Hanar's long black hair blew to one side as stood near the bow of the Triplet, a trimaran, and the fastest boat in the Delta. Three turns and not a sign of the woman or her damn shuttle, Hanar thought with rising frustration.  

     As the Triplet rounded a promontory Hanar glanced hopefully at the mouth of the Koyo River. This would be a good spot to land the damn shuttle. Food, water, and protected from the high surf. Hanar turned and glanced suspiciously at Opmo and the diminutive man at the helm. That runt is supposed be the best sailor on Iuama. Original colonist. Arrived with my father. Came to this world because of the oceans. Funny name Orld Ting. Probably could tell a few tales about the first few years here on Iuama. Too bad he's a mute. At least he can hear. Hanar cupped his hands to his mouth. “Drop anchor here!” 

     Orld Ting, captain of the Triplet, bowed subserviently and steered the bow of his boat into the wind. His two crew members hurried forward and pulled in the jib and spinnaker sails. Ting looked at Opmo and gestured to the mast. Immediately, Opmo joined him mid-ships. Silently they pulled down the main sail. “Go below,” Ting whispered through parted lips as they tied the last of the sail over the boom. 

     Near the stern, Tyree watched Opmo cross the deck and disappear down the steps to the galley. 

Little wajike is quite the sailor I have to admit. Tyree flicked her red braid over her shoulder and drew Rake aside, “Watch Captain Ting. That tomba pretends to be mute.  I think he is lying. Maybe before our little voyage is over . . . I’ll take his tongue just in case he's faking.”

     “I'll be happy to help.” Rake grinned. 

     “Of course you would,” Tyree patted Rake's shoulder.  “And watch the little wajike. She’s sneaky.” Tyree brought a finger to her chin in thought. “Think I’ll give her to Rechat when we get back to Lakal. He likes young girls.”

     “Yes, he does.” Rake cackled. “And little boys.” 

      “Are you coming, Sis?” Hanar called as he climbed over the side into one of the Triplet's dinghies. 

      Tyree spat on the deck and turned to Rake. “My dear sibling calls me 'Sis' to annoy me . . .

I'm going to teach him not to do that.”

     “I'd like to help.” 

     Tyree gave Rake a quick peck on the cheek. “Of course you would.” Tyree stepped to the leeward side of the trimaran. 

     Hanar offered a helping hand as Tyree descended the woven Tineke ladder. She pushed his hand aside and climbed into the dingy.   

     While Rake and several other members of Hanar’s entourage watched the dingy bounce through the surf and up the Koyo River; Captain Ting deftly slipped through a forward hatch, raced up a narrow corridor, and tapped rat-tat-tat/rat-tat-tat on the louvered door of the V-berth.

     “Uncle?”  

     “Aye.”

     Opmo opened the door.  “I hate all of them.”

     “No time for hate, freckle face,” Ting whispered. “We have things to do.” Ting gently ran his over one of the waves of her ash blond hair. “Listen, the next time the Witch and her brother go ashore I’ll need you on the anchor line. The rest of us will be dealing with those they leave behind.” Ting removed Opmo’s arms from his waist and looked deep into her eyes. “Now I need your help.  None of those left aboard know how to swim. Let's give them something to think about.”

     “I’m ready.”

     Ting pressed a finger across his lip. “Follow.” 

     Together they hurried down the corridor and dropped through a second hatch into the belly of the middle hull. Ting handed Opmo a mallet, a honed auger, and lifted her by the waist against the hull of the boat. “Hit it.  As close as you can to the waterline.” 

     Opmo looked at her uncle with confusion. 

     “We need a leak.” 

     Opmo grinned and set the auger. She paused as the boat heaved in the waves and then gave the auger a whack. Immediately seawater poured through the hole. Ting boosted himself out of the lower hatch and pulled Opmo up behind him. Ting pointed down the corridor. Opmo ran back to her V-berth. Ting ran up a small staircase to the main deck and straight into the arms of Rake.

     “Where the hell have you been, kundu?” 

     Ting pointed to his mouth and shook his head then mimed water pouring from an imaginary pot into an imaginary cup.  

     For a moment Rake was having none of his antics. But Ting continued to thrash and gesticulate. Rake looked at her two cohorts. “Either of you know what this kundu is about?”

     Ting broke loose from Rake's grip and ran towards the bow. He grabbed three empty buckets and tossed one to each of the others, then mimed bailing water several times.

     “There’s a shenzing leak?” Rake panicked.

     Ting nodded then flew back down the galley staircase with a smug smile. 

