Only then did I dare let my lungs bring me to the surface.

  I bobbed among the choppy waves, sucking in breaths of air, one after the other. The shuttle's mass lay wrecked and twisted twenty yards away, bubbling in the water like a kraken.

  It was a terrible sight, but I was too concerned with breathing to be worried. No breaths of air ever tasted as sweet. I savored that air, made it my total focus. Just the air and nothing else. In and out. In and out. I didn't dare look around me in case another threat was waiting: falling debris, a jagged section of hull, fire, the creature, anything. I just wanted a moment to get my breath. Then, I would take stock.

  If I were being honest, I also felt something else, something new that I had never felt before. Despite the danger and the fiasco of our escape from the alien ship, I felt a strange satisfaction. One I'd never felt before. It was the satisfaction of doing something right, of fighting a good fight. Call it what you want. It felt right. It was liberating. Call it seeing the world for the first time. Call it finally obeying the small voice of conscience within. Call it getting a glimpse of the true world and its ways for the very first time.

  Not the world as the Accord wished me to see it.

  Once I had got my breath back, I gathered my wits. This wasn't easy. I was tired and disoriented. Possibly in shock. First things first, I told myself. One step at a time. The most important thing was to try and find Chen. He had fallen from the shuttle behind me. So he must have hit the water behind me. But with his injured arm, bleeding wounds and inexperience, he probably hit badly. I gave his chances of survival from the fall a fifty-fifty probability. Then, his survival from the shuttle crashing down, another fifty-fifty chance, which meant a less than fifty percent chance of surviving over all.

  'Chen!' I shouted.

  Nothing.

  'Chen!'

  Nothing.

  The ocean sucked all the power from my voice. Each shout seemed to go no further than the next wave.

  'CHEN!'

  Nothing.

  He could have been anywhere--the other side of the shuttle wreck. Or even inside it.

  Or underneath it.

  I swam towards the wreck's largest piece. There was flotsam everywhere, dark black pieces of hull, chunks of decking and bulkhead shards were scattered for hundreds of yards. Maybe Chen was clinging to one of them, unable to answer or even to raise an arm.

  I checked one piece, then another, and another. Hopeless. It would take me hours to check them all. If only the choppers would arrive. From above, they could see everything.

  I stopped and listened for any distant thumping blades.

  Nothing.

  For the time being, it was going to be just me out here, somewhere in the AON China Sea. Me, the sea, and the wreck of the shuttle.

  Then, as if on cue, as if waiting its turn, yet another problem showed up.

  39

  IT WASN'T AN immediate danger, but I thought it might soon become one.

  I stopped swimming and checked my arms, face and legs.

  They were still clothed in the blue NWU, but the cloth was torn and I was bleeding. There were cuts on my legs and my back. My squashed nose was bleeding too.

  Another lesson from the Naval training about survival came back to me: even small amounts of blood in the sea can bring predators. They could sense it from large distances. And the warm water in this sea was home to many species of shark.

  Sharks, I thought. What next?

  The sharks were probably already on their way, I thought. They had told all their friends that there was a feast to be had near the smashed black thing. I expected any second to see shadows circling beneath me.

  Where was the alien rifle? Had I brought it with me when I jumped? Would it float? It would make mince meat of any shark. One shot would obliterate even the largest man eater. If only I had the rifle! Maybe it was floating among the debris?

  What was that noise? The slap of a fin?

  But it wasn't a fin. It was a voice. It came from somewhere beyond the waves.

  'Chen!' I called. 'Chen!'

  'No, Lieutenant,' said the voice.

  I turned around.

  The creature from the shuttle?

  No, it was a boat, a small blue dinghy, riding low in the water. From its stern, the flag of the Accord flew in the breeze--the dove and the rainbow.

  A man wearing an orange life jacket leaned over the side. Then I saw a Navy diver in the water beside me, as dark as a seal. The diver came up so close, we were face to face. Her diving mask was pushed back to the top of her head. Her brow was creased, her mouth was turned down at the corners.

  'Lieutenant Alexander Burns,' said the diver.

  'What?'

  'Lieutenant Alexander Burns?'

