Day of the Mission
This was the day, the day when the mission officially kicked off, Aiden's grand plan to replenish the dwindling resources. It was a make-or-break scenario for everyone involved, as the food supplies were running dangerously low, with nothing much left except for some trusty old flour.
From the crack of dawn, the navigators had been optimistic, claiming that the fishing prospects were looking up, and so the whole team embarked on their mission. But it seemed like luck just wasn't on their side that day. Despite their best efforts, they could only manage to snag a meager handful of fish.
Sweat poured from their brows, and fatigue weighed on their shoulders, a testament to the hours of back-breaking work they'd put in.
"Sir," Rukbat began, "This won't quite cut it for breakfast, and if the portions get any smaller, it'll hardly pass as lunch." She shook her head in dismay as she observed the meager catch in the net.
Aiden, puzzled by the disappointing haul, surveyed his surroundings. This was not at all what he had anticipated. Where had their calculations gone wrong? Aiden's thoughts raced. This was supposed to be the perfect time to reel in a bountiful catch of fish, so why were they coming up empty-handed?
"How's the mission going, Aiden?" The chief inquired, growing concerned after a long period of silence since morning. Aiden's expression was one of sheer devastation as he shook his head. Recognizing the gravity of the situation, the chief scanned the room and noticed that the entire team was slowly losing hope.
"This is bad," the chief muttered, his worry deepening.
Aiden sighed in frustration, his fingers running through his disheveled hair. "Our early morning strategy didn't yield any results," he explained, frustration tainting his voice. "I think I'll suggest a break for the team; they're exhausted, and it's nearly noon."
The chief nodded in agreement, watching as Aiden made his way towards the open deck to rally the team. From his vantage point by the sailor's window, the chief continued to monitor the situation closely.
"Hey team, let's huddle up!" Aiden's voice rang out, prompting the crew to slowly abandon their tools and gather in a group before him.
"It's a bummer that we didn't have a big catch today," he continued, his tone filled with understanding, "but we've all put in some hard work, and it's about time we refuel. It's already noon, so grab some grub, and after that, we'll switch up our game plan."
The team members nodded in agreement, and they dispersed to the mess hall to grab whatever remnants were available. Aiden wore a disappointed expression as he observed their faces. The supervisors and volunteers trudged wearily into the hall, carrying with them the meager stock they had managed to gather.
To add to the already somber mood the team was experiencing, the crowd that had gathered to watch them fish began engaging in some rather disheartening chatter. The older folks, in particular, were having a good laugh at the team's fishing attempts, despite being fully aware of the tough situation they were in. Furthermore, a few individuals didn't hold back from spouting off negative comments about how ineffective the volunteers were. All of this criticism didn't escape Aiden's ears.
Normally, Aiden was the poster child for cool and collected, renowned for his patience and slow-to-anger disposition. However, it seemed that this time, maybe the proverbial straw had broken the camel's back. He clenched his fists, visibly seething with anger, and appeared ready to either throw down his hands or engage in a fiery argument. The chief, who had witnessed the entire situation, swiftly moved in to back him up, but as fate would have it, someone else beat him to the punch.
"At least they have the decency to lend a helping hand during tough times, rather than idly sitting around, making snide remarks, and laughing at someone's hard-earned efforts, like all of you," Leah declared, asserting her presence as she stood beside Aiden, locking eyes with the people engaged in gossip.
"And with your snarky comments, you're lowering yourself, not them. At least they took action instead of expecting a free meal," she continued, her tone filled with conviction.
"You there, young lady. What do you -" the man attempted to say, but Aiden cut him off.
"Mind your manners," Aiden admonished.
"We're all well aware of the situation we're in, yet some of you act as if you're lounging in a five-star hotel. So, it's time to step up and lend a hand, or simply keep quiet," the speaker chastised. As the words hung in the air, the crowd left the area, their expressions simmering with frustration and muttered curses.
Aiden and Leah found themselves alone amidst the dispersing crowd. Leah turned to face Aiden, a look of concern in her eyes. "Aiden, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to interrupt you," she said, her voice apologetic.
Aiden offered a grateful nod, appreciative of her intervention. "Thank you," he replied, his tone tinged with relief.
Leah, still somewhat puzzled, inquired, "Huh?"
Aiden clarified with a wry smile, "I would've lost my cool back there, but you stepped in, and I appreciate you saving both him and me."
"You gave it your all, Aiden, don't lose hope," Leah said reassuringly, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder.
