Chapter 4: the seven sprawling seas

"Look at all this garbage!"

 

The wharf stretches like a cat along the harbour. Water smashes into the rocks; the boats and yachts and dinghies rock in turn. It takes a while for Jackie and Ignorance to make it over the wharf—bits of the boardwalk are rotted, and if Jackie looks down for too long she sees the deep green ocean, gurgling like a baby beneath her feet. White foam drifts like dust upon the waves.

 

Most of the yachts here are also in a state of disrepair, to absolutely no one's surprise. The cargo ship Ignorance had spotted in the distance is what will take them across the ocean. It's a huge steamer with fat pipes and a long, flat runway for shipping containers. It's perfect for little girls who want to sail across the pacific.

 

Bird droppings line the boardwalk on their way to the cargo ship along with various cuts of plumage. The ship towers above the two, a smooth sheet of pure steel cutting through the sky. On the side there is a name written in blocky lettering: S C Clemency. Steps dot the sides like fungi.

 

As Jackie cranes her neck up to observe the ship, she says, “I wonder what this ship’s got on it. Look at all of that stuff, all just… rotting away.”

 

“Cars,” Ignorance responds. “I scent metal within those crates. Large swathes of processed, engineered metal.”

 

Jackie sighs. “Right. You can smell metal. There goes the mystery.”

 

“You inquired. I provided.”

 

“Yeah, but where’s your sense of wonder? The anticipation? 

 

Ignorance snorts, as if amused. “Anticipation begets all knowledge. I merely slaked your curiosity.”

 

But Jackie is already racing up the gangway, her sneakers squeaking against stainless steel. She drags her fingers over the flaking paint, and they come away stained with blue and orange. But the steel underneath remains strong. Strong enough to cleave through oceans and cut through waves.

 

On the deck, the floor is wet with both rain and salt water. Pipes stand taut against the railing, and the windows are polished and clear. Jackie peers through one of them; she sees a made bed, a glass of clean water. The lights are on and golden.

 

Jackie says, “You said there weren’t any people left in this country.”

 

“I said that there was a distinct lack of human life on this landmass.”

 

“Well, there’s your human life.”

 

“No. I am rarely incorrect. There is no human life on this landmass. I would know.”

 

When they enter the room, Jackie’s first instinct is to switch off the lights. She sniffs the air—stale, unlived in. A lick of the water. Fresh. The corners are clean, and though the bedsheets are dusty, they are not as dusty as they should be. 

 

But the most important part: the bed is made, and there is no imprint in the sheets. 

 

The flicker of doubt on Jackie’s features is enough to make Ignorance push her away from the room and back onto the deck. “There are no humans here. Cease hope and continue.”

 

They continue into a carpeted corridor, but Jackie keeps her head on her shoulders. The made bed. The glass of water. Lights line the corridor, swaddling the dotted carpet in dull yellow. Something is keeping the power going, or perhaps they are remnants of the world before the Fall. Maybe during the heat of the heat death someone forgot to turn off the lights.

 

The bridge of the ship unfolds before them, a sprawling network of screens and buttons and panels that once lit and flashed to the whims of a captain. Now they squat against the walls, lifeless, like monkeys in the corner of an exhibit. A six-pronged wheel stands proudly at the center of the room—this, Jackie recognises. She runs up to the wheel and fits her hands around it and gives it a rough spin. She laughs as it blurs into wood and metal. Then she does it again.

 

“I’d stop that, if I were you.”

 

Immediately Ignorance is at Jackie’s side, its hunched body rising to its full height. Jackie’s shock quickly melts into excitement and curiosity. At the door frame is a figure—a human figure, something with two legs and two arms—of average height, though their build is obscured by a high-necked jacket that ends at their knees. A dark biker’s helmet covers their face.

 

Ignorance does not growl, nor does it speak. It only stands in place, still as snow. The lights flicker and black mist creeps up the walls like thousands of scuttling spiders. 

 

The figure makes no move. “Relax. I’m not your enemy, nor do I want to be. We’ve all got our own demons to fight. Drop the mist and we’ll talk.”

 

“What are you,” Ignorance says at last, its voice low and steady. 

 

“Just another anchored soul on this crumbling planet.” The figure attempts to walk towards the wheel—Ignorance bristles visibly. At a loss, the figure says, “The girl needs to get off the wheel. It hasn’t been properly maintained, and it’ll probably snap off if she keeps spinning it like that.”

 

“I’m Jackie,” says Jackie. 

 

“I’ll only say this once more,” says Ignorance. “What are you?”

