by London Shah
The craft shudders.
“Oh, calamity! We appear to be under attack, my dear!” Oscar announces.
“Okay, rise! We need to rise, Oscar! Keep going until the security vessels fall away!”
It’s the only way. Though the security forces’ crafts are hefty and advanced, they’re still not submarines. No matter how sturdy submersibles are, they’re no match for the turbulent higher waters.
They turn out to be far more determined and resilient than I’d anticipated, but eventually we rise high enough for them to drop away.
“Stay at this height for another league, Oscar, and remain on course at full speed.”
I wring my hands. So . . . Captain Sebastian has put a security alert out for me. Why? Because he suspects I’ll be searching for Papa? What possible reason could he have for trying to stop that? I wish I knew what was going on!
Ari joins me, looking out into the waters.
The chase—and knowing I have to evade all authority vessels from here on—has left me feeling on edge and I move away.
I grab the brolly Theo gave me and slump into the cushioning sofa with Jojo. I want to know exactly how to use the weapon, just in case. Ari leaves the saloon.
I’m familiarizing myself with the brolly when Oscar reappears, his expression mildly concerned as he plays with an ornate ring on his finger. “My dear lady, I’m afraid a change to the trajectory is in order. Leaving via Dartford Tunnel is no longer feasible. Due to the Anthropoid attack on the city, its border-crossing points just closed. Nobody is to leave London for at least twenty-four hours. Instructions?”
My heart sinks and I sit up. “What on earth am I supposed to do now then? We need to cross the borders tonight. Security is stretched this evening, so we’ll never get another chance like this! I must get out of London tonight!”
“Epping Forest,” says Ari, striding back into the room. He has his target board and knives with him. “It’s the least guarded route. Everywhere else is crawling with border patrol, and all security forces will have received the same instructions from Captain Sebastian. The forest is a back door over the borders—which is why it attracts all kinds. But it’s your only option if you want to cross tonight. The sooner we reach King’s Lynn, the better.”
No kidding.
I tense as I absorb his words. Anywhere but Epping Forest, Tabby had said. But security is only going to increase going forward, so I must leave London tonight. I don’t have any other choice. I swallow. “I’m not turning back. We cross via the forest.”
Ari nods in agreement and I’m left wondering what he’s prepared to see us through, just so he can return home as soon as possible.
He hangs his target board in the saloon and stands far back, ready to take aim.
I chew on my lip. “What about when you miss the board? Jojo’s running around in here.”
His brow furrows. “Why would I miss the target?”
He holds a blade in each hand. The muscles in his arms bulge every time he draws his hands back and aims. A certain energy radiates off him. The knives never, no matter how far back in the saloon Ari stands, miss the center of the board. I wish I could look away.
When he’s done, he heads straight for the viewport and sits, eyes closed.
Jojo scrambles down and joins him.
“Jojo, come here, baby.” I beckon the puppy with fervent hand gestures that she simply ignores.
Ari plays with her, smiling and delighting in her antics. I cross my arms. He speaks gently, constantly patting and stroking Jojo. She just thinks anything he does is flipping fantastic, daft thing. She’s embarrassing herself, really. At one point, as the puppy tries to impress him with a series of naff acrobatics, he laughs heartily in response.
I tap my feet on the soft rug. A globe of the Old World stands next to me, beside the bronze model of a cat curled up. Leaving via Epping Forest is almost doubling back on ourselves. Still, we survived an Anthropoid attack, thanks to Ari, and a chase by the security forces. Perhaps it might get a little easier?
I consult my maps. Security bases lie on either side of my intended course, and rival shrub gangs also work the area. But if I stick between Dagenham and Barking, I should be safe. Hopefully. With a sinking feeling and a bad taste in my mouth, I instruct Oscar on the new directions and the sub turns northwest, toward Epping Forest.
It’s not like Tabby to have warned me against passing over the forest without good reason. But one way or another, I’m getting out of London tonight.
I pray I’ve made the right choice.
