Chapter 3: Control Surfaces Checkout

Author's Note

While reading the reviews I noticed a comment believing that the Kitsashi was a nuclear submarine. Since it is Yannai's invention and not mine, I wanted to take time to clear up what the Kitsashi is, and what it can and can't do.

The Kitsashi is an Oyashio-class JMSDF submarine, and is the main military unit and means of conveyance to the MC in Weigh Anchor. As an Oyashio-class boat, it has six forward-facing torpedo tubes and relies on diesel-electric propulsion. They carry aboard a combination of Type 89 torpedoes and Harpoon anti-ship missiles which cannot, have not, and will never carry a nuclear weapon, due to Japan's nuclear policy, which is unlikely to change for the foreseeable future.

The Kitsashi is also not going to appear in this story beyond casual mention, given that her crew and her fate are largely unknown until someone translates Weigh Anchor. Even if did, it would never carry or fire a nuclear weapon.

Besides, as Colonel Mullan once said. "Officially, there are no nuclear weapons in the Special Region…"

The Imperial Palace, Sadera

In his time working for the United States government, Robert Clayton had learned hundreds of useful quotes and idioms, but his experience in Falmart for the previous four years could have best been summed up by "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

Perhaps the best example of this was the peculiar position he'd found himself in at the end of President Dirrel's administration. During his time as Secretary of Defense, he had become the most informed and most involved politician with regards to operations beyond the Gate. As a result, when the new administration moved into the White House the following January, Clayton's name was at the top of the list of potential ambassadors to the Saderan Empire. While the position didn't come with the same level of gravitas as Secretary of Defense, it still allowed him to work with a group of people, both on the other side of the Pacific and the other side of the Galaxy Cluster, that he'd come to know and respect. It also let him remain in the loop with regards to two very exciting projects relating to the Special Region, both of which he was hoping to see conclude before the next Presidential election.

That particular afternoon, he was responding to summons by Empress Pina Co Lada. It was seven years later, but he still couldn't help shaking his head over the idea. He had been present with Sugawara during the official ceremony, but for all that he appreciated Pina's dignity, he didn't think her competent enough to run a chain restaurant, much less an Empire. When Japan and America had offered to help move Falmart to a pure Parliamentary system, she had accepted at once, and then generally left all discussion to her advisors, senators, and a handful of Earth lawyers.

"She does not want the position," Sugawara had once told him. "But with Molt's abdication, Zorzal's assassination, and Diabo's neutralization, there's no one else to hold the throne until the new Constitution is in place."

Clayton ran into Pina earlier than he'd expected. She was gazing up at a large painting of herself, clad in her Rose Order armor, standing proudly while aiming a handgun at an equally armored, kneeling Zorzal. In the picture, Pina appeared triumphant, her brother defiant, and the artist had taken pains with the lighting to clearly bias the audience in terms of who was "good" and "evil" in the scene.

The perfect propaganda piece for visitors, and a complete bastardization of the actual events of the raid. In reality, Zorzal had been captured in his nightclothes by SEAL Team Six. He had then been zip-tied, drugged, and dumped onto the floor like garbage before Pina even made it into the room.

Pina noticed Clayton standing down the hall and, pointing up at the picture asked, in Japanese, "Do you remember this?"

"I was watching the operation with President Dirrel in the White House Situation Room," Clayton said, with a nod. "It wasn't as vivid or colorful though, and it had a large delay."

"I would've preferred that option," Pina said. "I remember… I remember feeling so sick. I should've felt happy that the civil war was over, but I just felt sick. And now? It's starting to look like a new civil war is around the corner, and I'm starting to feel like I felt back then."

Clayton gave her a supportive smile that he didn't feel. "That's what we'll be talking about at today's meeting," he said. "I wouldn't want to start early and leave Sugawara-san out of the negotiations."

"Of course."

The two moved down the hall and through the guarded door of a grand drawing room that opened out onto a balcony. Within, a table had already been set with some refreshments and parchment. Behind each side sat the aides of each group, which in themselves still illustrated the technological gap between the two parties. On Pina's side, a small handful of aides struggled to finish up their arrangement of pens and parchment, and would be scrambling through the meeting to catch and keep up with every word. On the American and Japanese side, two secretaries, one for each country, chatted about a TV show as they sat waiting at their laptops. One stopped in her conversation to adjust the position of a Bluetooth microphone before noticing Clayton's entry, offered him a polite nod, and rested her hands on the computer keyboard.

