Deck Officer Charlotte Brown

By the time I was seven years old, I’d given up on my dream to be an Ocean Patrol pirate-catcher. Too dangerous, my mother said. But still I longed for the open skies, the breeze on my face. My desire for flight rekindled when I learned about the mission of the Mapmaker’s Guild.

By the time I was eight years old, I’d picked out what I would name my airship, as soon as I became the captain: Somniare. From a Latin word that means ‘to dream’. And it will be a dream, waking up in my captain’s suite every morning. Relaxing with a cup of tea and watching the sunrise from here in the air. The hardest work I’d ever do would be signing paperwork. What a life.

Here I am, at twenty years old. Captaining an airship is my dream. And I will do whatever it takes to get there. Even if it means I have to pick rope fibers from under my fingernails every night. Even if it means I have to listen to more of Yardley’s idiotic ideas. Sharp as a marble, he is. Even I, with barely two years of deck work under my belt, would make a better officer than him.

Jemmett doesn’t agree with me. He’s content to splice rope all day. On my airship, that attitude would never fly. I want dedicated crew members who strive to do their best every day; who want to move upward on the ladder of life. I’m making my own way up, one rung at a time.

Junior Engineer Hallie Kingston

Chimney sweep

Gutter cleaner

Dishwasher

Line cook

Janitor

Plumber

Maintenance head

Apprentice mechanic

Junior engineer

I sighed as I crossed “Junior Engineer” off my list. After my near-death experience yesterday, fixing the propeller, I needed to find a new profession. After almost 15 years of working, you’d think I would have found a career by now. Nope. No job has been worth it so far.

I liked being the head of maintenance at that private school. But when he broke up with me, I knew it was my time to go. I packed my bags and left that very same night. By the next day, I had travelled halfway across the country and started training as a mechanic.

It’s not the constant motion of the ship that bothers me. And I can deal with the bland meals, the mediocre company.

It’s the long list that keeps me up at all hours of the night. The long list of items that need fixed. In our tool room, Barry keeps a running list charcoaled on the wall. Every time I suit up, I read the words and imagine the amount of labor needed. Every morning when I wake up, I mentally look at the list and decide what needs tinkered on that day.

The Quaerere has more problems than the list, though. When (not if) emergencies pop up, they take precedence over The List. Just yesterday, I repaired the propeller and unclogged the kitchen sink.

I’m tired of holding this scrap heap together with homemade bolts. I’m tired of fixing other people’s problems. I’m tired of being a mechanic.

The minute we land in Londinium, I’m getting off this ship and never looking back. I’m ready for a change.

Junior Navigator Louis Packer

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Sydney has been acting strange recently. I keep hearing him mumble to himself. And every time he leaves a room, his eyes shift right to left as he passes through the doorway. I don’t know what his trouble is, but he’s certainly never acted like this before.

Maybe he is anxious. This is to be his last trip on the Quaerere, as many of the crew members will retire after we return. Does he yearn for the open seas, and shudder at the thought of a bland retirement? Does he stare out the window, trying to memorize the pattern of the waves and sculptures of twisting ice that sparkle below us?

And yet even the vast ice plains do not sparkle as brightly as my dear Melanie’s eyes. We parted at the airport, our faces wet with goodbye tears. What a pity it is - and sometimes I pity myself - that I must make this voyage at my father’s insistence.

My father, Sir Russell Packer, is (two knocks on the wall) the chairman of the Mapmaker’s Guild Committee. He oversees all the mapmakers, their voyages, and their outputs. Mapmaking is a family affair stretching back at least six generations.

But mapmaking holds no appeal to me, at least I can be a navigator. I still hate being away from Melanie for so long. I know, in the back of my mind, that she will be okay without me. I think of her constantly. I wonder if she does the same.

I find, when I’m supposed to be drafting our course, that I am actually designing her wedding bouquet in my head. In my imagination, I walk through our flower shop, picking up long-stemmed roses and leafy ferns, binding them with wisteria and ivy.

Our wedding date is set for three days after I return. I count down the days until we are together, when my happiness will finally be made complete.

Until then, until this trip is over, I keep my head down. I do my job. And I design bouquets and boutonnieres from imaginary flowers.

Junior Engineer Cale Pickford

I love being an engineer! What an amazing job! I feel so useful every single day, every time I fix a problem. And when I catch a problem before it grows or perform preventative maintenance, my heart grows a few sizes.

What? I’m not joking; I really do love my job. I’ve been fixing things for as long as I can remember. Toby would be so proud to see me now. I’m on a real airship, keeping it afloat. I have a full belly every night and the whole crew is like a big group of friends.

But Paul and Hallie, my closest coworkers, don’t seem to understand the riches that we have. They constantly grumble about the state of the airship, complain about the food, and just plain don’t appreciate what’s here. “Look on the bright side,” I try to tell them, but they scoff at me, content to keep their faces in the shadows.

The new mapmaker, Daisy, seems nice enough. I heard she makes good maps. I wish she didn’t. The more flyovers there are, the longer we’re out here. And the longer we’re out here, the more time I have to live.

Chief Engineer Bartholomew Boysen

I knocked on the door, trying to avoid shaking the hinges too much. This door has had loose hinges for two years, but it’s such a low priority that we’ve let it be. It’s grown weaker since the last time I knocked on this door. I was here for a different reason then, and significantly more nervous.

“Come in,” Captain Springett calls. There was a time when I thought I would be able to call her Adelaide, when we could be alone together without a desk between us.

She sees my face. “Ah, Engineer Boysen! Have a seat, would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you. I only wanted to stay for a moment. I have some concerns about the integrity of the ship that I thought you might want to know about.”

“Is it the old bolts again? I thought we’d replaced all of them already.”

“No, the bolts are taken care of. It’s really the whole ship that’s gone to pieces. Quaerere is old and tired, the last thing it needed was a trip to Antarctica.”

She sighed, looking past me and out the window where miles of ice shone in the sunlight. “I know. I’m just praying that we make it back to Londinium before she finally quits on us. You and your team can keep patching up what fails, but just know that the ship will be scrapped as soon as we return.”

“I’m sorry to hear it’ll be scrapped. We’ve spent so much time on this ship, I’m not sure if I could get used to a new one.”

“They all have the same layout, you know.”

“It’s not really that, it’s more… the people that I’ll miss.” I try to catch her eye.

She sighs again. “Barry, if you try to bring this up again…”

“I know. So I won’t.”

“Thank you for your time, Engineer. You are dismissed.”

Boatswain Jemmett Mainwaring

On Father’s ship, I could barely walk for the untidy piles. On Father’s ship, I couldn’t do one thing without a barrage of criticism. On Father’s ship, two bottles would be empty by noon.

What had caused him to turn to alcohol? What tragic event in his past, his childhood, twisted the roots of his young mind and caused it to grow crooked? Whatever it was, the effects of it did not end with him. I, too, am affected by his decisions. When will he notice, I kept wondering. He never did. So I left. Quaerere needed a boatswain and Captain Springett seemed to like me, so here I am.

That was two years ago. I’ve kind of kept to myself while I’m here, which affords me the luxury of keeping an eye on others. I know lots of things about my crewmates. Like how Charlotte wants to be a captain, and Adelaide wants to retire. Hallie has been through like ten jobs, and now she’s realizing that she doesn’t want to be an engineer. I’m trying to figure out some things about Daisy and Sydney. I think they are keeping secrets.

I like learning secrets. It makes me feel like I’m part of a very exclusive club. I wonder what other things I can learn, what other details I can glean from listening.