Chasing the Storm (part 1)

The sky was clear and the sun bit on the exposed skin of the fishers below. Rex’s mom always told him to stay in the shade on days this bright, but he couldn’t keep himself from being out in the light, basking in the warmth. The faraway islands to the east caught light on their metal dock-towers, and Rex watched skyboats and gliders drift around the spindly frames, coming down for a rest or leaving for another wind-borne journey.

One day he would be on one of those ships. A strong current would whip through his hair as he watched a school of fish dive out of a cloud, and he would be home. For now circumstance tethered him to the ground, but his feet were not heavy enough to anchor him forever, and the promise of a life in the sky would carry his spirits in the meantime.

A tall man with his beard forked in the older style bumped roughly into Rex from behind, knocking him down a step. The man was carrying a skyline like Rex’s, a string with kites or balloons to hold it aloft and a colorful tassel and hook at the end. The tool was a staple of skyfishers everywhere, allowing them to bring the creatures of the clouds down to earth and turn them into food for their families.

The skylines were long, but not long enough to become too stretched and snap. As such, they were most effective when used from a high place to reach more clouds, which was why Rex had woken up early today and staked out on the tallest hill on the island. It was a coveted spot that all the fishers implicitly agreed belonged to whoever got there first on a given day, and today that person was Rex. But the tall fisher was now ousting Rex from it and setting up his own line on the spot.

The man smirked without looking at Rex as he staked one end of his line into the ground. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “Didn’t see you there, little missy.”

Rex rolled his eyes. “I was here first.”

“Were you?” The man spooled his line slowly into the sky. “The currents are strong up here, girl; a small fry like you could get carried away. Why don’t you go drag a net in the water?”

“Because there’s no big fish down there,” Rex said to himself more than the man, but he reeled in his line: having two fishers on the small hill would only result in tangling skylines and neither of them catching fish.

Being kicked out of this spot might not be a bad thing, Rex realized as he slid down the steep hill edge. There were hardly any clouds today except for fast-moving low drifters; a high line would miss them completely and only catch the thinner fish that flew outside of clouds. Better to move to the side of the island where the wind was blowing from and run his line low.

The fishers were out in force now, but their voices faded as Rex moved down to the edge of the island. On a grassy stretch on the western tip the breeze first met the land, so Rex stopped here. He unspooled his skyline into the wind, hooking weights on the kite notches to pull it lower. Soon his line was sailing not far above the water, at the same height as the incoming clouds.

There wouldn’t be any big fish this low, but maybe he would still catch an interesting one. Grey flitters drifted in smaller clouds where their sparkling scales would look like light catching on the waves, and diving dartfish flew low to spot small underwater prey on their long, ocean-crossing migrations. Maybe a sunspotter would swing down from its higher perch to hide from hunting fish on this clear day.

Rex’s daydreams were so vivid that the shape in the sky first seemed to be another product of his imagination, until a guttural roar carried over the water and stirred him. Far over the horizon, eclipsing a swath of the sun’s bright wash, a massive creature of deep blue and shocking green was climbing through the sky directly towards the island. It was long and wide, twisting through the air like a slow ribbon, and as it grew closer its grey underbelly was larger than a stormcloud. It roared again, a throaty howl that reached the shore despite the considerable distance. It was the largest fish Rex had ever seen in his life.

His breaths came short as the creature fixed itself in his view, but as he marveled, black lines materialized under the leviathan. They stretched on one end from harpoons in the fish’s flesh, and on the other end they pulled a long skyboat emerging from the sky. The vessel was trailing splinters as large wooden beams fell from its crumbling frame, toppling down to the sea far below. Its cloth sails were in tatters, and as the harpoon lines snapped and the fish swam upward into the sky, the ship began a speedy descent straight towards Rex.

Rex’s feet were pounding down the dock before he realized what he was doing. There was a waterfishing boat tied at the end, and he leaped in and began unmooring it; explaining the situation to the boat’s owner would have to come later. The paddles plunged into the water and Rex strained his arms to propel the boat as fast as he could towards the falling ship.

