Ahab continued explaining after that.
To shorten it a little, the gist was that she'd been fretting over an enemy whose form seemed better suited to the few than the many, and then we'd happened to fall into her lap as if by fate~ Faust had predicted that this Abnormality had drifted in from the Lobotomy Corporation branch~ and so on.
What we were supposed to do in the middle of all that was cut the artery in the right atrium. According to Ahab, both the left and right arteries had to be severed before the heart would open. Another not-so-surprising fact afterward was that inside the whale's heart was yet another heart.
If Ahab stabbed that heart with her harpoon, that would be the end of it. She also added that after that, whether Ishmael stabbed Ahab or not was up to us.
"I can't say I've mapped out the geography of this place, but considering the structure of the operation, it does seem reasonable, Manager."
""
All the bus's commanders agreed with the story, which sounded fairly convincing.
"I still don't like it... Handing over the whole plan to that unknown captain and following her orders? Weren't we supposed to just listen to the clock-headed thing?"
"Then why don't you find the Golden Bough somewhere inside this whale within six hours, figure out a way to get there, make tools suited to this whale's temperament one by one, and in the meantime come up with some brilliant method to capture every merfolk and Abnormality in between using only our own strength?"
"Tch..."
"Look at those eyes. If all you've got is a mouth, then shut it. Come here. You really want to get hit, don't you? Say something that makes sense, you crazy bastard."
"Hey! Hey, you crazy—"
Let's deal with the mouthy complainer before he can keep whining.
This idiot had never even put together a proper plan in his life, and yet he was always full of complaints.
While I was holding Heathcliff by the hair and neatly avoiding his attacks, Ahab moved her harpoon-leg and looked over the sailors of the Pequod.
"All right, we'll meet at the rendezvous point. Everyone, may your voyage be a good one."
"..."
"My sailors, the day you've long awaited to see the sun is not far off. Nor is the day you breathe the briny, vile air of the City."
After that came a short speech.
Motivational talk, I guess. Well, someone with that kind of silver tongue would be wasting it if she didn't use it for that sort of thing.
After a little time passed, Ahab provided us with a boat.
And just as we were about to depart...
"Only Pequod sailors can operate this boat. So, I'll do it."
Queequeg joined the group.
Surprising, huh? I really thought she was going to send us off by ourselves, but instead she'd brought along one of the enemy's core combatants.
Did she have some ulterior motive? If all she needed was a driver, she could've just sent any sailor.
Several ominous thoughts flashed through my head, but I decided not to say anything.
Because ever since she joined us, Ishmael's face had become visibly brighter.
Let's keep watch on my own, but not interfere.
Please... let the bad feeling turn out to be nothing but a useless hunch.
Though it didn't really seem like that had ever happened before.
We rode the boat toward the right atrium of the pale whale.
Normally, this would've been the kind of moment where silence hung in the air, or a few jokes were traded back and forth, but today was different.
There were people here she hadn't seen in a long time, people she could finally have a proper conversation with.
"I thought... you... and all the sailors had died."
"Me too. Thought you were dead. You. And where I was. Dead people. Don't burn them. Bury them. Into the ground. And into the heart. Deep. So they can't be pulled back out."
"To you... I'm... someone who was buried?"
"I... want to see. Sunset. I keep going with that thought. Keep breathing. Throw the harpoon."
"...You hated the outside world, didn't you?"
"Sunset is warm. Always. Everywhere."
"..."
It was such a delicate atmosphere that it was hard for anyone else to do much of anything. So there really had been someone Ishmael could speak to so gently... I guess. Though if I narrow it down to me, it's a little ambiguous.
Well, I don't think I was exactly a warm presence either.
The Sinners either spoke quietly among themselves or tended to their own tasks.
Then Dante broke the atmosphere first and spoke up. Which, come to think of it, was only natural; with Dante's personality, the only time he'd do something like that was when there was something to be done.
""
"The cries of the merfolk..."
"That's what they become. If they can't get out. They only howl. Trying to kill everything they meet. They melt. Slowly. And then... much later... as if they'd never existed in the first place. They flow away. The pale whale. It has to be killed. Then you can get out."
"<...!>"
At the same time Dante let out a groan, information I couldn't have known with my own eyes poured in. It had been a while since my vision had resonated with Dante's. I hadn't expected it at all.
