The haboob had been buffeting the sandsailors for three days now with little to no pause.
At the first sign of it the storm’s approach all three ships had been stopped and everyone crowded down below deck. The ornithopters were called back and brought below along with the animunculi who operated them. The engines had been covered and anchors set deep within the sands beneath them. All went as well as it possibly could have in preparation for such a storm as this, the volunteers who were experiencing being in this sort of weather for the first time being directed by those more experienced in the matter.
No one was quite prepared for how long this storm would last. Or how violent it would be.
Packed down in the suffocating dark and heat, separated from contact from the other two sandsailors out of necessity, each crew was left to ponder the fate of the others against the bass roar of the wind and the constant skitter-scratch of a million billion metallic nails fighting to break past the walls of their protective confines. Walls which only seemed to get thinner and thinner by the hour in the imaginations of many. Were the others alright? Had their sailors been swallowed by the desert and them along with it? Would they be next? No one knew for sure for there was no way to communicate with each ship in this weather with the equipment they had on hand.
Haboobs such as this had been accounted for in the original preparation of the operation. The amount of time allotted for the excursion and the supplies rationed had been dived out with potential weather conditions in mind, and so there was, at least, no fear of starvation or dehydration. Theoretically. Yet the crushing darkness, the humidity of dozens of bodies packed tightly against each other, the constant wailing of winds so strong that, even with the anchors planted deep to help keep steady the ships, they managed to rock each vessel on a regular basis every time the wind shifted.
Worst of all, though, was the amount of fresh air that had to be shared among so many in a space that was nearly air tight out of necessity. If it wasn’t the sands would have crept in and buried them all little by little as they found weaknesses in the ships’ structures and exploited them. That meant that breathing became one of the hardest things to do as time passed in the humid dark. Fortunately the animunculi was stationed near the hatched doors, again, out of necessity because of the weight of the sand that could pile on top of them. Only it was strong enough to push open the doors with a cascade of dust and a rush of fresh, dry air any time that the storm quieted down long enough to allow it. Each time the doors open the oppressive humidity would be replaced by a raspy dryness for a short time until the haboob began to rage once more. It was in these fleeting instances that those in the dark were graced with light from outside, and a confirmation that the others were alright, for the moment, as each animunculi synchronized oxygenation events with one another.
Marisia spent nearly every second at William’s side. The suffocating air didn’t seem so bad to her with him by her side. William didn’t seem to mind it either and she allowed herself to believe that she had something to do with that. In truth, Twilight was spending much of the time in the shelter of the Andros actively monitoring the choices of those around him, those in the Tesstess, and those in the Pequod. It felt like micromanaging, but it was better than letting anyone – especially those who were new to weathering these storms – do anything regretful like steal extra food or water, attempt to leave before the animunculi gave the all clear, or otherwise sow chaos.
Joscur and Daniellex also stuck close to William and Marisia. Daniellex kept the peace between father and daughter by sitting between them and mediating as much of their interactions as possible. While not as viscerally emotional as either of his family members, this was not easy for the stout ningen who was really feeling, for the first time, Marisia’s rebelliousness. It occurred to him that, brief, almost daily visits aside, this was, perhaps, the longest stretch of time that he had spent with his goddaughter since before the death of her mother Syla. He often found himself wishing that it were under different, less stressful, circumstances that the two of them were spending such time together. Neither she nor her father spoke while they were stowed away from the storm. Joscur would get up only to help distribute rations or get them water.
When the storm passed there was much joy to be had! Ningen and bloodling alike spilled out from beneath the decks once the animunculi simultaneously gave the signal that the weather was clear and the crews of the three sandsailors reunited with cheers and excitement beneath the triplet’s light. People kicked at the piles of sand that had accumulated on deck, waved and jeered at each other, laughing at having survived such a long and arduous storm. The celebration was cut short by the captains, who were quick, though not too quick as to spoil the moment, to remind everyone that the ships needed to be cleared and inspected before they could get moving again. An unfortunate, but necessary, reminder that if the engines were nonfunctional, they’d all be sand-fucked. Most were completely understanding of this reality and got to work clearing the sand off the deck, hoping overboard and digging the anchors away as much as was needed. Those who weren’t William made sure keep in line and get to work anyways, sooner or later.
