Thistle in the Sky | #NONC2022 | ✔

Chapter Nine

Farah had shut out the minds of the Ariomma's crew for a moment of peace over the last hour, but she was starting to regret it. Many of them were too far away to read clearly right now, and those who were closer presented a variety of emotional textures that ranged from the ship mechanic's hyperfixation to Gemi's intense anxiety. Baskoro would give the most concise and complete explanation of Arief's disappearance, but that was only if he answered at all.

Surprisingly—no doubt strategically—he did. "Cahya was meant to relieve Arief on watch at the turn of the hour. When she went to his post, she found him absent. His safety rope was severed. He did not take off his harness."

Kaz's hand found Farah's and gripped it tightly. He looked more stunned than she was. If Arief was gone, he was gone. They could circle back, but the chances of finding him on flat water would have been low enough. Out here in the Tideless, they were slim to none. And if he'd been taken...

"Did you observe any large creatures while you were up there?" said Baskoro. This question too was strategic, and he continued to watch her closely for any falsehood. "Or swarms of potentially dangerous ones?"

Farah bit back a more obstructive answer. "The only swarms I've seen were the jellyfish. No large creatures."

"Nothing that could tangle a person?"

"Was the rope snapped, or cut?"

"That was not my question," said Baskoro, but this time, his mind answered for him. Snapped.

Farah's jaw clenched. Few things in the Tideless had the strength to snap a rope that, if Baskoro's own inspections were to be trusted, had been in perfect condition prior to its use. The Ariomma's first mate never entrusted anyone except Jhaṛa with ensuring the Ariomma's safety equipment was up to standard. Farah suspected the ship had seen sabotage before.

Baskoro's thoughts refuted any evidence of that having happened this time. He'd already inspected the snapped rope and found no signs of prior damage. Whatever had taken Arief had done so by force alone.

Unless the rope was made to look untampered with.

Farah gritted her teeth as the first mate cautioned himself against his own conclusions. He was holding wide the possibility that she had murdered the watchman. She didn't even hold a grudge against Arief. He had been one of the more benign crew members: more like Kaz than Jhaṛa, quick to smile and quicker to try to deescalate an argument than to enter it. She didn't know anyone on the ship who would have it out for him. Certainly not to the extent of murder.

"What if it's whoever destroyed the Verulux?" whispered Kaz, squeezing Farah's hand.

Farah squeezed back, but not just because he was right. Another crew member was approaching. Farah slid to her feet and put herself between Kaz and the door as Esfandiar strode in with angry suspicion painted into every inch of his body language.

"I have it handled," said Baskoro. His tone stopped Esfandiar dead in his tracks and arrested whatever tirade he'd been about to turn on Farah. Baskoro didn't even look at him. He didn't remove his eyes from Farah at all. "Leave. You're needed elsewhere."

"That one could be dangerous," growled Esfandiar. "What if I'm needed here?"

Kaz grabbed Farah's wrist as she reached for her knife. "Don't," he hissed. "He'll use it against you."

"He can try."

"Fafa." Kaz tugged her arm, distressed. "Please."

"See?" said Esfandiar, fixing them both with a glare.