When he’s done, he heads straight for the viewport and sits, eyes closed.
Jojo scrambles down and joins him.
“Jojo, come here, baby.” I beckon the puppy with fervent hand gestures that she simply ignores.
Ari plays with her, smiling and delighting in her antics. I cross my arms. He speaks gently, constantly patting and stroking Jojo. She just thinks anything he does is flipping fantastic, daft thing. She’s embarrassing herself, really. At one point, as the puppy tries to impress him with a series of naff acrobatics, he laughs heartily in response.
I tap my feet on the soft rug. A globe of the Old World stands next to me, beside the bronze model of a cat curled up. Leaving via Epping Forest is almost doubling back on ourselves. Still, we survived an Anthropoid attack, thanks to Ari, and a chase by the security forces. Perhaps it might get a little easier?
I consult my maps. Security bases lie on either side of my intended course, and rival shrub gangs also work the area. But if I stick between Dagenham and Barking, I should be safe. Hopefully. With a sinking feeling and a bad taste in my mouth, I instruct Oscar on the new directions and the sub turns northwest, toward Epping Forest.
It’s not like Tabby to have warned me against passing over the forest without good reason. But one way or another, I’m getting out of London tonight.
I pray I’ve made the right choice.
Everything always makes much more sense after a cup of tea. I sip the soothing liquid and nibble on a scone as I watch the sub pierce London’s waters, in the direction of the forest.
Jojo’s exercising. A juicy bone floats around the room, rising and dipping teasingly. No matter how fast the puppy is, the projection is always faster. Why didn’t she alert me to Ari’s presence? She’s meant to be loyal to me. Her limp’s entirely gone; thank goodness he tended to her.
I recall Grandpa’s words: He’s here to ensure your safety.
The tea does the trick. Making Ari a cup, I head to the control room. He’s not there, and I trace him to the engine room.
A constant thrumming greets me as I enter the hot space. A maze of pipes curve all around, running along the sides and even above my head. Dials, levers, valves, and tanks, in all shapes, sizes, and materials, surround me. I walk on until I spot him.
He’s shirtless, sweat gleaming across his back and shoulders. He pauses to check every valve, read each dial. His golden-copper tinted skin twitches as the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back flex with the movements. How can anyone look both graceful and incredibly strong at the same time?
I quickly avert my gaze, slosh some tea in my haste, and moan.
He glances in my direction, his gaze as piercing as ever. Concern breaks through his expression.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” Don’t you dare blush. “You know Oscar will alert us to anything that needs checking? And the readings in the control room are all looking fine.”
He nods. “I just wanted to be sure. Some things only crop up once the vessel’s underway. But so far, so good.”
I place the cup down. “Erm, tea.”
He stares at the cup, slight surprise surfacing in his eyes. When he catches mine, his gaze is swiftly shuttered once more. He passes by me to check a pressure gauge—barefoot and looking right at home. He smells like warm wood, leaves, and water. Perhaps a forest might have smelled like him.
“I don’t like tea,” he says. “I only drink coffee.”
What the hell. Who doesn’t like tea? And to think he’s suspicious of others? “Well, that’s too bad. I don’t like coffee so I only brought tea on board.”
“I have everything I need.”
Argh. He isn’t the only one who wishes he wasn’t aboard my sub. He’s maddening and I really don’t like him. But there’s something I need to ask. “What do you know about my papa? Anything I don’t?”
The question catches him off guard, and he stares at me before leaning back against a tank, slipping his hands in his pockets. His face is flushed, his skin radiant and his eyes bright. “That depends,” he finally says, his expression as guarded as ever, “on what you know.”
“Papa went to work one day and never came home. The police told me he’d been arrested for aiding seasickness sufferers in taking their own lives—a rotten lie. Grandpa finally told me the truth recently, that it was the Blackwatch who took him away. The authorities said Papa was being kept in London—another lie. Grandpa knows he was taken out of the city. Not a single shred of evidence has been produced to back the accusations against Papa. And that’s everything I know. You?”
His brow furrows slightly as he stares intently. Then he’s guarded once more and shrugs.
“I’m only here because my father insisted I help his friend. Your grandfather’s asked me to ensure you get to King’s Lynn safely. Once you’re at his cottage, I go back to my own life. That’s all I know.”
I hold his gaze, unblinking.
Finally the amber depths in his eyes flicker and shift and he sighs. “Did you ever question anything before your father went missing?”
“Like what?”
“Did you ever hear of others going missing before your father?”
I try to remember. “Sometimes, yes. Rumors here and there. But they were arrested because they’d done something criminal.”
He raises an eyebrow.
I glare at him. “My papa’s innocent!”
“I know,” he says.
My mouth opens; I close it again. It’s always such a relief anytime someone agrees!
“And,” he continues, a bitter tone creeping into his voice, “just maybe those other people who disappeared were also innocent? Did you never wonder about that?” He removes his hands from his pockets and folds his arms. “You people . . . Always content with your own lives no matter what’s going on with somebody else, somewhere else—as long as you’re fine. Always believing everything you’re told.”
I shift on my feet. Why am I “you people”? He truly is maddening! “What do you mean? Why would I suspect ordinary arrests—”
He straightens, clenching his mouth and raking his hand through his hair. He averts his eyes, as if he regrets his outburst. “Look, I told you. I’m just here to make sure you’re safe. When we reach the cottage in King’s Lynn, I’m done.”
I open my mouth, but before I’ve got a word out, Oscar appears.
“My dear lady, it would appear we have sailed into contested shrub turf. We are, most unfortunately, in the center of quite a rumpus between rival gangs.”
We both rush back upstairs to the saloon. I shake my head as I absorb the information and peer into the water. Despite knowing about the danger, I still managed to walk right into it.
“Oscar, switch to defensive mode immediately and stay alert,” I say.
“Hit them,” Ari urges, baring his teeth. “Hit them all now so we can be on our way.”
“Well, of course I bloody won’t. The Kabul’s been updated with the best defense systems; we have to trust in Deathstar’s and Theo’s tech. Those subs aren’t interested in us; they’re fighting among themselves. If we race through it, they’ll see we’re not a threat.”