The teachers and the sentinel arrived at the point where reports described the chasm, but they had to search about for quite some time. They spent the better part of an hour swimming around before a yawning darkness opened beneath their fins, its jagged edges glowing faintly with bioluminescent threads, like the pulse of the ocean itself.

Once they had the chasm to lock onto, however, they made their way quickly down. Relying on the biolum’s as the girls had done, then proceeded as far as possible, and then broke out the tools. It wasn’t easy going, however. None of them were workers by trade, and they weren’t accustomed to shelf-cutters and the like. They hacked at the stubborn rock, their tools sending sharp echoes through the water. Each thrust felt futile, the ocean resisting their intrusion with an almost living defiance.

“Let me see if this’ll work,” Mr. Albi said, taking up a sort of large mallet and trying to break rock with it. It did nothing more than to kick up dust, making it difficult for the rest of them to see.

Ms. Terri swam backwards a bit, taking in the scene. “Maybe if we move over some? There seems to be more of an opening back here.”

The group hacked at the stubborn rock, their efforts clumsy and unfocused, until frustration bubbled over.

“Everybody stop!” Marla commanded, deciding rightly that somebody needed to take charge.

It was a forceful enough statement to bring everyone out of their work-related reverie and bring their attention upon her.

“We’re not getting anywhere like this. So here’s what we’re going to do…Mr. Oliver sir, you collect the broken rocks, and move them out that way,—she pointed to a spot about two fathoms out—”and Ms. Terri and Mr. Albi will chip away the stones, and I’ll direct them. Sound like a plan?”

They all agreed readily, particularly as it seemed there was little chance for them to get anything done otherwise. They got back to work, and for a while they seemed to be making progress. A few times they even managed to knock off a good sized stone from the ledge, which made it look all the more promising for an adult body to navigate.

As they chipped away at the stubborn rock, a low, mechanical hum rippled through the water. A beam of blinding light pierced the murk, scattering the team. They looked up, dazzled and disoriented, as the aquasentinel craft came to rest just a few fathoms above their heads.

Two officers emerged and floated down.

“Headmaster Oliver, Identify yourself!” called the first sentinel in the mechanical, regulated tone all underwater officials used. An imposing figure of about a fathom in height, it was clear he meant business.

The second, though not as tall, followed the first with an even more commanding tone; “We have some questions. You’ll need to come with us.”

Oliver floated forward, hands raised in compliance. He was confused by the sudden appearance of these officials, but not yet anxious.

“You folks shouldn’t be here,” the smaller aquasentinel warned, her voice stern but edged with unease. “Nightfall’s coming, and these waters aren’t safe for anyone.”

The taller aquasentinel cast a glance toward the chasm, his expression unreadable. “This area’s off-limits for a reason, anyway,” he muttered, half to himself. “Damned foolish if you ask me, messing around here. Get us all killed.”

Ms. Terri opened her mouth to protest, and the senior sentinel shot her partner a warning glare, but Sentinel Marla stopped the escalation, motioning for calm. Both sides got the message and fell silent. No sense in further conflict when they were all about to leave.

“Where are you taking him?” Marla asked.

“Central processing,” said the shorter Aquasentinel.

“Can we join him there?”

The two shrugged—they didn’t care either way.

“Might be a while,” the taller one warned.

As the officers led Oliver away, Marla’s grip tightened on her tools. She’d been the one to push the group forward, and now it felt like she’d led them straight into a trap. She nodded at the two remaining teachers, and they began the long swim back.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

* * *

There wasn’t much for the teachers to do at city aquasentinel headquarters. The desk agent gave no information, and for all they knew the headmaster was under arrest, and would be staying a very long time. The sentinel had tagged along as well, despite the fact they barely knew one another. She had explained that she felt a certain sense of responsibility for the girls, given that she’d seen them out of the city on a number of occasions.

“Do you think the guard officers could be right?” Ms. Terri asked. “Could Headmaster Oliver have been behind it all.”

“Preposterous,” Albi said, “Oliver’s a good man. I’ve known him round about ten years now. He wouldn’t harm the hair off a student’s head. What we really ought to be doing is getting back to that chasm.”

“You heard the officers, though. It’s not safe in the dark.”

“We’re working down in the dark anyway,” said Marla. It seemed a sensible sentiment. They really hadn’t had to leave.

