Floodworld

by Tom Huddleston

  Redeye nodded. “We know your boy Joe was the last to see him alive. I want to know what was said between them. I thought it best to come to you first, as his guardian. There’ll be profit in it, if I like what I hear.”

  “You stay away from Joe,” Kara said, backing up. “If you so much as look at him, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” the Mariner snapped, his mouth tightening. “I’m not playing games, girl. Run again and I’ll hurt you. Now come here.”

  He lunged suddenly, grasping with long, bony fingers. But Kara was ready; she ducked and threw herself towards him shoulder first. The pale man was caught off guard, his fingers snatching at her collar. His foot swept out to trip her but Kara was already moving, crossing the platform in two bounds. She leaped over the edge into the water, his furious cry echoing in her ears.

  Joe stretched his arms in the sunlight blazing through the classroom window. He was lucky today; he actually had a desk to sit behind. He didn’t mind sharing with two other boys. It was better than crowding at the back with the big kids.

  The subject was technology, one of his favourites. Joe was among the few in his class to have actually seen a car, though the waterlogged tubs in the sunken suburbs had little in common with the gleaming machines in Miss Ella’s old clips.

  The teacher stood facing them now, her hair a frizzy red halo in the sunlight. “Who can tell me what a satellite is?” she asked, and Joe stuck his hand up. But Miss Ella nodded to a girl in the front.

  “My Uncle Samson says satellites are what falls through the roof if you say too many bad swears,” the girl beamed, and there was a ripple of laughter.

  Miss Ella smiled. “Your uncle’s partly right, a few have crash-landed in recent years. But I think the chances of one hitting you are pretty slim. You see, satellites are machines that orbit the Earth, high above our heads. Does anyone know why they might be up there?”

  As one they turned to look at the ceiling where an aged fan creaked pointlessly.

  “Well, back in the Tech Age, people used satellites for all sorts of things,” Miss Ella continued. “Keeping track of ships and aeroplanes, sending pictures and messages right around the world. And most of them are still up there, though one by one they’re all breaking down. Does anyone know why?”

  A boy behind Joe stuck up his hand. “No one goes to space any more. It’s too expensive.”

  The teacher nodded. “That’s right. Oil’s too scarce and chem fuel’s too unstable to use in planes or rocket ships. But the truth is, most of that old tech is worthless now anyway. There’s so much dust and static in the atmosphere that sending long-range signals is all but impossible. So even if someone could go up and fix the satellites, it’d be pointless.”

  “Will they ever?” Joe asked without raising his hand. “Will people go to space again?” The thought that he’d missed such an age of wonders made him indescribably sad.

  “Who knows?” Miss Ella said. “If we can start solving our problems down here, perhaps we can start sending people back up there. One of you might be the first to go. If you study really hard.”

  There was laughter, but Joe didn’t join in. He pictured himself strapped to the top of a great rocket blasting off into the dark. They’d seen it in a vid once and to Joe it had looked like the perfect place – no dirt, no noise, just the cold stars and the blue Earth.

  He gazed at the world map pinned above Miss Ella’s whiteboard. He would float over the continents, from sunken Europe and sun-baked Persia to the bustling valleys of the Himalayan Bloc. He’d soar across the Pacific until he reached America, where the flare of border wars would light up the night. Finally he’d touch down in Canada, and be welcomed with smiles and pancakes.

  “Hey –” one of his deskmates broke Joe’s reverie, pointing to the window – “isn’t that your whatsername?”

  A figure crouched on the outer ledge gesturing violently. Joe blushed as the room filled with sniggers.

  “Kara?” Miss Ella asked, crossing to the window. “What on earth are you doing?”

  Kara’s hand shook where it clutched the frame. “I need to get Joe. Right now.”

  He started forward but Miss Ella held him back. “What’s wrong with the front door?”

  “His people might be watching,” Kara hissed.

  “Whose people?” the teacher asked. “Are you in trouble with MetCo again? Tell me and I’ll—”

  “You can’t help with this,” Kara insisted. “Joe, come on. Climb up.”

  “No,” Miss Ella ordered, taking Kara’s wrist. “Joe needs to learn; he needs to be in school. And so do you.”

