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Authors: Mark Charan Newton

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BOOK: The Reef
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‘Nonsense, Santiago. What crap are you peddling-?’

‘You see,’ Santiago said, ‘the decent painter or composer, will always present to you, in their work, a perfect woman. The ... joke ... that they all share is that the woman will only,
can only,’
he waved a finger in the air, ‘exist in their work.’

‘Not sure I follow.’ The rumel lay down on Santiago’s bed, placed his glass of gin on the floor.’

‘You see, they are creating someone that they want to taunt the viewer with. One where you can’t see the faults. Specifically unavailable to the likes of anyone. In fact, they may do it to point it out to us that they do not at all exist in the real world. Point being, is that
one
should not even be looking for such a thing. Of course, it makes for a painful life back in said real world. Mark my words. Manolin thought his last wife was, as you say, perfect. Look what happened there.’

‘Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,’ Jefry said. Santiago focus sed on the rumel. ‘Why did you never slap the boy? I was expecting you’d at least do that.’ ‘I wanted to, no doubt about it. I wanted to kill him, beat him into a pulp. But I’m not like that. I might not be too bright, but these things I like to give a good think to.’

‘And ... ‘

‘What was the real problem, in your mind, Santiago?’

‘The old lecherous serpent of lust rising in the lad?’

‘No, no. That weren’t it. If you trace it, Yana gave in to him. I had to think why my wife would want to do that. She’s never done it before-’

‘Don’t trust ‘em, that’s what I say. She may have.’

‘Just why do you hate women so much, DeBrelt?,

‘I don’t
hate
them.’

‘Sounds like you do,’ Jefry said. ‘When was the last time you were with one, you know,
with
one?’ Santiago was silent for a few moments. ‘A while, admittedly. Doesn’t help being out here.’

‘True. But when?’

Santiago sighed. ‘I slept with a prostitute once last year. Wasn’t even worth the money, miserable sow.’ Jefry said, ‘Why’re you paying for it?’ ‘Well, it isn’t easy at my age.’ ‘Damn it, man. They aren’t a commodity. You don’t select one, like you would a piece of fruit. I think that’s why you never settle.’

‘Man’s not meant to. Philosophically -’

‘Bollocks. A man is meant to settle and build a family. Only a man stands by his family. A man doesn’t cruise from girl to girl. Not a real one. Don’t use your philosophy to cover up what’s no more than a weakness of character.’

‘If I was less drunk,’ Santiago said, ‘I’d say that was fighting talk.’

‘Shut up and don’t be stupid,’ Jefry said. ‘Stop trying to prove yourself to be a man. Just be one. I reckon you need to see women as companions, not something to stick your dick in when you feel like it.’

‘Anyway,’ Santiago said. ‘If you were a man, you would’ve at least slapped Yana. I would’ve slapped my woman if she’d done to me what she’d done to you. Sleep with another.’

Jefry shook his head. ‘You’re outdated, DeBrelt.’

Santiago said, ‘What? You think that they ought not to be beaten for doing that?’

‘Damn it,’ Jefry said. ‘The only time you should hit a woman, Santiago, is if it’s necessary only in foreplay, and she’s asking you to do it for kicks. That’s the
only
time you should not be a gentleman. And you don’t need to hit anyone.’

Santiago sighed, stood up. ‘Well I can see my thoughts are not sharp enough for tonight. Ignore most of what I’ve said. Complete bollocks.’

‘I know.’

‘Right-to bed.’ Santiago turned and grasped the doorknob for several seconds. Eventually he opened it and walked away, sliding against the walls of the corridor every now and then. A minute later he returned to the room, the door still open. ‘Jef, this is my cabin.’ ‘Wondered when you’d notice.’ Jefry stood up and walked past Santiago, patting him on the shoulder.

Santiago slumped on his bed and could feel it still warm from the rumel. It was an odd sensation. He was not used to warm beds, and it took him a while to fall asleep.

DeBrelt’s crew conducted the same surveys as on Arya. There were geological and biological profiles. Becq continued sketching. For several days, they did their work, collecting specimens, building a bank of information. The weather was the same every day-intense sun, little wind. They swam, ate, taking a great effort to relax in the cool evenings.

On the eighth night on the island, Santiago had rowed ashore from his ship. He wanted an evening stroll. He could see the white sands and the shadows from the bright moon. There was not as much noise on Samekh as Arya. There were fewer birds and arthropods in the forest. The sea, too, seemed gentler. There were no conversations between natives here, not that he ever had many on Arya.

