“What’s the sitrep on the weapons systems?” Katrina asked. “We got those figured out yet?”
Eevi let Alexander explain. He let out a sigh, which told Katrina it wasn’t going to be good.
“Like the food, these weapons are old. I’m guessing only about half the cruise missiles will even fire, and some might actually pose a danger to us. Four of the five .50-caliber machine guns are working, but only one of the MK-65 five-inch cannons is working. The one Layla used back at Red Sphere…”
“I wouldn’t say working,” Eevi said.
Alexander sighed. “I believe it fires, but the turret won’t respond to commands.”
“Lovely,” Katrina said. “I was hoping to use that gun to punch a nice hole in el Pulpo’s palace.”
“Let me see what I can do about that,” Alexander said, grinning. “I’ll keep working on it, Cap. Maybe I can get the other one working, too.”
“We still have the laser rifle from Red Sphere; don’t forget that,” Eevi said.
Katrina nodded. She had sent one of the laser weapons up with Les for when Deliverance attacked the Metal Islands, and kept the other here aboard the USS Zion. The weapon’s shoulder stock was sticking out of a bag a few feet from her chair.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“We have two old inflatable boats called Zodiacs,” Eevi said. “The engines are battery powered, and I’ve charged them both. Only time will tell if they hold the charge.”
The ship swayed, and Katrina reached out to steady herself on a station. She wasn’t used to the violent roll and pitch of the open sea. She preferred the sky to this crap any day.
“Good job, everyone,” Katrina said as she dug into her meal.
They ate quietly over the next few minutes. She listened to Jaideep and Vish joke around and share their food. Jed and Sandy were doing the same thing.
Their bond had strengthened in the past week. The two teenagers sat close together, arms touching—close enough to confirm Katrina’s suspicions. The way they gazed at each other removed any doubt. She remembered the way she once looked at Xavier, and it wasn’t much different from what she was seeing in the two young divers in front of her. Sandy smiled as Jed offered her the last chunk of bread from the Hive.
“Anyone wanna swap some bread for this savory guinea pig jerky?” Trey asked. He opened a tin and held it up.
“Sure,” Vish said. He broke off a hunk of crust and tossed it to Trey, who tossed him a strip of jerky.
“So, when are the airships going to meet us at the Metal Islands?” Vish asked as he gnawed at the leathery meat. “And what happens when they do?”
“What the hell do you think is going to happen?” Jaideep said with a sideways glance.
“It depends on whether el Pulpo surrenders,” Katrina said.
“I hope he does for his sake,” Trey said, “or my dad’s gonna rain missiles on him.”
Katrina glanced at Edgar Cervantes, who picked at his food quietly. He looked up but didn’t add his thoughts. He hadn’t said much since losing his cousin, Ramon.
“How are you feeling?” she asked him.
“I’m ready to fight, Captain, but I hope we can get the Cazadores to surrender without damaging the oil rigs. Our people will need a place to go.”
“I still can’t believe this is real,” Sandy said with a wide smile that showed off her crooked teeth. “I’ve always dreamed what the sun would look like.”
“And the ocean,” Jaideep said. “I can’t wait to learn how to swim.”
Vish said, “I’m going fishing and boating. Man, this is going to be—”
Katrina stood up and looked around her at all the youthful gazes full of fear and hope. But she couldn’t lie to them—having grand illusions about what they would find was dangerous.
“This is going to be hell,” she said. “Don’t forget, these people are our enemy, and they have our friends. We will have to fight, one way or another.”
She moved over to the portholes. The billowing mass of clouds flashed from within, and tendrils of lightning licked the water on the horizon. She watched the raging storm like a soldier looking for a weakness in the enemy’s defenses.
Right now, the storm was a bigger threat than all the cannibals in the Metal Islands.
But it was time to stop wishing the storm would weaken. It was time to make a decision.
“We have two options,” she said to her team. “Keep looking for a way around this system to the Metal Islands, or just punch right through it.”
She recalled Captain Maria Ash’s words from when Katrina was still a novice diver.
“Everything has a weakness,” Ash had said to a group of Hell Divers. “Even Mother Nature. Your job is to find it. Your life, and the lives of everyone you know, depends on you facing your fears.”
Katrina had come up with a few of her own mottoes over the years, and one of them seemed to fit the moment.
“The way to paradise is through hell,” Katrina said. “Eat up and get to your stations. We’re sailing through the beast.”
TWO
Michael Everhart sat on a bed in the Hive’s medical bay, looking down at the stump where his arm had been. Dr. Huff carefully peeled back the bandage.
“We have to let it breathe a bit,” he said in his crackly old voice, “and I want to check for infection.”
The oldest doctor on the ship—practically a fossil in Michael’s eyes—sat on a stool and pressed a pair of spectacles down on his nose. After three days of heavy sedation, Michael was finally being weaned off the hard-core drugs. The pain was bad, but all he could think about were his friends.
X, Mags, and Miles were out there, and Michael was eager to get back into the fight. He was beginning to feel like a caged animal here.
Doc Huff muttered under his breath as he slowly scanned the reddened skin on the stump. He had already removed most of the burned skin, and scabs had formed around the open wounds.
Michael tried to gauge the doctor’s reaction to it all. He was ready to get the hell out of the medical ward and back to the quarters he shared with Layla.
“Hmmm, no sign of infection there, but…”
“But what?” Michael asked.
The doctor gently rotated the stump. “Well, that’s… not…” he mumbled to himself, his dewlaps jiggling as he moved his head. “Everything seems to be healing nicely.”
“Great! So when can I get back to work?”
Huff looked up, his goggles steamed from his warm breath. “You are kidding, right?”
“Uh, no.”
The doc laughed nervously at that and continued looking over the injury. “We need to keep you on a schedule of cleaning this twice a day, Commander, and for the immediate future you’re going to be on a daily dose of the gel your team brought back from the surface. Plus painkillers as needed. They will help stop the phantom pains from driving you even crazier than you already appear to be.”
“I can handle them, Doc. I need to get back to work.”
Huff stood in front of the table and folded his arms across his chest, looking at Michael as a disapproving parent might.
“You’re clear of infection right now, but if you want to get one, then by all means, get back to work. It’s your choice. I can’t stop you.”
“Just get me wrapped again, Doc.”
Huff let out a sigh and picked up a vial of the nanotechnology medicine Team Raptor had found in an ITC facility. Michael remembered the raid, two years ago, that had netted the precious meds, but he never thought he would be the one to use it.