Between

Chapter Thirteen

Far Southwest of the Kinnarr Ice Barrier, Great Northern Ocean

The low moan of a foghorn broke through the blinding white of the snow. J'taka Den-Keerta, his great body racked by another round of violent shivering, moved the sail back from over his head and peered weakly into the squall. The sound came again, closer this time. As his eyes strained to focus, a form gradually emerged.

It was a ship!

He threw the rest of the sail aside, staggering to his feet on wobbling legs. Fumbling with the utility belt he had somehow retained around his waist for the duration of his ordeal, he found a flare gun and managed to pull the trigger. Beak open and gasping, J'taka watched the glaring, smoking red signal rise and fall.

The hulking mass of steel was clearly a ship from one of the southern continents—a human vessel—but he didn't care. If they saw him, if they could find a way to get him aboard, he would live. If they didn't see him, they would doubtless strike the raft, but if they did, a quick death would be much preferred to the alternatives.

The foghorn blasted a third time, and J'taka saw the great ship's bow abruptly drop lower in the water and the forward wake change. A groan sounded from somewhere at the rear of the ship and J'taka sagged to his knees in relief when he realized the engines had been thrown into reverse in an effort to stop the vessel.

In a display of agility that seemed impossible for its bulk, J'taka watched the ship pitch away from his raft. It continued past him for another thousand or so wings and then, at last, came to a stop.

It didn't take long before a smaller raft appeared over the side of the ship. J'taka could see several humans bustling around in the craft and after another short while, it had been lowered into the water below.

As they came alongside, he recognized the badges flashing on the shoulders and chests of the uniforms. It was the symbol of the human Union of Corzibar, a continent with whom J'taka knew the Kinnarr held a long-standing but precarious relationship. Corzibar had never outright threatened the Kinnarr to his knowledge, but in recent years their vessels had crossed paths with J'taka on several occasions. Fishing outside the barrier had been discouraged because of the increase in activity, but J'taka's livelihood consisted of trading in less common species of sea creatures—most of which were found beyond the barrier.

"Grab hold of the line!"

The voice of a soldier, his white uniform difficult to see in the snow, snapped J'taka out of his haze. A heavy rope seemingly flung from nowhere landed in his saturated raft and coiled over the scales of his clawed feet. He took it in his hands and pulled, tugging himself and his raft towards his rescuers. In the harsh north, the waves were intense even in the calmest seas.

Two uniformed Directorate sailors dragged him onto the larger craft while two others held the boats together long enough to allow the transfer to happen. He tried not to cry out as his broken wing was bent and pummeled by the sailors, deciding the pain was preferential to not being rescued at all. Once they had him aboard, the others released the life raft while one of the first sailors revved the rescue craft's engine and sent it towards the parent ship.

J'taka stared upward as they approached the stern. The vessel was so tall that its upper decks seemed to melt into and become a part of the swirling white snow. As they came alongside, a gust of wind cleared enough of the snow for J'taka to read the spaced-out, rusted lettering of the ship's human designation: CCL KOROKOA.