He looked out to the blackness as he walked. He glanced at the moonlit silhouette of his ship, anchored a hundred yards in deeper water, and felt a strange sense of calm, almost a belonging.

Maybe the lad was right,
he thought.
Maybe staying on these islands is the right thing to do. Maybe I shouldn’t care about anyone else, and shack up with a tribal girl or two.

He continued along the beach.

It was not as long as he thought it would be by the time he saw the ship again. Then, he frowned. It was his ship. It looked the same, at least. It was positioned differently, in another location. But it was
his
ship.

Ahead, as shadows on the beach, he could see figures. They were bringing something off of a raft. He looked back to the ship again, his heart pounding. It
was
his ship-one of his others. He was breathing quickly, dashed to his right, behind a rock. He watched the figures moving in the dark for a long time. They were a hundred yards away from him. He counted four of them in all. They appeared to be working with urgency. Above the noise of the surf, he could hear them talking, but not clear enough to understand them. He thought he heard a female voice shouting.

Could it be? After all this time? What fortune to cross paths again. I had vague thoughts about them coming to Arya, but ... well... they’ve finally done it.

He walked out from behind the rock, tucked his shirt in, rolled down his sleeves. He could see them pausing as he approached. They turned, stood in a line. Two of them brought up muskets.

‘Hey!’ one of them shouted. ‘Don’t move.’

Santiago stopped. Two ran forward, one with a musket. The other, he could tell, was a rumel. When they were nearer he could see that they were female. He smiled as they approached him. ‘Santiago

DeBrelt at your disposal, ladies.’ He held out his hand. ‘Again.’

‘What’re you doing here?’ the rumel said, her face registering equal disbelief as Santiago felt earlier.

‘Now, Jella , is that any way to greet an old friend?’

‘Sorry. Just a bit shocked. It’s a pretty slim chance I thought I’d see you again.’ She turned back, shouting, ‘It’s all right, it’s Santiago DeBrelt. Our contact from the west coast.’ Her voice echoed along the bay. She turned to face him. ‘So, what the fuck are you doing here then?’

‘Well, we’ve been here a week, doing the usual. Been exploring Arya as I didn’t get a chance to last time. Truth be told, we were going to remain indefinitely until I had thought long enough of what to do. And you? I see you got the boat then. My messages were received fine? I must admit I had my reservations since I was going to be away from land for so long.’

‘Yes,’ Jella said. ‘It was where you said it would be. All was fine.’

‘Those Qe Falta chaps are really quite efficient,’ Santiago said. ‘I wish everyone was that organised.’

‘Yeah, anyway, we didn’t think we’d be here this quick,’ Lula said.

Santiago said, ‘Really? I thought you were ahead of your rough schedule. Why’s that?’ Jella took Santiago’s arm. She turned him to face the sea. He could see the horizon as it was where the stars were cut off. ‘Let your eyes settle for a minute. You might need this.’ She drew out a telescope from her pocket, handed it to Santiago. He held it up to his eye and searched for the horizon again. ‘What am I looking for?’ Jella guided the telescope a few degrees to the right. ‘See that line of lights-the one’s that are more yellow than the stars ... ‘

Santiago brought the telescope down, still looking out to sea. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Navy. Are they Eschan or have they had help from Rhoam?’

‘I’m not sure. I had thoughts we were being tracked whilst crossing the desert. The thing is, the two lads got locked up and we had to break them free. They were arrested on charges of terrorism. So they’ve been following us for ages now, I think. I’m not sure if they’ve had help from Escha or now. I don’t know. How well are the militaries linked?’

Santiago shrugged. ‘Rhoam had kept fairly neutral, but if they suspect you then there’s no reason they won’t hunt you down with help.’

‘We’ve kept ahead of them,’ Jella said. ‘But they’ve maintained this route. I don’t know how they could know it was us, or what we planned.’

Santiago nodded thoughtfully. ‘I suspect they’re Eschan ships going to Arya but probably began tracking you. Eschan navy tend to raid any boat that’s not registered with the city, then they plunder. Hell, more pirates than a navy.’

‘How do you know?’ Jella asked.

‘We had a couple of agents with us,’ Santiago said. ‘Eschan.’

‘You were working with Eschan agents?’ Lula asked.

