by Lian Tanner
Cllllaaaannngggg!Whooooooomp!
Claw rocked sickeningly. Sharkey’s ears rang.
‘Last bit of sand,’ he shouted. Then, ‘Gilly, blow the top hatch.’
There was a whoosh above their heads, as oil, clothes, plates, saucepan, propeller, the remains of the bunk and a good chunk of their precious air were forced out of the hatch and up to the surface.
‘Now quiet!’ hissed Sharkey, holding up a warning hand.‘Not a sound!’
It wasn’t hard to picture what was happening Up Above. The air would get there first, boiling up in a great bubble. Then the bits of bunk and the propeller and the clothes. And finally the oil, spreading across the surface of the water in a tell-tale slick.
To any Sunker, it’d look like a fatally damaged submersible. If it was Sharkey up there, he’d be expecting bodies any moment. And when they didn’t come, he’d assume they were trapped below. Dying. Or already dead.
There was a fierce hope in Gilly’s eyes, and in Cuttle’s too. But no one said anything.
Clannngggg on Claw’s bow.
There was no explosion, which meant it must’ve been another dud. But still the sound pierced Sharkey’s heart. The impossible idea hadn’t worked. The one thing he had been able to think of, and it hadn’t—
Now it was rat Lin Lin who held up a paw.‘Wait,’ she whispered.‘That might just be a test. Or a fare-thee-well.’ So they waited. With every moment that passed, Sharkey was expecting the next explosion, the one that would rip the damaged hull right open and kill them all.
But it didn’t come.
And it didn’t come.
And it didn’t—
He glanced at the chronometer. How long had they been sitting there in silence. Half an hour? More? Night must be falling in the Up Above. Surely if the Ghosts were going to keep bombarding them it would have happened by now?
Except, if it was him up there, he’d hang around for a while, watching. Listening. Even when he thought his prey was dead. Make sure it wasn’t a trick.
‘Shhhh!’ he whispered, putting his finger to his lips. Then he cupped his hand over his ear to make sure everyone knew what he meant. Sound travelled easily through water. They mustn’t do anything that would tell the listeners above that they were still alive.
Rain had no idea how long they sat there, as still as clods of earth. Her fingers hurt from clasping them so tightly. But at last Sharkey yawned and said, in a more-or-less normal voice, ‘What’s the charge on the batteries, Gilly?’
‘Low,’ said Gilly, peering at her instruments. She copied his yawn. ‘Air’s getting bad too, sir.’
Rain stretched her legs cautiously. Her throat felt raw, as if she had been shouting.
‘It’ll be dark Up Above,’ said Sharkey.‘Moon won’t’ve risen yet. I say we go up and take a look. What do you reckon?’
In all the days that Rain had been on the submersible, she had never heard its captain ask anyone else’s opinion. Cuttle looked surprised, and so did Gilly, but they nodded agreement.
The rat who called herself Lin Lin pointed her nose at Rain and said, ‘You know more about the Devouts than anyone here, girl.What do you think?’
A dozen possibilities ran through Rain’s head, but the only one that would help Bran was the truth. ‘I think they will be gone,’ she said. ‘They would not know you could trick them like that. I am sure they think they have killed us all.’
Including me.
Sharkey nodded and declared, ‘We’ll take her up then.’
‘Without steering?’ asked Rain.
‘Don’t need steering to go up and down,’ said Sharkey with surprising cheerfulness.‘It’s just handy if you want to go anywhere else.’
To Sharkey’s relief, the periscope was still working. He did a quick check to make sure that the Ghosts had indeed gone, and nodded to Gilly.
Claw surfaced with what sounded like a shout of relief, though really it was just louder-than-usual gurgles and thumps. Sharkey scrambled up the ladder and forced open the hatches, and fresh air whistled into the cabin like a blessing.
It wasn’t enough. He jumped out onto the deck, with the others close behind him.
Even in the dark he could tell how battered Claw was. Gone was the sleek outline that made the little submersible so agile underwater. Gone were the stay lines, and the telegraph aerial. The deck plates were sprung and twisted, and part of the outer hull looked as if it had peeled away.