Everything always makes much more sense after a cup of tea. I sip the soothing liquid and nibble on a scone as I watch the sub pierce London’s waters, in the direction of the forest.
Jojo’s exercising. A juicy bone floats around the room, rising and dipping teasingly. No matter how fast the puppy is, the projection is always faster. Why didn’t she alert me to Ari’s presence? She’s meant to be loyal to me. Her limp’s entirely gone; thank goodness he tended to her.
I recall Grandpa’s words: He’s here to ensure your safety.
The tea does the trick. Making Ari a cup, I head to the control room. He’s not there, and I trace him to the engine room.
A constant thrumming greets me as I enter the hot space. A maze of pipes curve all around, running along the sides and even above my head. Dials, levers, valves, and tanks, in all shapes, sizes, and materials, surround me. I walk on until I spot him.
He’s shirtless, sweat gleaming across his back and shoulders. He pauses to check every valve, read each dial. His golden-copper tinted skin twitches as the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back flex with the movements. How can anyone look both graceful and incredibly strong at the same time?
I quickly avert my gaze, slosh some tea in my haste, and moan.
He glances in my direction, his gaze as piercing as ever. Concern breaks through his expression.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” Don’t you dare blush. “You know Oscar will alert us to anything that needs checking? And the readings in the control room are all looking fine.”
He nods. “I just wanted to be sure. Some things only crop up once the vessel’s underway. But so far, so good.”
I place the cup down. “Erm, tea.”
He stares at the cup, slight surprise surfacing in his eyes. When he catches mine, his gaze is swiftly shuttered once more. He passes by me to check a pressure gauge—barefoot and looking right at home. He smells like warm wood, leaves, and water. Perhaps a forest might have smelled like him.
“I don’t like tea,” he says. “I only drink coffee.”
What the hell. Who doesn’t like tea? And to think he’s suspicious of others? “Well, that’s too bad. I don’t like coffee so I only brought tea on board.”
“I have everything I need.”
Argh. He isn’t the only one who wishes he wasn’t aboard my sub. He’s maddening and I really don’t like him. But there’s something I need to ask. “What do you know about my papa? Anything I don’t?”
The question catches him off guard, and he stares at me before leaning back against a tank, slipping his hands in his pockets. His face is flushed, his skin radiant and his eyes bright. “That depends,” he finally says, his expression as guarded as ever, “on what you know.”
“Papa went to work one day and never came home. The police told me he’d been arrested for aiding seasickness sufferers in taking their own lives—a rotten lie. Grandpa finally told me the truth recently, that it was the Blackwatch who took him away. The authorities said Papa was being kept in London—another lie. Grandpa knows he was taken out of the city. Not a single shred of evidence has been produced to back the accusations against Papa. And that’s everything I know. You?”
His brow furrows slightly as he stares intently. Then he’s guarded once more and shrugs.
“I’m only here because my father insisted I help his friend. Your grandfather’s asked me to ensure you get to King’s L
ynn safely. Once you’re at his cottage, I go back to my own life. That’s all I know.”
I hold his gaze, unblinking.
Finally the amber depths in his eyes flicker and shift and he sighs. “Did you ever question anything before your father went missing?”
“Like what?”
“Did you ever hear of others going missing before your father?”
I try to remember. “Sometimes, yes. Rumors here and there. But they were arrested because they’d done something criminal.”
He raises an eyebrow.
I glare at him. “My papa’s innocent!”
“I know,” he says.
My mouth opens; I close it again. It’s always such a relief anytime someone agrees!
“And,” he continues, a bitter tone creeping into his voice, “just maybe those other people who disappeared were also innocent? Did you never wonder about that?” He removes his hands from his pockets and folds his arms. “You people . . . Always content with your own lives no matter what’s going on with somebody else, somewhere else—as long as you’re fine. Always believing everything you’re told.”
