by M M Buckner
Beside Qi sat two uniformed protes, and they were laughing together as if they’d just shared a joke.
Dominic bellowed, “Major, you deserted me!”
Her two friends glanced up. One was a pasty, red-haired man of Euro descent. He stared just past Dominic’s head and wouldn’t make eye contact. The other was a small, sallow Asian woman with stooped shoulders and a sad, plain face. She was not especially remarkable—yet something about her eyes caught Dominic’s attention. She seemed familiar. Had he met her before? He couldn’t look away from her. Qi whispered a few words, and the two protes hurried away down the ladder.
Then Qi climbed up a couple rungs to meet him. “Nick-O, remember our cover story. Better not call me major.”
He scowled. “Who was that Asian woman? I’ve seen her before.”
“Ane Zaki? She was born on this ship. Maybe you saw her photo in a file.”
Ane Zaki. He turned the name over in his mind. After a moment, he said, “I’m not in the habit of studying prote files,” just as the NP said, “I don’t clutter my memory with prote files.”
Qi pinched his arm and shushed him. “Don’t say ‘prote’! These people consider it a slur. I mean it, Nick. Don’t use that word again.”
With some difficulty, he shook off her grip. “I demand to see the captain. Take me to the bridge.”
Almost simultaneously, the NP said, “The Net link should be on the bridge.”
Dominic clenched his teeth, then tried making silent words with his throat muscles. The subvocalizing was easier than he expected. “NP, we need a better working arrangement.”
“Anything, son. I’m here to help.”
Dominic bit the inside of his cheek. Then he drew a calming breath and subvocalized, “You’ll be more helpful if you speak only when I ask a specific question. Agreed?”
“If you think that’s best.” The NP sounded miffed.
Dominic spoke aloud to Major Qi. “I’m here to negotiate, and you’re here to guide, correct? So guide me to the bridge.”
“Put this on.” Qi tossed him a smelly pullover tee shirt laced with holes.
He held the thing at arm’s length. “You expect me to wear this.”
“C’mon, Nicky. Unbend. You need a shirt to meet the captain.”
“I didn’t realize the Benthica had a dress code.” He held the rag at arm’s length.
Qi raised an eyebrow. “The Pressure of Light. Remember that.”
She seemed less playful now, and that suited Dominic fine. With only a slight widening of nostrils, he pulled on the grubby shirt. It was too small, and it bound under his armpits, so he flexed his muscles and ripped a few more holes.
Counter to all logic, Qi said the captain was stationed belowdecks, so they had to go down, not up. Another annoying delay. But the captain would be a key information source, and with better information, Dominic could finish his job much faster. So he backed down the ladder, holding the grimy rungs with both hands.
The vertical steel shaft smelled of fungus and paint. Two ladders ran down it, and the space between them was so narrow that Dominic couldn’t help but rub against protes on the other ladder. At each deck, a catwalk attached the ladders to a bulkhead door. Two landings down, Qi stopped at one of the catwalks and led him through the bulkhead into a passage so congested, they had to walk sideways. He glimpsed a man shaving pale stripes in a woman’s eyebrows and a young girl making music by rubbing the rims of glass jars. Juveniles were scratching designs in the wall paint, but he didn’t have time to see much because Qi moved fast. She took three left turns, then a right—he memorized the route. No way was he going to forget how to find that bathysphere. It was still his surest hope of escape.
“Tell me about this captain,” he said, following on her heels. “Does he have authority to negotiate?”
“She will give us five minutes, as a favor. Her name’s Gervasia. I figured you would wanna meet her.”
Dominic subvocalized, “NP, do you have anything on Captain Gervasia?”
“She’s not the captain. She’s a prote. Like I said before, I didn’t clutter my memory with prote files. I’m nano-sized. I can’t exactly store the entire Ark inside your eye.”
An old couple was bending over a smoking brazier, toasting a piece of seaweed, and Dominic started to say something. Open fire shouldn’t be allowed on a submarine. But what was the use? This ship had no execs to enforce order.
