“And the captain allows this?”
Janx regarded Avery solemnly. “Cap’n is hopin’ it will attack—so his men’ll have to kill it.”
“Why?”
“Some valuable parts on those things. Why, the ink-gas alone has properties alchemists kill for, an’ the glands that change color—well, it’s worth the risk to some captains, and ol’ Greggory ain’t one o’ the best.” Janx indicated one of the two smoking chimneys, the aft one, where a riot of colorful coral stalks rose swarming with various fauna. Seedpores could infest a ship, but most captains kept their fruits cleared back—not so Captain Greggory.
“I hope they miss,” Ani said.
“I hope it goes away,” Avery said.
“Where would be the sport in that?” said a new voice, and all three turned to regard the speaker, who strolled toward the bow. Ani recoiled, shrinking against Avery’s side.
“You leave her alone!” Ani shouted.
The woman she’d addressed—Admiral Jessryl Sheridan, former captain of the whaling ship Janx and Avery had worked on, traitor and spy—reached the gaggle of sailors at the bow and said, “Let me take a crack at ‘er, boys.”
They turned, laughing, then sobered. They may not be Navy men, but she was an admiral. One handed her the rifle and stepped back. Avery felt a twinge of discomfort at the sight of Sheridan armed, but she made no move to use it on any of the humans. She examined the weapon smartly, checked the chamber, then put it to her shoulder and squinted down the length of the barrel toward the squid.
“Leave her alone,” Ani repeated, stomping her foot for emphasis.
Sheridan fired.
The squid fell.
Like a great diaphanous gown with its tentacles billowing up around it, the floating horror plunged toward the sea and splashed down with a terrific spray of water. The sailors, too surprised to cheer, regarded Sheridan in awe. They’d spent approximately two dozen rounds on the creature, and she’d felled it in one.
Ani stood paralyzed for a moment, then stormed over, and Avery had never been so proud. Sheridan, handing back the rifle to an admiring sailor, watched her come in shrewdly.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Ani said. “She wasn’t doing anything to you.”
Putting on a motherly smile, Sheridan bent over and reached out to pat Ani on the shoulder, but Ani flinched back. The girl stared defiantly up at Sheridan with her hands made into fists at her sides, and Avery and Janx approached to referee.
“She was beautiful and you killed her,” Ani said.
“She was an animal,” Sheridan said. “She would have eaten you without a thought—except possibly yum.”
“I should shoot you again!”
“Ani,” Avery said. “We don’t talk like that.” He was on the cusp of asking Ani to apologize but realized how absurd that would be; Ani probably should shoot Sheridan again.
“Fine,” Ani said and stomped back toward her cabin.
“That went well,” Sheridan said, straightening. She spoke almost sadly, her eyes on the girl’s diminishing shape.
“You did rather deserve it,” Avery said. He could feel Janx tensing beside him, as if preparing to hurl Sheridan overboard. The idea amused Avery.
“Did I?” said Sheridan. “All I did was help the crew make a catch. It’s not a whale, but then I’m not a big strong whaler.” She said this as her gaze moved to Janx.
“Bitch,” Janx said, and went to shepherd Ani; a whaling ship was not a place for a little girl alone. The guard assigned to watch the group hesitated, then stayed with Avery. He traded a look with the guard assigned to watch Sheridan and shrugged.
“Alone at last,” Sheridan said to Avery as sailors bustled around them and Captain Greggory emerged, calling for the ship to haul ass for the squid before it was all et up by the creepy crawlies. Dutifully, the ship started in its direction, and indeed Avery could make out the water bubbling vigorously around the flailing, lifeless tentacles of the squid. He felt uncomfortable being alone—nearly—with Sheridan. He’d been the one to save her life, performing surgery on her in the ship’s crude medical bay at his own insistence, and he had also overseen her recovery, but always there had been people around—other doctors, nurses, patients. Now there were only the guards, but he was so used to them by now that they almost didn’t count.
“You two could get along,” Avery said. “There’s no reason we have to be enemies now. We'll reach Hissig in a few weeks. Home. Once we get there things will take their course.”
“I’ll go to prison, you mean. Stand trial. Be executed as a traitor.”
What was there to say? Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. Avery and his group would have to move swiftly to ensure that Sheridan was not given safe harbor by the Navy.
“I could testify in your defense,” he said. “As a character witness. Tell the judge why you did what you did, what your motivations were. Tell him that you were only doing what you thought right, acting in the best interests of humanity, misguided as you were. It might affect your sentencing.”
She eyed him with an unreadable look, and he glanced away.
“I was right,” she said softly. “You see that now. After Ethali.” When he said nothing, she added, “You beat Octung, not them. The puppets, not the puppeteers. And they will prevail. Many more will die than should have. Unless steps are taken.”
He started to say something, to tell her about the Starfish samples, but thought better of it. Better if she didn’t know.
“Why are you on deck?” he said. “We’re supposed to trade off shifts so that we won’t have situations like this.”
She did a strange thing. She reached out and squeezed his hand. He could feel the pressure of her strong fingers through his glove. He was so startled he didn’t pull away.
“Things won’t go the way you think they will, Doctor.” So. They were back to Doctor now. “I will not be able to protect you.”
“What do you—?”
“Just keep your head down.”
“You mean once we reach Ghenisa?”