The nose was tipping now, tugging the ship faster towards the water. Far above, billows of white were streaming from the creature’s skin: it was creating a thick cloud, and in moments its cover was thick enough to hide it completely. If it weren’t for the diving ship, he wouldn’t be sure he hadn’t daydreamed all of this.

The crew weren’t visible, but the reorienting of the sails proved that at least the ship wasn’t empty. As it began to skim over the water, kicking up sprays below, the wing-sails rotated to try to catch the wind and keep from grounding. The entire creaking construction was skipping on a crash course for the shore, and Rex could only imagine the consequences of it colliding. Not only would the ship be shredded, but half of the cloth-and-wood homes would be flattened by the giant vessel. The splinters and beams flying everywhere would be a massive danger to the islanders, and it would be a miracle if no one were killed.

The wingsails whistled like a sea serpent howling, louder than Rex could have expected. The prow loomed massive before him, and he could make out a figure at the wheel waving frantically for him to move out of the way. As the collapsing ship roared by and caught the small boat under it, Rex leaped to a rope dangling from the edge and hung on as it whipped in the air. His ears were battered by the wind and he was slammed into the side, but he got his feet between him and the hull and pulled himself up to the deck.

The scene was one of desperate action. A crew of five or more ran from place to place, adjusting ropes directing sails and moving weight. The sailors themselves were fascinating in their clothes and body markings, but Rex had no time to focus on that. He dashed immediately to the fore, where a woman with a large-brimmed hat and black braids reaching the backs of her knees was wrestling with the wheel and shouting directions behind her.

He skidded to a stop. The island was growing in size, a cluster of innocent homes directly down the sightlines of the prow. He yelled to the helmsman, “You have to steer clear of the island!”

Her gritted face scowled in the foamy spray, and she spat before barking, “I’m trying! Sails ripped, she won’t turn fast enough! Unless you have a genius idea, we’re in for a rough landing.”

The deck shuddered with another skip of the hull on the water, and Rex nearly slipped before catching his balance. He scanned the ship and saw that the sails were indeed in poor state to make quick turns. With no hope of gaining altitude to go over the island, the crew was doing their best to tilt the ship starboard to open sea, but it wasn’t going well.

“Don’t just stand there!” the helmsman shouted. “Go help them move weight starboard!”

He nodded and ran to the side. Crew that weren’t hauling lines with all their strength were moving cargo to the side. Just looking at the deck made it clear that there wasn’t enough weight to make a difference in time. The distance to collision was rapidly diminishing, and the ship was hardly even listing to the side.

Off the side, the starboard windsail was crackling under its efforts. It was tilted so the fore end pointed down towards the water, and Rex imagined the port wingsail was oriented the opposite direction, so that together they would pull to starboard. In any other circumstance, he would be thrilled to be seeing the skyship mechanisms he’d only ever thought about in the flesh, but there was no time for enjoyment now.

There had to be some way to drag the ship in the water to slow it down and turn it, but Rex saw nothing suitable on deck. As he thought furiously, he was struck by the almost comical observation that the wingsail looked a lot like the wide side fins of a spinnerfish. The low-flying fish were named after the way they made sharp turns above the water by dipping a fin into the sea, pivoting their bodies quickly to the side of that fin. This ship was absolutely not made for that, but maybe the same idea could work.

Before he could get cold feet, Rex vaulted over the side and onto the rod holding the wingsail. Above, someone yelled at him, but he couldn’t hear them over the deafening claps of the sail sheet buckling in the wind. With his hands and one foot clinging to the rod and his other foot using the extended sail as a tumultuous stepping surface, he shuffled down the sail. As he did, the flexible wood of the rod bent under his weight. It was meant to be loose and curve in the wind rather than resisting rigidly, so his presence pulled it down considerably. The far end started skipping with violent sprays against the water, but it still wasn’t enough to provide drag. He clambered farther and farther, his position becoming more precarious, and the sail bent more and more until finally the tip dipped fully under the water and stayed there.

