Not twenty minutes later, the PA announcer said, “Leave your vehicle and enter the settlement. Welcome to Jubilee!”
When the guards lowered their rifles and left their posts, folks scrambled out of their cars, hurrying to get inside.
Joules snorted. “So much for a quarantine.”
I worried my bottom lip. “Maybe there’s another staging place.”
“I’ll go in with Joules.” Jack collected his crossbow, strapping it over his shoulder. “Kentarch, you stay here with Evie. Be ready to bug out.”
“Look.” I pointed out a woman with a kid among the newcomers. “They might know something we don’t.” I wasn’t confident on that score, but I didn’t want Jack going anywhere without me. “I’m coming with.”
He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, clearly weighing the risks. “Fine. Hood on. Bag on your back. And try to keep your head down.” He turned to Kentarch. “You keep ahold of her at all times. If we get separated, try to get back to the cave where we met up. That’ll be our BOL.” Bug-out location.
The Chariot nodded.
Once I’d covered my hair and donned my bug-out bag, Jack cast me a wary look. “Let’s all stay sharp in there.” He engaged the Beast’s security measures, and we hopped out onto the sandy shelf.
With Jack in the lead, Kentarch and me next in line, and Joules bringing up the rear, we entered Jubilee.
28
The other newcomers chattered and jostled excitedly, acting like they’d just won the lottery. As the fog shifted and the settlement came into view, I began to see why.
Lights and music greeted us inside the walls of a sprawling, sea-floor town. Along what looked like the main thoroughfare, ships sat on rusted cradles, some connected by metal rope bridges.
Shipping containers had been stacked high, with ladders clinging to the sides like climbing ivy. Laundry hung out to dry beside makeshift doors and windows. People lived in those tin cans?
At the foot of one container building was an open-air restaurant with sails for a roof. Food scents made me salivate.
Kentarch’s watchful gaze swept the area. “They’ve got fuel here. Lots of it.”
Jack nodded. “They must be working a derelict cruise ship or something. All the boats we passed on the shelf probably had supplies just for the taking.”
He’d once told me that folks often forgot to roll ships in dry dock. But these Jubileans had been savvy enough to head to this desolate place and hit all these wrecked vessels. A ballsy move.
Among the hundreds of residents we saw, many were smiling as they went about their business, and they waved when they passed each other.
I even spied a few females. I nudged Jack. “Women walk freely.”
“Means they got order here.”
Kentarch asked, “How are they enforcing it?”
“Good question.” Something was off with the residents, something I couldn’t put my finger on.
Then it hit me. Aside from the hazmat guys, no one was armed. No machetes or rifles or pistol holsters. Jack and Kentarch looked overaccessorized.
When we followed the main street to what must be a central square, vendors swarmed us. “Hot rice! Fresh off the Queen Mary!” “Spaghetti from the Carnival Sunshine!” “Canned tuna! The chicken of the sea from the Princess of the Seas.” “MREs from the USS Stryker.” One merchant had nothing but peach preserves and jars of olives. Another peddled liters of liquor.
Joules spun in a circle. “I haven’t seen this much grub in one place since the world went tits up.”
Jack raised a brow at a half-gallon bottle of Jack Daniels. “Mercy me.” Seeming to shake off his thirst, he asked a spaghetti vendor, “Who’s the boss around here?”
I pictured a militia type. With a big belly, jowls, and leering eyes.
“The Ciborium rules Jubilee and all the oceans.” He winked as he said, “One Ciborium in particular. You’ll see.”
One what? I raised a finger to correct this guy—Actually, Circe rules the oceans—but thought better of it.
The PA announcer chimed in once more: “Orientation begins now. Make your way toward the MSY Calices and gather in the square off the bow.”
Twelve or so official-looking men, all wearing red armbands, waved us forward along the main drag, past more container buildings. The men carried rifles with those wicked looking bayonets. I suspected the hazmat guys had done a wardrobe change.
At the end of the street a gigantic yacht sat on a cradle.
Kentarch said, “It must be lined up parallel to the very edge of the trench.”
Elevated platforms had been attached all around it. Ground spotlights lovingly illuminated the exterior.
The pristine vessel looked totally out of place among the other Flash-fried wrecks.
Jack narrowed his gaze. “Looks like something my father would’ve wanted.”
Even Mr. Radcliffe couldn’t have afforded a rock-star megayacht like that.
On the spacious front deck was a seashell throne worthy of the Priestess herself. Colorful pennants snapped in the breeze.
In addition to all of us new arrivals, a crowd was gathering. As we waited for the “orientation,” Kentarch kept close to my side, Jack standing on my other.
The armband guys filed out onto the deck. Were they the Ciborium? Of varying ages, they flanked the throne, but none of them sat in it.
A petite brunette in a fancy silver ball gown exited from the yacht’s interior, seeming to glide across the bow. She wore seahorse earrings and a seashell belt and had an unfocused, blissed-out look in her eyes. She was attractive in a soft way, like a stoned fashion model.
She gracefully took the throne. The leader of Jubilee was a she? A young she? The girl couldn’t have been much older than Jack.
When cheers broke out, I peered around. Most of the men in the audience looked as if they were in love with her.
She waved a fragile hand, and everyone fell silent. “Welcome, new Jubileans,” she said in a scarcely raised voice. Even the winds seemed to die down for her.
I wished Sol were here to experience the spectacle. The master of self-expression would’ve appreciated her themes. As would Circe.
“As many of you know, I am Lorraine Ciborium. My guards”—she indicated the armband guys—“are all Ciborium as well. Our family welcomes you to our settlement, a place of dreams. Whenever we have more bounty than we have hands to harvest, we signal to the old coast, to the faithful awaiting, and open our gates. You are the latest to receive the fortune of entry. Here there is no slavery, plague, or cannibalism. Here we salvage everything we could ever want. All good things flow to us.”
The armband guys and most of the crowd repeated, “All good things flow to us.”
Which sounded a little creepy. Still, I was psyched to see a woman leader. She’d have to be better than the ones we’d crossed swords with before.
Right?
Lorraine continued, “The Ciborium are on hand to help newcomers acclimate to life in Jubilee. Our currency is food and fuel. Aside from plenty to eat and warm fires for all, we have a restaurant to prepare feasts, tailors for new clothes, and machinists. We have religious officiants and a physician.”