The Apocalypse Ocean (11 page)

The
Streuner
passed through a wormhole and sank into the waters of a new ocean. The motors wound down to a low idle and the crew moved quickly on the decks. A full day of travel, skimming over ten different oceans, transiting each wormhole with that faint stomach flip, was finally over. Tiago rubbed his eyes and staggered to standing.

He walked up to the bridge and looked out of the windows. He half expected to see another wormhole in front of him. Instead, he saw three half-submerged spaceships.

He recognized that they were spaceships from magazine and history articles. Long, bullet-like cylinders, black like midnight and festooned with weapon ports along the axis. It was strange to see them bobbing at sea like uncomfortable submarines.

Nashara looked down at him from the stairs leading into the bridge, silhouetted against a sun that loomed far too large in the sky behind her. “Get June up here,” she ordered.

The
Streuner
pulled up alongside one of the spaceships and the hull cracked open to reveal an airlock right near the water’s edge. June and Tiago had to jump over the gap between the spaceship and
Streuner
, but Nashara helped haul them in after she’d easily hopped across. “Welcome to the
Takara Bune
,” she said.

She stood at the edge of the airlock and nodded at the crew aboard the
Streuner
. “Wait ten hours before you give your report to the Dread Council. By the time this gets back to the Defense Committee, I’ll have the time I need.”

“The XDC will be very upset,” the man on the other side said.

“I’ll take the fallout,” Nashara said. She shut the airlock door. It hissed as it sealed itself closed. 

“All hands, this is Nashara,” she said to the air. “Inform the
Jericho
and the
Selby
that we are go for recovery.”

The spaceship shook and thrummed. Water slapped against the hull as it began to force its way through the ocean.

#

Nashara led them at a fast march through the tight corridors of the
Takara Bune
. Unlike the
Streuner
, it was more cramped. Metal bulkheads threatened to hit Tiago in the head every fifty or so feet as thick doors automatically swung open to let them through.

It smelled in here. Of body odor, sweat, food, oil, ozone, and oddly enough, leather and gunpowder.

Somewhere deep in the heart of the ship, Nashara tapped their shoulders and pointed them toward a larger room with three white beds. A machine hung from the ceiling above each one with scissor-like hands and needles.

June’s face lost all its color. “No!” he screamed and turned to run, but Nashara picked him up by his collar. June’s feet dangled in the air in front of her.

“Relax,” she said as he squirmed and twisted. “That’s surgery equipment. It looks scary, but this is a ship of war, not a fancy hospital. Those arms don’t stay packed away, they’re always out, locked, and ready to be used if needed. Isn’t that right, Yuki?”

A shorter woman stood outside, watching the exchange. She brushed her straight, black hair out of her eyes. “We’re not going to cut you open, June. The device we’ll use is built into the headpiece of the bed. It’s a special thing, not many of them exist. Let me show you.”

June stopped struggling and looked at Yuki as she walked past to the center bed. Her fingers danced for a second in the air as she tapped on an invisible keyboard that only she could see, and the bed shifted to drop lower. A plastic ring grew up out of the sides of the bed and flared green.

“Now, June,” Yuki said, turning to him. “I’m Dr. Yuki McDowell, and this is my domain.” She waved at the flensing arms above her, and they all began to fold in on themselves, tucking their ends away until they’d huddled into a metallic, shiny ball in the ceiling.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Nashara said. “We just need your help. The Xenowealth, June, needs your help. Will you help us?”

“All you need to do, June, is lie down on the bed, your head under that ring with the green lights,” Yuki said softly. “It’ll read your brainwaves. And we will do the rest.”

June looked around. Then back at Tiago, looking for advice, or help.

Tiago looked around with a “who me?” sort of expression. Those robotic surgery arms had scared the crap out of him as well. He half shrugged. “If they were going to hurt you, they would have done it by now, you know?”

June bit his lip. “Okay.”

He steeled himself, straightening up, and then bravely climbed up and lay down. The lights flickered, and June tensed.

Yuki crooked a finger. In response, one of the arms unfolded itself with a snap. It swung down so fast that it blurred and lightly stabbed the side of June’s neck.

“Hey!” he said, and then his eyes rolled up as he fell asleep.

“Sedative,” Nashara said to Tiago, seeing him step forward in alarm. “It’s just a sedative.”

June was still breathing, Tiago saw.

“Piper?” Yuki asked to the thin air.

Tiago glanced around. He couldn’t see anyone else in the room. But both Yuki and Nashara stared at a spot in the room.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Nashara said, in response to an invisible question.

June twitched, and Yuki looked over. “She’s in.”

“Who’s in?” Tiago asked.

Yuki ignored him, but Nashara turned. “Goz, you’re the closest. Get the other kid out of here please.”

Tiago glowered at her, but Nashara ignored it. Both she and Yuki were in their own worlds now, muttering to each other and looking at things invisible to Tiago’s eyes.

He was blind to all of it.

