by Lian Tanner
‘What about Dolph—’
‘Dolph might be Third Officer, but she’s young and untried, and when things turn bad shipfolk want someone with a bit of experience in charge. And right now that means Albie. He’s got it all worked out. Mind you, he’s not infallible. If the shore party turned up alive, this mutiny’d be over in a heartbeat.’
‘If Orca was still with us,’ said Minke, ‘Albie wouldn’t dare pull a trick like this.’
It’s true, Dolph thought miserably, as she went back to jamming lengths of driftwood into place. If Mam was alive, she would’ve stopped this before it began. Which means I should’ve stopped it. I might be young, but I’m Third Officer, and it was my job to keep the ship safe till the cap’n got back.
She rested her head against the driftwood, wondering what to do next.The folk behind her were expecting a decision, she knew that. Some of them wanted to negotiate with Albie. Others wanted to hold out as long as possible.
She turned around and caught Squid’s eye. When the older girl strode over to join her, Dolph whispered, ‘D’you think Skua’s lying? Really?’
‘I do,’ said Squid.
‘We haven’t had a reply to that message I sent.’
‘Could be something’s gone wrong with the telegraph device.’
‘Albie?’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Squid. ‘Might just be bad luck. It got bumped around a fair bit when we were rushing to build the barricades. Maybe something’s come loose. I’ve had a look, but it’s got all sorts of strange innards and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for.’ She folded her arms. ‘But message or no message, this is how I see it. I can imagine the cap’n being caught unawares – he’s too trusting for his own good. And Fin isn’t that canny either, not when it comes to survival. But Da?’ She laughed. ‘It’d take more than a few Devouts to beat him. Same for Petrel. And the two of them combined are a powerful force.’
Dolph nodded slowly. ‘So – what d’you think we should do?’
‘That’s up to you,’ said Squid. ‘You’re Third.You’re in charge.’
The younger girl flushed. Up till now, she’d liked being Third Officer. She’d been learning navigation mostly, and taking her turn at the wheel. And every now and then, when she thought she could get away with it, she’d practised bossing people around.
But this was different.This was the future of the ship.
‘Right,’ she said. Then ‘Right!’ louder this time, so that the arguments stopped and everyone turned to stare at her.
‘Um— Squid thinks her da and Petrel are still alive, at least,’ said Dolph. ‘So do I. And we don’t abandon our shipmates, do we?’
Dead silence.A few sideways glances.
Dolph summoned up memories of her mam; tried to get that Orca ice into her voice.‘Do we?’
To her surprise, it worked. Minke said, ‘No, you’re right, girl.We don’t.’
‘So,’ said Dolph, clasping her hands behind her back where no one could see them shaking, ‘we’re going to keep sending telegraph messages, um – at the beginning of each watch, just in case they can hear us. And we’re not giving in to Albie, no matter what he says.We’re going to hold out as long as we can.’
She paused, expecting argument, and got none. ‘Squid, you’re in charge of food and water.’
‘There’s not much of either,’ said Squid.
‘Then we’re on short rations,’ said Dolph. ‘It won’t be the first time. Minke, you’re in charge of pipe messages. Tell the ship that Skua’s lying. Tell ’em over and over again, and hope they start to believe us. And – and if anyone has any useful ideas, like how we can take the ship back from Albie, I’m willing to listen. But no more arguing.We’re all in this together.’
She glared at them, Orca-style, then dismissed them with a nod, hoping she could reach the nearest seat before her legs gave way and ruined everything.
I’m doing my best, Mam, she thought, as she lowered herself carefully into the pilot’s chair. I’m doing my best. I just hope it’s good enough.
As soon as Claw was running smoothly, with Gilly at the helm, Sharkey squatted in front of the Ghost girl again. His anger had not cooled, and it overrode any remaining fears.
‘Have you got a name, Ghost?’ he demanded.
The girl licked her lips.‘My name is Rain.’
‘What?’ said Sharkey.
‘My name is Rain.’
Sharkey turned to Poddy. ‘What’s she saying? Can you understand her?’
‘I think she said her name’s Rain, sir,’ said Poddy. ‘She’s got a funny way of talking. Maybe Ghosts’ve got another lingo, and she’s only just starting to learn human.’
