Rising Tide

by Rajan Khanna

  “Looks like it,” Miranda says. “And you just pushed a few buttons. More of them might work.”

  “Maybe someone at Tamoanchan can look at it. Work something out.”

  Miranda nods. “Maybe.”

  I’m trying to think what we could use this for. It begs the question, of course, what we’re going to be doing in the future. I guess it comes down to what’s going on with Tamoanchan. I look at Miranda from the corner of my eyes. “Do you ever see us going back to the way things were?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?” Miranda asks.

  “Me flying you to Feral nests, you going down to the ground, taking samples. That kind of thing.” I’m thinking that this ship would give us a better sense of where Ferals might be hiding. And how many. This kind of ship, back then, would have made things a lot easier.

  Miranda bends down over the monitors, tracing something on the screen with her finger. “There is no back,” she says, echoing something she said to me long ago.

  Once more, I have to agree with her.

  I’ve been keeping track of our position on a map that Mal had handy. Actually, a series of maps. Luckily there’s enough of the sea and coast, which is no real surprise considering the course he was taking. According to the position I charted, Tamoanchan should be in sight soon. I already have the radio lit and set to the frequency that Tamoanchan uses. They don’t know this ship, so they might see us as a threat.

  If they’re still there.

  By blowing up the Cherub, I managed to take out the ships that were heading there from Gastown. Those ships intended to drop infected Ferals onto the island. I assumed they were only the first wave. That more ships would be coming. What I’d been hoping for was that my sacrifice could buy them time to get the island evacuated.

  So I don’t know what I’m going to find. One of the best-case scenarios involves an abandoned Tamoanchan, all the people off somewhere else, pissed and unhappy, but safe and alive. The worst-case scenarios are, well, worse. For all I know, we could be flying to a ruined city. Or one that’s been taken over by Gastown. That’s the scenario I fear the most. That we’ll fly into sight and raiders will be all over us like flies on a carcass. This ship has neither the speed of the Cherub nor the armaments of many others. Don’t get me wrong—it’s a sleek, impressive ship, but not much good against a group of raiders.

  It’s difficult to know why Gastown does what it does. When the raiders took Gastown—free, independent Gastown, I mean, the city in the sky that was—they kept it. Which made sense. It was a trading city. Valuable. Strategic. And of course it had the only dependable source of helium around. Of course you keep that. But they don’t always keep things. When they hit the Core, where Miranda and her scientists had set up camp, a place they called Apple Pi (that’s a dumb name—Miranda’s going to give me shit about the name of the Cherub when she worked in a place called that?), they didn’t take it. They torched it. Gutted it. But then left. I guess there wasn’t anything there worth holding on to.

  Have I mentioned that I hate those raiders?

  Miranda comes up behind me and rubs my arm. Somehow it helps. I guess I know that I’m not facing this alone. I hope that Sergei’s okay. He’s like a surrogate father to Miranda, of course, but I really like the guy myself. He was the first of Miranda’s boffins that I met. He’s not the liveliest of guys but . . . I care about him. I’d hate to lose him.

  By now I can make out the dark spot of land that’s Tamoanchan, an island far enough off the coast that it doesn’t get stumbled upon very often, but large enough and flat enough that a settlement could set up there, a real city with wooden buildings and, because of the water surrounding it, security. Ferals can’t just wander in. Only the Bug. Infected people. Which is why the island’s secrecy is carefully guarded and they vet everyone who goes there.

  I kinda . . . . skipped that vetting process. I helped out two of their people, a man named Diego and his sister, Rosie. They were out looking for ship captains to help keep them supplied. I helped them escape from some raiders, and they figured that was a good-enough audition. Later, after the Core was sacked, I took Miranda and Sergei and Clay there (though Clay was not my idea). It didn’t go as well as I expected. That was mostly due to the fact that Miranda, Sergei, and Clay insisted upon bringing a live Feral with them.