Santiago noted the look of anger in her eyes. He could see her fingers twitching on the musket in her hand. Back in the distance, the figures were working on the beach He couldn’t see what they were doing. ‘They’re dead. I killed them. I killed
both
of them. They sent a message using a relic.’

‘Bastards. Why did they communicate with the navy?’ Jella said.

‘They always were. They were investigating the loss of Eschan ships in these waters. Anyway, the point is, we have to get going. Particularly me.’

‘Fair enough.’ ‘Yes, I take it everything is prepared?’ Santiago said. ‘You got the whale carcasses?’

‘Yes, everything’s fine. Two carcasses. We can lead a trail back to west coast waters. Explosives are back there-’ Jella indicated the others. ‘Diving equipment and everything. I’m just a bit anxious about getting to Escha.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Santiago said. ‘Once Quidlo’s up I’d leave it a bit. I think you’ll find it will get rid of that lot.’ He nodded towards the boats on the horizon.

‘You sure?’ Lula asked.

‘Madam, you can be sure that it’ll leave nothing in the water. The force that it’ll make when it gets up will rock the surface. Possibly even send large waves to the mainland. I’d stay here if I were you. Wait. There’ll be some survivors and they’ll head straight here. Pick them off. Wouldn’t leave any alive, just to make sure. Then get the hell out of here. How long till detonation?’

‘By dawn I reckon.’

‘Good. I’ll get going now. I’ll leave message with the Qe Falta when I’m back on land. I hope it all goes well.’ ‘It
will
go well,’ Jella said. ‘That’s the spirit,’ Santiago said. ‘Right, I’m off. Good luck.’

Santiago turned to run along the beach. He did not look back.

It wasn’t long until he was out of breath. He walked to the raft then pushed it out and rowed to
DeBrelt One.
Within five minutes he had started the boat’s engines and pulled the anchor up. Becq, Jefry and Yana gathered by the ship’s wheel as Santiago turned the boat in an arc away to the north of the island, parallel to the horizon.

‘What’s wrong?’ Yana asked. ‘Why are we leaving now?’

‘I want to go now, that’s all,’ Santiago said. ‘I think there’ll be some tricky conditions in the next day or so, and I think we can escape it if we move tonight.’

‘How d’you know?’ Becq asked. ‘Cloud patterns. Weather changes. That sort of thing. A man knows these things.’ Santiago looked as his daughter, who tilted her head up to regard the blanket of stars that stretched across the horizon. ‘Right. .. ‘

‘Indeed. Anyway, we’re done here. I think we’ll have a little holiday on the south of the mainland. To celebrate. Just a few days. And then drinks. What do you say, Jef?’

‘Aye, could do worse,’ Jefry said. ‘Could do worse.’ ‘Splendid. Then I’ll buy you all some fine food,’ Santiago said. ‘Onwards.’

The boat gathered speed as it left Samekh. The others went below deck. Santiago glanced to the horizon. He thought he could almost see the ships. His heart was beating hard. His throat felt thick. He switched on another motor. The boat cut through the water and the smells of the plants from the island left him.

That’s it now,
he thought.
That’s it. It’ll be done. We can rebuild the place after I get back. Start again. I can put all this science behind me. It’ll be a fresh start. Everything makes more sense now. Bring back the Collectivists. We’ll organise it all,from the root up. I hope
they do it. It’s just a fucking marvellous plan. But I’d better make sure we’re well and truly out the way. We’ll be safe by the time it comes up. I hope so. I’ve got my doubts though. Maybe it won’t work. Actually, thinking about it, it seems tough still. Will two carcasses be enough to keep it interested that long? Do they have enough fuel to get back if they’ve used it getting here quickly? Well, at least it will be out. That’s something. Anyway, it might work. I’ve helped where I could. It’s not a perfect plan. I didn’t design it, after all. She did the research. She was convinced she knew what it would do. Not my idea of a tight plan, but I thought I’d help. The Qe Falta thought so, too. They’ve been here longer than we have, and they said she was right. I don’t know. It’s not the sort of thing you can prove by experiment. But absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, as my old lecturer always said. I would’ve done something better. I would’ve used one of the other islands. She knows that one of them has a fault line. Put the explosives in the fault, let the island subside, and create a tidal wave. Simple. Another plan, perhaps. Another day, if it all goes wrong again. At least, in all this, I would’ve helped free something. That’s got to be good, hasn’t it? But now, now I’ll have to start things all over again. A positive note to end on,perhaps.

BOOK: The Reef
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