At the table itself, Ambassador Sugawara was finishing a whispered conversation with Countess Sherry, who gave a high, girlish giggle before straightening up, smoothing out her dress, and, saying, "Ambassador Clayton, always an honor!"

"Likewise, Lady Tyueli"

Every age had its child prodigies; its Wolfgang Mozarts, Alexander Popes, and Jet Lis. They showed up under every field in the arts, athletics, and sciences, and were raved about in public circles for centuries to come. To be fair, Falmart had its share of exceptionally smart people, Lelei La Lelena and Greta Sareteian chief among them, but it had only produced one true child prodigy. Unfortunately, rather than grant her ability in a mundane field like music or physics, the Gods had seen fit to curse the people of Earth by making the Saderan prodigy a Political Scientist.

Sherry Tyueli had only just turned twelve years old at the time of the Ginza Incident, and had shown up on Japan's radar when she loudly declared her intent to court and marry then-Ministry-of-Foreign-affairs agent Sugawara. While Sugawara had initially declined, he had reversed his stance when, a few months later, Zorzal's purges killed both of her parents and placed her, crying, on the perimeter of the Jade Palace Embassy. After a daring intervention by the JSDF, Sherry had found herself moved to Italica, where her connection to Countess Myui Formal lead her to the chambers of recovering former Emperor Molt Sol Augustus. There, she had taken up her studies under the former leader, and had effectively skewered the Japanese diplomats during final peace negotiations. She had then remained in Italica for the remainder of the civil war, and had been (thankfully) absent during the Second Battle of Alnus and the nuclear crisis. In the intervening years, she had grown up to be a beautiful young woman, and while she no longer explicitly pressed her interest in marrying Sugawara, the Japanese diplomat no longer seemed able to shrug off her advances. Now, at the age of 19, she had become a Countess, Pina's closest advisor, and easily the single most powerful woman in the Empire.

Sugawara started first. "Pina, on behalf of our two governments, we wanted to apologize for not accepting an audience with you yesterday, as Ambassador Clayton and I were busy updating our governments on the situation."

"No problem!" Sherry said with a courteous grin and nod. "The additional time gave us an opportunity to come up with an appeal, and outline the dangers currently facing our nation. Isn't that right, Empress?"

Pina nodded her assent, and Clayton was given the impression of a trained dog. "Us" my ass, he thought, whatever we hear next is going to be 100% Sherry. If Pina had it her way, she'd hand over her whole office to Sherry in a heartbeat.

"Before we start," Clayton said, "I wanted to repeat my administration's regrets over Cicero La Moltose-"

"Yes, I read the letter by Mr. Bezos and Blue Origin," Pina said. "Very touching."

"-and I would like to see, if I may, the assassin's weapon."

Sherry turned around and waved at one of the guards at the back of the room, who approached and put the crude firearm on the table.

Sugawara picked it up first, and, displaying it to Clayton said in English, "I'm somewhat surprised. This could've come from an Elizabethan armory."

"Or maybe a little later. That's definitely a Flintlock." Clayton had seen plenty of these in the private collection at West Point and the Smithsonian, and was deeply unsettled by the fact that the gun in Sugawara's hands had not come from an Earth Museum.

"Our best locksmiths are currently trying to copy the firing mechanism," Pina supplied. "And I am hoping that we'll be able to apply the technology to make canons and guns of our own."

Clayton remembered long ago, standing in the Florida sun, warning Dr. Carol Dawson about this exactly possibility. The idea of guns in the Special Region wasn't far-fetched at all. In fact, Japan's entire gun industry had started when a Sengoku-era lord had purchased a pair of matchlocks from some stranded Portuguese travelers. Within thirty years, every army in ancient Japan was using them. Unlike Japan's Sengoku period, wyvern riders meant that news in Falmart traveled relatively quickly, and the utter destruction wreaked by the JSDF clearly demonstrated the superiority of the gunpowder firearm. Clearly, someone in Rondel had taken the next step and built their own.

"You seem upset," Sherry noted.

"Naturally," Sugawara said, returning to Japanese. "We were hoping that the people of Falmart would be more interested in mimicking our world's tools of peace and industry. To see a tool of war is a painful reminder that not all people wish for the same."

