Tim and the others spent a lazy afternoon touring the ancient town, seeing the sights, taking silka rides and basking in the warmth of two suns reflected off the whitewashed buildings. Coral suggested they go down to the port for a swim, but Ludokrus said they’d go later and that they needed the right equipment first.
‘Equipment? For swimming?’
He took them to a local market where they found snugly fitting body suits, goggles and lightweight helmets.
‘What’s in your oceans that we need all this stuff for?’ Coral asked.
‘Night swim. You will see.’
‘I can't believe we’re shopping again,’ Tim muttered.
‘Now we go home. Early dinner and relax. Conserve the energy.’
All three moons – Palas, Polux and Puk – were low in the southern sky when they ventured out that evening, dressed in the new gear they’d bought. Ludokrus led the way, heading downhill, joining others dressed similarly and heading in the same direction.
After twenty minutes they came to a plain of smooth rock some distance below the maglev station that marked the lowest point of the town. It was a natural amphitheatre surrounded by a ring of jagged rocks. From the edge, they could see the port buildings and jetty far below, all built on pontoons that bobbed in the restless sea like the fishing boats further out.
The area was the size of a sports field and the crowd spread themselves out over it, taking miniature inflatable dinghies from racks around the perimeter. Alkemy and Ludokrus found some for their friends, holding them up to check the size before leading them out to a vacant space on the smooth plain.
A small canister in the side inflated the craft, which turned out to have thick rubber bases and an inner liner that pulled up over their legs and sealed around their waists when they were seated.
‘We call these body boats,’ Ludokrus told them.
‘But there’s no water,’ Tim said. ‘We’re still at least thirty metres above sea-level. There’s no way we’re going to get––’
The air of quiet expectation from the people around them was broken by a rising cheer. He turned to see a gentle wash of water flood across the ground.
‘Where did that come from?’
‘It’s the moons!’ Norman exclaimed. ‘I just realised why the town’s built so high up. Buckle Gap’s the only place where the northern and southern oceans meet. When the moon’s line up, they must create a huge high tide. Look ...’
He pointed to where Palas, Polux and Puk seemed to be on a collision course at a point low on the southern horizon.
‘Meeting so close only happen once a year,’ Ludokrus called. ‘That means this tide will not just be big, she will be the monster!’
A second wave sloshed around their feet. In the twilight beyond the edge of the plain, Tim saw a larger wave looming and heard the sigh of water as it broke on the surrounding rocks. Another cheer went up. This time there was enough water to actually float the body boats.
Tim’s half-turned, bumping Norman’s. He reached over the side and paddled it around the right way again as cries rose from behind. Glancing back, he saw a truly monstrous wave thundering over the rocks. Behind it, an even larger one raced in.
‘Oh my god,’ Coral cried. ‘It’s like a tidal wave!’
‘Hold on!’
The surge hit and they were washed away like corks in a raging storm.
The rush of water swept them towards the far edge of the plain. They tried to stay together, but dozens of other little craft were swept along with them, channelled and funnelled by the rocks around the sides. Tim caught sight of Norman, bobbing backwards in the crowd, and Ludokrus and Coral, who’d somehow lashed their boats together, one behind the other. Then he forgot about them all, hearing shouts and screams in the moonlit gloom ahead.
The first drop was gentle, barely a metre, and the tidal surge carried them over it smoothly. Ahead, Tim could see a series of broad steps, each one steeper than last, all dotted with little craft. Another surge rose below him. It felt as if a hand was pushing his boat up and forward, faster and faster towards the rocky slopes and the narrow channel at the far end.
The boat’s inflatable side bounced off a rock and he went over the next drop backwards, yelling with fright and excitement like everyone around him. From them on, the only time he stopped yelling was to gasp for breath.
The drops between the rocky steps grew larger and steeper. At one point, the moonlight disappeared and Tim realised he was racing through an underground passage at great speed, carried along by the force of the frothing water. Slick rock rushed past his face and the dark air was icy. It was a relief to burst out into moonlight again – until he realised he was practically airborne, bobbing on top of a massive waterfall of water.
He arced down with it to the boiling foam below, hit bow first, submerged completely, then bobbed up, spluttering, to the surface, grateful that the little boat was sealed around his legs and waist. There was barely time to catch his breath before another surge carried him onwards.
The ride lasted a quarter of an hour, and by the time the final wave carried the hundreds of craft down a gentle cascade into a bright pool of ocean, Tim’s throat was raw from yelling and his arms ached from holding on. He caught sight of Alkemy, waved and paddled towards her. She was grinning like a soggy demon, her hair plastered to her head.
‘You like?’ she asked, raising her goggles as larger boats circled them, throwing out ropes to tow them back to land.
‘Like?’ he croaked. ‘That was a-mazing! That has to be the best ride ever!’
Back on land, volunteers handed out towels and warm drinks, and they soon found the others. It seemed as if the whole village was buzzing with the excitement of the ride.
‘Can we do that again tomorrow?’ Norman asked.
‘Sorry, the three moon night only happen once a month, and the big one like this only once a year. We are lucky with the date. Too good to miss, no?’
They all heartily agreed.
There was a long queue for silkas at the station, and once the excitement of the ride had ebbed no one felt like trudging up the hill on foot. It was nearly midnight by the time they pushed open the heavy wooden door and plodded in, looking forward to their beds.
‘Don’t forget,’ Ludokrus called. ‘Early start in morning.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Rush hour. The second thing you do not want to miss in Kestel.’