The Artifact by Peter Cawdron

Author:Peter Cawdron [Cawdron, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-14T16:00:00+00:00

Sunscreen

On their second day at sea, The Heart of Kisumu passes through the Bab al-Mandab Strait between Yemen at the tip of the Arabian peninsula and the obscure, tiny country of Djibouti, bordering Eritrea, Ethiopia and Somalia in North Africa. The waterway is barely fifteen kilometers wide, meaning both land masses can be seen from the bridge of the ship. It’s one of the rare places in the world where two entirely distinct continents can be seen at once.

Taylor lies on one of the deckchairs that have been bolted to the observation deck above the bridge of The Heart of Kisumu. In rough weather, this prevents them from being knocked off the five-story tall wheelhouse, but the downside is the chairs can’t be moved around. A roof extends above the stairwell leading up from the main corridor, but depending on the position of the sun, it only shades roughly half of the deck. A metal railing runs around the rooftop. What the Heart needs is a swimming pool, Taylor thinks, reclining on the chair with her legs out in front of her. Oily sunscreen glistens on her skin. With a cool breeze blowing, the sun feels glorious. There’s something therapeutic about sunbathing. From where she is, she can see both desert coastlines. The azure blue of the sea separates the barren, rocky shores. The water glistens like opals.

“Why do they call it the Red Sea?” a voice asks from behind her.

“Oh, hi,” Taylor says, turning side on to see O’Connor sitting on the deckchair next to her. “Ah, red means south?”

“South?”

“Yeah, the sea isn’t named after a color but rather a direction. Before they had a word for south, the ancients used colors for orientation. And as this sea lay south of the Mediterranean, it was called the Red Sea, meaning the sea to the south.”

“Well, that’s confusing.”

“Humans have always been confusing,” Taylor replies, smiling. “We’re a complicated species. As logical as we think the term south is, it’s no more or less logical than using a color. Both words are simply placeholders used to express an idea.”

“Do you think it understands us?”

“The artifact? I don’t know,” she replies. “Hell, we have a hard enough time understanding each other on this tiny water world we mistakenly call Earth. There are easily seven or eight thousand languages on this rock. That’s seven or eight thousand different words for south.”

“Yeah, that’s not confusing at all,” O’Connor says.

“Can you rub some sunscreen on my back?” she asks, sitting up and turning away from him. Taylor’s got her t-shirt draped over the back of the chair and her shorts rolled up to the top of her thighs. She chose her plain bra over the lacy one, so it looks more like a bikini top. Now it’s time to roll over and let the sun soak into her back.

“Sure,” he says, taking the tube from her and rubbing the cream on her neck. He works it into her shoulders and the muscles running over her collarbone.

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