The girl next to Pina nodded eagerly at that. "We were hoping that we wouldn't need to resort to such measures. In the event that a conflict does break out we are hoping that we can expect the support of our Earth allies, as we did in the last civil war."

Clayton leaned back in his chair. There it was. During his time as Secretary of Defense, he had heard that same statement, over, and over, and over again, from Africa, from the Middle East, from Southeast Asia, and, yes, from Japan during the end of Dirrel's administration, as it looked like the Korean Peninsula was about to explode. "Can we expect American support in this conflict?" Fortunately, this time he didn't need to make a choice on the matter.

"Since American presence on this side of the Gate is an extension of our Mutual Defense Treaty with Japan, we follow their requests in terms of the level of support we provide," Clayton said. "At this time, they have a hard limit on the scope of American forces permitted through the Gate so the answer you seek ultimately rests with Japan."

The rest of the table looked to Sugawara, who took a deep breath, and said, "We see the rightful Saderan government as regional allies, which is why the government of Japan would be willing to provide limited logistical support-"

Pina rose and slammed her palm on the table, "I don't need logistics, I need guns!"

"Pina-sama-" Sugawara tried, to no avail.

"No, you listen! Japan's unwillingness to pledge early support to me during the last war cost many of my men, many of my friends. It cost Sherry her own parents. Had the Jade Palace not been threatened, or if Itami had not provided more than logistical support, then I would likely not be alive today!"

Sherry placed a hand on her arm, forcing her to stop and look down. The advisor shook her head, and Pina, with an explosive sigh, dropped back into her seat. "We appreciate whatever help we can get," Sherry said. "While it is unfortunate that we won't be receiving the level of assistance that we'd hoped for, I do hope that Japan recognizes the ease with which any conflict could spill over into the territory around Alnus, and the value of brining such a conflict to a fast conclusion."

Sugawara gave an appreciative nod and said, "I will relay your concerns to the Diet, that's all I can promise right now."

"And America?"

"America, first and foremost, stands with Japan," Clayton replied.

"Unfortunate. Thank you both for your time."

Meeting clearly over, Pina was up immediately. She stormed out of the room, clearly upset, her group of aides in tow. As Clayton was about to leave, Sherry said, "Koji-kun, I want to have a few more words with Ambassador Clayton, do you mind?"

"Not at all," Sugawara said with a smile, "Take all the time you need, I'll meet up with you later in the second floor gallery."

Clayton didn't want to watch any more and headed for the balcony. The situation between Sugawara and Sherry was a special kind of mess, and he had already written to the State Department about the fact that Sugawara's interests were clearly compromised. The Japanese Foreign Ministry didn't seem interested… or perhaps they thought that the connection allowed Sugawara some sway over Sherry. It didn't, of course, but the Japanese Government wasn't present to know that.

The view from the railing offered a grand overview of Sadera. Like most of the other major cities in the Special Region, Sadera had undergone a significant transformation with the influx of new mathematics and engineering knowledge. Unlike some other cities, however, Pina had been partially at the behest of Rory, who had insisted that Sadera not lose its architecture in favor of modernization. The result was that Sadera managed to keep much of its Classical architectural beauty, while a new, organized industrial center sat outside of the city gates. With resources split between rebuilding old Sadera and constructing new Sadera, it wasn't quite as far along as Rondel, but in exchange it managed to keep that wonderful old-world feel that gave Falmart's structures their novelty. From here he could see one other interesting addition of note, an airstrip, constructed originally at the request of the Imperial Aviation Group, and now serving a small fleet of magic-powered aircraft for scouting, shipping, and message delivery.

"I hear that there are places on Earth like this," Sherry said as she approached. "Beautiful combinations of old and new. Kyoto, for instance. Koji says that he'll take me there someday."

The fact that she said all of this in perfect English was as unnerving now as it was during her earliest attempts. It had taken her three years of continuous effort, and she was one of about four people in the Special Region that had picked up the language with any fluency. "Is there anywhere like that in the United States, Mr. Clayton?"

"America is a relatively new country, so no, sadly." He looked at her and noticed her annoyed pout out at the world below.

"Perhaps that's why you were able to form your Constitution so easily," she said. "The American colonies began with a similar heritage and history, and all of your significant lands were purchased, given, or joined of their own accord. The Saderan Empire doesn't have such a luxury."