“What say we go back in the morning, eh?” Mr. Albi suggested.

The three of them agreed, and they waited an hour longer. Still with no word from the officers nor the headmaster, they saw no point in sticking around.

* * *

Deep inside city guard headquarters, in a little room lacking in light and amenities, Oliver sat and waited. They’d spoken to him at length when he first got in, then asked him to wait a few minutes, and hadn’t made a return appearance since.

Not sure what to do with himself, the technoquatic thought back to everything he’d been through in the past few days, wondering what he’d done to deserve this treatment. He was no murderer, there was that much. Nor an abductor or any of the other things they might be assuming here. No, he was a good man, and that fact would see him through.

Still, the situation was intimidating. Just a couple of hours ago he’d been busily trying to locate his lost pupils. A cold knot tightened in his chest. Did he need to seek counsel? He wondered if he shouldn’t ask for one right this minute, though to do so implied guilt in his mind, and he felt guilty enough as it was.

“Doing okay, Mr. Oliver?”

The voice of the female aquasentinel startled Oliver, and he looked up with what he was sure was a guilty expression.

“Oh, fine. Just fine. Can I…go now?”

“Just another few minutes,” said Aquasentinel Alison.

She entered the room alone. Oliver had no idea what happened to her partner, Lam.

“Now let’s go over what happened to the girls. You say you had no reason to expect any trouble from Calistya, is that right?”

“That’s right. Yes.”

“And yet she was the first to disappear? And this was after you expelled her friend, is that right?”

“Well, yes. It wasn’t related to the girls so much. Her school work had been slipping, and her teachers and I had been considering a transfer. The girl was really best suited to the trades, you see, and—”

“Right. Thank you. But even though Khrystal was the problem child, it was Calistya who disappeared first.”

Oliver hesitated, the words catching in his throat. ‘That’s…correct.”

“The one who rarely got in trouble? The one who excelled in all her school work?”

Oliver’s hesitation was even more glaring this time. “Yes,” he finally said, almost in a whisper. He felt an oozing trickle of shame, really starting to believe that he had somehow been negligent.

“And it was only after Khrystal was questioned by you and the school officials that she disappeared too.”

“Right. But—”

“What did she say when you explained that her friend was missing?”

Now he really hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he should go on at all, but particularly not without legal representation. Because Khrystal had been in a state that day. It was to be expected, really, with her friend disappearing and all. Just the same…

“Headmaster?”

“She said it was all my fault. Said that I was causing the girls too much stress, and that she’d probably run away just to get away from me. But, you see, Khrystal had reason to resent me. She knew I’d been in talks about her schooling, and potential future placement.”

“Yes, let’s talk about that a bit. Have you seen this?”

Guard Alison produced a scrap of parchment, across the top of which was scrawled ‘Dear Guard of the City:’. It looked to be the handwriting of a young, rather sloppy child.

“May I?” Oliver asked.

“Be my guest,” said the guard, handing the paper over.

Dear Guard of the City:

My name is Khrystal, and I’m a student at the Orphan’s Collective Institute for Girls. I’m writing to report trouble with our headmaster, Mr. Oliver. He beats us and tortures us and we can’t get away. He also threttons us girls, and has threatened us on some occashuns. We the students ask for an investigashun. The girls have asked me to write to you about this danger. Help!

“Well, I just don’t,” Oliver stammered, “I mean, you can’t possibly think this is serious.”

The words on the page blurred as he read them again. ‘Beats us…tortures us…’ Surely, Khrystal hadn’t written this. She’d always been dramatic, but outright lies? Still, a dark notion crept into his thoughts—had he been too harsh? Had his anger at her defiance gone further than he remembered?

Khrystal’s face flashed in his memory—the defiant set of her jaw, the fiery glare. He buried his face in his hands and took a long breath, then looked up at the sentinel questioning him.

If he was looking for empathy, he wasn’t going to find any here. “We take any mention of threats seriously, sir,” he said robotically. “Are you sure you haven’t seen this letter before?”

“Certainly not. If I had I’d—”

“You’d…what?”

Oliver took a breath. “I’d have had a talk with her.”

“I see. Alright sir. Sit tight. Let me get a few things together, and we’ll talk a little more. Alright?”

“Well, yes but…how much longer am I going to be here? It’s been a while now.”

“Oh, not much longer now. Just hang tight, we’ll be done soon enough…”