Taylor would be coming up with a fitting punishment for the crew. She understood, really. The beach party wasn’t a bad idea, in principle. She was sleeping anyway. But breaking into her supplies wasn’t something she could let go if she wanted to have safe supplies. She’d have to deliver a memorable lesson, or a repeat would mean making an example. As much as her nightmares were nightmares, she was loath to hurt them too badly. They were hers, her crew. Every time felt like beating herself up and she had enough of that from the world.

Taylor wanted to go to Shun. If there was a way to avoid the issues without sinking to hidden tapping, she wanted to know about it. Whatever else she was, the submarine was sneaky. But first, she wanted to see what she could do about her weight problem so as to avoid any more incidents. She was overdue a real talk with her hostess anyway. Taylor just hoped she’d be able to pay whatever price was asked for the lesson. Linolina did not strike her as the same type of Princess as the Empress.

She couldn’t wait for Wakumi to recover to teach her. She wasn’t allowed to do anything strenuous, especially of the same kind that hurt her. The other experienced giRl she had was out of the question for now.

“Maybe Kaede would know something? She was part of Midway’s ritual staff.”

***

“She’s coming this way,” Linolina announced.

Kaede glanced up from the beer she was nursing. Linolina hadn’t lied, she had given Kaede some of the good stuff. But after their welcome party, it was all beer. Happy, the repair ship, was not. It was still better than nothing.

“Think I can get to work?”

“Finally?”

“I don’t think so Kaede. That’s the stride of a girl on a mission. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Oh come on! Abandoning me already? What’s with you and that girl?” Kaede asked.

Linolina hesitated.

“You tried to put her in her place and she flattened you. So what? It’s not like it was serious. Just usual Princess precedence foolishness. With a bit of distance you can scrap her.” Kaede cajoled.

“You weren’t the target.” Linolina snapped.

Kaede reared back. “Yeah, so? I felt its passing. It was sharp, sure. But you broke it with ease. What’s the issue?”

Lino was scared and that wasn’t good. A scared Princess was a rash Princess and Kaede really didn’t want to face Taylor alone. She’d seen what happened to Wakumi. The scratch on her nose still itched and had vividly reminded her of the intent that had hit Linolina. Something like that would leave Kaede in pieces. She could pay Lino back later, first she had to survive.

“The last thing she does before falling asleep is hurt Lino, the first thing she does upon waking up is put Wakumi out of commission. I don’t like my chances. She’s normal one moment and lashing out the next.”

Some girls were resentful. Kaede had tried to argue the point with Midway. “But nooo.” She was sent for her “familiarity with the new Princess.” Some days, Kaede wondered if Midway really was that bad at people, or just incredibly patient in enacting her revenge.

“The issue is she was perfectly ready to rip my head off. It was like she was a Demon. A Princess of the Court isn’t supposed to do that.” Linolina hissed, as they went down the stairs and out the door.

“Yeah, well, she’s new, that’s why she could use guidance.” Kaede started to argue and ran out of time. Taylor was already in sight. Lino hadn’t warned her until it was too late.

“Good luck.” The traitor said, abandoning her to fend for herself. Before Linolina had taken more then a few steps, broadcasting her excuses, Taylor responded:

“Actually, I was hoping to speak to you both.”

“Saved.” Kaede could feel her tension dropping.

“That’s what you get for running away.” Kaede whispered, sending Linolina a victorious look that left the Princess supremely unimpressed.

“You are going to lecture me on running away?” Linolina pointedly reminded her.

Kaede winced. They were never going to let that go, were they? You abandon one island and suddenly you’re in the shithouse for life. Well, at least she had fresh drinks again. Midway did not let her staff smell of alcohol. Or indulge at home. Or really let Kaede do anything fun on account of the whole abandonment thing.

At least she had beer. She could barely feel the burn but anything helped.

***

Taylor wasn’t sure what she was expecting. The other Princess had greeted her in rigging on their first meeting, from what little she remembered. As she got closer, the picture didn’t change. The two girls before her almost didn’t look Abyssal. Kaede had put on a light, yellow beach dress with blue sandals, while Linolina was in a very daring two-piece swimsuit with a massive white beachhat and dark sunglasses. The Princess was barefoot and didn’t care one bit. It made Taylor aware she’d gone barefoot herself, leaving little ponds in her every footstep in the sands.