It was a painful reminder that Sherry was also one of two Saderans to have ever read an American History textbook. Clayton shrugged. "Democracy is hard, and not always fair, but usually it's fairer than the alternatives."

"Tell that to the Senate. We're still a year away from finishing population representation negotiations with the Warrior tribes to the northeast, and that's an optimistic estimate. Not all the Senators see the rabbit-folk as equals, and are sure to continue fighting against them having a large voting bloc. It was hard enough getting them to reduce the minimum age for Senators so that demihumans could serve at all. This whole thing with Rondel couldn't have come at a worse time."

"You could let them secede."

Sherry shook her head. "If Rondel seceded, it would never end. The Warrior tribes would come next, followed by the Imperial Colonies and every large or formerly independent city on the continent will abandon us. We would become a patchwork of city states like the old Avion Empire, and the only ones to prosper would be those that border the Japanese territory. Italica may side with us for now, but if other parties start to leave? Who knows? And that would be the end of the Great Saderan Empire."

"If this is a plea to intervene-"

"Don't make me laugh. America is already getting everything it wants from the Special Region. Calling on your Congress would be as productive as calling to the clouds in the sky. In fact, calling to the clouds might be more effective; some say the Gods still listen."

"Then what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Rather than spending American money on another foreign war, why not just give us something that belongs to us in the first place?"

Clayton suspected that he knew what was coming next, so he said, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Give us the Imperial Aviation Group."

"Don't you already have one?"

"Yes, but I want the original one. I want Greta."

Perhaps his predecessor had been asked about this more regularly, back when the event was still fresh, but this was the first time that Sherry had ever asked him. "I don't understand," he said.

"The entire core of the original Imperial Aviation Group suddenly vanishes one night, just a week after Falmart is cut off from Earth's science community, and neither Japan nor America appears to care. To me, this means that you either killed them all, or you moved them somewhere else. As for where you moved them to, America currently occupies a small island to the South in support of JMSDF actions in the Avion Sea. It is also, I suspect, where you are storing your Godwrecker weapons."

Clayton smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Well?" Sherry asked.

"I can neither confirm nor deny."

Sherry gave an annoyed pout. It would have been cute, had it not been in the context of strategic asset storage. "I guess that's the end of our talk," she said, and started for the door.

Clayton was thankful that the conversation had ended there. The deployment of additional nuclear weapons to the Special Region had been a touchy topic with both Dirrel's administration and the one that followed it. Both had agreed it necessary, but thanks to the Second Battle of Alnus, they knew that such a weapon could be deployed far from civilization. As such, the American nuclear deterrent was at neither Alnus nor the American base, but elsewhere...at least three places that would be extremely difficult for any known man or beast to reach, and impossible to attack simultaneously. These were distributed among six mobile launcher teams, half of which had fake warheads of Cobolt-66, so that even the soldiers themselves weren't sure which teams had the bombs, lest any God attempted to guess by listening to their conversations.

"One last thing," Sherry said, and Clayton turned to face her. The young woman had stopped by the door, and looked like a ghost in the dim interior of the palace. "If America did decide to intervene, how fast could you respond?"

But then, America wouldn't need the nuclear weapons for much longer. The smile left Clayton's face, and his eyes became cold, perhaps betraying a glimmer of the dangerous knowledge held within.

"Instantly," he said.

The Traxia, en route to Falmart

Since Ellie wasn't sure how prevalent airplanes were in Falmart, she decided that it would be in her better interests to buy passage on a ship bound for the east port of Proptor. From there, she had been told, it was possible to catch regular wagon trains to Italica, and then passage to Alnus.

The price of the trip was surprisingly cheap, as she had been willing to offer her skills as a weather spotter and night-time navigator to the crew. That evening, as she stood on the aft deck by the helmsman, she couldn't help but grin as she noticed the Night Triangle appear on their starboard side and float up into the evening sky.

"Really something, isn't it?" The helmsman said, noticing her gaze. "Makes you wonder how it stays up there, doesn't it?"

Ellie nodded. "If I knew how they got up there in the first place, it would probably be easier to understand."

"You know who would know? Hey, Crassus!"

On the other side of the aft deck, the First Officer looked up at hearing his name called. "Yes, Bennol?"

