Within the Water

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Within the Water Page 11

by Kelly Fallows


  ‘Now don’t exaggerate, Dunc; they were only cracked.’ Ben gave up trying to fight off his grin.

  ‘I… phh… only cracked? I’ll show you damned cracked ribs!’ Duncan finally managed to string a sentence together through his incredulity and ire, and dove at Ben.

  ‘Uh, uh-ah. I’m the captain and I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against attacking the captain,’ Ben told him smugly as he dodged out of Duncan’s reach.

  ‘I think it’s called mutiny,’ Simon called out helpfully.

  ‘There you go, Duncan; our scholar tells us it’s mutiny,’ Ben declared waving a hand in Simon’s direction coupled with a half bow as if recognising a superior mind.

  ‘Mutiny, huh?’

  ‘Mutiny,’ Ben agreed.

  ‘Hmm,– to mutiny or not to mutiny that is the question,’ Duncan said in mock deep thought.

  ‘Thought you wanted to kill him just now? Shouldn’t be too hard a decision,’ Ash commented.

  ‘Ah yes, well, the trouble is that if I mutiny, I’ll have to take over the sub and then be the one coming up with crazy plans to save your sorry arses… not too sure I can be bothered with it all.’

  ‘It’s nice to be finally appreciated,’ Ben quipped from the sidelines.

  ‘Who said anything about appreciation?’ Sophie muttered, still quietly fuming over the whole episode, and not for an instant appreciating Ben and Duncan’s light-hearted banter.

  ‘Besides, you know, thinking about it, I think I prefer heckling anyway,’ Duncan decided as he plonked himself back into his seat.

  ‘Well, they always say you should stick to what you’re best at,’ Ben told him sagely.

  ‘Then why in the ocean are you here?’

  ‘Thought you decided against mutinous thoughts?’

  ‘Ah, but not mocking, which I believe falls firmly within the category of heckling, which we just decided I’m the best at,’ Duncan responded with a grin, while looking expectantly at Simon to confirm that mocking was now part of his job description.

  ‘Well, if class is finished for today, I’m going to grab some shut-eye before the next crazy plan. And, yes, Duncan, mocking does fall under heckling – sorry Cap,’ Simon said, voice laden with exhaustion as he slowly got to his feet.

  ‘How’s the arm holding up?’ Ben asked him.

  ‘I’ll live, Cap, don’t worry about it.’ Simon sought to reassure him with a smile, but, unfortunately, it turned into more of a grimace. Ben nodded his understanding and decided not to press the issue; there was nothing that anyone could do and as the bullet missed anything vital it shouldn’t trouble him for too much longer.

  ‘Bed sounds a good idea to me,’ Sophie agreed as she stood up. ‘Preferably without any more previously tried and failed plans making any appearances,’ she added as the rest of the crew got to their feet and stumbled to their bunks for some well-earned rest.

  ‘Tried and tested only. Got it.’ Ben grinned at her, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder, knowing she heard the apology – the apology that there really wasn’t anything else to be tried but also that they were in a situation where these kinds of plans were all they had left.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Good work, Duncan,’ Ben said quietly to Duncan, clapping him on the shoulder as he went past leaving only Ben and Zhe in the common room.

  ‘Good work?’ Zhe queried as she watched Duncan disappear through the hatchway.

  ‘Keeping everyone’s minds off the problems and the storm we just came through; a little bit of light entertainment, if you will,’ Ben confided in her.

  ‘So that was all a… show?’ Zhe paused struggling for the right word to describe what had just happened.

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘So it wasn’t true?’

  ‘It was based on truth; Creek Fall did happen and Dunc did take a pretty hard hit.’

  ‘But he’s not still upset about it?’

  At this comment, Ben smiled. ‘It’s difficult to still be upset over something that you weren’t upset about to begin with.’ Ben laughed at Zhe’s baffled expression.

  ‘We were just discussing some pretty dark things, Zhe, and, well, simply put, having Dunc rant at me took their minds off it a little. Maybe it showed them how well we came out of it: no injuries and we’re still sailing.’ Ben shrugged. ‘It seemed as good a way as any to stop all the soul searching, and the whys and wherefores.’

