The Reef (35 page)

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Authors: Mark Charan Newton

BOOK: The Reef
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Menz shook his head. The others were wide-eyed, shocked at what the Qe Falta could be doing. They could hear his boots running along the deck, followed by another low moan. Then there was only silence.

Allocen’s figure peered over the edge of the whaler’s deck. He was no longer wearing his cloak, his antennae wafting in the crosswind. Blood soaked his clothing. He raised an arm, put up his thumb. Then he turned.

Jella looked at Menz.

The old rumel merely shook his head. ‘We could’ve at least asked.’ Then he stepped towards the rope.

That evening, they all sat around a table in Jella’s cabin. She insisted that they ate together, even Allocen. Lula sat next to Jella, and Menz, Yayle and Gabryl opposite. Allocen was standing by the cabin door, his hood drawn over his face. Sometimes, Jella could see the candle reflecting in the creature’s eyes.

‘So, we’ve got the whales,’ Gabryl said.

‘Yep,’ Jella said. She sat back, draped an arm over the back of the chair, sipped from her wine glass, then looked out the porthole window opposite.

‘Just straight there?’ Gabryl said.

‘Yep,’ Jella said. ‘Straight there.’

Gabryl ate tentatively at his fish meal before laying his fork on the plate. ‘This thing-it wants a whale?’ ‘I reckon so.’ ‘You ...
reckon
so?’ Jella said, ‘Okay, I
know
so. It’ll be like catnip.’ ‘Then we take it to Escha, right?’ ‘Right.’ ‘Sounds a good plan.’ ‘It is a good plan.’ She placed her glass down and regarded Gabryl.

She smiled then looked across at Menz then Yayle. Both rumel were staring down at their plates. They had already finished their meal. ‘It sounds too easy,’ Gabryl said. He wiped some sauce from the edge of his beard with his top lip. ‘Anyway, why do it this way, why not other ways?’

‘This’ll last longer. You see, a bomb will kill. They all die at once. It’s good and effective, but people recover. Wounds heal. Buildings are built again.’ She indicated Allocen. ‘The Qe Falta, like him over there, they had a series of suicide bombers years ago. Took out a few buildings, some people, but nothing much since. Those attacks are soon forgotten by those who’re unaffected.’

‘Suicide, why? You mean they do it with the intention they pop up to visit Arrahd afterwards?’ Gabryl asked.

‘No.’ She smiled again. ‘Hell, no. Not Arrahd. I don’t think the Qe Palta believe in a god, no matter what name, particularly that one. They don’t believe in creation at all. They go back to the life force, or whatever they believe in. Back to nature, as it were.’

‘A strange psychology.’ Gabryl nodded to himself; his words seemed to linger in the room. ‘Not if you believe in a greater good,’ Jella said. ‘Not if you want justice for your people. It makes perfect sense. To them.’

‘And this Quidlo thing ...’ Gabryl said.

‘Will go on and on. Firstly, it will create a large scale movement of water-a tidal wave. Started so far out at see, that initial impact will be severe, possibly wiping out half that coast. Over a period of time, with Quidlo in the waters, the damage will go on. It’ll stop all shipping for a good few years. The damage goes on. That’s the great thing.’

Gabryl nodded, raising a fist to his mouth to stifle a belch. Jella couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. She turned to the rumel. ‘You’re quiet, guys.’ ‘Yes,’ Menz said. ‘A bit tired, I think. Repetition of the sea and whatnot.’

Yayle nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

‘You boys need to learn the ways of the sea,’ Gabryl said. He slid his plate forwards. ‘I’ll make sailors out of you yet.’ ‘You mean you’ll take us below deck and bugger us, pretending we’re women?’ Yayle said. Gabryl guffawed loudly. ‘Ah, lad. You’ve got spunk in you, I’ll say.’

‘I hope that’s not a promise?’ Yayle said with an eyebrow raised.

‘Are you sure you’re not having any doubts?’ Jella asked. She rested a palm on the table. ‘Anyone?’ Menz raised his eyes and held her gaze for a while. ‘Don’t be silly.’