But for a while at least it hardly mattered. The sky was bright with stars and the air was so clean and beautiful that Sharkey felt like weeping.
I’m alive, he thought. They didn’t get us.We’re ALL alive.
Gilly leaned against the conning tower, taking deep breaths. ‘Only good thing about the Up Above,’ she said. ‘They’ve got decent air.’
‘And stars,’ said Rain. She pointed to a cluster of bright points low in the sky.‘That is Hope over there.’
‘Nay, that’s the Lobster,’ said Cuttle. ‘You can navigate by him.’
‘That’s no lobster,’ said the rat adm’ral, waving a small paw.‘That’s Solomon’s Eye.’
‘No, it is not,’ said Rain. ‘Mama knew all about the stars. That is Hope and the ones just past it are Truth Abandoned.’
‘Hope? Truth Abandoned?’ said Gilly.‘What sorts of names are those? The truthy ones are the Lobster’s Tail, which make up the beginning of the Great Reef. See, there’s the rest of it, sprawled to the north.’
‘You’re both wrong,’ said rat Lin Lin. ‘What you’re calling the Reef—’
Sharkey grinned at Rain. He knew he’d have to start being captain again soon. It was a fair way to shore, but he thought he could swim it, even with his bad shoulder. He’d take a line with him, one end tied to Claw, in case the rats’ friends couldn’t swim. He’d find them and bring them back. Fix the steering and patch the worst of the damage. Check for leaks. Get out of here before sunclimb.
But for now—
For now he just stood there, smiling into the darkness. And breathing. There are no words for this, he thought.
And for the next few minutes he gave himself up to letting the world spin in whatever direction it wanted, and not even trying to control it.
‘WHO’S YOUR CAPTAIN?’
Petrel was crying. She hadn’t cried many times in her short, hard life, but now the tears streamed down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop them.
‘Coooo,’ said Scroll.‘Cooooo.’
None of them had moved since that awful moment when cheering and celebration had broken out on the sailing ships. Even the captain, a mechanical boy made of silver and wire, seemed stricken. Their best chance of getting back to the Oyster was gone. Folk who might have been allies were gone. Worst of all, Mister Smoke and Missus Slink were gone.
Petrel felt as if all the blood had drained from her body, leaving nothing but a shadow. Except shadows didn’t grieve, not like this.
‘They m-mightn’t be dead,’ she said, though she knew they were.
No one answered her.They just sat, staring at their hands and feeling sick.
Out in the bay, something splashed.‘Fish,’ said Krill sadly.‘We should try and rig some sort of net.’
Still no one moved.
The fish jumped again, closer.
And closer.
A pulse hammered in Petrel’s throat. She stood up, her face wet, her hand pressed over her mouth.
A boy walked out of the water.
There were three of them, stumbling over the rocks towards Sharkey. Behind them limped a fourth, a huge man from the look of him, though it was too dark for details.
Sharkey stopped, with the sea swirling around his ankles and that odd feeling of contentment lingering in his veins.‘Are you—’
‘Claw?’ asked one of the dark figures. A girl.
‘Aye,’ said Sharkey.
The girl took another step towards him, her voice fierce with hope. ‘Mister Smoke and Missus Slink – are they all right?�
�
‘Who?’
‘The rats!’
‘Oh. Aye,’ said Sharkey. He was already walking up over the rocks with the line in his hand, but he said over his shoulder, ‘Aye, they’re alive and well.’
The girl laughed, a ragged, hiccupy sound. ‘Alive and well, Fin!’ she said to one of her companions. ‘Alive and well!’
Sharkey found a good solid rock and knotted the line around it. The other end ran out across the water, all the way to Claw. ‘Can you swim?’ he asked, when he’d rejoined the four dark figures.
‘No,’ said Fin.
‘Not likely,’ said the girl.
‘None of you?’
‘None of us,’ said the girl.‘Unless— Cap’n?’
Instantly, Sharkey’s feeling of contentment vanished. Another captain? Another captain, coming onto his boat? He bristled at the outline of the big man.‘You’re in charge of this crew?’
‘No, I am,’ said the fourth figure, a child no bigger than Poddy, with a hood concealing his face and some sort of bird on his arm.