  ‘So why tell me?’ Zhe asked suddenly, and then blushed at her forthright manner. ‘I mean… if it’s supposed to take our minds off things then…’ she trailed off, filled with uncertainty.

  ‘You asked.’ Ben shrugged again. ‘I figured you’d been left in the dark enough, but if you’d rather I kept these ideas to myself…’

  ‘No. I like that you’re honest with me; it’s… strange, but a good kind of strange,’ she reasoned out.

  ‘Come on then. Strange or not, Simon was right about getting some shut-eye while we can,’ Ben said through a grimace.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. I just realised that Blue is going to be insufferable tomorrow, when he’s got to fix the Coelacanth.’

  Zhe giggled quietly at Ben’s expression, but knew he was right. Exhaustion was pretty much the only reason that Blue hadn’t started on the ranting tonight and she didn’t think he’d seen the full extent of the damage either.

  ‘Oh, I see how it is – laughing at my misfortunes!’ Ben mock scowled at her as they, too, went to find their bunks for some well-earned rest.

  Zhe decided her own soul searching could wait until tomorrow; right now, she was simply too tired to ruminate on how she knew how to fire a gun when she'd never held one before, in her memory, at least.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘Minister?’ The clerk’s hesitance was plain. It had only been a week since he was called into this very office and dragged into the Serronous mess, but with so little advancement and nothing to report, the week had seemed at once both endless and fleeting. Just a few more days, he had kept telling himself, and something would turn up; something had to turn up – it was his neck if it didn’t. And, at last, something had. However, his relief was short lived; while something was better than nothing, nothing was ever good enough for Fahlen. Getting results meant he would probably keep his head attached to his neck, but it meant that, next time, Fahlen would expect more and much faster; it was a cycle that he could never win and he knew it. But, still, he hoped. Until he stood before Fahlen once more and that hope deserted him like a sub into the Abyss.

  Despite knowing that this interruption could only mean progress, Fahlen left his clerk to stew a little longer, being half poised in the doorway, and nervously vacillating between backing out completely and coming further into the office. Finally, the clerk decided that calling out once more was the best course of action, but, no sooner had he opened his mouth to do so, than Fahlen cut across him.

  ‘I heard your insolence the first time,’ he said coldly; his hard tone effortlessly reaching every corner of the lush office.

  ‘Apologies, Minister,’ the clerk squeaked.

  Fahlen let out a heavy theatrical sigh, carefully and deliberately set down his gold fountain pen on his hand-carved desk, and settled back in his chair to stare at his unfortunate clerk.

  ‘Well?’ Fahlen demanded when the clerk made no move to speak or step further into the office. ‘It must be something of great importance for you to disturb me like this, I know; especially when I left particular instructions that I was to remain undisturbed this afternoon,’ Fahlen continued, quietly menacing his assistant.

  ‘Ah… of course, Minister… but…’ the clerk stammered before rallying himself. ‘I found a witness to the attack on the Serronous, sir. With the records being lost, I thought an eyewitness was the next best thing,’ he explained, condensing an entire week’s worth of blood, sweat an
d tears into a two sentence report. Not dwelling on the fact that finding a living witness was hard enough, not to mention one that would actually talk to him. Failure of the kind that the troopers of the Serronous had committed was not to be tolerated; being aware of this, the few survivors had long since disappeared into the blue.

  ‘An eyewitness,’ Fahlen repeated slowly.

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘So you deliberately ignored my orders to find the recording from the sub, and instead brought me one of the cowards who stood by and allowed such a depraved attack on the Republic in flagrant disregard of their own oaths to protect the Republic. Am I understanding you correctly?’

  ‘Y… yes.’ The clerk swallowed uneasily. ‘Minister,’ he added hastily at Fahlen’s glare.

  ‘Well?’ Fahlen questioned impatiently.

  ‘… sir?’ The clerk looked about apprehensively in the vain hope of inspiration striking as to just what he was supposed to be doing now.