  Kara yanked her hand free. “First we need to not die. So let us go or they’ll hurt you too.”

  The teacher opened her mouth to protest, then she saw the conviction on Kara’s face and sighed, kneeling to help Joe up. He peered at the water twenty feet below, tucking his T-shirt into his shorts.

  “Kara, I’m not happy about this,” Miss Ella said, leaning out.

  Kara smiled grimly. “Neither am I,” she said, and jumped.

  6

  Night Dive

  They stayed in the water as long as they could, ducking through sunken windows and submerged rooms. In the time it took to swim home Kara had told Joe everything about her encounter with the Mariner. He was glad she’d got away, but still a bit embarrassed about being dragged out of school like that.

  They came to the footbridge opposite Osborne House, crouching beneath it with their eyes on the courtyard. Like a couple of trolls in the old story, Joe thought, as Shanty folk trip-trapped overhead. Except the real monster was somewhere out there hunting for them.

  “So you think this Redeye knows where we live?” He shivered, feeling the rustle of plastic and paper as he shoved his hands in his pockets. It wasn’t time for that, though, not yet.

  “We can’t take the risk,” Kara said. “We’ll wait till dark, then we’ve got to get that scanner. After that we’ll go to Colpeper; he’ll know what to do.”

  “You trust him?” Joe asked.

  Kara shook her head. “Not slightly. But if we pay him enough, he’ll help us.”

  The day waned. Joe saw Mr Shoji setting out his stall and the Pompadour tuning his guitar, the light turning gold, then violet, and finally seeping away altogether. But there was still no sign of the black-clad Mariner.

  As the moon rose they slipped out of hiding and into Osborne House. The stairwell was crowded but their little bathroom was silent and dark. Kara made straight for the pipe, plucking out the cloth and reaching inside. Her arm went deeper. Joe saw her eyes widen.

  “It’s not here,” she said, panicked. “It’s—”

  “Lost something?”

  They whipped round. A crimson glow pulsed in the shadows, illuminating a gaunt face darkly smiling. “I admire your determination. Waiting out there all this time.” The Mariner held up Kara’s scanner. “Your money’s safe. And you’ll have more if you do as I say.”

  “How did you get in?” Kara demanded. “The bolts were still on the grate.”

  He gestured to the tiny window. “Wasn’t easy. Had to get up to the roof and climb down. Don’t worry, I didn’t hurt that mad old bat. I did try her beans, though. Pretty good, once you get past the taste of urine.” Suddenly he turned, sticking his hand out. “You must be Joe. Kara’s told me all about you.”

  Joe reached out but Kara got there first, slapping Redeye’s hand away. “I told you to leave him alone.”

  With a snarl the Mariner sprang forward, taking her by the throat. “I was trying to be friendly,” he growled. “And you are being rude.”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” Joe said hurriedly. “Please don’t hurt her.”

  Redeye shoved Kara away, straightening his coat. “Talk then. And don’t lie. The red eye sees all.”

  He swept his hair aside and Joe let out a gasp. The Mariner’s left socket was a fleshy, tortured hole, ringed with shards of metal embedded into the skin. In the depths a cr
imson glow pulsed, and Joe heard the grinding of tiny gears.

  Was it true? he wondered fearfully. Could the eye have special powers? But no, the Mariner couldn’t know what was in his pocket; he’d have said something by now.

  “I’ll t-tell you,” he said, trembling. “I’ll t-tell you everything. It happened out on the Spur. I’d just c-come up when—”

  Kara squeezed his arm. “You were on the jetty when you first saw him, weren’t you?”

  She gave Joe a look so intense that he started nodding. “R-right. I was standing on the jetty and I heard the ski coming towards me…”

  Redeye listened keenly as the tale unfolded, clenching his fists as Joe described the pursuing MetCo gunboat, wincing as he learned of the jetski explosion. He looked up as Joe repeated the rider’s last words, frowning thoughtfully. “What do you think he meant? What was he sorry for?”

  “I don’t know,” Joe admitted. “Before I could ask him he dragged himself into the water. He went over the side, and sank all the way down.”

