16: Road Trip
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
"How about now?"
The petty officer took a few steps backwards, admiring his detail's handywork, before looking down at the binder of photos cradled in her hands. After a few seconds of leafing through the binder, and to the Wo Class's growing consternation, she gave her head a decisive shake.
"Hey, hey hey."
Trinitite suppressed a groan, glaring at the fairy as she puckered her lips. When the Aircraft Carrier had asked her paint-and-chip detail to apply the cosmetics she'd commandeered, the Wo-class hadn't expected to spend two hours lying face-up in a ditch. The perfectionist little bastards would spend a good minute experimenting with one product, seeing what it did to one of her hands, before removing it with a fire hose and trying to apply it to the Wo-class's growing disguise.
As a Carrier who'd spent the majority of her time guarding convoys, Trinitite considered herself a patient ship. Lying down for a few hours wouldn't normally be an issue for her. The paint-and-chip detail was learning a new skill, after all, and the rest of her crew had time to perform more repairs, but this was the fourth time they'd asked her to do this. She just needed red lips! They couldn't mess it up that badly, could they?
Once again, two of her crew hoisted the container of lipstick, a third popping removing the cap and darting to the side. Resting the container on their shoulders, the two eased forward, dragging the product across Trinitite's mouth. Again.
"Are you done?" The frustrated Wo queried as the two withdrew. The seconds dragged on as the fairy studied Trinititie's face, before he finally nodded.
"Hey."
"Thank the deep."
Trinitite stayed in place for just long enough for her crew to reboard, before hopping back onto her feet. She needed to shake herself of a few dry needles, but the grass she'd found in a forest clearing ensured her clothes weren't too dirty. Her skin, however?
She couldn't be sure. Peering into a nearby pond revealed a… tan face, but a nearby brook left the surface of the pond in just enough turmoil that the Abyssal couldn't get a good reflection.
She'd have to trust them. If they spent more than an hour on just her face, they had to have done a good job, right?
She could check later. Some of the food she'd picked up in last night's raid had a reflective enough container, and the vehicle she'd stepped into had plenty mirrors to get a good look.
More importantly, she needed to recover her bearings. The ride she'd gotten last night was useful, but it left her a little unsure as to where exactly she'd been left. The "road map," a collection of more detailed charts in a fairly large book, was secure in her chartroom, but with the lights in her island out she couldn't get a read on it during the ride the State Trooper gave her.
The cloud system she'd followed into The States had finally passed on, leaving the sun to batter her skin and flood into flight control. Still, The Abyssal's chart room remained aphoticly dark. Trinitite's disguise was proving more inconvenient than she thought. Some battle lanterns would solve the problem, but at this point…
A short request left the road map in her hands, the sun allowing Trinitite a better view than any flashlight would. Let's see, when Trinitite had been picked up, she'd been… here.
Shelton.
From there, the State Trooper had driven largely south-east, on this road labeled 101. That road lead to, uh…
The carrier turned the page. No road 101. She turned to the page before it. No road 101. The carrier flipped back to the front of the book, to a map which displayed all of… Washington, the title said. Wasn't she in the United States?
Ahh, 'States.' Plural. She'd have to look into getting more of these 'Road maps' in the future.
Trinitite placed her finger at her last known position, flipping back to the map she'd started at. So far, so good. That would mean she'd gone through the map on this page, then this one.
Road 101 abruptly turned south and split in Olympia. Trinititite didn't remember the Trooper's vehicle doing any abrupt moves northwest or directly south, so she must be near there. After that, she took a nap in that patch of trees, before moving out of the town as dawn approached. That would put her… Somewhere southwest of Olympia?
Well, she had a rough bearing. She could walk until she ran back into a highway, then check her map. At that point, she could follow the highway to the major port she'd spotted on her charts.
"Seattle..."
Situated deep in Puget Sound, the city was an amazing anchorage. However, looking more at the map Trinitite could pick out seven or eight other towns that would be good candidates for a search. Who knew which ports the Navy had set up in? Would she have to check all of them?
Several of these candidates where to the west of her, however, and doubling back into the military's search area didn't seem like a particularly good idea. Maybe, if Trinitite couldn't find her princess in other US ports and her enemy had been given the time to focus on other matters, she'd return there for a more thorough look.
