James only had to walk a short distance before he found an opening in the railing. He walked up to it and was met with a long metal bridge. The dim light of the surrounding ships was just enough to give him a glimpse of the other side. The metal bridge was made to be perfectly flat, making traveling from one ship to other less difficult than one might think. Metal fences stretched from the base of the bridge all the way up the sides where they were connected by a top piece of fencing, completely enclosing the entire bridge. The fencing had been made to stretch to great distances, and the floor was made up from dozens of metal plates. Beneath this layer of metal plates was another layer of similar plates. If the ships drifted away from each other, resulting in the separation of the bridge’s plates, the ones layer beneath would fill the gap. The bridge could essentially be stretched to twice its length without failing. Ships drifting from each other usually never happened, though. This was because, in addition to the bridge, the ships were also attached by several metal beams that extended from each ship and joined in the middle. Though it was rare, there were times that vessels had to depart from the fleet. This was usually to investigate certain areas or locate flocks of jespers. Upon their return, James would always sit and watch them dock themselves with the rest of the fleet. It was usually an all-day affair requiring precise movements from both sides. Despite its difficulty, the process itself was quite simple. Both ships that were trying to dock together would extend their metal beams and attach them to the other ships metal beams. Then, the bridge would be dragged across and connected in the middle, as well. This part was easier said than done, since they had no machinery to deploy the bridge. Instead, the two beams closest to bridge contained a pulley with a rope through it. One end would connect to the bridge, and the other would fall into the hands of the workers. The rest was simply grunt work that involved pulling on the rope, which pulled the bridge closer to the center. James found it entertaining to watch because he usually heard some of the same language that the cooks used.

James took a step forward. The bridge was surprisingly sturdy underneath his feet. Using the light from the sparks as guidance, he dashed across. His feet made loud clangs against the metal that would have been noticeable if it weren’t for the sound of the wind and sparks that surrounded him. His destination was the center ship, which served as more of a command center than anything. The only crew that slept on the central ship were the Divers and the Regulators, who oversaw keeping the peace on all the fleet’s vessels. Besides them, the Captain was the only other person allowed to sleep on the ship.

Now safely on the other side, James peered across the ship’s upper deck. Just like on his ship, a crowd occupied most of the railing. No one paid him any mind, as their focus was still drawn to the sparks below. Scanning the horizon, he found another bridge. Luckily for him, this was the last bridge he needed to cross to get to the central ship. James’s ship was rather close to the center. For some of the less fortunate people that were positioned on the outskirts of the city, it could be as much as a twenty-minute walk.

James hustled across the ship and onto the final bridge. The Sparks Ceremony only lasted roughly fifteen minutes. Ideally, James wanted to be in and out of the central ship before it was over, or at the very least make it in before it was over. James started to cross the bridge, but he didn’t run this time. The central ship was usually always patrolled by the Regulators. He crept forward until his vision could make out the other side of the bridge. A feeling of relief washed over him. The bridges that led to the central ship were typically guarded by one or two Regulators, making it incredibly difficult to sneak onto the ship. James had only succeeded once before. He instinctively reached up to his coat pocket as his mind fluttered back to the memory of it. He felt the unmistakable texture of paper crumbling. A large breath involuntarily left his mouth. James hadn’t even noticed that was holding his breath. Steeling himself, he proceeded forward, his eyes scanning the upper deck of the central ship. There was still a crowd, same as the other ships, but it was much thinner on this one. James hoped that was because there were simply less people that called the central ship home, and not because half of them were still below deck. His eyes fell upon two individuals who were wearing long gray coats that reached down to their knees. Along the front were two outer pockets and several golden-colored buttons. Regulator uniforms. James held his breath, and then let it out once he realized they were looking over the railing the same as everyone else. He crept passed them, off the bridge and onto the ship. He peered around. James knew better than anyone that if they found him, he would quickly be escorted back to his ship and punished. His success rate might only be one, but his attempt rate was much higher. He’d lost count of how many times he’d tried to sneak onto the ship, usually never making it past the bridge before being taken back to Vessel Nine to be punished. It wasn’t all bad, though. He had his failed attempts to thank for his closeness to Bron. Cleaning dinner plates was one of the Regulators’ favorite punishments.

