Swamped

Just as you're getting ready to answer, you realize he isn't there.

No one's there. The crowd of sailors cleaning up is gone. You're just alone on this ship.

Alone except for... a strange shape at the far end of the deck. It's vaguely human, but something's off... And now that's gone, too.

Then, suddenly, you're staring the wizard in the face.

"Well," you say, "I think I might be having hallucinations. Just now, I couldn't see anyone at all."

"Hallucinations? If you were seeing things because of a spell, that would be light magic. The spell I cast on you is mainly earth, it shouldn't cause hallucinations." He looks thoughtful. "Not on its own, anyway... you did mention something about gas earlier?"

"Yeah, uh... Donnie said it was glaxin or something? Why, you think that matters?"

"I suppose if there's still traces of it in your body, the spell might have affected how it flows. Can't say for sure. Is this the first time this has happened?"

"Um, third. Once just before I passed out, and the second time was when I was looking through the eyepiece up on the mast."

"You didn't mention anything was wrong up there."

"It only lasted a moment. There's a rock formation that looks like a C, for a moment I thought I saw other letters too. I figured I was just tired."

Wiz looks concerned.

"You'd definitely better get to the infirmary, then. You there, sailor!"

The sailor salutes.

"Name's Sally, sir!"

"No surname?"

"No, sir!"

"Well, Sally. Since the cleanup seems to be under control, I'd recommend you escort our poor navigator here to the infirmary."

"I can make it on my own just fine," you protest.

"I'd prefer not to take chances. Can't have you hurting yourself before you even get treated, can we? Meanwhile, I need to speak with the captain."

"Yes, sir," you sigh as he walks off.

"You still look pretty winded," Sally says. "So no rush just yet. Let me know when you're ready to get going."

"Thanks," you say. You don't really like having an escort, but you don't have much say in the matter at this point.

You lean back, trying to relax as best you can. You close your eyes for a minute.

Then, when you open them, you see something strange again.

It's Sally, doing something unusual or suspicious, and she doesn't know you're watching her.

It looks like Sally is dangling upside-down from the rigging. She's facing away. Does she think you can't see her?

Wait. She seems to have noticed something. She turns around...

And she's dead? What?

Then she screams.

A moment later, you're staring at her very much alive and very concerned face.

"What's wrong?"

You don't answer right away, and you must look quite confused, because she feels compelled to clarify.

"You were screaming wildly."

Wait, you were...? But wasn't that her...? Damn, it must be worse than you thought.

"I don't think I'm getting any better right now," you say, after you clear your head enough to speak. "Seeing things again. At this rate it might be best to just hurry to the infirmary."

"Gotcha." She grabs your arm. "Don't think too hard about where you're going, just follow my lead."

You appreciate the help, because you soon have a huge headache. You can't even keep your eyes open most of the time, and when you do, everything looks muddled. You're rapidly losing your grip.

And then, suddenly, you wake up, and find a strange mask on your face.

"...my fault."

Isn't that Donnie's voice?

"Every test indicated there wasn't that much gas still in the system, so I thought it would be safe to let it out naturally. But damn, Chip even mentioned hallucinating to me! I should have known something was wrong."

"I'm not here to listen to your self-pity, Donnie. I'm here because I need to know if I still have a navigator."

That sounds like... the captain?

You try to call out, but find you don't have much of a voice. Does this have something to do with the mask?

"Not for the rest of the day, and I wouldn't wager much on tomorrow. After that, well, we'll see."

"I suppose we can manage for a day and a half. It would help if I could at least check in to talk."

"Well, I'll see how treatment is progressing."

At that point, Donnie walks into view.

"Can you see me?" he asks.

You nod.

"Good. Then you're starting to recover. You were barely lucid when you came here. It seems the glaxin is hallucinogenic after all. What we've done is hook you up to a modified breather mask, which is putting small amounts of another gas in your system. That particular gas neutralizes glaxin, though it'll take about six hours to finish it completely. Until then, I'm afraid you won't be talking much."

You make a vague, frustrated gesture.

