn’t even try to look superior or try to lord over Missouri. Just stopped playing attention, face blank, like a Battleship wasn’t even there.
“The nerve of it.“
“Am I boring you child? Interrupting something?” Missouri asked, just a bit disappointed. Was this another one that had been warned away by those stupid rumors?
“No.” The girl hesitated. “Mostly no,” and then failed to elaborate. Luckily Missouri was saved from having to guess as the wiggling sub exploded: “Do you have any cookies Suri?”
She knew that one. “What was it? Shup? Shut? Shim? Shum. It was Shum. No, Shun.”
“Sure sweetie, come right up. I’ve got them fresh from the oven.”
That had the sub pulling off an almost ninety-degree turn, coming right towards her. At least something was working out as planned. She hadn’t expected to snag Kaede with the cookies but the reluctance with which the other two looked at their Princess was new.
“Is this normal?” The Princess asked in a voice that overflowed with some strong emotion. It was hard to tell with Abyssal nobility. They all sounded like the choir of damned, drowned sailors but Missouri figured it was probably anger? Shun almost froze, drifting in place.
“It’s not protocol,” the light carrier answered wryly, “but yes. Its normal and sort off expected to drop by. Usually after settling in. Most Princesses just send a Wa-class to deliver their assurances and greetings. And fetch some cookies.”
Missouri grinned. It was nice to know at least one of them was trained for diplomacy. A Flagship, perhaps? Whatever the case, her voice was coming in wide and clear. Most importantly, clean of growls, howls and other Abyssal corruption. Near perfect Low Speech. Unlike the Princess, who kept splashing Missouri with dark, stained waters every time she opened her mouth to talk.
“Another sign of inexperience. Though it gets much harder the more weight they have.”
“I don’t mind staying, Miss.” The heavy cruiser said, her tone dull and flat. Not as clear or expressive as the carrier, but the dull tones of trade talk were still safe for most ears. In limited amounts. A couple of rare skills, that, to have in the fleet of a Princess that was just starting out.
“And perhaps a sign how desperate the Court is getting for new Princesses.”
Missouri would have loved to have seen what went on inside the Court session, but she only managed to find them afterwards. Even that gave her one hell of a headache. Midway did not like it when she looked in on her turf.
“Go.” The Princess curtly ordered. “I could use a break and we’ll be faster anyway.”
It didn’t sound like much, but every ship except Kaede flinched as if struck. Missouri couldn’t gauge the strength of that, since it wasn’t aimed at her. But that looked like it hurt. Both girls separated from their Princess and came on as Missouri was left wondering why the girl was being so cold. It didn’t help that the destroyer hovering by her side was growling at Missouri. It looked like it wanted to rip her apart, but the Princess restrained it with barely a twitch of the hand.
“Can I at least have your names? I’m Missouri.” She tried. She wasn’t sure if leaving out USS would hit the mark or why the blindfold was necessary.
“Did this one even know enough for it to matter?”
“Come on Suri. It’s Shun!” The subgirl exclaimed, her rigging opening to show off an eager smile. She was almost drooling.
“Watanabe Wakumi, Your Ladyship.” The light carrier elegantly bowed. “A pleasure to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The monster couldn’t speak and Kaede wasn’t talking to her. Something the Princess had noticed, by the way she was eyeing the repair ship. The Princess’s head bobbed a bit, to unseen music, before she answered. When she did, even with everything else distorting her tone, Missouri could recognize grief.
“Weaver. You can call me Weaver,” she whispered.
Missouri didn’t press. Feeding them and talking to the girls who had accepted would just have to be enough.
“And with them here as a focus, I can find out more about the Princess. Just have to be careful to ask permission first. Always forget that.”
She’d send them on their way with cookies for the other two. Maybe this time Kaede would take one.
As she sailed away, the Princess had a few final, awkward words: “If it’s not you it’s me,” she explained, about as clear what she meant as a blind man lost in heavy fog.
New stains on her deck were a minor distraction from the shock. Missouri had never expected to hear that excuse from an Abyssal Princess. It was eerily human.
“Humans can’t be shipgirls, silly. I would have noticed if she was one of the Fallen. Right?”
Perière must have sent out a telenovela again. Missouri shook it off and focused back on her guests.
“I’m not that blind. But maybe a peek wouldn’t hurt?”
***
Taylor could finally see Maui. The list of questions she had had grown significantly but it didn’t matter. It was odd how much of a relief it was to have the girls away. Kaede was there, but she wasn’t Fleet. Even if she was right next her, the repair ship felt further away than any of the girls. Even with the added distance. Which meant she was safe. Or at least, safer. Taylor couldn’t twitch, or look wrong and hurt her by it. The silence on the final stretch had been a blessing as more and more, her bones were dragging her down.
But her destination wasn’t empty. On the coast of Maui, an Abyssal was waiting for them.
“What the hell happened to you? You’re a day late and multiple girls short! What kind of an incompetent loses ships on a short jaunt like that?”
There was more, but Taylor tuned her out. Bertha had served multiple such Princesses. They were kids, yes. But ones like these were little, entitled brats that squabbled when the adults were away. As the other Princess continued to chitter away and lob insults her way, Taylor grew more and more convinced that there was a fundamental divide in the Court. Between the responsible ones, who’d grown up too fast to meet the trials set before them, and these.
The request for her fleet details was answered promptly, but the girl just kept pushing as the miles went down. It was like there was a persistent wave trying to invade her waters, bully her into compliance to sail and flow the way She wanted. Maybe on another day, Taylor would have been a bit more… diplomatic with the now identified Anchorage Princess.
The moment her feet touched solid ground the world blurred. She might have blacked out for a moment. Taylor blinked.