 

The figure sighs. “My name is Sabine, captain of the S C Clemency. I’m just like you two.” Though the helmet obscures their eyes, they seem to be watching Ignorance for a reaction. “Now are you two exploring, or is there something you actually want?”

 

The air is tense for only a second more before Ignorance wanes, then curls back into its natural hunch. “Of course, my apologies. We merely required a method of transportation to the other landmasses.” It dips its head. “We search for the Catalyst, you see.”

 

Sabine scoffs as they lead the two out of the bridge. White skies soar past the windows. “The Catalyst, now there’s a word I haven’t heard in ages.” They stop and turn into a white room with polished linoleum floors and lines of countertops. 

 

“How do you know about the Catalyst?” Jackie asks.

 

“I know about as much as you two do.” They shrug. “I keep up with demon history.”

 

It is at this moment that Jackie realises Sabine is not entirely human. Though they breathe and speak and fold their hands into their pockets as they walk as a human before the Fall might do, there is something missing from their stature. It is as if Sabine could be holding a severed head and still appear entirely normal. But they are not entirely demon either; there’s a drop of humanity in the way they talk, and a drop of humanity is far more than what Ignorance will ever have.

 

“So you wanted to see if you could sail a ship over four kilometres all by yourselves without any training, is that it?” Sabine continues.

 

“Yeah, that’s the gist of it,” says Jackie. “You just spin the wheel and make the big boat go forward, how hard could it be?”

 

“Very hard,” Sabine says somberly. 

 

“Oh,” Jackie responds. Then she turns to Ignorance. “See, I told you.”

 

"I don't know what kind of wager you two have going on here, but if you want to cross the ocean, I can help with that." Sabine shuffles onto a nearby stool. "I've been maintaing this ship for the past year. She's been itching for a reason to sail the seven seas again. We can head out tomorrow, or anytime you'd like."

 

"You maintain this ship?" asks Ignorance increduously. 

 

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"Yep. I've been mopping the floors, tinkering with the machinery, polishing the pipes and what not for the past year." They shrug. "What can I say? It's hypnotising, and the end of the world is boring anyway. S'not like there's anything better around here that I can do."

 

Ignorance speaks under its breath, "You could assist demonkind in searching for the Catalyst. That would be a much better use of your time."

 

This time, Sabine addresses Jackie. “I told you, I know about the Catalyst as much as you do. Maybe even less, seeing how much your friend here cares about demon history. By the way, help yourself to anything you find in the fridge, I keep it stocked.”

 

“How can that be?” Jackie asks as she swings open the fridge door. Inside are various boxes of cockles, kelp strands, and hand-sized silver fishes that Jackie can’t name. 

 

“It’s the same as reading about politics off the internet and actually being in parliament,” says Sabine. “You… do know what the internet is, right?”

 

“Yeah,” says Jackie. “I’m not that young.”

 

At the same time, Ignorance says, “I’m not aware.”

 

“Ah. Gas is on, by the way.” Sabine nods towards the stovetop. “It’s like if the Catalyst was made by thousands of humans, and anyone could access it in the blink of an eye. A total mountain of knowledge.”

 

Ignorance regards Sabine’s words carefully. “I see… incredible, so the humans have manufactured their own knowledge. We are not so dissimilar after all, it seems.”

 

Jackie turns the dials on the stove, coaxing a blue flame into full burst. She dumps a cube of her own bouillon, kelp, cockles and fish into a pot and sets it to boil.

 

Sabine continues, “Of course, unlike the Catalyst, the internet was incomplete, and at times outright incorrect. There was no Council to sort through all that knowledge—and that trove of information, unmoderated like that… compared to the Catalyst, the internet’s almost useless. An irrelevant dot of regurgitated knowledge.”

 

“Humankind did not have eternity to wade through knowledge as we once did,” Ignorance says, suddenly straightening. “What they attempted was admirable.”

 

“You show a lot of respect for humans, Goat-man.” Sabine watches the stove; blue flames flicker off their mirror visor. “Even though they all died off like flies. Even though they caused their own undoing.”

 

“I respect them because we have done the same, if not worse for our own kind.” Ignorance narrows its eye sockets, its fur clenching around its horns. “You did not participate in the Council. You speak of events that precede what you think you know.”

 

The soup gurgles loudly. The cockles ease open. Sabine says, "Don't lump me in with the rest of you."

 

Jackie wordlessly spoons the kelp soup from the pot into a provided tureen, then into three respective bowls. No one speaks for the remainder of the dinner, and Sabine does not remove their helmet to drink from the bowl. They excuse themselves from the table before Jackie and Ignorance have finished their food.

