by Weston Ochse
He heard the tapping again, louder this time. No, he corrected himself, it wasn’t louder, he was closer to the source of the sound. He pressed his ear to the wall and it was louder still.
Then he jerked his head back.
The sound was coming from outside.
It took a moment, but he realized that it could only be the Water Dogs. No-one else had access to the water like they did. Although the commandos were armed for war, he doubted if they’d brought any diving gear. But he reminded himself anything was possible.
He reached out and tapped in turn. Five taps, then four, then three, then two, then one.
The sequence was repeated back to him.
He repeated it back again, then counted to five.
Someone did the same.
“Hey!” Yelled the jailer. “Keep it down in there. No tapping.”
Kavika tapped three more times, then stopped. The tapping was all fine, but where would it get him? It wasn’t like whoever was on the other side would be able to free him. He started thinking about what had transpired. The deaths of his friends served to demonstrate how serious things were, but the biggest let-down was that Ivanov had turned traitor.
The temperature in the cell was rising, sharply. Sweat beaded on his brow. He could swear that the metal wall had taken on an orange tinge. Orange and now... red. And it was even hotter. Suddenly a rope of flame leaped at him, followed by a stream of sizzling sea water.
Kavika leaped to his feet and backed away. He almost called for help, but stopped himself. The Water Dogs had brought along a cutting torch. They’d somehow tracked him below decks.
Fear and elation coursed through him. He was going to be rescued—if he didn’t drown first. He stepped to the side of the arc of light that ate angrily through the metal hull, well aware that when it went, he’d be in the path of a blast of water.
Kavika jumped when jailer came to the cell door.
“What the hell is that noise?” he asked. Then he saw the red-hued wall. “What is that? What have you done to my cell?” The man opened the door, locked it behind him and pocketed the key, then strode towards the wall.
“I don’t know how you did this,” he began, placing his hands over the red wall and the gushing water, “But—aiieee!” His flesh sizzled and burned. He leaped backwards, staring in shock at his blistering hands. Then the wall collapsed inward, sending a disc of metal squarely into his face.
The gushing water was almost impossible to navigate and the cell was filling quickly.
“Help!” came a cracked voice from down the hall.
Was that... “Lopez-Larou?”
“Help me—Kavika? Is that you?”
The jailer was wedged against the cell door. Kavika was already knee deep in water. He dove for the man’s pants, latched his fingers around the key and jerked it free, then fumbled with the lock for a moment before opening it.
The water swept them both into the hall.
“Lopez-Larou!”
“Over here.”
He had trouble pinpointing the direction. He tripped and flopped down the hall, the water surging past him. He screamed her name again, but there was no response. He peered into the cells; all were empty except the last one, where she was standing against the back wall. When he got inside, he saw she’d been badly beaten. Her lip was torn at one corner and her nose was a bloody pulp. “Come on. I’ll get you out of here.”
He turned and they fought their way back up the hall. Now the water was knee deep throughout the jail area and rising fast. By the time they got back into his own cell, it was up to his waist. But he was in no hurry. They would have to wait until the entire room filled before they could swim out.
Lopez-Larou opened her eyes and managed a weak smile. “I was hoping you’d save me.”
I was hoping I would too, he thought to himself.
He took a deep breath, and before he could tell her to do the same, the water was over their heads.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
KAVIKA PUSHED LOPEZ-LAROU through the gap in the hull first, then followed after her. As soon as they were outside, strong hands grabbed them, and the Water Dogs propelled them forward at great speed using their powerful flippers.
Kavika could feel the pressure building in his lungs. A light grew, ahead of them in the water, until in a hollow rush, he was brought into a diving bell. Two Water Dogs joined him, one holding a Cousteau tube, the other lugging Lopez-Larou.
The distance between the surface of the water and the top of the bell was about five feet. A hose stretched from the top of the bell to the surface somewhere, allowing those inside the chance to catch a breath and depressurize if necessary.