Even with William’s invisible prodding, it still took them all an entire day to make ready the sandsailors. In the time that the haboob raged their ships had been almost entirely subsumed with sand. The engines, it was discovered, were still functional, but they did require minor maintenance to clear them of sand despite having been covered. This was something that everyone agreed was best to be slow and meticulous about since any errant metallic particles could ruin the entire machina. The process of cleaning them was slow. Slow enough that the dunes around the ships’ anchors and hulls and the piles that had accumulated on deck were cleared enough before they were finished.
Once all was in order the three sandsailors carved their way through the altered landscape and continued their trek northward. Both and Andros and the Pequod had no issues in getting their propellers running and releasing themselves from what remained of the sand beneath them. There was an instant of tension aboard all three vessels as the Tesstess’ engine at first coughed before firing up and allowing it to catch up with its brother ships.
Marisia stood next to William at the bow of the Andros, a broad smile on her face as the wind rushed through her ginger hair which rose and fell like water rapids. “The breeze feels amazing after being down there for so long, do not you think?” she asked, turning to face at William.
“Yeah, it’s a nice change of pace,” he replied quietly, looking over his shoulder at her father who was not far away from the pair of them and looking directly at William. Twilight turned back to Marisia, noticing something out of the ordinary for her for the first time. “Your eyes,” he said flatly.
“Hm? What about them?” Marisia asked, raiding a hand up to the bottom of her eye socket.
“Nothing, it’s just… I don’t know. I just noticed you weren’t wearing a blindfold like you normally do. Have you been without it this whole time?” he asked. Her eyes were normal looking, save for her enlarged pupils that dwarfed the brown of her eyes.
“Oh. Yes, I came aboard without it…” Marisia admitted, wondering if the cloth she wore around her eyes was so inconsequential that William hadn’t noticed her eyes for days.
“Sorry,” William mumbled, turning back to face the sands. He could hear the wound in her voice. “Things have been so… stressful, since we left, I just didn’t notice…” It was the nicest way to tell her that his mind was preoccupied with far more important things than her eyes.
“Do you know why I’m blind?” Marisia asked William after a moment of silence passed between the pair, sensing a moment to grow closer to her object of affection.
“I… No. I know you were born blind, but the specifics…” William trailed off, allowing her to fill in the blanks.
“The ocular nerves in my eyes are damaged, and my cones are deformed. I am told this is why I cannot perceive light,” she explained, facing the wind as he did. “My parents took me to the mainland shortly after I was born to discover this. They could have had my eyes operated on, but decided not to. They did not want to make the choice for me. The doctors assured them that, when I was older, if I wanted, that surgery to repair the damage and replace what could not be repaired was possible, so they were comfortable to take me back home and let me choose. When I became old enough to understand this, they asked if I wished to have the procedure done.”
“You chose not to,” he noted.
She smiled, nodding. “Yes. By the time I was old enough to understand, I had long since become accustomed to perceiving the world around me through my other senses. My parents helped me, taught me and learned in equal measure, and so I saw no reason to change anything. I was content, and I understood that, if ever I wanted to see the world with my eyes instead of my ears and hands, I could have the surgery at any time. But I was happy with things as they were….”
Marisia trailed off into silence, her throat growing a lump and her eyes dampening against the cold night winds. When next she spoke her voice was choked. “Now so much has changed… Vamo,” she gasped. “My brother is gone. When my father speaks, I do not recognize his voice! Even when suta was taken from us, he did not sound so… so…”
As Marisia began to cry William pulled her into an embrace to comfort her. She accepted it and fought her tears back swiftly, pulling away from him after but a moment and wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I know…” he said in that soft tone she loved to listen to.
Joscur watched on with contained defensive fury.
***
The further north the sandsailors and their crew went from Mirage, the more those on board realized how much different the desert was from what they had always known. None of them had been this far north before, more than eleven days of near nonstop travel, and why would they have been? There was nothing out in the Wastes except for sand and geists, roving reasuler packs, and the threat of dehydration, or so they had believed. Trade routes to the coast were only ever to the east and south of the oasis city where goods or people would be transported to the mainland or further north by seafaring boats. There had never been a reason to risk coming this far for a long, long time.
It was a surprise, then, to everyone when the sands began to give way to gigantic rocks that stuck up out of the sand like titanic teeth! Not so large or so crowded as to be impassable, not so plentiful as to outnumber the dunes, but, gradually, more and more showed their earthen faces as the expedition made their way northward. Not since spying the mysterious pillars off in the distance had such landmarks made themselves apparent had something of this magnitude caught the expedition’s eyes. Some of the boulders were truly enormous, dwarfing the ships several times over. The excitement at their approach was now much less than it had been on that first day, back before anyone had died or endured such claustrophobic weather.