Qi’s braid swung between her shoulder blades as she walked. He spoke to her back. “Your Org bosses didn’t give me much of a briefing. What are the miners’ demands?”
“Nick, I don’t know anything more than you.”
“Right. Splendid arrangement.”
Dominic kept himself in shape at his gym—every exec did—but he wasn’t used to walking in shoes made of rags, stepping over sleeping bodies and climbing down ladders. His sinus pain was clearing up, but he still had a nasal drip, and he’d lost the silk scrap he called a handkerchief.
“Major, I need an antiviral tab,” he said.
“Just Qi. Get it straight, Nick.” She fished the tab from a pocket in her uniform. “This is the last one I have. You decide when to take it.” She put it in his palm and curled his fingers around it. Dominic immediately popped it into his mouth.
They found the captain sitting alone in a cramped workstation, dictating an entry into her log. Her desk faced a broad round window looking out on the seafloor, but the view was blocked by a solid wall of underwater debris pressing against the glass from outside. When the captain glanced up, Dominic drew a quick breath. Captain Gervasia was stunning. A willowy blonde with round blue eyes, just the feminine type he preferred. Unconsciously, he straightened his shoulders and thrust his chest out. The woman frowned.
“You asked to see me. I can’t believe anyone asked to see me. I’m the captain, you understand? The captain of a ship that doesn’t go anywhere. Never will go anywhere. We’re sunk to our eyelids in a garbage dump. See here, look at these controls. I’m a genius with these controls. I can put this tub through a needle’s eye. I can stand it on its nose and spin a pirouette.” She slapped the controls with her palm. “They’re frozen. Locked down till the next ice age. So what did you want to see me about?”
Her complaint caught Dominic by surprise, but he decided the arrogant tone suited a captain. When he tried to see what she was writing, she immediately blanked her screen and glared at him. She intrigued him.
The major spoke up. “Captain Gervasia, my name is Qi, and this is my friend, Nick. We’re new.”
“New. Everyone’s new. The whole world is new. What am I supposed to do about it?”
Dominic didn’t like her self-important whine. Still, he sat on the edge of her desk and crossed his arms to show off his biceps. “Gervasia. That’s a lovely name. Belgian, isn’t it?”
It was Gervasia’s turn to show surprise. “You’ve heard of Belgium?”
“Who could forget that beautiful coastline? My people came from Holland.” He tilted his head with a wistful, faraway air.
Qi snorted, literally snorted through her nose. Sometimes Dominic didn’t know what to make of the major’s mood shifts.
“That’s my boy! Pour on the charm,” said the NP. “Schmooze this bogus captain and make her talk about the Net link.”
“My family lived in Brussels,” Gervasia said, “before it sank in the English Sea. The floods took everything good in Euro. Only trash floats to the top.” She leaned back in her chair and rested her knee against the desk. Her downy face would have been perfect, except for the glum way she stuck out her lower lip.
Dominic slid closer. Dare he take her hand? She might be offended if he moved too fast. “I know how you feel, Gervasia. People like us, we appreciate the past.”
“My town is fifty meters underwater now,” she said.
“It’s a tragedy.” Dominic lowered his eyes with a grief so sincere, he almost believed it himself.
Gervasia lifted her proud chin and
nodded.
Very slightly, he leaned toward her, angling his face so his wide, sea-colored eyes caught the light. His hand crept along the desk and stopped just short of her fingertips. “Gervasia. Is that the name of a flower?”
Qi plunked herself between them and sat on his hand. When he jerked back, she grinned wickedly. Then she turned to Gervasia. “Captain, we saw divers with welding torches. What are you building?”
Gervasia’s exquisite mouth twisted out of shape. “Paradise in a pile of trash. It’s the council’s ego. They’re erecting a monument to their stupidity. I tell them we need to run, and they sink us so deep we’ll never move again. We’re a target. Dead in the water. Who listens to me?”
Dominic motioned Qi out of his way, but she ignored him and stayed put. He craned around her and spoke to Gervasia. “This council, they sound like amateurs.”
Gervasia threw her head back. “Our gallant governing body. You should run for office.”
