Daughter of the Deep(20)

‘The Aronnax,’ I guess. ‘Some kind of submarine?’

Gem scans the horizon. ‘Not like any I’ve ever heard of. If that’s what attacked HP, and it’s after us …’

He leaves the thought unfinished. Any vessel that can destroy a square mile of the California coast is not something we can fight in the Varuna, even with assault rifles, zappy guns and a luchador dolphin. If we can’t go to the authorities, which Hewett seems adamant about, then our only hope is to run and hide. That leads me to an uneasy question: run and hide where?

Ester strolls over with Top at her heels and a dead squid in her hand. Without preamble, she hands me the squid, which is both warm and icy – and extremely gross.

‘I found it in the freezer,’ she says. ‘I put it in the microwave for sixty-five seconds. I didn’t do it any longer because I didn’t want it to get too squishy. I mean, it’s a squid, so it’s already squishy.’

She says all this without a pause and without meeting my eyes. Of course, she’s just trying to make me feel better. She knew I would want to give Socrates a treat, and she found just the thing.

I’ve heard ‘experts’ say that autistic people have trouble with empathy, but sometimes I wonder if these experts have ever actually sat down and talked to autistic people. When we first met, I didn’t understand why Ester wouldn’t say something comforting when one of us was upset. I found her behaviour a complex code, like jumbled words and signals. But once I cracked that code I realized that she just does things a little differently. She’s more likely to do something nice, or offer an explanation, as a way of helping me feel better. She is, in fact, one of the most empathetic people I’ve ever met.

Top sits at my feet and wags his tail. He gives me his most soulful stare. I’m a very good boy. I almost killed someone earlier.

‘He’s already had tons of treats,’ Ester assures me. ‘The squid is for Socrates.’

‘As long as it’s not for me,’ Gem says.

‘That was a joke,’ Ester says, her expression deadly serious. ‘I get it.’

‘This is wonderful,’ I tell Ester. ‘Thank you.’

I throw the squid to Socrates, who snaps it up eagerly. I wish I could bring it down to him and feed him by hand, but we’re moving at a fast clip now, and so is he. I know he can easily keep pace with our boat, but I’m not sure whether he’ll follow us or not. Dolphins have their own priorities.

‘He can rest on board if he gets tired,’ Ester tells me.

It takes me a second to process that sentence. ‘What do you mean on board?’

‘Have you seen the captain’s room?’ she asks. ‘Harding-Pencroft has always had dolphin friends. It’s like Top.’ She scratches his ear. ‘There’s always been a Top at Harding-Pencroft. I mean, before Harding-Pencroft was destroyed.’

I don’t quite understand what she means about Top and the dolphins always being at HP, but when she mentions the school’s destruction, she gets agitated again. She starts tapping her fingertips on her thighs. The volume of her voice goes up several notches.

‘ANYWAY, I CAME TO GET YOU,’ she says.

‘I – Okay. What’s up?’

I’m not sure I want to know. It has been a very long day already.

‘Dr Hewett wants to see you two on the forward deck,’ Ester tells us. ‘He’s not well. I’m not an expert, but I would say he has diabetes and probably an additional underlying condition.’

Gem and I glance at each other uneasily. The idea that Hewett is ill doesn’t surprise me. He has looked awful since … well, always. Ester doesn’t have much of a bedside manner, but I trust her instincts. She once announced loudly in the middle of lunch that my monthly cramps might not be so horrible if I increased my intake of vitamin B1. For the record, she was right.

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Is that why he wants to see us? Because he’s ill?’

‘No,’ Ester says. ‘I just thought about it, so I said it. He wants to see you because the prisoner is starting to talk.’ She looks at her palms. ‘Also, I have squid slime on me. I’m going to go wash my hands because that seems like the right thing to do.’





Caleb South is zip-tied to a metal folding chair. His wrists are bound behind him, his ankles fastened to the chair legs.

When I see him, my anger tries to harden into a suit of armour, but I’m so exhausted it’s more like a worn-out sleep shirt. It keeps falling away, stretching into an amorphous mass of grief and shock.

Caleb is still in his wetsuit. His mask and hood have been removed, revealing close-set brown eyes and a wedge of blond hair tinged green from chlorine. His broken nose is swelling up nicely. Blood has crusted on his upper lip.

He’s been positioned facing west, so he has to squint into the sun whenever he looks up at Dr Hewett. Dru and Kiya, brandishing their new Leyden guns, stand to either side of the captive. Kiya still looks grumpy from getting electrocuted. Behind Dr Hewett stands Linzi Huang, one of the Orcas.

I’m relieved to see Linzi. It means Dr Hewett is still following standard procedures. An Orca is supposed to be present at all important negotiations. Aside from being the school’s medics, they’re our recorders and witnesses, our school conscience. Having them around tends to keep everybody else on good behaviour. I don’t really think any of my classmates would do something like beat up a prisoner to get information, but, after what we’ve been through, nerves are frayed. Tempers are high.