Should she be heading to Seattle at all, or go to a farther port?
Trinitite shook her head, folding her map back up and starting northwest. Her recent raid had gotten her plenty of supplies to recon Seattle, but it certainly wasn't infinite. If she was in Puget Sound that that city would be the best to check, and if she detoured Trinitite knew the possibility would eventually become unbearable.
How long was that going to take? The Abyssal hadn't been able to put much thought into it when she was attempting landfall, but it had taken her four days to cross 80, maybe 90 miles, and a portion of that was with assistance from a ground vehicle. Trinitite was used to distances like that taking three hours to cover, at worst. She never thought this would be easy, but Trinitite's mission was growing increasingly daunting.
With a grunt, the carrier pulled a can of beans from her inventory, tossing the tin can a good foot into the air before catching it again. The sun filtering through the trees caught the metal lid for just a moment, sending a concentrated beam into Trinitite's bridge. The Abyssal flinched, allowing the food to tumble into the grass below.
The carrier tightened her jaw, scooping up the can of food and tearing the lid off with her teeth. Complications were going to happen, new information would force her to reassess, and her plans were going to flounder more often than not, but she would keep going. It wasn't like she could give up, even if she wanted to.
CFS Trinitite leaned back, allowing cool mix of salted meat and… something to pour down her mouth. Unless she was sunk- no, destroyed, as sinking into the soil she was standing would be impressive- no distance, fleet, or power above and below water would dissuade her. It might take a month, it might take a year, but Trinitite would find her Princess. She had nothing else to do, after all.
- - -
"Does that actually work?"
The human on the side of the road hadn't grabbed Trinitite's attention, at first. Like many of the humans she'd seen while traveling through Olympia, a spattering of short hairs dotted his chin and cheeks, while the hair that did poke out from his maroon hat was short and regular. A loose coat, presumably for the rain, was tied around his waist. If not for the sign the man held in front of him, he would have gone unnoticed.
NEED GAS TO REACH FAMILY. ANY MONEY HELPS.
Trinitite had been trying to act inconspicuous. The Carrier stuck to the side of the roads like the other humans, crossed at the designated areas everyone seemed to be using, and had managed to avoid talking to anybody until now. However, the man's sign had baffled the abyssal so thoroughly she couldn't keep to herself. You could just ask for money? What did people expect in return?
The human had sparred Trinitite a glance before she'd spoken, giving the Abyssal a polite smile, but was looking elsewhere when she asked the question.
"I'm not sure." He shrugged. "You got anything that can help?"
Trinitite shook her head. She wasn't giving the man any of her food, but if she did, could he use that to trade for money? Now wasn't the time to think about that, but...
The maroon hat he was wearing came off, and the human wiped his brow. "Yeah, I thought so. So far? It's been two hours and no luck." He replaced his cap, sending Trinitite a thin smile. "If you needed money, I'd suggest getting a loan from your parents."
'Parents?' As in, more than one? How did that work? Of course, she wasn't going to voice her concerns here, but she made a mental note to investigate that in the future.
Instead, the Carrier replied with a non-committal "Ah."
That should have been the end of it. She'd learned what she'd wanted, and interacting with the human had been a bit of a risk. Before she could leave, however, the human just had to keep talking.
"So how's your day been?"
The Abyssal froze. She was supposed to keep talking? How were you supposed to answer that?
"I've, uh… It's been normal?"
Yeah, normal. Average, like any other human's day.
The response seemed to work well enough, as the man nodded.
"Take care, then!"
She wasn't sure what to say, but she'd already started walking away. How did you end a conversation with a human? 'Fair Seas?' 'Good luck?'
Yeah, that one should work. She'd turned to tell the man that, but by that point she'd already put too much distance between the two. The embarrassed carrier had to settle for a simple nod.
Not the best way to end a conversation, but She would get better. Trinitite could still remember when her crew couldn't even work her boilers properly. Learning how to talk to people couldn't be that hard.
- - -
She was listening to human's transmissions again. When the Carrier had first thought to do so, she'd felt a muted sense of dread, but Trinitite could only watch so many cars passing her before her morbid curiosity reasserted itself.
