The Light at the Bottom of the World

by London Shah

  I can’t think straight. It’s as if a giant eel has wrapped itself around my chest and is squeezing tighter and tighter. I keep bringing my Bracelet up so I can speak with the twins, and my wrist falls away when I remember it’ll get them into trouble and could possibly give my location away.

  How can Ari’s lungs not collapse under so much pressure, when I feel like mine have caved in under the weight of this one truth alone?

  Ari is an Anthropoid.

  And yet you haven’t asked him to leave.

  He had every opportunity to hurt us, and all he did was protect us.

  He isn’t one of us. Oh my God, Ari really is one of them.

  The weight of a thousand feet of water above me presses down now. It will crush me. Question after question. Demanding to be answered. I can’t stand not knowing.

  Jojo wanders in, and I shake the thoughts away, fetching her some biscuits from the kitchen. She sits in the viewport to eat.

  Ari returns to the saloon.

  “Does Grandpa know you’re . . . Does he know what you are?” I ask immediately.

  He checks Jojo’s wound and joins me by the seating area, taking the seat opposite to mine. And nods. “Your grandfather is a good friend of my father’s. He has always known our identity.”

  I whip my head up. “All this time Gramps has been friends with Anthropoids?”

  How can that even be?

  “Yes. We are not your enemy, Leyla.” He leans forward, tension simmering around him now. “Do you even know what really happened that day the Old World PM finally met with the two hundred artificially created beings that would help after the disaster? There was no attack. Anthropoids didn’t go ‘mad’ and strike the team and escape the compound. That is all a complete lie.” His face contorts with loathing. “What actually happened is the PM felt sick when he met what the Old World geneticists had conceived. He couldn’t stand it. He saw human beings, not some workforce, and he couldn’t bring himself to go ahead with the plans for the original two hundred. It took a lot of persuading, but he managed to get all involved to agree: The Anthropoids were human in every aspect but their ability to survive underwater. He ordered they be set free soon as they went through a sterilization program. Except the water hit before it—”

  “No way!” I wring my hands to stop them trembling. “You’re saying all these years—”

  “Leyla, let me finish, please? The PM declared it ethically wrong to use them as a labor force. It was decreed treasonous for anyone involved to ever speak of them to anybody. The two hundred would be freed, and they would die out naturally and nobody would be the wiser. As I was saying, a sterilization program was organized so they could never breed. The water hit before it could be carried out, though. Suddenly there were two hundred artificial humans free at large. The PM filed an honest account of everything, and to this day only subsequent prime ministers have access to that information—and have always been sworn to protect the Anthropoids. Until this government. They replaced the true history of the Anthropoids with one of barbarity and—”

  “You can’t alter an entire history of a species!” I close my eyes. “We would know if—”

  “You can, though. You can rewrite history if you’re in charge of the accounts that are passed down. They have used us ever since to push forward with their own twisted agendas. That is the truth. Not what the Anthropoid Watch Council puts out every single day. You’re being lied to. We are human, Leyla. We are you. We lack nothing—we only possess more. We’re you, but with the ability to exist underwater. That makes us ‘beasts’?”

  I stare, speechless, before finally finding my voice. “But even if that were true, the Anthropoids—”

  “You. Say ‘you.’ ”

  “The Anthropoids are beasts because they terrorize us. You can’t suddenly deny that! Attack after attack, day after day. They’ve caused such pain and horror and they terrorize—”

  “An angry minority. Otherwise it’s only ever in self-defense. And say ‘you.’ I am one of them.”

  My legs quiver. “I don’t understand! They attacked you, your community—in the Faroe Islands. They killed Lance and—”

  Pain breaks across his face, his eyes dulling. He shakes his head. “It was the Blackwatch, Leyla. They came for our community and they attacked us. It was all we could do to survive.”

  Enough. A sense of nausea rises inside. I can’t hear any more. Because I have no idea who or what to believe. Does Gramps really believe all this? I can’t even ask him. But that’s not the point. I must think about what I believe, how I feel about it. And I’m just so very confused.