Things grew in pitch when, shortly after passing by one such boulder, the Tesstess suddenly broke formation, turning around port side and heading back towards the rock! Teutna and Luff were both quick to turn the Andros and Pequod around to follow the Tesstess, wondering what had happened. Pulling up to either end of Vivicetti’s vessel, everyone on each sandsailor was angling to see what had brought the crew of the Tesstess to the edge of their sandsailor’s railing.
“Rally-ho, Cap’n! Why’ve ye stopped!?” Captain Teutna called out at the top of her lungs, hand held up to her mouth, as she marched away from the helm and over to the starboard side of the Andros.
“We are on a schedule, Captain! Why have you turned around!?” Captain Luff called as well, mirroring Teutna as he grabbed onto the port side railing of his sandsailor and called out to Vivicetti.
“Can’t you see it?” Vivicetti called back to them, tearing her gaze away from the stone to look to both of her fellow captains, who could barely make the bloodling out in the dark. Vivicetti let out an exasperated sigh, closed her eyes, shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t be able to see it, would you? Ningen eyesight is so terrible compared to bloodlings! More’s the pity. Animunculi! Bring the ornithopter over, shine its light right there!” she ordered, pointing to a specific spot high above her head. The animunculi aboard the Tesstess did as it was told, silently summoning the ornithopter from the dark while the other bloodlings aboard all excitedly chattered loudly.
The ornithopter came and buzzed above the Tesstess, a light shining from its underside and illuminating the massive boulder, which lit up brightly with streaks of glistening, brilliant blues!
“It’s cobalt! Sure as anything!” Vivicetti declared proudly over the talk of her bloodling crew. “This rock is covered in ore. Nearby ones, too! Cobalt, silver, tungsten – that’s just what I can identify at a glance! There’s got to be so much mineral and metallic ore here just ripe for the picking, we’d all be fools not to take at least some with us!”
“Ye cannae be serious…” Teutna lamented.
“We do not have time for this,” Luff called back gruffly, turning away and walking back toward the helm. “We depart in two minutes to get back on course!”
“Oh, come on you two!” Vivicetti pleaded. “We just spent three days trapped in our ships to weather a storm! You’re telling me we don’t have time to spare a couple of hours to mine some of this precious material out of these rocks? When’s the next time any of us are going to be up here again, huh? Think of the gems we’d get for even a fraction of this haul!”
“Dinnae forget why we be up here to begin with, Cap’n,” Teutna tried to remind Vivicetti over the excited clamor of the bloodling’s crew, who were chattering about the logistics of tool usage, load capacity given the rest of the cargo, and estimating gem profits from mining these boulders.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know, we’re on a mission to burn Lucifer and his big, bad, oleum before they come back to Mirage and kill us all! I get it, Captain Teutna, believe me, I do! But has it really not occurred to you – to either of you, my fellow captains, that this entire expedition is operating at a loss? We’re losing ningen, time, water, food, and fuel for paving those lovely colored streets of ours on the hope that we’re dealing a decisive preemptive blow to Lucifer and his horde of monsters. We deserve to have something to show for our efforts, don’t we? And these rocks are a veritable – possibly literal – gold mine!” Vivicetti argued passionately.
“The rocks will be here when we head back,” Captain Luff refuted in between giving orders to get the Pequod moving again.
“Yeah? And who says all of us will be? Don’t forget that this is a dangerous mission we’re on. Lives have already been lost! If we don’t capitalize on this now, we might not get another chance!”
“And how will ye be enjoyin’ yer spoils iffen ye perish, kin it? What be the point of spendin’ a couple o’ hours chiselin’ out yonder treasure iffen yer no here after to spend the gems?”
“For the survivors, obviously,” Vivicetti said coldly, dismissively. “Anyone that does make it back from this will be set up with a nice pile of gems to rebuild their lives and forget this whole horrible experience in wealth and luxury! Just think about if we bring this ore back to Mirage and manage to set up a safe route to get back here: it’d be a revolution for Mirage’s prosperity! Imagine how much quicker and easier it would be for Mirage to rebuild if we could get the mainland to suckle the sweet, sweet rivers of ore that only we could provide! We know the Wastes better than anyone in the world, so come on, think of the big picture and get a share while we can!”