"Some folk dances from Hungary, arranged for orchestra. This was Slovácko Verbuňk, performed by the Hungarian National Philharmonic."
With how far she'd gotten, several of the transmitters she'd originally listened in on had passed out of range, while a new set of transmitters had entered into her range. Just as well, she hadn't been impressed with the last set. The same could be said about the new radio stations, with one exception.
"Up next, we have a much slower but perhaps more recognizable piece: Antonín Dvořák's Largo, from his New World Symphony."
This frequency was starting to grow on her. Advertisements weren't an assault of noise and shouting, but instead simple thanks for people who helped keep the transmission going. The music wasn't interrupted by somebody shouting about love, scary hotels that trap you inside forever, or whatever other nonsense the Abyssal couldn't extract meaning from, no matter how much she wasted time contemplating it.
With nothing to distract her beyond the passing cars and music, Trinitite found herself focusing on her radio as she walked. She didn't know humans well, at all, but she couldn't help but feel for whomever built this music. Now that she wasn't trying to figure out what someone was trying to say, she could tell the sound itself was conveying something deeper. There was a meaning there, a sense of wonder, maybe? The abyssal could only guess as to the creator's true meaning, but she could certainly find her own.
Contemplating the piece was pleasant, until the roar of jet engines reminded Trinitite of her situation. A military aircraft roared over her head, so low the Carrier could count the individual bombs slung under its wings. Deep, there were a lot of them, and was that thing on the front a gun?
The flying cross would only be moving that low and slow if it was trying to land.
That meant a lot of things, each of varying importance to the Abyssal: The aircraft she'd seen a few days earlier must also have been loaded like this, meaning they certainly had been looking for her.
More importantly, though, was that anywhere something like that wanted to land wasn't where she wanted to be. The Abyssal adjusted her speed, her inconspicuous walk becoming a brisk jog.
Sure, she was disguised, but cruising this close to an enemy airbase? Best not to test her luck by lingering.
The petty officer took a few steps backwards, admiring his detail's handywork, before looking down at the binder of photos cradled in her hands. After a few seconds of leafing through the binder, and to the Wo Class's growing consternation, she gave her head a decisive shake.
"Hey, hey hey."
Trinitite suppressed a groan, glaring at the fairy as she puckered her lips. When the Aircraft Carrier had asked her paint-and-chip detail to apply the cosmetics she'd commandeered, the Wo-class hadn't expected to spend two hours lying face-up in a ditch. The perfectionist little bastards would spend a good minute experimenting with one product, seeing what it did to one of her hands, before removing it with a fire hose and trying to apply it to the Wo-class's growing disguise.
As a Carrier who'd spent the majority of her time guarding convoys, Trinitite considered herself a patient ship. Lying down for a few hours wouldn't normally be an issue for her. The paint-and-chip detail was learning a new skill, after all, and the rest of her crew had time to perform more repairs, but this was the fourth time they'd asked her to do this. She just needed red lips! They couldn't mess it up that badly, could they?
Once again, two of her crew hoisted the container of lipstick, a third popping removing the cap and darting to the side. Resting the container on their shoulders, the two eased forward, dragging the product across Trinitite's mouth. Again.
"Are you done?" The frustrated Wo queried as the two withdrew. The seconds dragged on as the fairy studied Trinititie's face, before he finally nodded.
"Hey."
"Thank the deep."
Trinitite stayed in place for just long enough for her crew to reboard, before hopping back onto her feet. She needed to shake herself of a few dry needles, but the grass she'd found in a forest clearing ensured her clothes weren't too dirty. Her skin, however?
She couldn't be sure. Peering into a nearby pond revealed a… tan face, but a nearby brook left the surface of the pond in just enough turmoil that the Abyssal couldn't get a good reflection.
She'd have to trust them. If they spent more than an hour on just her face, they had to have done a good job, right?
She could check later. Some of the food she'd picked up in last night's raid had a reflective enough container, and the vehicle she'd stepped into had plenty mirrors to get a good look.
More importantly, she needed to recover her bearings. The ride she'd gotten last night was useful, but it left her a little unsure as to where exactly she'd been left. The "road map," a collection of more detailed charts in a fairly large book, was secure in her chartroom, but with the lights in her island out she couldn't get a read on it during the ride the State Trooper gave her.
