“Leyla, meet Skye,” Ari says. “Yes, she insisted on following me to London, all the way from my home in the Faroe Islands. Skye, this is Leyla.”
“Hey, Skye.” I wave and hold up Jojo, who barks happily.
The dolphin flaps a fin and I laugh. I peer into the water and find myself imagining Ari in it, playing with the creature. I turn to him.
I open my mouth and then close it again, color warming my cheeks. But I need to know. “What does it feel like, Ari? How does it feel to swim out there? Do you ever feel afraid?”
His expression brightens as he meets my gaze, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. My stomach flutters at the sight of him. He’s washed and shaved and his face is all sharp angles again, his smooth, dark-gold skin glistening where it’s still damp.
His eyes shine. “When we know a place is safe, then being at one with the ocean, moving with it, is the best feeling in the world, Leyla. It feels free. Like you with your racing, yes?”
“Yes,” I say, breathlessly. “That’s how racing makes me feel. That’s why I love it so much. It’s freedom and endless possibilities.”
He holds my gaze a little longer, tentative affection flashing in his own, before gesturing to a tray of warm food he brought in for us. “You don’t like it when it turns cold. So, how’s your father doing?”
The gentle evening waves lap at the windows as we sit to eat in the mellow apricot glow of the Lumi-Orb. Jojo tucks into her own bowl. Spicy scents waft from the biryani, warming the room.
“He’s resting,” I say. “It’ll be a while before the fluids and medicine kick in, but at least we’ve started. It could’ve been even worse.”
I sigh. Papa’s with me, and he’ll be all right. Jojo’s fully recovered. Neither Ari nor I are hurt. The Kabul survived the onslaught. And we’re well away from any security bases and borders. My heart expands. There’s very real magic in feeling safe.
“I can’t believe he’s with us,” I say, chewing the rice. “I’m so worried I’ll wake up tomorrow and this will all have just been a dream, you know?”
He nods slowly, a gleam in his eye. “You did it. You never gave up.” His expression turns abruptly somber then. “You’re okay? You weren’t hurt?”
“I’m good, thank you. It could have gone wrong so many times. . . . I can’t believe how lucky we were.” I’m stunned we did it; my legs still haven’t stopped trembling. “Are you all right? You were . . . amazing, you know—in the water? Thank you so much.”
His eyes shine and he nods in reply.
Jojo’s full and curls up beside us. We finish eating and sip warm drinks as we sit side by side on the cushions, gazing into the calm current outside. Even in the darkness, it’s clear from the sub’s fore lights that the water is different this far north, so much clearer. It must look beautiful in the daytime and natural light. Maybe we can climb a little in the morning and see it.
I recall watching the sun reflected in the current, the intensity of the moment. An experience Ari wanted to share with me. I’m acutely aware of how close we’re sitting now.
Once we’ve finished our drinks I sneak a peek at him; he’s staring into the water ahead, his thoughts somewhere far away.
He turns to catch my gaze. “You’ve found your father,” he says. He clears his throat. “I must think about returning home now.”
I swallow and nod. “Oh. Of course . . . I have Papa back, and your family will be waiting for your return.”
He was only ever here because Grandpa didn’t want me to be alone. He should be home. I try to imagine the sub without his presence but it’s impossible. An ache spreads in my chest. I try to picture him back home with his family. The red-haired guy back at the prison pops into my head, and my eyebrows shoot up.
“There was a guy at the prison. He swam up through the moon pool and—”
I said “guy.” Not “Anthropoid.” I know Ari’s noticed, too, because the most tender expression lights up his face.
“Jack,” he says. “That’s Jack Taylor. I thought you might need help and contacted—”
“Oh my God—”
“I was worried. I’d never forgive myself if—”
“No, I mean oh my God—Jack Taylor! I knew he seemed familiar! But what the hell? He died in the last London Marathon!”
Ari watches me as my mind races. How they never found Jack’s body . . .
How his little sister, Becca, always speaks of him as if he’s still alive . . .
Jack is not her imaginary friend!
“Oh my God, he never died, did he? He was an Anthropoid!”
I can’t believe it. Is the whole family Anthropoids? And who else might be one? Thoughts gather and swirl inside my head until it’s all I can do to shake it.
“There’s just so much I didn’t know, Ari. . . . And so much more I need to learn.”
He reaches into his pocket and produces one of the chips I swiped at the prison. I’d handed my findings over to him, to check if he could glean anything from them.
“One of them is useless, and I haven’t tested the third one yet,” he says. “But this one is full of files.”
My eyes dart from the technology to him. “I’d forgotten all about them; I thought they were probably rubbish! Maybe it holds Papa’s prison file?”
He shakes his head. “The prisoners’ files need a pass code, so they’re inaccessible. Sorry. But there’s information on Bia.”
“What?” I straighten. “Show me.”
Ari brings the info up. Not a document, but a whole file on her. Bia Achebe. And then a list of her crimes. My pulse races as I read on. There’s so much more to Bia and her group.
None of which I would’ve guessed about them.
From what I can gather, Bia’s lot have been wanted by the Blackwatch for years. And Captain Sebastian has especially been on their case, never easing up. They keep outwitting the authorities, though. According to the file, the group have tried, several times, to “expose the government’s sensitive action undertaken to preserve our heritage and ensure our survival,” but so far have always been successfully blocked. A paragraph from a piece penned by the group, that Bia tried but failed to have released, catches my attention:
. . . Furthermore, the government is solely responsible for the existence and spread of the seasickness. The fear this administration has dedicated itself to promoting is the cause for this epidemic of malaise. Such dangerous and delusional behavior is unacceptable from our leaders. We have concluded the government is incompetent, acting out of fear. Their policies—all created in a state of fear—have and will cause irreparable harm unless abolished with immediate effect. We shall continue to monitor the authorities and to make their failings known. They were elected to act in our best interests—that is their job. The government works for us. We will not be silenced. Look around you. Forget “ No past, no future,” and ponder, if you will, “No truth, no future.” Resist.
There’s a sour taste in my mouth and my stomach quivers.
I turn to Ari. “They’re right, aren’t they? The seasickness is not something linked to the water. Oh my God . . . What if all those sufferers, all those who’ve taken their lives—Camilla included—what if they could’ve been saved if so much fear didn’t exist? What if the illness isn’t inevitable? It exists because of how we think and feel . . . and how we think and feel has been informed by our leaders.” My face heats. “How dare they, though. How dare they do what they do, and then turn around and blame it on innocent people? They accused Papa of doing what they’re guilty of!”