Aiden's gaze dropped to the ground; his spirit was crushed. "But it wasn't enough," he muttered despondently. "If things don't change by daybreak, I'm not sure if we'll even have enough to eat tomorrow," he said, his voice tinged with a sense of hopelessness.
Leah offered a comforting smile and gave Aiden's shoulder a gentle pat. "Maybe this time, try following the tide in the evening," she suggested. Aiden's mind whirred with thoughts. Was she dropping a hint? What if this approach failed too? Doubt crept into his thoughts.
"It'll work, you just have to believe it," Leah said, perceiving the uncertainty in Aiden's eyes. With those encouraging words, she headed indoors, and Aiden didn't try to stop her.
"Who was she?" the chief inquired, having overheard the brief exchange between Leah and Aiden. Aiden lost in his own reverie, muttered her name under his breath, his gaze steadfastly fixed on Leah's retreating form.
"Come on now, let's grab a bite to eat," the chief suggested, taking the lead and guiding Aiden indoors.
After grabbing a bite, the team, volunteers, and the chief assembled in their meeting room to discuss adjustments to their mission plans. Despite having just finished their meal, they all wore tired expressions as they exchanged glances.
"Don't lose heart; we need our team to stay strong," the chief encouraged, trying to lift the team's sagging spirits.
"I've got some good news for you all," their leader continued, instantly piquing everyone's interest. "I had a chat with the sailor yesterday, and he mentioned that we could reach the land in seven days, pushing ourselves to the limit with our remaining energy and fuel."
"Will we really make it to land in the next seven days?" Ralph inquired, a glimmer of hope dancing in his eyes.
"Absolutely, but there's a crucial hurdle we've got to clear first – making it through the next 7 days. If we can't secure enough food, we won't perish, but things could take a seriously grim turn. We're talking about hallucinations, mental confusion, or even temporary paralysis," the statement sent shivers down everyone's spine. Nobody was keen on experiencing any of that, that was for sure.
"So, it's pretty clear – our success hinges on whether we manage to catch something or not," the chief concluded.
"Don't you worry, chief. We'll give it another shot, and we ought to get cracking," Jeff chimed in with a determined tone. The chief shot a quick glance in Aiden's direction, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this discussion. It was clear he was wrestling with some thoughts, but why the silence?
"Alright, team, let's do this," Jeff rallied, his optimism infectious as they all set off on their mission.
"No," Aiden stated flatly.
Jeff and the entire team came to an abrupt halt, casting puzzled looks in Aiden's direction. Even the chief wore an expression of bewilderment, but his gaze held a touch of contemplation.
"I mean, it's just not practical. Our best shot is to follow the tides in the evening; that's when we'll have the most luck with our catch," Aiden elaborated.
"Well, Aiden, I don't want to sound harsh, but we followed your plan this morning, and look where it got us," Jeff pointed out.
Aiden nodded, understanding their skepticism. But he also shot a meaningful glance at the chief, who seemed to grasp something unspoken.
"All right," the chief finally spoke up, "the team will resume the mission in the evening. Until then, Aiden, you can do as you please." The team appeared taken aback, surprised that Aiden hadn't needed to put up a more convincing argument with the chief. Nevertheless, they went along with the decision. "Dismiss," the chief concluded, and with that, everyone dispersed to their respective rooms.
For the rest of the day, everyone on board kicked back, either catching up on some much-needed rest, shooting the breeze, or finding anything and everything to make the hours fly by.
Rukbat, while gazing out at the endless expanse of the sea before her, couldn't help but voice a thought that had been gnawing at her. "You know, it's kinda strange, isn't it? We're here in 2056, the supposed pinnacle of the digital age and progress, yet here we are, struggling to keep our heads above water. I always thought progress was supposed to make life a cakewalk," she mused. She was seated with a group of other ladies, and they all chimed in with a thoughtful hum of agreement.
It's funny how we used to instinctively reach for our phones, hunting for answers, and now this little gadget's just collecting dust. One of the girls had this somber expression as she gazed at her dead and useless phone, yet she clung onto it, hoping for that slim chance to revive it once they found a safer place.
Rukbat chimed in, reminiscing, "It brings to mind a saying I once stumbled upon in a book: 'Anything and everything you encounter in this world is fleeting.' It really hits home now." She continued, "Where I come from, we weren't allowed to meddle in worldly matters, and I always harbored this desire to see the universe." A hearty chuckle escaped her lips. "Guess my wish has been granted, in the oddest way possible."