“This is just like you bloodlings, always thinking of what angle you can play to get the most out of a situation even at the cost of those around you…” Luff said from where he stood on the upper deck of the Pequod, looking down at Vivicetti with arms folded over his chest.
Vivicetti whirled around and glared fire at Luff, marching across the deck of the Tesstess and away from the object of her prospects to confront her fellow captain directly, shouting as she strode, “Hey! I don’t take that kind of guff from anyone, especially not some ningen male green thumb who takes his military term way too seriously considering he never DID anything during his service except maybe break up a tavern brawl or two, if you were stationed in a major city on the mainland!”
Captain Luff had strode back over to the port side of the Pequod to meet Vivicetti’s gaze as she ascended up to her upper deck, fists gripping tight onto the railing. Being called ‘green thumb’ was too much for him to ignore. “Just what exactly are you trying to imply, Captain?” Luff demanded.
“I’m not implying shit!” Vivicetti said with a shrug and a smug grin, knowing that she’d struck just the right nerve she wanted to. “I’m telling you that your days playing soldier and wagging your stick around at passers by to be intimidating and keep people in line are behind you! You don’t have to be such a tower anymore! You’re allowed to bend the rules a bit and make some actual profit from your ventures, even if you are a specist fuck!”
“People have died, you arrogant, ludicrous blood sipper! The only reason more of us have not is because…” Captain Luff trailed off, his gaze shifting over to the Andros in search of William. He was among the many in being unable to explain what had happened between William, the reavers and the reauslers the other day before the storm, but was acutely aware that his influence had somehow saved many, if not all of them from violent deaths hundreds of miles away from home.
While Captains Luff and Vivicetti continued to spiral into arguing and bickering among themselves in rapidly escalating aggression, Teutna turned to look at William, who was looking at the boulder that the three sandsailors had stopped beside. He’d been staring at them the entire time, not because of the valuable ores that ran through them, not because of anything in particular he saw, but because of what he didn’t see. The expression on his face was hauntology. To Teutna, and anyone else who may have looked at Twilight’s face in the moments since they’d pulled up next to the Tesstess, they may have thought he’d adopted the look of some hollow madman whose mind was gone from him. The truth was unfathomable to all present, save for William, who knew now suddenly exactly where they were:
These boulders were all that remained of the Prosphora Peaks.
“William? Oi, William?” Teutna called out, trying to break his trance. When he didn’t respond or break his line of sight with the boulders, she called out to him louder, “RALLY-HO!”
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
This broke the eidolon out of his hyperfixation and brought his harrowed gaze down to the captain of the Andros who knew that, at this point, beyond a shadow of a doubt, despite hers, Vivicetti’s and Luff’s designations as the captains and leaders of this expedition, William was the one to defer to for leadership.
“What say ye to this situation boilin’ over yonder?” she asked, jutting a thumb in the direction of the screaming bloodling and ningen captains.
William remained silent for a moment, staring blankly at Teutna. Marisia touched his shoulder and the gesture anchored him in the moment. “William?” she inquired as he looked her way. His expression changed from haunted disbelief to firm conviction, his hand reaching up to touch hers briefly.
“I’m fine,” he assured her, stepping away from Marisia and making his way towards the upper deck by Teutna. “I’ll go sort them out, mum,” he said firmly to the captain of the Andros before leaping over to the Tesstess. His approach, as it often was, was uncontested by anyone on board as he made his way up behind the irritated bloodling.
“This isn’t the time for you two to be fighting. We have far more important -” he began, only to be interrupted by Vivicetti who swung around to face him, mock laughing through the scowl.
“Oh-ho-ho, no. Not you, too! I am sick and TIRED of you coming onto my ship and giving me orders, you self-aggrandizing-”
“If you’d let me finish, mum,” William interrupted in turn, aggressively speaking over her. He threw his hand up between them and held up his thumb and index fingers. “It shouldn’t have to be explained to you how important what we’re doing here is again, so I’m going to make this simple for you. Here’s your choice; you can stay here and mine your fortune away while the Andros and the Pequod and their crews continue north to deal with the oleum, or you can fall in line and come with us like you’re supposed to. You stay, you get your fortune, stake your claim, but you’re on your own getting back to Mirage. I won’t be around to help when the reavers and their reasulers come back for a second go with just a single sandsailor to contend with. I think they’ll like those odds. You leaving will also likely condemn the rest of us to death since you’ll be taking over a third of the numbers, supplies, and arms with you, and if we don’t stop the oleum they’re likely to come back to Mirage and finish it off before moving on to the mainland, and that will be on you, too. You come with us we all have much better odds at surviving what’s further north and coming back from it. We can even stop on the way back to get this ore like you want, as a reward to your contribution. Choose.”