  ‘Bring him in,’ Fahlen ordered. ‘He is in the outer office, isn’t he?’ he added in a threatening manner, as if enough of his time had been wasted on his clerk’s incompetence.

  ‘Yes. Yes, he is. I’ll just… uh… show him in,’ the clerk stuttered nervously, backing out of the doorway into the outer office before showing in a troop commander.

  Fahlen hid his surprise that the trooper was still in uniform with the ensign denoting his high rank, having thought that all troopers involved in this disastrous affair had been at the very least stripped of their rank, if not their life.

  ‘Commander Williams, Minister,’ the clerk announced, before scurrying back out to the relative safety of his desk.

  Williams, while still standing to attention, still managed to look incredibly laid back about the whole situation, and projected an air of a man who knew the power games the minister was going to try and play, and knew he was above them all. Rising to his rank came with dealing with the petty whims of politicians and he'd be damned if he'd let this flash in the pan intimidate him.

  ‘Commander Williams,’ Fahlen returned after a lengthy silence, designed on Fahlen’s part to make his guest uncomfortable and think of all the ways that Fahlen could end not only his career but his life. To say that Fahlen was displeased that the silence didn’t produce the desired effect would be an understatement.

  ‘So, you are the commander responsible for this depraved attack on the Republic. Do you have nothing to say for yourself?’ Fahlen demanded, when the commander failed to rise to the bait.

  ‘With all due respect, sir, what I have to say on the matter will be said to the appropriate military hearing,’ Williams responded calmly.

  ‘Indeed, then if you will not discuss the matter, why are you here?’

  ‘Your clerk explained that you needed the recordings from the attack, as these did not survive; I am here to answer any factual questions you have on the attack.’

  ‘Factual questions?’

  ‘As I said, anything else will be discussed at the hearing and not before.’ Williams did not give an inch.

  ‘I see.’ Fahlen waited for more information, but Commander Williams merely remained standing to attention in the middle of Fahlen’s office, unperturbed by the silence.

  ‘Well.’ Fahlen cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps if you were to tell me what happened, that would be a start,’ he demanded under the guise of a suggestion; his displeasure at how fast he had lost control was plain. ‘Just the facts, of course,’ he added sarcastically.

  ‘Yes sir,’ Williams answered dutifully. ‘Minister Devonport came on board at Isnal Dock…’

  ‘Yes, yes. If we could proceed to the actual attack, Commander,’ Fahlen cut across him impatiently.

  ‘Of course, sir.’ Commander Williams took a moment before continuing his narrative. ‘We were coming through Heaton Passage, sir, travelling with all due speed…’

  ‘… and then we dragged Minister Devonport aboard the Corronous.’ The commander finished his tale with their escape from the sinking Serronous. ‘He was in no state to move under his own power, he'd informed us,’ Williams added at Fahlen’s raised eyebrow over his treatment of a government minister. Fahlen had slowly been getting more details from the commander, with reactions such as this one, over the course of the interview.

  ‘Indeed. Being attacked by pirates is enough to test the mettle of any man, I should think,’ Fahlen rebuked him.

  ‘Sir.’ Williams simply gave a trooper’s practised response to a superior’s opinion that he didn’t agree with.

  ‘This pirate… captain you mentioned, can you describe him?’ Fahlen asked, his voice full of derision. A simple task but one that seemed incapable of being fulfilled now that Fahlen couldn’t get his hands on the security recordings – one clear image was all he wanted.

  ‘He was average, sir.’

  ‘I didn’t realise there was an average pirate,’ Fahlen almost snorted.

  ‘Six foot tall, late thirties, military bearing, devil may care attitude, sir,’ Williams added succinctly.

  ‘That description would fit half the men in the Republic, Williams!’

  ‘As I said, sir – average.’

  Fahlen scowled at his borderline insubordination.

  ‘And the sub, I suppose that was also average.’ Fahlen spat out that last word as though it was a plague.

  ‘No sir.’

  ‘Well, its description then, man!’ Fahlen demanded, having reached the end of what little patience he had for men that weren’t either useful to or intimidated by him.

