Chéri

Ch.8: Dinner

Jackson's eyes adjusted to the yellow light streaming in from the window. The storm had long ago subsided, and the Marauder's Mistress was now on calmer waters.

"How was your caulk?" asked Leigh, putting on boots and a bandelier from across the room.

"Sorry?" asked Jackson, squinting in the bright morning light.

"Your caulk, y'know like a nap?"

"Oh, yes, um, it was good," shrugged Jackson.

Leigh smirked. "What did you think I said?"

Jackson blushed a little. The Captain's word choice had to be intentional.

"C'mon, get dressed. The day's about to begin. And you have a proper job now."

Jackson hadn't really felt integral to the ship's operation until recently. He didn't know much about sailing, and everyone was better at everything than him. But alchemy, that was something he could do.

Leigh threw open the doors to her cabin and marched out onto the deck. After pulling on his boots and overshirt, Jackson was out right after her.

It was still early, and only some of the crew had yet amassed on the upper deck. It was cool out and there was a light rain settling down upon the boat, clouding the air with salt and precipitation. As soon as Jackson had stumbled out of the Captain's quarters, Amelia gave him the wryest smile he had ever seen.

"Stay for a sleepover. did ya kid?"

Jackson went red. "No, um, I was just tired, you see, and she let me-"

"Sure mate, whatever you say," Amelia said with a wink.

The Captain addressed the crew and started giving some preliminary orders. She barked in a half-dozen separate languages before turning back to Amelia and Jackson.

"Boatswain, I want accurate tallies of all the wares we'll be unloading once in Havana. I'll not have the Spaniards cheating me on prices."

"Aye aye, Captain," said Amelia.

"And Jackson, continue your good work on the equation."

"Yes, Captain," he said with a salute.

Leigh rolled her eyes. Maybe the salute was too much, thought Jackson.

The three went their separate ways and Jackson rushed down to the cargo hold. Kingsley was already there, passed out on his desk.

Jackson prodded the Quartermaster.

Kingsley bolted awake. "What's happening?" he asked in a frenzy.

"It's alright, it's just me," said Jackson, putting his hands up.

Kingsley looked up at him with bleary eyes. He blinked a couple times before sitting upright and then fixing his wrinkled shirt.

"How late did you stay up?" asked Jackson.

"That's not important. What's important is that I made progress."

Kingsley grabbed up a stack of parchment at least a foot tall and flourished it at Jackson.

"I made some changes, namely around lines fifty-two and fifty-three. I think I've expanded the scope of the equation."

"How so?" asked Jackson.

"Well, I got to thinking. With a name like 'Infinity,' you'd expect more than just gold, right?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow.