The Sunrise was a fifty-year-old Tidewater bark, so-called for its double rudder, an innovation based on Tidewater’s belligerent history. If one of the rudders was blown away in combat, the other kept the vessel steerable. The Sunrise had had five rudders blown away and, as she sailed into Chesapeake Bay that bright August morning, neither of her rudders was more than five years old.

After the Package’s bacteria ate up the polluting parts of machines, ships sputtered to a halt, their cargoes decomposed, and their fuel was devoured. Mariners were forced to give up the sea or return to antique methods. The first decade, the Starving Time, was rough. But small wooden boats got built, old plans for larger vessels were dug out of libraries, and a thriving but primitive maritime trade was established under the Old School economists.

The fisheries recovered, the oyster banks recovered, seals and seabirds reclaimed the shores emptied by the Starving Time. Tidewater vessels quickly dominated the Chesapeake Bay trade and broke out into the Atlantic from Newfoundland to the Caribbean. They reached Bermuda and made contact there with ships from Europe, ten years before the Sunrise was built.

The inevitable conflicts over resources and trade ensued between the free lands of Tidewater, Nova, Fredericksburg, and the Eastern Shore. The Eastern Shore developed double-hulled vessels that were remarkably stable and fast, able to outrun the competition. Fredericksburg invested in guns. Tidewater’s shipwrights elected to invest in defensive measures.

The Sunrise was dropped into the water a generation after the Tidewater bark had settled into its traditional model. She had a thick hull, double rudders, and sturdy masts. She had survived the wars that resulted in a compact between the free lands against the Union of the Door and the inland Kingdom of Shenandoah. She had distinguished herself twenty years ago at the Battle of the Capes against the Union. She was now assigned by the Tidewater Congress to ply the Islands Trade (Bermuda, the Bahamas, and the Free Caribbean) and as a privateer against the Union.

She was not permitted to trade outside North America, but the Sunrise made good money and paid her men well.

∋∈

When the Sunrise made port at Yorktown, two of the men were very happy. Scaveland was a marine, tall and mustachioed, a rifleman and boarder for when the ship had “rough meetings” at sea. He had a land wife in Yorktown. Erisk was the ship’s carpenter, young and cute, and he always took liberty to go ashore for whatever woman would have him, in York or Norfolk or Williamsburg.

Another of the Sunrise men was nonchalant about the whole thing. Perhaps a bit bored. He was also a marine like Scaveland, not much of a rifleman but a tough boarder when things came to that. Good with a knife. Trankee was his name, a thickset man from the Eastern Shore who’d signed into service with Tidewater for the privateer money. He was the carpenter Erisk’s top mate at sea, in an open matelotage. On land, Erisk was free to go his own way and Trankee just enjoyed the free time to do business.

Trankee was sitting with a fourth member of the Sunrise crew—a navigator named Delaware Singh—in the Dancing Lady tavern. A plaque outside the place said it was once known as Nelson House, built centuries before the Package. Too old to be much affected by the Package and its pollution-eating bacteria. The older buildings fared best after the Package was released. Fewer plastics and toxic metals to be eaten.

The patrons of the Dancing Lady were mostly sailors, dockmen, and merchants, knotted in a swirling commerce in goods traded and captured. Tidewater men, Eastern Shoremen, Fredericksburgers, Novans, Albemarlers, Columbians, and Orange men all enjoying their profits. A few Roanoker and Shenandoan frontiersmen. The Old School financiers had set up a thriving economy in the free lands after the Starving Time, enabling people to fill their bellies and their pockets through the mix of differing peoples and interests. They had allied with the leaders of all the free lands of Virginia, and all of the free people of Virginia were gathered in the Dancing Lady, enjoying the fruits of that alliance.

A trio of Fredericksburger traders in the corner were singing some rock anthem from the United Times, other patrons tossing coins and bank bills at them in drunken enthusiasm. The refrain began with “more than a feeling,” which accurately described the mood in the Dancing Lady.

Trankee was eating grilled lamb and drinking a Free Georgia ale from beyond the Union lands. Delaware was eating a peanut-potato salad and drinking Orange wine. He was staring a little too hard into his wine for Trankee’s smooth mood. But, Trankee knew Delaware’s troubles. The navigator was in an open matelotage with the marine Scaveland, who was out in town with his land wife.

“We’ll only be in York three days,” Trankee said, “at most. After the goods are offloaded, and the skipper has a box of gold onboard, we’ll be off again to the Bahamas or Bermuda. Looking for spices and rum and prizes. And, old Scavvy will be at sea with you again.”

Delaware looked up at Trankee with a curious squint. It was clear he didn’t understand the other man’s calm and confidence. Trankee’s mate, Erisk, was also in town with some woman. Why didn’t Trankee care? Delaware shook his head in some internal resolution.

