Undersea (7 page)

“Your water out?” the gentleman asked politely. Ralla turned and smiled at him.

“Sorry?” she asked, doing a far better job mimicking the accent than Thom. For a moment, the man seemed uncomfortable, but his wife took over.

“My husband was just asking if the water was out in your house, because, you know...” she said, bringing her hand discretely up to her nose.

“Ohhhh,” Ralla said with a laugh that Thom mimicked. “As a matter of fact it is. I’d wish I could say ‘how’d you know’,
” Ralla’s eyes flicked between the two.

“We had the same problem last year. If you’d like, you can use the shower at our place,” the woman said, her smile never wavering. Thom squeezed Ralla’s hand, but Ralla squeezed back.

“Well I’ll tell you, we’d love to. If it wouldn’t be a bother,” she replied. The older couple looked very pleased. As a group they headed up into the superstructure.

The “house” was just a small cabin a few decks up and away from the main central area. Thom was tense the whole walk, but followed Ralla’s confident lead. He did his best to look calm by taking in the sights as they went. The corridors were smaller than on the
Uni
, and almost uniformly wetter and rustier. Many lights were out, creating areas that were in deep shadow. Paneling was missing or broken in places. The moisture pooled in places, causing the threadbare carpet to squish beneath their feet.

The cabin itself was clean, but only about twice the size of Thom’s cabin single. The bathroom was larger, though, and the older couple made it rather obvious that they expected the two of them to shower together. Not wanting to engage in potentially dangerous small talk, this suited them both. They turned on the water, a low pressure trickle, and then awkwardly undressed back to back. They stepped into the shower in the same unspoken arrangement. While washing off several days of grime, they spoke as quietly as they could.

“Before you say anything, we needed this and you know it. How long before some less-polite people would start to take notice?” Ralla said over her shoulder.

“OK, fair point.”

“Any ideas what to do next?”

“We should get the lay of the ship, and wait till tonight to see if we can steal a sub from somewhere.”

“You think they’ll just let one of their subs leave on its own?”

“No, probably not. Let me think about that.”

“Do you think they killed everyone in the dome?” Ralla asked, even more quietly. After a moment’s pause, Thom replied.

“Yes.”

They finished showering and wrapped themselves in towels that hung nearby. They redressed—no small feat in the cramped quarters. Thom didn’t feel bad sneaking a glance at Ralla, as he didn’t miss her do the same. When they exited the bathroom, the cabin was empty.

After a cursory look around the cabin and finding nothing of interest, Thom and Ralla wandered out into the ship. The layout and overall build wasn’t radically different from the
Universalis
, alluding to their common ancestry. The
Population
, though, was in visibly worse shape. Ralla pointed out key structural members that had noticeable decay, while they both marveled at the rust apparent on all surfaces. They came to a park area with monitors set up on tables. There were a handful of people, but several of the tables were empty. They sat next to each other at two adjacent computers and tapped the screens.

After a few moments, Ralla said to Thom, “Do you want to find the ship layout and I’ll go over the news?”

Thom nodded, and turned back to the public terminal. They sat in silence, searching through whatever information they could find. After a few more minutes of searching, they started talking.

“I think I have an idea how we can get out of here. We’ll have to wait till we’re underway though.”

“So, the guy we saw yesterday is Herridki Oppai. He won the governorship about six months ago. From the articles at the time it doesn’t look like he had much opposition; he won in a landslide. This talk about the mining dome only started a month or so ago, and
man
is it vicious. They blame us for their lack of resources. For... well, for just about everything. That was going on for a while before Oppai took office and it has really intensified since then.” She looked up from the terminal and at Thom. “How can they do this? They're just lying to these people. We're not the bad guys. They're the ones that attacked us.”

“Let’s not call it ‘us,’ OK?” he said quietly. She nodded.

“We've always tried to help,” she mouthed “them” and motioned with her head vaguely to the rest of the ship.

“Have we?”

“Are you serious?” Ralla said, looking shocked. “Why... how? Why would we do any of this?”

Thom shrugged.

“I'm just saying, I drove
you
to that dome. I have a feeling I have a different perspective on the ship than you do.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a big ship, Ralla.”

“Not that big.”

“I'm just saying I've seen some, well,
optimistic
stories in the Daily.”

“That's not the same thing.”

"Maybe. Maybe not. How would I know? But we can worry about that later. Keep going.”

Ralla, visibly riled, was unsure what annoyed her more: his flippant insinuation about her father and the Council's honesty, or that he had moved on so casually. Or that he was right. They could deal with it later. She finally turned back to her console.

“There’s a lot more. I wish I could just send it to my storage on the
Uni
.”

“Remember what you can. There’s not a lot of technical info I can dig up, mostly just maps and stuff, but enough for us to find our way around.” Thom leaned over and put the palm of his hand on the deck. “I think the engines are starting up. We may be moving already, which is good. We should keep wandering around, seeing what we can see. We’ll get some dinner later and then hide out when everyone goes to bed. Sound good?”

“What’s your plan?”

“Well, it’s a little complicated.

VIII

They explored the ship, taking mental notes on anything that was remotely interesting. They listened to nearby conversations. The food, being free, kept them eating throughout the day. Each time they ate, they stored what extra they could in their clothing. No one paid them any attention. They were careful not to loiter too long in any one place, and always made it look like they had some place to be. They had a late dinner at the same cafe where they had breakfast, then wandered arm in arm through the nearby park as the area slowly emptied. The shops closed up, and Thom and Ralla took temporary refuge where they had started the day so many hours before. Ralla fell asleep leaning against the back of a restaurant.

Thom woke her several hours later, and in silence they retraced their steps back to the elevator, back down into the long corridor that connected the bays on this side of the ship. Thom checked the identification panels on the doors. Finally, he stopped at one and pressed the adjacent button to open the lock.

