Jonathan Howard - Katya's War

“It’s neither,” said Tasya airily, “it’s the Vodyanoi ,” and launched a flare to attract the boat’s attention.

“What are you doing?” shouted Glazov. He dropped back inside the pod to remonstrate, but found Tasya was already back inside and had her gun drawn.

“You’re not Secor,” he said. He turned on Oksana, but she was still unconscious, so he turned on Alina instead. “You lied!”

“To save your lives,” said Katya wearily. “Feds,” she pointed at Tasya, “the Chertovka. The Chertovka,” she wafted her finger around to take in the increasingly worried Federal guards, “Feds. There, now you’re properly introduced and perhaps you’re beginning to understand why Oksana and Alina lied. Put down your weapons and don’t do anything stupid, and there’s no reason you shouldn’t live through this.” The pod began to bob violently in the water as the Vodyanoi came alongside. “And here’s our ride.”

The pod was cleared with less urgency than it had been filled. None of the guards seemed very keen to throw themselves upon the mercy of a notorious pirate and his crew of cut-throats. When the notorious pirate turned out to be a mild-looking man of perhaps forty years who insisted on shaking their hands and welcoming them aboard, and when the cut-throats just looked like a regular crew, they calmed down a little.

The guards were taken below to be checked over and placed in the brig, with the exception of Oksana who was taken to the sickbay, and Alina because Katya feared the other guards might turn on her for her deception. Despite her ribs, Katya stayed topside with Kane. He was looking ruefully at the pods bobbing in the waves.

“Awful. Even if every one of those pods is full, that still means close on a thousand lives lost. Another psychotic break, you say?”

“Governor Senyavin went mad,” said Katya. Only now did she have time to think of all those who’d died. She thought of Dominika and the others. More deaths to haunt her.

“Mad. Mad is such a simple term for something so complicated. As for went mad, I have my doubts about that. He may have been driven to it.”

Abruptly the ocean erupted with a great rushing gout of air and debris some three kilometres away. Kane’s binoculars were at his eyes in a moment, and he watched it grimly. Neither needed to say what it meant; that the Deeps was crushed.

Katya turned away, unable to look. Kane lowered the binoculars and looked at her; she was crying silently, misery in her every fibre.

“It would have happened whether you were there or not, Katya,” he said gently. “This was Senyavin’s doing.”

“Can’t I just weep for the dead, Kane? There were a lot of scum in there, but there were good people, too. Political prisoners, dissidents. People whose faces just didn’t fit.” She looked at him, furious. “Tell me they died for something, Kane. Tell me they’ll be the last.”

Kane looked at her, rocked his head from side to side as if considering. “Let’s go for a cruise,” he said finally. He pulled a communicator from his pocket and said, “Ms Ocello, make for the rendezvous, would you, please?”

Katya heard the first officer reply. “Aye, captain. If you’ll come below, we’ll secure for diving.”

“No,” said Kane, drawling the word out. “It’s such a nice day. Let’s stay on the surface.”

“Captain?”

“Seriously, Genevra. We’re staying on the surface. Que será, será as they say.” To Katya he said, “On Earth. Somewhere. I forget where. Oh, and, Genevra, start transmitting a truce signal.” He put away the communicator. He smiled at Katya, but she could see the nervousness under the surface. “ Que será, será . It means ‘Whatever will be, will be.’ We’ve done all we can. You, far more than most.”

“Did it work?”

“I hope so.”

The Vodyanoi moved away from the group of escape pods at surface cruise speed, which was only two thirds of the maximum. Slowly the pods dwindled into the distance. With Katya on the conning tower, Kane watched them go through his binoculars, impatience making him fractious.

“Oh, come on. Where are you? There’s a whole high security facility been destroyed and you can’t…”

Sudden rapid boot falls on the ladder made him pause. A moment later, Tasya emerged from the hatch. She’d changed into her trademark Terran trooper’s partial armour, Yagizban combat fatigues visible beneath it. “It’s the Feds.”

“Oh, super,” said Kane with unfeigned pleasure. “I was getting worried.”

“It’s the Novgorod . They’re in our baffles, communicating through the hydrophones.”

Kane produced his communicator again. “Hello, Number One,” he said into it. “Could you relay comms through my handset, please? Thanks. Thanks ever so.”

There was a pause and then, loud enough for them to all hear, “… ovgorod to hostile vessel. You are to surrender immediately. Failure to comply will result in…”

“Hello!” said Kane brightly. “Hello, is Petrov there? Captain Petrov, that is? This is Havilland Kane. Hello?” He waited, but there was near silence, only moderated by the artefacts of normal oceanic sounds that were being filtered out by the communications system. The two submarines were talking using the sea itself as the connecting medium, transmitting sound through their sonar grids and receiving it through their hydrophones.

“You’ve gone all quiet,” persisted Kane. “Hello? Anyone there?”

“This is Petrov. Surrender the Vodyanoi immediately, Kane, and prepare for boarding.”

“Yes, and lovely to hear from you, too. How are things?”

“I’m not playing games, Kane. Heave to, or we will launch torpedoes.”

“That would be rude of you. I’m transmitting a truce signal and everything.”

“You’re asking for a truce?”

“Mmhm. As is every Yagizban vessel and floating facility. In fact…” Kane looked ahead through his binoculars, “in fact, I can see FP-1 ahead. I know you didn’t have a very good experience there last time, but if you listen, you’ll find they’re transmitting for a truce, too.”

“What are you playing at, Kane?”

“Captain, I have a great deal of respect for you. You are an honourable and intelligent man. I will not lie to you. We have done a very desperate thing. If it comes off, the war will be over and there will still be Russalkin alive at the end of it. If it doesn’t, the two sides will just keep on hitting one another until there’s no one left. The truce is entirely sincere. Our tubes are closed and loaded only with noisemakers. You are in our baffles. We are at your mercy. Please, surface. We will not engage. You can keep your tubes open and blow us out of the water if we try anything.”

“Your reputation for cunning makes me distrust you.”

Katya gestured to Kane to hand her the communicator. He nodded and gave it to her without hesitation. “Petrov? Captain Petrov?”

“Who is this?”

“Katya, sir. Katya Kuriakova. Please, Kane’s telling the truth. If you don’t trust him, maybe you can trust me.”

“Ms Kuriakova.” Petrov seemed unsettled. “I thought you must have died in the Deeps.”

“I nearly did. But even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered, not to Russalka. Please, this is bigger than the war. This is about everything.” She tried to think of something to convince him, something she would never offer up under duress. When she thought of it, she had to take a second to steel herself to say it in an even voice. “I swear it on my love for my uncle, Lukyan Pushkin.”

“I see.” Petrov was silent for a moment, then said, “Kane? Are you there?”