“We sold a lot of guns today,” he said. “All of them headed up to Orange.”

Trankee nodded with a grin, and took a drink from his ale. The resolution had been to deflect from the uncomfortable topic.

Delaware swished his wine. “You have a brother in Orange? The men say you have an interest there.”

“The men?”

“The tradesmen,” Delaware said. He realized Trankee might not know them, being a marine. The marines were a pretty tight bunch. He only knew Trankee through Scaveland. “Me and Erisk. The surgeon Harry, the quartermaster Lu, and the cook Rusinov.”

“I do have an interest,” Trankee said, offhandedly. “Severide, my eldest brother of six. I’m the youngest, which is why I’m doing this shit job. But, I make sure I keep my name in Severide’s head by sending as much booty as I can his way.”

“That’s smart,” Delaware said. His face said he meant it.

Trankee nodded. “The skipper’s been pretty cool about letting me send captured stuff up to Orange. New England’s losses are my gain. And Carolina’s losses.”

“The Union’s losses in both cases.”

Trankee nodded. “To north and south. Fuck ’em.” He downed his ale as a punctuation.

“He’s a big man in Orange?” Delaware said over his wine. “Your brother.”

“Oh yeah,” Trankee said. “A lieutenant in the Orange Company, under one of their family’s own captains. Well married into the Truslows. He might get me a nice, little plantation for my retirement. They’ve taken a lot of land from their neighbors, still waiting to be dished out to loyal allies.”

Delaware was impressed. Trankee was clearly a man who knew what he wanted and was making it happen.

“We all have to think of what comes after,” Delaware said.

Trankee looked at him like he’d said something absurd.

“Of course,” the man said. “Why would anyone not think ahead?”

“I’m sorry,” Delaware said. “I’m just a little anxious.”

Trankee nodded. He stared at his empty mug, set it on the table.

“Your Scavvy is out, plying the straight trade.”

There was an implied insult in that, but Delaware accepted Trankee’s different position. Trankee was Erisk’s top mate.

“It’s not the same for me,” Delaware said.

“No,” Trankee said, “it’s not.”

Both of them breathed for a moment. The singing Fredericksburgers finished up, in perfect harmony. Mary Ann walked way and so did the trio’s drunken audience.

“Look,” Trankee said, “I get why you’re anxious about Scaveland having liberty at port. For him, you’re a convenience at sea.”

Delaware felt his shoulders sink. He wanted to refill his half-empty glass, but couldn’t muster the strength to lift it to the server.

“Look,” Trankee repeated, trying again. “I know I’m in a different position from you.”

Delaware looked up at Trankee and was surprised to find his own glass approaching his mouth. He took a drink of wine and nodded Trankee to go on. Trankee winked.

“You and I are confirmed matelots, while Erisk and Scaveland are both playing either side, but in different directions. So, you and I aren’t exactly the same, Delly.”

Delaware sat back, letting his glass rest on the table as a signal that he was open to whatever Trankee wanted to say. He felt his mouth shaking. He was terrified of Trankee’s bluntness, but he also knew he needed it.

“Look,” Trankee said a third time. “I’m fine with Erisk plying the straight trade because, unlike you, I’m not competing with whoever he shoves his little cock into.”

Delaware shook his head to disguise his eyes squinting against tears. Scaveland was replacing him that night in York. He felt himself grow angry, wanting to bite back at Trankee.

“But, he’ll likely choose a land wife when he retires,” he said, “just like Scavvy.”

Trankee mugged a fake scowl and nodded.

“You’re probably right. One of them will snare him in a mirage of his purity. Because, he almost certainly lies to them about what goes on at sea. And, good on him, if it makes him happy. But, in the meantime, I’ll enjoy my play with him.”

Delaware understood this. Trankee was not in his position. But, still in a position with no clear ending.

“What then?” Delaware asked.

Trankee slid his empty mug back-and-forth and frowned, considering it.

“I guess I’ll settle down with a mate who’s sure of his place.”

Delaware felt the air leave his lungs. He struggled to look up at Trankee and found himself blinking.

Trankee waved casually toward a server and pointed at his mug and Delaware’s glass. When the server waved at him, he nodded and pointed at his mug again, for emphasis. He was in charge. Delaware felt a sudden admiration for him, both as a confident mate and a marine who was known for his kill count.

“What do you have planned for retirement?” Trankee asked, offhandedly. “Because, you should have a plan.”

Delaware swallowed. He had no plan. He was already relying on Trankee to refill his glass.

“I suppose,” he said, “I would want the same as you. A mate who knows his place.”