  Batshit crazy, of course. But they were studying it. Miranda calls it Alpha. It has some kind of mutation. Some alteration of the Bug that helps her studies. So she brought it with her, and it got us all thrown into cells (something I’m developing a talent for) and almost got us killed. But I was able to convince the Tamoanchan Council that Miranda was onto something. That she had the best chance of working out the Bug. Of building something like a detection system, if not a cure. They set her people up on a nearby island that would hopefully help protect the main island from contamination. I thought that meant Miranda would be safe, but then she decided to come with me to Gastown while I chased after the Cherub.

  And now we’re full circle, back to Tamoanchan. It’s not a large island, but not really tiny either. It’s . . . medium.

  And growing larger in the window by the second.

  So far, it looks the same. I mean, I think it looks the same. “Does it look the same to you?” I ask Miranda.

  She presses herself against the window, trying to see.

  I look over to the monitors, but none of them are currently showing the island.

  It slowly grows larger.

  Then, as we’re both watching, both of us tense and unwilling to even guess what might have happened, the radio crackles to life. “Passcode,” a voice says.

  “Shit.”

  Someone’s down there. But friend? Or enemy?

  I grab the microphone. “Tamoanchan, this is Ben Gold and Miranda Mehra. We don’t have a passcode. We’re just returning to the island. We came to see if you were okay.”

  After a brief pause, the voice, male, comes back. “Ben Gold?”

  “Yes.”

  Another pause. It seems like they recognize the name, but because I spent time on Tamoanchan, or because I fucked with a bunch of Gastown raiders?

  “You know the eastern landing ground?” the voice asks, after a moment.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Proceed there. Someone will meet you.”

  I look at Miranda. “What do you think?”

  We both look out at the island. There are a few bright spots that are probably airships low down the way that Tamoanchan used to keep them, but they could be anyone’s ships.

  “I think we have to go,” Miranda says, resigned.

  “Me, too.”

  So I bring the Dumah around to the eastern landing ground. Keeping the ships down low means that they can’t be spotted easily from the sky. They have a hydrogen operation, several, actually, that help refill the ships and let them lift off if grounded. I see the usual assortment of ships, but have they just been captured? I try to see the Osprey, Diego and Rosie’s ship, but I don’t. Which doesn’t necessarily mean anything—there are several places they stash ships.

  On the Dumah’s belly cameras I can see a small crew near a securing station, a place where they’ve made it easy to anchor. I try to make out what they’re wearing. Valhalla raiders favor furs and leathers. As good as the cameras are, I can’t seem to get that level of detail. I drop our anchor, and the crew helps secure it. I lower the Dumah closer to the ground, then send Miranda to drop the ladder.

  Before we leave the hatch, we face each other. “I wish you’d kept the gun I gave you,” I say.

  “I still have the dart gun,” she says. A pistol that shoots small tranquilizer darts. It’s better than nothing.

  She straightens my jacket, presses lightly against the star still affixed to my coat. “Let’s go.”

  I go first, figuring if they take a shot I’d rather it get me than her. But none come. I lower myself to the ground, then approach the crew. The way the sun is coming down through the trees, it�
�s hard for me to make them out. My fingers itch for my revolver. I stay close to Miranda.

  Then I can make out the crew. Three people, two men and a woman. I think I recognize one of them from my time here before. From the original Tamoanchan. Part of me relaxes, unclenches. I suddenly realize that I’m holding Miranda’s hand. I give it a squeeze now that I am starting to realize that we’re among friends.

  Then one of the men pulls a gun on us, because of course he does.

  I have that kind of luck.

  They treat us better than Mal did (or at least better than Mal treated me; Miranda seems to have fared just fine). And much better than those Navy assholes. They take our weapons, but they put Miranda and me in the same place—not a cell, but something slightly cozier. But bare. There are guards outside.

  “What do you think is going on?” I ask.

  Miranda smiles. “The usual Ben Gold charm.”