 

Night falls, the moon rises over the ocean, and the air manages a slight chill. Jackie finds a room above the deck where she can watch the silvery sea from the windowsill. As she lies on the bed, many questions pass her lips. "You said you couldn't feel any human life. What is Sabine? Is she younger than you? Did you work on the Council?" and Ignorance yawns, responds with deflecting comments about the late hour and how her mortal self requires rest. She gets no answers. Her dreams fill with fog and silhouettes of animalistic demons.

 

And then her eyes snap open.

 

The moon has swathed the room in milk, and the air is cold enough to draw out goosebumps. Ignorance slumbers in the corner with his arms folded. Jackie is about to sleep once more when she spots a black figure pass by the window like a ghost. She blinks, wearily. 

 

The figure passes by the window again. Jackie steps out of the bed and steps towards the door, ever so lightly. She opens it and closes it without a sound.

 

Sabine stands with their hands stuffed it their pockets, their visor as clear as black ocean. "Come," they say. "Walk with me."

 

"Should I wake Ignorance?" asks Jackie. 

 

"The goat guy? No. Leave him."

 

The sea breeze carries a waft of cold air in its wake. Sabine takes Jackie down a short flight of stairs, then down another flight of stairs, until they've arrived at a tapered slice of the deck and the ocean's applause laps at the foot of the ship. 

 

"It's been a year," they begin, "but it only feels like yesterday. And if you shut your eyes and fall into the rhythm of a routine, it'll feel like the world's stopped turning." They turn to face Jackie; she sees her face reflected back at her, eyes large and round. "You and I both know better."

 

"What are you?" Jackie blurts out. "I know you're not human. But you're not a demon either."

 

Sabine presses a button on the side of their helmet, and the visor goes up. Shock ripples through Jackie.

 

Instead of a face, Sabine has one giant, unblinking eye. It is hard to tell what colour their iris is in the dark, but Jackie spots splotches of dark hazel against a bright pool of green. 

 

It's a very human colour.

 

Sabine flicks their visor back down. "I'm sorry I got your hopes up like that. Your demon friend was right when he said he couldn't scent any human life, because I'm not."

 

"I don't understand," says Jackie. "If you're not a demon either..."

 

"I'm the same as you, Jackie. A human who forged a pact with a demon."

 

Jackie shakes her head. "But then where's your demon?"

 

"I'm both human and demon." Sabine looks out at the ocean, their jacket billowing like a parachute in the wind. "Before the end of the world, my human counterpart was... a vulnerable individual. But once upon a time, he was the greatest maritime captain to ever sail the seven sprawling seas. When he was told that he had to be confined to his bed for the rest for his life, he was devastated.

 

"The demon was a young little thing, somewhere around five hundred years old. It liked to watch people, but being a demon it was confined to one area at a time. A hospital, I think. Didn't stop it from people watching from the windows. Then one day, it met an old sea captain on his last legs, and though the sea captain had withered into an uninteresting, grouchy old man, it was enthralled by the clarity of his soul." Sabine searches the horizon. "So vast. So unending. Everyday, the demon would talk to the other dying patients in the other wards, would absorb their regrets and promises, but the captain told tales that spanned oceans and countries. He was dying, but his soul was living."

 

Jackie swallows. The tale is familiar, but she doesn't want to say it. "And then what?" she asks instead.

 

"War broke out. Buildings crumbled, the air boiled, and no one could afford to sustain the dying anymore. The captain knew he would die soon. To save him, the demon formed a pact, but it was at a cost the demon could not fathom. Because you see," Sabine says, tilting their head, "the demon was only a few hundred years old. It was too weak for a true pact. So we merged. One body, one soul. That was the best we could do. Now I'm stuck on this ship, mopping the floors and keeping it clean, 'cause it just feels right."

 

Jackie says nothing. The wind is stronger now, so strong that it feels that it might steal the words from her mouth if she tries to speak. Sabine fixes her with a hard stare.

 

"Listen. I didn't tell you that story because I needed someone to talk to; I'm a walking conversation by myself. I need you to know that you're contracted with a very dangerous, very powerful individual, and that your contract is only temporary. The moment you find this Catalyst, your pact will expire." Though their eye is obscured, their gaze is stone-cold, their body as still as a statue. "People don't make pacts with demons because they're going to live another day. I know why you made yours. You're going to die the moment you find this Catalyst."

 

The wind passes, then the air is still and hot once more. Sabine nods and says, “You’re a good girl, caught up in some bad things. I’ll leave you to think about it.”

 

Jackie inhales the sea air, and holds her breath until her lungs feel like they might burst. 

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