Neither woman needed the name to be spoken.
It was that period in the evening when the distant sun painted everything gold. The Glacier was scheduled to set sail for Crete in an hour when Elena stepped off the gangplank. She wore a simple black dress and fashionable heels as she pulled her suitcase along the concrete pier. She was dressed for mourning, but that wasn’t how she felt.
Contessa was right. It was better to be alone — than watching the days float by from an empty house, than never knowing what could have been, than sharing a life with a violent man. That’s what she told Giorgos before making her exit. As she walked across the pier, away from him, she felt there was still so much life to live.
“I’ll just be five minutes!” Diya shouted at the security guards before running down the gangplank. “Contessa! Wait!”
The singer was halfway across the pier when she turned around. The wind tossed the hair about her face as she stood in the spotlight cast by the dying sun, her shadow stretching along the concrete behind her. One hand clutched an oversized suitcase that held almost everything she owned.
“Where are you going?” Diya asked when she caught up to her. News had travelled quickly about Contessa’s sudden departure. Throngs of staff and crew crowded along the edge of the bow above. They waved their hands and called her name.
“I’m going to find another home.” She smiled as tears formed in her eyes. “Maybe even back to Minnesota for a while.”
“Why?”
“Giorgos will be a part of my life as long as I stay here. He’s searching for me as we speak.” She looked up at the steel behemoth that towered above them. It felt surreal to be walking away from this place she had called home for so long. “I’m ready. Elena was right. There’s more life to be lived. I have so many mistakes to make still, but I won’t make the same ones.”
The two women wrapped their arms around each other. “Thank you, Diya. You gave me one drop of your strength, and it was enough.”
The city of Limassol was a blanket of twinkling lights as the Glacier drifted away thirty minutes later. Giorgos was locked in his cabin, alone. His humourless face was streaked with tears as his mind replayed every scenario of what he could have done differently to have avoided this outcome. He never imagined having to face consequences for his actions. Had he known he’d lose the greatest thing in his life, he would never have taken the risk. He had wanted to follow Elena earlier, to make a grand gesture of his love, but he couldn’t do that. He was deck commander. The ship needed him. The only thing that had brought him comfort was knowing there was still a woman on board he could turn to. Now he’d lost her, too.
The island of Cyprus shrank from his window. He imagined what Elena and Contessa were doing at that moment, on that island, left behind, and he shuddered with regret.
He was interrupted by a knock. “Hold on,” he shouted in his deepest voice. He wiped the tears from his face and glanced in the mirror before opening the cabin door.
Standing there in the carpeted hallway of the commanders’ quarters was a round woman in a grey uniform and pink apron. He looked at the golden badge pinned on her bosom. She was Rosa from the Philippines.
“Room service,” she said cheerfully. He had forgotten that some of the cabin-service crew had access to this elite wing of A Deck.
“Room service? I didn’t order anything.”
“Yes, you did. This is for you, deck commander Giorgos.” She gave him a wide smile and placed the cardboard box in his hands. He didn’t know what else to do but to accept it.
Once the door was shut, he opened the box. The square cake was encased in a firm shell of white frosting. Flakes of gold covered the sides. Hardened swirls of caramel sat in abstract shapes in one corner.
He didn’t notice any of this. All he saw was the message written on the surface of the cake in elegant, looping letters.
Cheaters & Beaters Are the Weakest of Men
A little paper card was attached to the box. He shook as he read the message inside.
Love, The Powerless
The suite that belonged to Alexis Kourakis had been filled with security guards and officers since the previous night. They scoured every inch of every room to find clues as to who would be bold enough to target the hotel commander’s family in such a violent way.
“It was those damn rebels!” Kostas shouted. “This time they’ve gone too far.” Nikos had never seen him so enraged. The man’s entire body vibrated like an engine as he paced across the carpet of the crime scene.
Little Kristo, normally impossible to shut up, sat still in a chair looking vacant and stunned. “I didn’t see anything” was all he said when Nikos asked him what had happened. Something about the boy’s answer wasn’t quite right. It sounded rehearsed.
It was clear Alexis was deeply disturbed. Her bedroom had borne the brunt of the damage. “This feels personal,” she said, combing through the shreds of clothing scattered on the floor. Nikos couldn’t disagree as he picked up the framed portrait that had been used to shatter the mirror.
Now that the Kourakis family had been relocated to a different suite guarded around the clock by Nikos’s men, cabin 1450 on Riviera Deck was peaceful again. The island of Cyprus disappeared in the distance. Nikos sat on the edge of Alexis’s bed, which had been stripped of its sheets, and stared at his reflection in the jagged fragments that remained of the mirror. His face appeared even more serious than usual. His eyes were bloodshot. A darkening layer of stubble ran along his jaw.
He looked down at the little metal stud in his hand. It was round and black, just like the one Sebastien wore in his left ear. He knew it was the same one as soon as his finger touched its smooth, cold surface. It had been embedded in the fibres of the wool carpet underneath the sofa.
Kostas was right. Sebastien had gone too far this time. Nikos couldn’t rationalize what Sebastien could have been thinking, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to betray him.
You really are my weakness, he thought to himself. My Achilles heel.
