novelraw Chapter 108 34, Day 100, Part 1: Daybreak
Chapter 108 34, Day 100, Part 1: Daybreak
Aurum drowsily blinked awake. It took him a moment to remember that Callan was tucked against his side, and a subtle shift of the wing confirmed that she was still soundly asleep.
He rubbed his eyes with his free wing; it seemed he was stuck here for the time being.
(Art by Rackiera)
His stomach rumbled, and the golden dragon briefly considered going off to hunt. The sun would have risen by the time he returned, and while he could adjust the sleeping bag to shield her face from the sun, that still meant leaving her alone on this ship.
Surely that was safe to do…right?
But…no, he couldn't just leave her sleeping out in the open like this, so he set his head back down for a nap.
Some time later, the sound of human footsteps woke Aurum from his light slumber, and his eyelids slid open to see Pryce walking towards him.
The male human certainly looked different from Callan – short, half-white, half-black fur covered most of his face and head, and wherever it didn't he could see skin that was noticeably wrinkled. Callan had told him that those were indicators of age among humans, though he wasn't sure how old one would have to be to have white hair.
"Good morning," Pryce greeted. "Have you seen Callan anywhere?"
Aurum only shifted his wing in response, revealing the lump that laid against his side.
"Ah," Pryce said, nodding in realization. "When she wakes up, please tell her that food is ready. After we eat we can talk about today's plans."
Aurum nodded, not wanting to speak unless it were necessary.
Pryce turned to leave, then paused. "I haven't had the chance to say this yet, but thank you for saving her."
Aurum cocked his head, faintly confused by the sudden thanks. "I did not know to help you. But you are welcome. It was…very interesting," he added, feeling that he should elaborate. "Jane is the first person to need my help."
Pryce blinked in a way that Aurum thought conveyed mild surprise, but only nodded before turning away. The human left to talk to Hironh and his daughter before heading back into the ship.
"Mmh," Callan murmured a few minutes later, blinking drowsily. Her eyes shifted around for a few moments, processing her surroundings. "Oh. Right. Yesterday. Good morning, Aurum."
"Good morning, Laishaka. Pryce was here a few beats ago. He said that food is ready, and after you eat we can talk about the plan."
"Alright, thanks," Callan said, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. "I'll be back soon."
"My original plan was to have Celeste and Devotion patrol south and north, respectively," Pryce explained, laying out his labeled map in front of everyone. "Meanwhile, Fathom will circle above the ship so he can listen for any incoming transmissions."
"I see," Callan murmured as she stared intently at the map, though Pryce felt that she seemed a little distracted.
"Is something the matter?"
Callan pressed her lips into a thin line. "Do you…know if Gordon will be on the rescue ship?"
Pryce shook his head. "None of the crew were named in the transmission." He knew there was some disagreement between Callan and her husband over the latter's injury, which resulted in his replacement in the Horizon expedition.
"Yeah, I figured," Callan sighed. "Well, we'll just have to deal with it when we see each other again."
"I see," Pryce said, uncertain of how to respond.
Callan shook her head, as if clearing away any unnecessary thoughts. "Anyway, what's the plan if Celeste or Devotion find the rescue ship before you and Fathom? How would they talk to the Daybreak without getting themselves shot?"
"They'd use a radio," Pryce said, gesturing to the pile of equipment. "I glued a big button onto the transmitter, so they'll be able to talk to the Daybreak even without one of us to help. They can't adjust the frequency, but they shouldn't need to. If for some reason the radio doesn't work, then they'll follow the ship until Fathom and I arrive. They can try approaching the ship themselves if it gets too close to Loahm, but that should be avoided if possible."
"I can go north," Aurum declared, then paused as he realized he was stealing Devotion's spot. «Erhm…may I go north?» he asked tentatively.
Devotion snorted, tossing her head. «Go ahead. I won't stop you from doing my work for me.»
"Guess we're going north," Callan shrugged.
"Wait, you want to go with him? Are you sure you're up for that?" Pryce asked. A preliminary checkup had shown that her vitals were passable, but not what Pryce would have comfortably called 'healthy'.
"I'm feeling much better today," Callan said, brushing off his concern. "Besides, it's worth the effort to make sure things go smoothly."
"Good point," Pryce reluctantly admitted. "But Aurum will need to fly as high as he can to get the most out of the radio; that's about 5 kilometers, so you'll need to bring warm clothes and an oxygen tank."
