Maybe he still would, if they’d take him. Sail the seas, see the rest of the world, protect England from its enemies. Maybe, if he did well enough, he’d progress to sailing through space on one of the Navy’s starships, and taking the fight for humanity’s future out among the stars.
But a job was at least a year away. He had to finish school, first. Get good grades that would make him stand out from the other boys. Learn some skills that would be useful in life.
If he could stand it for that long without going crazy.
Two of the destroyer’s small turrets slowly turned toward them. The ship’s siren whooped. They were close enough.
Logan climbed to his feet beside Jason, swung his arms above his head, and yelled.
“Hey, Navy!”
The sirens whooped louder and longer. Logan laughed and swung his arms harder and faster as Jason grabbed the tiller, then turned the nose of the dinghy away from the destroyer. The dinghy bobbed up into the air as it hit the destroyer’s bow wake, then it slid down the far side of the wave, still turning away, back toward the green coast of England.
Logan slumped down beside Jason, still laughing.
Jason glanced over his shoulder, at the receding destroyer. “You’ll get us killed one day.”
“Come on. It’s just a bit of fun.”
Dark clouds were rolling in from the east, anyway. Grey spots appeared on the wood of the dinghy’s hull as the first of the raindrops fell. It was time to go home.
They tied up the dinghy at the marina, to the three-metre-thick plasteel quay that protected the boats from the winter storms. Then strolled home in the drizzle through narrow streets between white-walled buildings in the Old Town, and past the tall, dark walls of the gated management communities near the shore. The armour-clad guards at the gates glared at the boys as they passed. Logan raised his hand to wave at them, but Jason grabbed it and pulled it down. Maybe he had taken enough risks for the day.
A car was parked in their street, outside the door that led to the stairs to Logan’s parents’ apartment. The car was wide and black, with six wheels and six doors, maybe seven or eight metres long. He’d never seen a car in their street before. And now a huge one was parked right outside where he lived.
“What is that thing?”
“Dad would know,” Jason said. “I think it’s a Bentley. One of those new ones, with fusion engines.” He smiled, as though imagining himself driving one. “It could probably drive right round the world and back… and keep on going.”
“Then what’s it doing outside our door?”
“You got some relative in the toffs I don’t know about?”
“Closest thing I know to a toff is your dad. And you didn’t mention him getting promoted.”
The black paint on the car’s flowing bodywork shone as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. Reflected sunlight glittered from the raindrops that slowly rolled over its curves, before sliding down to the moss-strewn, cracked tarmac of the road below. The car’s windows were small, and the glass dark, but something was moving behind them.
Logan leaned toward the side window as he approached the door to the apartment, and peered inside. An old face stared out. The hair was black, with faint touches of grey around the edges. The forehead was wrinkled, above small, dark eyes that stared at him for a second, before they turned away.
Logan recognized that face. He’d seen it at the work’s party the weekend before.
The man had been there with the factory bosses. Some big-shot, they said, who worked for the government in London. The man had spent some time talking to the people there, and handing out prizes at the end of the party to those who’d won the competitions and games during the day.
Logan’s sister Alice had won the dance contest. She’d smiled so proudly as the parents and kids clapped for her while she walked to the front of the crowd, to collect her prize from him. Now it sat on the shelf above the old fireplace in the living room of their apartment.
He seemed like the kind who’d have a big car. Those big government bosses could have anything they wanted.
But what was he doing there?
Logan’s heart thumped faster than it had when facing the navy ship. Nothing good could come from a toff showing up at their house.
“See you at school,” Jason said. He nodded toward the car. “Give me all the gossip in the morning, right?”
Logan placed his palm on the handprint scanner beside the apartment door, and glanced back toward the car. The toff was ignoring him now.
The scanner buzzed, and the door clicked open. Logan closed it behind him, walked past the door to the ground floor apartment where the Miltons lived, and climbed the stairs to his apartment entrance on the first floor.
Voices came from inside, but muffled by the wooden door beside the coat rack. He hung his coat on the hooks, where his mother always told him to leave it to keep the dirt of her clean floor, then slapped his hand on the scanner beside the door, wiped his shoes on the mat, and stepped in.
Feet tapped on the wooden floor of the living room. Alice paced from side to side, staring at the faded, brown floorboards that lay between the ratty sofa and their father’s armchair. Her long grey skirt swung around her legs with every step.
Logan peered past her, through the wooden door frame set in the flowery wallpaper of the living room wall, into the small kitchen beyond. The dim sunlight shining through the kitchen window illuminated their father’s face, as he sat at the table they used for cooking.
Their mother sat beside him, with her hand wrapped around his. On the far side of the table sat a man with greying hair, dressed in a black suit with thin white stripes. A dark, leather-clad attache case leaned against the side of his chair.
Another suit stood beside the window, leaning on the counter by the sink with his thick, muscular arms crossed over his chest. He glanced toward Logan with dark, staring eyes, and hard-set, scowling lips.
Logan turned, and looked away.
Then moved closer to Alice, so he could whisper.
“What’s going on?”
“Mum and Dad have visitors.”
“Did you see that car outside? Did they come in it?”
Alice nodded.
The grey-haired man leaned over the table, closer to their parents. “Your daughter, Mrs McCoy, will have the best that money can buy.”
“Best of what?” Dad said.
“The best of everything that life can offer, Mr McCoy. Mr Morgan wishes her to be happy in his employment. She will be treated very well.”
“So long as she spreads her legs for him?”
“So long as your daughter performs all her duties to Mr Morgan’s satisfaction, she will be rewarded appropriately. We are proposing a mutually beneficial arrangement for everyone involved.”
Alice continued pacing. Logan grabbed her arm, and pulled her to a stop. “What are they talking about?”
“You remember that man from the party? Morgan? The one who gave me the prize?”
Logan nodded. “Yeah, he’s waiting outside, in the car.”
Alice blushed, and looked down at the floor. She didn’t say anything for a while. Then she glanced toward the kitchen, and bit her lip before she whispered to Logan. “That’s Morgan’s lawyer. Morgan wants me to work for him.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? You can get away from here.”
She turned away from him, and crept across to the wooden staircase that led up to the bedrooms in the attic. She slumped down on a step, and pulled her legs up against her chest.
She wrapped her arms around them, and rested her chin on her knees. “I suppose.”