The mood that night in the lower decks was electric. The second phase of their response to Kostas’s morality code was a success.
The once-untouchable deck commander had fallen from his pedestal. Giorgos had been seen striding through the corridors earlier that evening, frantically searching for his mistress, a panicked look on his face. It was the most emotion they’d ever witnessed from him.
Shortly afterward, dozens of photos and videos were leaked online to every email address and social media account in the employee directory. They exposed officers in various compromising positions: creeping in and out of brothels in Mykonos, getting extra friendly with women who weren’t their wives, being invited into guest cabins very late at night. A battalion of staff and crew armed with cameras had spent the last four days documenting every possible offence committed against sexual morality by the ship’s ruling class of officers.
To top it off, the video footage of the protest against Dominic’s eviction was posted in numerous online forums, sharing the Glacier’s corruption with the world beyond the sea.
A celebration was underway in the crew bar while many officers braced themselves for the repercussions. The hypocrisy was undeniable, though nobody could find anything incriminating against the prime target, Kostas Kourakis.
In Sebastien and Ilya’s cabin on B Deck, the leaders of The Powerless felt less victorious. They knew the fight was far from over.
“This attack on Kostas’s family worries me,” Diya said. She sat on the edge of the desk, her hands clutched around a steaming mug. “That wasn’t part of the plan. They’re innocent.”
“Maybe it had nothing to do with us,” Ilya grunted as he lifted a set of dumbbells in the corner. “It could have been a random robbery.”
“Over two thousand guests on board and someone randomly breaks into that exact cabin?” Diya took a sip of her tea. “No way. This has The Powerless written all over it. And we should be concerned. What if we’ve started
something we can’t control?”
“What did Nikos have to say?” Ilya looked at the silent Sebastien as he curled and uncurled his arms. “Your boy toy must know something.”
The mention of Nikos’s name stung. “I haven’t seen him since it happened.”
“Maybe it was one of them,” Diya said. “One of the malákas. They could be trying to pin the blame on us.”
“You’re right,” Ilya said. “They have access to all the cabins. Maybe they’re trying to pour gasoline on the fire.”
“It was me.” Sebastien’s eyes darted between them. They didn’t say a word as the confession hung in the air. Ilya dropped the dumbbells to the floor. “I need to tell you both something,” he continued, standing up from the bottom bunk and grabbing his hair in his hands. “You’re not going to be happy.”
“What is it?” Diya and Ilya said in near-perfect unison.
“Kostas is my father.”
The three friends stared at each other from different corners of the little cabin. Sebastien took a long breath and continued. “I’d never met him until I came on board the Glacier. He abandoned my mother when she was carrying me. I don’t know why he left. All I know is my mother met him in Singapore and boarded the cargo ship he worked on back then. She claims they fell in love and that he promised to take her to France. They didn’t make it. He left us in Québec.”
Sebastien paced around the cabin in tiny clockwise loops. His tone was manic. He felt his heart thudding against his ribs like a hammer on piano keys.
“Is this her?” Diya picked up the framed photograph that stood on the desk. Ruby’s eyes were alive behind the glass.
Sebastien nodded.
“She looks fierce.”
“It doesn’t seem right, though,” he went on. “I used to assume he got scared off by the pregnancy, so he ran off like a coward. It happens all the time, right? But the more I think about it, the less sense it makes.”
“Why are you really here, then?” Ilya’s expression was a hybrid of concern and disillusionment.
“I needed to meet him.” He stopped pacing and stood before them as though testifying in front of a jury. “My mother died a few months ago. I blamed him. I blamed him for everything we had to go through. I needed to find out why he did what he did. I wanted revenge.”
“So this entire rebellion isn’t about us?” Diya asked. “It’s about revenge?”
“No,” Sebastien said, frantically grasping for how to explain himself. “I didn’t know what he would be like, but I never imagined it to be this bad. He’s trying to strip us of the power we have over our lives, just like he did to me and my mother. We’re fighting for our home. For each other. Kostas is just —”
He couldn’t finish the thought. His body quivered. He was cornered. Somehow he had alienated the people closest to him. Ilya put his arms around Sebastien and held him closely against his chest. Diya wrapped her arms around them, too.
“It’s okay,” Ilya said. “We are in this together. We all have our own story of what brought us here. Now we know yours.” He held Sebastien’s face in his hands. The calming effect was immediate. “The only difference is most of us are running away from something. You are running toward it.”
The moment was interrupted by three sharp knocks on the cabin door. Diya was the first to reach it. Standing in the corridor was a grave-faced officer in a blinding white uniform. Every muscle was held to project authority. They were surprised to see it was Nikos Antonopolous.
“Sebastien,” he said, peering inside. “Kostas wants a word with you.”
FOURTEEN
A Gift
The steel corridors of Hades were alive with drunken shouts and music spilling from parties that couldn’t be contained within cabins. Everyone went quiet as Nikos passed, but they applauded Sebastien with their eyes. Despite the severity of Kostas’s punishments, as well as the cash reward, the staff and crew hadn’t turned on one another. Tonight more than ever they were united in their cause, even though the strictly enforced midnight curfew was only an hour away.