I shift on my feet. Why am I “you people”? He truly is maddening! “What do you mean? Why would I suspect ordinary arrests—”
He straightens, clenching his mouth and raking his hand through his hair. He averts his eyes, as if he regrets his outburst. “Look, I told you. I’m just here to make sure you’re safe. When we reach the cottage in King’s Lynn, I’m done.”
I open my mouth, but before I’ve got a word out, Oscar appears.
“My dear lady, it would appear we have sailed into contested shrub turf. We are, most unfortunately, in the center of quite a rumpus between rival gangs.”
We both rush back upstairs to the saloon. I shake my head as I absorb the information and peer into the water. Despite knowing about the danger, I still managed to walk right into it.
“Oscar, switch to defensive mode immediately and stay alert,” I say.
“Hit them,” Ari urges, baring his teeth. “Hit them all now so we can be on our way.”
“Well, of course I bloody won’t. The Kabul’s been updated with the best defense systems; we have to trust in Deathstar’s and Theo’s tech. Those subs aren’t interested in us; they’re fighting among themselves. If we race through it, they’ll see we’re not a threat.”
His brow furrows as he studies me before pacing the viewport. Does he trust anyone?
I run through my options; this is where a submersible is so much more advantageous. You can’t just swiftly rocket, nosedive, or backflip a submarine out of danger.
I instruct the Navigator, “Switch to infrared, ensure our defenses remain running. Don’t dip, there’ll be far more of them below. This height is challenging for them. We should rise another fifty feet, but then we might be spotted by patrols. Press on, full speed ahead.”
The submarine pushes onward. Lasers ricochet off the vessel’s body as it weaves around the crafts attacking one another. I jump when the sub lurches and summon Oscar.
“There is nothing of concern to report, my dear lady. The vessel is absolutely fine.”
I bite my nails. “Still, rise a little higher, Oscar. Just twenty feet.”
Shrubs are big business. And illegal. The demand for them outweighs the supply. The plantlike reeds grow randomly on higher ground, and everyone wants to claim the slimy flora. Dried out and smoked, it helps you forget to be afraid. For a while. But they’ve contributed to our numbers falling, as overdoses are fatal—and common.
Climbing works, and we leave the battle behind. Oscar confirms the sub is undamaged.
We cross the Thames by Thamesmead, almost back where we started. I swallow my disappointment. If I’m to get to the forest by midnight, I have to remain positive. We could never have anticipated the attack at Belvedere. We press on. Somewhere beneath us now is the Farm, one of the Campbells’ most successful hotels, offering realistic mock earth, grass, fences, fields, and “outdoor” activities. You have to be quick to secure a place at the hotel. I always mean to visit it, just to see what it’s like. Maybe once Papa is free and his name cleared, inshallah.
Soon the water turns greener and choppier, the churning caused by both a protein plant and power farm below, adding froth and increased buoyancy to the current.
The submarine plows on above the city, speeding over the once ancient site of the City of London Cemetery and Crematorium. Very few Old Worlders remain in their resting places.
Oscar appears. “My dear lady, Epping Forest is upon us.”
I brace myself.
We’ll maintain height for as long as we can, only diving close to the forest at the first sign of border police. Despite patrol being thinner here than at any other point of the M25, not many leaving or entering London do so via Epping Forest. The place is a law unto itself.
Drifting branches and twigs hint at the location. Something moves on the edge of my vision. I gulp; border police, already? It isn’t them, though. It’s the most unexpected and welcome sight. I have to catch my breath. Wow . . .
It’s a pyrosome; the largest I’ve ever seen. It floats in the water beside us. The cylindrical creature must be at least ten meters long. It swerves its gelatinous body as it moves alongside the sub, its pinkish-white color giving it an ethereal appearance in the vessel’s light. It’s like a water deity. A group of eco-bots keeps the creature in sight. It moves away in dance-like slow motion. As soon as it’s drifted far enough from the vessel’s glare, its own blue-green light is visible; bewitching flecks in the darkness. I stare after it, mouth open.
