Not down on any map

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"Whaaaaaaaaaale! There she blooooooows!!!“

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“A girl whale, then?” Gavin asks. “That’s good!”

“Why’s that good?” Connor replies, clearly puzzled. What has the gender of their prey to do with anything? Already the harpooneers make haste towards the boats, and the boat pilots are expected to do the same. They’ve got a whale to spear!

“Because”, Gavin explains, “we found out that we’re trapped in a book. Specifically in a fantasy version of Moby Di.ck, starring a fire mage and a necromancer from Sulani.”

“And in this context”, Sigstein adds, “spearing a male whale is an absolute no-no. Because that might be Moby, and the moment they confront Moby…”

“Everyone drowns in the end, I remember”, Connor finishes the sentence. “I see.”

Trouble is, while Connor’s mind may “see”, his legs “hear”, namely the Captain’s order to lower the boats. It’s getting increasingly harder to resist the urge to obey.

“I’m a deviant android”, Connor tells himself. “I managed to break free from my program code, so there’s a chance I can ignore this outside influence, too!”

His fists balled, fingernails tearing into his palms, Connor forces himself to stand firmly on the spot and listen to Gavin and Sigstein. But they, too, hear the siren call of obedience…

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Meanwhile the harpooners have reached the boats. Having failed to overhear their shipmates talk about the book hypothesis, they still think to possess historical seamen.

“So this is it… our first whale”, Daniel muses. “And whoever’s historic partner was capable of spearing one, will be able to do so now.”

“You and me could do it in the future, too”, Chris claims, and rightfully so. “But the thought of entrusting our boats to Gavin and Rika doesn’t sit well with me. Not AT ALL.”

“Haha, right! Gavin doesn’t belong behind a steering wheel, no matter what era” Tina laughs. “The first time I took Gav and Danny sailing, we crashed into the Adeline. It didn’t do the old girl any favors… Rika may have a point, after all.”

“So – you and me, Tina?” Daniel asks. “You take the rudder and I’ll stab the fishie?”

“Of course! Not even a question!”

Chris nods. They already know that something is fishy here. Simply NOT attacking the whale Pip has spotted doesn’t occur to them, but they can very well prepare for this battle in their own fashion.

“And I’ll pair up with Connor”, Chris announces. “I’ll be right back with him – don’t start without us!”

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“…white, with a dozen broken lances stuck to its body!” Pip describes the whale she has spotted. In the light of what the crew has just learned, that isn’t good news. Not at all. However, when Pip eagerly asks Hank whether this is the whale they are after, the Captain nods with grim determination.

“Blow on and split your spout, whale!” he hisses, then makes a gesture that encompasses his officers as well as Sigstein, the auxiliary. “The mad fiends themselves are after ye! Blow your trump—blister your lungs! Detroit’s finest will…”

“We’ll four-letter-word-gerund do nothing!” Gavin interrupts the speech.

But Hank is adamant: “Thy hour and thy harpoon are at hand!” he cries.

The words resonate in the whalers’ very bones. Their imagined bones. The scenario isn’t real, nor is the world it plays out in. But Hank Anderson’s Captain title is real and these men and women are used to following his orders blindly, because he has never let them astray.

This is wrong, Connor knows. They’re lowering the boats to row into their doom. After they have finally solved the riddle, this must not how their adventure ends! Alas, already Chris turns around, slowly at first, then with renewed vigor. Tina and Daniel are sitting in their boat already, harpoon and oars in hand. Rika is fiddling with some ropes and Sigstein nervously looks to the spot he is supposed to be now, but doesn’t want to…