Chapter 91: An ugly little World

"Such an ugly little World." Yanaye commented dryly.

Looking down from one hundred miles above, the chain of tiny islands seemed even more insignificant against the mass of the continent appearing at least from this altitude, a healthy stone's throw to the west.

The master agrarian was clearly unimpressed by what she saw below. In her three hundred years she'd seen perhaps a hundred worlds. Less than half of those could even laughingly call themselves inhabited.

Fewer still possessed the right mixture of elements to truly support the kind of rich arboreal cover that stirred her Jurian blood.

What could possibly be so special about the flooded mud ball below to hold sway over the mightiest living ship in the known universe?

"I'm afraid I'd have to concur." Golmot muttered from a few feet behind. Making his way tiredly to the steps connecting Tsunami's main upper and lower decks.

"Over two thirds water and what isn't flooded is desert or mountain terrain." The elder shipwright grumbled, siting down heavily.

Long ago, His family may have designed and built this ship to house the first tree but aesthetics aside, it was a ship of war, not a pleasure craft. Thus understandably short on basic amenities.

"Like decent seating!" He moaned to himself. If the master agrarian had not been present he would probably have stretched out on the deck about the base of the mammoth tree regardless of how disrespectful it might be deemed.

He was as Jurian as Yanaye. Unlike The master agrarian however his view were less confined to dogmatic awe.

Easing his aching frame back much as the steps permitted, he took some pleasure looking at Yanaye's admittedly dejected form. She, like this ancient ship had magnificent lines. He could certainly sympathize. Both of them, yanked from their lives at a moment's whim. Carted across the barbaric reaches of interstellar space to ... This.

He, because his families long service to the crown in design and construction of some of the finest ships of the line.

She, due to her formidable knowledge of the magnificent trees of Juri.

Neither however had been told how they're respective skills would be employed until setting foot aboard a living legend.

At fifteen hundred years Golmot was old even for a Jurian. Yet it was his grandfather, not he who had sculpted the lines of this ship in his distant youth. His own knowledge of Tsunami came from years of studying dusty plans, ancient scrolls and exact models still retained by his house.

No wood smith would ever-lay saw on a royal ship till they knew every cut, every plank of that which had brought their family such honor! Thus it had been supremely difficult to stand in the royal presence, while the queen spouted what constituted Blasphemy!

Almost to the point he recalled feeling faint when Funaho had instructed them to immobilized the first tree!

"No harm must come to her." The queen had said coldly. "But Tsunami must not be allowed to interfere in what must occur."

As he had been reeling, Golmot had the dubious pleasure of witnessing the master agrarian come within inches of heresy.

"This is utter madness!" Yanaye had gasped slate gray eyes going utterly wild. "You would have us perpetrate sacrilege!"

In retrospect Golmot found sympathy amid his own concerns, when during their talks he'd discovered it was Yanaye herself who'd devised the strategy of using Tsunami's seedlings to confuse and subdue the first tree! Though she told him ashamedly the information had been developed long ago as merely a hypothetical exercise after Tsunami had gone missing.

A possible defense, should the first tree somehow unthinkably be turned against Jurai! He also understood she had almost been excommunicated over the stratagems development. What viscous irony!

"I would have you mind your place and obey!" Funaho had stormed in response.

"And do not vex me with your religious prattling!"

Yanaye had stood trembling at war with duty to the thrown and her love of the sacred trees. Both forcing her to a state of mute horror.

"Can it be done?" Funaho had then asked, looking between the two of them for confirmation.

"I believe so." Golmot had answered his own voice sounding unsteady. "We will have to make precise cuts. Eliminate certain connections in the main trunk ganglia." He paused aware not only of the queen's expectant gaze but the hostile looks coming from the master agrarian.