You know, I've always had a strong aversion to colonization, but I can't help but be grateful in a strange way that it happened. Now, here we are, conversing in a common language," one of them remarked, eliciting a small chuckle from the group. But then, the hush settled in again, and they all just gazed out at the expansive sea as if staring at it would somehow make time fly by.
Rukbat shifted her gaze, taking in the mix of individuals on board. There were those in the prime of their lives, struggling to maintain composure and keep their chatter at bay. Then there were the kids, still carrying the weight of fear, clinging to their mothers. Their physical wounds may have healed, but what about the scars on their minds? Even if they find a safe haven on land, can they ever truly forget the six years of torment they've endured? Some people were attempting to hold it together, trying to be as composed as Sir Aiden, as Rukbat remembered him.
However, her eyes locked onto a particular face, someone who didn't seem to be trying to stay calm – she was genuinely calm.
It was that same girl, the one Rukbat thought she'd seen chatting with Aiden earlier this morning. She appeared to be Aiden's friend or something, given how Aiden had instantly relaxed when she rested her hand on his shoulder. That sight triggered a little twinge of jealousy deep within Rukbat. I mean, she'd been busting her hump working diligently under Aiden's guidance all this time, and here comes this girl, seemingly doing zilch, yet nabbing her spot. What gives?
Meanwhile, Leah was back at it, engrossed in her book, looking all content. Rukbat couldn't stand it one bit.
As the sun began its descent, the chief and his comrades gathered on the outer deck, summoning their volunteers. Everyone swiftly assumed their designated positions, poised to kick off their mission. Aiden, with a subtle sigh, gave a nod, signaling his readiness, and in turn, encouraging the others to proceed.
But just as they were on the verge of setting things in motion, a sudden voice pierced the air, putting their mission on hold.
"Wait," Leah exclaimed. Aiden hastily raised his hand, a gesture to halt the proceedings. He couldn't quite explain why he did it, but at that very moment, it just felt right. He turned to face her; a perplexed expression etched on his face. The chief and the other supervisors closed in around Leah, all sporting questioning looks on the outer deck.
"What's the matter, Leah?" Aiden inquired a hint of uncertainty in his expression, with numerous eyes fixed on him and Leah.
Leah surveyed her surroundings and then approached the chief with a resolute demeanor. "From what I can see, there's a chance of rain in a little while. We might want to hold off and wait for the rain before we make our move. When it rains, the fish tend to surface, and if we time it right, following the tide and casting our nets from the rear of the ship, we could get lucky," she elaborated, her explanation met with a mixture of confusion and stern gazes from the rest of the crew.
"Wait a sec," the chief questioned with a puzzled look on his face, "how can you be so sure it's gonna rain?" Aiden, looking a bit concerned, decided to head over to Leah, either to halt her or get some more information. He reached out and gently grabbed Leah's elbow, trying to slow her down, but she stood her ground, refusing to budge.
"I reckon, sir, we ought to keep on with the mission," Rukbat declared, her voice carrying a distinct bark. Leah, however, seemed to have her mind elsewhere, paying little heed to anyone as she gazed first at the sky and then out to the rolling waves of the sea. Finally, she turned her attention back to the chief.
The chief patiently awaited her response, clearly observing something in Leah that convinced him to grant her the floor for an explanation.
As Leah delved into her theory, she pointed out something quite intriguing. "If we take a closer look," she began, "we can see that the wind's speed has noticeably shifted. It's picked up, and as a result, the tides in the sea have surged higher." She gestured toward the restless waves crashing on the shore.
Leah wasn't finished; she was on a roll. "And notice the clouds," she continued, "they've transformed into these big, fluffy formations, which is a sure sign of increased humidity." She looked up at the sky, where the clouds had indeed adopted a puffier, more voluminous appearance. "All these changes, folks, lead me to believe that we're in for some rain."
As Leah shared her observations, everyone's eyes turned upward to the heavens and then out to the turbulent tides. It was hard to deny the evidence of the shifting winds and the transformed cloud patterns. But could they all buy into Leah's theory and wait it out for the impending rain? That, my friends, was a question that hung in the air, pondered by each person in attendance.
As the group pondered, their chief stood in contemplation, weighing the possibilities. However, before any decision could be made, an abrupt and rather impolite voice cut through the thoughtful silence.
