“Technically, they’re one-seater attack subs,” Thom said, eying them closely. He missed Ralla’s glare. Thom continued to scan the bay, and found what he was looking for. He made his way over to the tool bench and grabbed an oversized wrench from a hanger on the wall behind it.
“OK, go get in...” He looked around at the stable of subs, and chose the closest one to the pool. “That one. There’s probably a single glowing button. Press it.”
They moved in different directions, their footsteps echoing though the quiet bay. The air smelled like seawater and grease. Thom moved towards the lock they had entered and opened it. He stuck his head out into the corridor, looked both ways, then looked up and down the jam where the door sealed itself against the bulkhead. Holding the wrench over a certain spot, he hit the button again. The door slid back, pinning the wrench between the jam and the door. The door motor whined.
He jogged across the bay, past the sub where Ralla sat. He heard it making noise, its systems coming alive and its engines spooling up. Near the outer wall, next to the pool, there was a small console. Thom stood over it and looked from the pool and closed lock back up at Ralla. She had the cockpit canopy open, and gave him a thumbs up. Thom pressed a button on the middle of the console, and it was as if he lit off a war.
Alarms pierced the silence and echoed into cacophony. Blue strobes flashed from locations all along each wall. Thom pressed the button again, and sprinted toward their new sub. Jumping up towards the cockpit, he half pulled himself in and half got pulled in by Ralla. The water in the pool started to churn.
The seating position in the sub was severely reclined, and Thom and Ralla squeezed into it the best they could. Thom took up most of the seat, and angled himself so his left side was partially against the bulkhead on that side. Ralla folded herself into what was remaining of the right side, nestling rather uncomfortably into the space between his arm and his torso.
Thom scanned the controls and within a few moments got the craft moving. The electric motors in the wheel hubs provided minimal speed, but got them around till they were facing the ramp at the fore-most corner of the pool. The water was getting increasingly turbulent. Waves had formed and water had started spilling over the top of the pool and onto the deck.
The lock started opening slowly, but rapidly increased its pace. Due to the speed of the Pop, water surged up and over the stern-most edge of the pool. As the lock reached its fully open position, a continuous wave of water inundated the end of the bay. The surge crashed into the far wall, and started echoing back, bringing once parked subs with it like toys. The wave, now not much higher than knee height, hit the forward wall, completing the flooding of the bay. Air screamed out of the bay though the braced-open lock, seawater rapidly taking its place. It wasn’t more than a few moments before the water level was at the bottom of Thom and Ralla’s sub.
“Hang on,” he said. Ralla braced herself against the cockpit and Thom as he throttled up the dry engines and eased the craft into the water using the electric hub motors. The turbines behind them screamed in the open air. The second the bow touched the water, the current took it, jerking them sideways and pulling them deeper into the water and towards the rear of the ramp. The port turbine submerged first, spinning them around so they faced back the way they came. Thom swore, throttled into reverse just as the starboard turbine caught. The end of the pool loomed large in the viewscreen just as the powerful engines shot them out into the ocean. Thom cut the engine and powered down the ship immediately, floating in silence along the dark rippled hull of the Population. Looking out the cockpit to the left, they could see their sister subs being ejected from the bay and slowly sinking to the bottom.
Thom looked the other way, at the stern of the Pop. Ralla had relaxed her grip. Sensing he had no time to explain, Thom braced his feet against the sub, pulled Ralla tight against him, and closed his eyes.
The Population had six propellers arranged roughly in a “U” shape. Each eight-bladed propeller was just over four stories in diameter. As the tiny attack sub cleared the stern of the ship the massive suction of the props sucked them into the wake, tossing them around like a bit of paper in a hurricane. Thom and Ralla were thrown violently about the cockpit, impacting each other and every surface in the sub.
They awoke to find themselves bruised, battered, and uncomfortably tangled up with one another. A single button was glowing warmly on the console. The backup mechanical dials showed them to be at neutral buoyancy and in a slow spin. As he and Ralla adjusted into the seat the best they could, Thom looked around them to see if there was any trace of the Pop. Nothing but empty sea. He powered up the sub. The main screen showed a thermal layer not too far above them, and no craft in the vicinity. He set the sub to rise slowly, without using the main engines. Once through the layer, and again showing no other ships, he powered up the main engines. Everything appeared to be in working order.
“OK, Dome F211 here we come. Two days in here won’t be too bad, right?” Thom said with a smile.
Ralla scowled.
It took them two and a half days to get to the farming dome, F211. From there, a transport got them to the Uni in just under a day. The transport, designed for short trips hauling grain to the Uni when it was parked nearby, was modified with extra seats, supplies, fuel. Its only cargo, besides Thom and Ralla, was the attack sub stolen from the Pop.
Something had changed between them. Silence was the norm during their cramped voyage, but the close quarters had somehow diminished the animosity. During the last leg on the transport, they said nothing, but sat next to each other despite a choice of seats. She fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.
F211 had signaled the Uni, so when Ralla and Thom stepped off the transport it was to a hero’s welcome. Everyone they knew, and everyone those people knew, filled the large forward bay and the corridor beyond. Cameras broadcast their arrival throughout the ship.
