His eyes are whirlpools of protest. “I promise we’ll try again; we’ll come back when—”
“Ari, you’re just going to have to trust me—and hope for the best. I’m not leaving this place without my papa. And this is our best chance of seeing this through.”
“Okay. Then let me go. It doesn’t have to be in the sub. I can swim down there; we are fast, Leyla. Let me—”
“And then what? If you go in without a sub, how will you bring Papa back?”
He throws his hands up in the air.
“Ari, we’re wasting precious time!”
He leans in. Just when I’m expecting more objections, he nods, though unease lingers at the corners of his mouth. My heart skips a beat as we lock gazes this close. Just beneath the fire in his eyes is something else. . . . He’s at once veiled and blazing bright.
“What?” I ask. “What is it, Ari?”
“If you panic, it could be fatal,” he says. He lowers his voice to a whisper now and rubs the back of his neck. “I need you to come back, Leyla.”
My insides flip. I nod, wishing we had more time.
“Alert me if you need my help,” he continues. “Tell me instantly, and I will be down there. If anyone can do this, you can. The fear . . . it’s only in your mind, remember. There’s nothing terrifying in the spaces you can’t see.”
“Yes.” I nod away, trying not to think too much about it.
Ari moves back to meet my gaze. “You’re confident you are familiar enough with the prison’s plans? And what weapons are you taking?”
“I know the layout and where Papa’s cell is, and I read your own notes, too. I have my brolly for any human guards.” I gesture to the small bag. “I have the tools. They don’t normally use the robot officers until midmorning, but there’s always the chance they might call on them earlier—especially if Bia’s guy is successful with creating a distraction. Hopefully none will cross my path, though. And I already have all the files—including the prison’s blueprints.” The sub lurches. “I have to go,” I say.
He looks at me once more. “You can do this, Leyla.” He nods and strides out of the room.
I lock the door and I’m soon through the hatch and inside the adjacent compact space, acclimatizing to the pressure outside.
Okay, time to go. I take several deep breaths. The hatch releases, and I’m now through to the moon pool.
I can do this. It’s similar to the marathon out there. Just a bunch of obstacles and challenges, that’s all. I push forward on both the joystick and throttle and the craft nose-dives a little. It immediately rocks in all the turbulence. The door closes above me. My heart stutters.
It’s nothing like the marathon.
It’s a massacre. I cry out at the onslaught of vessels, robots, and firepower all around me. Flames from bulky shapes and shadows burst into being, burning bright for one brief moment before fading to nothing. I shift in my seat, taking it all in. Focus. I gulp and straighten, peering into the depths. Somewhere directly below me is the prison.
And its only entrance closes again soon.
Each time my failed attempt at a freefall pops into my head, I have to shake it away. The terror is still too fresh. I take deep breaths. I can do this. You won the London Marathon! There’s nothing to fear; the dread is all in my mind.
The constant shifting of the waves in all the action decreases visibility. I grit my teeth and check the depth gauge. The craft’s wings retract, folding against the sub’s body.
I move into place so I can fall just close enough to the prison, and grimace as I cut the power. Bismillah. My body tenses. See, nothing to it.
My insides heave at the sudden drop.
The compact sub plummets through the void, hurtling toward only God knows what.
Flickering chaos. Lights. Fire. Lasers. Crafts whooshing past me. Froth. Bots darting by. Flashing “jellyfish” tentacles.
I’m falling, falling, falling. And the dread just keeps on rising.
Anything could happen. I’m plunging through a great big nothing, and just about anything could be hiding down there in the veiled abyss, deep in the shadows where only terror slithers, waiting. Oh God. A familiar feeling tries to surface—the eternal fear clawing, trying to drag me down with it.
I’m not going to make it. I’m going to die. Papa will remain locked up forever.
Papa. His words echo in my head now.
Don’t you know I would sail every current, ride every wave, and dive into any depth, until I found you?
I force myself to focus. The submersible spins on its way to the ocean floor.
I gulp for air, cursing the queasy sensation taking over now. My heartbeat thrashes away in my ears, my chest. My body jerks in every direction as the craft rolls. My stomach churns. I scrunch my face up; I should never have had that warm drink. Fixing my gaze on the seabed is impossible; I just don’t know what I’m looking out for.
A glimmer of something else—a dark surface. It can only be the bottom. I shiver. The flashing chaos lessens around me. The shadow sharpens as the seabed pulls me closer. There are no lights there to guide me. I keep my eyes locked on the darkness as it grows closer. Wait . . . wait for it. . . . At the last possible moment, I power back up and skim the pitch-black rugged terrain. The altitude warning light blinks away.
I take long, deep breaths to combat the dizziness; I need all my focus now. I spin around in the seat, twisting my neck in every direction as I peer out.
I made it. . . . I actually managed to fall through it all without being hit—and without letting the dread conquer me!
Hazy silhouettes move far above me, but there’s nobody down here. I inhale and blow my cheeks out as I try to navigate the structure. It looks like a giant, sprawling rock, designed, like the Trading Post at Cambridge, to resemble a natural part of the seabed. I pull back on the throttle and the craft slows down. I circle the entire structure—nothing. I shift in my seat and groan. Somewhere is the entrance to a moon pool. But where? The ground ripples. I peer closer and shudder.
Enormous arachnids scurry along the seabed. Ugh. Dark, webbed spiders dragging some kind of tail behind them, and spindly white spiders with the longest legs, like they’re on stilts. Two of the ghostly spiders are fighting. One raises its legs and swings at the other, pushing it back. Into nothing. The spider vanishes. It literally disappears before my eyes. Into the rock.
I press my face against the dome, and there it is: the tiniest hint of a glimmer. They’re concealing the entrance using a projection. My pulse races.
I take a deep breath and charge into the rock face.
I pass straight through the projection and find myself in an enclosed passage. Ahead, light trickles down through the waves. The moon pool!
I speed toward it, then pull back on the joystick and forward on the throttle. The sub rockets through the pool. A robotic arm lowers toward me. My heart beats faster and faster. I peer out in every direction. I don’t have long.
Nobody’s around in the moon pool room or smaller chamber, and I’m soon through all the hatches. I grab my brolly and exit. Curse the trembling. I wipe my sweaty palm and reach for the door’s release.
I shiver. I’m in a long, freezing-cold corridor. A siren wails away. The stench of damp and rot is suffocating, scratching at my throat.