“Get her,” he said, his voice echoing in the metal bell as he realized that Lopez-Larou wasn’t breathing.
The Water Dogs worked as a team. One supported Lopez-Larou above the water line while the other compressed her chest and pumped air into her lungs.
But there was no response to their efforts. He saw them glancing at him out of the corners of their eyes.
“Don’t stop!” he urged. “Keep trying.”
They did as he asked, but it was clear that the more they administered to her, the less chance they thought she had of survival. Maybe she’d been too badly beaten. Maybe she had something broken on the inside. Maybe it had all been too much for her.
They tried to stop again, but Kavika was maniacal about saving her. The inside of the diving bell rang as he screamed at them to resuscitate her.
Then finally she coughed. They turned her head so she could expel the sea water. She brought up gouts of phlegm-laced ocean.
Kavika blazed with relief as he pulled himself over to her. He took her from them and cradled her head against his shoulder.
“Hey... hey, there. Everything’s going to be all right now.”
Her coughing slowed. Tears bubbled from the corners of her eyes. Finally she said, “They hurt me, Kavika. They hurt me bad.” She pulled her shirt down, revealing nine tiny wounds that Kavika knew well.
Rage shot through him. Rage at the pain they’d caused Lopez-Larou. Rage at the murders of his Pali Boys. And rage at the traitorousness of Ivanov.
“They said I could be their donor,” she coughed. “They were going to take me back with them. They were going to use me.” She coughed again, this time bringing up water.
“That’s okay,” he whispered. “We’ll get them.” He shivered with the cold, or anger, or both. “We are going to get them.” He held her until she was able to use her legs to support herself in the water, then he turned to the Water Dogs. “Where’s Chito? What’s the plan?”
The one nearest him had a mole where his nose met his left cheek. “There is no more plan. We’re to take you to safety.”
So everything had gone to shit. That was just great.
The Water Dogs waited until they were ready, then they propelled them through the water between a series of bells. Twice Kavika thought the distance between them was so far he wouldn’t make it, but make it he did. All he had to do was fight against the cold.
Eventually they came to the last bell. This one was made of glass or plastic. Outside, Kavika could see what could only be Ivanov’s submarine.
He turned to the Water Dogs. What were they doing? Why had they brought him here?
“Wait,” said one.
The other caught his breath, dove and swam to the submarine. He knocked several times against the hull with a piece of metal he pulled from his belt. The effect was immediate. Bubbles shot from the side of the submarine as a torpedo tube opened.
The remaining Water Dog gestured for Lopez-Larou to go inside, but Kavika wasn’t having any of it.
“What are you doing? Don’t you know that Ivanov turned traitor?”
The Water Dog shook his head. “It’s not that way.”
Kavika’s eyes shot wide. “The hell it isn’t! I was standing on the barge when he stood by and watched my friends get stabbed in the brain.”
The Water Dog kept shaking his head and acted as if he hadn’t heard Kavika. “It is not that way.”
“I heard you the first time. Saying it twice doesn’t make it true. Where’s Chito?” He raised his voice. “I want to talk to Chito.”
“He’s inside there,” said the Water Dog, pointing.
“He’s in the sub?” Kavika asked, incredulously.
The Water Dog nodded.
The other Water Dog returned to catch his breath. He gave his compatriot a look, who in turn turned to Kavika.
Kavika’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know that you aren’t leading us into a trap?”
“Would we free you from the Real People’s ship to take you into a trap?”
Kavika felt his concern falter at the logic. Still, he had to be sure. He glanced at Lopez-Larou, who was suffering but stable. “I’m going first,” he said, then took a breath and let himself down into the water.
Once under, he swam into the opening of the torpedo tube. This was the second time he’d been in one; he’d been told about the first time, but only remembered flashes of it. Once inside, he waited for something to happen. The tube was large enough to hold two of him if necessary. What were they waiting for? His air was going fast. He felt a buzzing in his brain, taking over all coherent thought. He hammered at the metal door. Then, with a hollow click and a snap, the water gushed out and the chamber filled with air. In a matter of seconds, the door opened and he was pulled into the torpedo room of the submarine, gasping.