Sharkey turned back to the girl. Speaking loudly, to make sure she understood, he said, ‘Three hundred years and your lot never found us.Why now?’
‘Because of B-Brother Thrawn.’ Her voice was so quiet he could hardly hear it.
‘Louder,’ he said.‘Slower.’
‘Because of B-Brother Thrawn. The leader of the Devouts. He has— He has recently come back from the far south.Where the demons live.’
This time Sharkey managed to catch most of it, but it still didn’t make much sense. Devouts? Demons? He scowled, and the Ghost girl flinched away from him and said, ‘He was— He was hurt, the demon hurt his body. But his mind – his mind is as clear and sharp as ever—’
‘The truth!’ snarled Sharkey.
‘The truth,’ gasped the girl. ‘The truth is that we – we were not looking for you at all, we were watching for the demon ship! That is why B-Brother Thrawn sent out the balloons and the infernal d-devices.When we saw the big underwater ship, no one knew what it was.’ Her voice faded. ‘But we were told to kill it.’
Sharkey sat back on his heels and stared at her. She was too foreign, too strange, and he couldn’t be sure he was reading her right. She looked terrified, but that was probably just a Ghost trick. She looked as if she was lying about something, but that might be wrong too. For all he knew, she could be laughing at him!
His anger flared up, hotter than ever, and he almost gave the order, right there and then, to chuck her out of the airlock.
But even as he opened his mouth, his clever mind was working away, telling him that it might be useful to have a captive Ghost, and that he shouldn’t be in too much of a hurry to get rid of her.
Cuttle cleared his throat. ‘Sir, me and Poddy’ve been thinking. Maybe some of those on Rampart did survive.’
Poddy nodded.‘And we could rescue ’em!’
‘Nay,’ said Sharkey, standing up. ‘They didn’t have a chance. I told you, they’re all gone. We’re the last of the Sunkers.’
He thought that was the end of it, but Cuttle, who wasn’t usually so contrary, said, ‘But what about the ones who abandoned ship, sir?’
‘They drowned,’ Sharkey said bluntly. ‘Or else the Ghosts ate ’em.’
The Ghost girl made a squeak of protest, and said, ‘You mean the D-Devouts? They do not eat people! They have probably taken them to the camp.’
‘What camp?’ demanded Poddy.
‘The re-education camp. Near the Citadel.’
Camp. Citadel. None of it meant anything to Sharkey. ‘Be quiet,’ he said. ‘Don’t talk to my crew. Don’t try to trick ’em.’
‘I am not—’ began Rain, but Sharkey shot her one of his blackest looks, and she fell silent.
Claw was heading east, towards the Greater Seddley Current. Sharkey set the course with as much outward confidence as he could muster, then kept the middies busy cooking, cleaning pumps and lines, and scrubbing away at bits of rust.At night they surfaced to fish, swim, recharge the batteries and renew their air. They slept in shifts, partly due to lack of room, and partly to keep an eye on the Ghost.
Sharkey spent most of his time in the tiny workshop aft of the diesel engines, hammering out spare parts. It was heavy work, which he usually avoided, but now he hoped it’d stop him thinking too much.
&nb
sp; We’re the last of the Sunkers.
It was a world that had existed for three hundred years, a world of knowledge, secrets and responsibility. And now the whole thing rested on Sharkey’s shoulders. He felt as if he’d fallen into one of the deep ocean trenches, and the pressure of the water above was crushing him. He could hardly breathe from the weight of it.
The last of the Sunkers!
He would never have admitted it to the middies, but he was scared witless. Apart from everything else, he was used to having Adm’ral Deeps checking his decisions and saving him from mistakes. He was used to taking all the credit and none of the blame, and coming out the other side all shiny and heroic.
He wished desperately that the adm’ral was with them now. She’d know what to do. She’d take this weight off his shoulders.
He wished too that the ancestors would speak to him. Really speak to him this time. Give him a sign, a hint. Anything.
And on the third night, they did. Or so it seemed …
It was past sunfall, and they’d seen no skimmers or giant bubbles since the attack. But Sharkey wasn’t taking any risks.