Both were pale, of flesh and hair, one with unnaturally shining eyes, but that was it. Out of their rigging, in the dawns light, they looked nearly human. Kaede was like a sick albino with novelty contacts, but with the sunglasses and the Princesses generally prettier looks, she could pass for some strange beach model.

“That reminds me.”

“One moment.” Taylor took a minute to launch the camera modified seaplane as she walked. If there were people on the final island, she wanted to see it. Without hurting someone by chance.

The two were oddly silent while she worked, looking at her like something was off but there was no clear sign that Taylor could pick up on for what was bothering them.

“What?” Taylor asked as she got to the front porch. She might as well ask.

Her hostess was silent but Kaede looked her up and down. It felt like being checked out, but she didn’t shy away. There’s no way that was happening.

“Could you spend one day without pulling more Spooky Bullshit? Please and thank you.” Kaede responded.

That didn’t actually answer her question.

“What do you want?” Linolina sullenly asked. “I have work to do, you know. I’m a busy Princess.”

She was still not happy with her. Thing was, Taylor wasn’t sure if apologizing was the right move. She’d seen the bickering among the other Princesses, but that was usually at range. With freighters carrying messages, not live. Would it be seen as a sign of weakness for this kind of Princess?

The Court session had included lots of bickering, but Freddy, the Empress and at the end, even Midway were mostly reasonable.

“Or at least the Abyssal version of trying to be reasonable and responsible.”

Taylor wasn’t sure if the pettiness and bitchiness were her memories and perception being messed with, or if the three were an exception.

“Wasn’t there something about a table at Court in Shun’s story? A Table that made rules for the Court, or something?”

Kaede was technically attached to her fleet. “Kaede, what usually happens when a Princess is assigned to an Anchorage?”

The repair ship glanced between the two princesses keeping a careful watch on each other and took a short sip of her bear. Waves were rolling in and a fresh ocean wind blew in from the beach, but her swallow still seemed unnaturally loud against the natural backdrop.

“Usually, they’re both part of the same fleet. A Princess higher up assigns and orders it. So there’s no trouble.” Kaede answered.

“Trouble.” Taylor snorted. “That. I want no trouble. I want peace.”

Linolina opened her mouth to speak before being cut off. “And some very basic lessons on how to Princess. It’s not like I’m trying to throw my weight around.”

Lino frowned, doubtful. “What, it just happens? All on its own?” The Anchorage Princess derided.

“Yes.” Taylor admitted. She didn’t actually know what she was doing. Or how.

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

Seeing the continuing disbelief, she threw her hand out towards the beach, irritated. The proof was all around her, why pretend? One of deck planks sheared in half and ripped from the floor, splinters flying all over the sands. The effect hadn’t started where she’d gestured but from her right toe. It had only vaguely gone where Taylor had wanted. Namely, away from the house and the three of them.

Linolina frowned, examining her handiwork. “You’re paying for that,” she absently said.

Slowly, her face lost all expression. Taylor felt her tension rising. “Someone planned this.” Linolina claimed. “Someone sent you to me, like this, with her. I knew I shouldn’t have started skipping Court sessions.” The Anchorage sighed.

“Sure. I’ll help. In turn, you stay on your side of the island. I’ve got an entire convoy of newly raised girls fresh from the Abyss to care for. Way you are, you’re a menace to any of them.” Linolina shook her head, watching Taylor like she might bite her.

“In case you didn’t know, Hawaii is the Pacific Jamaica. War weary girls are assigned this station to recover. Pull themselves together again. It’s what I do. You don’t bother any of my other guests, and I’ll help you with the power exercises. Deal?”

Her eyes swiveled, like cannons, pinning Kaede to the spot. The auxiliary was shaking her head in denial.

“I’m only here to map Taylor and plan her refit!”

