Ghosts

SEVEN

Captain Leon Jordan leaned over the table in the empty conference room and took in a breath through his nostrils. The emergency sirens and the shouts of his crew had died away. He used the quiet to gather his thoughts.

The blisters on his hands stung from the sweat. That was what happened when you gripped wooden spokes for hours. The splinter that had pricked his palm didn’t help. He was the twenty-second captain to bleed and sweat behind the oak wheel. If things ever calmed down, he was going to have Rodger sand it smooth and apply a new coat of varnish.

He reminded himself how lucky he was. The rudders were fixed, the ship was clear of the storm, and Magnolia’s snooping was no longer a problem. Her death was an unfortunate accident. There would be those who disagreed with his decision to keep the turbofans going, but now he was faced with another major decision: Should he risk more Hell Divers on a mission to check out the coordinates of the Hilltop Bastion and keep his promise to Katrina, or keep flying south in search of parts and fuel cells?

A rap sounded on the door. He sat up straighter and flattened the wrinkles on his uniform as Katrina walked in and closed the door behind her. She was wearing an expression he knew all too well. The crow’s-feet around her green eyes were more pronounced when she was angry.

“Captain, Commanders Everhart, Weaver, and Bolden are on the way here with their teams. Ensign Hunt has the ship on autopilot. We’re currently sailing through clear skies.”

“I know you’re upset,” Jordan began.

Katrina tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Magnolia was my friend, and now she’s probably dead. And for what?”

“For what? Really?” Jordan knitted his brow and clasped his hands behind his back. “For the sake of the child inside you. For every life on this ship. She was a loose cannon, Katrina. You know that. It’s not my fault she fell. She almost killed the other divers, too!”

“No, she cut herself free to save them.”

He hadn’t realized that Magnolia sacrificed herself to save Michael and Layla. It was an odd choice for someone that seemed obsessed with self-preservation, and also an honorable choice. But there was no denying she was also a thorn in his side and always had been. Magnolia had started her tumultuous career as a Hell Diver after she was caught stealing. Like many other citizens of the ship she was given a choice—spend her years in the brig, or spend her years diving.

Jordan sighed inwardly. Giving her life so Michael and Layla could live was a noble sacrifice and was the best gift Magnolia could have given the ship. It solved Jordan’s problem, and it kept two of the best divers alive.

“You could have shut off the turbofans when Commander Everhart asked you. We still would have cleared the storm.”

Jordan did his best to remain calm. This was why officers weren’t supposed to sleep together. He was no longer just her captain, and she was no longer just his XO.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out for her hand.

“Don’t apologize to me!” She jerked her hand back and rested it on her stomach. “I know you didn’t like her.”

He reached out hesitantly and touched Katrina’s arm.

“I did what I thought was best, and I would do it again if I thought it would save the ship and our baby. That’s why Captain Ash handed the reins to me. She trusted me to make decisions like this. If I let my emotions get in the way, we would have crashed a long time ago.”

Katrina’s lip quivered, and she looked away, tears welling in her eyes. A knock on the door snapped them both back to attention. She turned her back and wiped the tears away as Jordan opened the door.

The bridge beyond the conference room was dim, but he could clearly see the disconcerted looks of Hell Divers standing on the platform outside the room. Every diver on the ship had shown up. At the front stood Michael, shoulder-length blond hair pulled into a short ponytail. His blue eyes radiated anger. He was breathing like a wild animal ready to attack.

The militia soldiers on the bridge looked in Jordan’s direction, but he refrained from calling them over. He could handle the divers on his own. Never in the history of the Hive had a Hell Diver and a captain had anything more than words.

“Come in, Commander Everhart,” Jordan said curtly. “Bolden and Weaver, too. The rest of you can wait…” He trailed off as he saw Xavier Rodriguez—grizzled beard, square jaw clamped shut. He stood at the end of the line of divers, his crazed eyes locked on Jordan. He had come at last for his revenge.

Jordan shut his eyes for a second.

When he opened them again, Rodger Mintel stood where X had been a moment ago.