  I laugh. We don’t wait long. The door opens and four people walk in. I recognize one of them. Brana. Short blonde hair, hard face. She’s the leader of the Tamoanchan Council. She was the one who questioned us the first time we came to the city. With her is a man with Asian ancestry, a scar on the left side of his jaw. Looks almost like a burn. They’re flanked by two Tamoanchan peacekeepers wearing their brown and green and carrying rifles. None of them are smiling. None of them look happy to see us.

  Brana shakes her head. “I knew you would be trouble the first time you came here.”

  I should feel apprehensive about all of this, but I don’t. I feel calm, somehow. Relaxed. I think it’s partly because we’re here. They’re here. Tamoanchan survived.

  “You were the one who let us stay,” I say.

  She nods. “A mistake that I’ll no doubt continue to pay for.”

  “You know,” I say, “I get the feeling you’re not too happy with me right now.”

  “Should I be?” Her face twists as if in disgust. She points a stiff arm at me, first finger extended. “You were supposed to stay here. Instead you convince Diego to take you to Gastown, risking our location. Compromising our location. All for what? To get your ship back? I notice you didn’t bring it with you. Did you find something better? Does anything really matter to you?”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Miranda says, moving forward. There’s a faint flush in her face, the kind that she gets when she’s excited about some data, or when she’s angry. “Ben got his ship, and then he sacrificed it. We almost sacrificed our lives—we were ready to—to save all of you.”

  Brana’s still frowning, showing no reaction.

  “Ben took out the raiders that were headed here. He was trying to do right by you.”

  I’m not surprised that Miranda has my back, but it still feels good. Brana’s tough, but Miranda’s tougher.

  Brana crosses her arms. “Yet our location is still compromised. In the hands of the worst possible people.”

  “Ben wasn’t the one who told them,” Miranda says, her voice low and steady.

  I grimace. It was Diego. But I’m the one who put him in that position in the first place.

  “Can we stop this?” I ask. “Miranda and I came back because we needed to make sure you were okay. And yes, I blew up my ship to stop the raiders from reaching you. I know you still think of us as outsiders, but we both want to be here. I’m sorry that I got Diego involved in all of this, and I’m sorry for what happened to him. I can’t take any of that back. But I was hoping that I could help you. That I could fix this. Now.”

  Brana raises an eyebrow. “How?”

  “We were on Gastown. We have some idea about what you’re up against. About what we’re all up against. I just want to figure out a way to keep Tamoanchan safe. And Miranda, well . . . I’ll let her talk about that.”

  Miranda crosses her arms over her chest. “First I want to know who this is.” She gestures to Brana’s companion.

  “I’m Lewis,” he says.

  “He’s the leader of the minority party on the Council,” Brana says. I realize that I don’t have the slightest idea of how the Tamoanchan Council works. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that they have different parties, but I just assumed Brana was fully in charge.

  I put out my hand. “I’m Ben, and this is Miranda.”

  Lewis takes my hand, tentatively, and says, “I know.”

  “I suppose my reputation precedes me.”

  He flashes me an amused smile. “You could say that.”

  “You said you have something,” Brana says impatiently.

  “I have data,” Miranda says. “Data I took from Gastown. It should help advance our research immeasurably.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?” Lewis asks. It’s the first time he’s shown interest in any of this.

  “Meaning that we’re closer to a cure,” Miranda says. “But perhaps even closer to what Ben promised you when we first came here. A detection system for the virus.”

  The man’s eyes widen. Brana shakes her head.

  “Look,” I say. “We’re here. You have us. Why not just sit down and put it all on the table. Talk this through. Then you can decide what you want to do with us.”

  Brana seems to mull it over in her mind. The man looks at her, then back at me. “I think an exchange of information is warranted.”

  I nod at Lewis. “Then maybe we can start by talking about what happened here? When we left Gastown, Rosie had Diego on board the Osprey and they were headed straight here. Miranda and I flew to try to intercept the raiders and succeeded. With a little luck and a lot of foolishness, we managed to take them all out.”

  “What does that mean?” Lewis asks.