  Redeye nodded. “That’s good. I didn’t like the thought of him lying in a dry grave. Unless they went down for his body?”

  Joe shrugged. “It’s deep there. They’d have to send divers. Maybe they did, after we’d gone.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Redeye said, jumping to his feet and clapping his hands together. “Up, both of you. We’re going for a ride.”

  Kara bristled. “You said if Joe talked you’d let us go.”

  The Mariner gave a sideways smile. “Plans change.” He gestured to the vent. “Kara first, then me, then the boy. First sign of trouble and I’ll kill whichever’s closest. But I’ll leave the other one alive so you can spend the rest of your life thinking about the choice you made.”

  Joe bit his lip. He felt the plastic bag in his pocket and prayed he was doing the right thing.

  The night was deathly still as they emerged into the courtyard. Joe clung close to Kara, glancing up at the Mariner as he stalked alongside. He remembered a story Mr Shoji had told them once, a tale from his homeland about warriors in black who killed without a sound. What did he call them? Ninjas? Perhaps Redeye was one of those. Or maybe he was just acting that way to scare them.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “Will you tell us what happened to your eye?”

  Kara gave a gasp, but Redeye just smiled thinly. “I could tell you what happened to the last kid who asked that question.”

  By the pier a boy sat on his haunches, keeping watch over a battered single-stroke jetski. Redeye touched wrists and sent the boy off, then he lifted Joe on to the seat with strong hands, climbing on behind him. He jerked a thumb and Kara clambered on the back, clinging to Redeye’s coat. He tapped in a four-digit code and kicked the throttle.

  They sped north through the sleeping Shanties, weaving between the dark buildings. Joe could see floodlights on the water as they passed the MetCo training grounds on Hampstead Hill, the only dry land for thirty miles outside the Wall. Redeye banked west as they approached the perimeter, where the towers gave way to open sea. Out here lived the poorest of the poor in a vast impossible puzzle of shifting rafts lashed together with rope. Often these were the same rafts they had poled from the mainland, the only homes these people had. Joe could see a group of them now huddled round a fire on a gently rocking platform singing softly. It felt like the end of the world.

  Redeye gunned the throttle and the ski picked up speed. They were the only thing moving on the water tonight, save for the distant blue lights of a MetCo patrol boat. The wind made Joe’s eyes sting but inside he felt a rising exhilaration, mingling with his fear to form a new feeling like nothing he’d ever known. He felt alive and free, and trapped and terrified all at the same time.

  “Your friend,” he asked. “The one who died. Was he a good person?”

  Redeye seemed surprised. “He was his father’s son. If you knew his father, you’d know that means something.”

  “Was his name Wellington?” Joe scanned the Mariner’s face for any sign of recognition.

  “His name was Elroy. Why did you think it was Wellington?”

  Joe shrugged. “I thought you said it was. Never mind.”

  He saw a black hulk on the horizon and knew they were getting close. A tanker heaved past the tip of the Spur, running lights winking. Redeye eased down, curving into the Cut. Joe scanned the shadows, looking for anything he recognised. Then a door swung open and lamplight filtered out, followed by faint music and drunken laughter.

  “There,” he said. “Behind the pub. That’s where he went in.”

  They drew alongside the shattered jetty, the timbers scorched from yesterday’s impact. The water was like ink dotted with specks of warped, reflected light. Redeye lifted Joe on to the dock and Kara followed, shivering. “Show me where it happened,” the Mariner said.

  Joe pointed. “The ski hit that post and he landed here. You can still see the blood.”

  Redeye knelt, scraping the blackened wood. He put his finger in his mouth and nodded, then he got to his feet and crossed the platform. “So he went into the water here?”

  Joe nodded. “Didn’t float or anything. Straight down.”

  Redeye closed his eyes, observing a moment’s silence. Then he looked at Joe. “I wonder, how hard would it be to find his body?”

  Joe shook his head. “Not that hard, if you know what you’re doing. Have you done much diving for… Oh.”

  The Mariner was smiling crookedly.

  “You must be joking,” Kara said. “It’s dark; you can’t send him down there.”

