Gillian Anderson: The Sound of Seas

There was more than just the clear sunlight outside the cabin. She squinted as she saw the yellowish glow that suffused the area just below the rail. She noticed that a section of that rail had been broken, that taut bands of hemp had been pulled across the narrow opening.

Crew members were moving swiftly but without panic along the ropes. It reminded her of the crew of a windjammer bracing for a storm, adjusting the sails, preparing for heavy winds.

Standor Qala was forward. The glow was more intense in that direction, girdling the pointed prow of the ship with a nimbus. Caitlin began to approach the officer only to find herself stumbling forward, dropping facedown on the deck, her arms forward, fingers pointing.

Helping hands gathered round her while voices called for assistance. The Standor turned and rushed toward them.

“Bayarma, what are you doing?” Qala asked.

“It’s Caitlin,” she replied in Galderkhaani. “And you must get away from here.”

The Standor indicated for two crew members to carry her back to the sleeping cabin. She followed the woman in then sent the two men away. Caitlin curled protectively around Vilu, spooning, cradling his head while Qala approached. Supporting herself on one of the ropes from which the hammock was suspended, the Standor leaned over the boy and the woman. Her face was drawn, her eyes pained.

“What is it?” Caitlin asked.

“The galdani was using a mineral he discovered—he fell to his death.” With a motion of her forehead she indicated the broken rail.

“Was it a stone? One of the tower tiles?”

Qala nodded. “He said that you two felt it first. What is this? What’s happening? How are you back?”

“I used one of the tiles… in my time,” Caitlin told her. “ Standor , you must listen to me. You appear to be heading inland.”

“I am.”

“I beg you to reverse your course, head out to sea.”

“That isn’t possible,” the Standor said as she rose. “I must find out what’s happening to the columns. I have been looking inside the simu-varkas . Something is causing it to burn from within. Apparently others as well.”

“It’s the Source,” Caitlin assured her. She didn’t want to say more unless she had to, lest Qala attempt to stop Vol.

“The expansion of the Source is not yet complete and the conduits to the new tunnels remain closed,” Qala replied.

“It’s the Source,” Caitlin repeated.

“How do you know this? Because you are from the future?”

“That’s all I can tell you. The Source is going to release a great deal of energy and it’s best that your airship—all airships, if you can signal them—go to sea. Boats as well.”

Qala shook her head. “Only the Great Council in Aankhaan can authorize a flotilla. They are prohibited by the Theories of Conflict.”

“Then take that responsibility yourself,” she said. “You will save many lives.”

Qala’s expression darkened. “You are not telling me all you know.”

“I cannot,” she said. “There is too much at risk.”

The Standor turned her back and stood silently facing the wall. Caitlin held tighter to Vilu. Once again, she didn’t know how much time she had here. Her primary goal could not be Qala or the airship. She had to wake the boy and find out if Jacob was still present.

She kissed the boy’s temple once, then again. He stirred.

“Hey there, Captain Nemo,” she said deep into his ear. Even when Jacob couldn’t hear her, he felt the vibrations of her voice.

Vilu rolled his shoulders, reached back to touch the woman.

“Boy of mine,” Caitlin went on. “It’s time to rise and do something wonderful!”

Jacob opened his eyes and then smiled in recognition. “Mother?”

The boy turned and threw his arms around her so hard he nearly choked her. She let him.

Qala had turned and was watching them.

“You are both here, now?” the Standor asked.

Caitlin nodded.

“And you will leave… by the tiles?”

“Hopefully,” she said. “We will return the bodies of Vilu and Bayarma to them.”

“Mom, how did you find me?” Jacob asked.

“Dream magic,” she said. “Like in The Wizard of Oz .”

“I believe you,” he replied, releasing her so he could gesture. “I can hear, now. That’s magic.” The motions came naturally to him and were a beautiful thing to see.

She kissed his forehead. “You know we have to go,” she said.

“Home,” he offered. “Yes, I know. I miss Arfa. And I’m missing school. A lot of it.”

“I’ll tell your teachers I took you on a trip, which is kinda true,” she said.

As they spoke, Caitlin felt the pull of the tower beneath them. It was causing the hammock to sway, to sag. She threw her arms around her son and looked up at Standor Qala.

“I’m sorry about the galdani ,” she said.

Qala smiled graciously. “The winds are unusually restive. I must see to the course.” She started toward the curtain.

“Thank you for all you’ve done,” Caitlin said. “If this doesn’t work, if the boy and I are separated—”

Qala stopped and looked back. “Whoever is here, I will look after him,” she said.

The Standor left the cabin and Caitlin broke the embrace with her son. “Jacob, I want you to do exactly as I tell you. All right?”

“I heard everything you just said,” he said, grinning.

“That’s fine, just make sure you do it,” she replied. “I’m going to hold your left hand and point to the ground like this.” She demonstrated how to extend two fingers out and down. “I want you to do the same with your right hand. Got it?”

He nodded.

“We’re both going to feel kind of tingly, but that’s how we’re going to wake from this dream.”

“Like Dorothy Gale did.”

“That’s right,” Caitlin said, smiling.

“That’s better than being attacked by a giant squid like Captain Nemo did,” Jacob said.

“I would think they both present problems,” Caitlin replied. She took his hand and pointed. “Just hold your hand like this, no matter what you feel. And don’t get itchy like you do before you talk in front of class, because you can’t say, ‘Hold everything!’ and scratch.”

“I won’t,” he said. “This isn’t my body. Maybe it won’t even happen.”

“True enough,” Caitlin said, letting go and scooching closer on the hammock. This time she took his hand for real, holding tight to his precious life itself.

As she did, she heard yelling outside, on deck.

“Something is wrong!” someone was crying. “Steam is covering Falkhaan!”

“Stay here!” Caitlin told Jacob as she flung herself from the hammock.

“What about going home?”

“I have to see what’s happening, baby,” she replied. “Promise me you won’t move!”

He crossed his heart. But as Caitlin made her way through the cabin she already knew what was wrong: the tiles were losing power, which meant that something had breached the tower. Pumped outward by the overzealous Source, magma must have broken through under the shallow shoreline and boiled the sea.

Stepping onto the deck she saw Standor Qala aft, ordering maximum speed from the flipperlike wings as, beyond, the water surged onto the shore and around the tower. It wasn’t a tsunami: water was bubbling hotly, violently around a red maelstrom just off the coast, sending waves slamming into every vessel and structure on that side of the harbor. The simu-varkas was cracking from bottom to top and literally sinking into the ground below. The topmost section broke as the tower sank, sending workers to their deaths, destroying the ancestral road beyond, kicking up clouds of sand where structural stones struck the beach. The glowing tiles within fell in arclike pieces, like a shattered ring; they were quickly submerged beneath a wave of silt and water, magma and stone, as well as homes and shops to which people were desperately clinging as they swirled out to sea.