“You’re up early,” Gavin said to the man.
“Lots to do,” the man replied.
“We brought help.” Gavin gestured to Summer. “She’s an expert in submersibles.”
The man put down his brush, wiped his hands on his T-shirt, and approached Summer. He thrust out his hand. “I’m Fred.”
She shook his hand. “Summer. It’s nice to meet you.”
“She’s a beaut.”
Summer blushed, thinking Fred was talking about her.
But Fred gestured to the submarine. “Lemme show you what we got. I could really use your expertise. I was a mechanic but not a submarine builder. Maybe you can tell me if you see any flaws in the design.”
Summer nodded and flashed Javier a look of desperation.
“We found the sub at a scuba center, but it was in bad shape. We’ve had to scavenge parts, and I think it’ll work, but thinkin’ and bein’ sure are two different things entirely, especially when someone’s life’s on the line.” Fred opened the cockpit. “It’s tight in there, only space for one person. We’re paintin’ it for stealth. Gavin found the paint.” Fred gestured to Gavin. “We need some decent batteries if we’re ever gonna launch this thing. Most Puerto Ricans left before Hurricane Zoey in 2042 and, after that, whoever was left was evacuated. So, that’s nine years with whatever batteries were left here, which wasn’t much. With no fuel, all the lead acid car batteries have been sittin’ uncharged. Sittin’ at a partially charged state for nine years has permanently damaged those batteries. Over time, lead sulfate forms on the plates, which ain’t good for holdin’ a charge. It doesn’t help that it’s hot as hell here and wet. All the alkaline and nickel batteries were used up a long time ago too. The rechargeable ones are no good anymore either. The newer solid state lithium ion batteries are our best shot.”
“We haven’t found any of those yet,” Gavin said. “I’ve found a bunch of old lithium ion batteries in cell phones and tablets, but they’re not solid state. None of them hold a charge anymore.”
“You’re supposed to store a lithium ion battery at a 50 percent charge. Of course, with no power, everybody ran ’em dry, and they sat dead for years. Now they won’t hold a charge, at least none of the ones we’ve tried.”
“What about the Netas? They have those electric trucks,” Summer said.
“They also have automatic rifles and thousands of men,” Gavin replied.
“The Netas were the only ones here right after the hurricane,” Fred said. “They looted and hoarded everything they could on this island.”
“We’ll find the batteries,” Gavin said.
“Until then, we’re stuck.” Fred turned his attention back to the submarine. He pointed to a tank mounted on the underside of the craft. “That’s the ballast tank. You open the valve, water rushes in, and the sub dives. It won’t dive real deep.” Fred pointed to the pontoons leaning against the wall. “Those pontoons keep the sub just underneath the surface. As the sub dives, the wings rotate on a hinge, with a stopper that stops when the wings are mostly overhead, and the sub’s about four feet deep. To force the water out of the ballast tank so the sub can surface, I made a compressed air tank from an old refrigerator and a fire extinguisher.”
While Fred explained the ins and outs of the submarine, Summer examined the craft, trying to look like an expert.
“I still have to install the snorkel. My plan is to have a standpipe in the right pontoon that’s connected to the hull of the ship with a blower to force the air in, then another standpipe on the left pontoon for the air to exit. It should be pretty comfortable in there with the air circulation.” Fred pointed to the plastic windows on the cockpit. “Windows are plexiglass. Not as thick as I’d like, but this thing’s not goin’ very deep.” Fred turned from the sub to face Summer. “My big concern is runnin’ out of battery before Roger gets to the Virgin Islands—”
“She doesn’t need to know that,” Gavin said.
Fred waved him off. “Who the hell’s she gonna tell?”
Gavin frowned but didn’t respond.
“We have a map of the Caribbean and an ocean current map, and we did some rough math and figured out that, if we get the batteries we need, this thing’ll get very close, but close ain’t good enough. The open ocean ain’t a great place to go for a swim.”
Summer nodded, then glanced at the pontoons leaning against the wall.
“The pontoons can be attached with two pins. It won’t fit through the door with the pontoons on, so we’ll slap those on right before. My other concern is whether or not the drones might see the floats. My thinkin’ is that the motor is below the water surface, so they wouldn’t see that heat. What do you think?”
Summer cleared her throat. “I’m not sure. I don’t know much about drones.”
“What do you think about my ballast tank? You think it’ll work? We haven’t tried it yet.”
Summer gave the ballast a cursory look and said, “Um, … looks good to me.”
Gavin stared at Summer and said, “You don’t know shit about submersibles, do you?”
“Stop being a dick,” Javier said. “Give her some time to settle in.”
Gavin shook his head. “You lied, Javier. You just wanted to help your friend.”
“Is that so bad?” Summer asked, holding out her hands.
“I knew it.” Gavin glared at Javier. “I’m telling Roger.” Gavin turned on his water shoes and walked away, toward the stairs.
“Come on, man,” Javier said in his wake.
Fred sighed and went back to work.
Javier and Summer followed Gavin up the endless stone steps to the upper section of the fort. At the top of the steps, card tables and plastic chairs were set up in haphazard groups. A few people carried armfuls of fruit outside. Two people came from the stairs, carrying buckets of water. Gavin followed the people outside.
A courtyard was outside, surrounded by stone walls. Tables and chairs were arranged in a neat line. About thirty people sat and ate fruit and dried meat. The group was predominately male, but half-a-dozen women were there too, one holding an infant. Another child, a toddler, sat in a man’s lap at a table.
The men carrying the water filled faded plastic cups. Gavin was greeted with smiles and pats on the back, but Gavin didn’t respond, instead making a beeline for a middle-aged man with gray hair and a stubbly beard. Javier led Summer to the same man.
“She doesn’t know shit about submersibles,” Gavin said to the middle-aged man.
The man swallowed a bit of mango and looked up from his plate to Gavin.
“We gave up a gun for her, and Javier lied.”
“I’m sorry,” Javier said. “She’s my friend. You know what would’ve happened to her.”
The man exhaled and stood from the plastic table. He glanced at what was left of Summer’s pregnancy, then looked her in the eyes. “Why don’t we take a walk? See if we can’t work this out.”
“There’s nothing to work out,” Gavin said.
“She’s a good person,” Javier said.
“They lied.”
Roger glared at Gavin. “You weren’t worth a shit when we bought you. Don’t forget that.”
Gavin opened his mouth to reply but shut it instead.
Roger and Summer walked away from the group to the opposite end of the large courtyard, out of earshot. Roger looked like a beach bum with tan weathered skin, a threadbare T-shirt, shorts, and no shoes.
“I’m Roger Kroenig,” he said with his hand outstretched.