Ma eyed the rising water. “No one can swim that fast.”
“We have to do something,” Hewitt warned. “The Surface Deck is going to disengage in one hundred and seventy-three seconds. And then we drown.”
Even if the others weren’t paying attention to Hewitt, I listened—and had no doubt that his prediction was dead on. Sirens howled. The station rolled with the weight of the water gushing in. Emergency lights flashed. Ma and Raj were right. No one could swim fast enough to make it to the surface on just one breath.
No human anyway.
Jumping to my feet, I yelled, “Be right back.” I dove into the churning water despite my parents’ shouts of protest. With the icy water waking my senses, I swam down to the moon pool and out into the ocean, sending a series of clicks far and wide. Agitated clicks. A perfect imitation of a dolphin’s distress cry.
And it was answered—as I knew it would be.
I shot back inside the station and surfaced with a splash. “I flagged us a ride.”
“What do you —” Pa’s words rolled off when a dolphin popped up next to me. More dolphins appeared, zipping across the flooded room, clicking excitedly.
Ma looked as if she didn’t recognize me. “Trust me,” I said.
Shaken, she nodded. Then suddenly she laughed. “Tell us what to do!” She sounded as excited as Zoe after her first whale ride.
“Just hold on tight,” I said. “Who wants to go first?”
Zoe’s hand shot up. “I do!”
Pa pushed her hand back down. “You’ll go with me. That big one should be able to handle both of us.”
Jibby volunteered to be first. When he jumped in, I guided him onto a dolphin.
“See you Topside, glow stick,” he said, smiling nervously.
“You’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Just let this guy do all the work,” I said, giving the dolphin a pat.
With his arms around its dorsal fin, Jibby inhaled deeply and the dolphin dove for the moon pool. One after another the others did the same while Hewitt counted down the seconds until the Surface Deck disengaged. “You have nineteen seconds to get out of here,” he warned me just before his dolphin dove under the surface.
Gemma and I were the only ones left, along with half a dozen dolphins. As she slipped into the water, her whole body trembled. “The Topside has never looked so good, has it?” she asked through chattering teeth.
“No matter what, don’t let go.”
She hitched her arm around the nearest dolphin’s dorsal fin. “If I’m still alive after this, promise you’ll teach me to swim.”
“You got it.” I wanted to kiss her for luck, but my lips were numb.
“Surface Deck disengaging in five seconds,” the female voice announced out of the blue.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I said, which made Gemma smile.
“Four … three …” The computer voice quivered as the lower station shuddered.
“See you on the surface.” I chose the biggest dolphin left and took hold of his fin.
Gemma gave a scared little laugh and then inhaled deeply. Together our dolphins dove and exited through the moon pool. Side by side we rode upward, following the curve of the lower station until we reached the elevator cable at the top. I directed my dolphin to the outside position. The dolphins without riders shot past us, heading for the surface.
I cast out clicks as we climbed the water column. Nothing registered below us except the tremendous mass of the lower station. Clicking to the left, again I received no worrisome signal back. But when I sent clicks upward, what I saw in my mind’s eye made no sense. Something clung to the elevator cable about fifty feet above us. No, not something. Someone.
Had a settler fallen off his dolphin? Before I had a chance to pull ahead to investigate, the person launched himself from the elevator cable toward us. Arms flailing, the man plunged into view, red-faced and eyes popping. Doc! A second later, he crashed into Gemma, breaking her grip on her dolphin’s fin. As she slid down its back, her hands scrabbled for a hold.
My dolphin continued powering toward the surface as I reached back, futilely holding out a hand to Gemma, who was just a blur; the bubbles from her struggles blinded my sonar. All I could see were the dropping silhouettes against the massive glowing Trade Station far below.
As Gemma slid past her dolphin’s pumping tail, its flukes knocked her in the gut. Grab on! I screamed inside my head. And she did. Wrapping both arms around the dolphin’s tail, she held on tight. Doc tumbled past, swiping at her, and managed to snag her foot. He clawed his way up her leg, hand over fist. Gemma kicked and writhed, trying to free herself of his weight. Bubbles erupted from her throat. Her dolphin struggled to pump its tail, while my dolphin climbed higher and higher, leaving them far below. I tried to turn it around with a tug. I tried clicking, but he didn’t slow his ascent.
Suddenly another dolphin shot past. Gemma’s. Without a rider.
Twisting back, I threw out my sonar net and saw her plummeting with Doc still clinging to her. Her mouth open in a silent scream.
I let go of my dolphin and dropped toward the sinking station. But falling wouldn’t take me down fast enough. Not when I was racing against Gemma and Doc’s combined weight. With a somersault, I swam downward, following their bubble trail. The water was so cold my body ached. My dolphin passed me, heading downward, too. I was slower and dizzy from holding my breath for so long.
I searched the water below, throwing out a net of clicks, and sensed my dolphin struggling to push something upward. I stroked down to meet it, my ears popping. It was Gemma, rolling like a rag doll off the dolphin’s nose. I reached out and caught her wrist. With my other hand, I took hold of the dolphin’s fin once more.