"Didn't you go to some lecture about the flying things a few years ago?"

Crassus immediately smiled in recollection. "That was the lecture by Greta La Sareteian. Truly a brilliant woman."

"What makes you say that?" Ellie asked.

"Greta was the one who learned how to build airplanes and rockets from the Americans and the Japanese."

She had never heard those last words before. "Who?"

"I forgot, you're a foreigner. The terms that I've heard floating around are the Men in Green and the Men in Tan. The Japanese are Green, the Americans are Tan."

Finally, information! "What are they like? Why do they call them Green and Tan?"

"Green and Tan is because of the color of their armor and vehicles," Crassus said. "Which is funny, because these are not the colors of their empires' banners. They are like us, but they have no demihumans, speak another language, and have machines and tools that are so strange that they seem like magic… but their world has no magic whatsoever, so they claim."

Ellie's eyes widened. "Their world?"

This time, it was the Helmsman, Bennol, who gave her an odd look. "Surely you heard of the Gate?"

"My town hadn't heard of the Saderan Empire until this week," Ellie argued, but her head was already swimming at the concept. A gate to another world? She had seen and witnessed many strange things both on land and out at sea, but this seemed more like a fantasy than anything else. Magic was capable of a great deal, but she had never heard of any kind of magic that could do something like that.

So the First Officer began his story. "There is… was… a sacred hill in Falmart at Alnus. Legend teaches us that all humans and demihumans from our land originally came from that place, in the form of a doorway to another world. Eight years ago, the doorway started to open again, and Emperor Mort Sol Augustus ordered it held in place and widened, so that he could send his armies through to the land beyond. He ordered the construction of the magic Gate, which now connects our world to that of the Americans and the Japanese…"

And so the story continued… the obliteration of the armies, Itami Youji, the Siege of Italica, the legend of the Fire Dragon and the civil war, but these were all in the vaguest terms. "I wasn't there for any of it," Crassus stated. "So I can't say how any of it went down. What I can say, is that the few Japanese that I've talked with were the nicest people I've ever met. Very polite, very approachable, usually friendly… but perhaps a bit cold? It reminded me of talking with aristocracy, except that they have no lords or kings. They have an Emperor, but he is apparently for display only, and holds no actual power."

"So where do the Americans come in?"

The first officer shrugged. "They just showed up one day and started launching rockets. One of them trained Greta La Sareteian a little in the ways of their rockets and airplanes. After the war, Pina put Greta to work building them, and sometimes on clear days you can see one making the trips between Italica, Sadera, and Rondel. After the war, she would go to the cities and towns giving lectures on the skies of Falmart and airplanes and rockets… mostly learned or discovered by the Japanese and Americans. Did you know that the Americans have visited their world's moon? The story was so unusual that I would have waived it off as ridiculous had Greta not provided pictures, and shown us some rockets as examples. If there is anyone who is not from among the Americans or Japanese who would know what the Night Triangle is, it would be Greta."

Ellie found that she was clenching the deck railing in excitement. She had narrowed down the source of the Night Triangle to Falmart, then the Men in Tan, and now this woman Greta. "Where would I find her?" She asked.

"You can't, she's gone."

"Gone!?" Ellie felt the trail slipping away and approached the first officer, so that they were now nearly face to face. "How? Gone where?"

"No one knows! Almost a year after the Godwrecker, Greta and her group of airplane-builders disappeared as well. If the Japanese and Americans know, they haven't said anything!"

Polite, approachable, friendly… cold. Now Ellie didn't know what to think.

Of course, there was that one piece that continued to float at the back of her mind, the melted man from the inn…

Which is why she was horrified when a voice behind her asked, "And what of the Godwrecker?"

Ellie whirled around to see Hector, standing at the top of the aft deck stairwell, his dark cloak making him appear like an evil spirit or ghost as he waited, watching. "What are you doing here?" Ellie said.

But Hector did not answer, his gaze remaining firm and fixed on the first officer. "Well," he said, "I have only heard rumors…"

"Rumors will suffice."

The Crassus looked out at the sea. "There was a second battle at Alnus Hill. They say that the Goddess Hardy, enraged by the destruction of her Flame Dragon, sent an army of monsters to destroy the Japanese and Americans."