  Because Ari does not come across as a liar . . .

  So what on earth am I meant to be thinking right now? I feel like I can’t breathe; I just want all this to go away.

  His eyes lock on to mine. “Please believe me; I did not set out to deceive you or anyone. Your grandfather thought it best that I didn’t reveal my true identity to you. You were not ready yet, he explained. Do you still want me to stay on, once we reach your grandfather’s cottage?”

  Oh, Gramps . . . Why didn’t he just have more faith in me and trust me? Why did he never tell me he knew Anthropoids—that he’d befriended some? I recall his words back at the hangar as we said our goodbyes:

  Please understand that whatever I do, it’s only with your survival and success in mind. . . . You will find your father, and I know he would want to explain things to you himself. As much as I want to speak to you about some matters, it isn’t my place.

  I nod as I hear the words again. I know Gramps has my best interests at heart; I can feel that. I just wish he’d told me everything. And what does he mean about Papa explaining things to me? Is Papa also friendly with Anthropoids? Has my whole life been one big lie?

  I realize Ari’s waiting for an answer.

  Do I want him, an Anthropoid, on board with me?

  “I don’t know. . . . I’ve no idea about anything anymore.”

  I wring my hands and try to focus. Do I still want him with me? Back at the Den it meant everything to hear he wanted to stay until we found Papa. Now I find out he’s one of them. I don’t know what to think. I had set off on my own. I had full faith in myself. Why should that change? Once we get to the cottage and I know what I’m doing next, I’ll— I gasp.

  “Leyla?”

  “The information we downloaded, I never asked Oscar to check it. Oscar!”

  The Navigator appears, straightening his olive velvet waistcoat. “You called, my dear?”

  “I’m transferring some data to you right now, Oscar. Please scan it for any link to Papa and tell me the moment you stumble on something.”

  The Navigator nods, receives the information, and disappears again.

  Ari watches me and I realize I never answered him.

  “What does it matter to you that my papa’s found?”

  Though I never say, Why would an Anthropoid care about a human? it’s clear from the muscle that tics along his jaw in response that he knows what I mean. I don’t care.

  More silence. Finally, I gesture to the water outside. “Why did you risk getting caught out there in the water, especially when it was crawling with the Blackwatch?”

  “Everyone fled when the place was attacked. There was nobody left to release the vessel from its moorings. There wasn’t enough time to go back and try to break into the workstation; if we hadn’t left when we did, you’d never have got out of there. The Blackwatch always have backup coming. I knew I could free the anchors manually, so I used the moon pool.”

  I try not to imagine him dropping into the darkness like that, but the images are unstoppable, vivid and terrifying. I nod and my throat starts hurting again.

  The Navigator appears, and I jump up in anticipation. “Tell me, Oscar.”

  “There is but a single mention of Hashem McQueen on the information transferred, my dear lady. His name and coordinates. I have already passed the references on to your good self.”

&n
bsp; “Well? What’s the location, Oscar?”

  “The coordinates point to the Far North, my dear.”

  North. At last, some direction. “That’s great, thank you, Oscar.”

  The Navigator bows with a flourish. “Indeed, I have nothing to declare but my genius.”

  I hasten to my maps, rummage through them, and flatten one out on the table.

  Ari folds his arms, and when he speaks, his voice is so low it’s barely discernible. “I would dive to the bottom of the deepest rift for my family. I understand why you need to find your father, Leyla. I am a human being. We are exactly like you in every way, except we can survive out there. I think you will need me with you.”

  A human being.

  I rub my arms, knowing he is right about at least one thing: I will need him. I wouldn’t be here now if he’d not set off on this journey with me. He has only helped us, and more than once. But to continue on with him, knowing what he is? Can I even do that?

  Put Papa first.

  At last I nod, though reluctantly. “If you’re sure,” I say quietly, following the coordinates on the map I have open before me.