‘Up periscope,’ he said, and Gilly heaved the periscope into place, and snapped its handles open.
The Ghost girl watched silently, as she watched everything. Sharkey had been surprised to discover that she ate real food, instead of just chewing on machines and people. He hated wasting fish on her, and still wondered if it’d be best to simply push her out the airlock.
‘All clear, sir,’ said Gilly, after turning in a circle twice, once quick and once slow. ‘It’s raining.’
‘Take her up,’ said Sharkey.
But before anyone could respond, something banged against the periscope.
Gilly squawked. Sharkey’s heart leapt into his mouth. He was about to shout, ‘Flood the quick dive tank!’ when Gilly cried, ‘Can’t be Ghosts, sir! There’s no one out there. Must be something floating.’
Poddy, who hadn’t been sleeping well since the attack on Rampart, whispered, ‘Might be a corpse.’
Cuttle’s mouth tightened. Gilly lowered the periscope a little and said,‘Nay. It’s too small.’
They surfaced cautiously, ready to dive at the slightest sign of danger. But when Sharkey climbed the ladder and opened the double hatch, there was nothing there except grey clouds and rain, and the sea water still pouring off the hull.
A cloud of spray hit him in the face, blinding him for a second or two. He wiped his eye and stepped out onto the deck, bracing himself against the swell. ‘All clear!’ he called.
The object bobbing off Claw’s bow looked like an odd-shaped bottle, though Sharkey couldn’t be sure. He shouted down the hatch, ‘Bring a net, Poddy!’
‘Aye, sir!’
They hauled the strange bottle on board, handling it gingerly as if it might blow up in their faces. It had something inside it. A scrap of paper maybe.
As Sharkey examined it, Poddy gasped. ‘Dolphins, sir! Look!’
There were two of them, poking their smooth noses above the water as if they had come for a visit. In the rain, Poddy’s face shone. ‘Is it them, sir?’ she whispered. ‘Is it Lin Lin and Adm’ral Cray? Are they going to say something?’
Sharkey scowled.‘It’s not them. Come on, I want to see if there’s anything on this paper.’
They went below, where the yellow lamps ran off batteries, day and night. ‘It’s a message,’ cried Poddy, as she swung down the ladder. ‘From Lin Lin!’
‘It’s not from Lin Lin,’ snapped Sharkey. He dried his face and hands with a rag, propped himself against the berth that straddled the batteries, and unfolded the scrap of paper.
Like all the Sunkers, he had learned to read as a middy. But the spiky scrawl in front of him was nothing like the square, sensible writing of real people.
He turned the paper this way and that, frowning. He didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t read it, so he said, ‘Must be in Ghost lingo’ and thrust it under the nose of the Ghost girl. ‘What’s it say? And don’t lie.’
Rain scanned the paper and blinked. ‘It is from—’ She looked up. ‘It is from Brother Thrawn.’
‘Him?’ said Gilly. ‘The one who ordered the attack on Rampart? What’s he want, a bang on the head? I’ll give it to him!’
‘He wants—’ Rain squinted at the paper ‘—to make an exchange. For me!’
‘What sort of exchange?’ demanded Sharkey.
‘If you give me back, he will give you one of Rampart’s crew.’
Cuttle said, ‘But they’re all dead, sir. He can’t give ’em back, can he?’
‘Maybe he’s going to give us a corpse,’ said Gilly, glowering.‘Maybe he thinks it’s funny.’
But Poddy’s face was bright with hope. ‘They’re alive, sir! They are!’
‘Nay,’ said Sharkey fiercely. ‘It’s a trap. Ghosts are trying to lure us Up Above so they can eat us too. Don’t be fooled, Poddy.’
Rain cleared her throat. ‘The Devouts are not ghosts. And they do not eat people.’
Sharkey wasn’t listening to her. ‘How’d they find us? That’s the question. One little bottle in such a big ocean?’
‘Maybe there are dozens of bottles, sir,’ said Gilly. ‘All with the same message. All chucked into the water at different spots. And the current brought one of ’em this way.’
‘Mm.’ Sharkey nodded cautiously.
‘And maybe,’ said Poddy, her face still glowing, ‘some of the crew did survive. Maybe the Ghosts didn’t eat ’em all. They might be waiting for us to rescue ’em, sir!’