  “There were five ships. Three were carrying live Ferals. It’s a tactic they used back when they attacked Gastown. They drop the Ferals in ahead of their attack—let the panic set in, and then come in afterward to mop up.”

  “So what did you do?” Lewis asks.

  My lips curl up in a grim smile. “I flew my ship right in the middle of them and blew her up. Made quite a pretty light show.”

  “How did you survive?” Brana asks.

  “We jumped out of the ship in a raft,” Miranda says. “We fell into the water.”

  Lewis looks at me like I’m crazy. Fair enough. I shrug. “That’s . . . hard to believe,” he says.

  “You’re telling me,” I say. “So what happened here while we were doing the impossible?”

  Lewis leans back in his chair. “Rosie and Diego made it back and raised the alarm, so we started an evacuation.”

  “So you were off of the island before the attack came?” I ask.

  “That’s just it,” Lewis says. “There was never any attack.”

  “What?”

  “We evacuated and had a few ships come back to check on the island, and no other ships came.”

  “None?”

  Lewis shakes his head.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I say.

  “Maybe,” Miranda says. “When you found Diego, you said it seemed like he had just told his interrogator about Tamoanchan. Maybe a small group left Gastown right away without being able to assemble a larger group. Maybe we got all of them.”

  I remember what Tess told me the first time I visited her. “I did hear that with the disruption down at the plant, they had sent a number of ships there. That might have prevented them from sending a larger force. But surely they would have recorded the location.”

  “Maybe,” Miranda said.

  Could they really have lost the location? Or could they really not care?

  “We need more information,” I say.

  Brana nods, then shakes her head. “Of course. And you’re the one to find it, right? Leave the island again? I don’t think so.”

  “Someone should.” Things are starting to come together in my mind, but I’m not ready to bring them up yet. “So they didn’t come here. That’s good. How is Diego?”

  Brana looks at her boots. “He’s recovering. His wounds
were substantial, but none of them life-threatening. His sister’s been caring for him.”

  “Good,” I say. Rosie would defend him to the death. Of course, I’m probably not her favorite person right now, but I’ll still need to see him.

  “What happened after you fell into the water?” Brana asks. “How did you get out?”

  “I’ll tell you,” I say. “But can we sit down at least? It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

  So we all sit like civilized people. Except that their side has two armed guards on it and, judging by the way they’re standing, they’ve been given orders to shoot if necessary. Miranda is next to me, close by. Lewis and Brana are opposite us, but with adequate space between the two of them. I tell them both the whole story, going back to what happened after I left Tamoanchan. How I went to Gastown with Miranda, Rosie, and Diego. How we met Claudia there. How Rosie and I went with Claudia down to the helium plant to check it out. How we found evidence of Gastown scientists experimenting with Ferals. Miranda fills them in on what she and Diego got up to back on the floating city. Then together we take them through leaving Gastown, taking out the raiders, and then an abbreviated version of what happened with Mal, the naval base, and escaping.

  By the end, Lewis is looking at us incredulously. “All of that happened in the past few weeks?”

  “Just about,” I say. “I left out a few things.”

  Quarantine is painful—three days of confinement and restricted rations—but in the end they let us back into Tamoanchan.

  It’s late afternoon as we walk up to Diego and Rosie’s house. It’s a simple, wooden dwelling. They’ve taken the time to paint it in a light color that’s not quite white but not quite anything else. Their door, however, is green. I realize that the house’s colors are pretty close to the Osprey’s colors, their airship, and I raise my appreciation.

  “What are you smiling at?” Miranda asks, and I remember what we’re here for and chase the smile from my face.

  Diego.

  The last time I saw him, his face resembled ripe fruit more than it resembled a face. His dark-brown skin had been covered in cuts and bruises, one eye swollen shut, his face stained with his own blood. I didn’t see the torture, but I could see its marks. They had broken him. A more steadfast man I couldn’t imagine. And they broke him. I’m sometimes afraid to think of how.