"I can fly up and down, so it is not always cold," Aurum added.
"Great," Callan said, clapping her hands together. "Now, let's see this flight gear you've put together."
"Hear anything?" Pryce asked through the radio.
"Only you," Celeste said, her voice crackling over the radio. "You can still hear me, right?"
"I can hear you," Pryce confirmed.
"Nothing yet?" Callan asked.
"No, but it's no reason to worry; I wouldn't be surprised if they arrived tomorrow."
"True. Let's just hope they get here before the Solstice."
"Alright Celeste," Pryce said, speaking into the microphone, "fly south like we planned. And don't forget-"
"-to use the radio, because if I don't they will probably try to shoot me," Celeste recited drily. "I know, we just had this conversation."
"How old is she again?" Callan asked.
"Twenty."
"Ah."
"Well, just be careful," Pryce said, and Celeste peeled away from her circling to begin her southward patrol. "How does it fit?" he asked Callan, who had just finished putting on her version of the flight gear – thick clothes beneath windbreakers along with lab goggles with a plastic face shield, and a backpack that held the radio, flares, and oxygen tanks.
Aurum peered interestedly at her new equipment as she pulled herself onto his back and secured herself in place with a few clicks of the carabiners. "Are the chains uncomfortable, Aurum?"
"They are not comfortable," Aurum said, turning his head around to try and get a good look at himself. "But they are not uncomfortable, and they are very pretty."
"I guess they are pretty shiny," Callan chuckled. "Well, guess it's time to get going."
"Good luck," Pryce nodded, and Aurum leapt into the skies.
"I am glad that things will be over soon," Fortitude sighed as she stared up at the sky. "All this waiting is very boring."
"Ah, that reminds me," Pryce said. "I have a gift for you."
"What is that? It smells horrible!" Fortitude exclaimed, reeling her head back in disgust.
"It's called ammonia; it's a liquid that cleans things," Pryce explained as he mixed the solution of soap, ammonia, and sodium bicarbonate – also known as baking soda. "Can I borrow your gold ring for about ten minutes?"
«Absolutely not!» Devotion hissed, making Pryce jump.
"Okay," Fortitude shrugged before deftly removing her ring.
«What? But we spent tens of years making these!» Devotion exclaimed. «How can you just give it away?»
«I'm not giving it away, I'm just letting him clean it. And look how small he is! It's not like he could keep it from me,» Fortitude said with a reasonable air, gesturing pointedly at the diminutive human.
Pryce tried to ignore Devotion's glare as he accepted the gold band. Seeing it up close allowed him to discern faint and intricate markings across the surface, though he wasn't sure if they held any meaning other than being decorative.
The amount of gold in that band would have fetched a considerable sum on the Mainland, making Pryce wonder how rare the precious metal was on Loahm. Gold wasn't the most interesting of substances – its non-reactivity limited its practical applications – the possibility of the island having significant reserves of the metal would certainly be of interest to other humans.
«If he breaks it or makes it smell terrible, then he will need to either fix it or replace it with something of equal value,» Devotion warned.
"I'll be careful, and I promise it won't smell like ammonia afterwards," Pryce said, hoping that would ease their concerns as he gently submerged the ring within the cleaning solution with a plink. "We need to wait five minutes, then I'll be able to clean it," he said, checking the time with the chronometer.
They passed the time with idle chatter, though the dragons were a little distracted by the precious treasure currently stewing in the offensive ammonia bath.
Once five minutes had passed Pryce picked up a toothbrush and began to scrub at the gold ring. Dust and grime fell away with ease, and eyes widened as the precious metal revealed its true luster.
"It looks like new – better than new," Fortitude breathed. She tried to reach for the ring, but was warded off by Pryce's toothbrush.
"Give me a few more minutes, I can make it shinier," Pryce said, and she restrained herself with a grumble.
The accessory seemed to gain a little more luster on the second round, though the change was far less noticeable this time. For the last step he simply rinsed the band in clean water before rubbing it down with a rag soaked in isopropyl alcohol.
Fortitude deftly speared the ring through with a talon, and gave it an experimental sniff.
"See, no ammonia smell, right?" Pryce asked Fortitude.
"This smells like…alcohol, but different. Not bad."
"Yep. Alcohol is good at cleaning things, and it evaporates much faster than water," Pryce explained. "So, how is it?"
"This is very good! Thank you!" she exclaimed, bowing her head gratefully.