  ‘I do not have a description, Minister.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We were otherwise occupied, sir.’

  ‘Otherwise occupied,’ Fahlen repeated incredulously. ‘Too busy to take note of an attack on the Republic!’

  ‘Too busy defending against the attack on the Serronous and protecting Minister Devonport to examine the boat from which the attack came, sir,’ Williams corrected, carefully avoiding any issues of attacks on the Republic itself. He knew that when men like Fahlen started throwing around accusations like that, necks were going to be stretched and heads would roll.

  ‘The Republic stands, Commander Williams.’ Fahlen’s tone was beyond threatening as he repeated the mantra of the Republic. A mantra that once referred to the hope and survival of the human race beyond the nuclear war, but now it was simply another weapon in the politicians’ arsenal to keep everything exactly how they wanted it.

  ‘The Republic stands,’ Williams repeated dutifully.

  ‘Good, I’m glad we are clear on that, Commander Williams, and the Republic will continue to stand despite any attack, from any quarter.’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘Rest assured, I will be talking to Admiral Greyson about this,’ Fahlen promised.

  ‘Yes sir.’ Williams knew at this pronouncement that his career had ended and that any slim hope that he'd survive this incident, which he'd been holding onto since the sinking of the Serronous, had been shattered. Twenty years of loyal service was to come to an abrupt, ignominious end at the hands, not of pirates nor true enemies, but by one of their own leaders.

  ‘You are dismissed,’ Fahlen told him coldly, after it became clear that Williams wasn’t going to take the subtle dismissal he infused into his last threat.

  ‘Sir.’ Williams saluted before leaving, determined to keep his dignity; at least they hadn’t taken that yet.

  ‘Send in my clerk on your way out,’ Fahlen ordered as a last humiliation, not even bothering to look up from his papers at the man he addressed.

  Williams faltered mid-step tempted to tell the minister exactly what he thought of him and this whole farce. After all, what else could they do to him, he asked himself, Fahlen had as good as said his number was up. However, he knew that if he could get out of the building unmolested he had a chan
ce to survive. Not as a trooper. No, that they had taken, but with his life. With that thought and that thought alone, he acquiesced and sent in the man unfortunate enough to be Fahlen’s clerk. A look was all they exchanged but it was enough – two men equally condemned with no real way out.

  Fahlen smirked to himself; he knew the trooper's thoughts. He knew the reason for his capitulation; his plan to disappear as soon as he left the building. Little did the commander know that he would never clear the doors as a freeman. Oh, he might get quite far, perhaps as far as his arm outstretched and his hand touching the door, Fahlen mused, but no further. Fahlen was tempted to pull the lobby cameras up on his desk monitors, just to see the expression on the trooper’s face when he realised that he had been beaten by the better man. However, his clerk’s poorly disguised cough pulled him from his vindictive musings.

  ‘Yes?’ Fahlen asked tersely.

  ‘Er, you wanted to see me, sir?’

  Fahlen stared at the man’s audacity for a moment before deciding that he didn’t have time to deal with him then – his current business was far too important to delay.

  ‘Yes, get me Nathan,’ he told him before returning to his papers. I’ll just have to miss Williams’ demise, he thought with regret as he continued working.

  ‘Er, sir?’ The clerk nervously interrupted him once more. ‘Ah, Nathan who, sir?’

  ‘Nathan who?’ Fahlen repeated incredulously. ‘Just how many Nathans are there who don’t have a surname?’ He thundered.

  ‘Ah, just the leader of the Guild?’ The clerk answered after a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘Exactly. Now which one do you think I meant?’ Fahlen asked with mock patience.

  ‘Er… that one, sir.’

  ‘Precisely,’ Fahlen spat the word at him.

  ‘Right, sir.’ The clerk murmured as he scurried out of the office, back to his desk, and tried to work out just how he was going to raise the leader of the notorious Guild.

  ***

  Nathan’s laughter echoed through the chambers that the Guild currently inhabited, sending many of the lower-level members ducking for cover.

 

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