“Miss Leung,” he says, extending a hand as large as my head. “Welcome aboard the Nereid. We’re very pleased to have you. I’m Captain Carriel.”

I take his hand and give it the firmest shake that I can manage. “Glad to be of service, sir.” I’m not sure if you’re supposed to call the captain of a cruise ship “sir,” but I figure it can’t hurt since the guy’s paying my salary.

“I have a key for your bunk.” He hands me a card on a lanyard, which I loop around my neck as I gather all my gear back up. “I’m guessing you’ve got it all handled from here though, huh?”

I can’t figure out if he’s joking or if he actually has this much trust in me. It’s difficult to tell when you’ve never seen a person do anything but smile.

The Nereid thrums to life as I drag my gear down to
the lower decks and find my assigned bunk. It’s cramped, and the dull rumble from the ship’s engines is constant down here, but there’s a tiny window in my room that looks out on the sea. As we undock and turn for the open waters of the Neo
Pacific, Durga swims at our side. She lifts from the waves, water sloughing off her back, her forelegs carving through the sea as she keeps the Nereid ’s pace. She seems much more cheerful now that she’s reunited with her companion vessel, and as I unpack, I feel even more of the worry lift off my shoulders.

Once my phone connects to the ship’s uplink, I post a quick status update to put my parents at ease. Then I gather my gear and make my way through the narrow service hallways to the trainer deck at the ship’s aft. Up above, I can hear the thunder of feet, the shouts and shrieks of the passengers celebrating the start of their vacation. For me, the work is just beginning.

Life at sea moves in a strange rhythm. I wake early in the morning to check on Durga, drawing her up to the trainer deck at the rear of the ship with an LED homing beacon the size of a suitcase. The deck is right above the engines, low enough that she can tap the beacon with the tip of her beak.

Each Reckoner gets trained on a signal set assigned by the IGEOC, a unique collection of lights and sounds that ensure we alone control our beasts. Some are grating, but Durga’s is one of my favorites: a pulse of blue lights and a low humming noise. During the day, Durga tends to wander away from the ship, hunting neocetes and whatever else she can scarf down. I carry a tracker on my belt that lets me know if she strays too far, but of course she never does.