Sharkey snorted under his breath. ‘Well, don’t expect to be captain of anything while you’re on Claw. You’ll do what you’re told on my boat.You all will, or you’re not coming aboard.’
There was a moment of silence, then the girl said, ‘We’re good at doing what we’re told, ain’t we, Krill?’
‘Hmph,’ said the big man, which might have meant anything. ‘About this bargain, lad—’
‘Don’t try to back out of it,’ said Sharkey quickly. ‘We’re heading north as soon as we can. We get my people out first, then I’ll take you to your ship.’
That silenced them again. Sharkey nodded towards the line. ‘Use that to drag yourselves out to the boat. But take your outer clothes off first, or there’ll be nothing dry for you to change into.’
The girl hesitated.‘You waterproof, Cap’n?’
‘I believe so,’ said the small figure, ‘though I have never tested it.’ He turned to Sharkey. ‘Do you know any songs?’
Sharkey didn’t bother answering. They’re mad, he thought. Can’t see how they’ll be any help getting Poddy and the others back. But there’s no one else.
The strangers took off their outer clothes and put them in a pile next to him, along with a bag. Sharkey thought there was something odd about the little captain’s face, though it was too dark to see properly.
I’ll get a good look at him soon, he thought, as the strangers slid into the water one by one, clinging to the line for dear life.The bird fluttered over their heads.
Sharkey took a smaller line from around his waist and tied the clothes in a ball, with the bag in the middle. When he heard a distant ‘Hoy!’ from Gilly, he set about loosening the line that he had fastened around the rock.
It took much longer than he’d expected. The knot had jammed, probably because of the big man’s weight, and although he dug at it until his fingers were bruised, it wouldn’t budge.
Rope was too valuable to lose, so Sharkey didn’t want to cut it. But there were urgent repairs to be done, and he had already wasted too much time. So in the end, he took out his knife and sliced through the knot.
He swam back out on his side, holding the clothes above the water with one hand. By the time he saw the battered bulk of the submersible, half a dozen yards away, his shoulder felt as if it was on fire.
But he wasn’t going to show any sort of weakness, not with another captain on board. He passed the bundle up to Gilly, and hauled himself onto the deck, gritting his teeth against the pain.
‘Are you all right, Sharkey?’ whispered Gilly, as he dried himself and put his clothes on. ‘You were gone so long! I was just getting ready to come after you.’
Sharkey grunted. He was in no mood to be fussed over.
‘Did you see the bird?’ continued Gilly. ‘And the little cap’n? He asked me about songs – isn’t that odd? Did you see that man Krill? He could hardly fit through the hatch. How’re we going to feed someone that big?’
‘We’re not,’ muttered Sharkey. ‘He can find his own food, they all can.The bargain’s for rescuing our people in exchange for taking ’em to their ship. No one said anything about feeding ’em.’
‘But that wouldn’t be fair, and besides—’
‘Are you arguing with me?’
‘Nay, but Krill’s alr—’
‘Who’s your cap’n?’ Sharkey glowered at her.
‘But he’s—’
‘Who’s your cap’n, Gilly?’
He thought she pulled a face, but it was too dark to see, which was just as well for her.
‘You are,’ she mumbled.
‘Sir.’
‘You are. Sir.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
Gilly didn’t answer, but Sharkey knew he’d made his point.
The rats started this, he thought, as he pulled on his eye patch and made his way down the ladder. The middies never argued with me before the rats came. And it’ll be worse now with so many strangers on board. I’ll have to stamp on it before it gets out of hand.
He stepped off the ladder, already issuing instructions. ‘Gilly’s bringing your clothes down. Get ’em on and stow yourselves out of the way. And don’t touch anything. Cuttle, bring me the big wrench, then you and Gilly start work on the hull. I’m going to see what’s wrong with the steer—’
His voice dried in his throat. Cuttle was standing by the chart table with the little captain . . . whose face was made of silver.
