Eoin McNamee - The Navigator

“That him?” she said to Wesley. Wesley nodded. The girl stuck out a hand. Her eyes were a curious greenish colour and she was wearing oily overalls. “Silkie’s my name, and I only threw out the fish for to save weight. I never thought about the birds.”

“Is she broke?” Wesley said, looking anxiously at the boat.

“She’s all right,” Silkie said. “She has a bit of a burn on her, but she’ll sail again. The little ones is scared though. Them Planemen was never that brave before; they come pretty close.”

“I do think the Harsh is stronger this time and they do push Johnston harder.”

“Johnston?” Owen said. “The man who has the scrapyard? I was playing there once and he chased me with dogs.”

“It’s a good thing he chased you with nothing worse,” Wesley said. “Johnston is a terrible cruel man.”

“A man though,” Owen said. “Not one of the… the Harsh?”

“No,” said Silkie. “You know the way that the Sub-Commandant is the Watcher, staying awake through the years until the Harsh return and it is time to wake the others to fight?”

“I think so,” Owen said.

“Well, Johnston is a Watcher too, except that he watches for the Harsh and makes sure that all is ready for their return.”

“His own men sleep in their Starry and he wakes them for the Harsh,” Wesley said, “The Planemen you seen attacking – they’re his men.”

“I’m starving,” Silkie said.

“You’re always starving,” said Wesley with a grin, “but you do deserve something to eat for the fright you got from them Planemen. Come on.”

Wesley led them into the nearest of the buildings. The ground floor was completely open with a big hearth at one end where a fire of driftwood crackled, a sweet smell of burning wood drifting through the room. A long table with benches on either side stood in the middle. There were children everywhere, all of them dressed poorly. Some of the smaller ones walked straight up to Owen and stared at him with large solemn eyes. The older ones climbed quickly up and down the ladder which led upstairs, or perched in the high windowsills.

Despite all the young people milling about, Owen realised that there was a sense of order. The table was being set with flat wooden plates and food was being carried in. Within minutes all the Raggies had seated themselves round the table and the older ones were serving food. Owen was put at the top of the table, beside Wesley and Silkie. Every plate was full, but no one moved to touch it. It wasn’t until Wesley pulled his plate towards him that the children grabbed their own and began to eat hungrily. Owen realised that he too was starving. There was fish and fried potatoes. He tried them and thought they tasted like fish and chips. The noise in the room died to a murmur as everyone concentrated on the food in front of them, eating rapidly with both hands.

Within minutes, every plate was empty. While the younger children carried out the crude wooden plates, Wesley, Silkie and Owen moved over to sit on the rough stone of the fireplace. As they did so, others sat on the floor in front of them or gathered on the ladders and windowsills. The sun shone through the windows and dust motes floated in the beams. Owen felt warm and full and surprisingly contented. He realised that the children were watching Wesley expectantly.

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