There was a massive wrenching as suddenly the ocean gripped the sail, pulling more and more of it below. The sudden drag on the starboard side began to tilt the whole ship in that direction, but Rex couldn’t see if it was enough. He was clutching the mast as tightly as he could, trying not to get ripped away: if his weight disappeared, he wasn’t sure that the sail would stay underwater. He was now hanging upside down, and his head kept slamming into the water with hard smacks that yanked at his neck.

Slowly, the roaring in his ears settled, and the movement calmed until the ship was nearly still in the water. Momentum gone, the ship listed back to center, the mast pulling back out of the water. The movement was sudden and Rex, caught off-guard, toppled with a splash.

When he surfaced, the ship wasn’t a mangled mess strewn across the island, so he could only assume his idea had worked. He breathed a sigh of relief.

After a moment, a rope ladder was flung off the side of the ship, and Rex grabbed hold and climbed up.

He had expected an exhausted calm on deck, but instead he witnessed the crew still moving with urgency. No one spared him more than a glance as he came aboard, instead seeming to focus on repairs as they expertly unrolled new sails in place of the torn ones and braced together points where wood had snapped. Off the port bow, his island stood still, seemingly oblivious to its near escape. A wake lapped onto the shore and quickly dissipated.

There was a call from the helm. “Islander! Come here.” It was the helmsman.

Rex got a good look at the woman now, taking in her salt-worn skin and creased eyes. She wore a simple long-sleeved shirt and wide-ankled pants, but her massive hair and bold, thick hat gave her a commanding aura. Her scratchy, short voice was still calling out orders to the crew, and Rex assumed she was the captain.

He froze for a beat as her scrutinizing gaze turned to him. She looked him up and down appraisingly. Funnily, she was about the same height as he was, but she bore herself intimidatingly enough that he felt no comfort from this fact.

“That was well done, young lady,” she said. “I thought for sure we were crashing. I’m told you dragged the sail into the water to turn us?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am— um— should I call you ma’am?”

Her boot rubbed into the deck. “Call me whatever, I’m not your captain. My name’s Kainene though. Yours?”

“Rex.”

“One second.” The captain, Kainene, tilted her head to peek behind Rex and shouted, “Hey, Mahoko! Dump some of the rations! We’ll have plenty of fish for the next stretch, and the islanders can come pick up the barrels if they want.” A thin woman with a clipboard who seemed to be an officer nodded and directed crewmembers to follow the captain’s orders.

“Well met, Rex,” Kainene said. “I thank you for what you did for us today.” She extended her forearm with her fist closed and her palm-side upward. It looked to Rex like some kind of symbolic gesture that he didn’t recognize.

At his lack of understanding, she cleared her throat and said, “Ah, I suppose that’s not a thing you do here. Just know I and my crew are grateful. We don’t have much cargo, but you’re welcome to any of the food we’re leaving, and we have some special fishing line that might interest you.”

He nodded. “Thank you, that’s very kind. What was that creature you were chasing?”

Her lower lip pulled in and she looked to the sky where the creature had vanished. Despite the cloudless morning, a thick blanket of gray was now drifting forward from where the fish had departed. It seemed to carry higher into the sky, growing less distinct until it became a blurred shape bright under the sun. There was no sign of the targeted creature: to Rex’s best guess, it had probably created the cloud cover to disappear in and slow its pursuers. Still, the direction of the clouds created a vague arrow suggesting the direction in which it had headed.

“That’s a thunderhead whale. One of the rarest fish in the sky. Damn hard to catch because of the clouds it covers itself in, but we’re gonna be the first crew to do it.” She surveyed the ship damages. “Gonna lose half a day here repairing, though. Damn, that thing’s strong.”