“Get her to talk about the Net link,” the NP purred.
Dominic’s jaw muscle quivered. The NP was proving a supreme annoyance. He had to consciously relax and breathe through his nose. Then he squeezed Qi’s upper arm, hard enough to make his point, and glibly shoved her away.
“At least your broadcast can’t be traced, Gervasia. That signal disguise is ingenious. I have a communications background myself. Maybe you could show me the Net link.”
“Oh hallelujah, our marvelous Net link.” Gervasia tilted her chair back on two legs and rocked. “The council moves it every day, as if that makes any difference.”
At that moment, the lights switched off, and more alarming, the air exchangers shut down. Darkness. Total silence. Dominic felt a jolt of hard fear. He whispered, “Did life support just go off-line?” Before anyone could answer, the power sputtered back on.
“Brownout.” Gervasia shrugged. “Second one tonight.”
Dominic realized he had a death grip on Gervasia’s hand. Slowly, he relaxed his hold. “Sorry.”
She arched one eyebrow and smiled.
“She’s fallin’ for you, boy.” The NP snickered. “Ask for a private tour of the Net link.”
Qi stomped Dominic’s foot and shouldered between them again. “Gervasia, you must be running out of fuel. What does your council say about that?”
Gervasia rocked her chair forward, slumped over the desk and stuck out her lip. “They believe in manna from heaven.”
“A man from heaven?” Dominic frowned. “I don’t understand the phrase.”
She gave him a glum look. “It’s some old legend about breakfast cereal drifting down from the sky.”
Prote legends were always absurd. Dominic never wasted time with them. He poked Qi in the ribs and made her move out of his way again. Then he took Gervasia’s hand. She was clearly upset. She kept working her mouth back and forth in a chewing motion, which was not very attractive.
“Nick—is that your name?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Nick, the truth is, I don’t know what to do. We’re running out of everything. So many new people arrive every hour. We didn’t expect this. We don’t have a plan.”
“You could stop the broadcast,” he said on impulse.
She gazed at her cabin’s single window, its view blocked by underwater trash. “That’s not up to me.”
Dominic gently stroked the back of her hand and studied the shape of her mouth. Why did she have to move her lower lip that way? She should look in a mirror.
Abruptly, she gripped his forearm. “Help us, Nick.”
He blinked and tried to calculate an answer.
She leaned toward him. “You look strong. Maybe you could help the mining crews in the tunnels.”
Dominic almost laughed. That was one request he hadn’t expected.
“But you’re educated, too,” she went on. “I hear the way you talk. Do you know anything about medicine? Or engineering? Whatever you can do, we need you. So much is at stake. Find your place, Nick, and help us. Will you do it? Promise me.”
Gervasia’s lovely blue eyes searched his face, and he had no choice but to answer, “Yes. I will.”
She gave his forearm another firm squeeze and let go. Then she dropped her chin and gazed dejectedly at her computer screen. She was captain of a catastrophe, he thought to himself. As he glanced around her dusty, cluttered workstation, he realized she used to be master here, before the council locked down her controls and buried her. Now her seafaring skills were wasted, while this amateur council gave her impossible tasks. No wonder her beautiful lips twisted out of shape.
Just as he was reflecting on her plight, the NP said, “She’s ripe for a bribe.”
“Quiet,” he subvocalized. Gervasia’s situation absorbed him. He asked her, “Why don’t you leave?”
She grunted. “Desert the cause? Don’t think I haven’t fantasized.”
“You could go where your work is valued,” he said. “Any well-managed Com—”
“Com!” She glanced up sharply, and her beautiful eyebrows gathered in angry knots. “I’ve had enough of being valued.”
“Forgive me, I—”
Gervasia pounded the arm of her chair. “First Nord.Com. Then ZahlenBank. No Com slaver puts a price tag on me again!” Red blotches colored her cheeks as she swiveled her chair away.
