Chapter 17

The bridge of the Sipadan was in a state of barely controlled chaos. Only two of the workstations were occupied, which was good, since I wasn’t sure there was room for more human beings. The consoles looked new, but every surface was covered with little curios. A few pinup calendars on the walls made me a bit uncomfortable, as I realized that somebody in the crew had a thing for blondes. The parts of the walls that weren’t coated in swimsuit calendars were covered in printed-out charts of the South Pacific. I couldn’t read all of the notes, since they were scribbled in a loose hand in at least six languages, but a few stood out.

‘Banned here.’

‘Good strip club, ask for Saul.’

‘Wallace owes me a favor,’ with the word ‘a’ crossed out and a number three written in its place.

A parakeet in a cage chirped as we entered.

“Huh, I was expecting a parrot,” I said.

“Can’t trust parrots,” said Captain Zhang, leaning over the shoulder of one of his seated crewmen. “You never know what they decide to repeat back.”

I bet you say a lot you wouldn’t want repeated back.

O’Connor stood on the other side of the desk jockey, more interested in the screen than Zack and I.

“Is it good news?” asked Zack.

“See for yourself,” said Captain Zhang, taking a step back. “We’re making our first pass now.”

“That was faster than I expected,” I said. “I thought we’d be out here for days still.”

“I can explain that.” The sailor was a nebbish man with thick glasses, holding what looked like a game controller. (So much for Mum saying you couldn’t get a job playing video games)! I hadn’t seen him before, and I thought the well-kempt man looked out of place in the crew. His nametag read ‘Mail bin Adi.’

“There were a few factors on our side. They didn’t get far past their last known location, only a dozen kilometers. The water around the islands is pretty clear and shallow, so the aerial drone was able to spot it while the submersible got into place.” He called out to another technician sitting at a similar console across the room. “How’d you do it, Hank?”

“I played the odds,” the larger man replied. “There’s only so much area I can even see deep enough with the cam, so I focused there.”

Mail’s screen showed the shadowy outline of a warship. It was hard to tell from this perspective, but it looked around the same size as the Sipadan. I could just make out the turrets of its great guns. I shifted a bit, thinking about how they hadn’t done the Hercules any good.

“That was a corvette, yeah?” asked Zack. He carried on without waiting for a response. “Any sign of what brought her down?”

“Not yet,” said Captain Zhang. “We thought we’d bring in the magic experts straight away, since we aren’t quite sure what to look for.”

“It’ll be a large crate, about ten feet on each side,” said O’Connor.

“Feet?” asked Zhang. “What’s that in a measurement anyone still uses?”

“About three meters,” growled the American.

“That could be a problem,” said Mail, adjusting his glasses. “The sub’s claws are designed for small samples.”

“We’ll figure it out when we get there,” said Zhang. “Bring her closer.”

The wreck of the Hercules came into focus, the sunlight streaming through the water just bright enough to be useful. Mail hit a button, turning a spotlight onto the ship. The Northern Border Sea hadn’t been shy about reclaiming the ship; her hull was covered in barnacles and small corals, and the silhouettes of fish scattered from the intense beam’s glare.

“No signs of damage on the port side,” muttered Zhang.

“Yeah, you scrape off the junk and refloat her, and she’ll be ship shape,” said Zack.

Zhang perked up at that. I’m sure he was wondering how he could get that salvage contract. “You think so, Leftenan? Makes you wonder what brought her down in the first place.”

“We can worry about that later,” said O’Connor. “We’re here for the fabricata. Do you see a way in?”

“She isn’t exactly designed to be accessed underwater,” replied Mail. He grabbed the controller again, and the sub tilted left, crossing behind the Hercules.

O’Connor cursed when we came upon the starboard side, speaking for us all. Where the other side had been mostly pristine, a huge chunk of the hull was missing near the ship’s midline.

“Well, so much for an easy refloat,” said Zhang.

“It’ll be easier to get inside this way, though,” said Mail.

O’Connor turned to Zack, his brow furrowed. “What do you think did that?”

“Could it have been an internal explosion?” I offered.

“I don’t think so,” said Zack, scratching his chin. “You see the way the hull is twisted inward? That looks like a torpedo strike.”

The color drained from Zhang’s face. “Who in God’s name would be throwing torpedoes at an Australian warship?”

“Who’d be throwing torpedoes that could sink a warship?” asked O’Connor.

“That one’s easy,” said Zack, leaning against the wall, obscuring one of the calendars. “That’s one of the Kaze-class corvettes they’re cranking out in Japan. They’re easy to put together, and they can fire a shell over the horizon, so they’re good for harassing the Horde.”

“What’s easy about them?” I asked.

“There’s a reason they’re easy to make. We aren’t taking heavy fire unless a devil’s involved these days, so they’ve got tissue paper for armor, yeah?”

“Wait,” I said. “What do they do if a demonic wizard does hit them?”

“If it’s just a Fireball or another basic spell? Not much. If it’s a team of devils, though?” He pointed at the screen. “It might look something like that.”

“I want out,” said Zhang, straightening up. “Nobody said anything about demons out here. The navy said that was a wild meridraken, and I didn’t even like the sound of that.”

“Too bad,” said O’Connor. “You’re under contract, and if you back out, you’ll never get a job with the League again.”

“That sounds like a threat,” said Zhang, scowling at the American.

“Not a threat. Just an assessment. Besides, if there was a devil involved, it was what, six years ago? We’d have some idea if they were still running around the Spratlys. It might just as well have been a torpedo.”

“That isn’t much better! Who’s there to fire it?” demanded Zhang. “It isn’t the Horde; they’re just about medieval, besides the magic!”

“Could it be a pirate,” I offered.

“Pirates aren’t dumb enough to go after corvettes,” said Zhang. “Those guns aren’t just for show!”

While we had argued, Mail kept doing his job, slowly edging closer towards the vent in the Hercules’ hull. The camera panned down, casting light on the ocean floor. “That’s… strange.”

“What is?” asked O’Connor, looking away from his staring match with Zhang.

He swung the submarine around, showing a wider view of the wreck. “It looks like most of the hull is accounted for.” He shifted the spotlight back and forth, and I realized that what had looked like isolated rocks and reefs were twisted chunks of rusting steel. “If she’d been shot at the surface, I’d think the debris would have drifted more.”

Zack leaned in, balancing himself on Mail’s chair. “Now that you mention it, a torpedo would have hit below the waterline, but those hole’s high up there. Could it have been another warship?”

“Unless the League’s got a civil war we don’t know about, who’d have a ship that could bring it down?” countered O’Connor. “If it was getting shelled, the rest of it wouldn’t look as pristine.”

“What if it sank first, then it was cracked open?” I offered. “That would explain the debris.

“Then it means we aren’t going to find your treasure,” said Zhang. “If they smashed it underwater, then of course they got that fabricata. Sounds like we can go home with our heads held high.”

“I’m still not letting you go yet,” snapped O’Connor.

The captain shrugged. “It was worth a try.” He clapped Mail’s back. “You heard the man. Keep searching for the nothing. You’ll know when you don’t find it.” He walked out the door, throwing us a cheeky salute on the way out.

“Do you think he’s right?” I asked.

O’Connor shrugged. “Well, we’re here. No sense cutting and running. Though you might want to go find something to occupy yourselves. This is going to take a while.”