James spotted a stack of boxes in the middle of the ship and scurried over to it. It was hard to get himself into a good hiding position since there were people in every direction. He rotated around the stack until he found a slot where a box had been removed, creating a small square hiding place that would shield him on three sides. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. Crouching low to the ground, he squirmed his way inside. The scent of smoke stained the air. James thought it was strange for the smell of the burning metal to have made it all the way on deck.

He poked his head out. A few feet in front of him, the hatch was embedded into the deck. Several dozen feet passed the hatch, he could see the familiar stature of Captain Shamran. More so than his physique, it was his hat that gave him away. A large tricorn hat that came to three separate points sat on top of his head, unmoving in the ripples of the wind. James pulled his head back inside his hiding spot and began to breath in rapid breaths. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He was scared. Almost as scared as he had been climbing the ladder earlier in the day. James bit his lip. Face it, he told himself. Face the fear. He took a deep, uneven breath and let it out. His eyes narrowed. There was still fear whirling about inside him but mixed with it was an overbearing sense of determination. He thought of his father climbing down a rope into the depths of the unknown. Compared to that, this was nothing. He poked his head out again, testing the waters. Seeing that no one was looking at him, he started towards the hatch. He reached it in seconds, quickly reaching down to unlatch it. That was the easy part. Now he had to lift it without being seen or making any noise. He gently lifted the hatch using the handle situated on top of it. He had gotten it a quarter of the way open when Captain Shamran’s loud, burly laugh sent a jolt of panic through him, causing him to drop the hatch. He cursed at himself internally and dove back into his hiding place. He could hear the hatch slam shut behind him as he went. Luckily, it was overshadowed by the wind and laughter that swirled about the deck. James prayed to the winds that Captain Shamran hadn’t heard it. After a few moments of tense silence, he crawled out. Captain Shamran was looking about the ship. Even from the distance he was from him, James could sense the concern in his demeanor. He watched as Captain Shamran slowly raised a finger and pointed. James breathed out a ragged sigh of relief. He wasn’t point at him. He was pointing in the direction of…the bridge, James thought with a groan.

“Farv! Shun! You are to be watching the bridge, not the sparks,” Captain Shamran said.

James always thought his voice sounded firm, like you were running into a metal wall every time he spoke.

Though James couldn’t see them, he could hear their apologies and the faint sound of their footsteps as they walked to their post. It looks like getting out just got more difficult, James thought with an internal sigh. He waited patiently for Shamran to occupy himself with the sparks again before moving. Once the man in the hat was fixated back on the sparks that lit up the night in the distance, James made his second attempt. He rushed up to the hatch, doing the same thing as before. He looked to his side and saw the two Regulators standing at the bridge. They were facing the opposite direction as him, so he had no worries about them catching him. He slowly raised the hatch until it was open wide enough to fit his body through. Sliding his feet onto the stairs beneath him, he quietly lowered the hatch.

After most of the adrenaline had dissipated from his body, he turned around and descended the stairs. A long corridor waited for him at the bottom. He found himself grinning. It was the same as the last time he’d been in here, which meant he knew exactly where to go. He sped down the corridor as fast as he could without running. He didn’t know if anyone was still below deck, so he was afraid running might attract attention. He descended two more flights of stairs before reaching the room he was looking for: The Wheel House. It was the room that steered the entire fleet. The most important room in all of Vinci.

