Chapter Five: Tokyo Blues — Part 7

It takes a moment for Kiyoshi to get his wind back from Blake’s recent punch to the gut. His edge of vision is hazed black, his thoughts are rushing with the ringing sound of red, and his eyes are disturbed by the sparkle and flitter of tiny white spots rushing like the flare of fireworks from the center of his vision out. Slowly the feeling passes, and the sight of the Captain, shaft still protruding from his shoulder, comes into focus against a sunrise realization that he is now prisoner on a ship of men and women who are, if not all physically stronger than him, probably far braver than he is.

“What is your full name?” Joe demands of their new guy.

“Kiyoshi Shimabukuro.” Kiyoshi keeps his eyes averted to the ground as he talks.

“So you speak English.” Joe says quietly, “That’s good. Do you speak it well?”

“I am fluent in English, Mandarin, Spanish — ” Kiyoshi says, and is presently interrupted by a quiet smack on the top of his head.

“I didn’t ask for you go-damned Linguistic resume, sunshine!”

Behind him, Daria grumbles, “Fucking C-3PO.”

Joe ignores her. “I just want to make sure you understand the situation you’re in here. Two of my crew — ”

“ChoCho’s been hurt too, Blake wanted you to know he’s going to be busy, and why isn’t your ass down here already?” Paige shouts from the below-deck entry.

“You tell that mothering bitch that I’ll be down when I’m fucking well ready.” Joe shouts back, and his face turns suddenly stern, “Make that three of my crew, not including myself, that are badly hurt. My First Mate is barely emotionally stable enough to follow my orders and tend to their injuries, which also has my navigator busy, because he’s doing some drastic life saving procedures even as we speak. So you’re going to have to answer one question honestly, or I will let my First Mate and Chief Head Basher determine the comfort of your stay here on the Edgewind. Where will this arch lead us?”

To Joe, Kiyoshi doesn’t seem like too bad a guy. He’s young, will probably never need to shave, could be seventeen, but is probably in his early twenties, given the maturity of his tone. He’s got a baby face, all things considered. His eyes are deep brown with just a fleck of gold. His hair is thick, straight, and black. He isn’t a gangly wrap of wires, and he’s not a buffed out jock. Marshmallow wouldn’t describe him either. He is, for all intents and purposes, the Japanese equivalent of an average Joe. He’s also short, thin, and as Joe sees it, Kiyoshi looks exhausted. He is slow to answer, but Joe lets him take his time.

“It goes north to an island. I do not know that island’s name.” Kiyoshi says quietly.

“We can figure that out when we land. Any idea how many arches there are up there? We aren’t going back the way we came, not with so many injured.” Joe says, not mentioning the fungal pig plague or Jynx’s unexpected infection that had delayed them in Hawaii.

“There are three more, but our fliers haven’t explored them.”

“Daria, tie him to the mizzen-mast until we’re arch-borne. We’re going to the unknown island in the North. We’ll work our shit out from there.” Joe says.

“Uh, Captain.” Daria says quietly, motioning for Joe, who moves close to Daria. “We don’t have a mizzen-mast. That would be the third Mast from the prow.”

“Yar then,” Joe says, looking tired, “Tie him down where I can watch him while we’re navigating the arch, I don’t want him getting himself killed for trying something clever.”

“Are you sure you’re in shape to man the sails?” Daria asks. “You’ve still got an arrow in your shoulder that needs to be dug out.

“As soon as we’re safely aligned, I promise to put you in charge of the sails. For now, we can’t risk a spill. So get to your guide sail, let George, Jude, and Jynx handle the other three and lets get snug, shall we?”

Daria nods, tying Kiyoshi to the forward mast and taking control of the front right guide sail. Joe turns the ratchets on the main sails with his good arm, tightening them so they can snag the breeze coming down the river, then sails into it, catching the arch even as he sees the men with fans moving in by the dozen to try to capture him. He knows the trick they’re using is the same physics that gets the Edgewind off of the water, and though he doesn’t see where they’ve come from, he knows to move as fast as they are, they must have dropped into the low gravity from Earth standard gravity from at least twenty feet. They’re moving like hummingbirds, legs kicking massive paper flippers that push them hard into the bowl of the arch, arms stretched for guidance. Despite all their efforts to build a speed faster than the Edgewind, the Ship leaves them behind, leaving a trail of broken air currents that send them slamming off of the bowl and in many cases into each other.

One smart flyer manages to stay on their tail until they are in the arch, and even starts to gain on them. Once he hits the compression wave, and is knocked backward, his hand and foot fins shattered in the blast of air, any hope of catching up is gone with him. Joe screams orders to the guide sails, calls to Daria once the course is set, and has Jynx unbind him and carry him into the ship’s belly. Kiyoshi, for his part, doesn’t put up a hint of a fight. Once he is secured in the hold, Joe leans down closely to him, smiling savagely.

“That party was sent to rescue you, or take the ship?”

“Maybe they wanted to come with?” Kiyoshi says innocently.

“They didn’t bring food, and they weren’t heavily armed.” Daria says. “I’m guessing a rescue party.”

“Admirable. Who is in charge in your absence?”

“You think I am leader?”

“Why send a dozen men to save anybody else?”

“The Old man would never have sanctioned — ” Kiyoshi began, pausing, then continued ” — Unless he was certain they would have no chance of succeeding.”

“No chance?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Why not?” Daria asked.

“We need your alliance to survive.” On the subject, Kiyoshi says nothing more.

Nor does Joe push the issue. “Daria, sail us true, I’m going to have to go and take my own medicine now.”

“Yes Captain, Oh Captain.” Daria says politely.

“And one more thing.” Joe says.

“We’re going to Tó Naneesdizí. If I don’t come back and relieve you, you’re to stay in command of this vessel until the crew votes Blake calm enough to step up.”

She watches Joe stagger toward her quarters, which, being the largest on board ship, has undoubtedly been chosen as ground zero for stabilizing the injured. It hasn’t quite hit her that ChoCho was injured, nor will it sink into the recesses of her brain until some hours later, when nobody comes to relieve her of her post, just how seriously Joe must have been injured. In their current state, with so few hands to manage things, Daria focuses on keeping the deck level, and keeps her mind off of the condition of her crew. She knows she can’t worry, because for Daria, worry leads to fear, fear leads to arousal, and arousal leads to crazy. Knowing this, Daria does everything she can to keep her mind completely blank.

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