  Redeye pulled out Joe’s torch, turning the crank. “I think of everything.”

  “But you’re a Mariner,” Kara protested. “Shouldn’t you be able to do this sort of thing yourself?”

  “I don’t know the terrain like he does,” Redeye said. “I’ve asked around; they say Joe is the best Beef in the business.”

  “But he wanted to go back to the ocean,” Joe said. “Why bring him up again?”

  Redeye frowned, the crimson glow lighting his face. “Because he’s got something I need. Something important. Let’s just say the world depends on it.”

  Joe looked up and a cold certainty came over him. Redeye was nothing like his friend; he wouldn’t have swerved to save Joe’s life. And whether or not he got what he wanted the chances were slim that they’d get out of this alive. There was only one thing for it.

  “Fine, I’ll go,” he said, peeling off his shirt. “I’ll find him.”

  He took a deep breath and jumped, and the filthy water swallowed him.

  Kara ran to the edge, gazing into the black depths. “What did you mean just now?” she asked. “Why does the world depend on it?”

  Redeye shook his head. “That’s for you to find out. And believe me, you will.”

  Kara’s eyes narrowed. “That business yesterday was just the start, wasn’t it? You’re planning something, you and that creep Cortez. I bet you’re going to blow up a ship or kill the prime minister or something. You Mariners are all the same.”

  Redeye sighed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Most Mariners are just hard-working people living ordinary lives, whether on land or at sea. They couldn’t care less what happens to some mangy mudfoots half a world away. But me and Cortez, we’re different.”

  Kara raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying you care about the Shanties?”

  “Precisely.” Redeye turned away. “We care so much we’re willing to kill for it.”

  Kara heard a sound, just a ripple in the water. A white blur rose from the black, ducking behind a pile of twisted timbers. “I see him!” she cried, pointing the opposite way.

  Redeye hurried over. “There,” Kara said as Joe slipped out of hiding behind them. “Past that skiff. He’s got something.”

  Redeye leant out, squinting hard. “I don’t see anything. Are you—”

  Joe sprang forward, Kara stepped in and they both gave a shove. Redeye hit
the water with a cry, limbs thrashing, his long coat tangling round his body. Kara ran for the jetski, grabbing her box and preparing to bolt. But Joe pushed her back, leaping on to the ski and reaching for the controls.

  “What are you doing?” Kara yelled. “You don’t know how to drive it; you need a code.”

  Joe tapped the keypad and the engine rattled into life. “I watched him. Come on.”

  Kara jumped on to the pillion seat as Redeye was climbing from the water, his coat sopping. Joe reached for the accelerator. The engine rumbled but the jetski barely moved, creeping away from the pier at walking pace. He kicked again and they picked up speed, but not enough.

  “Gears!” he shouted. “Where are the gears?”

  Kara looked back, seeing Redeye lurching along the jetty into the shadow of the Last Gasp. They rattled slowly into the Cut, following the walkway. Joe stabbed frantically at the controls, to no avail. They began to drift closer, carried by the current.

  Redeye re-emerged, a dark shape among deeper shadows. He ran to the edge.

  “He’s going to jump,” Kara told Joe. “You have to do something.”

  Joe grabbed the handlebar, twisting in frustration. The jetski shot forward.

  Kara was almost thrown back into the water but she grabbed Joe and clung on as they thundered towards the low walkway. He tried to steer clear but they were moving too fast.

  “I don’t know how to make it stop!” he cried. “Duck!”

  Kara threw herself down as they shot beneath with inches to spare. She caught a glimpse of Redeye’s startled face as they rocketed into the echoing darkness. Then she heard feet pounding on the planks overhead. “Joe, floor it! He’s going to—”

  Redeye sprang from the platform, spanning six feet of water in a single open-legged bound. He slammed into the moving jetski, grabbing Kara with both hands. But his grip was weak and he slid back towards the churning water, scrabbling on the wet plastic.

  “Shake him off,” Kara yelled and Joe banked left, weaving through a nest of pilings. Redeye was barely hanging on, water filling his eyes and his mouth. But with a superhuman effort he managed to pull himself up, both hands on the back of the ski.