The saying phrase ‘smooth sailing.’ is put to life in our journey.

We boarded the vessel, successfully found and occupied out cabin and have already been fully confirmed as a passenger with the second hole punctured in our tickets. And are now being served a full course meal by the crew.

I sit next to Paige as we dined at a set tables of the ship, the waves barely a bother. Wind in her hair and sun illuminating, Paige looks absolutely gorgeous in her winter white coat, in the odd sails and bops of the ship. She looks right where she belongs.

Free, untethered and joyous. The bright smile on her lips pierces me.

Entranced, I watch as her lips flutter in movement, “What do you want to do when we get out there?” she asks, her eyes dancing between me and the tightening of her dark leather gloves.

Burrows furrowed, I mumble incoherently and annoyed at the sight of them. She doesn’t notice, stretching them over her slim hands. Those should be mittens.

“I haven’t decided.”

She gives me a look, an odd one, as though asking if I really never thought of freedom in such luscious quantities before.

And the truth was, I hadn’t. I’d never given much care to hope so carelessly before. I’d never imagined a life this much higher than the one I had. Sure, I envied the people I saw above me, but the people above me weren’t much better than it went around where I grew up.

They were simple folk. Miners. The career as a miner bore no gender discrimination in that part of Xoxia, being a miner, till today, is the surest path to getting some form of income.

But my challenges growing up by myself were a hurdle enough to keep me from daydreaming too long, it meant I envied the people, the miners, but I never had such loathsome greed to hope.

“What do you want to do? If you tell me I could get an idea of what I like.” I offer, desperate not to linger on myself too long.

She smiles and warms up to her tea, hugging the warm cup in her hand close to her lips, “Alright then, but you better think of something, and you can’t choose my thing either.”

Grinning, I nod, agreeing to her terms.

“Good!” Her cheer dampens and her eyes fall to the side, she mutters, “Back home...I mean...back home, my neighbourhood had this man, over on the corner leading out to the pharmacist, the one with the funny mustache. And this man, he...he performed these wondrous acts of disguise and play with his other self on a large screen beside him.”

“Otherself?”

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Pausing she quints as she tries to figure out a way to describe and possibly translate her time periods culture to me, “Uhhh, it was this thing where people would get like...videos of themselves doing and talking about things and then reference it themselves in real time with an audience.”

I give an understanding hum and sip.

“Arggh! Forget that, the point is, it was fun to watch and fun to try and do. I’m sure there’s some history lesson of it in schools or something. So I’m going to bring it back in this century.”

Chuckling I ask, “I do understand, to an extent at least, aren’t you saying you want to be an entertainer? Like an actor or something?” A majority of this guess comes from her avid desire for those boring showtellers on the TV.

She gives me an unsure nod followed by a shrug, “Maybe, but worry not, better shown than told so I’ll give you quite the show once I find a way to set it up in this time. Now, any thoughts on what you want to do?”

I am immediately overcome with the urge to say I want to do what she wants.

Instead I say, “I think I’ll have a nice, long nap.”

“Ah...pitiful.” she lets out an exasperated sigh at me while I laugh.

We spend some more time above the ship trying out the buffet they set aboard the deck with other patrons. Normally I’d feel out of place, fallen out of stack or lost in this kind of place. My skin would itch and crawl and all I’d want to do is get out of there but...with my hand grasping hers I feel at ease basking in the sun.

The odd large body of water holds little care for the frost that plagues the city, blossoming flowers and grass on its sides. And so the fog of cold that always lingers and hovers in the air is lifted here.

With such clear skies, it doesn’t take long to spot another ship cruising by.

It begins to slow and so do we. Eventually the two vessels get close enough that the passengers on the edge can have a conversation with one another.

Paige draws on me, rushing to the edge to grab a spot, same as the others. Excitedly, I run over with her.

Standing at the edge goes against the rules it seems, as several uniformed crew members begin to urge people away from the rails.

But much of that comes to a stop as the crew members attention is immediately diverted to what’s happening on the ship, or rather, what’s about to happen.

Chaos ensues on the other vessel as people are forced to make way for two men wielding a ladder.

Jaws drop and hands wave as the crew on both sides try to get the men to stop, but for some reason, the crew on the other ship drop to the floor the moment one of the men so much as glances their way.

Clang! Clang!

The ladder is set and quietly, with steady, heavy breathes passengers on both ships are forced to bear witness to the spectacle before them, watching as the two men cross over to the ship. Our ship.

But something rubs me the wrong way, I squeeze on Paige’s hand causing her to glance at me, worried. “What’s wrong?”

I’m not afforded the chance to answer, a loud round of applause and cheer erupts, the men have boarded the ship.

Mirth, cheer and fun comes to a crashing halt, a scream lurches out of a woman, a woman now held by her neck.

Bang! Bang!

Two shots ring out from a smoking barrel and the deck clears, people spilling to the floor and screaming.

“Silence!” the man holding the woman yells, he tosses her away and walks up to his partner.

We spend a moment in the silence, only the sounds of our hearts and the swaying waters are heard, and I stand, paralysed with fear.

The man with the gun speaks, his voice as shrill and cold as I remember, “We’re looking for a twerp, about this tall and of course, wanted by the Xoxia Police, we’re looking for The Kneecapper, or as we know him...Vern Braxwood.”