THE ROVERS BECAME SENTIENT AGAIN. Shetel already had the Linda Ann fired up and ready to go. They stampeded on board so hard and fast folks would’ve thought there was love involved.
The Linda Ann slit the water then dribbled alcohol into its wounds because it meant business.
The Ann was damn near omniscient. Bats out of hell jumped back and cussed
No one had spotted aircraft or other rovers. It would’ve taken some serious jumps to get Buford all the way back to the coast. Nobody could do that.
But guess what? Milo told himself. What I believe has never held particular sway over what is.
There was absolutely no boat in sight, no abnormal energy signatures within range…
A head start just meant they were playing hard to get.
“Quicho, fly her apart at the seams,” he said to the Ann’s captain.
Desiree’s eyes remained steady on the water and secure on the controls. “I know how to put her back together,” she answered.
She extended the airfoils a little more.
She radioed her husband.
“Chase him down,” husband said to wife.
“We’ll be back.”
“Goes without saying. We’ll be here.”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said.
“A plan’s only useful till a simpler option shows up,” Smoove said. “Is Milo near you?”
“Yes.”
“Put him on. Milo? Anger ain’t ya friend.”
“This coming from you?” he said.
“From Ele. Good hunting, brother.”
“Hotep and irie.” Milo left for the Battle Ready Bastards below.
“Luv?” said Smoove.
“It’s gonna take a while for us to finish that house.”
“A plan’s only a plan,” he said.
“Send a good one our way,” she said.
“I would if I could. We might have to get involved in their politics.”
She warned against it.
“They’re not giving us much choice, Sweets.”
Way too much of that going around. Backs against the wall everywhere.
A sudden blast of static interrupted them.
Something very large moved underwater from behind them with the speed and mass of a comet.
“Milo!” Desiree shouted.
The bow wave was an underwater tsunami headed straight for the ship. Fish and dragoon shot above the surface of the water stunned or half dead.
The last thing Desiree heard was “Luv?” before she shunted out the world to pour every last bit of soul into that ship. Even a pleasure boater knows to pay attention to sonar! she berated herself.
A ship the size of the Ann wasn’t supposed to ride breakers the way it was.
Ramses and Milo appeared simultaneously.
“Hold on!” Ramses bellowed to the angels below decks. To Milo: “There is no way in hell Buford woke him up.”
“Not a narwhal, brother.”
Desiree pulled hard to starboard, angling the Ann toward the weakest end of the explosive burst. The mass changed course.
Ra’asiel threw three breach suits to Milo’s outstretched hand. “Smoove, we got problems!” shouted Milo. He and Ramses hurriedly dressed Desiree in pieces as she whipped the Ann apart at the seams, the captain raising first this arm here then a leg there, before dressing themselves.
Everyone donned full breathing gear.
Because in all probability, they were going down.
“Quicho!” Smoove ordered tersely, but by now there was nothing but sustained static on his end.
~~~
Linda Ann slid as though made of soap on top of that water, doing enough zigzagging and doubling back that the mass wasn’t sure precisely where to break the surface.
It gave an irritated strong push of its triple-fluked tail and elongated its island body in a huge semicircle around the ship.
Desiree threw them into a hard port skid that nearly capsized them.
The sleek black ship rode a wave up and down before slamming against the beast’s encrusted hide. A gash opened across the hull’s flank plating. Monitors squealed beneath Desiree’s eyes.
“We’re taking water,” she said.
Ramses and Milo scrambled below decks.
“No the fuck you are not,” Desiree told her ship. She set the ship into as wide and fast a spiral away from the hide as possible, retracting the starboard hydrofoil and further extending the port.
Below decks, those Bastards had torches and solder plating in hand.
Ramses pulled a sack from a locker.
Milo and Ramses grabbed sets of clamps, slung two huge guns to their backs and waited on deck. When the Ann made its closest arc inward toward Leviathan, they launched.