Floodworld

by Tom Huddleston

  She looked down. If the sky was black the sea was even blacker, a darkness so absolute it seemed to shrivel something inside her. With an effort of will she tore her eyes away. She had to be strong, keep her head up, keep—

  “Hey,” a voice said suddenly, clear and crisp in the darkness. “What are you…?” There was a flash and a thud, and the cage shook. Kara looked up.

  A man lay on the steel roof, staring blankly. Blood dripped from the tip of his nose and spiralled in the water. Then he was dragged aside and another face peered through, brown eyes shining with exhilaration and terror. “Hang on,” Nate whispered. “We’re getting you out.”

  He brandished a pair of bolt cutters, biting through the padlock. The hatch swung open and he reached in, hands shaking. Kara scrambled free, falling to her knees on the edge of the Disc. For a moment the world drifted away.

  Then a soft head buried itself in the hollow of her neck, hands clinging to her wet skin. “I’m so sorry,” Joe whimpered. “I should’ve listened to you.”

  She found the strength to reach up and stroke his back. “Hush. It’ll take a lot more than this to break us up, right?”

  Over his shoulder she could see the unconscious Mariner sprawled on his back. “Is he…?”

  “Just out cold,” Nate said, holding up a stun-stick. “But we should split before someone comes.”

  Kara sighed. “Redeye took the Orca. We’re stuck here.”

  Nate put an arm round her waist, lifting her to her feet. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  The Ark spun and for a moment Kara thought she was going to fall. But Nate held her tight as they staggered towards the Hub, weaving between the sleeping domes.

  “I’m sorry we were so long,” he said. “I took a bit of convincing.”

  “Cortez was going to let you die in there,” Joe explained. “But then Nate stole the guard’s stunner and I memorised the code for the cell, just like I did with the jetski, remember? And we escaped.”

  They reached the access bridge, the hatch in the side of the Hub sliding open. They crossed the hangar and stepped into the elevator. Kara saw her face reflected in the glass walls, repeated to infinity. Her hair was filthy, her eyes hollow, her lip split. She looked like herself again.

  Nate hit a button and to her surprise the lift began to descend. For a moment all was silent, just the humming of cogs as they dropped into the belly of the ship. Then the doors slid wide and a blast of hot air rolled in. The mirrors clouded, blurring her reflection.

  Nate stepped out cautiously. They were in the base of a massive chamber, steel walls stretching up and out of sight. Machines rose from the mist, fed by rubberised cables snaking out of the gloom. The air was thick with moisture and greasy electricity.

  “We’re lucky the Ark’s powered down,” he said. “When the turbine’s running you can’t come near the engine room without ear defenders. It’s impressive, though. It’s a shame you missed it.”

  “We’ll live,” Kara told him.

  They moved in single file along a grated walkway between two giant machine hulks. A blue flash lit the hangar, the hairs on Kara’s arms prickling. Overhead was the propeller shaft, a horizontal steel cylinder thicker than her torso and glistening with droplets. It emerged from the largest of the turbines, disappearing into the stern-side wall. They ducked beneath it, through a narrow doorway into a second, smaller chamber.

  To the left and right were circular hatches, each as high as a man. Nate crossed to the nearest one, tapping a panel on the wall. A light switched from red to green and the hatch swung open. Through it Kara could see a horizontal access tube leading to an enclosed area with two rows of seats.

  “That looks like a car,” Joe said, confused. “Why would you need a car down here?”

  “It’s a submersible. There are two of them, see?” Nate indicated the hatch on the far side. “They’re called Marlin and Dory. Don’t ask me why.” He slipped his pack off his shoulders, tossing it into the tube. “I managed to pinch some fresh water and snacks from the refectory; should keep us going for a couple of days.”

  Kara whistled. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you? Now let’s get out of here before—”

  “Before someone catches you?” a voice said, and they spun round.

  Cane stepped through the doorway, a pistol in one hand and a radio transmitter in the other. Her eyes had a gloating gleam. “I’ve called my father. He’s on his way, so don’t try anything.”

  “H-how did you find us?” Nate stammered. “I was really careful!”