The trick played, the choice given, Vivicetti made it the instant William presented it to her according to his design. She grit her fangs in utter irritation. “I’m only asking for a couple of hours,” she tried to reason.
“We don’t have that kind of time. We don’t have time to be standing here talking. Choose.”
Vivicetti scoffed, closed her amber eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose. “Un-fucking-believable. Get the fuck off my ship before I eat you,” she commanded. William complied immediately as Vivicetti took the helm of the Tesstess. “I’m taking point! If you short-sighted ningen want to rush this mission so bad, FINE! Try to keep up!” she called out, barking orders to get the engines running hot again and beginning to move the Tesstess right as William jumped back onto the Andros. It took a bit of maneuvering on all three of the sandsailors parts to escape this awkward parallel parking situation they found themselves in, but in short order, as promised, the Tesstess was racing head of the Andros and Pequod, weaving a serpentine trail through the invaluable boulders while the ornithopter, its light now off, flew ahead even further and faster.
William was glad to leave what remained of the once mighty peaks that had now been eroded to a mere series of boulders behind him. They brought back uncomfortable memories.
***
It took three hours of the night before the trio of sandsailors and their occupants ceased seeing any of the boulders around them in any direction and a return to the monotonous blues and indigos of the sparkling desert sand. William was quiet all throughout the transition – quieter than usual – and Marisia gave up trying to prod him into speaking about what was on his mind a little less than an hour in. He refused to go into detail about what was bothering him, but just beneath the surface, he was simply shocked that that was all that remained of what once was. Silently he brooded about what Mr. Wink had done to him and allowed himself to be distracted by his rage until the Wastes were all consuming once more.
True to her word, Vivicetti had pulled the Tesstess ahead of the Andros and the Pequod. Her sailing wasn’t just fast but aggressive and had been since William left her ship. She had whipped and slid around boulders in a serpentine fashion seemingly for no reason other than to put more distance between her and the other ships. Teutna and Luff both seemed content to let her fly far ahead so long as the animunculi and ornithopters were able to maintain contact with one another.
That is, at first. It wasn’t long after they had departed from the prospective rock that geists began to appear around them! Much as they always did the flickering specters simply appeared out of thin air, their visages luminous against the dark of night without shedding any actual light. Their appearance was met with gasps and cries of fright, both Teutna and Luff picking up the pace to try and catch up with the Tesstess and avoid being close to the ominous geists, who, in turn, sped up as well all the more to avoid the very same thing. Seeing the geists was too much for William in the moment and he chose to sink down below the railing of the Andros with Marisia sat beside him offering what comfort she could, but he was inconsolable, glaring at the deck of the ship. There was nothing she could do to coax him out of that position until the geists and boulders were well and truly behind them. He wouldn’t tell anyone what he knew because he saw no point in it. He desperately missed Cornello.
His mood passed with time and distance. “Are the geists gone?” he asked Daniellex who had come over to check on he and Marisia periodically since noticing them sat down.
“Yes, they have vanished beyond the horizon,” the burly ningen rumbled, patting his stomach.
William stood up and looked forward towards the backside of the Tesstess, the chill night air whipping his black hair about. He glanced up at the triplets and determined by their position that they had somewhere between four and five hours of night left to travel. ‘If the weather holds out and nothing else happens, we should make it to the trees within six days…’ William thought to himself.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than were his eyes drawn to the Tesstess suddenly and dramatically disappearing front in front of them all as it dropped downward into the ground! The sound of the engine’s propellers whirring in protest at unexpectedly being turned to the sky drowned out any cries of the crew on board!
“SHIP DOWN!” Teutna hollered. In an instant all was in action on both the Andros and Pequod as they raced forth to determine what had happened, each of the crews springing into chaotic action. No one was certain what needed to be done exactly, but everyone knew that action was required.
“What has happened?” Marisia asked fearfully behind William.
“Keep her safe!” William ordered Daniellex, who nodded and took his goddaughter by the hand. Just as soon as he had, Joscur came up to the three of them and he took his daughter’s hand from his friend, who nodded in understanding. The two of them made their way below deck while William and Daniellex rushed to the port side of the Andros just as it was making to turn in the opposite direction of the Pequod as they caught up to where the Tesstess had vanished.
