If only the familiar, brilliant white light of the streetlamps somehow reflected up here as well. And how strange not to be confronted by the shadowy shapes of buildings towering above me. Some of the sea life is also different. The craft’s harsh lights captivate groups of vividly patterned fish. All the warnings about the unknown terrors of the deep surface; I shiver.
Where’s Jojo, for goodness’ sake? I call out for the puppy and am met with a faint, happy bark from somewhere but no return. I summon Oscar instead.
The Navigator appears in a fabulous number: a ruffled shirt and seriously decorative breeches. He pats his hair as if conscious of his appearance.
“Any problems, Oscar?”
“No problems, my dear. We are on course for the stopover at the Brighton Pier resort. Though authorities are present in the area, there are no reports yet of any possible obstruction to our trajectory. May I assist you with anything?”
“Look at it,” I whisper.
He joins me in observing the passing environment.
“It’s—it’s quite scary, isn’t it?”
He turns to me with a quizzical expression. “Why is the scene frightening to you?”
“Well, when it’s too dark to see, just about anything could be hiding out there.”
“My dear lady, the true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.”
His voice is whimsical; I like it. “But if you can see it, how can it remain a mystery? It’s visible, so you know what it is. How can that be as scary as not knowing? No, Oscar.” I shake my head slowly as I absorb the scene. “I can’t imagine anything worse than not knowing.”
The submarine gives a slight heave; I tense. Food. That’s what I need.
I take a plate of steaming Kabuli pulao back into the saloon along with a snack for Jojo, if the overexcited puppy ever decides to show up. Scattering two plush cushions from a pile at the side of the viewport, I sit cross-legged and tuck into the delicious rice and meat, its spicy saffron aroma taking over.
Is it a good idea to eat a yummy meal while you peek out at a never-
ending mass of water and imagine yourself sinking? Probably not. Virgos like to worry, Papa told me. They like keeping it real. Hmm, maybe not that bloody real, though. I avert my eyes.
Rice flies from my mouth when Oscar appears beside me without warning. I must get used to that.
“My dear lady, Belvedere approaches.”
“Thank you, Oscar.”
The vessel presses on. As I watch, something bobs into view in the distant light. It drifts into the sharper illumination alongside the vessel. What on earth is it? No. I jolt, crying out. My hand flies to my mouth, and a cold chill spreads inside.
It’s a bloated corpse. It’s decaying; an adult, I’m sure. Hair fans out around their face, their mouth open and eyes fixed with a hollow stare. The harsh light of the vehicle compounds the already pitiful state. The body is tangled in ropes and a thin material: a homemade sail. My throat goes dry. The poor, poor person.
They must have tried to survive on the surface.
Since the planet’s transformation, there’ve been random and violent storms up there. Fatal waves wreck anything and everything. Even the engineers maintaining the solar panels and spheres, satellite dishes, and oxygen pipes wear protective clothing when visiting the surface. We’re safer down here. I don’t understand; why do some people risk everything to try and live up there before it’s safe enough for us to do so?
The body meanders onward in the cold light spreading from the craft, rotating as it goes. It’s soon out of sight. An image of Papa unconscious at the labs flashes before me. An ache pulses in my chest. I head for the passageway, hugging myself.
“Jojo!”
I begin checking those rooms that allow instant access. The puppy’s muffled, content sounds carry up from the lower level. That muppet. I climb downstairs to more of Jojo’s familiar sounds. What on earth? They’re coming from the control room. It doesn’t make sense. How did Jojo access the room?
I enter the control room. Jojo’s fine, thank goodness. She’s eating some kind of treat beside the sonar station. The puppy wags her tail in greeting.
“Jojo? How’d you get in here? And where did you get that biscuit?”
I glance around. Is there a second entrance point? Impossible.
Something flits right on the edge of my vision. What the— My pulse quickens.
Did I imagine it? No, I definitely saw something.
I move past the communications board, making my way around the room. What the hell is going on? I hold my stomach, dragging my feet. Again, something catches the corner of my eye. My hands tremble; if only I had my brolly on me. I jerk, swinging my gaze to the right. My palms sweat. There’s nothing there.
I turn the corner by a huge locker and jump, shrieking. My eyes wide and my mouth open, I freeze in position.
Standing still, and with an unreadable expression in those fiery amber eyes, is Ari.
“I don’t believe it. He actually put someone like you on board with me,” I say, pointing at Ari. “I can’t believe Grandpa would do this to me. I thought he’d sent you away!”
His gaze flickers and he folds his arms across his chest. ‘ “Like me?” ’ he demands. His voice is low and husky.
We’re still in the control room, going around in circles about the fact Gramps snuck him on board the submarine the day before. He’s the security measure Grandpa insisted on. Oh, how I regret my hasty promise! And thanks to the no-communication rule, I can’t even vent at anyone. Turning around is out of the question; it’s just begging to be noticed by the authorities.
His eyes narrow, waiting for an answer. He runs his hand through his long, dark hair. Around his neck is a tiny beaded leather string, and a knife hangs from his waist. Why would he need a knife? I shudder; what does he think we’ll encounter out here? He’s wearing a black top and casual bottoms. Stop staring at him.
“Yes, like you,” I say. I’m uncomfortable with him but realize it sounds pathetic. He’s definitely not Theo, though!
He scowls and a muscle flexes by his mouth. “I promised Gideon Abraham I would protect you.” He speaks carefully and assuredly.
“Except I can take care of myself!” I try to gather my thoughts. I’m stuck in a vessel with him. This is really happening. Jojo walks around his legs, wagging her tail. The little traitor. “Jojo? Come here, baby.” After several calls, the puppy finally walks over. I squint as I scoop her up. “What have you done to my dog?”
He cocks a thick, dark eyebrow, and one corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. A faint twinkle appears in the coppery eyes. He’s laughing at me, the dick. “Jojo and I have got to know each other very well. She loves her biscuits.”
Is he really taunting me with my own pet? Enough. I pace the room trying to think of a way out of the situation and come up with nothing. I look up and the stowaway’s watching me with an expression of distrust. He hid on board my property and I’m suspect?
I narrow my eyes. “So you’ve been following me around to ‘protect’ me from others following me around? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
He clenches his jaw. I recall Grandpa’s words about Ari’s own circumstances and regret implying he doesn’t have much else to do. And if he’s only here on his father’s orders, then it must be hell being somewhere you’re not wanted.