And this, to Ellie, was the ultimate fantasy; she had never heard of a god waging a private war against men before. Perhaps it was because individual men were nothing before gods.

"And?"

"Hardy's army was utterly destroyed. They say that the battle was the first and only time that Japanese soldiers died, and even then, fewer than a hundred of them. Apparently, that's all it takes. The next morning, the Americans used the Godwrecker. They say that on that day, the leader of the American soldiers threatened to obliterate the gods themsevles, and the gods surrendered."

This last line was particularly shocking. "Surrendered?" Ellie said, aghast. "They made the gods surrender?"

"Perhaps you were too young to remember, but it used to be that you could pray to the gods for a boon, and sometimes your prayers would be answered. They would also send their Apostles to tour the world and assist the weary, or fight in wars. Since the Godwrecker? Not a single prayer has been directly answered, the priests have refused to speak on the matter, and the Apostles seem to have disappeared. Only Emroy's Rory was still regularly seen in public up to a few years ago, but even she has vanished."

"And may I find the leader of the American soldiers at Alnus?" Hector asked.

Crassus shrugged. "The Americans keep to themselves. Who knows?"

Hector gave a deep bow. "Thank you for that information," he said, turned, and went back down the stairs. Ellie muttered her own thanks and rushed after him, intercepting him on the middeck.

"Why are you following me?" she said.

Hector tried to offer a half-grin, but the mess of his face made it look more like a sneer. "I'm not following you."

"So you just happen to get on the same ship, for the same destination, out of coincidence?"

"I owe you no answers. Out of my way, girl."

He moved to go around her, but Ellie threw open her wings, creating the largest barrier she could. "Yes, you do owe me answers. If I understood those sailors right, you've been hanging around that bar for years. What changed?"

"Let me through."

"No."

"You have nice wings, and I wouldn't want to damage them. Let me through."

"No."

This time, Hector backed up a few steps, held out his hands, palms down, and said, "Last chance, then I use magic."

Ellie folded her arms, waiting. Mage or not, combat magic and ships didn't mix well, and he couldn't see this man splintering the masts or lighting the hull on fire over a simple squabble.

An arc of Lightning appeared in his right hand, and Ellie could feel the static building up in the air. She hadn't been hit by lightning before, but her senses were screaming at her to flee. She found herself wavering, and just as she was about to fling herself to the side, the lightning disappeared from Hector's hand with a dull pop.

The older magician looked down at his hand in irritation, and said, "That damn Godwrecker!"

"Now you're blaming the Gods?"

"The Godwrecker damaged more than just the gods," Hector spat. "It damages one's magic too. It's enough that I must embarrass myself like this, let me be!"

"Not until you've answered my question."

Hector scowled and turned away. "Very well," he said. "I've seen enough stupid men and women march to their deaths. It would be irresponsible to send a naïve girl to parlay with the Americans unescorted."

She reached down to her hip and drew a six-inch dagger. Monarchs rarely fought, but it helped to have a means to hunt, and a way to cut oneself free of the occasional errant sail, rope, or netting. "I can handle myself," she said.

The older mage took one look at the knife and laughed. "Have you ever killed anyone with that?"

"I've killed animals with it," she flipped it around her hand into a throwing position. "It can't be that different, can it?"

Hector folded his arms. "Hopefully, you will never need to find out."

Slowly, Ellie folded her wings back into their resting position and stepped aside. "You can follow me if you want, but don't try to convince me out of anything… and keep your hands to yourself."

He gave a mock bow, "Whatever you say, girl."

"My name is Ellie."

"If you insist, girl."

Ellie watched him disappear into the hold below. His answer was a lie. It had to be—he clearly didn't care for her at all, that much was obvious from his willingness to zap her and taunt her, so then why follow her?

He had spoken about his men before… perhaps he was seeking vengeance? But if that was the case, surely there were other boats to Falmart's mainland. Their voyage together could be coincidence, but that struck her as wrong too.

She gave an irritated sigh, shook her head, and went back to the ship's rail. The Night Triangle had vanished over the horizon, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

I wonder if Andromache is still looking for me? Perhaps I'll become an annoying story for the next girl.

She offered up a quick apology to the gods and whichever poor soul was stuck with her mentor's droning, made her way up to the bow of the ship, and looked out across the water. Falmart was out there, somewhere to the West, and her answers waited along with it.