I check my time stamp for the tenth time in as many minutes, waiting for Astrid and Brenne to emerge from Ferro’s cell. Whatever conversation is going on in there, nothing good can come of it. Vin draws in a breath through clenched teeth to let me know he’s feeling the same way. Then, without warning, he swings at a low-hanging ventilation duct, fist connecting with a loud thwack.

“I know,” I tell him, staring at the impressive dent he just made. “But they have a right to say good-bye. You’d do the same thing.”

He works his jaw but says nothing, and that’s when I realize he’s fuming over more than just a detour to Ferro’s cell. This reaction is too intense. I can practically see the anger rippling off his shaved head in waves.

“What is it? Still mad I wanted you to stay behind?”

“No.” He meets my gaze, shoulders heaving. “It’s not always all about you, Wil.”

“Just spit it out,” I snap. “We might be dead in a few hours. Now’s not the time to hold a grudge.”

“Why in flipping flames not?” His eyes dart around the cabin as if looking for something else to smash. “It’s all lies, anyway! Nothing but lies!”

Now it’s my turn to be confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking” – He unleashes more abuse on the ventilation duct – “about Vineland! My Memories! Everything! They stripped me, man. Just like they did to you.”

It takes a moment for the full impact of his words to hit. Vin’s been stripped. Of course he has. Why would the Founders wipe away my memories and let him keep his? How could I have been so self-centered?

“Are you sure?” I ask, remembering all the colorful childhood stories he’s shared with me over the years. He always made Vineland sound so real. “What about Pelican Beach? Or those kids you used to hang out with… what were their names?”

“Arin and Jace.” He turns and grips the catwalk railing, like he’s trying to crush away the pain. “All fake. Memories planted there to make me believe I had this happy fraggin’ childhood.”

What he’s saying makes sense. I’m sure they would have slipped the same fabricated memories into my brain if Thea hadn’t intervened. Sugar-coated lies to mask the bitter reality of growing up in a Camp. “How did you figure it out?”

“I don’t know,” he admits glumly. “Right after you left us this morning, Thea dropped by for some coffee and we started talking about life before the Academy. She asked me to describe Vineland, so I pulled up the usual memories. Only, this time…” He blinks slowly, like he’s trying to recognize a face in the distance. “Everything seemed different. You know the feeling you get when you wake up from this intense dream? At first, everything seems so real, but then you realize it’s all off.”

I nod, appreciating the analogy.

“Night turns into day” – He snaps his fingers – “just like that. Like someone flipped on a switch. And people appear out of thin air, then vanish or morph into someone else. When you stop to think about it, nothing makes any sense.” He shakes his head in disgust. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it until now.”

I place a hand on his shoulder, wishing I could absorb some of the pain, but the gesture feels so futile. Thanks to our friendship, he’s already sacrificed his future. Now Thea has stolen his past. But why? What did she have to gain by showing him the truth? Once again, I’m left with the uneasy feeling we’re being manipulated. She owes me an explanation.

A rhythmic clanging pulls me out of my troubled thoughts. Footsteps, approaching from the deck above. We’re at mid-ship, near a ladder that rises to the control room, and I tilt my head in that direction just as Lily drops silently into our cabin. She’s followed moments later by Cael, Thea, and four of Kobari’s men, all dressed in dark camouflage. For a tense moment, I flash back to my first encounter with the Aletheians in an ice tunnel beneath York, but then I remind myself we’re on the same side now. At least I hope we are.

“You’re not in battle gear,” Thea notes, her eyes shining like copper in the dim light. “I hope that means you’ve changed —”

“Our minds about going on the raid?” I shake her off. “Not a chance.”

“Then you’d better suit up fast,” Lily warns sourly, “because we’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“Leaving?” I turn to Cael, figuring he’s the most likely person to give me a straight answer. “But I thought we were still hours away from landfall.”

“We are, but…”  His gaze drifts past me to Brenne and Astrid, who just stepped out of Ferro’s cell. “The plan has changed. Kobari did some calculations and decided he can’t risk bringing us any closer than ten miles offshore. Says the coastline’s too treacherous to navigate in a storm.”

When Vin ask why we can’t just wait for calmer weather, Cael reminds him we need the cloud cover to block Gant’s satellite “Eye.”

Astrid sniffs and wipes her eyes before joining the conversation. “So, basically, you’re saying we just lost our ride to Scilla.”

“No,” Cael corrects. “We still have a ride, but I can’t promise you’ll like it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand. “Is Kobari going to load us into torpedoes and shoot us ashore?”

