THE GIRL WHO BROKE THE SEA
by
A. Connors
CHAPTER 1
LILY FAWCETT : DEEPHAVEN PERSONAL LOG
DAY 1:
They say you’ll never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore. I was fine when we lost sight of the shore.
It’s losing sight of the surface that bothers me.
CH-CLUUNK! CLAANK—
“Mum?”
CH—CH—CH—CH—GRRRRR—
“Mum, I changed my mind, I don’t want to go.”
CHRAANK—!
“I want to stay topside with Dad. I don’t even like the sea.”
Mum leaned over from where she was strapped into her seat and squeezed my hand. Outside, the articulated crane arm reached forward like a massive, yellow steel wading bird and lowered our submersible onto the surface of the ocean. It had looked gentle in the training video, but in reality there was a jolt as sharp as a car crash, and my jaw snapped shut. I blinked in surprise, tears of shock rushing to my eyes.
Mum drew a nervous lungful of air and let it out in a shaky breath. “A fresh start, right, Lily?"
A fresh start on a mining rig five kilometres under the ocean? A fresh start three and a half thousand miles, two boats and a helicopter ride from the nearest landmass? That wasn’t a fresh start, I thought. That was lunacy.
I twisted in my seat, trying to make myself more comfortable. The straps were designed for someone taller than me and they chafed against my neck. I watched through the porthole as our logistics ship uncoupled and moved away. Our sub rocked in its wake, the sea rising and falling around us. I felt like a flea riding on the back of an enormous animal, its great grey hide rippling as it walked.
Fifteen people floating in a tin can in the middle of the Pacific. The newest rotation of engineers and scientists on their way to Deephaven for a six month shift. We knew none of them, and yet we’d signed up to live with them at the bottom of the ocean. What were we thinking? Had things really been that bad? Was this really our best option? I looked across at Mum, her face pale and set in concentration.
Suddenly, a beeping noise ripped through the cabin, so loud and shrill it made my teeth rattle. The rest of the crew started bracing themselves, checking and tightening their straps in a business-like way. The thrusters roared, vibrating through the hull and my seat.
“What was that?” I breathed in the silence that followed.
Mum looked straight ahead, her jaw fixed. “I think we’re getting ready to drop.”
I took a deep breath and tried to settle the cage full of monkeys in my chest. Yes, I’d agreed to this. Yes, I’d promised Mum I was up for this. But what had I been thinking? I couldn’t do it. This was a mistake. A terrible mistake. I was going to mess up, just like I always did, and it was going to be worse than ever this time.
I missed Dad. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine him. His big, soft, engineer’s hands, his long fingers. Chill out, Lilypad, he’d say.
Mum’s hand closed more tightly around my own, clammy with fear.
“Mum?” I said, turning to her.
“Yes?”
There was a hopeful look in her eyes, like she thought I was going to say something brave and reassuring, something that would let her know I was going to be OK down there after all. I swallowed. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted this to be the fresh start she desperately needed it to be. But a cold, dangerous feeling had risen in my throat.
“Mum, I feel sick—”
Then, several things happened at once. Outside, eight sets of vertical thrusters burst into life, pushing our submersible downwards in a great whoosh of grinding seawater, while inside, the sub became weightless, and in that exact same moment, I threw up.
END