Chosen Boat

"This seems like a terrible plan," Peter remarked, mostly to himself. 

"Well, I learned about terrible plans from the best," Mayra pulled on a rope. Despite putting all her weight into it, she was unable to make it taut the way it should be. 

With a heavy sigh, Peter joined her in pulling and securing the contraption to the stern of the ship. 

"Women aren't supposed to be on ships at all," He grunted, tying off the end of the rope. 

The boat they were on was smaller than the larger fishing vessels, made for speed and powered by oarsmen in addition to the sails.

The crew was smaller and the ship itself shallower. It was currently resting against the beach, not yet ready for its risky mission. 

"That's for when they're going to other worlds. Since we're staying FIRMLY in this one, it doesn't matter a bit whether I'm aboard or not," She said flippantly. 

"Then why don't you go ashore and wait to see if your crazy plan falls apart or not?" He asked.

"Because suspense is terrible, and because it's my idea." Mayra glared at him. 

"And because you've always wanted to go on a ship and this dangerous plan seemed like an ideal opportunity for you to live out your dream of dying at sea." Peter lowered his voice to avoid being overheard by the Cetoan crewmen preparing to set sail. 

"I don't plan on dying, Peter," She rolled her eyes. "It's going to work, and you're going to be so impressed. I've prepared your apology speech in my head if you'd like to hear it. It starts out 'Oh, Awesome Mayra, I was so wrong for doubting you! Your cleverness knows no bounds and I, a humble mortal, can only ask to bask in the magnificence of your–"

"Sure, that's fine, I'll make the speech," Peter huffed. "If it works and if everyone survives the attempt. Actually, I take that back. If everyone survives, I'll already be sufficiently impressed. This seems insanely dangerous." 

"Agreed," Her eyes sparkled. "I hope that you brought extra water to drink. The speech is fairly long and groveling, so you'll need to be well hydrated for it." 

"I worry you're not taking this seriously enough," Peter cut in. 

Mayra took a moment to face Peter fully and look up into his eyes. "You're taking it seriously enough for everyone. I'm trying to remain upbeat because it's my plan. If I went around looking as grim as you, nobody would have any hope that it would work. They'd give up. Think of the morale, Peter, and reconsider your doom-faced assessment of the best plan we have. Cora wouldn't have agreed if anyone else had one better." 

He couldn't argue with that. He certainly didn't want the Cetoans to starve over the winter with no fish to catch. This task was important. He grimaced. He'd mistaken Mayra's joviality for flippance. He hadn't considered the morale of the Cetoans looking for hope. 

"I just want you to be safe," He said after a few moments. 

"I will be, if all goes well," Mayra smiled at him and pointed up at a flag. "The wind is strong today. We'll outrun things as long as we need to." 

"I'm not so sure about that," Riley said, striding up from where he'd just jumped aboard at the bow. "Apparently the whales can go about twice as fast as the ship's top speed." 

"Even this one? Cora said it's the fastest one here," Mayra's face held a hint of concern for the first time. 

"The ships use wind. The whales use fins." Riley shrugged. 

"And oars. This ship uses oars," Mayra pointed, as if that would change what Riley was saying. 

"I'm only the messenger, Kid," Riley ruffled his younger sister's hair, aggravating her. 

"I'm not a kid! I'm a grown woman!" She insisted. "We'll just have to get more of a head start on the creatures than I planned." 

Her brow furrowed in silent calculation, causing Peter to sigh. 

"You've never even been to sea and you think you can plan all this?" He didn't want to kill her hope, but she needed to come back to realistic expectations for what was going to happen today. 

This would all very likely end badly. 

"Of course not. Cora and her advisors have planned the details. I'm merely the source of the idea. I'm sure they've thought all of this out and perfected it." Mayra took a deep breath and fixed a bright smile on her face. "It will work out beautifully." 

"Then you're not needed here." Peter looked to Riley for help. 

"He's right for once, you know," Riley tilted his head at the younger man. "You've never even been on a ship, Sis." 

"Cora said I could go, and I'm going. She even said she would come herself except that there's no one else in Ceto who can rule in Haf's absence." Mayra's voice became slightly petulant, and she sat very intentionally down on a bench near the rear of the vessel. "If you want me off this boat, you'll have to drag me, kicking and screaming." 

Peter and Riley looked at each other seriously for a moment in silent conversation. 

Riley squinted and tilted his head to one side and then the other with the corners of his mouth turned down, seriously considering the option. 

"And biting! You know how hard I can bite, Riley," Mayra warned. 

Peter's eyebrows shot up as Riley winced and one hand went to clasp his other forearm as if in memory of some past injury.

"That I do, little sister. However, now you're not a kid. You're a grown woman who would never engage in such behavior." He threw the words back at her, and she stubbornly stuck out her lower lip and moved her hands to grip the bench underneath her. 

"Do you really intend…?" Peter's question drifted off as both the others glanced at him.

He should stay out of the sibling battle of wills.

"What do YOU really intend?" Riley turned on his subordinate. "You think YOU can keep her safe? You want to be in charge of that little biting harpy?" 

Peter flinched at the sudden change in Riley's attitude. His commander was fully facing him now, and Peter almost missed the wink, hidden from Mayra, that betrayed the game her older brother was playing. 

"Sir, with respect, I–" Peter tried. 

"With RESPECT? The same way you've respected my sister with your unseemly behavior?" Riley demanded. 

"Now hold on a minute," Mayra interrupted, standing. "Riley you're–" 

"I'm what? Appropriately disciplining a subordinate? I should say so! Get ashore, soldier, and that's an order!" Riley pointed, and Peter gulped. "Go find a place on one of the trawling ships. You don't belong here within reach of my sister." 

Directly contradicting the older man was not in his best interests. He didn't understand what Riley was going for, but he obeyed. 

"Riley! What in the world?" Mayra cried out. 

"I don't want him anywhere near you. I can't order you around, but he's my direct report," Riley said. 

"What are you talking about? You've been the one rooting for him this whole time." Peter heard Mayra's voice drop into skepticism. 

"I've changed my mind. You can't hang around him anymore. I don't like it." The older man insisted. 

"You just said you can't order me around, and now you're trying?" Mayra's voice was tinged with irritation. 

"Peter! What are you still doing on board? Get to one of the other boats, now!" Riley called. 

"Just checking this rope before I go, Sir!" Peter called back. He knelt down to examine it, knowing that he had absolutely no idea what the rope's function was or what one would even check for when looking at it.

"Well get a move on! I want you on the most dangerous boat there is in this mission to teach you a lesson about skulking around my little sister. Find out which one's going to be in the middle, where all the action will be." 

"Riley." Mayra sighed. "We both know that's the safest ship, surrounded by the others, and that you want me to protest and follow Peter in defiance of your direct order. If you wanted me to be on a different ship, all you had to do was ask." 

"What are you talking about?" Riley asked. 

"Your ridiculous machinations. Your matchmaking is clumsy, your manipulations transparent, and the effort you're putting into all this is nothing short of laughable." Her criticism was falling on deaf ears as Peter snuck a look back and saw Riley's grin. 

"Well, luckily for me, it's working despite your unfair and harsh critiques of my masterful process." 

"I don't know what you mean." Mayra sighed as she moved forward to climb out of the boat and onto shore. 

"Well, despite my 'clumsiness' and 'transparency', I'm getting everything I planned. You're moving to the safer ship, Peter's in love with you–" 

"Riley!" She interrupted, shooting a startled glance at Peter, but Riley continued as if she'd never spoken. 

"--and you're in love with him. Everything's going according to my wishes."