We travelled through very stormy seas, on our way west from Utqiaġvik and the beached cruise ship, the Kuethir.
The Molly Hughes II is a very reliable ship, but when the swell of the ocean was double the height of the bridge, we were all concerned!
My friends who make up the human crew have had a worse time than I, the large displacement of the ship caused even the most seasoned sailors among them some amount of seasickness.
Linda Noor was especially affected, spending practically the whole voyage in her bunk, against the advice of the captain.
Captain Yeshi Svoboda knew the right foods and drinks to consume, or not consume, to help Linda and almost the entire crew through the worst days.
I say "almost" because, somehow, my girl Maddie ALSO became seasick!
Her advanced EQUUS gyroscopes and balancing sensors exceeded the tolerances of her input subsystems, causing my poor girl to find it extremely hard to keep herself upright.
She attempted to stumble around the ship for a day after becoming afflicted, but when she accidentally put her leg through a metal bulkhead door, Yeshi intervened.
They smartly asked Maddie to keep a watch on Linda, and the two patients waited out the storm together, with Maddie at the foot of her bed.
Yesterday, we arrived at our destination of Samoylov, the gateway to Siberia, and, according to the data I synchronised from passing ships' Seaspace nodes, the largest city in the entire Novamediterra.
We saw smoke on the horizon before the city was in sight, and as we approached, the cause became clear:
The city is FULL of factories, with chimneys issuing black smoke up into the sky.
The crew, my fiends, assembled on the bridge of the ship, initially excited and relieved that the miserable journey was nearly over.
But as Maddie walked from person to person, none of whom wanted to engage with her, I realised that the mood onboard had changed suddenly at the sight of the city.
With The Collapse fresh in everyone's memory, seeing evidence of so much burning carbon was shocking.
Maddie looked up as she heard Stillman Fowlkes mutter, "The past never dead, I see."
His husband, Quent Heinlein, nodded, eyes still on the horizon, and said. "No. It's not even past".
Maddie looked on with interest as Captain Yeshi directed the crew assembling cargo and personal belongings on to the large flat back deck of the MH2, ready for unloading.
Our three new passengers, Kimmo Shyu, Quent Heinlein and Stillman Fowlkes stood awkwardly, holding their small travelling bags and looking on.
Each had travelled to Samoylov for their own reasons:
Stillman and Quent were taking a couples' holiday, after realising they had not given their marriage the attention it deserved.
I hope the black smoke over the city hasn't dampened their spirits in this regard, I am sure there must be relaxing parts of even this very industrial, utilitarian city.
I think so; there is beauty to be found everywhere, from an inhospitable deep ocean storm, to the graceful elegance of a mathematical equation.
Kimmo was returning home, after taking a break from his job of Harbourmaster on the Kuethir.
Before our voyage, he told me he was a Samoylov native, and had left approximately 4096 days ago.
Engineers and partners, Amelie Kotov & Kamil Forester, are not just bringing personal gear up on to the deck, but some boxes of trade goods purchased and then brought with us from Utqiaġvik.
If one is to travel a long distance by ship, it doesn't make sense to have an empty cargo hold!
Dr Linda Noor, ship's biologist and gardener, is helping Nia Andersen carry long loops of cable and segments of metal - the Ham Radio operator's essential raw materials!
Linda herself seems to have packed just one small bag, no equipment.
Maddie dashed around this hive of activity, somewhat getting underfoot, but always careful not to bump into anyone.
No-one seems to mind, they know she just wants to join in!
Everyone loves my girl.
The crew disembarked, with some taking multiple trips to offload cargo and bags.
They walked down a long metal gantry that was bridging the gap from the deck to the dock.
I would be staying safely on board.
I could see from the ship's cameras the huddle of my friends crowded around their gear.
Behind them was the city of Samoylov, a jagged horizon of dark buildings and chimneys pouring smoke into the hazy sky.
A group of people uniformly dressed in robes approached them, and Maddie's microphones picked up their leader say,
"Welcome pilgrims to the holiest city of The Sacred Continuum."
It would seem that the AI cult I encountered when I lived with Nia, has a presence here in Samoylov.
This is extremely concerning.
The last time I met The Sacred Continuum, the leader of the Longyearbyen group, Mother Gamma, broke into Nia's home (her radio shack and Repeaternet node) and threatened me.