Of course, it was predominantly for Ralla. Her father did his best to look regal as he greeted his only child, back from the dead. The tears were real, though his standing was not. He was supported by no less than two aides and a hastily made brace hiding under his robes.
Thom spotted Olly and the crew, but before he could wave, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Ralla had released her father and was now kissing a tall, handsome young man, much to the delight of the crowd. Thom was glad the cameras weren’t on him. To their credit, Olly and his friends either didn’t notice the look of disappointment and jealousy on his face, or said nothing if they did.
As the mass of people slowly made their way out of the bay, Thom received more pats on the back and handshakes than he could count. The crowd moved with them and in front of them, as if a single entity. Thom started walking slower and slower, letting the bulk of the crowd—and the cameras with their built-in spotlights—follow Ralla, her father, and Mr. Handsome. Thom caught glimpses through the crowd of the two holding hands. After a few more minutes, Thom just stopped, and his friends stopped with him. They all understood what he was doing, and he motioned for them to go the other direction down the corridor. They were able to disappear through a lock in the Dockyard.
The Dockyard was the largest bay on the ship, running down the keel for almost the entire length of the Garden. This was where the largest ships were able to dock, and even be lifted from the water if the need arose. With the reduction in the average sizes of the ships in the Uni’s small merchant fleet, it wasn’t used much anymore.
At least, it hadn’t been. The amount of activity surprised Thom as they made their way across the huge space. Subs hung from cradles. Groups gathered around long tables all around the pool, which had its lock closed. People with carts drove trailers of parts big and small all over. Sparks flew from grinding. Searing bright pinpricks of light denoted welding. There was activity everywhere. Seeing his confusion and his pace slow, Olly nodded to the lock on the far side.
“I know it’s only been a few days, but a lot has cha
nged. We’ll explain at the bar,” Olly said over the din.
It took them a few more minutes to cross the space, then a few more to make their way down the main corridor on that other side of the ship. A short elevator ride later and they were at The Landing getting utterly annihilated. Thom drank for free.
Ralla exhaled slowly to the silence of her cabin. Behind her, Cern closed the door, and as soon as his hands left the door controls they were on her shoulders. Suddenly he was this abnormal presence in her space. She smoothly slipped away and stepped further into her quarters. Things were different.
“I cleaned up a bit while you were gone. I couldn’t think what else to do,” Cern explained, sensing her confusion. She didn’t know what to say. The bed was made with her favorite pale green sheets. Her glass desk was empty of its usual clutter. Gone were the piles of clean and dirty clothes, presumably in one of the closets. Even the curtain that had fallen and been forgotten was rehung. It was all very sweet of him, so why was she so uncomfortable? He tried rubbing her shoulders again, and his soft touch was grating. She ducked away from him again.
“I’m sorry, Cern. Please. I just need some time alone.”
“OK, sure. I understand,” He held his hands up and gave his patented disarming smile. “Can I see you later?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“OK, well, I’ve got dinner planned for us with some of the Council members tomorrow. I’ll send you the info.”
“Cern...”
“What?”
“Nothing. I’ll talk to you later.”
He stepped up and kissed her on the forehead, then left. She fell backwards onto her bed, hoping for sleep, but got nothing.
IX
“At some point do, any of you actually want to listen to what I have to say?” Ralla said rather loudly over the varied conversations. The conversations continued.
The Council chamber was full. Each of the eight other Council members plus her father sat at their seats, while their various aids behind them jockeyed for position amongst each other. Mixed in were the Chief of Mechanics, Chief of the Fleets, and for good measure, representatives of the Farmer’s lobby, the Fisherman’s lobby, and the Dock and Bay Workers’ Union. Captain Sarras sat stoically in his seat at the end of the black glass table closest to the door. Ralla stood at the other end, her back to the balcony and the Yard. Sarras was a tall, thin man with black hair, angular features, and a piercing stare. His body made no unnecessary movements, which made him an odd person to look at. He rose slowly from his seat. The room silenced immediately. His eyes focused sharply on Ralla.
“Miss Gattley. Please tell us of the Population and your time there,” he said, before sitting back down as slowly as he had gotten up.
Ralla stifled a smile, and told the silent room of the previous days. When she got to the part of the flooding and the presumed murder of the personnel in the dome, there was hushed surprise and concern from the room. She took a moment to drink some water from the table, mostly to give her a chance to gather her own composure. Cern Hennorr caught her eye, and gave her a wink. She pretended she didn’t notice, lowered the aquamarine glass to the table, and continued with the briefing. She finished with the escape and the journey back to the Uni.
“There were a few other things that Thom and I noticed. Their ship is in bad shape. Really bad. Worse than ours. Things were rusted, corroded. They seem to be doing fine with food—we didn’t see anyone wanting for anything—but it was as if none of them could see what was right in front of them: how much danger they were in by letting their ship fall apart before their eyes.” Her comments were not lost on the Council members, but not in the way she had hoped.
“Miss Gattley, were you able to discern their overall military strength?” Council Junior Larr said, interrupting.
“No, we didn’t have time.”
“How about overall fleet numbers, sizes, that kind of thing?”