What they saw was a massive pit in the sand, large enough to easily swallow up a sandsailor a couple of times over, steep enough that getting the Tesstess out of it would be impossible. All was chaos on board the fallen ship, the engine roaring with unnatural effort because of its orientation, many of the crew having fallen overboard and if not were scrambling to hold onto any purchase that would keep them on deck. More than one person hung in free-fall, clinging onto the sails in various places. Vivicetti herself was hanging off of the wheel that was driven into her stomach, staring down the vertical nose of her ship.
At the bottom of the pit was the thing that dug it. Sticking up out of the conical hole in the Wastes was a gargantuan insectile head, a bright candy red against the midnight blue of its lair. Mighty spiked jaws had pierced the hull of the Tesstess and were scissoring their way through the wooden underbelly of the ship, splintering it bit by bit while blocky mandibles with saw-like teeth gnashed and clacked at any and all falling debris that came their way. Its round head was flanked by clusters of yellow eyes and covered in emerald green hairs. Hooked forelimbs protruded up from the sand below, flailing about wildly, kicking up sand, drawing in all that had already fallen over the side of the Tesstess down into loose, sucking quicksand.
“Pupa bull!” someone yelled out to alert the others, who were still clamoring over themselves about what to do.
“That is a pupa!?” Daniellex asked in shock, having never seen one of the Wastes’ premier predators before.
“Fuck me arse! First geists, now a pupa bull!? Canne be an easy night, kin it!?” Teutna complained briefly before once more raising her voice. “MOVE, SAILORS! Arm yeselves! ROPES for the survivors! MOVE! MOVE!”
Over on the Pequod things were much the same with Captain Luff ordering his crew to action as well. Everyone was reacting on reflex and quick thinking, scrambling to try and save those they could without having a real plan. It was a dire emergency and, despite having spend the better part of the last three hours sulking and lamenting his fate, William was the only one who saw past the shock and awe of the predicament and knew the full scale of this disaster. It was just as he had told Vivicetti three hours prior – all of their lives were on the line because of the supplies and equipment aboard the Tesstess. If it went down and they could salvage none of it, the odds of anyone left making it back to Mirage were exponentially slimmer.
Panic and fear ruled inside of the pupa bull’s pit. Well meaning but improvised action had taken charge of the crews of the Andros and Pequod. The fate of Vivicetti and her crew would decide the fate of them all, and William could see only one possible way out of this in a timely manner while the gigantic insect continued to tear through the ships exterior and drag it further down into the sand.
He took a breath, focused, and got to work.
“TEUTNA! Angle the Andros’ nose towards the pit!” William ordered at the top of his lungs, looking up away from the pit. Having heard her songbird over the din of the chaos, she looked his way, confused for a moment, before he pointed and said but a single word: “Cannons!”
It clicked for her and she nodded, shouting out orders to make ready the harpoons as she threw the Andros into reverse and started to back it up, all while yelling at others exactly what William wanted her to use those powerful pipes for. Her every word was a carefully chosen command that, due to the eidolon’s influence, radiated like a wave of competency to everyone who could hear her and choose to follow her directions. Within an instant the near frothing mob of desperate ningen were acting with swift determination to save those they could aboard the Tesstess!
As the Andros began to move like a synchronized, well-oiled machine, William put his fingers into his mouth and let out his loudest, shrillest, longest whistle to get the attention of Captain Luff, who managed to hear the piercing note over the commotion aboard his ship and the failing engines of the Tesstess. Looking over to the Andros and seeing how it was moving, as well as spying William aggressively pointing towards the cannons sticking out the front of the Andros, the old soldier gave a curt nod and got to work. His own ship and orders were barely a step behind that of Teutnas and would soon catch up.
“What are you doing?” Daniellex asked, meaning to ask how he can help.
“Saving our lives,” William replied bluntly and kept focusing on the task at hand.
It took only seconds for both the Andros and Pequod to angle themselves so that their bows were pointed towards the pit instead of parallel to it. Those seconds were precious, though. In that time, the pupa’s thrashing about had managed to entirely wretch a massive hole open in the front of the Tesstess, some of the contents within spilling out into the sand, to say nothing of those who lost their grip and either fell into the treacherous sand, or, in the case of one unfortunate bloodling, directly into the hungering jaws of the beast who crushed them instantly and chewed on their body. Pale blood dribbled onto the pupa’s labrum.