  'Yes.'

  'I'm Lieutenant Fran Navarro from the Accord Of Nations Naval Ship Accord Values.'

  'Have you seen Chen--the other guy?'

  'Did you understand me, Lieutenant?'

  'Sure,' I said. 'Sure. Did you see the other guy who jumped? It's Chen from the mission to the Roman mothership. He jumped into the water at the same time as me.'

  I had gone forty-eight hours with no sleep. Maybe my words were slurred and my actions strange. I couldn't make myself understood.

  'Hey!' shouted the diver. 'Eyes on me and nowhere else! You look here, at me. Do you understand? Hey, I won't ask you again.'

  I turned to face this bobbing piece of fury. 'Yes,' I said. 'I understand. Completely. But do you understand me? I'll say it slowly for you. There is someone else in the water, over there where the shuttle sank. It's Andrew Chen from the Roman mission. Understand?'

  'Too late, Lieutenant. You just violated the Navy Spirit Code by disrespecting an officer.'

  'What?' I said. 'You're worried about a stupid code when someone might be drowning!'

  'A stupid code, Lieutenant?' said the diver. 'Is that what you said?'

  I turned away from Lieutenant Navarro, and began swimming back towards the sinking shuttle.

  Three strokes in and I felt the tranquilizer dart hit my shoulder.

  Navarro was soon back in my face.

  She said, 'You can think about how stupid the Code is in the brig, Lieutenant. You're going to have plenty of time.'

  I was back in the world of the Accord.

  Very definitely back.

  40

  'You're a mess,' Lieutenant Burns. 'A real mess.'

  This was spoken by Alexander Burns, the elder, leaning on the quarterdeck taffrail of HMS Vengeance. 'An utter sight,' he said in his bizarre accent. 'Enough to frighten the birds away. What happened to your face? And to your legs? You're not steady on your feet. You look sick. Truly. Mr Collins! Mr Collins, there! Pass the word for the Doctor.'

  When I awoke again, I was lying down. I knew I was still aboard HMS Vengeance but I was below decks, not in a cabin, but in an open area with other patients. The deck above me was very low. And despite sea air drifting in from somewhere, the atmosphere was fetid. It smelled of damp rope, burned flesh, and sweat.

  'Can you talk?' said the ship's doctor, or the man I thought was the doctor, looking down on me. He wore steel rimmed spectacles, and a yellow wig, which was something I'd never seen before. He frowned at me. I blinked at him. Could I talk? I wasn't sure yet. I was in a daze, too worried about what had happened over the last twenty-four hours, and also about what would happen next.

  And what I could do about it.

  I'd had an adventure, traveling to the Roman ship, fighting Goths, drawing the unearned obsession of a powerful alien beauty, causing the death of Le Seaux, causing the death of my mother, possibly of Chen too, and, through my recklessness I had given Octavia the pretext she wanted to launch an attack on Earth, presumably at the Establishment Day ceremony in two days' time.

  An adventure with terrible consequences.

  Another face joined the doctors peering down at me. The second face belonged to a younger man with brown hair and a beard. The doctor's assistant maybe. Both wore white shirts with handkerchiefs around their necks. They didn't look very navy-like. They didn't look very medical either.

  'He's blinking,' said the younger face. 'That's something.'

  'Leave him rest while we see to the others,' said the doctor. The faces withdrew.

  What was I going to do? Part of me wanted to stay here on the Vengeance where no-one could find me. I could heal my wounds and join my ancestor's crew. I could learn real sailing skills and fighting tactics. It would be a new start, and a life at sea, the way I always wanted. But of course, this was all a daydream, a literal daydream, and my plan was a coward's plan.

  I thought about what would be happening back in the AONE. My real self would be in the hospital brig on board AONS Accord Values, drugged with sedatives and who knew what other pills. When I woke up there would be a debriefing into all that had happened. There would be an inquiry too. There would be a court martial. And, despite my warnings about Octavia and the Excidium, the Navy's leaders would ignore them.

  Then I would be humiliated in front of the jeering mob at the morning anthem recital, and sent to Naval prison somewhere out of the way, where I could never cause trouble again.

