Ari insists he’s been himself all along. But he’s not what Anthropoids are like, so that can’t be true.
And then I can’t help but think back on the Anthropoid who attacked me in the engine room . . . how it paused for one brief moment. Paused and looked at me with sympathy. And how, along with the hatred and rage on its face, there was very definitely also a hint of pain etched there. Suffering. What does it mean?
And Ari’s explanation of their past . . . of what transpired at the labs when the PM first set eyes on the Anthropoids. It’s so different from the official account; if our government’s record of the event were false, surely there’d be some trail of the truth? I can’t wrap my head around it.
The government has lied about other things, too.
They have. They do. But I can’t do anything about it. I just wish I could forget all this, dammit. All of it. I want to block it out. I need to. I need to focus fully on Papa.
I yawn again. I didn’t sleep well. After dinner last night, I collected all Ari’s things from around the sub and set the guest room up for him. I didn’t mind before. But now I really need to know he has his own space, that he won’t be in mine too much. The soothing, low music I thought he sometimes listens to is actually a wooden sax he plays, and I put that away for him, too. It never occurred to me that Anthropoids might play musical instruments. . . . Just after midnight, I woke up to him crying out, sheer panic in his voice. I recognized Lance’s name. He also called out to someone called Freya. I stood outside his room, listening. I never considered Anthropoids might dream. . . . He sounded distraught but quieted down after a few minutes, and I crept back to bed.
Sleep still evaded me, though, and it wasn’t just Ari’s shocking identity on my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking of the government’s massive lie about living on the surface.
How can we ever feel safe and secure about anything else they do or say?
Relaxing music plays in the saloon. I finally finished unpacking yesterday. Personal items have been placed throughout the sub. The place looks perfect. It would feel perfect, too, if I could just forget what Ari is . . .
Until I’ve found Papa, I need to at least try.
I finish my tea and look out again. “Oscar? Where are we?”
The Navigator appears, wearing a satin floral dressing gown. “My dear, we are approaching York.”
My mouth falls open. York. Territory I never, not once, ever imagined I’d actually cross. I’m here, in the wilder waters of Great Britain. Outside of the safe capital.
As I gaze out at the current, it shifts suddenly, a shadow descending. I stiffen, taking a step back. A flexible sheet of some kind materializes in the depths ahead. It drifts toward us, until it settles right on the sub’s bow. Whoa!
I peer harder. It’s a piece of the material that connects the groups of solar panels up on the surface. I shake my head. It’s not obstructing the very front of the viewport, and it isn’t entirely opaque either—more a gauzy material. But still, it’s not good. We’d be oblivious to anything approaching from that side until it was too late. I move closer and can see where it’s got caught. Hmm, a simple nudge would do it. . . . I stare into the turquoise waters. The cleanest I’ve seen. I picture the moon pool and will myself not to imagine the worst, to stop feeling so afraid.
I straighten and, wringing my hands, turn to the Navigator. “Oscar, tell me about the Kabul’s submersible.”
I shift in the seat. The submersible is more spacious than Tabby’s single-
seated cockpit. It’s shaped like an egg—a translucent egg on its side caged in titanium. The vessel rests in a smaller room, off the airtight chamber. Jojo wags her tail in the seat beside me. I pull the toggle switch toward me and power up the craft. Oscar’s face appears above the dashboard.
“Salutations, my dear lady! Would you like a demonstration?”
“Hey, Oscar. Actually, I think I’ve got it now.” I buckle up. “You passed my message on to Ari?”
“I did apprise Ari, my dear. One feels it isn’t quite prudent to repeat his exact words, but I do believe he was somewhat scandalized at the news of you—”
The door slides open, and Ari climbs into the submersible beside me. He picks up a delighted Jojo and places her in his lap. I stare at him. And then at Jojo.
She makes contented sounds as he strokes her. I don’t understand. How come she doesn’t perceive anything wrong with him? Daft thing. Surely her senses should’ve picked up his identity from the moment she met him?
You mean like yours did?
Ari gazes ahead, his brow furrowed. “Oscar,” he commands, “you will secure the moon pool door as soon as we leave. You’ll remain stationary until we return. Any problem and you will alert us instantly.”
“Alas! It distresses me to notify your good self that I am unable to take any security orders from you, sir.”
Silence. Even I’d forgotten I’d taken away his primary rights.
Ari is still. “Then could you at least ensure you’ve taken them from Leyla?”
I sigh. “Oscar, please carry out the security requests. And tell Ari I know what I’m doing. I don’t need him with me for this. It’s just for a few minutes, for goodness’ sake.”
Ari strokes Jojo. “Oscar, tell Leyla I know she can take care of herself. She’s demonstrated so. But this is why I am here. I promised her grandfather I would keep an eye on her. Especially when she insists on leaving the safety of the Kabul.”
I fold my arms. “Oscar, explain to Ari why we can’t have a partially obstructed viewport.”
Ari pauses, before clearing his throat. “I can do it . . .” he says quietly. “I could just swim to it and free it. You won’t be placing yourself in any danger then.”
I grimace. There it is again. Another reminder. I just don’t want to be reminded. I straighten with relief when loud bleeping offers a distraction.
Soon the submersible is through the hatch and inside the smaller chamber. I don’t feel a thing as my body gradually acclimatizes to the pressure of the water outside, and before I know it, we’re through the safety hatches. The hefty moon pool door releases. A robotic arm above us carries us over and places the sub down in the large opening, right into the water. I stare at the depths, taking deep breaths and doubting my decision.
It’s an opening into the unknown.
I fiddle with the joystick until I can delay it no longer, and push it forward. Bismillah.
The submersible descends into the abyss below.
Small wings emerge from the vessel’s sides. I hover a couple of meters beneath the shadow of the submarine. The small craft rocks in the higher currents. I look around in every direction. The Kabul overhead makes it difficult to see much.
Once Oscar’s assured me the moon pool door is closed, I move out of the submarine’s shadow and make my way around to the front.
The sheet is larger than I first thought, with most of it hanging below the vessel. It takes several nudges and tight maneuvers before it’s dislodged from the viewport and slinks away. I turn around, take the strange waters in, and hold my breath.
It’s the first time in my entire life that I’m sat in a submersible outside of London. I’m actually here in waters I’ve only ever before viewed on maps and screens.