  I tap the map before shifting my gaze to the water.

  “I am certain,” he says.

  All right, then? I wish my hands would stop quivering.

  “Oscar? Please register those coordinates you sent me and instantly adjust our route accordingly.”

  The Navigator tilts his head as he reads the new route for the Kabul. “Oh I say, a new trajectory! My dear, we are no longer to head for King’s Lynn?”

  I press my lips together; Grandpa isn’t going to be too happy about my not being at the cottage, but I must do this. And if Gramps can go with his gut instincts and decide I’m not ready for truths, then I can go with mine and determine my next move myself.

  Pushing my shoulders back, I hold Ari’s careful gaze for a moment before glancing away into the water.

  “No, Oscar,” I say, my voice steady and low. “We aren’t. Take her all the way north.”

  The intricate detail of the arches in the viewport is magnificent; I trace the patterns as I sip my cup of tea in between yawns. The vessel plows through the early morning blue-green waters. Faint natural light trickles through the depths. The current is choppy and waves heave over the sub as it cuts through the endless environment, the propeller back to optimum performance.

  Soon we’ll be halfway across the country. Jojo’s almost back to her stellar self, playing with the unattainable juicy bone as the projection teases her. I managed to wash her last night and change her dressing. The wound is healing nicely, thank goodness.

  I hope Gramps isn’t worrying. Whatever decisions he’s made so far, I have no doubt they’ve always been, as he said, with my best interests at heart. I can feel that in my bones.

  Ari.

  All I’ve ever wanted is to know the truth. No matter what. No matter how difficult or complicated something is, I’ve always believed a starting point for fixing it would be to have the whole bloody truth. Not knowing has always seemed worse. But . . . ever since I’ve found out Ari’s one of them, I wonder if I’ve been wrong. If it might not have been better that I didn’t know. Because this feeling since spotting him in the water yesterday is too much. I forget for a moment and then suddenly it comes rolling back, hitting me with full force and engulfing me to the point where I question what I’m doing, if I’m out of my mind traveling with him, and if I shouldn’t just ask him to leave.

  A team of square-shaped eco-bots drifts on the current outside, their lights blipping away as they gather environmental information. Several plaice bob along with them, and the group drifts on past the viewport.

  Ari insists he’s been himself all along. But he’s not what Anthropoids are like, so that can’t be true.

  And then I can’t help but think back on the Anthropoid who attacked me in the engine room . . . how it paused for one brief moment. Paused and looked at me with sympathy. And how, along with the hatred and rage on its face, there was very definitely also a hint of pain etched there. Suffering. What does it mean?

  And Ari’s explanation of their past . . . of what transpired at the labs when the PM first set eyes on the Anthropoids. It’s so different from the official account; if our government’s record of the event were false, surely there’d be some trail of the truth? I can’t wrap my head around it.

  The government has lied about other things, too.

  They have. They do. But I can’t do anything about it. I just wish I could forget all this, dammit. All of it. I want to block it out. I need to. I need to focus fully on Papa.

  I yawn again. I didn’t sleep well. After dinner last night, I collected all Ari’s things from around the sub and set the guest room up for him. I didn’t mind before. But now I really need to know he has his own space, that he won’t be in mine too much. The soothing, low music I thought he sometimes listens to is actually a wooden sax he plays, and I put that away for him, too. It never occurred to me that Anthropoids might play musical instruments. . . . Just after midnight, I woke up to him crying out, sheer panic in his voice. I recognized Lance’s name. He also called out to someone called Freya. I stood outside his room, listening. I never considered Anthropoids might dream. . . . He sounded distraught but quieted down after a few minutes, and I crept back to bed.

  Sleep still evaded me, though, and it wasn’t just Ari’s shocking identity on my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking of the government’s massive lie about living on the surface.

  How can we ever feel safe and secure about anything else they do or say?