"I don't know why we're even listening to her. We could just be wasting our time if we wait," Rukbat grumbled, her frustration evident. Her team members, including Antony, Rey, and the other girls who had better relationships with her, nodded in agreement.
"Birds," Leah chimed in, pointing towards the sky. The birds were in motion, likely headed toward the land, and they seemed to be moving in larger numbers.
"Huh," Aiden mused, his curiosity piqued by the sight.
"Birds and all other animals tend to seek shelter in the shade when there's a possibility of rain," she remarked, turning briefly to face Aiden before continuing. "While we can't spot any animals from here in the ship, it's quite remarkable to see this large flock of birds all heading in the same direction towards land. This strongly indicates that we're getting closer to land."
Leah paused momentarily, taking a deep breath before speaking softly, "This also suggests that the ship's speed has likely been increased, possibly last night or earlier this morning, I suppose." Her conclusion was met with surprised glances from everyone present. It appeared that the change in the ship's speed had gone unnoticed by most.
"I'm absolutely certain about this," she asserted, her gaze filled with unwavering determination as she looked first at the ship's chief and then at Aiden.
"Indeed, she's right," Victor chimed in, gesturing toward the looming dark clouds on the horizon. He was standing a little apart from the group, alongside Leah, who had a thoughtful expression as she listened to him. "I believe it might be best to hold off for a bit," he added, nodding affirmatively in Leah's direction.
For a brief moment, a heavy silence settled over the group as they collectively pondered their next course of action. However, it was the chief who broke the silence, clearing his throat to grab everyone's attention.
Taking note of what Leah had just spoken, he glanced at Aiden briefly, who still had a loose hold on Leah's elbow. "We will wait," he declared. It was the final decision everyone had been anxiously awaiting, and it elicited a medley of expressions from the assembled group.
Rukbat, accompanied by her fellow teammates, Aton and Rey, couldn't help but roll her eyes at the drawn-out deliberation and moved away from the open deck to find a more comfortable spot to sit.
Victor, on the other hand, genuinely appreciated Leah's knowledge and conveyed his gratitude with a pleased smile directed at both Leah and Aiden. The chief, who had been closely observing Aiden and Leah throughout the discussion, finally opened his mouth and voiced his question, "If you knew all of this five days ago, why didn't you volunteer to help sooner?"
"No one asked," she said calmly, her voice laced with an air of transparency. Her words hung in the air, her honesty undeniable. "I didn't know about this volunteering. I thought you all chose those people you trained yesterday."
Aiden, struck by a sudden realization, ran his fingers through his hair, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He chuckled briefly before responding, "It's my fault. I forgot to ask about it." The memory of their first conversation came flooding back, and he couldn't help but admit his oversight.
The chief nodded, his keen eye catching Aiden's grip on Leah, which had transformed into a more formal handhold. Leah, however, appeared nonchalant about this subtle intimacy, a fact not lost on the observant chief. "Since you're already lending us your hand, how 'bout you lead this mission?" he suggested. "But, naturally, we'd like one of us to accompany you."
His eyes briefly scanned the roster of his comrades, trying to determine the best team for Leah. "I think you should-," he began, only to be cut off by Aiden's assertive voice.
"I'll take her under my wing. After all, this mission is mine," Aiden interjected, interrupting the chief mid-sentence. Leah's emotions played out like a dance, her gaze flickering between Aiden and the chief, her expression a mingling of perplexity and intrigue.
"I understand the concern," the chief spoke, his voice carrying a note of authority, "but your team already boasts three members. In that case, I'll take her under my supervision."
His words earned a disapproving gaze from Aiden, whose eyebrows furrowed in silent protest.
Leah, determined and unyielding, spoke up, breaking the tension. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but as happy as I am to help everyone on board, I don't think it's necessary to assign someone a title," she said firmly, gently withdrawing her hands from Aiden's grasp.
Aiden caught off guard, and gazed at his own hand, now empty and slightly bewildered. He hadn't realized he was still holding her unintentionally.
"Though I'll be of help anytime if needed," Leah continued, her voice unwavering, "I refuse to be entitled to some kind of ranking. I prefer to be a mere refugee aboard this ship. Thank you, sir." The chief gave her a gentle nod and Leah left the room.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, orange glow on the sky, everyone aboard the ship gathered at the rear, just as Leah had suggested. The crew members displayed a myriad of emotions. Some wore expressions of curiosity, their eyes gleaming with wonder, while others exchanged confused glances. A few, however, harbored resentment towards the chief's decision to heed Leah's advice.
