The Sail Weaver by Muffy Morrigan Page A

The sails … ” He stopped and coughed. “Of course, you know about the sails, sir! We have eighteen decks, nine of which are gun decks with a full sweep. We have a crew of twelve hundred.” Barrett opened a hatch and held it while Tristan stepped through into an elevator. “We have four main engines and thirty thrusters. The crew is housed primarily on the decks twelve through fifteen, the officers on deck sixteen, with the captain’s quarters directly below yours.”
    The elevator slid to a stop and Barrett stepped out, waiting for Tristan before he started down a corridor. He stopped in front of a large hatch and swung it open to reveal a huge greenhouse. “This is our farm, most of our foodstuffs are raised here. Very little is brought in, and once we are deep space sailing, everything will come from here. It also contributes eighty percent of our oxygen below decks, letting the Air Weavers focus on the open areas of the ship.”
    Tristan stepped into the vast compartment. Trees soared over his head, the scent of blossoms filled the air. Hydroponic tanks dangled from the ceiling, giving the place the feel of a jungle, vines and flowers intertwining to hide the walls in a mass of greenery. “The fruit is on a rotation?” he asked, spying a tree heavy with pears.
    “Yes, at least a third of the trees are always bearing.” Barrett trailed behind him. “We also have a collection of flowers and ornamental plants so there is some place green for the crew to visit.” The officer made a face. “Some people didn’t think that was a good idea.”
    “It’s sound thinking, humankind needs green sometimes.”
    “Thank you!” Barrett said, beaming.
    “I should warn you that dragons occasionally like greenery.” Tristan smiled. “And grapefruit.”
    “We have several grapefruit trees.”
    “I will make sure he leaves a few.”
    “They are the captain’s favorite.” The officer was looking at him with a glint in his eye, as if he were testing the waters.
    “I’ll tell Fenfyr to take as many as he wants.”
    “Very good, sir,” Barrett said, nodding smartly before turning to lead the way out.
    “Mr. Barrett?”
    “Sir?”
    A hail suddenly broke the quiet. “First Officer Barrett report to the quarterdeck.”
    Barrett pulled a small phone out of his pocket. “I am escorting the Weaver on a tour of the ship.”
    “The… T he captain says you must come, sir,” a voice stammered.
    “I am with the Weaver, Riggan.”
    “I don’t care who you are with,” Stemmer’s shout blasted out. “Get up here now.”
    “Sir … ” Barrett glanced at Tristan.
    “You are dismissed, Mr. Barrett,” Tristan said with a smile.
    The officer nodded his thanks and walked quickly out of the compartment, leaving the hatch ajar as he exited. Tristan watched him thoughtfully.
    “There will be trouble with the captain,” Fenfyr rumbled, coming up behind him.
    “I think so.”
    “We’ll handle it, Tris,” the dragon assured him.
    “It’s not going to be easy.”
    “It never is.” Fenfyr laughed, a gust of grapefruit-scented breath washing over Tristan. “It never is.”
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    VIII
     
    The crew was busy on deck, some of them high up on the plating that covered the ship until the sails were raised. Tristan tried to imagine how it would look with the ugly plates gone and the massive sweep of sails and stars over his head. It was still hard to believe that there would be nothing but a spell between the crew and death in deep space. Even Tristan had been unnerved the first time he’d sailed and the massive plates gave way to the vastness of space.
    “We had a jumper on my last ship, sir,” Barrett said, coming up silently beside him.
    “A jumper?” Tristan turned to him with a frown.
    “He actually climbed the plates as they were coming down, there was no way the Air Weavers could save him in time.” Barrett stared up at the massive dome over their heads. “It’s