The cloud system she'd followed into The States had finally passed on, leaving the sun to batter her skin and flood into flight control. Still, The Abyssal's chart room remained aphoticly dark. Trinitite's disguise was proving more inconvenient than she thought. Some battle lanterns would solve the problem, but at this point…
A short request left the road map in her hands, the sun allowing Trinitite a better view than any flashlight would. Let's see, when Trinitite had been picked up, she'd been… here.
Shelton.
From there, the State Trooper had driven largely south-east, on this road labeled 101. That road lead to, uh…
The carrier turned the page. No road 101. She turned to the page before it. No road 101. The carrier flipped back to the front of the book, to a map which displayed all of… Washington, the title said. Wasn't she in the United States?
Ahh, 'States.' Plural. She'd have to look into getting more of these 'Road maps' in the future.
Trinitite placed her finger at her last known position, flipping back to the map she'd started at. So far, so good. That would mean she'd gone through the map on this page, then this one.
Road 101 abruptly turned south and split in Olympia. Trinititite didn't remember the Trooper's vehicle doing any abrupt moves northwest or directly south, so she must be near there. After that, she took a nap in that patch of trees, before moving out of the town as dawn approached. That would put her… Somewhere southwest of Olympia?
Well, she had a rough bearing. She could walk until she ran back into a highway, then check her map. At that point, she could follow the highway to the major port she'd spotted on her charts.
"Seattle..."
Situated deep in Puget Sound, the city was an amazing anchorage. However, looking more at the map Trinitite could pick out seven or eight other towns that would be good candidates for a search. Who knew which ports the Navy had set up in? Would she have to check all of them?
Several of these candidates where to the west of her, however, and doubling back into the military's search area didn't seem like a particularly good idea. Maybe, if Trinitite couldn't find her princess in other US ports and her enemy had been given the time to focus on other matters, she'd return there for a more thorough look.
Should she be heading to Seattle at all, or go to a farther port?
Trinitite shook her head, folding her map back up and starting northwest. Her recent raid had gotten her plenty of supplies to recon Seattle, but it certainly wasn't infinite. If she was in Puget Sound that that city would be the best to check, and if she detoured Trinitite knew the possibility would eventually become unbearable.
How long was that going to take? The Abyssal hadn't been able to put much thought into it when she was attempting landfall, but it had taken her four days to cross 80, maybe 90 miles, and a portion of that was with assistance from a ground vehicle. Trinitite was used to distances like that taking three hours to cover, at worst. She never thought this would be easy, but Trinitite's mission was growing increasingly daunting.
With a grunt, the carrier pulled a can of beans from her inventory, tossing the tin can a good foot into the air before catching it again. The sun filtering through the trees caught the metal lid for just a moment, sending a concentrated beam into Trinitite's bridge. The Abyssal flinched, allowing the food to tumble into the grass below.
The carrier tightened her jaw, scooping up the can of food and tearing the lid off with her teeth. Complications were going to happen, new information would force her to reassess, and her plans were going to flounder more often than not, but she would keep going. It wasn't like she could give up, even if she wanted to.
CFS Trinitite leaned back, allowing cool mix of salted meat and… something to pour down her mouth. Unless she was sunk- no, destroyed, as sinking into the soil she was standing would be impressive- no distance, fleet, or power above and below water would dissuade her. It might take a month, it might take a year, but Trinitite would find her Princess. She had nothing else to do, after all.
- - -
"Does that actually work?"
The human on the side of the road hadn't grabbed Trinitite's attention, at first. Like many of the humans she'd seen while traveling through Olympia, a spattering of short hairs dotted his chin and cheeks, while the hair that did poke out from his maroon hat was short and regular. A loose coat, presumably for the rain, was tied around his waist. If not for the sign the man held in front of him, he would have gone unnoticed.
NEED GAS TO REACH FAMILY. ANY MONEY HELPS.
Trinitite had been trying to act inconspicuous. The Carrier stuck to the side of the roads like the other humans, crossed at the designated areas everyone seemed to be using, and had managed to avoid talking to anybody until now. However, the man's sign had baffled the abyssal so thoroughly she couldn't keep to herself. You could just ask for money? What did people expect in return?
