by Eliza Taye
Tugging my purple exercise tank over my matching purple skin-tight shorts, I started jogging down the road, acting as if I were only out for a morning jog. Out of the corner of my eye, I constantly searched for anyone who might be following me, but there was no one else around.
Still, the encounter yesterday had left me somewhat frazzled. Gran’s reaction only made it worse. I knew she could be a bit of a worrywart sometimes, but usually, nothing scared her. Watching her eyes, as she’d told me to stay away from the guy I’d seen on the beach that claimed to be a private detective—there was fear.
Allowing my thoughts to drift away from the event last night, I instead focused on my music. The next song wasn’t one I particularly liked, so I simply said, “Next song,” and a new one immediately replaced it.
I’d left my bike about half a mile away from the restricted beach, so it only took me about five minutes of jogging at a leisurely place to arrive there. Luckily, the beach was downhill from where I had just come, which would have made it impossible for anyone near the beach to see me hide my bike.
Before I reached the rabbit hole, I jogged in place, scanning the area cautiously. Pausing, I reached down and pretended to tie a loose shoelace. When I rose to my full height, I searched around again. I couldn’t see anyone in the vicinity, but I was still worried.
I jogged past the rabbit hole for a while, peering in every direction—including side to side and up in the air. I wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
Nothing.
Satisfied, I sprinted full speed back to my personal entrance to the beach and scrambled under the fence in record time. Pumping my legs as fast as I could, I darted down the sandy hill towards the ocean and veered right toward the rocky outcroppings that would hide me from the prying eyes of anyone who might pass by. So far, I hadn’t seen or heard anyone driving down the road until the cop car yesterday, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.
Slowing my pace to a casual walk, I danced through the sandy gaps of the jagged rocks until I found a place to sit on one that partially curved upwards like the back of a barstool.
Regretting I had to leave my backpack behind in order to maintain my appearance of a casual jogger, I stared out towards the sea to pass the time.
Today, the wind blew in big sporadic gusts, whipping loose strands of my hair across my face. I pulled out the hair-tie I was wearing and smoothed my hair back up into the ponytail once more. It was no use.
Giving up, I let my hair down to blow wildly, shoving my hair-tie onto my left wrist. Staring out at the ocean, I watched the waves roll in and wash back out. The roar of the sea was louder today, probably because of the increase in wind speed. Out past the breakers, they rolled higher than I had ever seen them before.
Glancing up to the sky with my hand protecting my eyes from the sun’s harmful rays, there didn’t appear to be a cloud in the sky. Clearly, there wasn’t a storm brewing, so it must just be a windy day.
Leaning back on the rock, attempting to get more comfortable on the hard surface, I heard something fall down and clank against a rock onto the sand. Tucking my hair behind my ear to keep it from whacking me in the face as I tried to see what had fallen. My vision came upon what resembled a black, sleek communicator device. Picking it up and twisting it around in my hand, it was clearly no communicator I’d ever seen before. Rounded like a sphere, it was the size of a pool table cue ball with one small indentation of a button on the top.
Wondering if this might be a device from Oceania, I excitedly pressed the black button. A whining sound I had grown accustomed to hearing from robots adjusting their parts emitted from the device, as a small slit opened on part of the spherical surface opposite the button. I felt resistance and vibrations inside the sphere as it popped out of my hand and onto the sand. A bluish-white beam shot into the space directly in front of me and a hologram materialized.
It was Dylan—but only him from the waist up. The rest of him disappeared into the bluish white beam.
“Hi, Allie, sorry I haven’t been able to contact you for a few days. I’m also sorry I had to leave so abruptly at the botanical gardens. Dr. Wilcox told me how he helped you escape Oceania and that you’re using the SCUBAPS. I’m assuming that you made it safely to the surface and have returned to the beach. Well, I mean if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be viewing this right now.”
Dylan’s hologram scratched the back of his head, something I knew Dylan did when he was nervous.
“I got into some really deep trouble for using the seamobile in excess without a prior grant approval, which is why I had to leave you a holomessage. I’m barred from going to the surface, which is why Dr. Wilcox had to help me. He gave me an ‘assignment’ that gives me enough time to get close to the surface. I’m being tracked, so I cannot come to the beach where we meet. Use this device to find your way to a place about ten miles from here to the north. I’m waiting there with Dr. Wilcox in a submarine. Simply plug in the coordinates of this sphere, which I have set to show up every time the button is pressed from now on, and the suit’s GPS will take you there. Hope to see you soon, Allie. Bye.”
Dylan’s holographic image retracted into the device and was immediately replaced with a map listing coordinates at the bottom right-hand corner of the projection.
Wrenching my omniphone off my arm, I quickly jotted down the coordinates so that I’d have my own record of them. Pressing the solitary button, the holographic map disappeared and the sphere returned to an ordinary orb.
If Dylan had stated that he was in big trouble, I wondered if the Master Coders knew about me. Did they know I was a Land Dweller and that I had been illegally visiting their city? Why hadn’t Dylan said more on the holomessage?
Trying to put aside my worries, I placed my omniphone into my pocket and carried the orb with me to where I’d hidden the SCUBAPS and Jet Propulsion 500. At first, I had to search for it, but then I easily found them both wedged in the same crevice I’d placed them in days before.
