The yotun is still whan thay laanch, or seems

still: hids swaalls o gas more gless

as birlan wind. But fae this distance

wind is apaece an fire is caald.

So eftir jeust a day o rest,

Inga, Olaf an the tree o thir crew,

breeksed yet fae the muckle dance,

sail the rouk in sairch o Light.

Øyvind choss the kirk an no

the laancheen bay, preferran prayer

tae seean them aff: an aald wint

he thowt he’d tint at ruggid him

the day: some imp o fear demandan

his holy time an holy wirds.

He asks the gods tae mynd thaim on.

He nivver asks fer ower much.

Whan Inga sails an Øyvind prays,

teddert tae the staetion’s tide,

a play o Lights noo taks tae tirlan

i’the yotun’s brist an hoved hairt.

~

Higgie’s deep i’the codd whan thay sail,

an deeper yet whan the screens ahint

is stairtan tae shaa the aerly signs

o a mortal stoor. Sheu caas the bays.

Thay’ll send alairm tae ivry yole

tae come back in. She pits up a wird.

Sheu’s deun whit sheu can deu. An than

her awn alairm begins tae skrek

an ivry screen at aence aizes

in error-light, an afore sheu can see

whit’s whit a muckle root braks

fae the deck o the plant. Sheu rins tae see.

The faalds o pouer aroon the bots

is buljan an thratchan like a seck

o rattans, refractors an connectors

lipperan wi light, ivry een.

Whan sheu draps her hand, the Lights

is maed a spinnan triple helix

i’the plant’s center. Sheu canno hear

alairms noo. Sheu only waatches.

~

Darling’s at the bays fer the laanch,

seean hoo hid’s deun. Sheu’s thinkan

on tellan Astrid aboot the yole.

Will hid haad her, or gar her gang?

Darling kens whit future sheu waants,

but aither wey’s a future. An than

Higgie’s waarneen o the stoor comes.

Ivry Lighter kens the wird:

this een coudno be warse. Sheu mynds

some aald emerjency on Mars,

some mairket crash, an whit wey her faithers

wis leukan that night: fill skaeliement,

lampan an yappan intae thir screens

whill thay thowt thay’d taen control.

But here the fock is naet o feet

an only spaek wi quiet voyces:

aa the rhythm sheu saa i’the dance,

an naen o the joy. Sheu offers tae help

an gits a piece tae stand. Sheu kens

enogh by noo tae wait an haad

jeust whit sheu’s gien tae haad, an pull

whan telt tae pull. Sheu coonts the yoles,

coonts the fock coman aff the yoles.

Sheu kens the coont gey weel the day.

An aa this time, ayont the dyke

at haads the air an separaets

the bay fae space, the Lights is hurlan

ower the yotun’s faem: colour

an paitren ayont a artist’s mare.

Helix, heid, matrix, mooth:

Darling pits her back tae space