After the others had gone to sleep, Jella and Lula were standing in loose night wear on deck feeling the cool night breeze from the trade winds. They were both holding cups of water, leaning, side by side, on the rails. Lula sighed. She looked at the reflection of the stars on the surface of the sea.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jella asked above the noise of the waves hitting the boat.

‘Nothing,’ Lula said.

‘I can tell something’s up.’

‘Nothing’s up, okay.’ Lula glanced into her cup, took a swig.

Jella stood closer. ‘Look, just tell me. I don’t like seeing you like this .’ Lula slid fractionally away. ‘Surprised you even noticed.’ ‘Sorry?’ Jella said. ‘You heard.’ ‘I’m not sure I understand.’ ‘No, no you don’t, do you.’ Lula smiled vaguely. ‘You have no idea what I’m feeling. You haven’t cared for ages.’

‘That’s rubbish. Course I have.’

‘Tell me then,’ Lula said. ‘Tell me what I’m feeling.’

Jella was silent. Her tail was motionless. She looked down into her cup.

‘You’re too caught up in this,’ Lula said. ‘You’re not even thinking about me. And it’s not as though you’re busy, is it? I mean, there’s not a great deal to do on this thing.’

‘I think about you more than you realise.’

‘Maybe it’s not enough,’ Lula said.

‘Why’re you so insecure? You never used to be like this,’ Jella said.

‘You say it as if it’s a crime. It’s not
bad
to be insecure, you know. Everyone is, a little bit.’ ‘I’m not,’ Jella said. ‘No,’ Lula said. Then, ‘No, you’re not, are you. You’re immune to worry.’

‘I’m just rational.’

‘People aren’t rational.
Human’s
aren’t,’ Lula said. Then, ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that-’ ‘Why apologise?’ Jella said. ‘Nothing offended me.’ ‘Okay,’ Lula said. ‘Surely you must be worried about something. Not even the plan?’

‘No, it’s perfect.’

‘Do you worry about whether or not the plan will make you feel as though you achieved what you wanted? Or, will you go on after this looking for the next thing to get involved in?’

‘I can’t see where you’re going with this,’ Jella said.

‘The more time I spend with you-out here, out away from other distractions-the more I worry about you.’

‘There’s really no need for you to worry.’

‘What d’you really hope to get from all this?’ Lula said.

‘The destruction of a city.’

‘I mean
personally,’
Lula said.

‘The destruction of a city.’ Jella turned around and leant back on the rail.

Lula sighed and glanced across the dark panorama.
It
was easy to be distracted by the rhythm of the tide. ‘If Lucher was still standing, if you had no need for this, then what d’you reckon you’d be doing?’

‘Doing?’ Jella looked across at her lover. ‘You, ideally.’ She smiled, stepped behind Lula, put her arms around the human. Lula smiled politely. ‘I mean what would you be doing as a life, career?’

Jella rested her chin on Lula’s shoulder. ‘Don’t know. I think I’d probably be studying something. Science. It was what my dad wanted.’ Then, ‘Yes, probably as a researcher or something. Coastal ecology. That’s the same thing my dad studied. When I was little he used to talk to me about those sorts of things.’

Lula sighed happily. ‘You don’t talk about him much. I like it when you talk about your past.’

Jella said, ‘I don’t really have a past to talk about.’

‘I think that’s why I don’t understand you as much as I’d like to,’ Lula said. She ran her cheek along Jella’s. ‘I don’t know what makes you tick.’

‘You make me tick,’ Jella said. She kissed along Lula’s jaw.

‘You don’t have to
always
fuck me,’ Lula said. ‘Talk to me. Let me inside your head more.’ ‘You don’t want to be there.’ ‘What would I see?’ Lula said. ‘You. Being pleasured.’ ‘You’re sex-obsessed. Why?’ ‘You say that as if it’s a crime ...’ Jella smiled. ‘I think you’re using it as an excuse not to talk to me. You’d rather make me horny than open up.’

‘Any complaints, genius?’ She threw her cup overboard.

‘No,’ Lula said. ‘No and yes. I get worried about you.’

‘Well, don’t be. I’m fine, really.’ Jella ran her tail up between Lula’s legs, and the human opened them, leaned forward on the rails, stared out to the horizon.