The vision sent a chill up Jordan’s spine. He often saw ghosts in his dreams, when X came to kill him in his sleep, but this was the first time Jordan had seen him while awake. Would he start seeing Magnolia’s ghost now, too?

“Sir,” Katrina said. “Should we get started?”

Jordan clenched his jaw. He was losing his edge. He had to maintain control.

“Yes,” he said, more abruptly than he had intended. He saw the hurt and anger in Katrina’s eyes, but he couldn’t apologize now. Couldn’t afford to look weak in front of the Hell Diver commanders.

He moved to close the door, but Michael stopped him by pressing his palm against it.

“Layla deserves to be here, Captain.”

Michael held Jordan’s gaze for a tense moment. The younger man was shorter by half a head, but his shoulders were broad and there was something in the set of his jaw. Jordan quickly calculated the possible outcomes of this scenario. If he forced a confrontation with Michael, the other divers would choose sides, exposing Jordan’s weak position.

Jordan stepped aside a fraction of an inch.

Layla stepped inside, and he shut the door behind her. He strode over to the seat that Ash had sat in before him. Katrina took a seat to his right, and Weaver took the chair next to his, but Layla, Michael, and Andrew remained standing.

“I’m very sorry about Magnolia,” Jordan said.

“All due respect, but screw that, Captain,” Michael said. “An apology isn’t going to bring her back. What I want is a search party to make sure she’s really dead, or to bring her back if she survived.”

“If she made it past the turbofans, she could have reached the surface,” Layla said quietly, almost as if she herself didn’t believe it. “Is it possible…?”

Jordan looked to his XO. Katrina shook her head. “We haven’t confirmed her death, but we aren’t picking up a beacon or any transmissions.”

Weaver laced his fingers together and bowed his head. “If we haven’t heard from her by now, then we all know she didn’t make it.”

A voice of reason, Jordan thought. He nodded at the ship’s senior diver.

“No,” Michael said, “we don’t. The electrical storm could be messing with the signals. It happens all the time. You know that, Weaver.”

“I want to believe she could be alive,” Weaver said. “I was hard on her, but I cared deeply for Magnolia. But I just don’t see how she could have made it past the turbines. And even if she did, the storm would have finished her.”

“I didn’t hear or see anything after she got sucked under the ship,” Michael said. “How about you, Layla?”

Layla, defiant, folded her arms across her chest. “Nope.” Her voice was louder this time.

“And no one else did, either,” Michael said. “You have to send a team down there to look for her. Every single one of the divers has already volunteered.”

“We have to try,” Layla said. “I’m with Michael.”

Andrew nodded. “Least we could do, Cap.”

Katrina cracked a smile and didn’t bother hiding it from Jordan.

“I hate to be the old man here,” Weaver said, “but we need to be cautious. The radiation levels in this area are sky high, and there will be creatures down there. We know that from the transmission.”

“What transmission?” Michael asked.

Jordan pushed the captain’s chair away from the table and put his palms flat on the surface again. “Listen, I know losing Magnolia is incredibly difficult for everyone. She was one of the best. Her final act was a truly noble sacrifice. She’s a hero.”

“No,” Michael said. “She’s a Hell Diver. That’s what we do. You’d know that if you ever left—”

“Watch yourself,” Jordan said. “I’ve been helping keep this ship in the sky since the days when you were wearing a tinfoil hat.”

Layla and Andrew stood behind Michael, their expressions thunderous. Weaver looked between the two groups and slowly ran two fingers over his gray handlebar mustache.

“What transmission?” Michael asked again. His voice was calm, steady, but Jordan could see he had gotten under the diver’s skin with the last jab.

There was no way to avoid telling them now. Better to let them in on part of the truth than risk their digging into the rest of his secrets. “A few hours ago, Ensign Hunt picked up a radio transmission from the surface. It was a distress call from someplace called Hilltop Bastion.”

Layla reached over and grabbed Michael’s hand. The gesture made Jordan glance in Katrina’s direction. She still wouldn’t look him in the eye. Instead, she leaned over the table and activated the monitor. A holographic display emerged over the table. She typed at the keyboard, and a topographic map of Charleston spread over the white surface.

