Shifting Tides
"Right then," Thristle said, watching the facility from their precarious position in the maintenance skiff. "Where exactly are we going in this floating disaster? Preferably somewhere far from Hawthorne's other experiments."
Seraphina studied the coastline ahead, her hands steady on the makeshift rudder despite the rough waves. "The Wavechaser. She's still grounded where we left her, and the tide should be rising."
"Assuming we make it there in this thing," Thristle muttered, eyeing the water steadily seeping through the skiff's worn planks. Vesper flowed around their feet, its surface still sparkling with its collected laboratory debris, occasionally forming patterns that looked suspiciously like victory dances. The slime seemed more interested in arranging its new treasures than helping with the leak.
"Stop preening," Thristle told him, watching as it deliberately arranged bits of stolen laboratory equipment into artistic patterns. "Yes, you were very impressive back there. No, you can't keep all of it as souvenirs."
The slime's surface rippled in what was definitely a sulk.
"You can keep some," she amended. "The shinier ones. But leave that massive hatch you absorbed - we need to stay afloat."
"Speaking of floating," Seraphina cut in, "we should move faster. This boat won't last long, and we're probably not the only ones who'll think of the ship."
As if to emphasize her point, another leak sprung near Thristle's feet. Vesper helpfully blocked the incoming water, though its surface patterns suggested it found their predicament entirely too amusing.
Through the morning haze, the Wavechaser's silhouette gradually took shape - her hull listing awkwardly where they'd left her. Waves had already started lapping at her lower side as the tide rose.
"She'll float," Seraphina decided after studying the ship's position. "Though we need to reach her before this vessel decides to join its ancestors on the seabed."
"Um," Thristle pointed toward movement along the shoreline. "We might have company for that reunion."
Massive centipedes emerged from the tree line, their segmented bodies moving with that horrible coordinated purpose they remembered too well. They seemed to have developed their own ideas about dealing with intruders. Vesper surged beneath their failing boat. With a powerful push, it drove them forward through the waves, leaving the clicking horrors behind on the beach. The massive insects scuttled back and forth along the shoreline, antennae waving in frustrated patterns.
"Look!" Thristle pointed to movement further down the coast. "Another boat!"
Through the morning mist, they could make out figures in a small craft - the distinctive uniforms of Wavechaser's crew. Several sailors were rowing frantically, clearly as eager to escape the island as they were.
"Deserters?" Seraphina's voice carried that particular edge of someone who took loyalty very seriously. "The ones who abandoned the group during Hawthorne's trick."
"Can't really blame them," Thristle muttered, watching the other boat cut through waves. "What with all the giant centipedes and mad science. Though they did leave us to die, so there's that."
The sailors had spotted them. One stood up, pointing and shouting something that was lost to the wind. Their rowing became even more frantic - but now they were heading away from the Wavechaser, apparently preferring their chances in the open sea than returning to their ship.
"Cowards," Seraphina muttered, but her attention was already back on their goal. "At least they're not trying to stop us."
"More like trying to get as far from Vesper as possible," Thristle grinned as the slime made a particularly enthusiastic pushing motion. "Can't imagine why."
"Think Hawthorne got away too?" Thristle asked, unable to keep from scanning the shoreline.
"Almost certainly," Seraphina replied grimly. "Men like him always have escape routes planned. But that's a problem for another day. Right now, we need to focus on getting that ship seaworthy."
Vesper pushed on steadily, though its surface still sparkled with all its collected laboratory treasures. The slime seemed determined to keep every single piece it had acquired, no matter how much Thristle suggested lightening the load.
"You're impossible," she told it fondly as another wave rocked their boat. "Just try not to sink us before we reach the ship, yeah?"
The slime's answer was a ripple pattern that somehow managed to convey both smugness and determination as it pushed them closer to their escape. The morning swells grew larger, forcing them to navigate carefully. A particularly massive wave caught them broadside, sending spray over their gunwales. Through the chaos, they heard panicked shouts, deserters' boat struggling against the same conditions. Each swell threatened to swamp their small craft, the sailors frantically bailing water with whatever they could find.
"Help!" Their voices finally carried across the water as they changed course, after when a sea wave nearly capsized them. "Please!"
"Well, well," Seraphina's voice carried ice despite the morning heat. "If it isn't our brave crew."
"We didn't sign up for this!" One sailor - Thristle recognized him as the ship's cook - raised his hands in pleading. "We were crimped in port, woke up on the ship. Hawthorne just said it was a simple transport job. Nothing about giant bugs or that..." He gestured fearfully at Vesper, who rippled with what might have been amusement.
"He might be telling the truth," Thristle whispered to Seraphina. "Remember how he used to sneak extra portions to the younger sailors? He's a good sort, really."
Seraphina's withering look suggested she found Thristle's character assessment skills somewhat lacking. "The same 'good sort' who abandoned us?"
"We panicked!" the cook added quickly, wringing his hands. "But we know these waters. The reefs, the currents. You'll need us to navigate the Wavechaser out, especially if she's damaged."
