Mandla frowned as he scrutinized Lieutenant Botha's report.

  "We don't have long," Botha insisted. "If your systems tech doesn't get here soon, we must leave without him. I'm picking up long-range frequencies from high command. They've sent a recon squadron to see why we haven't checked in."

  Mandla traced the artistic scars just above his wrist, his rolled sleeves giving a glimpse of segmented carapace and razor-edged parapodia. Mandla could keep his head in a gunfight but lacked the practical experience to risk a naval battle. He needed more experienced sailors.

  "Frans isn't only coming to facilitate a trade but also bringing the payment. Without him, we can't pay our contact in Pitchmarrow.”

  Francois frowned beside Mandla, "Well, we'll have to get creative because we don't have enough men to maximize maneuverability and operate all of our torpedo tubes."

  Mandla nodded. Securing the Vortex Rider had been a costly struggle, but it was only the first step many had taken in building a Joberg private fleet.

  "We have systems techs onboard," Francois offered. "They're not great, but they're functional."

  Mandla shook his head. "Joberg uses old tech; everything is hardline. Your guys may be able to figure it out with time, but having someone familiar with the system will be much better."

  "We'll use my guys as a plan B." Francois said.

  "We stay as long as we can," Mandla decided, handing the report back to Botha. If they ping active Sonar, we hightail without our systems tech." He turned, heading back to the infirmary to get his wound checked. As he moved through his new sub, he wondered what could take Vermeulen so long.

  ********

  Thulani sat on the bottom bunk of his cell, back against the wall, and hunched to avoid the bedsprings above. The lone occupant of his cell, the space, was designed to accommodate two prisoners. An exposed toilet occupied the back wall, and the far wall was made of thick steel bars. Thulani touched his swollen eye, wincing at the sting.

  "You know what I don't get?" Johan's voice drifted through the bars. His cell was mirrored to Thulani's. "What could they possibly want from you? They've interrogated you at least three times more than me, and you only allegedly stopped one guy."

  "You sound disappointed, Johan," Thulani smirked despite his grim circumstances.

  "I mean, you just hid behind me and cried the whole time. I'm the one who killed the corsairs."

  Thulani looked through the bars at the steel to see an opposing row of cells elevated over the rec pit. "You missed a lot when you were out," Thulani explained. "They're not really looking for the mechanic who killed a handful of raiders. They're searching for an evasive figure who led a strike team and wiped out full units of corsairs."

  "Oh," Johan's voice sounded. "And they think you know who it is?"

  Thulani plucked a bed spring in the bunk over him. "I told them it was me."

  Johan snorted with laughter. "That would be the day. Why would you tell them that?"

  Thulani balled a fist, internalizing the answer. Because if they're going to turn him into a sacrificial lamb, hopefully, he can cover for those who will continue the fight. In fear of cameras, he didn't answer the question. "The Raiders were members of a territorial Navy called the Corral Corsairs. We exist in their dominion. The Council pays them to protect us, and now they have hired the Coral Corsairs to eliminate non-productive citizens. The Council failed resource management, so this was their solution. I exposed them by hijacking a citywide broadcast."

  Johan snorted. "Bleeksiel."

  Thulani smiled. "Sitting in a cell, I doubt my actions."

  "Don't," Johan said quickly. The bedsprings on the other side of the wall groaned as he repositioned himself. "When an enemy attacks, you do everything you can to destroy them, no matter the cost. Death to all, yourself included, before slavery."

  "I'm worried about my girlfriend. I have a baby on the way," Thulani croaked, cradling his head. "And my sister, what about them?"

  Johan went silent for a moment. "I wish my father was the kind of man who would fight for me." Johan's voice grew clearer, suggesting he was closer to his bars. "You know, while they were interrogating you, one of the guards told me this was the cell my old man spent most of his life in."

  Thulani pulled himself off his bunk and grabbed his cell's bars. "Why was he in here?"

  "Rape," Johan said. "Not just my mom, but other women too."

  "You have siblings?" Thulani asked, though his insides constricted at the horrible thought of the cited crimes.

