Nova takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. “We’re not. Not yet. We have to get the hell out of here.Now.”
35
“Start slowly. Disguise yourself and get to know the locals. Earn their trust. Get to know them. Not every rumor you hear will be helpful, and not every relationship you build will bear fruit. Humor me and try subtlety. The connections you quietly form will serve you well when the time comes.” - Decoded message from ILF handler Hiro Tanaka to ILF undercover operative Nightingale
Marcus
I can’t punch the control panel on this sub, but holy shit, do I want to.
“Move. Faster.” I grind the words out again. “Get lower!”
The overly polite, mechanical female voice gives me the same answer it did every other time. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”
“Más rápido!” I bark in case it understands Spanish. “There’s less turbulence and resistance down deeper.”
“Sorry, I don’t understand.”
“Go fuck yourself, Gussie,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead.
I’m almost an hour into the trip back to Blue Arrow, and I haven’t gotten the sub higher than forty knots. With its aerodynamic design, this thing must be capable of at least twice that.
It’s brutal being stuck in a confined space, surrounded by darkness, while knowing Briar and the others might be struggling to survive. Or worse.
McClain once told me the volcano on the island has the capability of wiping out every living thing on it. But it could be tens of thousands of years between eruptions, and the volcanologist who was on the island when McClain took the flower samples from it said it would be dormant for a very long time.
Stupid fuck. The shield must have been destroyed. That explains how the Tiders got into camp. What about our supplies? And the well—the only plentiful supply of drinking water.
I dread seeing what’s become of the place that’s become my home, but I also can’t get back there fast enough. Briar can take care of herself, but she’s not selfish. She looks out for her friends and anyone who can’t look out for themselves.
“Ascending,” the automated voice says, the craft moving upward just slightly.
I get announcements of ascents and descents, but I don’t seem to have any control over the route. I’m just along for the ride, which is excruciating. If I at least had to watch out for giant whales or whatever, at least I’d have something to focus on.
Gussie’s interior is sleek and minimalistic, mostly white with silver accents. It’s cool and comfortable; the ride smoother than the one on my one-man sub-slash-toilet.
“Hey, do you read me?”
That’s Briggs. I jump up from my seat, looking for the radio he’s talking to me on.
There’s no radio in here. At least nothing I recognize as one.
“How do I use the radio?”
No answer.
“I swear to Christ, I’m going to scrap you for parts, you piece of shit. Where’s the fucking radio?”
“Look for a little white square on the control panel,” Briggs says through a speaker I can’t see. “Open it and there should be a switch inside. Flip that to talk back to me.”
I find the square quickly, my shoulder slumping with relief when I open it and see the switch. I sit down in my seat and flip it down.
“Hey, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Why is this thing going so slow? I keep telling it to move faster, but it ignores me.”
“It detects obstacles and goes around them. There’s a huge coral reef and underwater volcanoes.”
