Into the Sunken City by Dinesh Thiru

Author:Dinesh Thiru
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

13

The next morning, we’re still in a pile. Thara leaning on my side, Taim’s head in my lap, my back sore from sleeping seated and in restless thirty-minute intervals.

My dreams were a terrifying mess. Visions of Dad and Taim and Thara, all sunk in the deep, unsuited, standing on the ocean bottom with heads blown apart like Saanvi’s and black eels swimming through them, in and out, in and out, until at last one eel swims straight toward me, snake-mouth opening, and then—I’m awake, and the only remnant of the dream is the sick, desperate desire to touch my face.

To make sure it’s still there.

Clouds above. Saanvi.

He didn’t deserve that. He was the first Coconino kid to make it into the Guard in five years. He mentored Taim—took him away from me, maybe, but also helped him toward a better life. Saanvi was a good person. An affinity for gambling, sure, but who doesn’t need a little chance and hope in this bleary world?

The iron bars of our cage press into my back. Taim and Thara are curled up at my sides, breath ragged, sleeping.

Across from me, near the orlop’s foremost ladder, is a young, gangly corsair, Montserrat, slumped in a wishbone chair. He has pale skin, a long neck, and a prosthetic glove bearing mechanical fourth and fifth fingers on his right hand. He dropped off dinner and some brackish tea late in the night. Thara and I fed Taim, then we resumed our pile and let the white noise of the waves wash away all thought.

The overhead hatch flies open, and Montserrat jerks awake.

“Monty?” Silva’s square-toe metal foot is the first thing I see as he steps down the ladder. “You sleeping on my watch?”

Monty jerks up. “Never, Captain. Watched them the whole night.”

Silva leaps down the last four rungs, landing like a bear on ice, all power and certainty. He’s likely going on sixty, but that bionic must give him tremendous lower body strength. People say intelligence officers in the Navy get them sometimes, even if they haven’t lost the leg. An elective job’s as expensive as land is rare, though; I’ve never met someone who did it voluntarily.

Silva sticks a finger under Montserrat’s chin. He’s a good three inches taller than our cell-guard, and he pokes Monty right at the corner of his lips. “You’re drooling, Monty.”

Monty wipes his sleeve across his cheek. “Yes, Captain. Sorry, Captain.”

Silva nods toward the ladder, and Monty climbs up quick. Izzy takes his place, grabbing the rails and sliding straight down. She squints at the three of us, shakes her head, which jingles from the clash of her face rings, and yells at us in her dolphin-pitch, “Get up!” We do, and Izzy cuts all our zip ties.

Then Silva steps forward. “We tossed your friend over last night. Pair of kitefin sharks were glowing their neon blue near the rudder. They tore him up quick enough.”

Taim’s jaw is clenched beside me, but he’s still, and I try not to picture Saanvi’s body in the water.

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