The Seraphim Sequence

Chapter 7-2

Sophia entered the command room. Half a dozen crew were monitoring sonar and weapons, including the man who commanded the submarine.

‘Captain.’ She nodded at him.

He had a broad face with pale weathered eyes, silvering eyebrows and a wide lower lip that pulled into a smile.

‘Just call me skipper,’ he said. His southern accent was deep and slow, with a twang from under the Mason-Dixon Line. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes.’

‘Thank you for taking us,’ Sophia said. ‘Not many would.’

The skipper shook his head. ‘I’m not going to judge you for what you’ve done. I don’t have that right.’

‘A lot of people would disagree with you there.’

Including herself sometimes. The more the mainstream media decried her crimes against humanity, the more she was starting to believe it. Lately, it had been wearing her down. In her dreams she was becoming the monster she had been painted. She injected all those women with the Chimera vector and watched them die. Nasira was there too, and the rest of her deceased team. Adamicz as well, the kind old man who had rescued her from the Fifth Column and deprogrammed her. The man who had given her freedom. He watched as she injected the women. The look of disappointment on his face broke her every time.

‘DC saved my life once,’ the skipper said, pacing the narrow gap between the computers on both sides. ‘There aren’t many real heroes left these days. They’re ground to dust before we even know they exist. This world has no place for them.’ He lifted a mug of coffee to his lips and slurped thoughtfully. ‘I’m happy to help good people, Sophia. If I can look back on today and say, I helped those people and they went on to do something good for this world, then I consider myself a lucky old son of a bitch.’

Sophia shook her head. ‘I’ll level with you, skipper. I don’t know if there’s any more good I can do. You might just spend the rest of your lives smuggling me around the world, hiding me from the Fifth Column.’ She picked dirt from under her thumbnail. ‘And somewhere along the line, my ticket comes up.’

The skipper frowned. ‘Well, maybe you’re right. And maybe you’re wrong. We’ll just have to see what destiny has in store for you.’

Sophia shifted uncomfortably on her feet. ‘How did you know we needed to escape so soon?’

‘It’s how we do things. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. We knew from back when the Council pulled you across the hot coals that things weren’t looking rosy. We prepared for the worst, and by damn that was the card we got dealt.’

Sophia heard footsteps down the narrow corridor behind her. She turned to see DC, Damien, Nasira and Benito assembled behind her. She introduced them all, except DC, to the skipper.

Damien took the skipper’s hand when he insisted, enduring what looked like a bone-crushing handshake. ‘Nice to meet you, Captain.’

‘Skipper,’ the man said, shaking Nasira’s hand equally as hard. Nasira didn’t wince. ‘Welcome aboard the Perseus,’ he went on, ‘the Akhana’s only nuclear-powered fast attack submarine.’

Nasira nodded her appreciation.

‘Thank you,’ Benito said.

‘I hope our medical officer is taking good care of your friend.’

‘She did an excellent job,’ Nasira said. ‘Give him a day and he’ll be on his feet and as irritating as always.’

‘You have some serious sonar equipment here,’ Damien said, looking around.

The skipper beamed. ‘That we do, son. Our sonar officer and his assistants here watch everything that comes in.’ He pointed to an array of screens that looked like something from The Matrix. ‘The key here is to listen passively. My people watch the acoustic data and can eavesdrop from miles out. The Perseus is covered head to tail in sonar arrays. We even tow one behind us to watch our blind spot.’ He nodded as he watched the sonar computer displays. ‘She’s a beautiful thing, bless her.’

‘How long is our trip to this other base?’ Damien asked.

The skipper opened his mouth but DC jumped in first. ‘Seven days, give or take two. Depends on what other craft we encounter along the way. We need to travel unnoticed and avoid anyone else’s sonar, so that means taking a time-consuming arc around anything in our path.’

The skipper moved between Damien and Sophia, coffee mug in hand. ‘Since you’ll be stuck for a week with us sons of bitches, pardon my language, it would be remiss of me not to give you a tour. Come through. It won’t take long.’ He laughed at his own joke.

Damien echoed with some nervous laughter that almost made Sophia laugh.

The skipper ferried them into what looked like a small diner. Sophia counted eight booths, one counter and two fire extinguishers. Only one of the booths was occupied with crew members.

‘This here’s the crew’s mess,’ the skipper said. ‘Did I mention we have excellent food? Four meals a day: breakfast, lunch, dinner and midrats.’

‘Are you eating rats?’ Benito asked.

‘Midnight rations,’ Nasira said.

‘You can fit everyone in here to eat?’ Damien said.

‘You bet. This shindig usually runs on shifts, but since we’re now a skeleton crew and we’re not fitted for weapons, we clock in at less than half. Forty-two crew.’ He grinned. ‘You can squeeze ’em all in here at once if you have the need, but we run on eight-hour shifts, three cycles a day.’

He moved back into the narrow corridor, with DC following first, then Damien, Nasira and Benito. Sophia fell into line behind them, smirking to herself when a hatch pried DC’s sword from the magnets on his back.

Above the crew’s mess was the sleeping quarters, which the skipper referred to as ‘berthing’. Bunk beds lined the walls, stacked three high and concealed only with blue curtains. The corridor through the bunks was so narrow Sophia had to walk sideways so her shoulders wouldn’t hit the beds.

‘We have over a hundred berths,’ the skipper said. ‘Only half are taken, just make sure you pick an empty one. There’s a locker under each mattress.’

Sophia pulled the curtain back on one bed, and found a man sleeping, his mouth agape. One hand was curled around a copy of the Akhana’s survival guide for humans, which Owen Freeman had written several years ago. The book contained much of his research on psychopathy but was only ever disseminated to the Shadow Akhana. She closed the curtain slowly.

‘Everyone onboard, you can trust,’ the skipper told her. ‘As much as you trust DC.’

Sophia smiled. ‘No offense, skipper, but I’ll take that with a grain of salt.’

‘Whatever keeps you alive, ma’am.’ He turned around so everyone behind him could hear him clearly. ‘I have clothes for y’all to change into. You’ll find them on the bunks at this end. They’re comfortable and you’ll thank me for it later. Shoes are in the trunk at the end—help yourselves, we have all sizes. Dinner in fifteen, don’t be late.’