  "No," Johan said. "Of his victims, only my mother carried me to full term. Lucky me, right?" Johan chuckled, pained. "Sometimes I think she had me because she couldn't take her rage out on him."

  "I met your mother at the clinic," Thulani said, pressing his forehead against the bars. I am very sorry for what happened to her, but she's wrong about you. You're not your father."

  "I'm very similar," Johan disagreed. "I look like him, I'm always pissed, and I have this itch only violence seems to satisfy."

  "Would your father have fought back in the bay when the corsairs attacked?"

  Johan chuckled. "Oh yeah. He was respected in here, but in the end, his fury got him shived."

  "Do you want to be like your father?" Thulani asked.

  Johan paused. "Sometimes I wonder how much of a choice I have."

  "What do you mean?" Thulani asked, frowning. "Of course, you have a choice.

  "It's oddly empty in here," Johan redirected. "I'd expect more inmates in the high-security block.

  Thulani could tell Johan was trying to bury something in his own mind, but whatever it was, Johan clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Thulani let it go—for now. "The Council had the Coral Corsairs wipe out everyone in the medium and maximum security blocks. It's just us now."

  Johan chuckled. "I think that makes us the most dangerous people in Joberg right now."

  "How dangerous could we be behind bars?" Thulani asked, thinking about the girls.

  "Someone's coming," Johan hissed.

  Thulani craned his neck and pressed the side of his head to the bars to see who was approaching. His nerves tingled with apprehension. His face still stung from his last three meetings with Councilman Thabo. Was it time for round four?

  Thulani's jaw clenched, and he bounced on his toes. He wouldn't change a word of his story. They could peel off his fingernails, and it would just make him defiantly resolute.

  A short white man shuffled into view, glancing nervously through thick spectacles. His dark comb-over parted his hair on the left, and he wore a grey plaid systems tech vest lined with pockets for hardware.

  "You're Thulani?" The man asked, casting wary eyes around the cell block. He stood as far away from the Thulani as possible. The only thing stopping him from toppling into the recreation pit was a railing at his back.

  "I am," Thulani said, studying his unexpected visitor.

  "My name's Frans," the systems tech introduced. "I installed your drives into the sub that sank the Eel Fang."

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Vermeulen sent you?" Thulani asked, failing to contain the excitement in his voice.

  "What? No. Vermeulen made me work with him the same way he's forcing you. I went to the Council; I told them the truth. They are protecting me. Don't let that evil man manipulate you. The council can protect you, too."

  "I don't know if you have eyes," Thulani said, pointing to his face. But the council has no interest in protecting me."

  "C'mon, man. Vermeulan is using you."

  Thulani scrutinized the short tech through the bars of his cell and contemplated his presence. Vermeulen didn’t send Frans—that would be self-incrimination, and compared to Thabo’s heavy-handed interrogation, this new approach felt out of place. "Thabo didn't send you, neither did Vermeulan. Who wants me to condemn him?”

  New footsteps clinked down the ramp, bringing Councilwoman Madaline Miller into view. "Hello, Thulani." She wore a high-necked black and gold embroidered blouse and skirt. Her gold hair was pulled back into a tight bun while hanging locks framed her pale face.

  "Councilwoman," Thulani acknowledged, gripping the bars tighter. "How involved were you in turning the Coral Corsairs against us?" This was his first time speaking to her face to face.

  Councilwoman Miller's eyes flicked across Thulani's face, seemingly to memorize his features.

  "Existing on the ocean floor isn't easy, Thulani. Compared to many places, Joberg is a paradise."

  "Can it be a paradise when you cull us to offset your failures?"

  Councilwoman Miller's lips twitched into a frown. "Don't lecture me on resource failures. This steel ecosystem isn't natural. Everything must be monitored and controlled. Even a slight imbalance would doom us all. So yes, the Council makes hard decisions. We make life-or-death judgments every day. The fact that you haven't noticed until now is more indicative of our success.”