Boot steps from behind got his attention. A man at Tiago’s height with sinewy forearms leaned around the corner of the bulkhead. His shoulder-length dreadlocks swayed. “You the boy?” he asked.

Tiago folded his arms. “Yes. I’m the boy,” he said.

“Gossamer Patton-Diaz,” the man said with a smile as he held his hand out. He had a New Anegada accent. “You just call me Goz though, right?”

They stood like that for a moment. Tiago ignoring the out-held hand.

“You have a name?” Goz asked finally. “Or I just calling you ‘boy?’”

“Tiago. My name is Tiago.”

“You hungry much?”

He hadn’t eaten. Nashara had been pushing them on through wormhole after wormhole to get here as fast as she could. Someone had slipped him an energy bar and some juice, but that was it.

Tiago’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and Goz smiled. “Yeah, you hungry like the devil. Come.”

Tiago followed him out.

“Tell me something,” Goz said, ducking a bulkhead lip. “Pepper really dead under the water back there on Octavia?”

“That’s what everyone says,” Tiago told him.

“Ras.” Goz shook his head. Tiago didn’t know what that meant. “And that thing busted up Nashara something wicked.”

The man looked shaken.

Goz lead him deeper into the ship to the galley. Tiago could smell the tang of unfamiliar spices and hear hot oil spitting in a pan. His mouth watered.

“Breadfruit curry, rice, and peas, and if Gina’s in there, you got fresh pasta,” Goz said, leading him into the efficiently laid out space of the galley. Drawers and cupboards jutted out of every space over a center island where the frying pan sizzled, and more mechanical arms whipped around as they prepared food.

Two other crew sat in a booth with soft cushions and foot rests with straps on them.

“Gina, this here one of the boys Nashara pick up,” Goz said to the woman. She nodded at Tiago. “That there is Gina Seacole. She hails from one of Bujantjor’s orbiting cities. And this man right here is Ian Skeete, you just call him Skeet, right?”

Skeet had the same shoulder-length locks, and dark-brown skin. His eyes, though, were a startling full silver. They were artificial. He looked Tiago over, then returned to eating.

“What you want from the galley?” Goz asked as he shepherded Tiago over to sit.

Tiago eyed the food. “All of it,” he said.

Gina and Goz laughed.

#

For ten minutes, Tiago wolfed everything he could stand as the three crew members talked to each other in half sentences, referring to things he couldn’t see that they all shared.

But it didn’t matter. He had a full belly, and a moment of calm.

Not long after he leaned back, full of food, Nashara appeared in the air by the booth. Tiago jumped back, startled. She shimmered. Tiago realized he could still see the other side of the kitchen through her.

There are other Nasharas out there, he remembered. This was how she’d fought in the revolution all those years ago, splitting her mind to inhabit machines all throughout the Xenowealth. He was seeing another Nashara.

“Hey Piper,” Goz said. “What you got?”

“I trawled the kid’s mind. Pepper left us a message about where he was intending to end up after he jumped into the water,” the image said. “Exact GPS coordinates laid into rapid Morse code taps. He used his feet to tap the message out. Nashara is going under for repairs and assessment by Yuki and me. I need to talk to you, Goz, about this.”

Goz looked surprised. “Me?”

“You’re the ship’s engineer. I need to talk to you about this because since Nashara left Octavia the dead zone has shifted. We just got a message about the exact measurements. Pepper’s twenty-seven thousand feet underwater and trapped in the dead zone. You see where I’m going with this?”

Goz rubbed his temple, frustrated. “There’s no way we can get to him. Not without killing this ship.”

“And me,” Piper said.

“We need a different approach. Or more time,” Goz said.

“We have until we get to Octavia,” Piper said, and then faded away.

Goz looked down at his plate, then swept it off the table with a string of curses.

“Shit, Goz. How does that fix anything?” Gina asked.

“I can help,” Tiago muttered.

“What was that?” Goz looked over at him.

“I think I can help,” Tiago said.

“You
think
? Or can you really?” Goz asked.

“It depends,” Tiago said, growing bold. “On whether you let me stay aboard. And one other thing.”

“What’s that?” Goz asked.

“Can Nashara survive just like Pepper at the bottom of the ocean?”

Alarms whooped as the spaceships shoved their way out of the wormholes and into the familiar ocean. Air puffed and steamed as water slopped around the edges of the blank wormhole.

Takara Bune
exited first, followed by
Jericho
and
Selby
.

All three slowly inched their way down along the water canal at the heart of Reception. The floating city built up around the wormhole dominated most of the view from
Takara Bune
’s
opened airlock where Tiago stood to look out. Glittering, flat-faced glass buildings towered above the canal ten stories high. Bridged roads swept through the city, packed with trains and people on bikes.

The city’s docks were up ahead, Tiago leaned out of the airlock to look at them. They were packed with cranes, long piers, stacks of containers ready to be shipped to other parts of the Xenowealth.

“You can still go ashore with June,” Yuki said.

“There is no life for me here,” Tiago said.

