beneath the surface from his viewpoint. Whatever they had hit, it wasn’t some log floating on the top. He slipped inside to join Amaranthe at the controls.
She stood frozen, staring through the viewport. Several strands of green seaweed stretched across the Science-enhanced glass, as well as a human arm—what remained of it. Fish had been nibbling at it for several days. It drifted away, not to bother them further. Sicarius wondered if the seaweed could become entangled in the rudder and affect the submarine’s steering ability.
“I do not recognize that species,” he observed.
“Of seaweed or arm?”
“Seaweed,” Sicarius said before the sarcasm in her tone registered.
“There are other body parts tangled up in there,” Amaranthe said. “The first thing that hit us was a man’s torso with the head... there were tendrils of that—whatever that is—growing out of the eye sockets.” She released the controls and rubbed her face with both hands. “Talk about an abrupt end to your vacation.”
Sicarius considered her, wondering if this was a time when she would appreciate a hug or other gesture of physical support. She shouldn’t have an emotional attachment to the bodies, unless they later discovered the parts belonged to someone they knew, but she clearly found their appearance distressing. Before he had decided one way or another, she took a deep breath and returned to the controls.
“Let me see if I can steer out of this, or if this whole end of the lake is full of mutilated bodies wrapped in seaweed,” Amaranthe said, her composure regained. “If the latter, then I think Starcrest should have ordered a whole fleet of submarines to help.”
Sicarius waited to see if they would have further trouble steering through the mess, but they soon pushed into clear water again.
“Some random tangle,” Amaranthe said.
“That may be what’s growing out of the water by the waterfront,” Sicarius said. “Though from what I could make out in the dark, some of it seemed quite tall, almost like small trees.”
“Seaweed trees, wonderful.” Amaranthe waved toward the hatchway. “I’m fine. Go direct me to that cove, please.”
Sicarius inclined his head, but paused before heading up the ladder. “For my edification, when you chance across bodies or body parts, is that a time for physical contact of an emotionally bracing nature?”
A faint smile crept across her face. “You mean, should you have hugged me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen enough bodies at this point to get over it on my own, though if you’re inclined, you could put a hand on my shoulder or stand close or something. When you’re looking into the eyes of death, it’s nice to be reminded that you’re not alone.”
“Hm.” Sicarius could not recall ever experiencing that need, but much of his boyhood training had revolved around desensitizing him to death and human emotions. His mentors had considered that training a success; Amaranthe, he suspected, would have another opinion on the matter.
Sicarius climbed up, again crouching on the hull with the hatch at his back. They hadn’t reached the other ships yet, and he doubted anyone out there on the water would be hurling an attack at him, but old habits dictated current actions. He scanned the dark shoreline to the south of the city, its trees, rocky shores, and cliffs. By night, it would be easy to miss that cove, but he had jogged around the lake so many times that he knew the location of every feature along its shore. He guided Amaranthe with confidence.
A hint of orange light appeared through the trees. A lantern? It was part way up a promontory, one that thrust into the lake, its tip a good quarter mile from the trail that circled the body of water. Someone caught out late and walking on the popular route shouldn’t have a reason to deter up that steep, rocky slope, though he did recall that a path led up to the top. Had someone seen the submarine? And been curious enough
She stood frozen, staring through the viewport. Several strands of green seaweed stretched across the Science-enhanced glass, as well as a human arm—what remained of it. Fish had been nibbling at it for several days. It drifted away, not to bother them further. Sicarius wondered if the seaweed could become entangled in the rudder and affect the submarine’s steering ability.
“I do not recognize that species,” he observed.
“Of seaweed or arm?”
“Seaweed,” Sicarius said before the sarcasm in her tone registered.
“There are other body parts tangled up in there,” Amaranthe said. “The first thing that hit us was a man’s torso with the head... there were tendrils of that—whatever that is—growing out of the eye sockets.” She released the controls and rubbed her face with both hands. “Talk about an abrupt end to your vacation.”
Sicarius considered her, wondering if this was a time when she would appreciate a hug or other gesture of physical support. She shouldn’t have an emotional attachment to the bodies, unless they later discovered the parts belonged to someone they knew, but she clearly found their appearance distressing. Before he had decided one way or another, she took a deep breath and returned to the controls.
“Let me see if I can steer out of this, or if this whole end of the lake is full of mutilated bodies wrapped in seaweed,” Amaranthe said, her composure regained. “If the latter, then I think Starcrest should have ordered a whole fleet of submarines to help.”
Sicarius waited to see if they would have further trouble steering through the mess, but they soon pushed into clear water again.
“Some random tangle,” Amaranthe said.
“That may be what’s growing out of the water by the waterfront,” Sicarius said. “Though from what I could make out in the dark, some of it seemed quite tall, almost like small trees.”
“Seaweed trees, wonderful.” Amaranthe waved toward the hatchway. “I’m fine. Go direct me to that cove, please.”
Sicarius inclined his head, but paused before heading up the ladder. “For my edification, when you chance across bodies or body parts, is that a time for physical contact of an emotionally bracing nature?”
A faint smile crept across her face. “You mean, should you have hugged me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen enough bodies at this point to get over it on my own, though if you’re inclined, you could put a hand on my shoulder or stand close or something. When you’re looking into the eyes of death, it’s nice to be reminded that you’re not alone.”
“Hm.” Sicarius could not recall ever experiencing that need, but much of his boyhood training had revolved around desensitizing him to death and human emotions. His mentors had considered that training a success; Amaranthe, he suspected, would have another opinion on the matter.
Sicarius climbed up, again crouching on the hull with the hatch at his back. They hadn’t reached the other ships yet, and he doubted anyone out there on the water would be hurling an attack at him, but old habits dictated current actions. He scanned the dark shoreline to the south of the city, its trees, rocky shores, and cliffs. By night, it would be easy to miss that cove, but he had jogged around the lake so many times that he knew the location of every feature along its shore. He guided Amaranthe with confidence.
A hint of orange light appeared through the trees. A lantern? It was part way up a promontory, one that thrust into the lake, its tip a good quarter mile from the trail that circled the body of water. Someone caught out late and walking on the popular route shouldn’t have a reason to deter up that steep, rocky slope, though he did recall that a path led up to the top. Had someone seen the submarine? And been curious enough
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