Three days, Harriet sighed, three days since they’d been manhandled into transport shuttles, and dived back into slip. She had no idea where they were now other than the whole crew, officers and ratings were sitting handcuffed in a nearly pitch black warehouse. Marines surrounded them with weapons at the ready. Harriet thought that this was probably it and shuffled closer to Sparrow (it had taken her most of the first day of their captivity to find her and then shuffle towards her without one of the guards noticing) and rested against the smaller girl. She wanted to put her arms around her again, just one last time, but the bonds around her wrists prevented it. The whole crew was similarly bound, subdued, in the warehouse, dimly lit and anonymous. Perfect spot to execute the surviving hundred or so hands of the Whittington.
“I think this is it this time Sparrow,” she said sadly.
“It would seem so,” Sparrow said glumly, “I’m so sorry I got you caught up in this Harri, if you never had met me you’d be safe.”
“I’d be dead or dead inside still, not sure which is worse to be honest, meeting you is the best thing that ever happened in my life,” Harriet hotly disputed before leaning in to kiss Sparrow’s cheek gently. “You’re not something I’ll ever regret.”
“Thanks Harri,” the other girl said blushing deeply, “I think I feel the same. This is all so new to me but I think if I’d never met you I’d have never escaped my programming, not really, I’d have never really lived for my own sake without you. You showed me I wanted a different life for myself.”
“A quiet apartment, home cooked food, a couple of kiddies?” Harriet quipped.
“No silly,” Sparrow said, smiling up at her, “it’s you, wherever you go I want to follow you. Whether I go I trust you’ll follow me.”
“You know it,” Harriet smiled, “and if there is a next life, I’m dragging you up there with me.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the scraping of the warehouse doors opening. Light flooded into the half darkness so bright Harriet had no chance of making out who the figures were who had opened the door - all she could make out were their silhouettes which made clear they were heavily armed.
“Quiet down,” shouted the man in the centre of the group, “anyone with their mouth open in three seconds time is getting shot, am I clear.”
The room fell silent.
“Good, smart,” the man said to the room before continuing. “Right, stand up: Commander Hernandez, Lieutenant Commander Desai, Captain of Marines Choudary, Chief Engineer Liu, Warrant Officer Class 2 Macleod and Leading Tech Ellis.”
Harriet and Sparrow stood up and across the room she could see the others getting to their feet. The man addressing them was suddenly illuminated by an overhead light that had just been flicked on. He cut an intimidating figure with the shadows spread sinisterly across the pale skin of his face.
“Going to make an example of us,” the Captain spat out.
“Perhaps,” the man said, offering nothing else.
The other men broke off and seized the six of them, hoods were shoved carelessly over their heads plunging Harriet into darkness. She felt herself being manoeuvred into the back of a van and shoved to the floor. “Sparrow,” she called out in the darkness, “I’m here Sparrow,” Harriet tried to reassure her friend.
“Harri,” she heard a whisper come back from behind her.
“Keep it down,” came a third angry voice and Harriet chose to shut up - at least Sparrow was still with her. Eventually, Harriet and the others were manhandled into the back of a van, or something like it, who could tell.
Whatever, they were in it could certainly motor as it hurtled down whatever road it was driving on at breakneck speed. Even so, the ride seemed to take forever, but eventually it stopped and they were led out, through a series of winding corridors (the temperature change signalling they were back inside a building) and sat down in some relatively comfortable seats. Suddenly their hoods were ripped off, in the same rough fashion they’d been put on, leaving Harriet blinking furiously in the sudden bright light.
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“For fucks sake,” was all Amir could say as his eyes adjusted and he became aware of his surroundings. They were in the Guildhall, in the bloody great hall again. No wonder he hated this place. Slowly looking up he saw they were sitting on one side of the table, the Captain on his right, Chloe and Desai to his left and finally Sparrow and Harriet sat at each of the far ends. None of this concerned him right now though - he was more preoccupied by the three men sat on the other side of the table - none other than Lord Mayor Ellis, Harriet’s father, the Admiral of the Fleet and another officer he had never seen before but had the rank of Rear Admiral on his sleeves.
“You realise by rights,” the Lord Mayor began, “you should all be dead. Perhaps that would still be the best thing and if this conversation doesn’t go exactly as I want, that's exactly what will happen to you and the rest of the crew of the Whittington.”
“Nice to see you again, Father,” Harriet spat from across the room. Shit, thought Amir, god save them all from teenagers.
“You shut up,” he turned to her angrily, “blood or not you’ll suffer the same fate as the rest of them. You made your choice after all.”
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Thankfully Harriet shrunk back into a sullen silence, Amir was impressed at her ability to throw a sulk even in these circumstances. After pacing the length of the table a couple of times the Lord Mayor returned to the centre of the room and addressed them.
“Do you know that this Corporation is the oldest continuous polity in human civilisation, over two thousand years old now. Not as long lived as the Roman Empire or the Chinese, but we’re doing better than a lot of them; certainly the British, and unlike any of those empires we still exist.” He paused for a while before continuing. “Do you know why we still exist? It is because every single decision made by every Lord Mayor since Henry FitzAlan has been absolutely ruthless - taken to ensure the continued survival of the Corporation in a world surrounded by bigger, more brutish powers. We bend, we appease, we submit, we control, we dominate, we crush; whatever we have to to ensure our continued survival and that is the sole reason you sit here now and are not lying in a morgue somewhere.”