  Relaxing music plays in the saloon. I finally finished unpacking yesterday. Personal items have been placed throughout the sub. The place looks perfect. It would feel perfect, too, if I could just forget what Ari is . . .

  Until I’ve found Papa, I need to at least try.

  I finish my tea and look out again. “Oscar? Where are we?”

  The Navigator appears, wearing a satin floral dressing gown. “My dear, we are approaching York.”

  My mouth falls open. York. Territory I never, not once, ever imagined I’d actually cross. I’m here, in the wilder waters of Great Britain. Outside of the safe capital.

  As I gaze out at the current, it shifts suddenly, a shadow descending. I stiffen, taking a step back. A flexible sheet of some kind materializes in the depths ahead. It drifts toward us, until it settles right on the sub’s bow. Whoa!

  I peer harder. It’s a piece of the material that connects the groups of solar panels up on the surface. I shake my head. It’s not obstructing the very front of the viewport, and it isn’t entirely opaque either—more a gauzy material. But still, it’s not good. We’d be oblivious to anything approaching from that side until it was too late. I move closer and can see where it’s got caught. Hmm, a simple nudge would do it. . . . I stare into the turquoise waters. The cleanest I’ve seen. I picture the moon pool and will myself not to imagine the worst, to stop feeling so afraid.

  I straighten and, wringing my hands, turn to the Navigator. “Oscar, tell me about the Kabul’s submersible.”

  I shift in the seat. The submersible is more spacious than Tabby’s single-

  seated cockpit. It’s shaped like an egg—a translucent egg on its side caged in titanium. The vessel rests in a smaller room, off the airtight chamber. Jojo wags her tail in the seat beside me. I pull the toggle switch toward me and power up the craft. Oscar’s face appears above the dashboard.

  “Salutations, my dear lady! Would you like a demonstration?”

  “Hey, Oscar. Actually, I think I’ve got it now.” I buckle up. “You passed my message on to Ari?”

  “I did apprise Ari, my dear. One feels it isn’t quite prudent to repeat his exact words, but I do believe he was somewhat scandalized at the news of you—”

  The door slides open, and Ari climbs into the submersible beside me. He picks up a delighted Jojo and places her in his lap. I stare at him. And then at Jojo.

&nb
sp; She makes contented sounds as he strokes her. I don’t understand. How come she doesn’t perceive anything wrong with him? Daft thing. Surely her senses should’ve picked up his identity from the moment she met him?

  You mean like yours did?

  Ari gazes ahead, his brow furrowed. “Oscar,” he commands, “you will secure the moon pool door as soon as we leave. You’ll remain stationary until we return. Any problem and you will alert us instantly.”

  “Alas! It distresses me to notify your good self that I am unable to take any security orders from you, sir.”

  Silence. Even I’d forgotten I’d taken away his primary rights.

  Ari is still. “Then could you at least ensure you’ve taken them from Leyla?”

  I sigh. “Oscar, please carry out the security requests. And tell Ari I know what I’m doing. I don’t need him with me for this. It’s just for a few minutes, for goodness’ sake.”

  Ari strokes Jojo. “Oscar, tell Leyla I know she can take care of herself. She’s demonstrated so. But this is why I am here. I promised her grandfather I would keep an eye on her. Especially when she insists on leaving the safety of the Kabul.”

  I fold my arms. “Oscar, explain to Ari why we can’t have a partially obstructed viewport.”

  Ari pauses, before clearing his throat. “I can do it . . .” he says quietly. “I could just swim to it and free it. You won’t be placing yourself in any danger then.”

  I grimace. There it is again. Another reminder. I just don’t want to be reminded. I straighten with relief when loud bleeping offers a distraction.

  Soon the submersible is through the hatch and inside the smaller chamber. I don’t feel a thing as my body gradually acclimatizes to the pressure of the water outside, and before I know it, we’re through the safety hatches. The hefty moon pool door releases. A robotic arm above us carries us over and places the sub down in the large opening, right into the water. I stare at the depths, taking deep breaths and doubting my decision.