Sharkey didn’t want his crew thinking about rescues. Such things were for real heroes, not fake ones. He ignored Poddy and said to Rain, ‘What makes you so special? Why does Brother Thrawn want you back?’
The girl reddened. ‘I— I do not know. M-maybe he is doing a favour for my uncle.’
‘Who’s your uncle? Someone important?’
Rain shook her head vigorously. ‘He is Brother Thrawn’s nurse, that is all. He does the things Brother Thrawn cannot do for himself any more. He is not the least bit important, but – but he took us in four months ago, when Mama died. My little brother and I.We would have starved but for Uncle Poosk.’
‘Uncle Poosk?’ Gilly snorted at the name, but Sharkey watched the Ghost girl, trying to separate lies from truth.
‘What’s your brother’s name?’ asked Poddy.
For the first time, Rain’s face lit up with a genuine smile. ‘Bran. He is six. He is the sweetest boy—’
Sharkey pushed himself away from the bunk, saying, ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere. I don’t care about Uncle Poosk and sweet little Bran—’
The girl’s smile disappeared.
‘—I just want to know if this is a trap or not.’
‘I don’t think it’s a trap, sir,’ said Poddy. ‘I think it’s a sign. I’ve been asking for one for days.We all have.’ She beamed up at the ancestor shrine.‘Thank you, Lin Lin! Thank you, Great Granfer Cray!’
‘What about the Hungry Ghosts?’ asked Cuttle. ‘How could we make a swap without getting eaten?’
Poddy ignored him. ‘I bet those two dolphins pushed the bottle towards us!’
‘What about the Hungry Ghosts?’ asked Cuttle again.
‘It might be a sign—’ began Gilly.
‘What about the Hungry Ghosts?’ This time Cuttle was so loud that they had to take notice.
Everyone fell silent, even Poddy. All their lives they’d known that going Up Above after sunclimb was almost certain death. The Hungry Ghosts would find them and eat them. It was madness to even think about it.
But Poddy wasn’t about to give up.‘If the ancestors want us to do it, sir, there must be a way.’
Sharkey felt like laughing, though there was nothing funny about the situation. Of course it was a trap! He couldn’t believe he was even considering it.
But then he started wondering who they might get in exchange for Rain. A middy? An auntie or uncle?
Or Adm’ral Deeps?
Once the idea was there in his mind, it wouldn’t go away. Adm’ral Deeps, who’d know what to do next. Who’d take this great weight of responsibility off his shoulders.
He glanced at Rain. Was that a flicker of hope in her eyes? Or was it scorn? Did she think he was afraid? Did she think he wouldn’t dare go Up Above, not even to get Adm’ral Deeps back?
I asked for a sign, he thought, and I got one. Maybe Poddy’s right. Maybe there IS a way.
Gilly said, ‘When’s the handover? And where?’ ‘The day before the next full moon,’ said Rain, reading the scrap of paper.‘Early morning, due west of where the Devouts attacked your big ship. Behind the beach, at the grand monument.’
Whatever a mon-u-ment is, thought Sharkey. He felt as if he was about to step off the edge of an abyss, into water deeper than he’d ever known. ‘Four days away,’ he muttered.
‘We could just go and look, sir,’ said Poddy. ‘Watch from periscope depth, see if they come.’
Sharkey took a breath – and nodded.‘Gilly, find the right chart.’
‘Aye, sir!’
And with that, the decision was made.
WE SHOULD NEVER HAVE LEFT THE ICE
Mister Smoke and Missus Slink had been gone for far too long.
Something’s happened to ’em, thought Petrel, as she and her friends stumbled along a rough coastal track. According to the cap’n’s calculations, they should’ve reached that ship by now. They should’ve sent a message, but they haven’t. They ain’t coming back, I’m sure of it! I’m never going to see ’em again.
Her only consolation was the messages from the Oyster, which came every four hours, and were disjointed and scrappy.
‘… stil… here,’ said each message.‘St . . . . . . hold . . . out. Wher . . . ar . . . you?’
‘There must be a loose connection at their end,’ said the captain. ‘That is why they are not getting our replies. I wish they would fix it.’