Lula closed her eyes, accepting the act, believing it to be a strange charity or sorts. She began to think whilst Jella slipped her tail inside. She’d have to fake it again tonight. But at least it would make Jella feel better about herself. She wasn’t the only person in the world to do it. It wasn’t as though she didn’t enjoy it, because she did. To feel those strong, tough-skinned hands on her body was a delight. Sometimes though it needs more than the physical connection. As she felt Jella’s tail moving around inside of her, circling with precision, she clutched the rail tightly.

‘Are you enjoying this?’ Jella asked.

‘Oh, yes ...’ Lula said, and dropped her cup into the sea.

Twenty-One

‘So,
this is it then,’ Forb said, rubbing his hand over the metal of the submersible. It was brown, shaped like a cigar. Its curves seemed to hint at mathematical precision.

‘Indeed it is. My own precious secret. A delight. A mystery of technology. I give you, the
Pilar.’
Santiago was standing on the deck with his hands in his pocket. The wind ruffled his vision settled on the doctor, waiting for a reaction.

‘It’s fantastic,’ Forb said. ‘Seats six?’

‘Yes.’

‘A relic you say?’

‘Yes. When you’re connected as well as I am, you can find some delights on the black market.’ ‘I thought you were a Collectivist? Didn’t think you guys did things on the black market?’

Santiago said, ‘It’s the economy’s fault, not mine.’

‘So, where does the gas mixture go?’

‘There’s room for ten cylinders, which fit around the inside. That can last for twenty-four hours at least. We won’t need that much, though. It’s a mixture.’

‘And you got that from ... let me remember, the industrial areas?’

‘Absolutely. You remember the mainland well, sir.’

‘Yeah, can’t forget a heap like that in a hurry.’ Forb inspected the six large, glass portholes. He was amazed to see something like this. During the rebellion to science, so much must have been lost. It was awe-inspiring to see such a mechanism had survived, and it suggested only greater things an age ago. Although he had fled the city and his own past, Forb was entranced by the sense of history that the submersible presented. To see something so old, yet far more powerful than current civilisation could create, was humbling. ‘How thick is the glass?’

‘It isn’t glass,’ Santiago said. ‘We don’t know what it is, but it isn’t glass.’

‘So how deep can we go in it?’

‘A few miles, I suspect. But we won’t need to go that far. Notice the spotlights on the front.’

‘Yes, very effective?’

‘Reasonably. Probably a ten foot beam underwater with generators of some description.
If
I’m honest, it’s technology is beyond anything I’ve known or seen. But the whole thing’s perfectly safe. I’ve used it on a couple of private expeditions before. I’ve never had any trouble with it.’

‘What metal is this made from?’

‘Again, we don’t know. It looks like brass, but it isn’t. It can stand ridiculously strong pressures though. The last age had so much better resources, didn’t it. We’ve things floating around the city that we’ve no idea what they’re used for. What really annoys me is that government have stashed Arrahd-knows how much of it. All growing mould. If only we knew. Of course the public, mostly, have no idea.’

‘Yes. It’s surprising,’ Forb said, and wondered again how Santiago managed to extend his influence so far to acquire such a device. ‘What time shall we dive then? When can you get it ready by?’

‘Give me an hour,’ Santiago said. ‘Just need to make sure the rotors are in good condition then lower the thing. I can get it ready for before lunch, then we should still have good light. Not that there is any down the other side of the reef.’

‘Great. I’ll row back and get the others ready.’

The rest of DeBrelt’s crew were sitting on the beach, near where Santiago’s ship was anchored, a little way off where the waters were deeper. Everyone struggled to meet each other’s vision. Calyban and Soul were watching them all from the shade of a tree. Palms crowded the beach, and the shallow waters were still bright blue despite the shade.

Yana stood up, hunched instantly. She was clutching her stomach and she gasped a little. Everyone turned. ‘It’s all right. I’m just feeling sick.’ Waving a hand, she staggered from side to side.

‘Are you okay?’ Becq asked.

‘Yes, please don’t get up. Stay there, okay. Promise you’ll stay.’

Becq nodded, her face revealing concern.

Yana groaned as she stumbled, bent double, towards the forest. Her white skirt was long and almost tripped her as she stepped out of sight. Jefry stood up, looked for a moment towards where she went then followed her. Manolin wondered what it was all about.

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