Chapter 7: Bjorn’s Insolence

The ship’s stern consisted of four decks, each smaller than the one beneath it. Bjorn caught up with his father on the third, in a meeting room attached to the captain’s cabin.

“Why so many marines?” Bjorn stood in the center of a crescent-moon perch curved along the left bulkhead of the berthing. Mind-links protruded from outlets along the overhead timbers, and his father perched on an elevated circular vine. Hykin waited to the right wearing a smirk that cut into Bjorn’s pride.

“Protection. son,” The Captain said. “The Walkers have an unpredictable nature that sometimes leads to unprovoked attacks. Life in the Below degrades the mind.”

“I thought we had a good relationship with certain locals,” Bjorn said, his gaze flashing toward Hykin. The journey to the ship’s bridge had been a trip to make a trip, and the delay had humored the old guard to no end. Bjorn wanted to let him know that fold-setters in the likes of a dried-up merchant mariner would do wise to measure personal behavior when dealing with the captain’s only child.

“They fear us,” his father said. “Greed is in their nature. If we don’t take precautions, they see weakness and would attack if given the opportunity.”

Although not satisfied with the answer, Bjorn nodded in affirmation. Unlike some airbornes, he knew how to behave in the presence of authority.

“We’re ready to dock.” The Captain dropped from his perch. At the open door of his cabin, he stopped and turned. “Son. You must observe, not participate. Stay on the ship and watch the proceedings from the lower deck. These two will stay by your side.” He signaled for two waiting guards to remain near Bjorn. He and Hykin then left the chamber.

One of Bjorn’s chaperons was lean but with a glint in his eyes and a twist in his somewhat ragged snout that suggested a fearsome capacity for violence. The other was muscular, his alar thorn patch budging and his stinging spine thicker than Bjorn’s pelvic fin. Twister and Stinger, Bjorn decided; that would be their names.

Each one carried a machine-manufactured taser rod and an accompanying mini charging pack. A sharp point protruded from one end, but high voltage death resided in the butt end. Both guards wore white HB-cloaks with an up-turned blue crescent edging the bottom just below the ‘MAir' emblem designating their authority.

Heaving against the low atmospheric pressure, Bjorn followed his father through the hatches until he reached the deck and then walked portside to better view the docking. Twister and Stinger trail at a reasonable distance. The ship landed on a water body beneath a waterfall from a river-fed pond. Both the upper and the lower lakes were many times larger than any pool Bjorn had ever seen. Overhead, white birds with broad wings and long beaks lingered above the waterfall. And then, even as Bjorn watched, one of the birds pulled its wings close to its body, stretched its beak, and speared through the air, diving into the lower waters. Moments later, it surfaced with a small fluttering fish locked in its beak as it flew into the north. “Déjà vu,” Bjorn whispered without knowing why.

Walkers clad in animal skins and covered in dirt gathered around the docking point. They were beast-like, these surface dwellers, with hoofed lower limbs and bodies covered in fur. Caps crowned with ram horns protected their barrel-shaped heads. Although long and punctuated by a few odd points, their facial features were similar to those of Cloud citizens. Historical records identified this group as part of the satyr forest species.

Portside to shore, a hide-away platform slid from the lower deck. Surrounded by armed marines front and rear, Bjorn’s father marched across the platform. As he drew near, the Walkers took a knee and bowed their heads.

In the speech of the surface dwellers, the captain addressed them with loud authority. An older Walker near the front rose and stepped toward the captain. He leaned on a wooden stick that could’ve served just as well for jabbing or striking. How Bjorn understood the Walker to be male remained a mystery for another time. Perhaps, it was something familiar in body odors.

They exchanged a few words, the captain and the Walker, but the volume of the conversation stayed low. Bjorn couldn’t discern content. Then, without turning, the old surface dweller stepped back and away until he once more joined his people.

A discussion between Walkers followed. Some rose to their hoofs and then took charge of moving oxen pulled carts toward the landing zone. Others from outside the initial group joined in. A wooden crane stationed on the third deck lowered a loaded platform to the dock, and the surface dwellers started exchanging metals, lumber, and cotton for crates of garments, air filters, and fermented Cloud dew.

Upon first landing, a few morning shadows still covered the land. Sunrise for surface dwellers came later than sunrise for Airbornes. But as he watched, the blaze broke into a full surface-world event. Brilliant colors shimmered across the water, and heat came as a sidekick. How, Bjorn thought, do these beings endure so great an unhindered furnace?

Yet the Walkers continued their labors, working for hours although sometimes taking turns to rest as necessary. Bjorn remained on the ship in obedience to instructions, even after the crew ventured to shore and shaded beneath the trees near the waterfall's edge. The evergreens towered like branches from Mother Tree but different. They lacked the fullness of flesh, presence of awareness, and the invigoration of a single mind. Bjorn longed to experience the mysteries within that dark canopy of vegetation.

In time, a striker brought him a pogey bait of buttered snails and clam juice. A great treat to enjoy from a perch on the upper deck, he thought. But as he climbed high and above all shadows on the ship, he came to a shark realization. Unhindered sunlight was unbearable for him, even within the protection of HB technology. He would die if he lingered long beneath such an overwhelming open blaze. In a camp high up and away from the core action, Walkers congregated beneath a spray of water mist coming out of tubes snaking out of the upper lake. A few of the guards also joined the fun, their shouts a beacon for the lonely.

Without warning, Bjorn leaped over the deck rails.

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