William worked faster. Dozens of choices were being made all around him and he was synchronizing each and every one of them that he could. Most of those who were down in the pit were too panicked for him to influence their choices. He needed to get them to focus on their own survival.
Whistling again, twice now, as he hung over the railing on the port side of the Andros as ningen behind him all rushed to do as he chose, Choice cried out, “VIVICETTI!” She looked up at him and, despite all that was happening, there was an expression of annoyance on her face that it was William addressing her. He waved his arm towards the cannon, shouting so loud his voice scraped the back of his throat, “CUT THE ENGINES! CLIMB! CLIMB!”
She got the message, and, reluctant as she might have been, her misandry did not run so deep as to jeopardize her own life. Although she didn’t fully understand the plan just yet, she chose to obey and order that the engines be cut. Choice took over from there. His order coming from her mouth gave those the chance to listen and to help get things into place. Over the coming seconds, the eidolon of Twilight and Choice was able to get every ningen and bloodling who remained clinging onboard under his sway. From there it was simply an old habit of his to have them make the most optimal choices for each and every one of their individual situations. Better footholds were selected, different grips adopted. People strategically scrambled, dropped, helped one another up or down in order to get who needed to be in place up to the engines or down by the cannons while Vivicetti helped to cut the engines as much as she could from her position at the helm with the help of others. Similarly a synchronized dance of hyper efficiency was taking place on board the other two ships as well as cannons were angled and aimed precisely for the pupa’s head at point blank range and on either side of the pit.
The instant that all three were in position, and just a moment before the pupa bull would have destroyed the Tesstess’s cannons, William gave the silent, collective symbol. “FIRE!” all three captains ordered in unison and within that same breath six cannons fired their harpoons, impaling and obliterating the crimson head of the massive insect with their shared impacts, killing it instantly. Its death brought with it a stillness on the Tesstess as its jaws ceased ripping the front of the sandsailor to shreds. The slippery sand soon began to settle as its limbs stilled.
With the pupa dead, those who remained and safely could on the Tesstess abandoned ship by climbing up the chains that lead to either the Andros of the Pequod. Some were injured from the collision and collapse. Others, including the animunculi who had been on board, were either completely or half buried in sand. For the moment they were simply beyond saving. William focused on directing the choices of those he could to to safety. Helping the injured were a trio of bloodlings of the Beast variety who chose to take advantage of their incredible strengths, their muscles bulging as they swelled in size, features becoming distorted and brutish as they assumed their namesake. No one complained about their frightening visages as they either carried the wounded to the chains and passed them along to others or carried them up themselves. William made sure of it.
In total, between the two surviving ships, only twenty three of the crew of the Tesstess, only eight of which were bloodlings, managed to make it onto either the Pequod or Andros. Vivicetti was one of the last to climb aboard the Andros after all others had made the climb. She glowered up at William who had been helping others onboard as he extended his arm out to her, but she took it and groaned painfully as she was pulled over the railing and came to rest there, sitting down and clutching her stomach.
“The others. Who fell,” she hissed through gritted fangs.
“We’re working on ways to get who we can out,” William assured her coldly.
“I didn’t see it. Stupid, bloody hole in the ground…” the bloodling captain chastised, lifting up her shirt to look at her stomach which had already begun to form a nasty bruise across the entire width of her body.
William didn’t turn to Vivicetti to explain herself, but instead the animunculi aboard the Andros who stood still at the center of the deck. “How did this happen? Wasn’t an ornithopter leading the way?”
“That is correct,” the enormous metal person replied in a calm, tinny tone.
“And did it not see the gaping hole in the desert floor?”
“The ornithopters are following a predetermined path set by the original scouting unit which Lucifer destroyed. Barring any deliberate deviations instructed by one of the captains, it is merely meant to take the most similar route as that which came before it,” the animunculi explained.
“Aren’t you able to communicate with it directly? Could it not see the life threatening pit in the dark? Could you not?” William demanded to know.
“I apologize for this egregious error. You are correct in that we animunculi bare some responsibility for these events. The pits were not here when the original scouting thopter came this way. It is possible that in the interim of its departure and our arrival they migrated here, or perhaps the haboob uncovered them buried deep blow. Such mistakes will not happen again, I assure you.”