And I only now notice the vague shape in the far distance. Border patrol!
I grab the binoculars and race up into the little platform at the very top of the sub. Yes, most definitely a patrol car. It hovers some distance above us. It’s a matter of seconds before it spots us, if it hasn’t already. It’s time to descend.
The submarine is somewhere above the center of the forest as it dives. I confer with Oscar over the best sensory system to use to negotiate the dreaded woodlands.
Ari stands, staring into the water, his expression dark and distant as he spies the odd fishing net on our way down. “We should stay as high above the forest as possible.”
The more frustrated or agitated he becomes, the lower his voice drops.
“I know, but we have to descend because of the border patrol. If we stay close to the forest we can move forward without the threat of security stops. They aren’t likely to wander that low. It’s better than being an open target in the clearer waters above.”
He takes in my decision and nods, but the hesitant expression remains.
I suddenly brighten. I totally forgot the submarine has the latest interactive mapping system! “Wait—I can just show you.”
I activate the simulated sea chart. The room turns translucent blue as water ripples everywhere around us. Jojo stares, transfixed. It’s as if we’re in the water, a part of the ocean.
We see crevices, ridges, jutting ranges, earthquake zones, the marked habitats of deadly creatures, and even animals. I use my hands to zoom in and out of the different areas.
Ari turns in every direction, taking it all in.
“So we’re right here.” I guide him through the area, explaining all the obstacles.
He watches me closely. Through the now marine tones of the room, his gaze is more intense than ever. I tear my eyes away.
I bring up all the creatures hidden in the depths. The sea’s wildlife fills the space. The deeper I go the more breathtaking the animals, totally outrageous life-forms. Everything from opaque shapes and transparent anatomies to bioluminescent beings swim around us, showering us. I laugh and reach out. I meet his gaze and it’s relaxed, his eyes bright. I stare back. Wow.
He looks totally different when he drops his guard. . . . He remains mystifying. Unfathomable, yes. But so much softer, kinder. My insides flutter.
Heat floods my cheeks. I swallow, straigh
tening immediately, and turn away. Only to let out a loud gasp when a gigantic creature surfaces on the map, its dark eyes empty as it swims toward me. A red warning sign follows the animal around. What is it? I’ve never seen it before. I rack my brains for the menacing creature’s identity, but nothing comes to mind. Quivering, I inhale loudly and wave both arms out beside me. The sea chart vanishes, taking the water and creatures with it.
There’s just so much I don’t know. So many terrors lurk in the depths.
Ari moves over to the viewport, where I join him to check the view.
“It’s not as scary as you think,” he says, his voice subdued as he rubs the back of his neck. “The world—it’s not as terrifying as you believe. It was just a sea creature.”
Just a sea creature? “Have you never watched Today’s Terrors of the Deep? There are some truly terrifying things hiding out in the water, you know.”
“Then it is a good job you have regular reminders,” he says, sounding reluctantly resigned. “Imagine if you forgot for a moment.”
“And why on earth would we want to forget? That would leave us vulnerable.”
“And you believe living in fear of everything helps you?”
“Who lives in fear? Being aware of the dangers keeps us alert. Always better to know.”
He presses his lips into a straight line, and we stare out into the water.
I recall his words to me earlier. What was that all about? What did he mean about us always believing everything we’re told? I sigh; once I get to King’s Lynn, I’ll make sure I get some answers.
The darkness has intensified outside. Is that even possible? I order the sub to stop diving and for full lighting capacity to highlight our surroundings. Yikes. I wrap my arms around myself as we take in the sight.
Beneath us, the undergrowth is an endless expanse of ancient trees, all uprooted and toppled over one another. The mass of plants—a mixture of long dead and evolved new life—ripples as if the ground itself is alive, whispering, plotting.
I maneuver us through the brooding waters. Other vessels are just visible here and there, glowing lamps drifting in the dense darkness. A wide net drops from the underside of a camouflaged and modified sub calling itself Pan.