"Yes, it's going to be hard to communicate. To help with that, I've left a bell on your bedside table."

You glance over at it and pick it up. It's a nice bell, but you can't say that.

So instead you just ring it. Closest you can get to a "thank you", you suppose.

"It's not perfect, but it should only have to last about six hours. Eating and drinking isn't viable with the mask on either, so I suppose that's going to have to wait. Entertainment... well, we've already been over books. So, hmm, what else might you need..."

Before Donnie can finish that thought, the captain barges in. He looks distinctly unhappy.

"I wanted a straight answer, Donnie. What's taking so long?"

"Sorry. I wanted to assess Chip's condition first. Recovery seems to be going well, but it's still going to be about six hours before that mask can go off. And talking's not an option while it's gone."

"What about writing?"

"Chip only knows how to read Graelandic. Do you know how to read that?"

"No," the Captain admits.

"And neither do I, beyond a small number of common words. So unless you can find someone to interpret, you're going to have to think of questions that can be answered with a bell."

"With a bell? How's that even going to work?"

"I was thinking, ring once for yes, twice for no. Or something like that."

The captain mulls this over for a bit, then suddenly asks you a question you weren't expecting.

Has anyone approached you about joining a mutiny?

"Someone seems to be planning mutiny," he says. "Has anyone tried to get you involved in it?"

You ring the bell twice. You don't like where this is going, though.

"Captain, I have to object," Donnie says. "It's your prerogative to look into a possible mutiny, of course, but Chip here isn't in any shape to contribute to it."

"I'm trying to gauge how serious it is. Sometimes sailors make empty bluster about mutiny just to blow off steam. But the ship's not getting very far in these waters without a navigator." He looks directly at you. "Which means any mutiny worth worrying about would start by seeing if you'd be on board. If they don't, then either it's just talk or they don't have a clue what they're doing."

You don't know if you should respond. All you've got is a bell, after all.

"Well, Captain, I assure you that no one other than you will be coming in to see Chip without my approval," Donnie says. "So you'd probably find it more productive to go sniffing around in other corners for the next six hours rather than poking the poor navigator."

"My apologies, to both of you. I meant it to be a quick question so I could take note of the answer, didn't think about how I might need to explain myself. I'm mainly here because I have to talk about an important matter relating to your charts, Chip."

Whatever could that be?

Some important landmarks have changed and now they're in need of updating

"So far, we've mostly been in well-traveled territory. Trade routes with various islands, mainly, with a few patches of ocean filled in by various exploration attempts. But we're nearing the point where Faron's our only source, and a lot of time has passed since that voyage. Landmarks might have been destroyed by storms, or sunk beneath the waves."

You can't really respond, so you just look blankly ahead as the captain continues.

"So at this point, you're not just making maps for us. You're making maps for the next ship to take on this journey. Remember, we're not just doing this for pleasure. Our sponsor hopes that the Alexandria will be just the first of many ships making voyages between the continents. And that makes your job especially important. Once you've recovered, I want you to emphasize not just figuring out a route, but also tracking changes from the old map. Do I make myself clear?"

You ring the bell once.

"Good. May Pasha grant you a swift recovery."

And with that, the captain leaves. Donnie lets out a sigh of relief.

"I know it's his ship, but he could really stand to learn a bit about leaving others to do their own work." Donnie glances at you. "I was about to mention this before the Captain interrupted, but I left the Graelandic books by your bed. I know you were only interested in the one, but I figured, it's not like you'll have much else to do other than sleep. And it's going to be hard for you to make requests with only that bell. Although, if you do want anything, I'm willing to help you figure out how to communicate what it is."

Hmm. Well, you suppose you should think about if there's anything you want before responding to that.

You can't think of anything, so you just ring the bell twice.

"You don't need anything right now? Fair enough. I'll go and check on Ms. Rebecca, then. But feel free to ring if you need anything, I'll hear it."

Donnie walks off. Looks like all you've got now are these books, only one of which is at all bearable.

Maybe you'll just re-read that one when you hit the end.

---

You're now Sally.