His one-word answer makes my jaw drop. “Close”

*

When we reach the lower deck, Cael’s words finally make sense. I peer through an open airlock, hoping this is some kind of joke. The chamber beyond can’t be designed to hold more than five people. The thought of twelve of us cramming in there to drift through miles of mine-infested water is beyond terrifying.

“It’s called a Mudcrawler,” Cael explains as we take turns inspecting the mini-sub. “Named after the fish that can scramble over small stretches of land. They’re designed to lay power cables along the coastline, so they can handle rough surf.” The interior looks like a toy version of a Silver Wing, with a cramped cockpit up front and two seats with harnesses on each side. No windows. No room to stand. “There’s another Crawler on the port side,” he continues. “We’ll divide into two teams of five.”

“If Kobari won’t risk getting close to land,” Astrid challenges, “then what makes you think we’ll be any safer in these death traps?”

“The Crawlers can glide along the seabed,” Cael answers, dipping his hand to illustrate the maneuver. “Below any mines or submerged obstacles. They’re our best chance of reaching Scilla in one piece.”

“Our best chance?” Astrid eyes him like he’s gone mad. “There must be another way.”

“You can always try Wil’s torpedo idea,” Lily mutters, looking like she’s about to vent steam through her nostrils. “Just hold on tight and I’ll fire you off myself.”

Before Astrid can respond, someone groans behind us and I turn to see Dax, one leg still perched on the ladder. I was wondering when he’d show up. “Come on, ladies!” he chides. “Pull in those claws! You’re on the same damn side.”

“We’ll never be on the same side,” Astrid mutters under her breath.

When Lily snorts in agreement, Dax baits her with laughter. “See, what did I tell you? Common ground already.”

I’ve got to give him credit. He’s united them, all right. Looks like they’re both seconds away from throttling him. Fortunately, Thea changes the subject by asking about the status of the Mudcrawlers.

“Fueled and ready to launch,” he replies, stepping out of the shadows.

“Cutting it a bit close.” Astrid looks Dax over in that critical way I thought she reserved only for me. But then I notice how he’s transformed his appearance. The scruffy beard and braided locks are gone, replaced by a clean-shaven face and neatly cropped hair that I remember from his Academy days.

“Nice look.” Astrid arches a brow. “And what’s with the outfit? Plan on changing in the Mudcrawler?”

“Actually…” Dax trails off and looks past her to Kobari, who just entered the cabin. They’re wearing matching navy jumpsuits. No camouflage. No battlegear.

“You’re not coming,” I finish for him. “You’re here to say good-bye.”

“Good luck, Wilmington.” His smile falters, but only for a moment. “Not good-bye. I don’t believe in those.”

“Well, what about friendship?” Astrid cuts in with a sarcastic bite. “Or loyalty. Guess you don’t believe in those things either.”

“Of course, I do, Sunshine. I just don’t believe in suicide. Besides…” He tilts his chin to Kobari. “Someone has to help Captain K bring this tin whale back to Founder’s Bay. You’re taking half his crew, so the job opportunity kind of fell into my lap.”

If that’s supposed to be a joke, no one’s laughing. Sensing the heavy mood, Dax turns to Cael and wishes him good luck. After they exchange stiff handshakes, Thea follows with a warm embrace, whispering something into Dax’s ear before they separate. Even though I can’t make out the words, it doesn’t look like she’s holding a grudge.

Wish I could be so forgiving. When it’s my turn to say good-bye, I can’t even stand to look at him.

“Don’t give me that attitude,” he grumbles, withdrawing his hand as if I just spat on it. “I’m the one who saved your ass in York. And anyway…” He turns to Astrid. “I never said I was a hero.”

“Don’t worry.” Her hands drop to her hips. “We never thought you were one.”

“Ouch.” He winces as if the words cut him deeply, but there’s no way of knowing whether the reaction is real or just an act. Come to think of it, that’s always been the problem with Dax.

As he leaves with Kobari though, I can’t help but wonder if we’ll ever meet again. He must be thinking the same thing because he stops mid-ladder and glances over his shoulder.

“For what it’s worth…” He gives us a wistful smile. “I hope I’m wrong about the suicide thing. And Sunshine: don’t worry about the Peacock. I’ll watch out for him.”

“You’ll watch out for yourself,” Astrid replies, adding a cold little shrug to let him know just what she thinks of his promise. “Like you always do."

***

© Copyright 2025 graymartin. All rights reserved.