The bay was longer than the one they had entered from. Instead of a pool at one end with a gantry crane to remove the subs, this one had a gentle ramp into the water which got progressively deeper until it met a vertical, fully submerged lock on the far side.

There were small craft shaped like arrowheads lined along all the walls and in cradles hung from the ceiling. Those on the floor sat on wheels extended from flush mounts integrated into their hulls.

“I thought we were going to take one of transports?” Ralla asked as the lock sealed itself shut.

“This will be better. They’re missing some of these already because of the attack, so when they go down to clean up the mess we’re about to make, they won’t know one is missing.”

“A little cramped, don’t you think?”

“I do think that, yes.”

“It looks like there’s barely room for the two of us in there.”

“Technically, they’re one-seater attack subs,” Thom said, eying them closely. He missed Ralla’s glare. Thom continued to scan the bay, and found what he was looking for. He made his way over to the tool bench and grabbed an oversized wrench from a hanger on the wall behind it.

“OK, go get in...” He looked around at the stable of subs, and chose the closest one to the pool. “That one. There’s probably a single glowing button. Press it.”

They moved in different directions, their footsteps echoing though the quiet bay. The air smelled like seawater and grease. Thom moved towards the lock they had entered and opened it. He stuck his head out into the corridor, looked both ways, then looked up and down the jam where the door sealed itself against the bulkhead. Holding the wrench over a certain spot, he hit the button again. The door slid back, pinning the wrench between the jam and the door. The door motor whined.

He jogged across the bay, past the sub where Ralla sat. He heard it making noise, its systems coming alive and its engines spooling up. Near the outer wall, next to the pool, there was a small console. Thom stood over it and looked from the pool and closed lock back up at Ralla. She had the cockpit canopy open, and gave him a thumbs up. Thom pressed a button on the middle of the console, and it was as if he lit off a war.

Alarms pierced the silence and echoed into cacophony. Blue strobes flashed from locations all along each wall. Thom pressed the button again, and sprinted toward their new sub. Jumping up towards the cockpit, he half pulled himself in and half got pulled in by Ralla. The water in the pool started to churn.

The seating position in the sub was severely reclined, and Thom and Ralla squeezed into it the best they could. Thom took up most of the seat, and angled himself so his left side was partially against the bulkhead on that side. Ralla folded herself into what was remaining of the right side, nestling rather uncomfortably into the space between his arm and his torso.

Thom scanned the controls and within a few moments got the craft moving. The electric motors in the wheel hubs provided minimal speed, but got them around till they were facing the ramp at the fore-most corner of the pool. The water was getting increasingly turbulent. Waves had formed and water had started spilling over the top of the pool and onto the deck.

The lock started opening slowly, but rapidly increased its pace. Due to the speed of the
Pop,
water surged up and over the stern-most edge of the pool. As the lock reached its fully open position, a continuous wave of water inundated the end of the bay. The surge crashed into the far wall, and started echoing back, bringing once parked subs with it like toys. The wave, now not much higher than knee height, hit the forward wall, completing the flooding of the bay. Air screamed out of the bay though the braced-open lock, seawater rapidly taking its place. It wasn’t more than a few moments before the water level was at the bottom of Thom and Ralla’s sub.

“Hang on,” he said. Ralla braced herself against the cockpit and Thom as he throttled up the dry engines and eased the craft into the water using the electric hub motors. The turbines behind them screamed in the open air. The second the bow touched the water, the current took it, jerking them sideways and pulling them deeper into the water and towards the rear of the ramp. The port turbine submerged first, spinning them around so they faced back the way they came. Thom swore, throttled into reverse just as the starboard turbine caught. The end of the pool loomed large in the viewscreen just as the powerful engines shot them out into the ocean. Thom cut the engine and powered down the ship immediately, floating in silence along the dark rippled hull of the
Population
. Looking out the cockpit to the left, they could see their sister subs being ejected from the bay and slowly sinking to the bottom.

Thom looked the other way, at the stern of the
Pop
. Ralla had relaxed her grip. Sensing he had no time to explain, Thom braced his feet against the sub, pulled Ralla tight against him, and closed his eyes.

The
Population
had six propellers arranged roughly in a “U” shape. Each eight-bladed propeller was just over four stories in diameter. As the tiny attack sub cleared the stern of the ship the massive suction of the props sucked them into the wake, tossing them around like a bit of paper in a hurricane. Thom and Ralla were thrown violently about the cockpit, impacting each other and every surface in the sub.

They awoke to find themselves bruised, battered, and uncomfortably tangled up with one another. A single button was glowing warmly on the console. The backup mechanical dials showed them to be at neutral buoyancy and in a slow spin. As he and Ralla adjusted into the seat the best they could, Thom looked around them to see if there was any trace of the
Pop
. Nothing but empty sea. He powered up the sub. The main screen showed a thermal layer not too far above them, and no craft in the vicinity. He set the sub to rise slowly, without using the main engines. Once through the layer, and again showing no other ships, he powered up the main engines. Everything appeared to be in working order.

“OK, Dome F211 here we come. Two days in here won’t be too bad, right?” Thom said with a smile.

Ralla scowled.

It took them two and a half days to get to the farming dome, F211. From there, a transport got them to the
Uni
in just under a day. The transport, designed for short trips hauling grain to the
Uni
when it was parked nearby, was modified with extra seats, supplies, fuel. Its only cargo, besides Thom and Ralla, was the attack sub stolen from the
Pop
.

Something had changed between them. Silence was the norm during their cramped voyage, but the close quarters had somehow diminished the animosity. During the last leg on the transport, they said nothing, but sat next to each other despite a choice of seats. She fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.