“You’re going back after it?” Rex asked. The ship clearly needed to be fixed in an actual shipyard, and there was one just one island over. Half a day of improvised, self-performed repairs was a brave estimate.

“No other choice,” Kainene said. “Wait too long, and it’ll get away for good. You don’t wanna know how long we’ve already been trailing this one.”

The captain’s teeth were set in a determined half-scowl, half-grin shape. It was an expression Rex had only ever seen on sailors, and he’d come to associate it with a passion verging on insanity.

“Can I join your crew?”

Kainene blinked at him, then guffawed. “Ha! Sorry, kid, but hell no. Good try, though.”

“Why not?”

A small school of grey flitterfish skimmed over the water. The fishers on the island would catch a few of them, if they were being smart and setting their lines low. Rex had spent dozens of afternoons watching the small fish dance in the sea foam. They never stayed very long; they’d dawdle for a moment to watch the waterfish and soak in the sun, but then they went off to continue their journeys.

“Look,” Kainene started. He appreciated that she didn’t bend down to talk to him, even if it was just because they were the same height. “I’m glad you want to be on a skyship; nothing wrong with that. But this ain’t a safe one to be on. We play risky and chase hard, and until we catch that thunderhead, we aren’t making enough to live lavish. If you want to be a sailor, you should start on one of those cargo ships; they’ll show you the ropes, and if you still like it after all that, you can join a crew doing something more exciting. But this isn’t the place for you, little lady.”

“I’m not a little lady,” Rex said. “I want to see all the fish in the sky. None of the ships will take an islander, but you saw I can be useful.” He was pleading at this point, but his eyes were wide and dry. “Please. I’m not doing anything on this island. My family catches more than enough fish to live off of. I’m tired of fishing on the ground. I want to go to the places you go to.”

The captain clutched her temple with two fingers. “Hala, forgive me,” she muttered to herself as she shook her head before straightening. “Alright, Rex. If you want a taste of the sky that bad… I can take you on. For now.”

Rex yelped with joy and jumped into the air, and the captain had to wrest his attention back from his celebration. “Hey, hey, I said for now. If you can’t cut it on my ship, or I think it ain’t safe for you, or I just decide I don’t like the look of you, I’m sending you right back down, got it?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “You won’t have to worry about that, captain. I promise you won’t regret this. Woo!” He pumped his arms into the air again.

“Alright, alright, settle down.” Kainene laughed in spite of herself. “Forgot how kids can be. Hala. Alright, go get your stuff and bring it to the ship. If you bring more than the bare minimum, I’m throwing it overboard.”

The rest of the day for Rex comprised of making his leave from home. His parents gave their blessing for him to leave and accepted the captain’s gift of rare foreign supplies in exchange for their youngest child’s employment. After brief but sweet goodbyes with his parents and cousins, Rex gathered a sack of essentials and paddled back to the ship.

By the time he returned, the ship was ready to go. As the crew manned their positions for departure, Kainene stood at the helm and addressed them all.

“Alright, crew! The thunderhead gave us the slip this time, but we’re still on its tail. Ship is back in shape and we’re ready to give chase again, and this time, once that whale’s tail is in our teeth, we ain’t letting go.”

The crew gave a cheer, some of them stomping their assent. Kainene continued, “Other news, we’ve got a new shipmate, name of Rex. Mahoko, I’ll be leaving her to you; rest of you, show Rex how we do things around here. Long as she’s here, she’s your skysister, through thick and thin. Rex, that goes for you too. Get a good look, because these people are your crew, and the bond of crew is stronger than family.”

The crew cheered again, and Rex joined them with a loud whoop. The sun still glimmered through the clouds on the trail ahead of them, casting his new home in a bright orange glow. The wind was picking up, and the sky above waited, blue as can be.

“Alright, crew. Get those sails up and get us going. We’ve got a whale to catch.” The captain smiled, and her eyes met Rex’s. “Onwards,” she said, with the sun at her back. “Onwards to glory in the air, or may we find our grave in the water below.”