The Age of Discovery, Chapter 6: The Water Flea
Day 3: 1430 hours... Emerging from the region of shadow, sunlit water fills our forward view with the now familiar close-yet-distant blur of watery blues, greens, and soft yellows. I post Barron to the crow’s nest to keep watch, and am about to order Gyro to take us up a hundred centimeters when the engine master’s rumble bellows over the voice pipe. “Collision! Close the shutters! Repeat: collision!” Gyro throws the release for the crash doors. The steel plates slam down over the glass panes of the pilothouse an instant before we hear a thunderous crunching sound, and are thrown forward against controls and railings. The noise of the impact reverberates through the ship – an out-of-tune timpani. The screech of metal against something of similar hardness provides an upper register to this chaotic chord. Then all becomes eerily quiet. “I think we hit something,” offers Lyra, pulling herself up from the deck, her wry c...