My Dearest (2 page)

Her practical, sensible, political arguments about all their differences in class and status and ambitions - their own and other peoples - did nothing to sway him from this opinion.

She did love him so for it. And for many other reasons.

"Your buttons are done," he said, and kissed the back of her neck. Which sent pleasant warmth racing down her spine.

She'd done her hair up in a high twist held in place with mother-of-pearl combs. Her only other adornment was a necklace of a single large pearl that had been a gift, in a roundabout way, from the man whose hands were now resting on her shoulders.

"We best go," he said. He stepped back to pick up and drape a fine gray shawl over her shoulders. He then offered her his arm.

They stepped onto the main deck as the last glow of the setting sun sank beyond the horizon.

She breathed in the fresh sea air, delighted at the peace surrounding them. It was not always so, and moments of calm were to be appreciated, and marked. "I am very happy tonight," she said.

"I am almost perfectly content myself," he answered. He patted her arm with his free hand.

A stir of laughter and excitement issued from the command quarterdeck. Megere and Lord North observed Ensign Flint surrounded by all the off-duty midshipman and ship's children. She and her escort went up the stern stairs to find out what this entertainment might be. After Lord North returned everyone's brisk salute he told the children to be at ease and asked what they were about. The midshipmen kept their attention on the admiral, but the other youngsters went back to pointing and talking about the lights which had appeared in the evening sky. They seemed to swim rather than flare and arc, Megere observed, somewhat different than the meteor showers she was used to.

"The Passing has started, sir," Flint answered North. "I was just showing the children, and telling the old tale we have about it on my home island." He held his spyglass out to Megere. "Would you like to take a look, Dr. Cliff?"

Megere peered at the lights moving across the faces of the moons. "The Passing between Green Moon and the world is real? I thought it was only a folk tale."

"Many people think that," North said. "Since the Passing only happens every other generation or so, it is almost forgotten and relegated to children's stories, until the sky fills with the lights again."

"It is not a cyclical meteor shower," Flint added. "No evidence has ever been found of one of the Passing Ones falling on land or sea, or burning up in the high air."

Megere lifted the spyglass to her eye and concentrated on the distant lights. All she could make out were fuzzy blobs of color, of course, for they were very very far away. She could not make out if the light was reflected or came from the Passing phenomena. She handed the glass back to the ensign.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Flint. We must be on our way. Enjoy this lovely show," she said to the children. "I hope we are not late for Captain Ram's dinner," she said as she and North walked away.

In answer he arched an eyebrow sardonically at her. For how could the Fleet Admiral be late on his own flagship? Her sense of polite behavior was somewhat stricter than his.

"I will be a civilizing influence on you yet," she said.

"Doubtful."

At least they turned out not to be the last guests to arrive at the Captain's table. That turned out to be Cleric Flox, who claimed he'd been lost in prayer though everyone knew he'd been lost in bed with bosun's mate Fisher, who had a very active love life for a one-legged woman nearing sixty. There was a great deal that could be learned from such an experienced woman, and Megere planned to take her aside some time and ask her some questions.

They stood and bowed their heads for the blessing. Which was a long prayer, as Cleric Flox was a firm believer in the multiplicity of the gods. Each person at the table was asked to call upon the protection of their patron god. Only at the end did he add a fillip to modern theology when he said, "The deity of all gods together bring harmony upon us."

When all were seated around the table, Lord North rose once more to propose a birthday toast to Captain Ram. After many congratulations and blessings bestowed on Captain Ram, the first course was brought in and the party was underway. The food was good for ship's fare, the wine flowed freely, the conversation was pleasant. It was a lovely evening.

Then the octopus bell rang.

Star brought Megere back to the present when the dog abruptly jumped off her lap. Star crossed to the bunk and made herself comfortable at Admiral Lord North's feet. Megere yawned, and considering getting into bed herself, but recalled that she had yet to finish the letter to her mother. She took up her pen again.

Nothing is quite so shocking to those new to sailing the deep seas as an encounter with the octopi. We had a meeting with the rulers of the underseas a few days ago. The captain of the first ship I served on eagerly sought out contact with the octopi, but it turns out that Captain Ram finds the necessity of stopping whatever his vessel is doing to send crew into the water to have their minds read by "creatures" most annoying. Well, that is too bad, as Lord North insists on strict adherence to the agreement we have with the octopi. Mind you, I hoped that I would not be required to take to the sea. Not that I would be too frightened, having been examined by an octopus once while aboard the
Moonrunner
.

Megere paused to smile at this prevarication.

"State secrets?" she said, as she recalled what was real compared to what was told.

"Why me?" Megere demanded. "I would rather you send someone else into the water."

Admiral North turned an outraged look on her that didn't soften for several moments - when she didn't cower under it. It took him a while, but she saw him finally remember that she was a civilian contractor and he had to ask rather than simply order her to do anything not covered under her contractual obligations.

It was a good thing for her that he had brought her back to their quarters before telling her, "I want you to do it."

