Chapter 303: Layovers
Jones helped Coop aim the tip of his ethereal spear toward where they believed Empress City should be located relative to their shared position. The pair stood together atop the modified northern outer wall of Ghost Reef, at the highest point of the fort, above where the bat colony had relocated. Somehow, miniature dunes of fine sand managed to form gentle waves on the leeward side of the solid stone foundations, making the walls seem like they had risen straight out of the coral rock below.
Coop and Jones were doing their best to triangulate the perfect angle by squinting at the horizon and pointing into the distance, debating with each other about Coop’s mistjumps. Jones was feeling more pessimistic about Coop’s travel plans, but Coop was back to his unconcerned self, trusting that things would work out as long as he pushed forward.
Coop had spent an extra night in the settlement, unable to skip a shower and a trip to his bed when he was so close, after catching up with the alien residents and those of his friends that weren’t too busy with their own tasks. A tiny almost week-long nap had really thrown his sense of time for a loop. It seemed like he had just finished a major event, but somehow a bunch of days had come and gone, so he had to make do with a single night in his lighthouse before setting off. It was fine. That was all it took to restore his island vibe.
It was the morning of Day 171 in Earth’s assimilation, and he was embarking on a journey once again. He was preparing for another long period of travel, taking advantage of all the practice he had in the Underlayer to hopefully shorten the trip into more comfortable chunks. Thankfully, this time around, he was sticking to the surface, letting everyone else occupy the endless dirt plains of the underground. At least there would be some varied scenery for him to see as he went.
“You got the trajectory?” Jones confirmed, sounding particularly unsure about the plan.
Coop shrugged. “Don’t worry, old man. I’ll aim high.”
Jones shook his head, disappointed with Coop’s levity. “That’s what I’m afraid of. If you overshoot Florida and end up too far in the Atlantic, I don’t think even you could survive for long.” He added, rather morosely.
Coop wasn’t as worried. “Oh c’mon, if I end up swimming around for a while, I’ll make friends with a sea monster and bring it home.”
Jones scoffed. “As long as you can keep it fed, do whatever you want.” He responded, knowing when he couldn’t win.
“You need to aim fifteen degrees to your left if you don’t want me fishing you out of the drink.” Admiral Kayla interjected, causing both Jones and Coop to take heed and reignite an intense round of pointing and squinting, like two old men supervising a simple road repair.
Kayla, the queen of the pirates and siren of the seas was standing behind them both, with Sharkbait at her side, picking at her nails with a knife while watching them from the corner of her eye. Among those present, she was certainly the expert with regard to navigating the seas, but she let the guys have their debate.
“That look good?” Coop asked, adjusting ever so slightly to aim for a particular cloud in the distance that more or less marked the path he thought needed to follow. As long as the wind didn’t blow too much, the cloud seemed like as good a landmark as he was going to get.