"Great," Pryce smiled, then turned to Devotion, who was staring at the metal bowl and not quite meeting his eyes. "Do you want me to make your ring shiny too?"
"...Yes," she mumbled, reluctantly handing over the precious item. Her partner gave her a pointed look, and she begrudgingly added, "Please."
This second process was much less eventful. When it was done, Devotion accepted her new and improved treasure with stilted thanks, though she noticeably held her head a little higher afterwards.
Xylem arrived a short time afterwards, landing awkwardly on the unoccupied end of the ship as he maneuvered to land without the use of his occupied foreclaws.
«I've brought more coffee beans,» Xylem announced, carefully setting the bag on the ground. «Oh, did Pryce help you polish your rings?»
«He did,» Fortitude smugly replied. «Don't they look amazing?»
«They do,» Xylem said, nodding appreciatively. «By the way, have you found your 'ship' yet?»
Pryce shook his head. "Not yet. Fathom is trying to hear the ship right now. Hear anything, Fathom?"
[Still nothing,] came the scratchy reply through the radio.
«Nothing yet,» Devotion translated.
«I see. Well, in the meantime, could Pryce make more of that coffee 'tea'?» Xylem asked hopefully.
"Well, I don't have anything better to do at the moment. Let me know if Fathom hears anything," Pryce said, the elder dragons nodding in response as he picked up the bag of coffee beans.
Celeste tried not to get her hopes up, but she still couldn't help but be disappointed when she was forced to turn around after hearing nothing all day.
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She settled back into a steady glide, and panned her head around irritably. Qnaro or her father would probably be the one to find the ship, but she was the youngest, so she couldn't exactly argue.
She had asked Pryce one day, after her patrols, why they bothered going south at all if the Mainland was to the north. The human had said that sailing was complicated, and that sometimes riding a current meant going a little off course. That made sense, of course, but that didn't mean she preferred to go this unlikelier route. In fact, she was starting to doubt that the radio would really work as Pryce said, what if-
[Crackle]
Celeste froze. Holding her breath she slowly panned her head (specifically the radio antenna) back and forth around the direction where the radio made a noise.
Nothing.
She tilted her wings, searching for a thermal to climb just a little higher. Just as she flew as high as she could, she heard it again.
[Crackle…di-di-dit-da-da-da-di…crackle…]
There, in the north - setward!
Celeste paused, waiting for the rest of the message, but the odd pattern of sounds just kept repeating. Well, it didn't really matter what the message was; she just had to seek its source.
A rising sense of excitement bubbled through her chest – her patrol had drifted some distance to the east, and given her current position she had a real chance at being the first to greet the humans.
Celeste folded her wings and dove.
"South-east, right?"
"Yes, climb up!" Fathom said, urgently helping Pryce up. "The ship should be coming towards us, but Celeste might be close enough to get there first."
"Is there anything we should do to prepare?" Fortitude asked.
"Let the others know what's going on, but don't tell them to come to the ship," Pryce said. "It'll draw too much attention, so have them gather on the island if you can. We'll go tell them what happened once both ships are together. If everything goes well, we'll be back in about seven hours."
"Good luck," the two elders said, and Fathom leapt into the air.
Celeste spent the last few hours not-quite following the direction of the noise. She was still headed for the source, of course, but she made sure to angle herself to the north in hopes of flying to where the ship would be instead of where it currently was. The young dragon had no way of knowing where the exact intercept point was, but that didn't mean she couldn't give it her best guess.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she saw a tiny plume of smoke over the ocean that almost looked like an odd cloud at this distance. A short time later and the ship came into view – it was a mere dot at this distance, but still unmistakable as an artificial construct.
"Hello?" She asked, once pressing down on the transmitter's 'on' button. "Can anyone hear me?"
No response. Pryce had said that she might have to get within ten or twenty kilometers for the radio to work, so she angled her wings and sped towards her target.
Gordon Callan restlessly drummed his fingers against the table as he waited. The radio headset was tight and uncomfortable after being worn for many hours, but he didn't dare take it off, even for a second.
He took a moment to glance outside the window as he often did at his post. In about four hours they'd reach their destination.
Potentially four hours left to find out what happened to Jane.
…assuming the Horizon made it to the island in the first place. For all anyone knew, the ship could've sunk to the bottom of the ocean months ago, taking her entire crew to a watery grave.