James slid the door open and slipped inside. The entire room had an antique feel to it, as if it hadn’t been altered since Vinci’s founding. And indeed, it might not have. James couldn’t find a single difference when comparing the room in front of his eyes to the room from his memories. A large wooden table stood in the center of the room. To his knowledge, it was the only wooden item in the entire fleet other than the crates that were used to transport supplies. James always found the material strange. Wood. Such a heavy material, yet so easily damaged.

He eyed the table as he walked past. Several metal chairs circled it, looking out of place next to the wood. The desk itself was filled with papers and roughly drawn maps that he couldn’t decipher. He continued to the wheel that sat at the front of the room. Glass occupied the wall in front of it, giving a broad view of the horizon—or at least it would have if darkness didn’t consume the night. Even still, he was able to make out the faint glow of the sparks from some of the vessels that surrounded the central ship. This encouraged James. It was going to be much easier to sneak out if the Spark Ceremony was still going on. With a nod of determination, he walked up to the wheel. It was large. Larger than it needed to be in James’s mind. He could barely reach both sides of it with his arms stretched to full length. It was positioned completely vertical, attached at the back with a sturdy metal bar that rose from the floor. James, however, wasn’t concerned with the wheel. He was instead focusing on the tiny monitor fixed to the upper right corner of the room. It gave off a faint green glow. On it were several dots, all labeled with different coordinates. In the center of the screen was a triangle. It hadn’t taken James long to decipher that the triangle was them and the dots were places of interest. He walked passed the wheel to get a better look at the screen. Then, he pulled out the piece of paper he had been carrying. He eyed the numbers on the paper and tried to match them with any of the numbers on the screen. The match came faster than he thought. It was the next dot. They were going to be there soon. It was hard to truly gauge the distance, but based on the position of the previous dot, which James assumed was where they last stopped, he estimated they would be there in the next couple days.

Having retrieved the information that he came for, he slipped out of the room. He had only taken several steps when he heard the faint clacking of footsteps on the metal ground. He froze, taking a few steps back in the process. Should he return to the wheel house? No. If he did get caught, he certainly didn’t want to be caught in there. He whipped his head around, looking down the corridor opposite of where he heard the footsteps, and spotted a large, double-door entry way. He knew running into random rooms was a bad idea, but the approaching footsteps were quite motivational.

James sprinted for the room, ripping open the doors and disappearing inside. The room was large. The largest room he’d ever seen in all his years of exploring. He wanted to inspect every inch of it, but he had bigger things to focus on, like those footsteps pounding down the hallway. James held his breath, this time intentionally. The footsteps were getting closer. Too close… and they were slowing down.

James whirled about looking for a possible hiding spot. He spotted a large, metal bookcase that took up a large portion of the wall at the back of the room. From his position, he could see that it wasn’t pushed flush up against the wall. There might even be enough room to squeeze behind it. With that thought in mind, he dashed over to it. For a split second, his focus zoned in on the shelves themselves. They contained machinery that he had never seen before. Silver canisters hooked up to worn leathery straps, and a barrel that jutted out from a mess of tubing. He squinted at the canisters, and in a flash, he remembered. This was Diver equipment. They often wore it when they descended beneath the clouds. James had only seen the Divers descend from far away, making small details about their clothing and equipment hard to discern. He did, however, remember being temporarily blinded on several occasions when the sun reflected off something on their back. Seeing as how even the dim light of the room was causing a noticeable glare off the canister, it seemed to fit the description. James yearned to inspect the equipment more closely but could still hear the footsteps in the corridor urging him to hide. The crack behind the bookcase was tight, but not so tight that he couldn’t fit in it. He wiggled his way in, his back pushed firmly against the cool metal wall, and his cheek and chest pressed up against the back of the shelving. He was about to shift to a more comfortable position when the sound of a door opening filled the room. He froze. The people entering the room were talking. He listened closer. The voices were recognizable to him. It only took a few moments for him to place it. These were the voices of Charlie, Duke, and Sven. He knew this because they were Divers, and well, James knew all the Divers. He did, after all, want to be one someday.