Read Online Seaswept (Seabound Chronicles Book 2) by Jordan Rivet - Free Book Online
Authors: Jordan Rivet
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“Ah, here’s the T-7. Will it do?”
“This is exactly
what I need.” Esther measured out a length of the cable. “Do you think the Catalina is in any danger from this
Calderon Group?”
The Amsterdam had always been a hotbed for
privateer types. It was one of the reasons Judith hadn’t wanted to meet up with
them. She didn’t trust anyone outside the Catalina .
“Not likely. You
don’t have much of value, unless your circumstances have changed significantly
since your last docking.” Rachel settled on a stool beside a rack of wrenches.
Esther avoided her
eyes. “No, I guess you’re right.” She was suddenly very conscious of her algae
oil extraction plans scratched in the floor of the bowling alley, not to
mention the completed separator, which had allowed them to sail here without
using up any diesel. Nothing of value indeed.
Esther and Rachel
completed their trade: all the cable she needed in exchange for a leftover
desalination filter that was too small for their own system. Esther said
good-bye to Rachel and promised to come back for another visit before they
sailed. Cally and Dax had wandered off. Mildly irritated, Esther pushed through
the crowd after them. They could get into all kinds of trouble here. There was
no sign of them, and she couldn’t see very far past the rough-clad clientele.
If only she were taller!
“The end of our
tribulation is near!” An old man with red depressions around his eyes stepped
into her path. “Seven times three! The number of completion times the number of
God! Twenty-one years. I found the formula hidden in the ancient words.” He brandished
a warped piece of plywood tacked with disintegrating pages from a Bible. “The
end of our tribulation is near!”
Esther shifted the
coil of cable further up on her shoulder and dodged around the man. People
jostled her, and she pushed toward the edge of the market, where she hoped to
get a better view.
She broke through
the crowd near the passageway leading to the main drill floor and ended up by
the Rusty Nail, a bar catering to the seafarers, crewmen, and nomads who made
their way through the Amsterdam Bazaar.
The bar itself was made of corrugated shipping-container steel in a random
assortment of colors. People used the empty oil barrels arrayed in front of the
bar as drinks tables. Alcohol was expensive, but the Rusty Nail was the perfect
place to gather information. David had chosen this as his theater to share the
news of Esther’s newfound energy source.
She found him
leaning against the bar, surrounded by a rough-looking contingent of traders.
He didn’t acknowledge her when she stopped at the edge of the crowd. He was too
busy orating.
“. . . change our
life as we know it at sea. The owner of this technology could sell the biofuel
or keep it and dominate all the competition. This is worth more than my weight
in oil, if you know what I mean.”
“How do we know
your system will work?” said a bearded man hovering behind David at the bar. He
wore strange earrings that stretched his earlobes so much, a wrench could fit
through the hole.
“Trust me. With my
system you’ll be so prosperous you’ll look back and laugh for ever questioning
me.” David raised his glass to the man. “You don’t want to miss out on this
auction, my friend. This one’s a game changer.”
“Let me buy you a
drink and you can tell me more about how it works.” The man waved a sun-darkened
hand toward the bar. He was missing his ring finger.
“I can’t give away
my secrets before they’re sold, but I will take you up on that drink,” David
said.
Esther shook her
head as David continued to extol the virtues of her energy system to the
growing crowd. She’d be glad when this was all over.
A tall,
copper-haired woman stood near the man with the holes in his ears. Esther did
not like the way she was looking at David. There was something predatory about
her, like a lionfish. The woman leaned in to ask him a question,
“This is exactly
what I need.” Esther measured out a length of the cable. “Do you think the Catalina is in any danger from this
Calderon Group?”
The Amsterdam had always been a hotbed for
privateer types. It was one of the reasons Judith hadn’t wanted to meet up with
them. She didn’t trust anyone outside the Catalina .
“Not likely. You
don’t have much of value, unless your circumstances have changed significantly
since your last docking.” Rachel settled on a stool beside a rack of wrenches.
Esther avoided her
eyes. “No, I guess you’re right.” She was suddenly very conscious of her algae
oil extraction plans scratched in the floor of the bowling alley, not to
mention the completed separator, which had allowed them to sail here without
using up any diesel. Nothing of value indeed.
Esther and Rachel
completed their trade: all the cable she needed in exchange for a leftover
desalination filter that was too small for their own system. Esther said
good-bye to Rachel and promised to come back for another visit before they
sailed. Cally and Dax had wandered off. Mildly irritated, Esther pushed through
the crowd after them. They could get into all kinds of trouble here. There was
no sign of them, and she couldn’t see very far past the rough-clad clientele.
If only she were taller!
“The end of our
tribulation is near!” An old man with red depressions around his eyes stepped
into her path. “Seven times three! The number of completion times the number of
God! Twenty-one years. I found the formula hidden in the ancient words.” He brandished
a warped piece of plywood tacked with disintegrating pages from a Bible. “The
end of our tribulation is near!”
Esther shifted the
coil of cable further up on her shoulder and dodged around the man. People
jostled her, and she pushed toward the edge of the market, where she hoped to
get a better view.
She broke through
the crowd near the passageway leading to the main drill floor and ended up by
the Rusty Nail, a bar catering to the seafarers, crewmen, and nomads who made
their way through the Amsterdam Bazaar.
The bar itself was made of corrugated shipping-container steel in a random
assortment of colors. People used the empty oil barrels arrayed in front of the
bar as drinks tables. Alcohol was expensive, but the Rusty Nail was the perfect
place to gather information. David had chosen this as his theater to share the
news of Esther’s newfound energy source.
She found him
leaning against the bar, surrounded by a rough-looking contingent of traders.
He didn’t acknowledge her when she stopped at the edge of the crowd. He was too
busy orating.
“. . . change our
life as we know it at sea. The owner of this technology could sell the biofuel
or keep it and dominate all the competition. This is worth more than my weight
in oil, if you know what I mean.”
“How do we know
your system will work?” said a bearded man hovering behind David at the bar. He
wore strange earrings that stretched his earlobes so much, a wrench could fit
through the hole.
“Trust me. With my
system you’ll be so prosperous you’ll look back and laugh for ever questioning
me.” David raised his glass to the man. “You don’t want to miss out on this
auction, my friend. This one’s a game changer.”
“Let me buy you a
drink and you can tell me more about how it works.” The man waved a sun-darkened
hand toward the bar. He was missing his ring finger.
“I can’t give away
my secrets before they’re sold, but I will take you up on that drink,” David
said.
Esther shook her
head as David continued to extol the virtues of her energy system to the
growing crowd. She’d be glad when this was all over.
A tall,
copper-haired woman stood near the man with the holes in his ears. Esther did
not like the way she was looking at David. There was something predatory about
her, like a lionfish. The woman leaned in to ask him a question,
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