Suzy and I climb aboard the ship. Joy is still asleep. Justin is still awake.
As we climb up the ramp, she points at the three very big cannons that are jutting out from the side.
I nod. “They are prepared for war,” I say.
We make it to the top and go on the deck.
Everything’s made out of wood: The floor of the deck, the railing, the cabin, the other cabin-looking thing next to the cabin, the stair leading up to the wheel, the wheel, and mast, and the crow’s nest far above it.
“My god,” she says. “This is where they live.”
“It’s where our granddaughter lives. Justin also lives back in Toronto with us.”
“This is no life for a little girl,” she says. “We have to talk to Justin. No more taking her to battle. No more fighting. She needs friends. She needs school. She needs… Is that a prison?”
She had just taken a few steps down the stairs through the door that’s next to Joy’s cabin.
I peek in. A few stairs wind sideways and lead to a long, narrow, darkish corridor with metal bars on each side. I can see some hands on some of the bars.
I pull back and put my hand on Suzy’s shoulder to pull her back as well.
She shakes her head. “A girl can’t live like this, Walt. She can’t live like this! We have to talk to Justin!”
I raise my hand. “We will. We will. But we don’t know anything about what they did before we arrived.”
Suzy’s still looking around in shock. “I was here before, with Justin, just a few hours ago. But I didn’t see all of this. I was just worried about your funeral.”
I nod. I’m not dead yet.
“I think we have a lot to learn about her life,” I say.
“Justin has a lot to learn about parenting!”
I’m not at all sure we know what kind of father he is yet. But we can definitely help. We just need to get over the shock of what this place is and the crazy life they’ve been living.
“Do not judge him too harshly,” a metallic voice says.
I almost jump.
I look around. On the other side of the mast, leaning against the stair that leads to the wheel, is a strange-looking robot. One that seemed to be taken from magazines from the 1920’s or 30’s. Actually, half a strange-looking robot.
His top half is leaning on the stair. His bottom half, clearly cut by a very sharp weapon, is lying on the ground, closer to the wheel.
“Oh my god!” Suzy gasps when she sees the robot. “Are you a bad guy? Are you a friend?”
The robot nods. “I am both. Let me explain.”
(To be continued…)