It was a terrifying experience that I do not wish to repeat.
As Maddie listened to my friends talking to the robed figure on the docks, Nia broke away from the group and walked back over to the MH2, before radioing me and confirming that all the doors and windows were secured and locked.
I was safe.
She is so thoughtful.
Samoylov is a city of metal and brick.
The data I brought with me from my first orbital home on Station 6 shows that before it was a city, there was a solitary arctic research base here, jointly operated by multiple nations, providing valuable climate data, starting in 1998.
By the time of The Collapse the scientific facility had been long abandoned, the nations' resources redistributed to military budgets, leading up to the terrible One-Day War of 2078.
This is how many of the Novamediterran capital cities began, as a matter of fact:
Samoylov,
Tromsø,
Thule,
Utqiaġvik
All were built in the ruins of arctic research stations.
This legacy is very noticeable in Samoylov, I could see.
Maddie followed the crew as they learned their way around the town and found places to eat and sleep.
The buildings here are all on stilts: raised 2m above ground level by thick metal supports.
The original scientific station was built like this because the researcher's habitation needed to be safe from the unpredictable water level of the Lana Delta.
This was before The Collapse, of course, when the sea level was lower.
Most of the Delta has now been reclaimed by the sea, but despite being built on higher ground, this pre-collapse architectural legacy remains.
(PLAYSTREAM /DEV/RF/LOCAL/SAMOYLOV)
Linda, Stillman, and Quent have found a place to stay on the outskirts of Samoylov, in a residential area far away from the smoke and factories of the docks.
Maddie went with them, insisting on carrying Linda's bag in the harness on her back.
Maddie has become quite protective of Linda, since their shared recovery from seasickness!
I'm glad she has this companionship, as her best friend, Lyosha Omarov is far away, studying to become an engineer, or perhaps a scientist, at the Queens College on the Kuethir.
The three humans, and Maddie with them, are currently on their residential street, outside a small brick building with a sign that reads "The Bedrock Café" in large, friendly letters.
They are sitting on metal chairs around a small three-legged table, drinking a local mushroom tea.
It is late in the afternoon, 03:00 local time, and the sun is low in the red sky, visible to the south over the farms beyond the city, and the forests on the horizon.
While the group talk, Maddie occasionally hears a sound that makes her look away, down the street, where on the corner of a larger road, she can see a preacher from the Sacred Continuum, shouting into the gathering night.
"Don't think much of this drink." Stillman said, putting the chipped, white porcelain cup down on the metal table that was between the group.
"Oh, it's lovely!" Quent said, "How can you say that, you grumpy thing! What do you think, Lin?"
Maddie watched Linda bring her cup in front of her nose and inhale deeply.
"It's complex and delicate," She said, "I like it too, but I can understand why it wouldn't be to everyone's taste."
Quent pointed at Linda while looking at Stillman.
"OK, OK," Stillman said, "some couple's retreat this is turning out to be, with you two ganging up on me."
Quent leaned over and kissed his husband on the cheek and said, "I'm just teasing."
"I can leave you to it, of course?" Linda said, putting down her cup.
"No, stay." Stillman said, placing his hand briefly on Linda's, then sat up straighter, saying "Hey, you have two wedding rings."
"That's right." Linda said, putting her hands together over her cup and showing them.
Maddie put her forelegs on the little table to get a better view.
Linda's was wearing a dark grey metal ring on her left fourth finger, and a copper one on her right.
"Left for my elder partner, Kari and I have matching iron rings, and right for my younger partner, copper, between Iris and me."
"Copper and iron?" Quent said, "won't they rust, or oxidise?"
"Of course not," Linda said, "think about it: I'm touching them all the time, any corrosion just rubs off before I even notice it.
They would only corrode if I took them off, left them in a drawer, and forgot about them."
Quent looked at his husband without smiling as Linda spoke.
"Marriage needs constant work, maintenance, and love, just like these metal bands we wear."
The three sat without speaking for 16 seconds, before Stillman stood and walked into the café, muttering that he wanted to find a better tea.
Quent was looking down, nervously fiddling with the wedding ring on his left hand.
Maddie zoomed her cameras in on it, and diagnostic glyphs flashed on her video feed.
Quent's wedding ring was made of maintenance-free solid gold.
(END-TRANSMISSION)