The sleek, black suit had maintained its shape well, although I noticed it wasn’t quite as skin-tight as before. Then I remembered that it bulged loosely to allow one to put it on easily then snapped skin-tight once it reached the neckline. Placing the suit on one of the nearby rocks, I reached in to get the propulsion device. I’d wedged it in pretty well and had to tug hard to make it come loose.
Glancing around one more time to make sure the place was deserted, I began to suit up. Not wishing to leave anything behind that would arouse suspicion; I put the suit on top of all my clothing. Unfortunately, my sneakers wouldn’t fit, so I left them hidden underneath a rock with my socks stuffed in them. Tugging the material up to my neck, I was thankful for the front zipper design, making it easier for me to close the suit.
The jet propulsion device was another story. I picked it up and tried very awkwardly to place it on my back. It was extremely difficult to attach myself. Just as I lifted it up, it slouched to the left side and I couldn’t sling it onto my back in the correct location. I tried again and it slouched to the right. Twisting and turning, I repeatedly attempted to get it on. Eventually, on the fifth try, I wedged the jet propulsion device into a gap between two close rocks, kneeling and scooting backward until they lined up with the straps. Stretching my arms back so far that they screamed in pain, I latched the jet pack down securely.
Dr. Wilcox would definitely be hearing about how difficult that was. Like a true beta tester, I was going to divulge every single issue with the design.
Having everything that I needed on my body, I plugged the GPS coordinates into the suit and made my way to the sea. Thanks to the suit, my body didn’t register any cold as the waves crashed into me while walking into the surf, but their strength did drive me backward. Fighting the waves, I continued past them into the only slightly calmer waters before diving into the blue of the ocean.
I tried not to focus on the protective camouflage feature of the suit being broken, as I noticed other fish and sea lions in the wate
r along with me. I had yet to see a shark, but I hoped that as usual, they would be solitary and mind their own business. I swam along and waited for my view screen to come alive.
“Hello again, Allie.”
“Hello,” I responded to the A.I. “How long will this trip take?”
“If you dive down another five meters, you will be able to turn on your jet propulsion device and we can be there within the hour.”
“A.I., what time is it now?”
“It is 10:25. ETA is 10:56 a.m.”
I nodded, even though I knew the A.I. wouldn’t be able to register it and dove as instructed to five meters. When I turned on the jet propulsion device, I felt a jerk when it kicked into gear and began speeding me towards my destination. Feeling the resistance of the water increase with my velocity, I peered at the bottom left of my screen to see that my speed was nearly twenty miles an hour.
The water whooshed around me as I sped through the somewhat viscous liquid. Although I was moving fast, I could identify some of the animals I had seen before when swimming off the coast. A pod of common dolphins swam by without paying me any attention, picking off various fish I still had trouble identifying. I also thought I saw what looked like a leopard shark as I whizzed past, but I was moving too fast to be sure. Looking straight ahead, I watched more California sea lions than I’d ever seen in my life heading towards shore.
“Detour necessary,” spoke the A.I., and I felt my direction change.
“Why the detour?”
“The kelp forests. We want to keep you clear of them so you do not become entangled. We need to keep away from the shoreline and go into deeper water.”
“Okay, I understand.” I wasn’t going to argue. There was no way I wanted to die from being tangled up in seaweed.
For a while longer, I continued towards my destination. I began to feel like I was simply floating through a mass of liquid blue until a large object loomed in the distance. Relief flooded over me, I had finally reached the submarine. But then, why hadn’t the A.I. told me that I had arrived?
Within a few seconds, I had my answer.
A great white shark, larger than I’d ever seen before, became clear in front of me. It happened so fast that I couldn’t turn away and bumped into its side fairly hard. The impact rattled my brains and my upper body ached from the collision. The solid muscle beneath its iron gray skin made it feel like I’d collided with a brick wall.
The shark, too, seemed stunned for a second—but only a second. It turned around towards me and it didn’t seem happy. The middle of its body hunched as it turned its fins down. Arching even more, its scrunching form undulated directly at me.
Scrounging up everything I had inside, I tried to remember what I’d learned about how to deter sharks when I went snorkeling with my mother in the Isles of Florida three years ago. It came at me aggressively. Instinctively, I put my hand out and pushed it away on its snout. My body felt frozen in fear for a moment as the shark’s mouth opened in protest to me shooing it away. It turned to the right and began swimming away, but then spun around and came back. Fearing I had only angered it, I braced myself for an attack and got ready to give instructions to the A.I. When the shark was only about three feet from me, I shouted, “A.I., turn on the jet propulsion now!”
Three to four feet wide jaws gaped open at me with teeth surely as sharp as syringes. The gums of the upper jaw thrust out as its teeth moved forward to close the gap between it and me. The jet propulsion sputtered for a second, giving me enough momentum to slide to the side. In the split second it took for the jet propulsion to kick into gear, I reached out and grabbed hold of the shark’s gills, letting the jet propulsion device give me enough momentum to tug on them with enough force to let the shark know I was not something to mess with. Instantly, the shark spun around and quickly swam off.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out with a sigh of utter relief, I pushed the Jet Propulsion 500 to high speed and continued on my course. Not too long afterward, I noticed an object that I was sure was the submarine, and as if to quell any lingering doubts, the A.I. piped up. “We are here, Allie.”
