“It’s amazing,” Joe said. “We don’t have anything like this where we come from.”
“I bet. Your masters keep all the good stuff for themselves, right? Behind that Wall.”
“They’re not our masters,” Kara retorted, staying on her feet. “London is a free city.”
“That’s not what they taught us in school,” Nate said. “We heard the rich people have all the power and they send their MetCo goons to beat the rest of you up whenever they feel like it.”
“Well, at least we don’t have some terrorist ordering us about,” Kara said, her colour rising. “John Cortez, high and mighty leader of the Mariners.”
Nate snorted. “He’s not the leader of the Mariners, President Simwe is. Cortez is just the captain of the Neptune.”
“So why does everyone round here act like he’s God or something?”
“Because they’re loyal to him. They respect him.”
“What about you?” Kara asked. “Don’t you respect him?”
Nate’s face reddened. “Of course. A posting to the Neptune is a great honour. But most of the crew have been with Cortez for years. He’s not like the other captains; he goes his own way and they admire that. Lots of Mariners support him, on this Ark and on others.”
“Well, they must be evil too, then,” Kara said. “Cos he’s a killer and he kidnaps kids.”
“That girl said you’d have food,” Joe said, trying to change the subject. “Was she lying?”
Nate got to his feet, unzipping a pouch on the wall and reaching inside. “I haven’t much. We’re calorie-controlled when we’re at sea, for weight.”
Kara laughed. “So is there a really skinny kid around here to balance you out?”
Joe kicked her ankle. “Don’t be mean.”
Nate ignored her, handing over a see-through packet filled with dry green flakes. Joe tore it open; the taste was intensely salty, melting on his tongue. “They’re good,” he said through green teeth.
Kara inspected the packet. “Seaweed. I knew it.” But she took a handful anyway.
“In the morning I’ll take you around the Ark,” Nate offered. “Answer any questions you might have about the Mariners or the Neptune or—”
“Don’t bother,” Kara said. “We’re not staying.”
“I have a question,” Joe said. “Why did Cane call you a mudfoot? You look like a Mariner to me.”
Nate sighed. “Because I was born on land. Whereas Cane, as she never gets tired of telling everyone, was born on the ocean, during a hurricane. Hence the name.”
“I thought it was because she’s so sugary sweet,” Kara muttered.
“So some Mariners do live on land?” Joe asked.
Nate nodded. “My family are from Frisco – it’s a city in California. It’s where the Mariners got started; it’s kind of our capital. My Great-aunt Sedna sits on the Mariner High Council, and Cane and some of her friends think she sent me here to spy on Cortez. Well, they don’t really think it, but they say it anyway to wind me up.”
“Isn’t California in America?” Joe asked. “My teacher told us the whole continent was just full of people shooting each other.”
“Most of it is,” Nate admitted. “Pretty much every state is at war with at least one other. But we stay out of that. Our border is secure and we’re totally self-sustaining.”
“So who cares what happens to everyone else, right?” Kara muttered.
“That’s what a lot of Mariners think,” Nate admitted. “They say we should put our own people first, only use our tech for the benefit of other Mariners. But then there are folks like my aunt who say we’re all part of the same world, the same ecosystem, we should be trying to help everyone. Unfortunately the first lot are in charge, at least for now.”
“So how did you end up out here?” Joe asked. “Did your aunt send you away?”
Nate’s face fell. “I’m on Sailabout. At fifteen every Mariner has to spend at least two years serving on
a randomly assigned Ark. It was just luck I got this one.”
“You sound thrilled,” Kara laughed.
“So you’re here on your own?” Joe asked. “No family or friends or anything?”
“Just me,” Nate said through gritted teeth. “And only twenty-two and a half months to go.”
There was a long silence, then Kara yawned. “Look, is there somewhere we can sleep? I just want to lie down and forget about all of this.”
Nate told Joe to stand then he tapped the panel and the armchairs began to bulge and mutate, the rubbery material creaking as it reformed into two flat-topped bunks.