And you're strapping on a breather mask to help with investigating and cleaning out Ms. Rebecca's room. Seems this is what got the navigator in such a poor state. You definitely don't want to get a whiff of that gas, then.

You step in and take a look around. Three sailors are cleaning up dead inside-out bugs, another two are standing by the closet door. Goodness, this place looks awful.

You turn to the two by the door.

"Why are you two just standing around? I thought there was work to do here."

"The door's where the box that started this whole mess is," the shorter and thinner of them explains. "And that means the closet's probably filled with gas by now."

"So what? We've got breather masks, don't we?" you reply.

"Yeah, but glaxin's thick stuff," says the larger sailor. "We may be okay breathing it, but we'll have a tough time seeing anything. And if it fills up the room, it might be hard to get out without any escaping."

"Not to mention, breather masks can fail. The chance may be low, but it's more than I want to take with something this dangerous."

You nod.

"Okay, I think I get it. You're looking for a safe way to get in there. Had any ideas?"

"Donnie's got a neutralizing gas, but he says he doesn't have enough to spare," the big sailor replies. "Needs it in case anyone else gets exposed."

"And I don't suppose we can make more of it?"

"Oh, that's actually not too difficult, I was just explaining that to Billie here. You just have to boil up some onions... well, there's some other stuff too, but it's mainly onions."

"Onions?" you ask, puzzled.

"Yeah, don't really know the science that well, but when you boil 'em up in water, the steam has a bit of onion in it. And it turns out that's real good at clearing up glaxin gas. The catch, though, is that you need a lot of onions. And the cook's not going to be eager to give them up."

"Seems to me you'd want the stove in the room too," the shorter sailor says. You suppose that's Billie.

"Well, that's probably easier than capturing the steam, but it's not actually necessary. Anyhow, the point is, we could make more gas but we'd use up most of our onions. So that's as far as we got for ideas."

"Right," you say. You're not entirely sure you followed that, but you suppose you can try to think of something.

Cut a hole in the wall and try to chimney it out to the ocean?

Yeah, open a porthole or create a new one. Is this an interior cabin? If it's not against the outer hull you'll need a way to pipe the gas outta here.

"What if we made a hole in the door, and had some piping to carry it to the nearest porthole?"

The big sailor looks thoughtful.

"Problem there is that we've got gas outside. Which means the crew out on deck is at risk. Can't exactly predict where that stuff will spread."

"Seems like a better idea than boiling up onions to me, though," Billie says. "Maybe if we had a big, thick bag to hold the smoke in we could make it work. How's that sound to you, Lex?"

The big sailor starts nodding.

"Yeah... well, I don't know how much smoke we'd need to hold, but it shouldn't be a problem if we have the bag out the porthole. Okay, this is a decent start."

He starts pacing around.

"Looks like we need... about twelve feet of piping? And the bag... well, it just has to have as much space in the closet. We'll need to check the floor plans for that... 'course, we also need material. Hmm, and it would be good if we had some way to see into the closet so we can tell if it's working..."

"Seems to me the easiest way to do that is to ask the wizard," you say.

"I already asked him for help, since I figured he could probably magic away the smoke," Billie says, somewhat annoyed. "Apparently he can't spare the time."

"Well, we've already got to make a hole for the pipe without letting any gas out," Lex muses. "Could put in some glass the same way. We should see if the carpenter knows how to do that. He ought to have access to the ship's plans, too."

"Okay, so we need piping, we need a large bag, and we need to see the carpenter," you conclude. "There's three of us, so it probably makes the most sense to split up. Who's doing what, then?"

Well all that stuff is probably coming from the galley, so someone can check on the onion situation while they're there. Maybe the cook will take more kindly to losing a few onions than to losing a bunch of stove pipe and watertight burlap.

"You know, we could ask about the onions," Billie notes. "I mean, the cook's not going to like it, but, where are we using pipes other than the stove? Seems they'd be less happy about dismantling the stove and raiding the spare parts store, assuming that even gets us enough."

"Suppose I'd best bring it up," Lex says. "I mean, if we do end up using the pipes, we'll still probably want to cook up some onion to clear them out. And I don't think either of you understand it well enough to explain it."