Lungs burning, I glanced back at her as the dolphin raced upward. Her face was down but the way her other hand fluttered behind her unsettled me, so I refocused my attention on the faint traces of light in the water above. Finally, our dolphin crashed through the surface. As a wave carried us upward, a cheer broke out along the docking-ring and the settlers dissolved into whoops, handshakes, and high fives.
Too exhausted to swim, I let the dolphin pull me to the ring. Gemma didn’t struggle when I twisted her onto her back. Her arms and legs swayed like seaweed in a current. Pa and Lars plunged into the water, standing waist deep on the submerged step that ran around the docking platform. Together, they hauled Gemma out of the water and onto the deck. Ma gave me a hand up while Shurl stood by with blankets from the lounge.
I collapsed next to Gemma, groaning as my broken ribs hit the hard deck. My teeth chattered and my body shook. Weirdly, she didn’t seem to feel the cold at all. She didn’t tremble or roll into a ball.
Pa peeled back one of her eyelids and shot a look to Ma.
“Turn her over,” Ma insisted. There was a panicked note in her voice.
“The rangers are on the way,” Jibby said, stepping out of the open door from the lounge. Then he saw Gemma. “No!”
I struggled to sit up, alarmed by Jibby’s tone. Gemma rolled limply under Pa’s hands like an octopus dumped from a bucket. Water flowed from her mouth and nose. Ma straddled her, pushing down with both hands in the middle of Gemma’s back. Seawater gushed from her slack lips. Ma pushed again and again until the flow stopped, then Pa turned Gemma over once more. Her skin was waxy white, her chest still. The two of them set to work, Pa pumping her chest, Ma blowing air into her mouth. With a sob, Shurl turned away, dragging Hewitt with her.
How long had she been down? Five minutes? More? I didn’t know. Suddenly my parents sat back. Giving up! I rolled onto my knees next to Gemma and put my mouth to hers. Her lips were cold and loose under mine. I blew as hard as I could into her lungs, trying to fill every nook with air. Quickly I leaned over and pressed my palms to her chest, counting the way I’d been taught.
Ma whispered, “Ty.”
Ignoring her, I breathed into Gemma’s mouth again. Pumped her chest again. “Come on!” I shouted. But she did
n’t move.
I blew into her mouth until I was light-headed. When I put my palms on her chest again, Pa put his hands over mine. She was gone. I’d taken too long to find her. I yanked my hands from his and sat back on my heels. Ma closed Gemma’s mouth and stroked her wet hair off her cheek.
But Gemma was tough. Hadn’t she said so every chance she got? I ripped open her T-shirt, exposing her bra. Her chest was cold and still. “Zoe.” I beckoned her closer. “Put your hands on her.”
“Ty, don’t!” Ma cried.
When Zoe didn’t move, I took her hands and placed them on Gemma’s chest, right over her heart. “Do it,” I said softly.
Tears were streaming from Zoe’s eyes as she shook her head.
“Ty, don’t make her!”
Ignoring Ma, I put an arm around Zoe. “I shouldn’t have told you to hide it. It’s your gift.”
“I hurt people,” she whispered. “You almost died.”
“You can’t hurt her, Zoe. But maybe you can help.” I stepped away while checking that no one was standing in the puddle around Gemma.
Frowning, Zoe put her hands on Gemma’s chest. Without warning, her torso jumped. As my parents and the other settlers gasped, Gemma’s body relaxed. Lifeless.
“Try it again,” I urged.
Again, her torso jumped. And again her chest fell, inert. A hush fell over the group. Stricken, Zoe looked up at me.
“That’s enough,” Pa said firmly.
“It’s over, Ty,” Shurl said gently, putting a hand on my shoulder.
Shrugging away from her, I hunkered next to Zoe and repositioned her palms on Gemma’s chest. I whirled to the others. “Is that right?”
Ma floundered. “Yes. It looks right. Ty, this isn’t —”
I scrambled back. “Again, Zoe!” Sobbing softly, Zoe shocked her again. Nothing.
“No more,” Pa said, stepping between us. “She’s gone.”
I turned to argue, to explain that Gemma was tough, but the words curled up in my throat. Struggling to my feet, I saw Hewitt gape at something behind me. I whirled but Gemma was still laid out on the deck, looking as lifeless as before. And then I saw it … her hand twitched.
“Warm her up,” Ma cried as she dropped to her knees next to Zoe.
Shurl pushed past Pa and took the other side, rubbing Gemma’s limbs to get her blood flowing. “Blankets!” she shouted. Instantly, everyone whipped the blankets from their own shoulders and bundled them around Gemma.
Kneeling by her head, I put my lips to hers and blew until my lungs were dry. I pulled back to catch my breath and Gemma coughed, weakly at first. Then suddenly she came choking and crying back to life.
Screams and cheers erupted around us. Zoe fell back with a smile as wide as an ocean trench.
Color ebbed into Gemma’s cheeks as she lay there, eyes closed, panting weakly. With a trembling hand, I pushed her wet bangs out of her eyes. Her lids fluttered open. More cheering broke out. She blinked at the bunch of us, all crying and grinning like crazy people. As she struggled to rise, the group rang out with cries of “No!” “Stay down!” “Don’t move!”