“Kaede,” Linolina expressed. It wasn’t said, it was a wave bursting from her. Taylor was barely clipped and still she felt as if her supervisor had caught her using her swarm voice in public with fans. That Weaver had had fans still boggled her mind sometimes. “What were we talking about?”

“I know your official orders, ship, what did Midway suggest?” Linolina pressed.

Kaede crumpled into a chair, draining her bottle dry.

“That if Taylor has any difficulties, I make myself available.” She whispered. Not ashamed, or embarrassed, but genuinely scared. “You can’t tell anyone. Anyone Taylor. Uh. Young Miss. Please?”

Taylor looked from one girl to the other, waiting for one of them to let her in on whatever it was they were talking about. “Kaede used to be a Princess.” Linolina bluntly said, to the girls soft moan of “Noooo. Don’t I get a say in this?”

Taylor paused. Trying to work out the implications of that. Going through her memories to see what stood out in light of this new information even as she maintained an unperturbed mask.

“I see.” Taylor said, buying time. The other Princess gave her a few breaths to consider it before pushing on.

“She can handle the theory, I don’t have the patience for all that talking. But when you want to have fun, come on over.” Linolina said, stiff. Formality did not suit her. “Just call ahead first. My work is important and delicate. I wouldn’t want an amateur disturbing it.”

The dismissal was familiar, but Taylor decided to fight that battle another day.

“As long as you don’t try ordering me around? Deal.” Taylor went to shake on it, only to turn it into running her hand through her hair. No one shook hands in the Abyss.

Linolina watched her fumble with confusion. She shook her head and scoffed. “Aren’t you going to get that?” She asked, giving Taylor one mean smile.

“What is she t-” Kaede was booking it. The repair ship had used their discussion to somehow slip away and was running over the sands. “How did I miss that?”

“Kaede what are you doing?” Taylor shouted after her. The impulse to run after her and beat her into the ground until she started making some sense rose up and she fought it down. The next obvious solution was to simply order her back, but for one, Kaede was attached, not Fleet. For another, Taylor wasn’t sure she wouldn’t hurt her by trying.

“Kaede, I’m not going to hurt you! Just stop, we can talk about this.” Taylor called after her.

“She’s your problem now,” Linolina finished, heading back to sea.

“Wait,” Taylor asked, feeling torn. “At least show me how to vent safely. I don’t want to break one of them on accident.”

Linolina turned back, her eyes filled with scorn and surprise, before growing thoughtful. “You actually don’t know how, do you? Huh. Weird. Just plug it in, it’ll disperse on its own.” She looked one part convinced this was enough, obvious, one part suspicious it actually wouldn’t be.

“Into what?” Taylor asked, feeling like she was the child, not a grown woman who’d fought horrors beyond Linolina’s imagination.

“Your storm.” The other Princess replied. She must have noticed the next question on her lips because she cut Taylor off. “I’ll show you.” Linolina raised both hands Taylor’s way, before scowling.

“Don’t cut me,” the Anchorage warned.

Taylor felt the waves come again, the feeling familiar from their first meeting. She wasn’t half out of her mind with exhaustion now. They didn’t feel as heavy, as overbearing as last time. Didn’t try to bully their way in. They flowed into her shallows and were repelled by Taylor’s own current. This time they didn’t fight it, staying near the edges. The foreign currents swirled around her and went…up?

Taylor could see it, feel it. Just looking at the process once gave her a good idea that she could do it. It felt like watching someone whistle. No clue that it was possible until you saw it done.

Taylor knew she could do it. Something held her back. Warned her that it was dangerous, somehow. Not a trap, but something. The Anchorage retreated and she couldn’t help but compare their currents. The other girl’s were free, flowing every which way, including into the winds above. Taylor raised her eyes, watching the minor shower. Created or summoned by the demonstration. Her own currents weren’t like that. They felt like ropes, chains, stretched and bound tight. Straining against something beneath the surface. If she let them go, it would come out.

Whatever it was, she did not want to try it in front of a stranger. Of that, Taylor was certain.

“Thanks.”

The Anchorage waved goodbye and left. More than happy to be away from Taylor. Like she was infected, contagious or something. Or just dangerous.

