The Hollow

The Pod

A web of sunlight sped by, cut through at an angle by the burgeoning wake from the Pelican's hull. The undulating white noise created by the ship as it cut through the water would be almost hypnotic and soothing were it not for how awful Nom felt. He leaned over the gunwale, moaning as he stared down the ship's side. He had gotten to know every chip and knot in that section of the hull, every nail, seam of pitch, and stroke of paint, and because of the ocean-going junk's narrow tumblehome, he unfortunately had left his own new textures in the mix.

"Stop staring at the water," Omega called over, in way too cheerful of a tone, thought Nom, but he had already finished this round, and slumped back onto the deck. She smiled and nodded up to indicate the horizon. The sun and wind rippled highlights through her hair as she gazed contententedly into the distance.

At least this is progressing well for one of us, he thought. The previous morning, he felt fine as Qayid's small fleet, dubbed The Pod, had set out through the harbor. The large Pelican seemed sturdy as land, the smaller Petrel behind them glided gracefully, but it was the smallest ship, the Shearwater, that first set Nom on edge as it darted in the distance ahead, changing its pitch and roll as it bounded out of the harbor into the open sea. After that, for a full day everyone told him to look at the horizon, get near the middle of the ship, and Omega's pokey sea-bracelet didn't do a damn thing other than bruise his wrist. His only relief came when he passed out in a hammock below decks near the end of the day.

Ahden and Dev worked busily with the crew. Nom didn't understand all the tasks required to maintain a ship, but he could tell Dev was adept at the technical work. Ahden was mostly assigned light loutish tasks due to his leg, like swabbing the deck, though he also carried his warhammer, on alert for danger. The crew mostly ignored Nom, especially Qayid, which suited him just fine. Nom wasn't eager to discuss their common past. With embarrassingly little to contribute, he decided to try staring at the horizon again. Bravely he stood watch with Omega, looking far ahead at the Shearwater until a flurry of colored movement on that ship rescued him from his queasy charade.

A moment later, a call came down from the crow's nest: "Berm, ho!" The tenor of activity on deck shifted only slightly, and Omega looked excited, but otherwise most people took no notice.

"What do you see?" asked Nom.

"Nothing," said Omega. She lifted her goggles briefly, then shook her head and shrugged.

The first mate, Tanaga, came alongside them to look. He wore his hair in the braided style typical of Endo sailors, and despite his long hours in the sun, looked younger than his years. He had told them at the beginning of the voyage that he was responsible for them aboard the ship, and he was affable, even peaceful and calming, certainly more so than the captain. "Shearwater only just spotted it, and flagged us a signal. It'll be a couple hours before we reach it."

Omega asked him, "Tell us what we'll see."

"I can't vouch for what you'll see," Tanaga nodded to her, "but in the ocean, water on the Berm seems to flow into the Hollow. It looks like rapids, abruptly rushing down the slope of an incredibly wide river, calm up above, calm down below, but these rapids extend in an undulating line to the horizon in each direction." He dramatically moved his hand to each side in turn. "It looks like an unavoidably dangerous patch to surge into. You can't help but brace yourself for the impact, but then, nothing." He glided one hand forward off the other. "You sail smoothly on through." He shrugged, then eased into a smile. His manner was comforting, and Nom took a deep calming breath.

Tanaga picked up on Nom's queasiness, and suggested, "Spread your legs so you feel the motion. Your body is expecting something different than it's experiencing. Don't fight it, help it." Nom gave him an ill look. Tanaga gave him a sympathetic shoulder-squeeze, and said, "I know people are telling you to do all sorts of things, but you'll get your sea legs under you soon. Here, chew on this." He reached in his pocket and pulled out what looked like a glistening strip of a root vegetable. "If nothing else, it will make your trip a bit sweeter."