The server appeared with two bottles. Trankee studied Delaware as she poured. The marine’s stare made him uncomfortable.

“You should go to Orange,” he said as the server strutted away with a futile glance over her shoulder.

Delaware blinked at him, then stared into his wine. “They’re Muslims, yeah?”

Trankee waved his hand in the air and scooped up his ale. “Fayruzis, not like the Sunnis here in Tidewater.”

“I…” he said, “I don’t know much about them.”

Trankee nodded with the mug pouring ale into his mouth. He set the mug down and brushed his mouth with a forearm.

“You’re a Tidewater man to the core,” he said. “Like my brother Severide. He was mostly raised before we moved to the Eastern Shore. Not that Shore men know any more about the inlanders. Fayruzis don’t care what goes on in Orange so long as everyone pays the taxes that keep the mosques running and don’t do business on Fridays.”

“Really?”

Trankee nodded and pointed at the untouched wine glass. Delaware picked it up and took a drink.

“Yeah, he’s still a Lutheran. Goes to church, alone, every Sunday. He just had to promise his wife Selda she could raise the kids Muslim.”

Delaware set his glass down.

“Does he know?”

Trankee wrapped his hand around the mug, ignoring the handle.

“Oh yeah. He figured that out when we was kids. He caught me kissing one of the other Chincoteague Militia scouts.”

Delaware nodded. “He’s a Tidewater guy. He knows about mates.”

Trankee chuckled and took a deep drink.

“You’d be surprised how uptight the Lutherans, even Tidewater Lutherans, can be. But Severide is cool. He knows my plans. And he assured me the Truslows don’t care about what goes on inside the house so long as the field makes food.”

Delaware took an impulsive drink, set his glass down, and stared at it.

“I don’t know what I’d do there,” he said. “I’m a navigator.”

Trankee shook his head. He was frustrated.

“I want to say something,” he said. “And then, I want to finish my drink in silence and head back to my bed.”

Delaware nodded with his eyes closed. As if in mockery, the Fredericksburgers started singing another antique rock anthem. It started with “I know you like it hot.” Several of the Dancing Lady’s patrons walked out with disgusted looks.

Trankee took a long sip, set the mug down, and pointed at Delaware.

“You know the stars.”

Delaware sat back with a dumb face.

“I am a navigator,” he said. “I know stars, shoals, coastlines, compass directions, winds…”

“You know the stars,” Trankee repeated. “And, it just so happens that the Orange men are obsessed with the stars.”

Delaware cocked his head to one side and picked up his glass.

“They are?”

“They are,” Trankee said with a nod. “Their first couple, Taylor and Fayruz, had a kid Kevin who was a bit of a nerd. It’s a legend there. Severide told me all about it. Jeddy Taylor told him to read up on ancient cultures, you know, to learn how people did things before civilization so they could figure out how to set stuff up after it all fell apart. Kevin got into agriculture, then how the stars marked the seasons, then what the stars meant to our ancestors beyond just planting and harvesting.”

Delaware shook his head.

“I don’t know what any of that means.”

“But,” Trankee said, “you know the stars. And the constellations and all that shit. Astrology.”

“I do,” he admitted. “I mean, I know the sun is moving into Sagittarius from Scorpio, astrologically. Not astronomically. Not sure how that helps.”

“They take that very seriously in Orange. Jeddy Ridvan takes it very seriously.”

Delaware nodded. Even the most insulated Tidewater man knew Jeddy Ridvan was the chief elder of Orange. Only no longer leading the country because he was a widower, and Orange required a leading couple.

“You think I could be—” He swirled his wine, lifted it to his mouth, and tried to down it. He failed, two fingers short.

“You think he’d want an apprentice who knows the stars?”

Trankee shrugged.

“I think he’d appreciation an immigrant who knows the stars and is willing to apply knew meaning to them.”

He lifted his mug and downed it. He slammed it on the table, which made Delaware cringe, and lifted a finger to his lips.

“Shhh,” he hushed, standing. He pointed at the two fingers remaining in Delaware’s glass. Delaware nodded.

Trankee stepped around the table and made his way to the door of the Dancing Lady. The Fredericksburgers, and many of the other remaining patrons, were chanting: “We are defenders of the faith.”

Delaware stared at his glass. He no longer cared about Scaveland and his land wife. Trankee had shown him a way forward. Make a plan, find a mate, move to Orange to study under Jeddy Ridvan. Or maybe not in that order. Make a plan, move to Orange, find a mate.

Either way, make a plan first. The first part of that plan was one more patrol as the navigator of the Sunrise. Break things off with Scaveland, put together some resources. That last part was easy. He had put away plenty of gold. He had nothing, and nobody, to spend it on.