“Thank you,” I replied gratefully, turning off the jet propulsion, and swimming towards the bottom hatch of the submarine.
The hatch jutted out only slightly from the main body of the sub. In the few moments it would take to get to there, I took in what was in front of me. Gray like many of the other submersibles Oceania had, this one was the shape of a blimp. The front was bulbous and rounded, while the back tapered more towards a point with a rudder and twin propellers. Unlike the largest vessel Oceania had, this one had fewer viewports; only one expansive one wrapped around the front along with a few portholes on the sides.
Once I reached the bottom hatch, not knowing what else to do, I rapped three times as hard as I could manage with the fluidity of the water.
Before long, the door opened and I felt a two-fold pressure emit. One around me thrust the water down and the other in the center pulled me upwards. I came up into a very small chamber, which quickly emptied with water. As soon as the water was gone, another door above me opened and I stared up into the somewhat happy, somewhat worried faces of Dr. Wilcox and Dylan.
“Welcome to the Marine Ocean Voyager, Miss Allie,” said Dr. Wilcox with a nod and slight smile.
Chapter 16
“Thanks,” I awkwardly responded as they grabbed my arms and hoisted me up into the main area of the sub. The hatch promptly closed beneath me as soon as my feet were clear.
Gazing around, I examined the vessel I now stood in. The curved, smooth, silver walls of the interior spread a bland theme of gray that made me feel like I had entered a space ship. Two chairs anchored to the floor were to the right of me, directly in front of what looked like a large console. Slightly to my right, several feet behind the console stood a table with two chairs attached. On my left was an area fit with scuba tanks and gear next to a door I assumed led to the rest of the ship.
I commanded the A.I. to unbind the helmet of the suit and power down, which it did almost instantly. Waiting for the skin to peel back from the helmet, I watched the interior of the helmet go dark. Once I felt the suit finish retracting, I tugged off the helmet.
Dylan turned toward me with apologetic eyes, “I’m sorry I had to leave like I did, Allie. The Master Coders were on to me and I didn’t want to make them suspicious in the event that they might start asking questions about you.”
I stared at Dylan with confidence blazing in my eyes. “Do they know about me? About my visits to Oceania?”
“No, they don’t. At least, I don’t think so based on the kinds of questions they were asking me.”
“Then why would the Master Coders be on to you at all? And who are the Master Coders anyway?” I followed Dylan and Dr. Wilcox over to the table in the middle of the room. Dr. Wilcox and I sat while Dylan stayed standing.
Dr. Wilcox folded his arms across from me and answered in Dylan’s stead. “The Master Coders are like Oceania’s version of the FBI or NSA of the United States of America. They are the ones who monitor security for the city of Oceania. They also monitor when and where people are using their codes. You don’t do or go anywhere requiring the use of your code without the Master Coders knowing about it.”
Dylan further added, “The Master Coders wanted to see me because they noticed the spread of time from when I entered my code to leave the docking bay and when I returned. According to them, I had the seamobile out too short of a time for my observational research. They also noticed how I’d been making two trips instead of one since I’ve met you.”
“So, what did they do to you?”
“They interrogated me for a while, but didn’t suspect that I had been associating with a Land Dweller—that much is certain. Unfortunately, I’ve been waterlogged.”
“Waterlogged? What do you mean?” I furrowed my eyebrows at Dylan.
“It’s kind of like being grounded. Basically, it means that you aren’
t allowed to leave Oceania on your own for any reason. It means I can’t come to the surface.” Beneath Dylan’s resoluteness, I could see sadness behind his eyes. My curiosity had dearly cost him; I could see it.
“It also means that you two must be a lot more careful. I was barely allowed to take Dylan here with me in the Marine Ocean Voyager. The Master Coders have flagged Dylan and he is now on their watch list. Any suspicious activity on his part will call attention to him. If that happens, he will be brought back in front of the Master Coders and they will do a much more thorough investigation. They will check every video feed featuring Dylan.” Dr. Wilcox stared directly at me and only at me as he spoke the next sentence, “And you know what will happen if they do.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. I felt like I was being reprimanded for something not entirely my fault.
Dr. Wilcox smacked his hands together scaring me half to death as he shattered the serious atmosphere in the room. “Well, enough of the rough stuff. How did my suit—my SCUBAPS—do against the rigors of deep ocean maneuvering?”
“Well, obviously it worked because I’m still alive,” I laughed. “But there are some things you need to work on. For one, the jet propulsion device is very difficult to attach as the wearer and….”
“Tell me about the performance of the suit first,” interrupted Dr. Wilcox.
“All right. Well, overall it worked pretty well. The A.I. was extremely knowledgeable and helpful. The GPS was reliable all the way from the abyss to the surface. The oxygen system was fantastic. I had no problems breathing whatsoever. The flexibility of the suit made it easy to move around and swim comfortably without being overly tight.”