Yuki took a step closer to him and lowered her voice. “I know this ship represents an out for you. But this crew, they’ve worked with Pepper and Nashara for many years. They’re not just loyal, they’re fierce about it. If you’re lying about how you can help, get off the ship now.”

“I’m not lying,” Tiago said. “But it means we have to go back to Placa del Fuego, and it can’t be Nashara. She … gets noticed.”

“And what about you?”

“I wanted to go back anyway, remember?” Tiago said. “I can keep my head down. Will you be coming with us?”

“No. I stay aboard,” Yuki told him. She cocked her head. “Ship’s slowing, someone’s coming to pick up June.”

Tiago turned and saw June standing at the airlock door. All cleaned up, wearing a grey jumpsuit Yuki had given him with a
Takara Bune
patch on its chest.

“Be safe,” Tiago told him.

“I talked to my parents,” June said. “We’re going to immigrate as far downstream from Placa del Fuego as we can.”

“Well,” Tiago said, “good luck.”

They awkwardly moved past each other. Tiago turned and saw him silhouetted at the edge of the airlock, eagerly looking to return to his safe, calm world.

He found Nashara and Goz pulling a wheeled bag up the corridor.

“No,” Tiago said. “You didn’t listen to anything I said, did you? Goz can’t come. Not with those dreadlocks. He stands out. And Kay will be looking for you, Nashara. You’re easy to spot. I’m just another gutter-boy. But you, with your dreadlocks and attitude, that will get us noticed.”

“You don’t know half of what I’m capable of,” Nashara said icily.

“No, but I have a good idea what Kay is capable of,” Tiago said.

“Kay is not a problem,” Nashara said.

“You’ll get us killed. It has to be Gina or Yuki. They will not stand out nearly as much.” Tiago did his best to ignore the wheeled bag. If they’d done what he said, there was enough gold in there to last him a lifetime.

Gina or Yuki didn’t look street smart.

There were … options if either of them came with that heavy bag.

Maybe, just maybe … but no, he thought. Nashara could read him like an open book. He couldn’t even think about stealing that gold.

Besides, they were they going to let him stay on this ship, like he’d wanted, weren’t they?

Nashara had said she’d strongly consider it.

That was something.

Nashara looked down at the bag, then right at Tiago. “Goz is the engineer. He goes with us. And I’m along to make sure everything happens exactly as we need it to. Understand?”

Tiago swallowed. She’d sniffed the potential weakness on him.

He had put them at risk. If he’d smelled trustworthy to her otherworldy senses, she might have allowed the plan to go the way he’d presented it. Now he had Nashara walking around with him, which meant they’d stick out.

Kay might find them.

He took a deep breath.

#

Tiago took the lead. At the docks, out in the sweltering sun and unfiltered air at last, he purchased heavy fireproof clothes from a second-hand shop. They spent time beating the cloaks against a dirty, oily back street until he felt they looked ragged enough.

He forced Goz and Nashara to wear protective eyewear and use strips of cloth to tie their locks tight against their heads in a bundle. A large-brimmed metal hat obscured the deception.

“You look like over-prepared, hardworking merchants from Reception making a visit,” he said.

They purchased a fare to Placa del Fuego. Tiago found himself sitting on a deck cushion aboard a hydrofoil ferry with Goz on one side, Nashara on the other.

By evening they sailed into the harbor, slowly easing past the massive wind turbines looming out of the still harbor waters.

Tiago swallowed, his mouth dry and ashy with fear.

When the ship yanked its parasails back down to the deck and they coasted into the docks, he wrapped the old cloak he’d purchased tight around him and led them down off the docks with all the outward appearance of calm.

The truth was, Tiago’s hands shook when he made change for one of the cable cars running along the harbor road.

“Come on.”

They rattled along, passing warehouses and the nighttime bar crowds with cash-filled pockets and alcohol-fogged minds, until they got to Yelasu Shipyard. The skeletons of several sail ships lay on the ground or in large cradles.

Tiago pointed out the two-hundred-foot catamaran with no masts currently pulled out of the water near the muddy flats. Instead of cabins, the center platform had a pair of massive cradles. Large smokestacks jutted at an angle from one of the hulls, but not the other, giving it an unbalanced look.

“It’s a steamship,” he said to Goz. “The center of it has this big opening, for spools of wire. They use it to lay down telegraph wire between here and the floating cities.”

Goz stared at the ungainly catamaran.

“If you know exactly where Pepper is,” Tiago continued. “You can drop Nashara down to fetch him, right?”

If he could survive down there, somehow, then she could do the same, right? That’s what he’d asked.

Nashara didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then she took a deep breath. “That’s what we hope,” she told him. Then she looked at Goz. “What do you think?”

“We’ll need to use our own cable; that stuff is for shallower water. Nanotube filament will hold you down to that length. But it might break. You understand?”

“Buy the ship,” Nashara ordered. “And charter the captain. And the crew. I want it in the water and offshore before anyone even knows that the hell is happening. I’m talking hours, understand? We don’t want to be standing here if the Doaq shows up.”