“Ade,” he said, gesturing at the Rear Admiral, “you take over, I’m sick of the sight of them already.”
The Rear Admiral nodded and leant forwards towards them in his chair, an insincere smile spreading across his face. He was an old man, certainly well passed the age of retirement for even a flag officer. He had short, clipped, grey hair and a build that certainly once had been powerful but was now slowly wasting away. Still his dark black skin was unwrinkled and his brown eyes intelligent and piercing. All that combined so he projected an air of controlled menace and a calculating intelligence.
“I’m Rear Admiral Adewola,” he said again, “you won’t have heard of me but I suspect we’ll all be getting to know each other very soon. In fact my existence, my rank, my squadron and the work it does are State Secrets. But my role is to monitor and let’s say resolve existential threats to the Corporation and I’m not talking about the Americans or the Chinese or anything like that. That’s what the rest of the Navy is for. What I’m talking about is what you found in the slip. It clearly wasn’t natural; something made it and we need to find out who did and whether they are still out there and exactly how much more powerful than us they are. That they are more powerful is readily apparent from their abilities to construct such an impossible structure in the slip. Hopefully they have long exited stage left off the universe, but if they haven’t we have to find them.”
Amir had a horrible thought about what was coming next.
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Olivia looked over at Amir, and his grim expression and realised he’d worked out what she just had.
“You want us to search for them?” she said bluntly.
“Yes,” the Rear Admiral said, “in fact you’re the only ones who can; hence your continued survival. This isn’t something we can permit the wider Navy, and indeed the wider population to know about. Luckily, my analysts have concluded that it is impossible to see the anomaly you encountered through sensor scans - even those mediated through our interface technology. It was only your,” he paused, “unconventional piloting set up that enabled you to observe it and no we don’t know why, but it does mean that normally piloted ships can’t see it. Perhaps this explains some of our unexplained losses in the slip over the centuries, perhaps not..and they also don’t have their pilots sitting on the quarter deck.
“Yes,” he continued, “what Ms Liu did was very clever, so was your own work Commander Hernandez, but you know what - the people I have working for me are cleverer and have more resources available to them - it wasn’t hard to work out what you had done.”
He leant back smugly in a way that infuriated Olivia, still this wasn’t just her life on the line but that of the whole crew; so she bit her tongue.
“So here’s the offer,” he said looking at the Lord Mayor, who nodded, “you’ll only get one chance to say yes to this so think carefully before you answer. The Whittington will be transferred to my command - what that means to the outside world is that the Whittington suffered a catastrophic drive failure upon exiting the slip and was destroyed with the loss of all hands. You will cease to exist for all intents and purposes. You will be my hunters - seeking out more of these anomalies and trying to find out who made them. Indefinitely, none of you will ever retire - this is a job for life I’m afraid. For you and your crew. I’ve got some resources I will redeploy to you to make up for your losses, and I can’t emphasise this enough, who will make sure you don’t decide to do anything,” he paused again, “unwise.”
“The Whittington will be retrofitted with some special kit only my squadron gets as well,” he said, leaning forwards in his chair again, grinning menacingly, “So, what say you all: a quick death or a long life of unrewarded service?”
Olivia sighed deeply before answering. “What choice do we have?”
“Sometimes death is the kinder choice,” the Rear Admiral offered.
“But where there’s life there’s hope,” Ms Liu added suddenly.
“You can certainly choose to believe that Ms Liu,” he replied, “if it gives you comfort.”
Olivia looked at Desai, who’s unchanging grimness persisted, he merely shrugged at her in response.
“Fine,” Olivia finally answered, “we accept.”
“A choice,” Admiral Adewola said cryptically, “welcome to the Black Squadron. We’ll take you back now and leave it to you to explain to your crew.”
“Thanks for that,” Olivia said sarcastically.
“Don’t be like that, Ms Hernandez, we are after all restoring you to the rank of Captain. Desai, you’re promoted to full Commander. Mr Choudary, Lieutenant Colonel. Ms Liu, you’ll retain your position as Chief Engineer but I’m giving you the rank of Lieutenant Commander as you’re now third in command. Ms Sparrow, you will continue as pilot and the senior Warrant on board but you can officially use your own name if you want, or carry on as Rita MacCleod, makes no difference to my mind.”
“Finally,” he said, turning towards Harriet, “Ms Ellis, out of respect to your father you have a different choice. You can accept the offer made to the rest of the crew or you can be released into the care of your family - under permanent house arrest of course.”
“I made my choice,” Harriet replied coldly, “I’ll take my chances on the Whittington.”
“Good,” the rear Admiral replied, “as I’ve already promoted you to Petty Officer and I really couldn’t be bothered to change all the paperwork.”
“Is that all Sir?” Olivia said finally as a sullen silence filled the room. The Lord Mayor was staring at his daughter with unashamed contempt. The Lord High Admiral had sat impassively throughout; finally though he was stirring himself.
“Let it be known,” he said hauntingly, “I thoroughly disagree with all this. To my mind the best thing would have been to have had you all shot. Still, Ade here thinks he wants you for some reason and has convinced the Lord Mayor. Just know if you ever set foot in here again it will be to hear me announce your executions. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” Oliva said coldly, before slowly adding, “sir.”