The ship's deck buzzed with activity as equipment was rearranged and the crew members divided themselves, each taking up their designated positions. Overhead, the sky played its part in this unfolding drama, painting the canvas with dark, ominous clouds that loomed directly above. An air of tension enveloped the crew, and they stood in anticipation, waiting for Leah to issue her next set of instructions.
Leah, however, remained an enigmatic figure, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on the vast expanse of the sea. As if in response to her silent command, the clouds grumbled ominously, and then, all at once, the sky wept. Soft, silvery droplets of rain began to fall, gently at first, and then with increasing intensity.
The tide grew more restless, and a brisk breeze ruffled everyone's clothing. Yet, inexplicably, Leah had not yet signaled for the net to be cast. The downpour showed no sign of abating, and the drenched crowd, desperate to stay dry, began to retreat into the sheltered areas of the ship.
Aiden, concerned, attempted to approach Leah, but the chief intervened, preventing him from reaching her side. Frustration mounted as the supervisors continued to shout and demand that the net be pulled up from the churning sea, but Leah remained silent, her eyes fixed on the sky, her face inscrutable.
As the waves grew taller and more tumultuous, a sudden glimmer of silver within the churning water seized the attention of all on board. It was the fishes, a massive school of them, moving in perfect harmony with the ebb and flow of the tides. The boat was jolted by the increasingly aggressive surges, prompting everyone to clutch desperately at the railings and any solid fixtures they could find for support. The number of fishes continued to surge, and it seemed as though they might well leap from the sea, such was their abundance in the narrowing confines of the net.
The net grew heavier with each passing moment, and all eyes turned to Leah, she looked like the fearless captain. She stood resolute, like a steadfast anchor, even as the ship pitched and swayed beneath her. A knowing smile played upon her lips, a testament to her unwavering confidence in the bounty that lay below. Her laughter rippled through the tense air before she raised her voice above the roiling sea.
"Pull the net!" she commanded her words cutting through the chaos. In an instant, a team of dedicated volunteers and skilled supervisors sprang into action, their hands working together to engage the massive lever. With the combined effort of those aboard, the weighty net, laden with the treasures of the sea, began its arduous ascent.
It took a bit of time, a symphony of heaving muscles and strained sinews, but as a collective, they triumphed over the tempestuous waves. With a final heave and a chorus of triumphant cheers, the net was drawn up from the depths.
As the crews and other individuals on board gazed upon the astonishing bounty of fish they'd hauled in, a resounding cheer erupted through the salty sea air. The net, heavy with its aquatic treasure, was carefully drawn up, and the fish were transferred to a large tank, filled with salty seawater to maintain their vitality and freshness for an extended period.
Leah's gaze swept across the elated faces of her shipmates, each one reveling in the success of their catch. A sense of contentment washed over her, knowing that their prospects of reaching land without the specter of starvation loomed larger on the horizon.
The chief offered an appreciative nod to his dedicated crew and Leah before retreating back into the shelter of the vessel. Volunteers and supervisors scurried indoors, seeking refuge from the impending deluge of heavy rain.
Out on the outer deck, only two souls remained - Aiden and Leah. Aiden turned to her with a warm smile, his eyes filled with a sense of amazement and admiration, and Leah couldn't help but return his smile, the connection between them unspoken but deeply felt.
Aiden extended his hand with a warm and welcoming gesture, inviting Leah to step inside. But just as she reached for his hand, an unexpected wave of dizziness washed over her, causing her vision to blur and making it nearly impossible to grasp Aiden's outstretched hand.
Leah's pallor turned ashen, and in that critical moment, Aiden relied on his quick instincts. Without hesitation, he swept in to catch her before she could crumple to the deck in a faint. Raindrops continued to pelt them from above as Aiden cradled her in his arms, a protective shield against the elements. He stole a brief, concerned look at her face, her features serene despite her unconsciousness.
With a careful and steady gait, Aiden lifted Leah into his arms, holding her in a bridal-style embrace, all the while mindful of the swaying ship beneath his feet. Her unconscious state didn't seem to trouble her; she appeared oddly tranquil and content in her slumber.
Aiden gently laid her on one of the infirmary beds, the sterile, white surroundings a stark contrast to the chaos of the storm outside. "You did well," he murmured softly, his words a quiet reassurance before he entrusted her to the care of another female passenger who would help her change into dry clothes before Victor, would soon tend to her and ensure she was on the path to recovery.