Hands hooked him under his arms and lifted him. It was the muscle-bound Anatoli who helped him to his feet. Chito was there, as was Kirill, the short mechanic who kept the ship running. The yellow light in the room brought out the man’s scars, said to have come from an old engine room fire.
“Ivanov sends his regards,” Kirill said, tripping slightly over the English consonants.
Behind him, Anatoli and Chito closed the door. Anatoli pressed a button and Kavika could hear the gush of water as it refilled the tube.
“What do you mean, he sends his regards?”
“He knew you’d be angry. Better let him explain. Just know that he is on your side, not theirs.”
Kavika’s head spun with the information. How long ago had he made a deal with the Corpers, or The Rediscovered Dawn, or whomever? Whose side was he on, besides his own? “Chito, what’s going on?”
The Water Dog smiled grimly. “We knew for a long time that Ivanov was in the employ of the Corpers. We approached him a few years ago. Given the chance, he joined us. We’ve had a secret cooperative against the Corpers and the Real People ever since.”
“And you didn’t let me know?”
“Donnie Wu knew. But the information died with him.”
“Were you going to tell any of us?”
“We were, but Ivanov felt that you wouldn’t understand. He wanted to explain it to you himself. He still takes the death of your father seriously. He blames himself for that.”
The tube gurgled behind him, seeming to take an eternity. Then Kirill pressed a button to clear the water, and in short order they had Lopez-Larou on her feet.
Chito took one look at her. “Let’s get her to the med unit.”
Kavika carried her down the hall, escorted by the others. When they got there, one bed was already full. Liko lay ensconced in bandages. The last time Kavika had seen him, Jacques had shot him in the back. The Water Dogs must have rescued him and brought him here. His heartbeat, on the monitor by his bed, was slow but steady.
They put Lopez-Larou on another bed. Oleg, the ship’s medic, came from behind a curtain and began to work on her. Kavika recognized him as the one who had taken care of him after the monkey had been removed. Oleg pushed Kavika out of the way, working with the brusque efficiency of midwives and nurses.
Kavika watched for a few minutes as they patched her wounds and put salve on her bruises. So much had happened in the last few hours; too much. His thoughts went to Kaja. He couldn’t help but wonder what was happening, to him and the surviving Pali Boys. There was nothing else to be done. He had to find a way to rescue them.
Grisha walked into the room, tall and lean, his skin the color of dried fish. “Come with me.”
Kavika raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”
“I must introduce you to Dragonov.”
Kavika thought he’d met everyone aboard the submarine, and didn’t remember anyone called Dragonov.
“Please. You follow. Ivanov has planned this to be.”
Kavika thought about all the war movies the old Russian liked to watch, and wondered exactly how long he’d planned for the events of the last twenty-four hours. Finally, he gave in and followed.
They climbed to the top of the conning tower. Petr and Sasha, two deckhands he’d met before, stood staring across the floating city. Petr wore a headset, and Sasha was holding binoculars to his face. Between them was an immense rifle with an angular stock.
“I introduce you,” Grisha said proudly, pointing at it. “Dragonov.”
“What is it?” Kavika asked.
“It’s like the finger of God,” Sasha said, without removing his glasses. “It’s a sniper rifle from back when we ruled the world.”
“We used to rule the world?” Petr asked.
“Yes. At least all the important parts. We gave the throwaways to the Americans.”
“That was nice of us to give them so much, nyet?” Petr raised his hand. He seemed to be listening for some moments. When he was done, he turned to Kavika. “That was Ivanov. Your friends are still alive. Some. Of the fifteen that went to the ship, six are still alive.”
Kavika gulped. “Is that including me, or does that make seven?”
“I’m afraid that’s including you.”
Kavika let the news sink in. The Hawaiian contingent aboard the Floating City was one of the smallest of them all. Every loss was significant. As far as they knew they were the last Hawaiians on the planet.