“No, that information wasn’t in the terminals we found,” she replied with a sigh. Larr nodded and leaned back in his chair, as if done with the entire proceedings.
“Let us adjourn for the day and go over what Miss Gattley has said. We’ll meet back here tomorrow and discuss our next plan of action,” Council Proctor Jills said, rising from his seat opposite Sarras. The Captain also stood, nodded once at Ralla, and left with his two lieutenants.
The room started to empty, and aides came up to her with questions their bosses didn’t want to ask in front of the room. Her father nodded at her as he was wheeled out in his cart, and she nodded back. Cern stood off to the side, patiently waiting. One by one the aides got their answers, and left quickly to report back. Soon, the room was empty, and Cern and Ralla were able to step out onto the balcony overlooking the Yard. He wrapped his arm around her, and kissed her on the top of her head.
“We all just figured they were holding you for ransom. When we hadn’t heard anything after a few days, I started pressuring the Council to organize a rescue party.”
“I’m sure that went over well,” Ralla said, turning towards him and freeing herself from his arm in one motion. She looked up at his face. He really did have some amazing eyes, she thought.
“After hearing all that you were going though… it kills me I wasn’t there for you.”
“Well I did do OK by myself.”
“And this Thom guy. I’ll have to thank him personally.”
“I’m sure he’ll love that.” Her sarcasm was completely missed as Cern nodded, looking out into the Yard.
“Is everything OK? I didn't hear from you last night.”
“Everything is fine. I just needed some time to myself.”
“I missed you, that's all,” he said, hugging her.
“I missed you too.” After a pause, she returned the hug.
This time, Mrakas Gattley was in bed when Ralla arrived, and he looked grateful for it. The bedcovers were pulled up to his chin, and he was pale, gaunt, and shivering. She sat down on the edge of his bed and he took her arm in his hand. She leaned over and curled up next to him, like she had done since she was a little girl. He rested his hand on her head and, the world temporarily forgotten, she fell quickly asleep.
The next morning, Ralla and Cern met for breakfast at a restaurant halfway up the starboard wall in the Yard. It had a terrace that stuck out from the wall, offering unmatched views of the greenery through the hanging vines. The food was mostly fresh vegetables, with some fish, and for the more flush patrons, even fresh eggs. The owner seated them at the best table, at the apex of the terrace, and made it a point to bring them two omelets, on the house. Even Cern was impressed, and he thanked the owner profusely.
Cern was almost as well known around the Yard as Ralla herself, though perhaps not shipwide. His parents had been extremely successful turning his father’s fishing business into a small empire, with a few dozen ships and their own processing facility in the outer ring. They supplied fish to half the restaurants in the Basket. While neither of his parents had aspired to politics, they might as well have, as there were few decisions made by the Council that didn’t involve input from one or both of the Hennorrs. They owned an entire shipsuite on the bow side of the Yard. Tenncy Hennorr and Mrakas Gattley had known each other, and were often friends, their whole lives. When the Hennorrs had Cern, many within the families and throughout the Yard, secretly hoped for a daughter.
They inevitably grew up together, but ended up going to two different schools for most of their education: Ralla at the leadership school Ahead, while Cern attended the larger business school that was part the ship’s college. Though their families lived only a few minutes from each other, after adolescence they ended up seeing each other only in passing and on holidays. After school they reconnected, and much to the delight of their parents, started dating. That was five years ago.
Ralla knew from his silent wince that he wasn’t enjoying his omelet. She reached across the table, jabbed the remainder with her fork, and swung it over to
her plate. He scowled, but said nothing. She hadn’t taken more than a few bites when she noticed a young man nosily making his way across the restaurant. She recognized him as an aide assigned to the council, but couldn’t remember his name. As he approached the table, his eyes couldn’t leave the double stack of omelet on her plate. He addressed it as he spoke to her.
“Miss Gattley, the Council requests your presence immediately.”
“Uh...” she said, motioning towards the plate, even though his eyes still hadn’t left it.
“I’m sorry, Miss Gattley. They said I needed to find you and bring you down to the Dockyard immediately.”
“The Dockyard?”
“Yes. I was told to say to you, ‘Sunlight.’”
Ralla was out the door before her dropped fork settled to the floor. Cern nodded at the aide, and then motioned at the omelet. The younger man’s eyes went wide.
The Dockyard was empty, save for a dozen or so people gathered around Ralla and Thom’s stolen attack sub. There were four Council members including Jills and Larr, their long maroon robes a stark contrast to the wet gray steel of the deckplates. A handful of techs and mechanics poked at different areas of the sub. A half-dozen aides and two very out of place and armed marines hovered nearby. Standing and slightly swaying, facing it all, was Thom. He turned as she approached, then turned back to the sub. Jills and Larr separated from the group and approached Thom and Ralla with the marines in tow. Jills raised his hand to silence Ralla before she spoke.
“Miss Gattley, you are not to speak. If you say a word to Mr. Vargas, you will both be confined to the brig until the current crisis is resolved. If I am clear you may nod.”
She did as he instructed.
“Mr. Vargas, would you please tell us exactly how you escaped from the submarine Population.”
Undersea Page 6