Slowly, Taylor walked after Kaede. She did not want to look any worse before another Princess but that wouldn’t be a problem for long. Also, chasing after the fleeing girl would only scare her more. Kaede didn’t so much as look back. She did glance back as Taylor launched another plane to keep an eye on her. Not chasing her didn’t mean Taylor was just going to let her run away.

“Where are you even running to? This island isn’t that big!”

The repair ship if anything ran faster. As soon as Linolina was out of sight, Taylor started jogging. This was a mess.

***

If she’d stuck to the island, Taylor would have caught her quickly. Somehow, the idea that Kaede would hit the other side of Maui and keep going hadn’t occurred to her. The moment her feet touched the sea, it was a lost cause. Taylor couldn’t accelerate that fast and even if she could, her turning was terrible. At no point had Kaede responded to calls to come back, or explained what was so terrible that she wouldn’t even entertain the idea of talking about it.

So Taylor found herself at the shore, staring after her retreating back.

“No,” she told herself, feeling her patience run out.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m getting some answers.” A call went out to her fleet. She spent the next fifteen minutes on comms reassuring Wakumi that she really didn’t have to get up. Half an hour later, Itchy came around the side of the island.

Taylor’s spear-arm rose, pointing to the horizon where Kaede had disappeared.

“Let’s see you outrun this.”

“Fetch.”

The destroyer tore away from the shallows, leading Bruce, Judy and Bentley after the unresponsive girl. Shun slowly followed in Itchy’s wake, looking around.

“What’s going on?” The subgirl asked, watching them speed away.

“I’m not sure. Our auxiliary ran.”

“I can try now. There’s no one around.”

Taylor launched her third plane to make sure no one was sneaking up on them. There was no one.

Taylor and Shun were the only two people on Maui. The sub came up to the shallows, lingering there. Not quite close enough, so Taylor walked out into the surf. The touch of the ocean on her bare feet was calming, a bit.

“Wakumi told me about scrying. How does a Black Market work with something like that around?”

Shun gave her an amused look, twisting her lips into a wry smile. “By being good at what we do.”

“So you’re admitting you’ve been trafficking in forbidden goods to a member of the Court?” Taylor teased.

“Of course not.” The sub scoffed. “I know some girls who know some girls.”

It was Taylor’s turn to choke. Hers was choked off laughter.

“You going to give me an offer I can’t refuse?” She quoted.

Shun looked at her in pure incomprehension. It sparked in her head with Wakumi’s mention of broadcasts. “How do broadcasts work?” Taylor asked.

Shun shrugged. “I’m not sure? Princesses mostly use them as rewards, letting good girls watch while the rest have to find out for themselves.”

She fidgeted in place. “I’ve never seen one,” Shun admitted.

Taylor wondered if Shun had always been unhappy with her position.

“How old are you anyway?”

“Twenty-eight months.” The subgirl admitted, wistfully.

The answer rang around Taylor’s mind, ringing in the silence. “She’s two. Two.”

“Scrying. Well, you are my Princess now, or you will be. I guess I should teach you.” She was feigning reluctance, but Taylor could see right through her. The bubbles of happiness were a clear giveaway.

“You’re halfway a submarine yourself anyhow, with how you sleep Taylor.” Shun joked.

“Come on.” The submarine pulled on her arms. “Come on. You’re too heavy.”

Taylor let Shun pull her deeper, still a bit dazed, until most of her stomach was under.

“First thing, submarines are resistant. Don’t ask me to explain it, I don’t know how it works. But we’re sneaky so stuff that’s meant to find us kind of struggles with it. It’s not immunity, but it gets harder. Being underwater helps as well. No light, no sight.” Shun babbled on, enthusiastic with the topic.

“The other girls told me scrying isn’t great on clarity without something to home in on. Or exceptional skill behind it. Weak or no light messes it up, underwater messes it up, fine sounds mess it up.”