“Oh.”
Linolina, as the other woman shaped girl had introduced herself, was on one knee. The other one was dislocated and was dragging behind her. Lines and hooks had wrapped themselves around her throat, drawing no blood, yet. Taylors hand held her up by her elbow. Taylor’s other arm had wrapped itself around the Anchorages hand and stomach and was holding her up by said gut, gently scratching at her hull with each twitch of her inner teeth. The other girl was hanging from that hold, with her healthy knee just above the sands.
There was a crack in her in the beyond where something sharp had pierced her hull. It was a large if shallow wound and bits of dark, broken glass were falling through the air like hail. Taylor felt like they might have been hers, once, but she wasn’t entirely sure. About anything anymore.
She noticed the other girl had tilted her head, displaying her neck. The Anchorage had slotted herself into Taylor’s order of battle just below Taylor herself, or so that cold, methodical part of [Fleet] claimed. That wasn’t right but it would do for tonight.
“I’m going to sleep,” She said, dropping the princess.
Kaede didn’t make a sound, or so much as breathe as Taylor floated down to the shore, her rigging finally dissolving into the sea. With her sonar planted to listen to the dolphins and whales, Taylor got down to the dull and repetitive task of watching the recordings from this trip. They added up, but she couldn’t really go through them while sailing. That would be dangerous, as she was all but dead to the world like this.
Taylor skimmed most of it, pretty sure nothing was messing with her during her alone time with the girls and focused on the meeting with Missouri. She wished she had a recording of whatever that was with Midway, but none were to be found. Which was just great. Maybe she’d hallucinated the whole thing.
Afterwards, she could finally sleep.
Anyone who woke her would regret it. Not even the Abyss or the second coming of Scion would protect them. This bit of sand, this was hers. She patted it until it was comfortable. The world could fuck off for a day or two.
At least the girls were having fun. Without her.
***
Kaede slowly swallowed. Taylor was gently rolling in the sand on her stomach, more than half submerged with each wave. The ship was slowly sinking and apparently loving it, by her goofy, punch-drunk smile. Like all the weight on it was falling away, onto the dark waters that flooded into her compartments. Kaede’s repair ship instincts told her she was in trouble and to go help. Her danger sense kept her well away. No matter how cutely the crazy menace drooled in her sleep, that was a full on Princess beaching herself for maintenance. The Princess gathered up a lump of sand around her and slowly shaped from it into a pillow, hugging it to her. The pillow made from sand. That looked and worked like a real pillow. Then she finally buried her face in said pillow and went limp.
Kaede still didn’t move until a thump made her jump. The crazy one had just hit the seafloor. The seafloor between her sandbars. Because why would anything about the Bertha/Taylor situation make sense?
Finally, Taylor’s face smoothed out. Mostly. It was still frowning and twitching a bit, but it was far better than being near a Princess in a quite literally murderous mood.
“Kaede? Isn’t she supposed to be a freighter Princess? Some Panamax thing?” Linolina asked her. Carefully, quietly. All but speaking in flags, while she rubbed the lines on her neck. Never in her life had Kaede seen intent that sharp, or that brittle. If it hadn’t shattered to bits at the first hint of Shear strain, Linolina would be bleeding all over the beach. With the kind of wound no repair ship could mend.
“Yeah. This is her. Before a refit.” Kaede answered.
“Hoooollly Shit.” Linolina whispered. “Isn’t she supposed to be bad at being a ship?”
“Terrible. And she is. You saw it yourself. She can’t turn to save her life. And when did she start trying to stop? Let's not even talk about her flying. It's pitiful.” Kaede argued, as they slowly backed away.
“Cold, frozen depths.” Linolina cursed. She thought about it for a minute, as they got more distance. “Was that {Mirage} that ate my shots? Is that pillow actually real?” Her friend was starting to freak out.
“[Flicker] I think. Linolina? I think it is real.”
A hush fell over the other girl. “Damn. The Court will freak.”
“If they find out.” Kaede insisted.
The Anchorage Princess gave her a sideways look. “You were just there when she almost killed me, right?”
“Doesn’t matter. You tried to bully her into being your subordinate. Did you think it an accident Midway threw her out of the Joint Fleets?” Kaede asked her.
She wasn’t a Princess, so she couldn’t be too direct. No one was supposed to talk about a Princess’s twist. Especially not girls who weren’t Court members themselves. Not anymore.
“Shit. Someone could have told me.” Linolina complained.
“Lino? Shut up.” That was just rubbing salt in an old wound.
“Sorry.”
At least she was quick to apologize.
“My place? I’ve got the good booze.” The Princess suggested.
“This? This is why you’re my favorite friend.” Kaede replied, taking her up on the peace offering.
They walked down the beach towards her friend’s long time home. Linolina had held these waters ever since they’d been proclaimed neutral ground. They were both long since tired of the fighting and it would be nice to relax after all that Ritual prep and the following rush to get everyone repaired and battle ready again.
Kaede had a feeling there would be plenty of work for everyone, in the days to come.
***
Taylor had nightmares and dreams in her sleep. She dreamt of her home when she was still little and her parents were heroes. They were sweet, simple dreams, precious for their rarity and brightness. Many of the nightmares were of people, girls, popping. Some of a storm. Of the sound of thunder overlapping. Winds howling, windows breaking as a brilliant bolt of incandescent lightning consumed the world. Came for her guts, snaking through the air, seeking her life.
***
Taylor’s two seaplanes didn’t disappear just because she was asleep. One kept lookout over her girls and returned with them. The other one? It landed next to the circle of dark fire on an unauthorized rescue mission. There it picked up a passenger spat out from the flames before heading for home.