The Mariner

“Ha! Pun for pun! Yes indeed.” The words were spat with little mirth and her eyes darted along the horizon, only lightly flicking higher, as if to gaze too long at the sky would bring its great weight tumbling down. “My people are strong; we are used to the strange tides of our world and know not to openly panic about such things. To panic is to declare yourself to predators, isn’t that so? But under the calm I can feel them thinking. Wondering. Just where have the stars all gone?”

The Mariner had no answer, and he watched her pop a slice of apple into her mouth and chew. The dark mood upon Diane lifted, momentary joy passing across her lips. “Wonderful! I was just growing weary. Please take some yourself.”

Despite the offer, Diane didn’t hold the plate any closer to her guest, instead keeping it firmly on her lap.

“What were you growing weary of?”

“It is tiresome, focusing all your energies to connect with the forces of Déjà vu; trying to shift the Cog, day in, day out.” Theatrically, Diane lifted a hand to her brow, leaning her head back as if her psychic strength was being tested. Somehow it seemed preposterous, given that she sat upon a calm beach eating fruit.

“I see,” he said, traces of sarcasm peeking through as he noticed the well-thumbed romance novel tucked beneath her leg.

Diane saw him looking and indignantly puffed herself up. “When you become as practised as I in dealing with the déjà vu, you start to sense situations in which you can confront it. Today I knew, I sensed, that I would connect to my previous lives through reading this book.” Defensively, she held the book aloft as if it were a shield, rather than a luxury item she’d deemed to hide. “Just as I knew that I would confront déjà vu when eating this fruit. Even now I am struggling against a déjà vu in this very conversation. It is most exhausting.”

The glare he was subjected to told him to leave it, but the illogic couldn’t remain untested.“If you sensed that you would confront a déjà vu whilst reading that book, why didn’t you do something else instead? Wouldn’t that have the same effect as challenging it once it had started?”

“Absolutely not,” she sniffed. “The key is to break déjà vu as it occurs, not run away from the experience. Trying to shift the Cog by acting on ‘feelings’ is completely impractical, they may merely be feelings after all.”

“Quite.”

Diane narrowed her eyes and gave him a haughty look before turning away. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have to get back to work.” At that she picked up her book and began to read, ending their conversation with icy silence.

That was the closest he got to being schooled in the ways of the monks. Grace, whilst being enthusiastic about living in the zoo, had no intention of being silly like the shift seekers. McConnell was outright hostile to the idea, yet he still carried out his chores to the letter. Like the Mariner, he enjoyed seeing Grace content, and was willing to swallow his religious zeal to make it happen. McConnell and the Mariner didn’t speak again of the reverend’s suspicions, though McConnell watched him closely in the days that followed, seeking for a clue into the Mariner’s thoughts.

Diane’s memory of the stars had surprised him. He’d assumed because McConnell had forgotten them, so would everyone else, but then he reminded himself that Grace had remembered the zoo, whilst Tetrazzini hadn’t. Was the process random? Was it a disease, striking indiscriminately as Tetrazzini had eluded?

He’d tested the theory with the resident cook Megan, approaching the conversation carefully, with enough space to back away if he sensed trouble.

“Diane and I had a little chat when I delivered the fruit.”

“Oh yes? You are fortunate, it’s rare to be allowed to converse with the Priestess privately.”

“It was only brief,” he said, approaching the topic whilst bracing himself for the slightest hint at trouble. “We were discussing how difficult it’s been to see at night recently…”

She turned to him, speaking low, her manner like that of a rabbit that had seen a hawk. “Where have they gone? Henry thinks it’s a gas in the air, something thick enough to keep the light out. I think it might be a sign though, you know, of the déjà vu beginning to crack? We must be getting close. That’s it isn’t it? Good news?”

He nodded thoughtfully, and under her desperate and fearful gaze felt the need to reassure her, even though no assurance could be given. “Yes,” he lied. “That’s probably it.”

Twice a day the Mariner would visit the Neptune and check on the devils. In the morning he’d travel with Grace, allowing her time to play with and feed them. Every visit they would greet her like excited puppies, all scrabbling for her affection. Whilst she entertained them, the Mariner took the time to check on the ship for signs of intrusion. He never found any. It seemed the monks were content to let the ship remain unexplored.