Captain Siebert had warned them all to expect the worst at the start of the mission, publicly and privately. The engineer sighed at the memory. If it were anyone else he'd have told them to piss off, but the captain was different – his own sister had been on the Horizon, after all.
Gordon had to admit that something had likely gone terribly wrong for the Horizon to be so delayed, but that was no reason to assume the crew hadn't survived.
He checked the radio for what felt like the thousandth time. Still nothing. The engineer sighed, and glanced out the window to try and settle his nerves. It didn't work very well, but it was a rather beautiful day; only a few wispy clouds obscured the otherwise deep blue sky.
On a whim, he brought up his binoculars to get a better look at a particularly odd cloud formation, and frowned.
There was a faint dot in the sky…and it seemed to be moving? It must've been a bird, but this far out from land?
Gordon flicked a switch, connecting the wheelhouse intercom.
"Hey Nash, you read me?"
[Yeah, I read you,] Nash's voice cracked over the radio after a moment's silence. [You hear something?] The lieutenant's voice was calm, but there was an edge of excitement to it.
"No, sorry. Just wanted to check how much longer until we make landfall."
[Again?] Nash sighed. [Our projected position is about two hundred and twenty clicks away, give or take twenty.]
Gordon furrowed his brow. What was a bird doing so far from shore? Could it be traveling to some smaller island?
"You ever remember seeing a bird this far out at sea?" Gordon asked.
[Not that I remember. Why, you see one?]
"Yeah. I was just thinking if things don't go right we could follow it, see if it can lead us to a nearby island."
A pause. [Maybe. Let's wait until we get to the rendezvous point, alright?]
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Gordon said, rolling his eyes. "It's a crazy idea, but we don't know where any of the smaller islands are; so I think it's something we should consider if we can't find the Horizon."
[Mmm,] came the noncommittal crackle. [So, how big is this bird?]
"Not sure. I can't make out any details. I think it's blue? And…"
[...and what? Gordon? You still hear-]
"Give me a minute," Gordon said, cutting off a stifled protest with a flick of the intercom. He leaned out a window of his outlook and called over the first person he saw – a young physicist by the name of Scott.
"You hear something, Mr. Callan?" Scott asked, climbing into the outlook.
"Look over there," Gordon said, handing over his binoculars. "See that bird?"
"You called me up here for a bird?" Scott asked as he peered at the target. "I'm a bit busy at the – huh. Weird looking bird. Looks like it's all blue, and it's weird…like something's off about it, but I'm not sure what. Hey, is that light supposed to be blinking?"
Gordon followed the younger man's line of sight to see the radio's indicator light blinking – then scrambled to turn on the speakers.
[He…o? Can…hear me?] an oddly distorted voice asked.
"Hot damn," Scott swore, eyes wide.
"Binoculars!" Gordon barked, snapping Scott out of his stupor. He fumbled for the microphone, excitement rising – if they were close enough to be heard then that meant the ship had to be nearby, a mere twenty kilometers away at most.
"Horizon, we read you, but your signal is weak, please acknowledge. Repeat, your signal strength is weak, please acknowledge."
It was only after the words left his mouth did Gordon realize the speaker hadn't been observing radio protocol.
[Oh! Finally, someone…me!] the voice said. [...Wait, why are you calling me weak?]
Gordon's eyes met Scott's, the two men momentarily baffled in their shared silence.
"Er…come again? Who is this?" Gordon asked.
[Oh, you must not have heard…introduce myself. You may call me Celeste, and…said I am…]
Gordon shot Scott a look – the noise rendered this 'Celeste' quite unintelligible, and the young physicist looked as confused as he felt. There wasn't anyone named Celeste on the Horizon, and the baritone voice, muffled though it was by noise, was quite clearly masculine.
[…talk directly to you,] 'Celeste' said, his voice crackling back into audibility. [Pryce also said that I should ask before I land on your ship.]
"Land on the ship?" Gordon repeated blankly, feeling as though he were missing several critical pieces of information.
"Pryce?" Scott asked, leaning into the microphone. "Is Doctor Pryce with you?"
[Yes…talk to you, once I am on your ship,] Celeste said, his voice notably clearer than when they'd first begun conversing – they must have gotten closer, but Gordon didn't know what to think of the odd, stilted cadence with which he spoke.
"Yes, where are you?" Gordon asked, glancing at the user interface before him. The miniature light bulbs indicated that the antenna array was receiving a signal from the south-west.