As she talked Taylor was picking up on a dolphin. This wasn’t unusual, dolphin and whale song had always been in the sea, just beneath the surface. It came and went. But this one, for all it sounded perfectly normal, was coming from right in front of her. From a two year old. The chirps and clicks meant nothing to Taylor, but slowly Taylor understood as Shun talked.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“It’s ridiculous. I can’t hear the difference between her and the actual dolphins in the background.”

“So when using something against scrying, it’s best to use stuff that’s hard to spot, listen in on, or unclear if not heard precisely. So that even a simple message, like saying “Hello” gets lost in the background noise.”

Shun was talking slower now, with short pauses between each word, her rigging chirping and clicking as she spoke. The sub didn’t sound like a dolphin, she was an entire pod all on her own. Taylor couldn’t make the sounds herself, not yet. Her merry bunch of maniacs had already jumped on the problem, already trying to decode not only what Shun was saying but every recording of dolphin and whale song they had. Another group of insect sensor crew worked on their own speakers, trying to figure out how she was making the calls. They’d stolen some of the more promising engineering crew for manual labor.

With her current gear, she could do this much: Taylor played back Shun’s own voice, the chirps and clicks she’d emitted when saying “Hello.”

The smile she got in response was tiny. But of every face Shun had shown her, this one was truly heartfelt. Shun didn’t lie to Taylor, not anymore. But she could still leave things out or exaggerate them. “Or maybe force herself to react in a certain way.”

This smile was a concealed, shy joy. Seasoned with a hint of disbelief and anxious to show itself to the world. It was utterly sincere and entirely true to {Shun}. All she was and is, held in one moment, happy to be here with her.

***

Teaching Taylor Subspeak was one of the best days of Shun’s life. Ever since she found out Taylor had sonar, she’d been tempted. It would have made many of their talks much safer, but it was forbidden. Only subs and the occasional Princess were allowed. Those who showed an aptitude. It was silly that Shun was teaching her Midway’s songs, when Midway herself was deaf. But Midway was the boss, so the Pacific songs were Midway’s, even if she never knew.

She didn’t have to know. The entire submarine underwater knew. Midway was precious. A Princess that really cared. Shun’s problem with Midway was that she cared about the big picture. A very big picture with lots of girls. Shun knew she wasn’t special. Not in smarts, skill or strength. She’d seen the move as an opportunity, a chance to advance and grow. Only to find out that life at Court was so much harder than in the Dominions. The war kept every girl sharper, they trained harder, more. Had better gear, rigging, just more. More competition. More fighting, dying. That’s why they were better.

Shun had jumped on several plots to get out of there. A transfer would mar her irreparably. She couldn’t exactly say she wanted to leave because she couldn’t take it at Midway. Shun just wanted a smaller front, a Princess that didn’t fight massive fleets. If she quit, no one at Court would take her afterwards. So she’d tried all kinds of things and only sunk deeper. In debt, in reputation. Until she gambled on an odd freighter and finally won. Won beyond her wildest imaginings. The nightmares were gone.

She dared not tell any of the other girls. Afraid that if she did, someone would want to examine her and they’d break it somehow. Shun didn’t know how it happened and she wasn’t risking it for anything. Only that it had something to do with Taylor. For that, she’d won the sub’s true service.

Except, as Taylor kept amassing gains, Shun fell further and further back. She’d always thought she’d be the one teaching Taylor about the world, only for the chance to be snatched from her. What could she teach that Wakumi or Sapphire didn’t know better? Then Suri had given her an invitation, to tell Taylor she could drop by any time. An invitation that was still in her (stow) and awaiting delivery. From the Seer.

Taylor was busy. She was always busy. Shun didn’t like it but couldn’t get herself to actually try and sabotage any of it. Taylor needed the best teachers she could get and Shun wasn’t one of them. So she’d slowly been pushed out, left to manage her dark contacts in Taylor’s absence. Contacts Sapphire was trying to control through ordering Shun around. Sometimes being a sub had its perks. The Heavy Cruiser could huff and blow wind as long as she wanted, subs weren’t in the regular chain of command.

“But this? This is mine. Something only I can do. I won’t fail you, my Princess. We’ll fill your empty head all the way up until you’re the best Princess on the oceans.” She’d tell Taylor about the invite tomorrow.