  And in the meantime, the Accord Commissioners and their defense forces would sleepwalk into an invasion. No, not sleepwalk. They would welcome the invaders--welcome them in the names of tolerance and diversity. That's what the Accord philosophy was all about. In the Accord's way of thinking, there were no enemies except for homophobia, toxic masculinity, climate change denial, and the pre-Accord West's ideas of courage, self-reliance and manliness.

  And so the Earth and its people would be enslaved without so much as a whimper of resistance.

  There must be something I could do to stop it.

  The two faces were back. A third face was there as well. It belonged to the famous Mr Collins from the quarterdeck. I could see his blue coat. He held his hat under one arm.

  'Well, Dr Bradall?' he said.

  'He hasn't said anything since he opened his eyes,' grim-faced Dr Bradall replied.

  'Nothing at all?'

  'Nothing. However, I believe he is aware of his surroundings. As you see, he's following our conversation with his eyes. He's conscious. Can you hear me, Lieutenant Burns?'

  'Yes,' I said. 'I can hear you.' My voice sounded slurred.

  The Doctor looked at his assistant and Mr Collins. Then, he looked back at me. 'Any pain, Lieutenant Burns? Pain?'

  'No,' I said. 'I am very tired. Am I drugged?'

  'What did you say?'

  'Drugged,' I said. 'I was drugged.'

  Dr Bradall turned to Mr Collins. 'Did you understand that?'

  'I think he said he was drugged.'

  'You were drugged, you say, Lieutenant?'

  'Yes.'

  'The Captain would like to see him,' said Mr Collins.

  'The Captain would like to speak to you, Lieutenant Burns, when you're up to it.'

  Good, I thought, because I certainly wanted to speak to the Captain.

  41

  THE DAY PASSED. The deck above me thrummed with the crew's bare feet as they changed each watch. The ship's bell tolled. Night came. The lamps were lit. And HMS Vengeance sailed on.

  And suddenly, I was awake.

  With my fellow patients snoring either side, I slid from my bunk and stood up. My legs were stiff and sore. I had a thumping headache, but I could breathe through my nose.

  I walked to the nearest ladder, climbed through the hatch to the next deck. Then I climbed out onto the top deck itself and limped unsteadily under the great sails towards the stern and quarterdeck.

  I was immediately intercepted by a young midshipman. He was dressed as Mr Collins had been in a giant Navy coat and a cylindrical hat. He was startled by the sight of me, by my modern camouflage uniform, but his sense of duty forced him to confront me.

  'Only officers may walk the quarterdeck,' he said.

  'It's all right, Maitland,' said my ancestor's voice. 'Ask Lieutenant Burns to come up.'

  Lieutenant Maitland stepped aside and I climbed onto the quarterdeck's hallowed boards.

  'How are you feeling?' said Captain Alexander Burns.

  'I've felt better,' I said.

  The bell tolled twice down on the deck. Then there was a pause followed by two more tolls.

  'Four bells,' my ancestor said. 'Four bells in the morning watch. That's six in the morning, if you're wondering.'

  'What did you do to Octavia?' I asked. I said it just like that. I didn't feel the need to play cat and mouse games. Not anymore. If my ancestor could see things in the future, then he could answer a direct question. By his reaction, I had caught him by surprise. He stood to his full height, all six feet four, which in that blue great coat was an imposing sight.

  'That's not the tone to use when addressing a post-captain in His Majesty's Navy,' he said.

  'My apologies,' I said. 'Things have changed since we last spoke.'

  'So it seems.'

  'And four bells in the morning watch is when our encounter ended last time. I might have only a few minutes. So, please, Captain, cut me some slack.'

  He turned to his right. 'Mr Maitland.'

  'Sir?' said Maitland.

  'Step to the fo'c's'le to see if Skerrick has repaired the jib boom.'

  'The jib boom is already repaired, sir.'

  'Well, go and make sure that the repairs are holding.'

  'Aye, sir.'

  When Maitland had clattered away, the older Burns said, 'Now, then.'

