“I see you survived,” said Hassan, arms crossed. “I’d like to check your ribs and dressings at the soonest possible opportunity.”
“Was that thing attached to the Scorpion?” asked Alexis, pointing at the foreign device. He’d yanked the crowbar out of it in the lockout chamber, the open wound still dripped with goopy white fluid.
“Yep — this was our culprit,” said Jonah. He unslung the device from his shoulders and dropped it on the chart table for the rest of the crew take a closer look. Without asking, Jonah reached into Alexis’ tool belt and withdrew a ball-peen hammer. He removed his dive watch, set it on the table next to the device, and struck it sharply three times. It shattered into a mess of broken glass and plastic.
“What the hell are you doing?” said Hassan, yanking the hammer from his grasp and handing it back to Alexis before Jonah could do any further damage. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Whatever this thing is, it got into my dive watch and rewrote the decompression tables,” said Jonah, pointing to the device. “Started giving instructions that would have fizzed me up like a Pepsi in a paint shaker. I think I killed it, but I’d recommend keeping it away from anything electronic nonetheless.”
Alexis held a small EM meter over the device, ignoring his explicit instructions. “I’m still reading electronic activity,” she reported. “It’s not disabled — not entirely, anyway.”
“I’m going to take a look inside,” said Jonah. He motioned Alexis to help him hold the device down as he wrapped his bare hands around a shell-like section of the metallic exoskeleton.
Jonah looked over his shoulder as he grunted with exertion. Freya had let herself out of his cabin again. She stood quietly, silhouetted in the bulkhead doorframe as she peered over their shoulders from a distance.
He adjusted his grip and pulled again, slowly bending the metal carapace open to reveal a grotesque, writhing mass of pulsating organs and electronic wiring. The living tissue quivered one last time before sagging.
“My god,” said Hassan. “It… it was alive.”
“Well, that was unexpected.” Jonah scratched his forehead in stunned amazement.
“And super gnarly,” added Alexis, wrinkling her nose. “I can’t believe how ugly it is.”
“You think that’s ugly?” asked Freya from the other side of the command compartment. “You should see its mother.”
CHAPTER 22
Jonah shot a finger across the command compartment, leveling it at Freya. “Start talking,” he ordered. “Start talking right goddamn now.”
Smirking, Freya slumped against the bulkhead, letting her slightly amused stare carefully drift from Hassan to Alexis before finally bringing it to rest on Jonah. She took her time before answering, expression changing as she considered Jonah with a chilling mixture of fury and boredom. The protracted silence lingered, filled only with the smell of the decaying organism and the churning propellers of the still-gathering Japanese fleet above.
“I want to hear your speech first,” said Freya, her voice quiet and hard.
“What speech?”
“The one where you list your demands. Your threats. Your quid-pro-quo. Maybe you’ll try to sweet-talk me into submission, make me promises until one takes. This is a transactional relationship, isn’t it? I got you out of the building. You got me out of the city. Now you need something. Maybe I need something, too. So let’s hear the speech.”
Alexis sat back in her chair, kicking her booted feet up onto Sun-Hi’s dead communications console. “We lose track of who owes who pretty quickly down here in the blue,” she said, arms crossed.
“What, like I’m supposed to believe you’re all friends?” said Freya, letting the final word drip off her tongue like poison.
“Believe whatever the fuck you want,” said Alexis, dropping her feet from the console once more. Her boots landed hard on the deck, their impact ringing throughout the compartment as she leaned forward. “And if it were up to me, you’d get your goddamn speech — I’d tell you to start talkin’ or start swimmin’.”
Freya bared her red-flecked teeth at Alexis, her gums still bleeding from the fight.
“That’s enough,” interrupted Jonah, ending the exchange before it could escalate. “I’ll bite. What do you want?”
Freya pretended to need a moment before answering. “To recognize the primacy of ecology and forever humble the human species,” she said. “To dismantle the suicidal trajectory of resource exploitation and industry — to end social and cultural stratification and destroy all forms of domestication and subordination. I’d like to begin by razing the fossil fuel industry to the ground and hanging every one of their C-level executives, but I’d be willing to start by shooting their bought-and-paid-for lawyers and politicians instead. I’m not picky.”
Jonah shuffled from foot to foot in irritation. He wanted to walk over, grab her by the shirt, physically rip out the information he required of her.
“You seek to bring about an end to modern civilization through environmentalist anarchism,” said Hassan in a clipped, aristocratic tone. “How blindingly trite.”
“I believe in a lasting peace between humanity and the world.”
“Through the perpetration of violence.”
“I subvert violence,” snapped Freya, turning to stare down the doctor.
“Nobody here asked for a goddamn manifesto,” said Jonah. “And in case I wasn’t clear enough the first time… what do you specifically want from me?”
Freya smiled, again showing the blood still running between her teeth. “I want your submarine. And your crew.” Alexis involuntarily snorted with laughter, the sharp sound punctuating the hum of the ventilation system. Ignoring her, Freya tiptoed into the center of the command compartment and gently brushed her hand against the periscope as though measuring a new set of drapes.
“That’s an interesting request,” said Jonah, playing along for the moment. “Does this scenario involve simply stepping aside and pledging my undying allegiance, or should I expect to walk a gangplank of some variety?”
“You should take off that wetsuit,” said Freya dismissively. “I can’t take anything you say seriously. You look like a giant, misshapen condom.”
“Be cautious what you request,” said Hassan. “The captain has developed an unfortunate habit of strutting about in the nude.”
“I’ve got no problem losing the wetsuit,” said Jonah with an ugly laugh. “I’ll just need a minute to change into something you’ll find familiar — maybe a backless hospital gown with my ass hanging two cheeks to the wind?”
Freya’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’ll fight you for it,” she said. “You win, I’ll tell you everything you want to know and more. But if I win, I take your sub and your crew.”
“The crew’s not mine to give—” began Jonah.
Alexis cut in before he could continue. “That’s not how we do things onboard the Scorpion,” she said. “And you’re a couple sandwiches short of a picnic if you think we’re turning the ol’ girl over to the likes of you.”
“So how did he become your captain?” asked Freya, spitting the words at Alexis and Hassan as she gestured angrily towards Jonah. “Was he a dutiful first officer, putting in his time for a meritorious promotion? Did you vote on the best qualified among you? Or did he take it by force?”