Our heads came out of the water, both of us gasping for air, both of us trying to do so as quietly as possible. Overhead, the sounds of gunfire and crashing, smashing containers told a story of a continuing three-sided fight. The gap between ship and shore was shockingly narrow, maybe just a couple of meters, but we could see a little bit above us.
We were under the cantilevered crane structure for the first dockside gantry, but it was bent at a crazy angle and didn’t appear to be still working. Farther up the dock, the second dock crane was just dropping a container onto the side of the cargo ship, the metal bomb bridging the gap between the vessel and the dock. Then something spun out from the ship and slammed into the crane, shaking the ship as debris rained down, some falling into the gap and down to the ocean around us.
“We can’t go that way; the AIs are slugging it out,” Astrid said, spitting out a mouthful of water. “That way, behind us, has no cover. If anyone is still paying attention, we’ll be fish in a barrel.”
I looked around for an idea, any idea. Something hit the water behind us, something big, making huge splash, and it hit farther out than the stacker had. My first thought was an actual car or truck, driven at speed off the dock. But when I ducked my head under the water and opened my eyes to look, nothing was sinking. Something big and orange was bobbing to the surface—something with a curving, enclosed boat shape to it.
I lifted my head and turned to Astrid. “The lifeboat thingy is in the water. Whoever has the ship must have dropped it.”
She looked at me for a split second. “They’re called free-fall lifeboats and they have diesel engines!” she said, immediately starting a strong forward crawl stroke toward the back of the ship. I followed and a few seconds later, we came around the ship’s stern and spotted the orange boat floating ten meters away. We wasted no time swimming for it, finding a set of ropes looped along the side of the boat which, up close, was quite a bit bigger than I thought it would be. Grabbing the rope loops, we pulled up to the side passenger door, which Astrid got open with a little effort. She climbed in and I hauled myself in behind her. The boat was catamaran styled and the inside had a built-in bench with passenger safety straps running all along the walls. Astrid was already in the driver’s seat and she got the engine started on the first try.
She smiled at me triumphantly until the fiberglass top and side splintered apart under a barrage of e-mag rounds. She pushed the throttle forward and drove the lifeboat toward the cargo ship as fast as it would go, veering to the left to get on the ocean side, putting the entire bulk of the ship between us and the shooters.
With a moment to breathe, I started to take stock. I still had my pistol with a partial magazine in it and a full spare. There were waterproof containers carefully stored around the interior of the lifeboat and when I screwed the top off the biggest one, I found four big handheld aerial signal flares and a bright yellow UHF radio. The batteries were good and as soon as I turned the emergency radio on, I heard a familiar voice. “AJ… Astrid Johnson… come in,” it said in mechanical tones that I would recognize anywhere.
“Rikki?”
“Affirmative. Be advised dockside facilities are not safe. Elements of both hostile human combatants and Plum Blossom-controlled assets are still active and currently engaged in conflict. In addition, NYPD officers have surrounded the container facility, but are unable to enter due to ongoing hostilities. Recommend you head twenty-one degrees north for seven hundred meters minimum before seeking shore. Acknowledge.”
“Affirmative, Rikki Tikki. We are proceeding in the direction you have indicated,” I said, exchanging a glance with Astrid, who just nodded before looking at the big compass mounted among her controls.
“Be advised that Zone Defense IRSF aircraft are inbound to attempt recovery. Strongly advise against seeking aid from those forces. Probability of compromised personnel is over eighty percent. Instead, dock emergency vessel at fifth wharf north of container facility. Suitable transport will be awaiting you. Acknowledge.”
I keyed the mike. “Affirmative.”
The radio stayed silent, Rikki being an AI of few words, so instead I turned to my driver who, even wearing dripping water and running makeup, could still take my breath away. “So all hell is breaking loose.”
“I thought it did that earlier. But the conspiracy ship is sinking, and the biggest rats are finally trying to plug the holes,” she said.
I looked around and spotted water bubbling up in a few places where the highly energetic e-mag rounds had punched all the way through the tough little boat. “Do you absolutely have to use sinking ship references?”
She looked where I was looking and snorted. “We’re fine. Take more than a few little holes to sink this thing. We’re almost there; look,” she said, pointing out the little cockpit window.
I looked. We were passing the third wharf and I could see the fifth one coming into view up ahead. Unlike the other four, which were very industrial looking in a nautical shipping kind of way, this one was flat and park-like. So park-like that after a few seconds of looking at it, I realized it was, in fact, part of the Brooklyn Bridge Park.
We got closer and closer, Astrid steering us into the nearest docking berth. Sudden motion on the shoreline caught my eye. A massive metal vehicle came roaring around the path and onto the quay. Low-slung and armored, it had eight big wheels, was painted all black, and sported a squared-off housing on its roof that I happened to know contained a remotely operated GE M-134 minigun.
“Is that…” I asked.
“Ours? Yeah. How it got here, I have no idea,” she replied, pulling the lifeboat up to the wharf like she’d been doing it all her life. I grabbed the side of the wharf while she killed the engine and stepped out onto the concrete dock. She tied up the boat and then I jumped to the dock beside her.