“I’ll take the far one,” Nate said, handing them a blanket. “You two can share.”
Joe kicked off his shoes. “Thanks for looking after us,” he said. “I know you didn’t really want to.”
The Mariner boy smiled for the first time. “It’s OK. This must all be really weird for you.”
Joe grinned. “It is. But it’s kind of cool too. The Ark and the Disc and everything.”
“Joe, we got stolen by Mariners,” Kara said. “None of this is remotely cool.” She lay down beside him, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “But don’t worry,” she whispered. “We’ll find a way home, I promise.”
Joe lay on his back, her arm across his chest. He pulled Growly from his pocket, clutching the one-armed bear. He could hear voices outside, the rumble of the ship’s engines and beneath it all the sigh of the sea. Kara was right, Redeye had kidnapped them, and he’d killed Mr Colpeper. But then he remembered Elroy, who’d given his life to save Joe’s. He thought about everything they’d seen, the whale and the Ark, that sharp-tongued girl and this strange, awkward boy. He thought about going back to the Shanties, to the grime and the stink. And he knew it wasn’t so simple.
12
Keel Run
Joe was woken by the chatter of seabirds. The pod was bathed in blue, the sun baking on the domed roof. He could hear shouts outside and the plastic squeak of footsteps. He knew he should feel scared or helpless but somehow it was just too exciting. They were among the Mariners.
He got to his feet, bouncing on his heels. Nate had transformed his bed into a table and now he stood beside it, spooning cereal from a plastic bowl, his face lit by the glow from a rectangular object held in one hand. Writing moved on the face of the device, interspersed with pictures.
Joe came up behind him. “That’s a computer, isn’t it?”
Nate jerked upright, clasping the tablet to his chest. “It’s mine!”
Joe held up his hands. “I know. Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
Nate took a nervous breath. “What do you want?”
“Breakfast?” Joe asked. “If that’s OK.”
The boy waved a hand. “There’s Honey-os or Wheatie Krunch. We only have sea-milk; it’s made from algae proteins. Not as good as cow but better than soy.”
“I had milk at school once,” Joe said. “I don’t know the other things. Whatever you like.”
“Definitely Honey-o’s,” Nate said, shoving the box towards him.
Joe poured them out, watching as the young Mariner ran his fingers expertly across the glowing screen. “How does it work?”
Nate smiled apologetically. “I don’t think you’d understand.”
“Just because we’re poor doesn’t mean we’re stupid.” Kara sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. “I mean, it can’t be that difficult if you can operate it.”
Nate frowned, then he held up the tablet. “It’s mostly used for accessing information. The global superhighway fell apart a century ago, but the Neptune has its own databanks and the tablet links in wirelessly. With me so far?”
“No,” Kara admitted.
“It means you can learn stuff,” Nate said. “Say you had a project on whales. You could access biology, ecology, population numbers. It’s like a library.”
“We had one of those at school,” Joe said proudly. “It had twenty-three books.”
“
Well, this is like having a million books,” Nate said. “Plus there’s music and shows. My favourite’s Aquaboy. Want to watch?”
Kara shook her head, grabbing the cereal box. “We didn’t come here for stupid shows. Last night you said you’d show us around, so let’s get started.”
“You want to learn about the Ark?” Nate asked, surprised.
“Not really,” Kara said. “But if we’re going to escape I need to know what the options are.”
The Neptune was busy as they stepped from the dome, narrowly avoiding a squad of Mariners jogging in formation. The great ship rocked on the water, portholes reflecting the sunlight in random, flashing patterns. Joe listened for the engines but could hear nothing. The Ark was adrift.
From the direction of the harbour came the screech of metal and a spray of sparks. “Pavel must be patching up the Orca,” Nate said. “I wonder why they need her seaworthy again so soon.”
“I bet they’re going back to London,” Kara said. “They’re up to something, because of that map. We should spy on them and find out.”
“Spy on Redeye?” Nate asked in horror. “You’re crazy.”
Kara rolled her eyes. “And you’re a coward. Come on, let’s do your stupid tour.”