     At the edge of the lower hatch, Ting came to a halt. Water spurted into the boat with each list of the trimaran. Ting’s hands moved in a silent blur encouraging Rake or either of the other thugs to climb through the hatch. Both men turned to Rake for direction. Rake snorted, “Captain's first.” And shoved Ting headfirst into the bilge. 

     The ocean continued to spurt through the hole. 

     Ting rose and spit out a mouth full of bilge water. Above the trio laughed. Feigning injury, Ting patiently filled his bucket with water and with exaggerated effort tried to hand it up to Rake. One man knelt and extended his arm. Ting sloshed through the rising water. With great effort, Ting lifted the bucket just out of the man's reach, then dropped it back into the water with a grunt of pain. 

     Rake stared into the bilge with hesitation. 

     Hapless, Ting stood in the middle of the rising water rubbing his shoulder. He gave Rake a pleading look, at the same time, subtly sneaking several items from his sea-vest. Ting placed the palm of his hand over the hole in the hull and looked up at Rake. The boat listed, and water poured around Ting's palm and through his fingers.  

      Rake didn't like making decisions. She liked following orders. But Tyree was gone. . . Rake shoved both men to the edge of the hatch. “Get down there before this shenzing boat goes under!”  

     Both men dropped into the bilge and began passing bucks of water up to Rake. Ting grinned leaned against the hull and watched. Rake was strong, but after ten minutes of tossing heavy buckets of water through a small porthole— even Rake was tired. 

     Convinced the other thugs were spent, Ting pushed a Tineke patch through the hole in the hull, then yanked it back making a seal every Delta sailor learned before they were ever allowed on a boat. 

     It took several minutes before Rake or either of the men realized the water had stopped flowing into the bilge. Ting gave congratulatory slaps on the back to the two men and bowed meekly several times to Rake.  

     “Bale the rest of the water out of there and meet me on deck.” Rake balled her fist, turned and climbed the ladder to the galley. 

     One man climbed out of the bilge and took her place, the other started to dip his pail into the water, then gave Ting an evil snarl. Ting pointed to his shoulder and winced. The man went back to bailing. 

     Ting leaned against the hull and smiled.  

 

     Both moons were up when Hanar, Tyree, and the shore party climbed back on board the Triplet. 

     “Nothing.” Tyree confided to Rake. “I'm starting to doubt she came this way. What's to eat?  Everyone is hungry.” Tyree started toward the galley with Hanar in her wake.   
    Rake coughed and said quietly. “We had some trouble.”

     Hanar and Tyree froze and circled Rake. 

     “What trouble?” Hanar asked. 

     Rake shifted her shoulders trying to create breathing room. She failed.

     Tyree closed tighter. “What trouble?”

     “Soon after you left . . . the boat sprung a leak.”

     Hanar and Tyree exchanged looks of suspicion. 

     “And you had Captain Ting and the little wajike under your watchful eye all the time.”

     Rake backed up against the mast,  “Some of us were watching you navigate the waves. . . In case of an emergency.” 

     “Some of you were watching?” Hanar asked. 

     “But ONE of you always had Ting and the girl under your supervision, didn't you.” Tyree edged closer.  

     Rake stared at the deck. “You don't think it was an accident?”

     Tyree pursued her lips. “Do you enjoy being my . . . Aide . . . Second in  . . . Whatever you are?”

     Reluctantly Rake made eye contact and nodded.

     “Follow my orders or I will find someone who will.” Tyree hissed. 

      Tyree and Hanar turned again to the galley. Tyree took her brother by the arm. “I think our little Captain just sent us a message. If we kill him and his crew, we won't get very far in this shenzi boat.”

     “He's right.”

     “I know. From now on every one of us watches everything each sailor does. It can't be that hard to sail this thing. I say we go as far as the Sling River. . . Nothing there and we return to Lakal. We seem to be going nowhere out here.”

     “Agreed. Maybe Krista did head south.” Hanar looked back over his shoulder.   

     “I'll send a gazbag to Father.”

     “Better you than me,” Hanar said. “He won't like the message.”

     “I know.” 

     “He does not like bad news. And we have nothing to report. I remember the first time Zeta returned from the Labyrinth.”

     Tyree flashed back to their older sister's report. 

      “I remember her screams.” Hanar flinched. 

     “So do I. And she was, by far, father's favorite”

      Tyree looked toward the shore. The moon Dawa was partially eclipsing its larger companion, Chandra. Their combined light reflected off the snow laden tips of the four highest peaks in the Pulat Mountains.  

     “We could be in the wrong place.” Tyree grimaced. “Maybe Krista came from a world of mountains, snow, and ice?”