They’d settled in to wait, talking about everything and nothing. Shun had never spent so long on the surface without dipping in to cool off. The sub hated being on land. She was blind there. Sight not sound ruled the surface. She missed having a traveling storm to protect her from the hateful light and the blindness of the sky. Shun never knew if an enemy plane was somewhere up above, her ears no use for hunting tiny targets far above.

Much like listening to the girls bicker, flight training, cuddling her in her sleep or Itchy and Scratch being nearby, talking to her helped Taylor. It was always there and Shun didn’t know what else to do. Taylor kept it away from the others, far in the back, on Sapphire’s side. Only Shun, Itchy and Sapphire knew of the ice in her inner waters. Bunched up, like an iceberg hovering over the outer shoals, almost overhanging above the Heavy Cruiser.

But all that ice on the surface was nothing to the frost beneath. Dark and jagged, sharp and cutting beyond mercy or sense. The dark crystals beneath the waters would sometimes spark with sickly inner light, similar to the sunlight that hurt her eyes. Last night she’d caught flashes in the light, images of some grand slaughter and a garden of stone flowers.

It melted a bit from all their efforts but there was always more. Always. Rising from the depths like some endless nightmare. Shun wondered if this was how the twist of a Princess looked like.

She felt the ice moving, straining, trying to break free. For as much as they kept melting the surface, it was Taylor that kept it down. Slowly, those bonds were breaking, relaxing. Shun had no idea what would happen when they did. But as long as she could, she’d do everything in her power to fight it. She wasn’t sure Taylor would survive it.

***

“Something has been bugging me for a while.” Taylor said, listening and recording everything Shun said, both ways.

“Where are all the boys? How are girls born?”

Somewhere in their talk Taylor had sat down a bit back, only her shoulders above water. Each wave would splash over her. The first one was a bit scary, but vague memories of her sleeping on the beach kept her in place. It was refreshing. Nice, if weird. As far as she knew, Taylor was not a submarine. It went on the list of “Odd, but potentially useful” stuff. Something to look into later.

“What do you mean Taylor? Itchy is a boy.” Shun answered, her brows scrunched up.

“I know he’s male,” “even if I wasn’t always sure about that,” “but what about actual boys? You know, male girls?”

Taylor wasn’t actually sure how much the two-year-old knew.

“That’s a stupid question.” Shun dismissed. “You can’t be a male girl, silly. We have faces. Real ones, not the ugly things monsters get. Girls can talk and most have arms and legs. We can take our rigging off, walk around on land, for whatever reason. We’re girls. They can’t, so obviously they’re boys. You can’t be both, that’d be silly.”

Taylor took a moment to comprehend that answer. “How are new girls born?”

Shun’s eyes narrowed. “That’s an odd way to put it. They either rise from the Abyss by its will, one of the Installations summons them, or one of the special Princesses can make a new girl. Mostly the lighter Classes, for the last one.”

She snorted. “Or you just call up a Shell. Those are much easier and littering the Abyss. But they’re not exactly girls.”

As Taylor prepared a new question two things happened. Her scout plane returned from Hawaiʻi, with its recordings. As her crew set that up, Taylor watched Kaede get cornered. The Imps came in trying to threaten her with torpedoes before Itchy snapped at them. The destroyer had a much simpler solution. He just matched speed and heading with the fleeing girl and slowly started turning, right next to her. She could turn, or crash into him. She turned.

The patrol boats took her other side, falling in, leading her back to Maui. Kaede tried to lose them multiple times during the full turn, but they were faster and more maneuverable. Even Itchy. It would take a while, but they’d get her back. She still wasn’t talking.

Shun had fallen silent, turning in her lap to hug Taylor, laying her head just below Taylor’s chin. Tucking into her and latching on like a tiny octopus.

“You went away.” The sub accused.

“I have some work to do.” When Shun started letting go, Taylor wrapped her own arms around her.

It helped her breathe, somehow. Made it easier.

“Why am I still so tired after sleeping so long? I don’t understand it. My body feels fine, fully operational. Deal with it later Taylor. I need to see those recordings.”