[You are north-east from me, so I am flying towards you from the south-west.]
Gordon blinked.
"...Flying?" Scott asked hesitantly. "Did he say 'flying'?"
Gordon muted the microphone. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but whoever this is has to be someone from the Horizon, go and tell the others-"
[Hello? Can you still hear me?] Celeste asked again. [Can I land on your ship?]
Gordon turned back to the radio as Scott clambered down the ladder, his heart hammering in his chest. "Er…don't land just yet," he said, playing along with the nonsensical speaker. "How many people are with you? Do you know where Jane Callan is?"
[No one is with me right now, but I met Callan yesterday,] Celeste casually replied.
Gordon froze. Jane was alive?
[She and Aurum flew north in case your ship wandered off course,] Celeste continued, [and I flew south – oh, Aurum is a dragon too.]
"A dragon?" Gordon gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to snap. "What do you mean you 'found' Callan? Is she alive? What do dragons have to do with any of this?"
[What do you mean?] Celeste asked, sounding confused. [Of course Callan is alive, but I already told you that I am a dragon. Did you not hear me? I think you should be able to see me if you have the same binoculars that Pryce has.]
"No, I…uh…" Gordon stammered, unsure of what to address first – Jane being alive, or the fact that he was talking to a self-proclaimed dragon. He fumbled with the binoculars, a pit of sheer disbelief forming in his gut.
The 'bird' in the sky was closer now, enough for him to see that it wasn't a bird at all.
[I'm flapping my wings, can you see me now?] Celeste asked as the dragon in the distance flapped his wings.
"Oh god," Gordon said, feeling more than a little lightheaded. "Uh…don't land yet, please?"
[Why not?] came the confused reply.
"I, uh, need to tell the others first. Hold on." Gordon cleared his throat and flicked a switch on the intercom. "Captain, there's something you need to see."
Captain Siebert slid the routine engine performance report into a folder along with its predecessors, and dropped the folder back into its respective place in the cabinet of his desk.
Next he pulled up a report regarding the assessment of the ship's supply of food-
[Captain, could you come up to the lookout? There's something you need to see.]
Siebert frowned as he set down the report. Gordon was usually quite pertinent, and this indirect manner of speaking was notably out of character.
"Could you elaborate, Callan? Did you detect a signal from the Horizon?"
[Not exactly. Look, sir, I just need you to come to the lookout, alright?]
Siebert furrowed his brow. He considered ordering the man to just tell him what was happening, but the uncertain, almost shaken tone in the engineer's voice decided him. "...Alright, Callan, I'll be right there."
[Good. Please hurry.]
The captain briskly walked down the corridors of the ship, and almost ran into Scott as he turned a corner.
"We found the Horizon, sir!" the young man blurted out before Siebert could admonish him for running in the hallways.
Siebert froze, baffled by the conflicting information. "Are you certain? Callan just called me over the intercom and said that he 'hadn't exactly' found the ship."
Now it was Scott's turn to freeze. "W-What?" he stammered. "But we just talked to someone named Celeste over the radio."
"Celeste?" The captain frowned. He knew the names of each and every crewman aboard the Horizon, and not a single one of them had that unique name. "I believe Mr. Callan owes us an explanation."
"Captain," Gordon greeted as Captain Siebert climbed into the lookout.
"Callan," Captain Siebert greeted. "What seems to be the issue?"
Gordon gestured to the radio as Scott joined them inside the cramped room. "A few minutes ago we began to receive a radio transmission. At first I assumed it was the Horizon, but it turns out the signal was coming from…that."
Captain Siebert looked up and blanched. "Heavens…what is that?" he demanded, baffled by the sheer size of the creature in the sky.
"You might want to use these," Gordon said, handing him the pair of binoculars.
"That's…!" Siebert tore his eyes away from the binocular to stare at Gordon, who shrugged helplessly.
"Celeste, say hello to Captain Siebert," Gordon said, speaking into the radio.
[Hello Captain Siebert,] a strange voice said over the radio, his tone inflected with an exceptionally deep, rumbling quality. [Can I land on your ship?]
"Who…Are you saying that-"
"The signal appears to be coming from that dragon over there, yes," Gordon nodded, muting the microphone. "Apparently he learned Murian from Doctor Pryce and Jane," Gordon paused, his eyes wary and full of uncertainty. "You might want to sit down for this next part, Captain."