He started forward, gesturing at the domes surrounding them. “The big pod near the stern is the algae farm. That’s where we harvest nutrients for food. The Neptune is entirely self-sustaining; we could survive out here for years if we had to.”
“You don’t, though, right?” Kara asked worriedly.
“We’ll likely make landfall in the next couple of months,” Nate admitted. “There are sympathetic ports where we trade and take on supplies. But Cortez picks the away team, so you can forget that.”
They weaved between the domes to the edge of the Disc; there was no boundary or railing, just waves lapping at the artificial shore. “Over there are the fishing lines,” Nate said, indicating a bank of steel rods jutting over the side. “And that’s the gutting room, where the catch is cleaned and boned. There are only some fish we’re allowed to keep, cod and mackerel and a few others. The rest are thrown back. You know, in the Tech Age people ate so much that some species totally died out. The Mariners have been safeguarding them ever since, breeding and releasing.”
“So that’s what your people do all day?” Kara asked. “Get fish to have babies?”
“Conservation is one of our main objectives, yes,” Nate said defensively. “But we don’t just look after the oceans, we safeguard plants and insects and animals as well. Just like our symbol.”
Joe frowned. “I thought it was meant to be an Ark.”
“It is,” Nate said, inspecting the patch on his chest. “But, look, it’s the world too. The blue oceans and the green land. There’s an arboretum on the Hub that’s full of endangered plants, and back in Frisco we have zoos and sanctuaries filled with creatures from all around the world.”
“My teacher told us lots of them have gone ek… ekstinks since the waters went up,” Joe said.
“That’s true,” Nate agreed. “This has been the biggest extinction event since the dinosaurs.”
“You have dinosaurs?” Joe gaped.
Nate laughed. “I wish.”
Kara gave a deep sigh of frustration, gazing out to sea. “Oh, this is pointless. As far as I can see the only way we’re going to get off this floating freakshow is if the great Cortez agrees to it. And you won’t even take us to see him.”
“But I can’t,” Nate insisted. “I’m a first-year cadet. He’s the captain.”
Kara sneered. “You’re just scared.”
“So what if I am?” Nate hissed through gritted teeth. “Some people are worth being scared of. You know, I expected my Sailabout to be tough, I expected to work hard and prove myself as a Mariner. I didn’t expect to be surrounded by guys with guns, like, all the time. I didn’t expect to be on a crew that goes around sinking other ships. I’m serious – a week ago we caught this whaler and Cortez fired on it. Put a hole in it and watched it go down. That’s completely against council policy. I could report him just for—”
“Spoken like a true mudfoot,” a voice said, and they spun round. Cane stood watching them, her hands in the pockets of her uniform. Behind her hovered a blond boy the same age, rangy and blue-eyed, with patches of yellow fluff on his chin. Nate’s face drained of colour, but Cane just gestured at Kara and Joe.
“What are they doing here? I told you to hold them until my father was ready.”
Nate’s lip trembled. “I w-was just sh-showing them around.”
Cane rolled her eyes. “Do we really have to revisit the concept of me giving orders and you following them?”
“What if they’d tried to swim away?” the boy asked. “Oh, right, they’re mudfoots. They’d drown.”
“We can swim,” Kara retorted. “I bet Joe’s a better swimmer than either of you.”
The boy stepped closer. “How about I push him in and we find out?”
Kara reddened. “Try it.”
Cane held up her hands. “Wait, wait, wait. Bobby, didn’t you hear what she just said? She bet this little shrimp was a better swimmer than you, the five-time keel run champion. Now that is a bet I’d take.”
Bobby grinned. “Keel run. Good call.”
Nate shook his head. “No. Bad call. Bad, bad call.” He looked pleadingly at Kara. “The keel run is dangerous, you can lose your way. A shark could come. Arks attract sharks; it’s a well-known fact.”
“It’s a total myth,” Cane said. “We’ve all done it. Except this one, obviously. He was too scared.”