  Cane laughed. “With Redeye off the Ark I’m security chief again. I programmed an alert if certain sensors were triggered, including the one on that door. I honestly didn’t think you’d have the guts to try it.”

  “Cortez was going to let Kara die,” Joe protested.

  “Well, maybe she deserves it,” Cane spat. “She won’t be the last before all this is over. My father’s going to save the world; if a few mudfoots have to die, it’ll be worth it.”

  “Have you ever actually seen anyone die?” Kara asked. “It’s not like you think.”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child!” Cane said, gesturing with the gun. “I’m John Cortez’s daughter.”

  “I bet his hands don’t shake like that when he threatens someone,” Kara sneered. Then she jerked her head up. “Hey, what’s that?”

  It was a clumsy diversion, but it worked. Cane only glanced back momentarily but it was all Kara needed – she threw herself at the girl, ducking and slamming into Cane’s side before she could lower the pistol. The gun roared, a pellet striking the wall in a flash of sparks. Nate grabbed Joe, pulling him back into the access tube.

  Kara yanked Cane towards her, driving her knee into the girl’s stomach. Cane staggered back, then she pulled herself up, glaring. For a moment Kara saw the family resemblance – there was such rage in her eyes, such boiling hatred.

  “Mudfoot scum,” she snarled. Then she charged, fists swinging. Kara ducked and the first lunge swept overhead. But the next made contact, the gun in Cane’s hand adding weight to the blow. Kara hit the wall, the breath knocked from her. Cane swung her pistol but Kara recovered quickly; she chopped down and the weapon clattered to the floor. Reaching up, she grabbed Cane by the throat.

  “Kara, come on,” Nate called from the hatchway. “Drop her and let’s go.”

  But Kara couldn’t do it; she kept squeezing as hard as she could. “Your father’s a villain,” she hissed. “Whatever he’s planning, it needs to stop.”

  “No.” Cane clawed desperately, her face turning crimson. “He’s … he’s…”

  “Kara, put her down!”

  Cortez strode through the narrow doorway, his eyes blazing. Kara saw others at his back, a pair of burly Mariners with rifles drawn. She opened her hand and Cane dropped, wheezing.

  “Daughter, to me,” Cortez said, taking Cane’s hand as she stumbled towards him. He raised a slender pistol, taking aim at Kara. “I hope everyone in the Shanties isn’t as troublesome as you.”

  “Most of us are worse,” Kara said, her back pressed to the wall. There was nowhere to run even if she’d wanted to; the hatch was too far away and so was the rear door. Cortez cocked his pistol.

  Then with a strangled screech Nate came leaping from the hatchway, a red cylinder clutched in his hands. He thumbed a switch and white foam gushed out, drenching Cortez and his henchmen. “Run!” he shouted and Kara sprinted for the hatch, tumbling inside.

  Cortez fired blindly, pellets ricocheting off the housing. He cried out in fury as Joe heaved the hatch shut and Nate spun the wheel, sealing them inside. Projectiles thudded into the steel.

  “Um, wow,” Kara said. “Thanks.”

  Nate dropped the fire extinguisher with a clang, just missing his own foot. His eyes were wide, his hands trembling. “I really don’t know what came over me.”

  He retreated towards the submersible, pushing Joe ahead of him. “Get in the back. Kara
, take the navigator’s chair.” He slid into the pilot’s seat, facing a huge control panel crowded with computer interfaces and pressure gauges. “Wow. That is a lot of buttons.”

  “Can you drive it?” Kara asked, belting herself in beside him.

  “I had a Stingray 2000 back in Frisco,” Nate said. “But that was just a learner. This one’s a bit more complicated.”

  He flicked a switch and a panel in the side slid shut with a hiss of compressed air. “Good start,” he said, taking hold of the twin-handled steering bar. “Now if I just push this…”

  Motors whined but the sub didn’t move. The portholes were dark and the padded walls seemed to close in. Through the sealed hatch Kara could hear raised voices and the whine of a cutting torch.

  “Where’s the docking release?” Nate said, fear rising in his voice.

