The Swarm

Li

She ran up to the hangar deck, panting for breath. The bay was shrouded in smoke. She stared at the sooty clouds, trying to discern what lay beyond them.

Then she heard the voice: 'Sam? Samantha Crowe?'

Was that Anawak shouting?

There didn't seem much point in killing him now. Besides, the bow's remaining bulkheads might give way at any moment. The vessel was in danger of splitting, and when that happened, the Independence would go down in seconds.

She ran to the ramp and peered into a smoke-filled cavern. Her stomach turned. Li wasn't easily scared, she wasn't cowed by the need to go down there, but if she let go of the torpedoes, they'd end up in the water.

She edged down the ramp, feet turned sideways, taking one small step at a time. It was dark and oppressive and the smoke was smothering her. The soles of her boots made empty clunking noises on the metal.

All of a sudden she lost her balance and sat down with a thud, legs stretched out in front of her. Still clutching the torpedoes, she slid painfully over the uneven surface of the ramp. The ridges hammered against her spine and the water rushed towards her.

The ramp fell away and she splashed down, then surfaced, gasping for air.

She still had the torpedoes.

A muffled groan shook the tunnel walls. She pushed off and swam through the passageway, round the corner and towards the well deck. The water wasn't as cold as she'd expected. It must have come from the basin. The lights had gone out in the tunnel, but the well deck had its own power supply. She could see it getting brighter ahead. As she got closer she could make out the outlines of the jetties sticking up into the air, then the stern gate looming menacingly over the basin, and two submersibles, one of which was dangling at the height of the jetty.

Two submersibles?

Deepflight 2 had vanished.

And someone in a wetsuit was balanced on Deepflight 3. Johanson.

Flight Deck

Apart from supplying Crowe with cigarettes, the Pakistani cook wasn't proving very helpful. Huddled wretchedly at the far end of the stern, he was in no fit state to make plans. Her own attempt had been no more successful. She stared helplessly at the raging flames. Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of giving up. As someone who'd spent decades listening for signals from space, the idea of resigning herself to death seemed absurd. It just wasn't an option.

All of a sudden there was a thunderous bang. A fiery cloud spread over the island, crackling and bursting like a firework display. Powerful vibrations shook the deck, then plumes of flames shot out of the inferno, stretching towards them.

The cook screamed. He jumped up, took a step backwards, stumbled, and toppled over the side. Crowe tried to grab his outstretched hands. For a split second he steadied himself, face twisted with fear, then fell. He hit the rising stern gate, then disappeared. Crowe heard a splash, drew back from the edge in horror, and glanced around.

She was surrounded by flames. Everywhere around her the asphalt was burning. It was unbearably hot. Only the starboard quarter had escaped the shower of fire. For the first time she was seized with real despair.

The heat forced her to retreat. She ran to the starboard quarter and continued along the side.

Past the equipment for the elevator.

What now?

'Sam?'

Great, now she was hearing things too. Or had someone just called her name? Impossible.

'Sam Crowe?'

Someone was calling her name.

'I'm over here,' she veiled.

Where was the voice coming from? There was no sign of anyone on the flight deck.

Then it dawned on her.

She leaned cautiously over the edge and saw the outline of the platform, tilting towards the sea.

'Sam?'

'I'm here! Up here!'

She was screaming her heart out. All of a sudden someone ran on to the platform, looking up at the deck.

It was Anawak.

'Leon!' she called. 'Leon, I'm up here!'

'Jesus, Sam.' He stared up at her. 'I'll come and get you.'

'How?'

'I'll run up.'

'There's nowhere left to run,' she shouted. 'It's a mass of flames; the island, the flight deck, everything.'

'Where's Murray?'

'Dead.'

'We've got to get out of here, Sam.'

'Thanks for pointing it out.'

'Can you jump?'

Crowe stared down. 'I don't know.'

'Do you have a better idea that might work in the next ten seconds?'

'No.'

'We'll escape in a Deepflight.' Anawak stretched out his arms. 'Just jump. I'll catch you.'

'Forget it, Leon. You'd be better off standing to one side.'

'Come on, Sam. Stop talking, start jumping.'

Crowe cast a final look over her shoulder. The flames were licking towards her. 'OK, Leon, here goes.'

Well Deck

Where the hell had Anawak got to? The submersible rocked gently on the water. Johanson crouched on top of it. There was nothing in the darkness to indicate the presence of the yrr. Why would there be? It wasn't as though an attack would be necessary. All they had to do was bide their time and wait for the vessel to sink. In the end they'd humbled even the mighty Independence. The five minutes were up.

Strictly speaking, he could go. There'd still be a submersible left for Anawak and Crowe.

But if Anawak returned with Crowe and Shankar, they'd have to use both boats. He couldn't leave.

Under his breath he started humming Mahler's Symphony No. 1.

'Sigur!'

Johanson spun round. Pain stabbed through his upper body, preventing him breathing. Li was standing behind him, level with the boat. Two slim cylinders lay beside her on the jetty. She was pointing a gun at him.

'Come down from the boat, Sigur. Don't force me to shoot.'

Johanson grabbed the chain attaching the Deepflight to the rack.

'Move.'

'Are you threatening me, Jude?' He gave a dry laugh as he tried to think. He had to delay her. He needed to improvise – to stall her, keep her talking until Anawak arrived. 'Well, I wouldn't shoot if I were you. Not if you're planning on using this sub.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'You'll see soon enough.'

'Explain yourself.'

'All these explanations are tedious, don't you think? Come on, General Commander Li, don't be shy – shoot me now and find out later.'

Li hesitated. 'What have you done to the boat, you goddamn jerk?'

'You'll never believe this,' Johanson struggled to his feet, 'but I'm actually going to tell you. In fact, I'll even help you fix it providing you'll explain yourself to me!

'There's no time.'

'Uh-huh. That's awkward.'

Li glared at him. She lowered the gun. 'Ask away.'

'Oh, surely you know the question already. Why?'

'Do you really have to ask?' Li snorted. 'Why don't you use that high-powered brain of yours? What do you think the world would do without America? There's only one enduring model of national and international order that works for every individual in every single society, and that's the American one. We can't allow the world to solve this problem. We can't allow the UN to solve it. The yrr have inflicted untold damage on humanity, but their stock of knowledge and understanding could be even more deadly. Who would you like to see inherit that knowledge, Sigur?'

'Those most competent to deal with it.'

'Exactly.'

'But that's what we were working towards, Jude. Don't we want the same things? We could reach an agreement with the yrr. We could-'