Cuttle looked up at Sharkey and beamed. ‘He’s only small, but he knows all about navigation, sir. He says our chart’s wrong in a few places, so we’ve been changing it. And then he’s going to help us fix the hull in exchange for us telling him all the songs we know. And Fin and Rain and Petrel are making plans to get everyone out—’
‘And Krill is cooking supper,’ added Rain.‘Though he said he has never had to do it in his long underwear before.’
Which was when Sharkey realised he’d been smelling fried fish ever since he came on board.
‘I tried to tell you, sir,’ said Gilly from somewhere above him.‘But you wouldn’t listen.’
Sharkey had been hoping that the steering wouldn’t be too difficult to fix. A problem with the linkages, maybe. But when he slid back over the side of the little submersible, into the cold water, he found that the rudder shaft was bent and could not be straightened.
Two-handed, replacing it would’ve been a hard job. One-handed and furious, it was wretched. But Sharkey wouldn’t give up. He ducked below the surface to heave and tug and wrench at the stubborn metal, came up for a breath then ducked down again, his teeth chattering, his shoulder aching.
Somewhere above him, the little silver captain was working alongside Gilly and Cuttle, hammering deck plates into place, patching the outer hull and checking the ballast tanks. Last time Sharkey had looked, Krill and Petrel were helping them, and so were the rats. Sharkey didn’t like all these strangers touching his boat, but he didn’t have much choice, not if he wanted Claw back in working order before sunclimb.
By the time the new shaft was in place, he was exhausted, and so cold that he could no longer feel his fingers or toes. The sound of muffled hammering had stopped a quarter of an hour ago.
He dragged himself up onto the deck, where Gilly was waiting for him. ‘Well?’ he croaked.
‘It’s not bad, sir,’ said Gilly. ‘That odd little cap’n of theirs knows what he’s about. I reckon we’re watertight, but we won’t know for sure till we try it out.’
With a great effort, Sharkey nodded.Then he pulled his clothes on and staggered below, shivering so badly that he could hardly speak.
‘Breakfast, bratling?’ asked Krill, looming out of the tiny galley and banging his head on a pipe. He rubbed his skull ruefully, as if the same thing had happened several times before, and said, ‘Rain and Fin caught a dozen pickle-heads while we were working. Never tried ’em myself, but Cuttle says they’re tasty. Reckon you could
do with a feed.’
Sharkey ignored him. ‘You’ve got the conn,’ he croaked to Gilly, who’d come down the ladder behind him.‘Take her down to periscope depth and watch the pressure. If it stays steady, head down the channel to deep water.Then set a course for ten miles or so south of the Citadel. And since he knows so much about everything—’ he jerked his head at the child with the silver face ‘—let him find us a nice safe bay where we can go ashore without being seen.’
Then he turned his back on everyone, curled up under the chart table and was asleep before the dive siren sounded.
Petrel’s belly was full of pickle-heads, she had a rat on each knee, and her back rested against good, honest metal. It was the closest she’d come to being happy for days. Even Claw’s crew seemed familiar, in a way that the Devouts and the starving villagers had not.
But deep inside, that lost feeling lingered. I won’t be right till I’m back on the Oyster, she thought. I wish I was there now.
Beside her, Krill was trying unsuccessfully to make himself smaller so he didn’t take up so much of the tiny cabin. Cuttle and the captain shared a stool, with Scroll on the captain’s arm. Gilly had the helm, and Fin and Rain were leaning against the dive wheels, talking quietly to each other.
Their hair’s almost the same colour, thought Petrel. I wonder if she knows his mam. I wonder if that’s what they’re talking about.
Claw had reached deep water twenty minutes ago, and the hiss of it on the double hull was like a lullaby.
‘Must be time for a story,’ boomed Krill.
‘Or a Song,’ said the silver boy in a quiet voice.‘We must not give up on our purpose.’
Petrel didn’t say anything, but she wished the captain would give up. It seemed to her that he was pulling one way, determined to find his song, and she and Fin and Krill were pulling the other, trying to get back to the Oyster. And until they all pulled the same way, nothing good would happen.
She wriggled sideways until she was leaning against Krill’s comforting bulk. She knew that the Head Cook missed the old icebreaker as much as she did. What’s more, he must be half-mad with worry about Squid. But somehow he was still himself. He wasn’t lost, not like Petrel.