  “How about that one?” Kara asked, pointing to a large red button that was blinking angrily. “It looks like it wants to be pushed.”

  “I don’t know,” Nate said. “Red sometimes means—”

  She pressed it anyway, and the sub dropped.

  16

  The Seaweed Forest

  Joe’s stomach lurched into his mouth as the submersible plummeted nose first. Through the curved glass windscreen he could see nothing, only blackness. But he could imagine the ocean floor rushing towards them; they wouldn’t see it until they smashed into it. He pulled Growly from his pocket, clutching the one-armed bear as tightly as he could.

  “Prop controls, prop controls,” Nate muttered, his knuckles white on the steering bar. Motors ground but nothing caught; they were still dropping.

  Kara clutched his arm. “You need to do something.”

  “I’m trying!” he screamed.

  Joe peered through the porthole beside him, twisting to look above and behind them. He thought he could make out a faint shape circled by lights. Then it was swallowed by the darkness.

  “What does this do?” Kara asked and light beams pierced the blackness. Motes of algae rushed by like rain.

  “How did you do that?” Nate demanded.

  “It’s got a little picture of a light on it, see? And, here, does that look like a propeller to you?”

  Nate peered down. “Maybe. But I don’t want to hit the wrong—”

  “You should push it,” Joe told them. “You should push it now.”

  The black was turning to grey up ahead, the headlamps illuminating a landscape of rippled dunes rushing towards them at incredible speed. Nate let out a strangled cry, hitting the button. Joe felt the sub vibrate, the motor sputtering into life. Then the propeller caught, kicking them forward.

  Nate tugged on the steering bar and the sub levelled out just inches from the sandy surface, speeding like a torpedo over the watery desert. Joe let out a whoop as gravity slammed him back in his seat.

  “Maybe I should drive,” Kara told Nate. “I can’t be any worse than you.”

  “I’m getting the hang of it,” he protested. “It’s like riding a bike.”

  “Since when do Mariners ride bikes?” Kara asked. “Hey, look out!”

  He twisted the wheel, banking round an angular spire of rock.

  “No proximity warning,” he said shakily. “The sonar must be on the blink. Though that might be a good thing; at least they can’t trace our pings.”

  “Our what?” Kara asked.

  “Submarines navigate by sound waves. The Kraken could track them.”

  “So we’re blind?” Joe put in.

  “Not completely. We’ll just have to stay low and slow. Keep our eyes peeled and hope we don’t crash into anything.”

  “Great,” Kara said. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Around them the rolling expanse of shallow dunes was broken by patterns of dark stone. Joe saw schools of fish darting into the light, their silver scales flashing. Many-legged creatures scattered for cover, and in the distance he saw a huddle of straight-sided rocks that looked almost man-made. Could this be the remains of a sunken town, a city rich in salvage? No, they were too far out; this must always have been ocean.

  Suddenly something slammed against the windscreen, leaving a trail of brown slime. Nate jerked back on the throttle as a shape loomed towards them: a slender rope weaving in the current and another beyond it. The sub brushed past and Joe heard slippery fronds scraping the side.

  “Just what we need,” Nate said bitterly. In the twin beams they could see an entire forest of undulating wrack, the stems as tall as ships’ masts. “Hang on, I’ll bring us round.”

  “Can’t we go through?” Kara asked. “They’re just plants.”

  “They’ll muddy up the screen. Or wrap round the propeller. I don’t fancy going out to unclog it, do you?”

  The sub turned, trunks thudding against the hull. “You really are getting better, aren’t you?” Kara asked as they broke free of the kelp. “I take it all b—”

  “What’s that?” Joe asked, pointing. “Is it a light?”

  There was a glow up ahead, drifting down towards them.

  “Some deep-sea fish are bioluminescent,” Nate said. “But I don’t know if…”

  There was a sudden spark and Nate drew back, shaking his head. “Oh no,” he said, twisting the wheel as hard as he could. “Oh no, no. Hold tight.”

  There was a sudden, terrible noise and white light flooded the cabin. The sub tipped violently. Clouds of sand scoured the starboard portholes, slamming them back into the forest of weeds. A siren sounded and red lights began to flash across the console.