You can't speak for Billie, but for your part you have to agree.

"Come to think of it, the cook's probably our best source for the bag, too. Most of the food's kept in big, waterproof sacks, isn't it?" you muse. "I'll go with you and help carry stuff if it's needed. Billie, you talk to the carpenter in case we still need to go with that plan."

"Works for me," Billie says. "Good luck to you."

You head off with Lex to the galley. It's a relief to get the damned breather mask off. Even carrying it around is a pain. You're glad these aren't something you have to deal with every day.

Hmm? There's a lot of sailors at the galley, but it's not a scheduled mealtime. What's all the ruckus about?

Birthday!

Is some kind of meeting among the non-commissioned crew. Whatever it is, they don't want you listening in until you've proven you can be trusted.

You're just about to ask when a particularly large sailor - even bigger than Lex - steps over to you.

"You got an invitation?" he asks, almost as an accusation.

"An invitation? To what? I'm here to talk with the cook," you say.

"So you're not here for Lou's birthday party, then? In that case, get out. The cook's going to be real busy for a little while anyhow."

He shoves the two of you out the door without waiting for any further answer.

"The hells was that about?" Lex asks. "And how's Lou got this many people for a party, he barely has any friends."

You signal him to be quiet, and lead him down another corridor. One where not so many sailors are passing by.

"I don't think this is an actual birthday party," you say. "I think that's just a cover story. This is actually some sort of meeting, and they don't want anyone around they can't trust. The invitations are how they know who's in the group and who's not."

Lex frowns.

"A meeting about what, though? Are they planning a mutiny?"

"Maybe, but the galley seems a strangely public place to be doing that. It'd be hard to tell the captain to leave just because he hasn't got an invitation, after all."

Lex thinks for a bit.

"It's not so weird if they're just about to act. Gathering their forces together before striking. In that case, it doesn't matter if the captain comes barging in, because then they've got him."

"That's a point. They didn't seem particularly hurried, though. Or armed, for that matter."

"Yeah, but now I'm real worried about whatever it is they're doing in there. Plus we can't really talk to the cook if they won't let us in. So maybe we should try to find out what's going on."

He raises a good point. But how can you go about that?

Try eavesdropping creatively? Is there any kind of ventilation system used in the ship, or tubes through which orders can be given from the bridge? Does the galley have a dumb waiter?

You try to think about what you know about other ways into the galley.

The actual kitchen has a separate entrance, but the cook keeps that locked.

There's gaps under the floorboards, but you're too big to squeeze into them. Maybe a grebling could manage it, but there's hardly any of them in the crew. Mostly they handle the rigging, since they're the best climbers. Regardless, you don't know any of them very well, so that doesn't seem too promising.

Well, you don't need to get in; you just need to be able to listen. For that, a hole in the wall would probably be good enough... but it would be hard to make one without being noticed. If there were one already, that would be another matter...

Wait. The bells. The officers all have a bunch of bells they use to contact each other. You don't know the details, but you've seen them, and they have strings that go into the walls. Probably the strings go through the whole ship.

Would you really be able to listen in through the holes the strings go through? That seems a bit unlikely. It'd be a way to get the cook's attention, though... and maybe you could slip into the kitchen when they left.

You share your musings with Lex.

"That sounds good, but two problems. First off, we'd have to ring somebody else's bell to get the cook to come. Which means trouble if we're caught."

"The navigator's going to be in the infirmary for a while. That's probably the safest option; the cook probably hasn't heard yet, so won't think anything's up."

"Okay, that sounds workable," Lex agrees. "But problem two: if the cook's in on whatever's happening, then that door's likely under guard. In which case it'd be no better than going in the main entrance."

So you're going to need a plan to deal with that. You give it some thought.

Unfortunately, you don't get a lot of ideas. So your best bet is to get some more information.

"Let's start by taking a look over by the kitchen door. We can see if they've got anyone watching it, for a start. And if they don't, we can try knocking on it to get the cook's attention. We've even got a perfectly good reason to ask some questions, so maybe we can get a peek inside while we're talking."