She got as far as her elbows and saw that her shirt was open. Next to her, Zoe looked more like an angel than ever with her skin shimmering in the last wink of moonlight. Gemma cleared her throat, coughed once more, and stared hard at Zoe. “Did you shock me?” Her voice was a croak.
Zoe nodded, beaming.
“Don’t ever do it again,” she commanded, making everyone laugh.
“Ty told me to,” Zoe said and Gemma followed her look.
“You’re right,” I whispered because my throat was tight with unshed tears. I leaned in so that my lips brushed her ear. “You are tough.”
She started to smile but then gasped as she looked past me. “It’s morning.” On the horizon the first rays of dawn streaked across the sky and ocean. She struggled to sit up. “The rangers are coming to take me to a reformatory.”
“They can’t.” I pulled the emancipation form from the pouch on my belt and showed it to her. “You’re not a ward of the Commonwealth anymore. Shade signed it.”
“We didn’t exactly capture him, did we?” Shurl sat back on her knees. “Or any of them. What’re we going to tell Representative Tupper?”
“Tupper is our problem, not the Seablite Gang,” I said angrily.
“True enough,” Lars said, “but the ‘wealth will keep laying the pressure on us. Whatever the reason, the government wants those boys brought in.”
I glanced at the paper in my hands and an idea took shape in my mind. “We need one of these.” I held up the form. “We need to give Representative Tupper an emancipation form on behalf of Benthic Territory.”
Shurl shook her head. “We’re too dependent for that.”
“No,” I argued. “The ‘wealth is dependent on us. They’d suffer a food shortage if we stopped paying our taxes in crops and fish.”
Ma caught my enthusiasm. “If the government gave us a fair price for our crops, we wouldn’t need subsidies. We could afford to buy our supplies from the mainland.”
“The government ain’t going to give us anything,” Raj scoffed.
“Look,” Jibby shouted. “The rangers.” Two wing-ships crested the horizon. With their spun aluminum sails catching the light from the rising sun, they skimmed over the waves.
I faced the group. “That’s the point. We don’t ask. We tell them that we’re self-governing from here on out.”
Pa smiled. “You sure you’re talking about Benthic Territory?”
EPILOGUE
In the murky water by Coldsleep Canyon, I watched Gemma inch to the edge of the cliff. There was still no sign of the old East Coast. It was down there somewhere, deep in the darkness, and someday I’d discover it. Now that my parents trusted me to go where I pleased.
Without warning, Gemma flung her hand toward me. As I closed my fingers around hers and stepped forward, I felt what she’d felt: a geyser of frigid water surging out of the gorge. Under our feet, the ooze rippled like a startled skate. We leapt back from the cliff. By the time we touched down, the seafloor was motionless again. Even so, Gemma swam frantically for the Slicky. I followed, surprised at her speed. Our lessons in the moon pool were paying off.
“You said we’d see something wonderful down here,” she sputtered as soon as she’d wiggled into the minisub and caught her breath. “You didn’t say anything about earthquakes!”
“That wasn’t a quake.” I reached past her to stow my helmet. “That was a tremor.”
“If I have a nightmare about falling tonight” — she dumped her helmet into my hands — “I’m putting one of Zoe’s pets in your bed.”
“Falling isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s fun.”
“If you’re demented.”
“Behind Hewitt’s homestead, the continental slope isn’t a slope. It’s a sheer drop to the abyssal plain. It’s an amazing fall.”
Gemma’s eyes widened with horror. “I’m never doing that.”
“You said you’d never stand at the edge of the canyon,” I pointed out.
“You conned me into … Oh, Ty,” she said, turning my name into a sigh that sent prickles down my spine.
Her eyes were focused on the viewport behind me. No doubt some glowing creature had finally made an appearance. I didn’t turn to see it; I was more interested in watching her. Her lips parted with wonder, reminding me that I hadn’t kissed her in weeks, not since Benthic Territory had petitioned for statehood. I hadn’t even tried. It didn’t feel right since she was living with us now. But that didn’t mean I’d stopped thinking about it. Maybe when she was more settled, she’d give me a sign that it was okay. Right now I was just happy to share the ocean with her.
“Ty, turn around,” she insisted.
Twisting on the padded bench, I saw what looked like fireworks in a starry sky. Balls of red light dangled from the jaws of viperfish; jellyfish shimmered like pink clouds; and gulper eels, with th
eir neon spots, streaked past like comets.
The earthquake must have disturbed all the creatures that lived in the gorge, and now they were rising out of it, flashing and sparkling in the darkness. Each and every one, a gem o’ the ocean.
About the Author
KAT FALLS lives with her husband and three children in Evanston, Illinois, where she teaches screenwriting at Northwestern University. This is her first book. As a lifelong animal lover, she feels a deep sense of reverence for all of the earth’s creatures, even the slimy and scaly ones.
Copyright
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
This book was originally published in hardcover by Scholastic Press in 2010.
Copyright © 2010 by Kat Falls.
Cover art and design by Christopher Stengel
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
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e-ISBN 978-0-545-34756-3
Kat Falls, Dark Life
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