“What’s going on? Where are they?” he asked softly.
“Here,” Sasha said, offering the glasses. “Take a look.”
Kavika accepted the glasses. It took several tries before he was able to get the full benefit of binocular view. He let Sasha adjust the angle and direction of his view until he focused on the image of his fellow Pali Boys. What he saw made him whistle softly.
They were hanging from chains affixed to a crane on one of the skyscraper ships, a hundred feet above the flat deck of the barge. He focused and brought them in to sharp clarity. In fact, the chains from the crane held up a long metal crossbeam, from which the Pali Boys hung by metal manacles. Kavika named each one of them until he came to Kaja. The leader had been beaten. His lips were like mangled tuna sushi, and both eyes were swollen shut. If it wasn’t for the blood that bubbled at the corner of his mouth, Kavika would have thought he was dead.
“What’s Ivanov doing now?” he asked.
“Nothing. He’s not in a position to do anything other than relay information.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s wired. I can hear whatever is going on around him.”
“You mean you can hear everything? You can hear Jacques?”
“Yes. That’s exactly—wait.” Sasha adjusted a knob on the radio attachment on his chest. He acknowledged, then listened for a moment. “Good. Wait for the signal,” he said. Then he switched the knob back to where it was. “That was Mr. Kelly. He is ready with Ivanov’s part of the original plan.”
“The whalers?” Kavika asked, a slow smile beginning to displace his frown.
“Yes. Out of the six, he found four still working, and eleven harpoons. He doesn’t think that two of them are close enough to be effective, but there is one that is virtually under the zeppelin.”
Kavika swung the binoculars to the Zeppelin, then looked directly below it. He recognized several Tiburones moving aboard the ship, their movements slow, never once looking up at the Zeppelin. They knew what they were doing.
> He lowered the glasses and handed them back to Sasha. For the first time in a long time, he felt like there was some hope after all. “When’s everything set to go?”
“We’re waiting for Ivanov to get the commandos into a clear area. Grisha here is an expert at the Dragonov.”
“I shoot seals in the arctic.” The narrow man rubbed his stomach. “They taste best.”
“Do I have time to get my boys ready?” Kavika asked.
Sasha and Petr exchanged glances. “We can’t be sure. It all depends.”
Kavika grabbed the rail at the top of the conning tower. “Then I need to hurry.” He pulled himself up.
“Wait!” Petr shouted. “What are you going to do?”
“Save my Pali Boys. Try not to shoot them when this all starts.”
“Here,” Petr said, handing him a length of red pipe. “It’s a flare. Remove that end, place it on the other, and hammer it against something so that the top is pointed towards the sky. I’ll try and hold everything off for as long as I can. You fire this when you’re in place and ready.”
Kavika took the flare and stashed it in the sheath where his knife should have been. “Give my love to Lopez-Larou,” he said.
Then he was over and gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY
ONE AFTER THE other they dove into the oil at the bottom of the barge. It had been on the ship as long as the oldest of them. This was Hawaiian oil, and by Pele and Lono, it would protect them against the commandos of The Rediscovered Dawn.
The Pali Boys were sixty-seven strong. Every full-time and part-time Pali Boy had come. Kavika had stood on top of a cargo container and told them what had happened. He talked about the death of Lukini and the others, as well as Liko’s jump and how he was now recuperating in the submarine. At the mention of the deaths, everyone murmured. But at the mention of Liko’s dash for freedom, they all cheered. Then Kavika told them about the six left and how they were hanging high above the barge. Many of them had seen this already. Finally, Kavika told them of what the Corpers and the Real People had been doing to them. He told them about the lies and about what the blood rapes were really for and how they could harvest a special plasma of O-Neg blood from those who had been monkey-backed. He told them of the vats of what he believed to be blood he’d seen aboard the Freedom Ship. Then he told them that he knew of a way to save Kaja and the other Pali Boys, and in order to do that, everyone would have to come and join them.