  'I will make this as brief as I can. Back in the Accord Era, I am being held in a ship's brig for a list of charges over what happened when I met Octavia, the woman you referred to last time. She, Octavia, is preparing to invade Earth from her vessel, the Excidium and its fleet of ships, supported by hundreds of thousands of heavily armed Marines. Meanwhile, the Accord leaders believe she is a friendly ally. They have even invited Octavia and her senior officers to attend a ceremony on Earth tomorrow, which is when I think she'll begin to invade.'

  'Anything else?'

  'Yes, not that it ranks in terms of importance, but she is obsessed with me. Dangerously, irrationally obsessed to the point of endangering her own crew.'

  'But?' he said, as if he already knew everything, and just wanted me to say it.

  'She says her obsession is because of you. She says she met you hundreds of years before in this era, and that you broke her heart. She can't forgive you.'

  He looked up into the night. He wasn't smiling. Maybe he was thinking how inappropriate it seemed to use a phrase such as broken heart on a warship.

  'She doesn't have a heart,' he said. 'Not a woman's heart. Though she certainly appears to be a woman. There can be no doubt about that, as I'm sure you observed for yourself.'

  'I would ask you what you did to make her so mad,' I said, 'but I don't think I have time. My question is, that knowing what you know about her, what should I do?'

  'It seems you have done plenty already,' he said.

  'I've triggered an invasion, if that's what you mean.'

  'It was going to happen anyway,' he said. 'You are simply the excuse.'

  'That's what I thought.'

  'And this Accord will crush anyone who goes against its foolish ideology, the one that has made your military so weak, and convinced the world to distrust its own eyes and ears.'

  'Yes,' I said. 'I am beginning to see that.'

  'A great crime,' said Captain Burns.

  'Yes, But I have to try to convince them to act, or to at least see the truth, otherwise Octavia will sweep in unopposed.'

  'Then, you already know what you must do.'

  'But I'm just one guy,' I said. 'And I'm in prison.'

  'Then do nothing,' he said. 'Easier that way. Events will happen with you or without you. You'll be no worse than anyone in your Accord.'

  Suddenly a voice shouted from the darkness above.

  'Sail ho!'

  'Where away?' called Maitland's voice from the deck.

  'Port bow, hull down,' called the voice.

  'That will be the Indomitable,' said my ancestor. He looked at me, excitement in his eyes. 'We have found her.'

  'But it's still night,' I said. 'How can the lookout see?'

  'It's not dark up there,' said my ancestor. 'He can see the dawn while we are still in the dark.'

  There was a clatter on the stairs. Mr Collins appeared, removed his hat and saluted.

  'Sir, should we beat to quarters?' he said.

  'Yes, Mr Collins. Beat to quarters.'

  'Aye, sir,' and he clattered down again. 'Beat to quarters!' he yelled. Instantly the ship came alive. Whistles sounded, a drum began to pound, hundreds of feet began thrumming up the ladders.

  My ancestor turned to me.

  'Stay for the battle,' he said. 'I'll enter you into the ship's register as a midshipmen.'

  It was tempting. This world, the pre-Accord world seemed so much better than the Accord of Nations Era. There was so much I didn't know about it.

  A golden glow appeared on the fringes of the horizon. I turned and looked to the port bow. There it was in the distance. The sails of a mighty ship of war blazing white in the sun.

  I turned back to Captain Alexander Burns. He was looking at me. 'You'll find a way,' he said. You're a Burns.'

  'What's the meaning of "Deiseil a-riamh?"' I said.

  'It's the Burns family motto.'

  'What's it mean?'

  'It means "ever ready."'

  'Ever ready for what?'

  'Ever ready for anything important, for the hunt, for the rising tide, and for battle.'

  'And what is the meaning of Excidium?'

  'Now you're testing me on Latin words?'

  'Do you speak it?'

  'I learned it. Everyone does...in this era. The Romans and their history are studied as an example of how a nation is governed. You have never heard about them?'

  'It's forbidden to read pre-Accord history, especially any history from Eurabia.'

  'Now why would that be?'

  'They say it's for our safety, but now I know why,' I said. 'It's because to know the past is to understand the future--and it would reveal all the Accord's lies.'

 

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