  “What’s happening?” Kara asked as Nate fought for control.

  “He’s found us,” he said, slamming the steering bar forward. The motors whined as they picked up speed. “Cortez must have taken the second sub. That was a torpedo blast.”

  Through the rear porthole Joe could see the lights turning in pursuit. On the control panel in front of Kara a metal grille coughed into life. “Attention, Marlin.” Cortez’s voice rattled from the speakers. “This is the Dory. Cut your engines or I’ll fire again, and this time it won’t be a warning.”

  Kara jabbed at the comms button. “Leave us alone!”

  “You know I can’t do that. What’s happening is bigger than you, Kara. It’s bigger than all of us. So power down or I’ll have no choice.”

  Nate kept his eyes forward, the engine straining as they rocketed into the gloom. Joe saw steep bluffs rising on either side, a stone canyon closing them in. “Can we outrun him?”

  Nate shook his head. “Cortez is one of the best pilots in the fleet. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “Hide, then,” Kara suggested. “Find a cave, turn off the lights and lie low.”

  “D’you know how lucky we’d be to find a cave big enough to steer into? No, we need—”

  Light rippled through the cabin as a second torpedo tore into the canyon wall above. Rocks tumbled, slamming into the hull, followed by a rain of rattling pebbles.

  “I warned you,” Cortez said, his voice backed by a low, insistent chime.

  Nate’s eyes lit up. “Do you hear that?”

  Kara was confused. “Hear what?”

  He grabbed her hand. “I’ve got an idea. But it’s risky. Like, really risky.”

  “Do it.”

  “We could all be killed.”

  “I trust you. Do it.”

  Nate wrenched the wheel and the engine protested, motors screaming as the sub struggled to turn without losing pace. “Back home,” he said through gritted teeth, “they used to call this game chicken.”

  The sub completed its arc and he slammed on the throttle. Up ahead Joe could see the lights of the Dory, closing in fast. Nate angled towards it, revving the engine.

  “What are you doing?” Cortez demanded. “I told you: I won’t hesitate to fire.”

  “Do we have torpedoes too?” Kara asked, pressing buttons at random. “Can we shoot back?”

  Nate grabbed her hand. “One of those is probably the ejector. You wouldn’t get f
ar without a pilot.”

  Something shot past the windscreen and they heard another explosion behind them. Kara hit the comms. “You missed!” she crowed, shielding her eyes as the lights ahead grew brighter, and still brighter. Joe braced himself. For the briefest moment he saw Cortez’s face through two panes of glass, eyes glaring as they closed the gap.

  Then the collision came, hard and jarring. The subs scraped together, metal grinding on metal. Kara was thrown from her seat but Nate kept hold of the wheel, steadying himself. He reached up, tapping buttons as fast as he could. The sub was plunged into darkness.

  “Now we just have to hope we don’t run into the sides.”

  Beams of white light strobed across the starboard portholes as the Dory banked behind them. Joe saw the canyon wall looming closer. “Go left!” he shouted, and Nate obeyed.

  “Clever trick.” Cortez’s voice rattled through the speaker. “But I can still see you.”

  The canyon was lower now, the rippled sand rising to meet them.

  “You said we couldn’t outrun him,” said Kara.

  “We don’t have to,” Nate told her as something struck the windscreen, screeching along the side. This time he didn’t stop but leant hard on the throttle, pressing on into the forest of weeds. The darkness deepened and Joe sank into his seat, the din of countless impacts clattering around him. Then Nate cut the power and they were adrift. The submersible slid smoothly through the tangle of trunks. Gradually they lost momentum, gliding down until they bumped on to the ocean bed.

  “That ought to do it,” he said, and mopped his brow.

  “Won’t he follow us?” Kara asked. Through the starboard porthole they could see the lamps of Cortez’s sub cutting razor-fine shafts through the wrack.

  “He can’t,” Nate explained. “Cortez must not have recharged the Dory after he took her out two nights ago. That was a low power alarm; in a few minutes he’ll be forced to the surface and we’ll make a run for it.”