  Thulani thought back to Councilwoman Miller’s speech. Her wet eyes as she gave tribute to those whose death warrant she signed. "Your fake tears don't deceive me," Thulani growled.

  She sighed. "Don't pretend that people like you had nothing to do with this disaster."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm talking about your child. Tell me, did you consider whose oxygen your baby would be breathing? Or were you having too much fun making it to care?"

  Thulani recoiled at the accusation. The pregnancy had been an accident, sure, but with the prospect of starting a new family, Thulani had been happy to pay the fine.

  "Careful population control is crucial for balance. You didn't get a license. We know the logistics, but without regard for others, people like you take it upon yourself to decide how much oxygen we need despite our production capabilities."

  "No, I—"

  "By breeding at will, you decided that your child's life held more value than the criminal and the greedy. On that, we agree, Thulani. That’s why we’re on the same side. You get your child, and we made a place for her."

  "That's not what I wanted," Thulani stammered.

  "Really? Please explain how your negligence is our fault."

  "In your shoes, I would have been honest with the people and worked together to overcome the problem," Thulani said resolutely.

  "Really?" Miller looked down her pointed nose at Thulani. "Like how you were open with Nandi and Olivia?"

  Thulani’s eyes widened.

  "That's right. I spoke to them, and they're worried about you.”

  "How are they?" Thulani asked, leaning in.

  "They’re healthy and safe,” Miller sighed. “But mostly worried. Olivia, the poor girl, seems to think you've been coerced into cooperating with Councilman Vermeulan's schemes. I'm inclined to agree. He's plotting behind the council’s back, seeking to seize control. Why did you meet with him at his office? Is he forcing you to take the fall?"

  She stepped closer to the bars. "You don't have to make your family suffer on his behalf. Tell me what he's planning, and I'll get you back to your family, where you belong." Thulani swallowed, her voice soothing his worries and promising him an escape from these political games. Could things go back to normal?

  A renegade sob choked Thulani—after facing Thabo’s merciless promises, could councilwomen be the ally that made this all disappear? She had helped Frans. Thulani was in way over his head. He didn't want to be in a cell. He wanted to be home, getting ready for the baby. Mr. Vermeulan wasn't a saint or protector. He was a scheming, manipulative politician. Why would Thulani take the fall for him? Maybe she was right. Maybe the culling was the harsh reality of ocean-dwelling. Was Thulani self-righteous and ignorant to think otherwise?

  "I—" Thulani started, his defensive wall cracking.

  A sharp clap rang out throughout the cell block, shocking Thulani out of his head.

  "Wow," Johan said sardonically, continuing a mocking slow clap. "That was good. Five stars—would see again. You got me tearing up here. Was that improvised, or did you memorize your script?"

  Surprised at the interruption, Madaline frowned and shifted her focus to Johan just beyond Thulani’s sight.

  "You always this desperate or just when others see the blood on your hands?" Johan asked.

  Madaline contemplated Johan, and Thulani practically watched the recalibrations in her eyes. "Johan Meer," she said, her eyes narrowing. I spoke to your mother as well. She's worried about you."

  A mocking bark of laughter made her wince. "My mother? Really? Tell me, was that before or after she kicked me out? Maybe after she called the cops last time I tried to reconcile with her? You haven't seen my mother. I'm not politically important enough for you to have wasted your time, unlike Thulani. You think you know everything, but you don't, and it's sad.

  Thulani shook his head, ignoring her promises of peace. She was another one of them. Like the others, she was playing and manipulating him to get her way. Thulani composed himself, plastering a neutral expression on his face.

  Johan snickered again. "You almost had me there but didn't do enough homework. Not on useless little Johan. Do you want to try again? I'll give you a second shot."

  Miller's eye twitched, Johan's mockery getting through. Then she smiled sourly. “I see you’re following your father’s footsteps.”

  Johan fell silent.

  “Yes, like father like son. I admit I didn’t have the time to meet your mother in person, but I read your file. It’s a wonder you weren’t marked for liquidation during the raid. Sure, you’re good at your job, but I couldn’t find a single positive character endorsement on your file, but I saw plenty of complaints.”