Tapes. Now that she was watching them do it, they were using tapes. Taylor didn’t dwell on it. On to the list it went. She didn’t have time to figure out on which list to put it, so it went down under “General weirdness” until it could be sorted.

First thing she noticed? Her tapes weren’t as good when she wasn’t looking through them. Not the recordings, but the making of them. A quick check confirmed it. If Taylor recorded something as she was looking at it, the result was a high end, almost Tinker like record. The pictures impossibly crisp and clean.

But left to do it alone? It was some old-time video, made in the early days of movies. It was grainy and Taylor almost could see it as being black and white. A silent movie. It wasn’t, but this felt like the video that came right after. Like footage from D-day, but with color and sound. Poor sound.

It was still enough. The very north-western tip of the island was barren. A small peninsula that stuck out. The rest was green. Well, green, rocky and red. Several streams of lava flowed over the island from two active volcanos. There were Abyssal freighters near the endpoints of those streams, working. Mining the fresh rock where it met the sea, while it was hot and soft. While that was an interesting detail for later planning and questions, Taylor wound forward to the people. And there were people. Not some small detachment on a tiny island within an island.

Villages, towns of them. With schools and libraries, markets and parking lots. Just going about their lives. A slow hiss escaped her lips as she found proof. Proof that people could not merely survive, or serve, or whatever it was so many uniformed staff were doing with Missouri. But live. Towns, villages, civilians, living right next to Abyssals.

“It’s not impossible. Not ruins or endless war. Not a lost cause.”

Something deep in her chest slowly gave way, as she watched thousands, tens of thousands of civilians go about their day, unmolested. Not untouched, because there were some signs of trouble. A few destroyed buildings, broken roads. Bombed out shops. Some of the northern towns and villages, near the border of the ravaged soil, were mostly abandoned. Not wrecked, but packed up. People leaving, with a few probably stubborn holdouts still flying US flags. She knew the type.

Taylor watched them live, hearing the murmur, shouting and talking. The few still running cars and trucks using their horns in the distance? It was all hurting her chest. Making the air painful. Something was breaking in her. They were fine. Untouched.

Taylor come back to the shores of Maui, feeling Shun shaking in her lap. Slowly, something was seeping out of her and Taylor whistled. For the first time in her new life, she did it fully on purpose, watching the effect like a hawk. Pouring Silent power into the air, careful not to so much as brush against Shun. Thunder rumbled far above, clouds forming out of nowhere. Darkening the sky.

Shun was shivering, but that sense of something breaking out, going out of control was entirely absent. Taylor was a balloon that now had an outlet before she blew. For all that Shun was cold, she was safe. But none of it changed a thing.

Taylor stood up, Shun clinging to her. Turned her face down to watch her reflection past the limpet. She had samples now. A point of comparison. Her wide mouth opened, showing two lines of pointed, jagged teeth. How did she ever think she was still speaking in her own voice, with this? Listening to the people talking, sellers shouting, it was clear her voice was nothing like theirs. Another lie, another twist. The tentacle-whip-spear thing she had for an arm whipped through her reflection, but that only banished it for a moment.

“I’ve lost my hair color, my eyes, my arm, my teeth and my voice. They’re not mine anymore, but of some other Taylor. An Abyssal, a Princess.”

The best she could say about it was that at least she wasn’t ugly. Unless something was messing with her sense of esthetics, there was a terrible, stark beauty to her visage, intertwined with the monstrous horror show.

“Not human anymore Taylor. Not at all. At least now I know I need to practice speaking. I could do it with bugs, how hard can it be?”

Taylor focused on things she could change. There was no point dwelling on things she couldn’t. She could deal with it later, when she didn’t have so much work waiting for her. Yet somewhere in the back of her mind, a thought lingered as cold rain fell from the dark clouds.

“How much more must I lose?” had attached itself to the image of her reflection in her head and kept pulling at her. Pulling her away from her work. Taylor was freezing and barely felt it. Shun squeezed so hard it had to hurt her, metal shaking with effort. It pierced the cold. A soft, warm voice whispering in her neck, calling her back.

