It’s absolute chaos out there.
A chill comes over me as I take in the scene in the distance, hoping it remains well away from the docking bay.
All manner of submersibles light up the ashen depths, hovering and darting around. Laser beams shoot through the water. Firepower on both sides bursts brilliant and bright in the gloom, before succumbing to the water and sputtering out of sight. Will everyone at the Trading Post and Den be safe?
“Oscar, what’s going on? What’s the update with the propeller? And where is Ari?”
The Navigator tilts his head. “My dear lady, the Kabul herself is ready for departure. All defense systems are running. Her propeller has been serviced back to its former glory, and we are poised for voyage. It is most tiresome, then, to reveal that we remain stationed due to the mooring equipment anchoring the vessel to the workstation. It would appear those in charge of releasing the Kabul have—rather understandably under the circumstances—absconded from the vicinity! And so the gentleman, Ari, was left with no choice but to take a gander at releasing us from the workstation himself. He left just before your good self arrived. I was to contact you in a short while to inform you of departure and beckon you on board.”
“Oh God . . .” I groan, watching the clash unfold. “What if—” An ice-cold current surges through me as the shadowy silhouettes of several submersibles involved in the attack register.
Bia was right. It’s definitely the Blackwatch.
My pulse races. What if they identify me? What if they manage to stop us? Who would search for Papa then?
The Navigator cocks his head. “I say, this Ari fellow is as masterly as he is dashing; I do believe the Kabul is moving. Take heart, my dear; we shall flee this cumbersome folly at once.”
I slump against the window in relief. “Oh, thank God! Oscar, soon as Ari’s back on board, be sure to lock the moon pool door!”
Slowly but surely the vessel starts to pull away from the hatch. A hazy form in the distance heads toward us.
“Oscar, I see our submersible! Watch the moon pool and be ready to lock up the moment Ari’s through!”
The silhouette drifts toward the submarine. Where are the craft’s lights? I can barely make anything out—Ari could be hurt! As the form draws near it becomes gradually clear I was mistaken; it isn’t our submersible, but some kind of sea creature. It comes closer.
And closer. My pulse races as the animal closes the distance between itself and the sub. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as the realization settles. It isn’t a sea creature.
It’s one of them. An Anthropoid.
No. No, no, no. Not now.
I try to call out. Oscar. Ari. But no sound leaves my lips. I stand frozen. I close my eyes. Think. I can’t.
I start shivering as my recurring nightmare sneaks up on me now. I’m a little girl again, gazing out at the water, so carefree, happy. And then someone is in the water, suspended there. The moment is all too brief. The water clouds, the current suddenly furious and furtive. And a terrible turmoil rides in on the waves. It takes over my body, restricting my breathing, my muscles and bones. It leaves nothing but destruction and despair in its wake. And a permanent dread forever afterward. . . .
Except this isn’t my childhood nightmare—this is real.
I open my eyes and look out. I can’t spot the beast. Where is it? My breathing turns raspy. I clutch my chest, my throat. Oh my God . . . the sub. Is the sub secure? Where’s the Anthropoid got to?
A figure rises from the depths, right in front of the viewport. I scream.
Its eyes are wide, frenzied; its hair spans around its head, and the thing gestures wildly. Water flows in and out of its mouth, as if it were air. Unnatural.
I stop screaming. Then I slowly shake my head as I stare back at it. Its hair. Its face.
Its eyes.
Ari’s eyes.
Ari.
I can’t move, can’t blink. It isn’t real. This is not real. It can’t be him.
And yet it is.
I don’t understand. . . . I don’t understand it.
A thousand feet of tremendous pressure are pushing down on him, but Ari’s showing no sign of it. . . . He’s moving freely. His lungs and ribs haven’t collapsed, his bones haven’t snapped, he isn’t being crushed to death. He’s shirtless. In freezing temperatures. All he’s wearing are his usual black bottoms, no shoes, no socks. The beaded necklace hangs around his neck, the knife around his waist.
It can’t be real. It’s not true. Ari is human!
Inside, I’m sinking, slowly making my way down through an endless nothing.
Ari moves as close as possible, and places his hand on the window. His eyes search my face. Desperately searching for something. His expression pleads with me. But neither my mind nor my body will cooperate. I can think only one thing.
Ari is an Anthropoid.
I take a step back.
His lips part and anguish gushes out. Pain washes into his eyes and contorts his face.
My heart lurches then, a real physical tugging inside my chest. I can’t bear to see him in any kind of pain. But still I don’t move.
His hand comes away from the window. He stares at me.
And plummets out of sight.
A moment passes. A few more. Something shifts and stirs inside me and suddenly there are too many emotions, too many questions. I can’t breathe. Please, God, help me.
I gulp at the air and push everything deep down until only the instinct to survive remains.
“Oscar . . .” I whisper. Then louder. “Oscar.” My throat aches now.
He materializes in front of me, acknowledging my presence before turning to gaze into the water.
“The moon pool door, Oscar. Close it at once. Close it now.”
I can’t move as I peer past the Navigator and into the depths. I’m frozen, and yet I can’t stop shaking inside. The water shifts and courses around the viewport and I squint. Nothing.
“The moon pool door is now locked, my dear,” Oscar confirms. “I can assure you, the Kabul is currently quite secure in every respect.”
The vessel backs away from the chaos and starts to rise.
All ability to process the situation has abandoned me. I’m a bot.
“Oscar? Revoke Ari’s primary rights, all access—everything. Do it at once.”
The Navigator turns from the windows to face me and bows his head. His gaze then shifts past me to settle somewhere behind me.
“Sir, I’m afraid I must recall all security clearances and privileges granted to your good self.”
Oh dear God.
I turn around.
Ari stands there, his shoulders rising and falling as water drips from him, and a resentful look simmers in his eyes. My body feels heavy enough to sink the vessel.
I’m confined alone in a submarine with an Anthropoid.
But it’s Ari, my heart whispers.
Still, I take a step back.
“Please, Leyla,” Ari says, holding up a hand. “Don’t be afraid of me.”
“You’re—” I swallow and try again, my throat aching and dry. “You’re one of them.”
I have my back to the viewport, and he hasn’t moved from where he stood.
“I am. But please—think about it. Up until a few hours ago you thought humanity would be returning to the surface any day now. That is clearly a lie the government has been upholding for years. Until recently you thought your father was detained in London—another lie. Don’t you think it’s possible they might also be lying to you about us? We’re not—”