Had he said this in front of all the officers and crew who crowded onto the deck to peer down at the dark water where the octopi waited it would have been hard to defy him. Impossible, actually. One did not undercut the fleet's most senior officer's authority in front of his people. As things had turned out, Megere was able to say no, or at least she didn't have to jump into the water without trying to convince him otherwise first.

"You've talked to them before," he said. "You're not likely to have a fit of screaming hysterics, before or after."

"I have not
talked
to them. She and I did not have a conversation. Very few people can communicate with them, you know. They take our thoughts, but--"

"You said
she.
How do you know it was a female if you didn't talk to it?"

Megere considered for a moment before answering. "I
felt
it was a female. I dreamed about octopi babies floating around me afterward - but those dreams were only a reaction to having my mind read."

"Yes. But it's a tricky business to interpret the meaning of something so different than we are. Our two species have managed to work out some mutual concepts over the generations, but the exchange is so very -- " He waved his hands as he searched for the right word.

"Fluid?" Megere suggested.

He pointed a finger at her. "Exactly. You have great empathy, my dearest, and an open mind. I need your insight."

She was not impressed by his flattery. "You suspect that this time the octopi want something other than the usual reading our minds for the sake of learning about us. You want to know why and what they want before you consult your staff."

He gave her one of his wide, infectious grins. "Clever gel!"

It had taken her a while to realize that
gel
was the North Isles idiom for
girl.

She thought about it, and paced around the cabin as she did, until he reached out an arm and snagged her to him.

"We don't have much time," he said. "You'll do it?"

Megere rested her forehead against his shoulder, sighed. "I will," she agreed. "But not in my good black dress."

She was not lowered down in the small boat by herself. She had certainly expected the pair of seaman and the marine to come along to protect and aid her. That was standard procedure for an octopus encounter. She had not expected Admiral Lord North to take the seat beside her in the boat. She had never been happier for his company, though all she could do was give him a swift smile and nod to show her pleased gratitude. She would have liked him to hold her hand, or place a protective arm around her shoulders, but such familiarity was out of the question in a public setting. Decorum must reign, as everyone on board was looking down on them and they were well lit by the moons and the flashing Passing lights overhead. He'd announced that he was officially along as the Ang Empire's ambassador to the undersea inhabitants. He'd drawn smiles, and a few laughs when he added that if he could do nothing else, he could at least properly salute whatever creature rose from the depths.

Since he was still wearing the dress uniform he'd put on for the captain's party, Lord North certainly looked ambassadorial. Megere was the one dressed for business. She was wearing a seaman's tunic and trousers. Her feet were bare and her hair in a long braid down her back. There were towels and blankets in the bottom of the boat, waiting to dry and warm her on her return. She also wore the harness and rope that would secure her to the human world while she ventured away from it.

At least she knew how to proceed once the boat was in the water. She was grateful the
Ironbound
was not sailing in cold, northern seas. The warm evening sea would be a welcoming embrace. Lord North gave her hand a quick squeeze. She gave him what she hoped passed for a brave smile. She stood up and jumped into the sea. The bell on the ship rang, calling the octopi to come talk to a human.

Megere thought that perhaps she would be lucky and the octopus would merely want the usual exploration of a human's thoughts.

"I don't know how to talk to you, well, listen to you," she said as several very large tentacles rose out of the water and wrapped themselves gently around her floating body. Megere tensed, but only momentarily. "I've done this before. I've done this before." She took deep breaths, and looked up at the brilliant night sky where the strange new lights sizzled by overhead.

She rocked on the water, held by soft, strong alien arms. "Hello," she said. After waiting for an answer for a while she recalled that octopi did not speak, they thought. Somehow, they read thoughts, and to a lucky few they shared thoughts. She didn't think she was one of this few, but she had told Admiral Lord North that she would try - although the promise had really been to her beloved Adrew Osprey. She would never have let herself get into this sort of situation for the sake of the Admiralty, and Adrew well knew it.

Men,
she thought at the sea creature.
They're nothing but trouble, are they?

Not that the octopus would understand anything she would say. No more than she would understand their language, if they had one. Which they must have. But not like human language. Megere thought hard about what she ought to do.

Maybe thinking hard was what she ought to do?

She closed her eyes and looked inward rather than at the sky. After a while it was concepts and images and emotions that filled her mind - that she tried to push toward the octopus.

It was then that things started happening.

"This is the best whisky in the world. Take a good swig of it, gel."

A flask was held to her lips, and Megere did as she was told. She didn't know if it was the potent spirit or the boat being hauled up the side of the ship that worsened her dizziness. The world already whirled when she was brought out of the water.

Fortunately, one of the seaman working on toweling her off had the presence of mind to aim her head over the side of the boat in time.

"Pity about the whisky," North said.

Megere grabbed onto him, buried her face against the fine wool of his coat, wetting it with seawater and tears, and held on tight until such time as he pried her fingers from the cloth and forced her head up with his fingers under her chin.