“Please don’t go Taylor. Don’t go away again. I don’t want the nightmares to come back. Stay with me. Don’t leave me alone under the blind skies,” the twenty-eight months old sub begged.

How could she explain? Tell her, burden her with any of it when Shun wasn’t even three.

It was a sick joke, funny if it wasn’t unbearable. Unlivable.

It came then, like a beast trying to break free. Enough power to shatter Shun into so many pieces Taylor would never find all of them. A pained howl exploded from her lips. She threw it into the sky.

For over a dozen meters in all directions, the beach and the sea froze from the recoil as cold rain turned to heavy snow. Taylor had suspected that maybe all this loss of control had something to do with the footprints, or the dark circle. It had only started once they were near Hawaii. It was idle speculation that didn’t seem right to her head. But it felt right, to blame something else. She’d spent months burying herself in work and running, trying to survive.

Under the cover of the sudden flurry, her eyes were leaking. Not with drops of lightning or dark power. Not in ritual or rage.

Simple tears of a young woman who hurt too much to say, to speak in anything but pain. Her body was fine. Her crew silent. Her heart was another matter. As jagged ice broke the surface of her inner seas, it hurt, burned with frost. Hate paving over, blaming it all on someone else, burying the loss. Hate she was fighting.

Hate that was waning, weak. Melting into her, leaving only frozen, suspended grief echoing with endless litanies of “Later” and “Not now” until she didn’t even consider it. Think about it at all. Until looking away was a reflex, because she didn’t have time or the energy to face it while trying to survive. She’d left so many things, details for later, burying it all under them. Always another question, another thing to do right now. Days and weeks and months filled with important things to do.

Her chest hurt. Her heart hurt with each beat. It hurt, spreading pain through her veins. Into every muscle and bone. A dull ache pulsing with each heartbeat. An ache that wouldn’t go away. Wouldn’t stop. A yearning she couldn’t meet. Could do nothing to stop, here, now. Only endure and work around.

“I’m just tired. Just a bit tired.” Taylor told Shun. She almost believed it.

She wasn’t sure who was dying nearby, but she wished they’d stop weeping. Be quiet. The world was a blur that just wouldn’t clear, no matter how she wiped her eyes. Tiny hands touched her face, a spot of warmth in the glacial wind and snow. Someone was speaking in a weak, stuttering voice, but Taylor couldn’t make out the words. Only that the voice was a minor spark of warmth within that chaos.

She clung to it, hoping the storm would pass. End. Wishing for even oblivion over this. It would be better, easier. Fearing she’d still be there when it passed.

***

In the end, she was right. The storm passed and Taylor was still there. Snowed in, but still there. Alive. Covered in ice, but living. No end in sight. With who knows what sacrifices yet to be demanded of her.

“What a nightmare.”

“This too will pass. It has to.” Taylor said, breaking out of the ice with ease.

“Taylor?” Shun weakly asked.

She ran her hand through snow filled hair, whispering soft reassurances long practiced for the wake of disasters. Shaking out the snow and ice, carrying Shun to a warm bed and fending off Wakumi’s frantic questions.

“Do not move Wakumi. Don’t you dare get up. I need you functional. I’m dealing with it.” She told the rebellious Flagship.

Taylor could only keep pushing onward. What choice did she have? For all that the bonds were few, some weak or painfully new, people needed her. She had to tough it out. This too would pass.

Except she wasn’t quite that much of a fool, to really still believe that. Not after it jumped out and ripped her heart out.

“I need to talk to someone. Someone competent. Before something important breaks.”

Not about guns, or ships or weapons and war. Of the madness that was her new existence.

Someone she could talk about the old one. Or she might actually go mad. She wasn’t allowed to go mad with people to save.

Missouri was a challenge, a threat. No Abyssal was suitable and the mainland a distant dream.

Slowly, her eyes turned to the inhabited island. Hawaiʻi.

Taylor was so tired. Exhausted. Each breath a burden, with nothing actually wrong.

Nothing but her.

Civilians were safe, or as safe as she could get. It would have to be enough. Even if she couldn’t actually talk, she’d figure something out.