“How goes the night for Achilles?” Sebastien watched him from the corners of his eyes as they walked down the main thoroughfare of Styx.
“I’ve had better.”
It wasn’t clear whether or not Nikos’s coldness was part of the act. He was a different man in public, but they would normally pass each other hints of intimacy through whispers and glances. Tonight seemed different.
“Is everything okay?” he asked as they climbed a set of stairs to the officers’ realm of A Deck.
Nikos reached inside his jacket. He held out his hand. Sitting in his palm was the little black stud Sebastien had lost the previous night.
“I believe this is yours.”
“Where did you find that?” Sebastien asked, tucking the stud into the pocket of his pants. He knew what the answer would be.
“Riviera Deck. Cabin 1450.” Their eyes met as they arrived at the door to Kostas’s office. “Good luck,” Nikos said. There was no chance to respond before he spun on his heel and marched away.
Sebastien hesitated before opening the door. He didn’t think Nikos would turn him in, but he knew a line had been crossed.
Kostas was sitting at his desk when Sebastien walked inside. The wall of Kourakis family memories unfolded behind him. The scene was almost identical to their first encounter here except for one thing. The hotel commander’s smug demeanor no longer consumed the air in the room. Nervous electricity hissed along every surface. He was rattled.
“Mr. Goh!” There was friction between his eyes and the smile on his face. “Please, sit down.”
“You wanted to see me?”
Kostas leaned forward with his elbows on the desk. His officer’s jacket was hung on the back of his chair. He wore a short-sleeved collared shirt that was perfectly pressed, revealing strong forearms covered in hair like a carpet of moss. A gaudy gold watch wrapped around one wrist.
“It has been an interesting day,” he said, clasping his thick hands together. “You’ve heard about what happened?”
“Yes, I’m shocked to hear about your wife’s cabin.” He crinkled his eyebrows to show concern. It was time to convince his father how compassionate Sebastien Goh could be. “It must have been terribly frightening for your family. Everyone’s okay, though?
“Yes, yes. They’re fine. Alarmed, inconvenienced, but fine.” He stared intently into Sebastien’s eyes, attempting to read what was behind the surface. “I think this attack on my family was orchestrated by the same deviants who hijacked Sirens the other night. You agree they’ve gone too far, Mr. Goh?”
“Of course.” He held his father’s gaze, careful not to look away.
“Do you know anything about these recent troubling incidents?”
He pretended to be caught off guard by the question. “No, sir. I mean, I was there at Sirens that night. I heard about what happened to Giorgos today. But I have no idea who’s behind all this.”
The little muscles in Kostas’s face twitched with the subtlest of movements, as though he were a machine processing the veracity of Sebastien’s comments. His unruly hair was slicked back, and the crooked scar above his right ear appeared redder in colour than usual.
“You were very vocal about the Dominic situation,” he said. “I know you were part of the protest, along with much of my staff and crew. I thought maybe you might have heard or witnessed something that could lead to identifying these cowards.”
“I wish I could help,” Sebastien said. It was harder now to hold his mask of compassion. “All of this is getting out of hand.”
“Yes!” Kostas said, nodding vigorously. “Yes, this is getting out of hand.” His face relaxed as he sat back in his chair. Finally, a conclusion had been reached. “You’re a passionate young man, Mr. Goh. You proved that the last time we spoke here in this room. It’s a quality I respect. You remind me of myself when I was your age. You have spirit.”
Sebastien forced a smile
as his lungs filled with heat. “Thank you.”
I’m nothing like you. I’ll never be you.
“I don’t have the easiest job,” Kostas said, crossing his hairy arms over his chest. “I make the rules, so I must punish those who break them. It’s so easy to paint me as the villain. But underneath this uniform, I’m just an ordinary man. I have a family to protect, to provide for. I have a job to perform, a staff and crew to take care of. I make mistakes. But I’m not the enemy.”
Sebastien realized he had forgotten to remove his smile as Kostas spoke. He quickly switched his expression to empathetic, narrowing his eyes and relaxing his jaw.
“I never used to have all of this, you know.” Kostas didn’t seem to notice the mechanical shifting of emotions on Sebastien. “I grew up poor. My mother had me very young. She made a mistake with a boy from the village, and that was that. No marriage. No respect. I never knew my father.”
Sebastien’s body stiffened. A shadow of gloom fell over Kostas’s face as he stared vacantly at the hands on his lap. It was an unexpected confession for them both. For a moment, they felt like family.
“I wasn’t raised on ideals and dreams,” he went on. “Only the very privileged can afford that. I grew up learning how to work hard, how to struggle and sweat, how to pull myself up in the world. I used to spend every day on the water catching fish, then every evening selling it. Joyless work, but it’s what I had to do to survive. I did that for years before I found a job on board a cargo ship.” He leaned forward, placing his palms flat on the surface of the desk. “This is why I’m here today. I started at the bottom, but I fought for it. I don’t believe in treating everyone the same because we are not all the same. Only the most entitled would think that. You get what you deserve. That’s how it works in the real world, and that’s how I run my ship.”
The Rebellious Tide Page 14