Page 3 of Leveling

“No, I don’t. But also, did you hear the edict? I suppose it’s too late for you and your family to begin the journey east tonight, but you’ll have to go first thing in the morning.” His eyes darted to the water level marks just below his feet.

Luna pulled onto her stomach, then rose to standing in one quick, non-toppling, or even rocking movement. She said, “We leave marks at every Outpost.” She turned sharply starboard, paddled thirty-five strokes to the corner, gestured with her paddle at the glass, and called back, “It’s the first thing I checked when I got here. Messages. There’s a name: Sam. A mark that says, ‘Shares.’ Which he did. And there’s one that says, ‘New Guy.’ It doesn’t say your name.”

“Not that it’s relevant, but my name is Beckett.”

She paddled along the wall returning to the glassless opening where he stared out, watching her peripherally. “So Beckett, I’m pretty hungry.”

He cut his eyes her direction. “Oh, um, I’m only supposed to give you a pack of food once I’ve seen you’re agreeable to heading to the mainland. Those are my direct orders. And you should probably discuss it with your family too.” He returned to staring out over the ocean, averting her gaze.

Luna wondered if that was something he learned in service-guy training? To not look? He acted important, the way he kept telling her what to do, but also a little like he was pretending.

“We can’t begin the journey east until morning. You just said so.” She squinted at him. He was definitely a Stiffneck. Still and rigid.

Waterfolk, such as Luna, had to rock and roll with the waves. They had to constantly adjust. Balance was the name of their game.

But within Beckett’s rigidity, his eyes caught the light and danced like water. His skin was paler than her own. Luna wondered if he reflected sun, instead of soaking it in. He didn’t look like anyone Luna was used to seeing. Ever.

She was used to dark skin and deep eyes, the kind of eyes that were all one deep dark color, the same as basically every single other person. Like her own.

He seemed to be considering the situation. He looked around at the ocean and everywhere except at Luna, and then down at the water level again. He crouched and seemed to forget she was watching, shifting, softly paddling, while he rubbed his finger along the numerical markings. He stood. “I have to restate the importance, I can’t stress it enough, of you following the edict and heading to the mainland first thing tomorrow morning.”

Luna smiled, “In due haste.”

“Yes.”

“I’m kind of hungry now, Sam would definitely give us something to eat.”

He sighed. “How many people are with you?”

Luna twisted her board away from the Outpost and propelled herself with four small strokes. She looked broadly to the left and the right. “I’m not a hundred percent sure where they went, so it’s only me, until they come back.”

“Okay, you can come to the rooftop for something to eat.”

Luna dropped her head to the side. “I don’t knoooooooow.”

His brow knit, irritated. “What don’t you know?”

“I seem to be alone at the present, without the protection of my eighteen brothers, and I don’t know you, and I’m not sure you’re trustworthy.”

“I have a job. My job is to read you the edict and save you from the rising waters. I’m not going to risk my job by being a jerk.” He stared out at the horizon, then asked, “You really have eighteen brothers?”

Luna said, “Yep, big brothers.” She sized him up with her squinting gaze for a few long uncomfortable minutes. Then she pulled her paddleboard to the opening, gathered a rope, and stepped gracefully onto the landing at Beckett’s Outpost.

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