Kara faced her. “Whatever it is, Joe can do it. And if he wins you can take us to Cortez. Right away, no questions.”
Cane looked uncertain, then she nodded.
“And you can give Nate a break too,” Kara added. “Enough of this mudfoot stuff, he doesn’t need it.”
Nate looked at her in surprise. “Th-thank you.”
“And what if Bobby wins?” Cane asked. “What do you three have that we could possibly want?”
“I’ve got this bear,” Joe offered, pulling it from his pocket. “His name’s Growly.”
Nate peered closer. “Hey, that’s no bear; it’s a space pilot. He must be from the second reboot trilogy. Look, he’s got the left-side utility belt.”
Cane sneered. “I don’t care where it’s from. You’ll need to do better than some toy.”
Nate sighed. “Fine. If you win, I’ll do your gutting-room shifts for a week. Both of you.”
“Two weeks, or no deal.”
Nate hung his head. “Whatever.”
“So what is this keel run, anyway?” Kara asked. “Some kind of race?”
“You could say that.” Cane gestured to the ship in the centre of the Ark. “From here it looks like the Disc and the Hub are sealed up tight, doesn’t it? But that wouldn’t work. The Disc needs to move with the water, so there’s a channel running all the way round.”
“You want Joe to swim round the ship?” Kara asked. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Cane wagged her finger. “No, no. They go in the water here. They come up there.”
Kara’s mouth dropped open. “You want him to swim under the Ark?”
The girl grinned. “It’s not far, if he’s as good as you say. And it’s a straight line, all the way.”
“But what if he runs out of air?”
“Then it’s bad luck for him. Like I say, we’ve all done it. But if he’s scared…”
Joe eyed the distance to the Hub. He’d swum further countless times, with and without tanks. But that wasn’t the issue. He knew how easy it was to lose your way in the dark, how down became up, left became right, and before you knew it you were swimming in circles, gasping for breath.
“He’s not scared,” Kara was saying. “Joe’s not scared of—”
“I can talk for myself, you know,” he said, feeling a sudden rush of annoyance. “I’ve got a mouth.”
&nbs
p; Kara stopped. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to do it, of course you don’t have to.”
Joe frowned. If he backed out now these Mariners would laugh at him.
“I’ll do it,” he said, and jumped over the side.
He hit the surface with a splash, the cold jarring him. He trod water, looking up at their surprised faces. “So when do we start?”
Bobby laughed, peeling off his shirt and slipping into the water.
“You go on my signal,” Cane called down. “We’ll be right there when you come up.”
Bobby leant close, clutching the edge of the Disc. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he whispered. “I won’t let you drown. Just watch my back.”
Cane stuck two fingers into her mouth and whistled.
“Or you can watch mine,” Joe said, and ducked under.
He plunged down, shoving with his feet against the underside of the Disc. The salt stung his eyes but he was used to that, and at least the sea was clean. To either side he could make out the curve of the Ark, framed by shafts of daylight filtering through the water. It was like being in a massive round hall with no walls or floor, only a perfectly flat roof. He was awestruck again at the sheer size of this place, how many people it must take to run, all of them working together. Such a thing would be impossible in the Shanties, where everyone was out for themselves.
He levelled out, cutting wide strokes with his arms. He was aware of a dim shape behind him; Bobby was gaining already, his eyes open. Joe put on a burst of speed, rising until he was just inches from the rubbery blue ceiling. The surface was crusty with algae and barnacles.
Below him all was black, and he wondered how deep it went – a mile? Two? Anything could be lurking down there. Sharks, yes, and whales too. And he’d heard fishermen’s tales of worse things in the furthest fathoms, giant snakes and slimy squids that would wrap their tentacles round his body and drag him down, down in the inky cold…
He bit his lip hard. Those thoughts would do no good at all. He had to focus. He looked around, feeling a stab of fear. He thought he could see light up ahead but things were hazy; it was hard to be sure. Was he still swimming straight? His lungs were starting to burn and he kicked, the chill stiffening his limbs. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer.
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