Dominic bit his lip. Faux pas. He shouldn’t have mentioned a Com. Dealing with protes was trickier than he expected. He stood behind her chair, rested his hands on her shoulders, and with his short thick fingers, began to knead the muscles in her neck. She sniffed. He wondered what she meant by this “price tag” nonsense. With her skills, she could transfer to a prosperous Com and earn high wages. She didn’t have to settle for this. “Really, why do you stay?” he asked with genuine curiosity.
After a while, she said, “It’s my duty.”
“But you’re not bound by duty. Protes transfer all the time,” he said without thinking.
Gervasia whirled her chair so fast, she nearly threw Dominic off balance. “What did you call me?”
He stepped back and stammered something incoherent.
“I think you’d better leave,” she said.
Qi said, “Thank you, Captain. We’re going.” She grabbed Dominic’s and moved toward the passage.
The digital genie rumbled inside his eye, “Don’t forget the Net link! Ask her where it is!”
Dominic shook off Qi’s hand and turned back. “Forgive me, Captain. I honestly didn’t mean to insult you. I only meant—”
“Offer her a kickback,” the NP said.
The genie’s intrusions infuriated him. With some reluctance, he asked, “Can you at least tell me where I can find the Net link?”
Gervasia arched one eyebrow. “Why do you want the Net link?”
But before he could speak, she rose from her chair. “You look familiar. Have I seen your face on the Net?”
Qi jerked him out into the passage and shoved him ahead of her.
“Come back,” Gervasia called. “What’s your name?”
“Move!” Qi pushed him forward and followed on his heels. “You handled that beautifully. Preter-smooth negotiator, you are. I see why Gig wanted you on this mission.”
“The woman’s bribable,” the NP said. “Go back. She’s disgruntled. We can buy her.”
Qi raced ahead, while Dominic followed sullenly, and people in the corridor drew out of their way. They retraced their steps back to the stairwell, but instead of the ladder leading up, they found a squad of workers erecting a new partition wall.
“Sorry, this way’s closed,” one of the women said. “Floor fell through from above. Too much weight, I guess. You have to detour.”
“Which way?” Qi asked.
“Which way to the Net link?” said Dominic.
The woman was grappling with a heavy steel panel and didn’t have time to talk. One of the other workers grunted, “Go around.”
Their only choice was to follow the traffic in
the corridor. After wandering for several minutes, they found another ladder shaft, but it went down, not up.
Dominic stopped someone in the corridor and asked, “Which way up to the bridge?”
The man released Dominic’s hold on his arm and pointed down the ladder shaft. “This is the only way, man.”
When Qi started down the ladder, all Dominic could do was follow. In his eye, the NP complained that they should be climbing, not descending, the Net link would be on the highest deck.
“Enough!” Dominic subvocalized. “Be quiet and let me think.”
If anything, this ladder shaft was even more crowded. People stood on the rungs talking, and Dominic had to squeeze by. One landing down, they ducked through a bulkhead and wandered what seemed like half a kilometer through passages crammed full of protes. A left turn, two rights, another left, he tried to memorize the way, but he kept bumping his elbows on the narrow bulkhead openings. He dreaded losing track of that bathysphere.
“I trust you’re recording this route?” he subvocalized.
“Every millimeter,” said the voice in his eye, “but it’s useless without a reference point. Ask someone what deck this is.”
About then, Qi stopped to rest. Dominic slumped to the floor beside her and sneezed. Since he’d lost his scrap of silk, he had to wipe his nose with his filthy shirttail. Qi slid down beside him.
“Gervasia,” she mimicked. “What a lovely name. Hoo-hoo, we like Gervasia, don’t we?” Her mischievous mood had returned.
He sat up and smoothed his short stiff hair. “Are you jealous?”
“Jealous over a coin machine?” She shoved him playfully, but rather hard.
His scraped knee was bothering him, so he examined the black crusty scab. Somehow he’d knocked it loose chasing the major. The rags around his feet had begun to unravel, so he retied them. Then he checked his hands and arms for skin rash. No sign of it. Good.
“Ask what deck this is,” the NP said again.
“Major, where are we in the ship exactly?” he asked.
Qi shrugged. “It all looks the same to me.”
“That’s just splendid,” said the genie. “Ask someone else.”