  “Shut up,” Johan growled.

  Councilwoman Miller hummed in satisfaction. “They all hate you, so why did you work so hard to protect them? You didn’t fight for your mother. You didn’t defend your home. Your violence and abrasiveness speak to your nature. Like your father, you take and consume, acting on impulse and hunger without a care for who you hurt.”

  “I said shut up!” Johan roared, the bars raddling as the mechanic struck them.

  “You don’t want to be like your father?” Miller asked in mock surprise. “Well, here’s your first chance. Cooperate for once in your life and maybe you can prove me wrong.”

  That was a miscalculation. She shouldn’t have changed her approach in front of Thulani. He noted how quickly she switched faces, which discredited her claims of wanting to help him.

  "You want the truth?" Thulani asked, causing her to look away from Johan. "I'm not working for Vermeulen."

  Councilwoman Miller folded her arms, a grimace contorting her face. "You visited Vermeulan. What did he want?"

  "You're right." Thulani smiled forcefully. "I went to Vermeulen's office but wasn't reporting to him; I was threatening him."

  Miller shifted, trying to assess Thulani.

  "Don't believe me? You think Vermeulen is some sort of mastermind? He's not. I am. Cornelius is just a pawn and a useful one at that. He's just the first piece to fall. Sooner or later, every councilman will fall into line or be replaced." Thulani grinned, allowing his rage to burn in his eyes. His lie spilled out naturally—easy to contradict when taking the facts at face value, but at the moment, he almost believed them.

  Besides Councilwoman Miller Frans, the system tech flinched in her shadow.

  "I was coming for you next, but you should have seen how Vermeulen tried to protect you from me."

  "Lies," she muttered with a casual shrug. "Why would he ever fear you."

  Thulani laughed, but it wobbled. "I am Cthulu. My followers and agents see everything. You think you have power over me, but I'm here by my design."

  Frans stepped up red-faced. "He's lying!" The small man trembled in frustration. "He's an aspiring systems tech. He owes Vermeulen money. Vermeulen's looking for someone to take the fall for him.”

  Thulani shrugged. "You think Frans knows anything important?"

  "Should I kill him, boss?" Johan growled from his cell, playing along, and Frans flinched away.

  "If he keeps talking," Thulani said. He shifted back to the councilwoman. "Dispose of Vermeulen if you wish. I'll replace him."

  Councilwoman Miller trembled in fury as she analyzed Thulani. She thought she had a baseline understanding of who Thulani was, but a flicker of doubt danced in her eyes.

  "I hope for your sake you think this is a joke," she sneered. "I came to offer you help. I wonder what leverage Vermeulen has on you to compel such foolishness. Surely, it’s not your measly fine. I could snap my fingers and make that go away."

  "Vermeulen is too distracted by his desire for independence," Thulani continued, his pitch raising. "He's always trying to be industrial and innovative. It works so long as he continues to be predictable." Thulani punched the bar, rattling in its housing, and Frans yelped. "You're cold, Miller. You've proven you can do what needs to be done. If something were to happen to him, you'd make a suitable replacement pawn."

  Miller stepped back, a storm in her eyes. "If you sober during your time here, ask for me. I don't think Thabo is planning to be so merciful." She turned and strode away with Frans dogging at her heels.

  Johan chuckled from his cell as they left. "Now I see what you're doing. You're a wild card. You're playing chess against masters but don't know the rules. You're moving pieces erratically across the board, and they can't predict your next move. They think they’re playing a novice, but the tiniest part of them wonders if you might be a master."

  Thulani nodded, though Johan couldn't see the gesture.

  "It's a stalling tactic, you know," Johan continued. "This facade won't last. They'll find the truth soon and then have no use for you."

  "I know," Thulani said, frustrated. "But I won't be easily played."

  "So what do we do?" Johan asked, shifting in his cell.

  Thulani thought back to Mandla, boarding an enemy infiltration vessel. "We hope anyone else fighting for this city is more successful than us.”