"Seems good to me," Lex agrees. "I'll do the talking and you keep an eye out."

You walk over to the kitchen door. As it turns out, there's a sailor standing guard.

But not just any sailor. It's Colleen. You've had plenty of shifts with her, and they were usually slow enough that you had time to talk. So you know her fairly well. That means you might have a chance to talk your way past.

"Colleen!" you say excitedly. "Been a while, hasn't it? Did you finish that poem you were working on yet?"

"Nah," she grumbles. "Been busier than I expected. People keep asking me for help with these little things, and I can never bring myself to say no."

"Is that why you're standing here, then? Doing someone a favor?"

"Something like that," she says noncommitally. "Ain't you got any work to do, Sally?"

"Actually, yeah," Lex cuts in. "That's why we're here. We need to talk to the cook to get our job done, but they won't let us into the galley."

"Well, the cook's real busy. You'd probably be better off waiting for Lou's party to finish. Shouldn't be more than a couple of hours."

Hmm. She's friendly enough, but she's not very helpful. Maybe you need to adjust your approach a little bit.

Maybe she could relay a message to the cook for you, regarding the materials you need. You can watch the door for her while she's in there. (and that's when one of you slips inside)

"This is a cleaning job. We'd really like to get it done sooner rather than later, before the mess gets worse. Can you at least pass a message along to the cook?" you ask.

She looks skeptical.

"I don't know, but I guess I can try. What is it you need?"

"Well, we've got two plans," Lex says. "One involves cooking up a lot of onions, the other involves about three feet of piping and a large bag, like the ones used in foot storage. We'll leave it up to the cook which of those they'd rather sacrifice."

"Hold on. Onions?" Colleen asks. "What the hells are you trying to clean up, glaxin gas?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," you say. She seems surprised.

"Glaxin? On a boat, this far from shore? How would it even get there?"

"We don't know. We're hoping we might find some clues to that after we clean it up," you reply. "Are you going to talk to the cook or not?"

"If I can," she mutters. She knocks on the door. "See, they didn't give me keys, just put me on watch. So it's basically a matter of if the cook answers..."

The door opens, but the face glaring at you from the other side isn't the cook's.

"Who are you?" you ask.

"I don't got time for introductions," they growl back before glancing at Colleen. "You! Why are you letting these two linger around?"

"They've got a tough cleaning job and apparently they need to pass a message on to the cook about it," Colleen replies. "Speaking of which, where is the cook?"

"Busy. Preparin' something special for good ol' Lou. So that message is just gonna have to wait..."

"No," Colleen says. "They're cleaning up glaxin gas. We can't afford to leave that stuff around. Go fetch the cook."

"What? Now listen here, you don't get to order me around..."

"I don't, but the captain does, and I don't think he'll be very happy to hear that a sailor was interfering with an effort to remove a dangerous substance from the ship."

The sailor doesn't look happy, but he's not fighting back.

"Fine. I'll pass the message along. But don't get your hopes up."

You're grateful to Colleen; that little argument meant the sailor didn't notice you trying to glance past him into the kitchen. And you noticed something particularly strange.

Say, was that sailor holding something suspicious?

It sure seemed to be squirming a lot!

The funny thing is, you almost missed it. You were so focused on searching for something in the kitchen that you didn't think to look at the sailor himself. But you're glancing at him now, as he's shutting the door, and you notice that he's keeping one arm behind his back.

He's holding something there, and he seems to be struggling to keep his arm still. Perhaps it's something unwieldy.

Could it be a weapon? That might be why he'd be unwilling to drop it.

Maybe you can stall him and try to get a better look.

"Hold on. There's just one more thing," you say. You aren't sure what that "one more thing is" yet, but it'll hopefully keep him talking just a little longer.

He looks really annoyed when you say that.

"I don't care what your 'one more thing' is. I wasn't even supposed to do this much."

He looks about ready to slam the door on you. But you still haven't figured out what he's hiding. You've got to think of a way to keep the conversation going until you can.

His shoe is unbuttoned, maybe you can slowly point that out to him.