Michael, Layla, and Andrew all took seats and studied the blue contour lines that described the location of Hilltop Bastion.

Jordan couldn’t believe he was considering a mission to scout the coordinates. He tried to keep his face expressionless as he cut in before anyone could ask the questions he knew were coming.

“Captain Maria Ash listed the settlement as one of many potential areas where there could be survivors. But we all know, the odds are next to nothing. We’re talking two hundred and sixty years, folks. No one could survive on the surface that long.”

“We’ve been in the air that long,” Michael said. “What makes you think people couldn’t survive underground if we can up here?”

“Because we don’t have monsters in the sky,” Jordan replied. He nodded at his XO. “Go ahead and play the audio file, Katrina.”

She typed in a command, and the wall speakers crackled.

“This is Governor Rhonda Meredith of the Hilltop Bastion, requesting support from anyone out there. The—”

Static.

“We’re low on food and ammunition. We can’t keep them back much longer. Please, please send support to the following coordinates…”

Jordan raised his hand, and the audio stopped.

“Ensign Hunt was able to decipher the rest of the message and provide the coordinates,” Katrina said, “but we have no idea how old this SOS is.”

“Even if the people are gone, this place sounds like a potential treasure trove of supplies and fuel cells,” Layla said.

“And potential threats.” Jordan looked at each diver in turn. “You heard the audio. Something was trying to get in.”

He gave the team leaders a moment to digest the information, hoping they would change their minds about the mission. But he could see they were ready to climb into their launch tubes.

Michael and Weaver exchanged looks. “Worth a shot,” the older diver said.

Jordan stood and pulled on his cuffs. Everyone else stood up in unison.

“I’ve made my decision,” he said. “I’ll agree to send two—and only two—divers to the surface to scout the facility for supplies.”

“I’d like to volunteer, sir,” Michael said immediately. “I can look for Magnolia while I’m down there.”

“Then I’m going, too,” Layla added.

Jordan shook his head. “That’s precisely why I’m sending Weaver and Bolden.”

“Sir, please,” Michael said. “It’s the right thing to do. If there’s even a small chance that Magnolia could still be alive, then we have to look for her. Like we should have done for X.”

Jordan glanced at Michael. Was that a dig to pay him back for the foil-hat comment, or did Michael actually know something about X?

“I saw X die,” Weaver said. “So did Magnolia and Katrina. You think we didn’t do everything we could?”

Katrina hugged herself, her eyes shining.

“I know…” Michael said, his voice trailing off.

Jordan scrutinized the young man for a second. He could read people well, and his instincts told him that Michael didn’t know anything.

“I can’t risk you two going on a futile search for Magnolia. She’s dead. So is X. The dead don’t come back. Is that understood?”

The room fell silent, the words stinging everyone in it. Jordan cursed himself. He had slipped, and badly. He had to mitigate the damage he had just caused with his insensitive words.

“If Weaver picks up her beacon after he lands,” Jordan said, “then he has permission to look for her. But that is not the primary mission. We’re already on an energy curtailment, Commander. Weaver’s priority is to find fuel cells.”

“With all due respect—” Michael began again.

Jordan held up his hand. The diver might not wear his ridiculous tinfoil hat anymore, but he was still barely more than a child. “Commander Everhart, I recommend that you not finish that sentence.”

“I’ll check out the coordinates, Captain,” Weaver said. He scratched at his gray mustache. “If there are supplies down there, I’ll find ’em.”

“Good.” Jordan looked toward the door and said, “Dismissed.”

Michael was the last to leave. He hesitated in the doorway.

“That is all, Commander,” Jordan said.

“Captain, I’m talking to you man to man here. Do you promise me that if Weaver finds her beacon, he can search for her?”

“I’m a man of my word,” Jordan said with a brusque nod.

“Thank you, sir,” Michael said.

He shut the door, leaving Jordan alone to contemplate the mission. As Captain, Jordan prided himself on his word, and on keeping the secrets that kept the ship in the sky. Sometimes, those things conflicted, but not today. Weaver was welcome to search for Magnolia, but he wouldn’t find her alive.