The human had sparred Trinitite a glance before she'd spoken, giving the Abyssal a polite smile, but was looking elsewhere when she asked the question.
"I'm not sure." He shrugged. "You got anything that can help?"
Trinitite shook her head. She wasn't giving the man any of her food, but if she did, could he use that to trade for money? Now wasn't the time to think about that, but...
The maroon hat he was wearing came off, and the human wiped his brow. "Yeah, I thought so. So far? It's been two hours and no luck." He replaced his cap, sending Trinitite a thin smile. "If you needed money, I'd suggest getting a loan from your parents."
'Parents?' As in, more than one? How did that work? Of course, she wasn't going to voice her concerns here, but she made a mental note to investigate that in the future.
Instead, the Carrier replied with a non-committal "Ah."
That should have been the end of it. She'd learned what she'd wanted, and interacting with the human had been a bit of a risk. Before she could leave, however, the human just had to keep talking.
"So how's your day been?"
The Abyssal froze. She was supposed to keep talking? How were you supposed to answer that?
"I've, uh… It's been normal?"
Yeah, normal. Average, like any other human's day.
The response seemed to work well enough, as the man nodded.
"Take care, then!"
She wasn't sure what to say, but she'd already started walking away. How did you end a conversation with a human? 'Fair Seas?' 'Good luck?'
Yeah, that one should work. She'd turned to tell the man that, but by that point she'd already put too much distance between the two. The embarrassed carrier had to settle for a simple nod.
Not the best way to end a conversation, but She would get better. Trinitite could still remember when her crew couldn't even work her boilers properly. Learning how to talk to people couldn't be that hard.
- - -
She was listening to human's transmissions again. When the Carrier had first thought to do so, she'd felt a muted sense of dread, but Trinitite could only watch so many cars passing her before her morbid curiosity reasserted itself.
"Some folk dances from Hungary, arranged for orchestra. This was Slovácko Verbuňk, performed by the Hungarian National Philharmonic."
With how far she'd gotten, several of the transmitters she'd originally listened in on had passed out of range, while a new set of transmitters had entered into her range. Just as well, she hadn't been impressed with the last set. The same could be said about the new radio stations, with one exception.
"Up next, we have a much slower but perhaps more recognizable piece: Antonín Dvořák's Largo, from his New World Symphony."
This frequency was starting to grow on her. Advertisements weren't an assault of noise and shouting, but instead simple thanks for people who helped keep the transmission going. The music wasn't interrupted by somebody shouting about love, scary hotels that trap you inside forever, or whatever other nonsense the Abyssal couldn't extract meaning from, no matter how much she wasted time contemplating it.
With nothing to distract her beyond the passing cars and music, Trinitite found herself focusing on her radio as she walked. She didn't know humans well, at all, but she couldn't help but feel for whomever built this music. Now that she wasn't trying to figure out what someone was trying to say, she could tell the sound itself was conveying something deeper. There was a meaning there, a sense of wonder, maybe? The abyssal could only guess as to the creator's true meaning, but she could certainly find her own.
Contemplating the piece was pleasant, until the roar of jet engines reminded Trinitite of her situation. A military aircraft roared over her head, so low the Carrier could count the individual bombs slung under its wings. Deep, there were a lot of them, and was that thing on the front a gun?
The flying cross would only be moving that low and slow if it was trying to land.
That meant a lot of things, each of varying importance to the Abyssal: The aircraft she'd seen a few days earlier must also have been loaded like this, meaning they certainly had been looking for her.
More importantly, though, was that anywhere something like that wanted to land wasn't where she wanted to be. The Abyssal adjusted her speed, her inconspicuous walk becoming a brisk jog.
Sure, she was disguised, but cruising this close to an enemy airbase? Best not to test her luck by lingering.
Here's another part, and a PyrrhicSteel classic "half a chapter whose word-count ran away from the author." So, here's some minor Trinitite shenanigans before the bottom really falls out for her in Seattle.
Not much to say beyond that, however, as the staus quo didn't change much. Next chapter, however? It's happening.
Not much to say beyond that, however, as the staus quo didn't change much. Next chapter, however? It's happening.