William didn’t like it, but there really was little point in shifting the blame onto the metal giants. Though it hadn’t said it, and though William did not know, perhaps the thopters vision was not as good in the dark in wide open spaces such as the Wastes where their lights would be of little use over a long distance and that was why they were relying on a programmed route to guide them. Perhaps Vivicetti herself should have been more careful and watching where she was sailing rather than brazenly charging ahead. Blame would not help those who yet lived down in the pit, nor salvage their supplies.
“Are you able to get in contact with the animunculi that was on board the Tesstess? Are they still…?” William asked, turning away from the suit of living armor and looking back down towards the ruined sandsailor. The faint cries of those half buried sang out pitifully into the night.
“Alive?” it suggested, blue light briefly flashing through its cross shaped visor. “Yes. I am able to communicate with them still, but they are immobile. Retrieval would take time, and should be of lesser import than saving those who can be saved from the pupa bull’s pit.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” William sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and easing his grip on the choices around him. “Are there any other pits like this in the area?”
“Several, I am afraid,” the animunculi confirmed. “I rerouted the ornithopter stationed to this ship to begin searching for similar hazards once the threat became apparent.”
“Find a way for the remaining ships to get through safely, whether that’s through or around doesn’t matter,” the eidolon ordered as he rubbed on the bridge of his nose, a headache forming directly behind his eyes. “Let me know once something has been found. Let the other animunculi on the Pequod know to do the same.”
“I have already communicated as such. We will keep both you and the captains informed when safe passage has been located.”
“Thank you,” William replied wearily.
The following hours, well into the morning, were a combination of search and rescue and salvaging what could be salvaged from the Tesstess. Only five additional survivors were able to be retrieved from the sand before they were pulled under, making the total death count eight. Including those five a baker’s dozen were in need of various forms of medical treatment that ranged in severity and were being tended to to the best of their abilities by others. Marisia was one of them, who, shortly after William had finished speaking with the animunculi, emerged from below deck with her father, who himself got to work with rescue efforts, and got to work however she could thus keeping her word. Vivicetti refused any sort of treatment and demanded only that she be left alone.
Of the supplies that could be retrieved, the water was the least of it. Many of the barrels had burst on impact or had been impaled by the mandibles of the pupa bull after being pushed to the bow of the Tesstess from the severe downward angle. Much of the food had survived though equal parts of it needed to be dug up from the sand after having fallen out in much the same manner as the water. One of the wagons had been crushed by the other and made unusable, as were the portable stations for charging the trio of ornithopters that had been guiding the Tesstess, as was one of said ornithopters. The other wagon had survived though its cover was damaged. Perhaps most fortunate of all was the fact that none of the weapons or fuel for burning the oleum had been damaged in the incident. The survivors now all had even more of a surplus of weaponry than they had gained before being trapped by the haboob with the reavers. No one was happy to hear this.
Who could be saved and what could be saved was retrieved through painstaking effort and teamwork of all who could stand on their feet. Ropes and makeshift pulleys, Beast bloodlings taking advantage of their strength, animunculi working without pause to sift through the sand after determining a safe way for them to slide down into and climb back out of the hole – everything that could be used to improve their chances was. Yet it was grim work. It was hard for the survivors on either ship to not feel like they were picking at the bones of those who hadn’t been lucky enough to make it, especially those that had previously crewed the Tesstess. No one spoke it aloud, but many grew concerned about space on the already crowded ships now that each one had to take on an excess of passengers that numbered more than ten each, to say nothing about the three additional animunculi who had to be divided between two sandsailors. The announcement that water would have to be even more strictly rationed did not help to ease tensions either.
When all had been done that could be done and what had to be left behind was left behind the call was agreed upon by Captains Luff and Teutna to simply keep the ships docked above the resting place of the Tesstess and take the rest of the day to rest in preparation for traveling the next night safely through the field of pits that, in the light of day, were much easier to spot among the dunes which had, for days now, progressively grown smaller and smaller.
As William was walking to go find a corner below deck to curl up in and rest he stopped briefly in front of Vivicetti, a captain no more, who spoke out as he passed by. “I should have been allowed a couple of hours to mine. None of this would have happened…”
Choice looked down at the bloodling whose skin was burnt and beginning to blister in the hot desert sun, whose eyes were bloodshot and not looking at him. Her blame was directionless, a futile way to cope with the trauma that had happened. She hadn’t moved from where she’d sat since he pulled her over the side of the Andros. He walked away without saying a word.