Siebert stared, confusion evident on his face. "Well what's the problem? Doesn't he know where the Horizon and her crew are?"
"Celeste, please tell the Captain what you just told me."
[I can take you to the Horizon, but the only survivors are Pryce and Callan. Can I-]
"What?" Captain Siebert said, his normally commanding voice suddenly sounding quite frail in the stunned silence. "What happened to everyone else? And when?"
[Pryce said they died from carbon monoxide poisoning before the ship arrived on Loahm – that is the name of our land.]
"That doesn't make any sense," Gordon murmured. "How can-"
"We can answer that question later," Siebert curtly interrupted.
For a moment Gordon nearly protested, but then he saw the pain in his Captain's eyes, and he felt silent.
"Right now the important thing is finding the Horizon and her remaining crew."
"Of course, Captain," Gordon grimly nodded.
Captain Siebert nodded back, and straightened himself before pressing on the radio. "Celeste. Please, tell us everything."
A horn blared throughout the ship, calling all crewmen to the deck. The sounding of this horn did not necessarily mean an emergency, though there were very few benign situations which necessitated such swift summons. Excited murmurs filled the air as the last few stragglers assembled. Scott had already told several sailors the 'good news', which had naturally spread to the rest of the crew in short order.
Captain Siebert cleared his throat, and the men quickly fell silent.
"Some of you may have heard that we've come into contact with the Horizon," the captain began. "This is only partially true. Fifteen minutes ago, engineer Callan received a radio signal – one that came not from a ship, but from an ally of our comrades."
Siebert had decided that it was best to withhold the fate of the crew for now, and he had also ordered Gordon and Scott to remain silent on the matter. There was no reason to keep the truth hidden for long, but Gordon could understand why it was a good idea to save the bad news for later – once the crew had time to process what they were about to tell them.
"Ally?" Edwin echoed, the sailor crossing his burly arms in confusion. "Captain, what do you mean, 'ally'?"
"On the contrary, Mr. Baldwin," Siebert replied. "I – along with Mr. Callan and Mr. Harris – have spoken at length with them. As fantastical as it sounds, our guest is a native inhabitant of this land, and they can only be described as a dragon – one who is capable of speech."
Silence.
"Is this a joke, Captain?" The cook – a man named Leonard – asked, the look of utter confusion on his face shared by many of his crewmates. Some turned around, as if expecting a dragon to be standing right behind them, while others turned their eyes to the sky. "I beg your pardon, captain, but are you saying that we received a radio transmission from a dragon?"
Siebert opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by a sudden cry of alarm accompanied by fingers pointing to the sky. "What the fuck is that?!"
"The dragon is not hostile," Siebert said, shouting over the cries of alarm. "He has sought us out on behalf of the Horizon's crew. You can see him flying above us right now, waiting for me to give him permission to land," he explained, but this did little to pacify the crew. "Enough! The fact that the dragon is fluent in Murian is proof enough of his intentions, and my decision is made. Engineer Callan and myself will greet the dragon, all other crewmen are to remain below decks as a precaution. Lieutenant Baker, a word." His bellowed proclamation finally silenced the crew, smothering the rising panic before it could spread any further.
"You heard the man!" Baker yelled, chivvying the crew below decks before turning to the captain. "Yes sir?"
"Take Nash and Campbell with you to the armory," Siebert said, once the crew were out of earshot. "I want you three armed with ten-millimeter rifles. Stay out of sight and be ready, but under no circumstances are you to reveal yourselves before my order, understand?"
Captain Siebert saw a flicker of uncertainty in Baker's eyes, but the lieutenant only saluted. "Yessir."
"Good man. I don't know if the dragon knows what a rifle is, but make sure he can't see them, and wait for my signal to stand down."
Baker nodded, then set about following his orders.
"You sure the rifles are a good idea, sir?" Callan asked.
"At the very least, it'll make the crew feel safer," Sibert explained. Lieutenant Baker was a skilled marksman, but he had chosen Nash and Campbell for their tempered and steadfast personality rather than their skill with a firearm.
"Uh, sir?"
Siebert turned around to see Scott jogging back towards them. "What is it, Mr. Harris?"
"I was thinking it would be best if I joined you and Mr. Callan, sir – we did talk to Celeste over the radio, I mean, so it might be a bit rude not to say hello."
"Permission granted," Siebert said absently as he adjusted his coat. "Now, I think we've kept our guest waiting long enough, wouldn't you say?"