A particularly large wave hit their failing skiff, sending another spray of water over the gunwale. Vesper absorbed it efficiently, but the boat's creaking suggested it wouldn't last much longer.
"Thirty silver," Seraphina announced suddenly. "Split between you, after we're safely at the next port. And you work under my command."
"Fifty-" the cook started, then caught Seraphina's look. "Thirty is fair. Very fair. But what about..." He glanced nervously at Vesper, who had formed a small tendril to wave at him.
"Our friend stays," Thristle grinned, showing perhaps a few too many sharp teeth. "Though he promises not to dissolve anyone. Probably. If you behave."
Vesper's surface rippled in what was definitely amusement now.
"Deal," the cook decided quickly, clearly realizing it was the best offer they'd get. "But we should hurry"
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"Right," Thristle said brightly as their skiff gave another ominous creak. "Time to see if our lovely Wavechaser still floats. Before we have to test how well Vesper works as a lifeboat."
The slime's surface patterns suggested it found this contingency plan highly entertaining.
"Just remember," Seraphina told the sailors, her hand never far from her rifle. "Any more surprises, and I'll let Thristle use you as test subjects. Clear?"
"Crystal," the cook squeaked, watching as Vesper deliberately formed a small pseudopod just to poke him. "Very, very crystal."
---
The Wavechaser's deck tilted at an awkward angle beneath their feet as they climbed aboard. The ship groaned as the rising tide slowly lifted her from the sandbar, wood protesting but holding.
"Check for damage," Seraphina ordered the sailors, falling easily into command. "You two, secure the rigging. Cook, see what's left in the galley - we'll need supplies."
"What about below decks?" One sailor asked nervously. "Should we check if... anything got in?"
"Vesper and I will handle that," Thristle volunteered, already heading for the hatch. The slime flowed beside her, its surface rippling with patterns that suggested it was quite looking forward to exploring its former prison. The hold still bore marks of Vesper's dramatic escape – broken obsidian, twisted metal, and dissolved patches that would probably give the ship's carpenter nightmares. But the hull seemed sound, and the basic structure had held.
"Missing your old home?" Thristle teased as Vesper investigated its former containment cell with what looked suspiciously like smugness. The slime's answer was to dissolve one of the remaining panels, just because it could. Above, they could hear the sailors working, punctuated by Seraphina's crisp orders. The ship shifted again as the tide lifted her further.
"Sails!" Seraphina's voice carried down. "Get those sails set before-"
A horrible clicking sound from shore cut her off - that same sound that had haunted them through the facility. But this was different, more desperate. Urgent.
Thristle climbed back on deck just in time to see the beach erupt with activity. The smaller centipedes were fleeing from something, their coordinated movements broken by what looked like panic.
"Oh," Thristle said quietly. "Oh, that's not good."
Through the settling dust of the facility's collapse, something massive was moving. Something that should have stayed buried under tons of rubble.
"Is that..." the cook's voice cracked.
"A queen," Thristle confirmed grimly. "And she looks properly annoyed."
The massive queen emerged fully onto the beach, debris cascading from her segmented carapace. She was easily three times the size of her soldiers, her armored segments gleaming with an oily sheen that spoke of careful engineering. Where the others had simple mandibles, her head bore multiple sets of appendages and sensory organs that twitched and writhed with alien purpose.
"Tell me we're ready to sail," Seraphina called from the wheel.
"Almost!" One sailor worked frantically with the rigging. "The tide's lifting us!"
The queen's head suddenly split open like a grotesque flower, revealing rows of specialized glands beneath. With a wet, organic sound, she launched a volley of crystalline spines toward the ship.
"Down!" Thristle grabbed the nearest sailor as bone-white darts whistled overhead. Several embedded themselves in the mainmast with meaty thunks, immediately starting to pulse with a sickly glow. "Don't touch those! They're-"
The wood around the darts began to dissolve, breaking down into organic slurry as the venom worked its way through the grain.
"Oooh, that's horrifying," Thristle muttered, studying the reaction with perhaps more academic interest than the situation warranted. "They've evolved her venom sacs to produce-"
"Less analysis, more action!" Seraphina snapped as another volley forced them to duck. "Unless you'd like to become a very detailed autopsy report!"
The Wavechaser groaned as water finally freed her from the sandbar. Behind them, the queen was already repositioning for another shot, her segmented body coiling with predatory grace. Each movement revealed more bio-engineered horrors - glands pulsing beneath translucent chitin. Vesper flowed up the mast, its mass spreading to cover the dissolving sections. The slime seemed fascinated by the biological projectiles, carefully absorbing them within its mass while impervious to their caustic effects.
"This isn't the time for collecting samples!" Thristle called up.
The slime's surface rippled in what might have been scientific enthusiasm as it stored another dart, though it did at least stop the wood from dissolving further.
"That's it!" One of the sailors called as the sails caught wind. "We're clear!"