What was being shown was Ishmael's past.
Back when the Pequod was in the middle of its voyage.
The scream of a merfolk, the same kind that had echoed inside the pale whale, rang across the deck.
And with Ishmael's late-arriving voice, the story began.
[The cries. In the hold, terrible cries could be heard every day.]
The first thing I saw there was Starbuck, looking far healthier than he did now, with no white membrane clinging to him.
"Pip, this time it's your turn to go down to the hold."
[Because the merfolk howl every night, we had no choice but to lock them in the hold.]
The person called by Starbuck was a young boy named Pip.
Small, unmistakably a child, with no trace of maturity in his speech.
"Pip doesn't want to go down... It's scary."
"It was the result of a draw. Unfortunately... you'll have to accept it."
Starbuck soothed the child called Pip as best he could.
Merfolk, though. Why lock merfolk in the hold in the first place? Was there some reason for it?
A small question rose in my mind, but I had no time to dwell on it.
Information from the past was precious, so I couldn't afford to miss a single scene.
Then, at just the right moment, I could spot Ishmael and Queequeg over there.
The only unusual thing was that Queequeg seemed almost unchanged, while Ishmael, unlike now, had her hair cut short.
"Queequeg... doesn't this seem strange? Why are we... having to do something like this?"
"You have to endure it, Ishmael. We'll be able to meet that pale whale. Soon. That means everything will be over."
"Yeah, soon... it'll be over... So if this voyage just ends..."
What came after "ends..." might have held the simple wish Ishmael had once carried in her heart.
It became something I'd never be able to know. Right after that, Ahab appeared, still dragging along her harpoon prosthetic leg.
That woman's unchanged except for the whitening, too.
"What's all this noise on my ship when you can't even stay in your proper place?"
"Captain! Pip doesn't want to go down below. I'm scared to death. I'm terrified! Pip hears it every night. The sound of something scratching at the hold door..."
"...Pull yourself together, Pip. That's just a merfolk."
"Pip knows, Pip saw it, that was..."
The boy named Pip was plainly overwhelmed by fear. Direct, primal fear.
"It was the sailor Stub, Captain... The boat Stub was on got swallowed by that pale whale..."
"Pip, don't listen to the sounds from the hold. Look across the lake instead. We're not far from the day we meet the pale whale. The fact that its cries are growing louder means it's nearby. That thing will lead us to the pale whale."
"..."
That thing—does she mean the merfolk? The louder the merfolk's cries become, the closer it is... Does that mean she's using the merfolk as a compass toward the whale?
[That night, I secretly entered Ahab's captain's quarters. Going into the captain's quarters without permission was practically taboo. Any sailor would know that. If caught, it would be no surprise to receive immediate punishment on charges of mutiny, but I myself couldn't have said exactly what I was thinking.]
"...! A... Ahab... Captain... I... I..."
"..."
"Cap, captain?"
Whoa, that startled me. That crazy woman sleeps with her eyes wide open even when she's asleep. She's terrifying in the smallest details.
[The captain's eyes were fixed straight on the map of the lake attached to the ceiling of the cabin. They didn't move at all. I stared at the sight, then staggered out and opened the captain's quarters door. I had no choice.]
Waiting for Ishmael outside the captain's quarters was Starbuck.
Well, not so much waiting as simply passing by there by chance.
"Did you go into the captain's quarters?"
"St... Starbuck..."
"The captain always keeps her eyes open even when she sleeps. She's staring at the pale whale somewhere in the lake's domain. The captain isn't sleeping. She's always awake."
It was clear Ishmael had committed a fairly serious offense, but Starbuck didn't sound accusatory. If anything, his tone suggested understanding.
The two sailors must have had some common ground, because with just a few words they understood each other's thoughts.
[Yes... this place is in the captain's grasp. We can only breathe as much as she allows while our whole bodies are clenched in her fist.]
"Go back in and get some sleep. Like the captain said, that whale isn't far away. The captain's words can be hard to understand, and I often wish she'd think differently... but even that time is running out. Once we catch the pale whale... and get off the ship... we..."
And that was as far as it went.
The illusion ended, and consciousness was dragged back into reality.
When I opened my eyes, I was still inside the pale whale.