The queen reared up, her body segments flexing as specialized organs pulsed beneath her translucent carapace. This volley was different - the darts trailing viscous strands that stuck to the ship's hull like horrible webbing.
"She's trying to anchor us," Thristle realized. "Vesper!"
The slime didn't need more instruction. It flowed down the hull, dissolving the biological tethers with methodical efficiency. Each contact between Vesper's mass and the queen's bio-weapons created strange reactions - chemical processes that made both substances bubble and change colors.
They could see the queen's mandibles clicking in frustrated patterns as her prey escaped. Her sensory organs writhed with obvious fury as she watched her carefully engineered toxins being neutralized by something she couldn't control.
"Good riddance," the cook muttered.
"Set course for the nearest port," Seraphina ordered, her hands steady on the wheel. "And someone check those mast repairs. I don't fancy finding out what happens when our friend's new biological samples decide to get more... interactive."
Vesper's surface churned with patterns that suggested it found this possibility fascinating rather than concerning. The slime had carefully segregated each captured dart in its own pocket, clearly intending to study them at its leisure.
"You're impossible," Thristle told it fondly, watching it arrange its latest specimens. "Though I suppose you've earned some research materials. Just try not to accidentally breed anything worse than what we just escaped?"
The slime's answer was a ripple pattern that promised nothing whatsoever.
---
The first day at sea established new rhythms - sailors working to keep the damaged Wavechaser on course, Seraphina maintaining order, sometimes with rifle-backed authority, and Vesper... well, being Vesper. As they put distance between themselves and the island, something subtle shifted in the slime's behavior. It had always shown signs of intelligence, but recent victories seemed to have awakened something more... playful.
The slime had taken to appearing suddenly beside unsuspecting crew members, forming little waves to ripple their feet or poking them with tiny tendrils. The cook nearly dropped an entire pot of stew when Vesper materialized next to him, helpfully offering to "taste test" by absorbing half the ladle.
"Stop terrorizing the crew," Thristle scolded, though her grin suggested she found it more amusing than concerning. "They're jumpy enough already."
Vesper's response was to flow around her ankles, leaving a trail of slime that made her next step decidedly squelchy. When she glared, its surface rippled with what was definitely laughter.
"Here," she held out a honey drop on her palm. "Maybe this will keep you occupied."
The slime formed an enthusiastic pseudopod, snatching the treat with deliberate messiness. Sticky residue coated Thristle's entire hand, dripping onto her sleeve.
"Really?" She started to wipe her hand on her trousers, then felt Seraphina's disapproving stare from the wheel. The maid's raised eyebrow spoke volumes about proper behavior and setting examples.
"Fine," Thristle muttered, reaching for a proper handkerchief. "Though I don't see why-"
She stopped mid-sentence, watching as Vesper flowed toward Seraphina. The maid held out a dried fruit, and the slime... transformed. Its usual enthusiastic grabbing became almost delicate, forming a perfectly controlled tendril that lifted the treat without leaving a trace of residue.
"Thank you, Vesper," Seraphina said primly, and was that a hint of smugness in her voice?
"Oh, come on!" Thristle threw up her still-sticky hands. "That's just not fair! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
Vesper's internal motes danced with innocent patterns that fooled absolutely no one.
"Proper behavior gets proper responses," Seraphina noted, her lips twitching slightly. "Something about respect being earned..."
"Traitor," Thristle told Vesper. "After everything we've been through, you're choosing her side?"
The slime's answer was to move in a way that suggested it was considering all its options, though the way it kept leaning between their direction had a distinctly mischievous quality.
"Don't you dare-" Thristle started, but it was too late. Vesper surged towards Thristle with that terrible fluid grace, its mass enveloping her with the same efficiency it had shown consuming their enemies. The pressure was carefully controlled - a reminder of power held in check rather than simple affection. Vesper wrapped around her in what might have been meant as a hug but felt more like being swallowed by a very affectionate pudding. When it released her, she was somehow completely clean - and completely ruffled.
"Irredeemable," Seraphina failed to hide her amusement. "Both of you. Absolutely irredeemable."
From his hiding spot in the galley doorway, the cook watched this exchange with a mixture of terror and fascination. "Is it... always like this?" he asked one of his fellow sailors.
"Apparently," the sailor replied, watching Vesper now attempt to straighten Thristle's collar while she swatted at it ineffectively. "Though I'm starting to think we got the better end of the deal. Better that slime than whatever else was on that island."
Vesper, hearing this, turned to wave at them cheerfully. Both men ducked back into the galley with remarkable speed.
"Stop tormenting the crew," Seraphina called, though her voice carried more warmth than warning. "We need them functional."
"Betrayed by my slime. I've lost all authority here, haven't I?" Thristle asked as Vesper.
His only response was to form a small tendril and pat her head in what might have been a consolation. Or possibly mockery. With Vesper, it was getting harder to tell.
---
I have weird writing habits:
I finished this chapter today. Chapter 20 draft is done, but it had two versions. Chapter 21 has a story plan. Chapters 22,23 and ~28 are written in half.
