It took an hour.
The salt began to outweigh the chemicals.
The boat finally slowed.
“Alright,” called the captain. “We’re here. We’ve got a few hours before the weather’s due to turn.”
Carl tossed a small metal anchor over the side. Elias felt the chime of every link in the chain that followed it down.
Their small group was shining.
“Sunniest it’s been in years,” commented one man.
“Might just be in luck,” said another.
“C’mon!” said Miriam, grabbing Elias’ hand and pulling him to his feet. She half-guided, half-dragged him to the port side.
“I think it’s over there,” she said, pointing.
The sun was blinding, and the sky was still too big. But when he followed her finger, he saw it.
“Whoa,” he said, pointing to match her. “Right there.”
He could see a slight glow under the water. A roiling in the waves. And he could hear something. A grinding of metal.
Miriam peered next to him, eyes searching. “Ems,” she called, and the woman in the big hat turned. “Can we use those binoculars?”
The woman passed them over and Miriam put them to her face. She panned, left and right, before stopping. “I’ll be damned,” she said. And called out, “It’s over here.”
The group rushed over to them, the boat listing slightly under the weight. Binoculars - one man even had a small telescope - passed among them.
“No, over there!”
“Are you su- oh, I see it.”
They were buzzing.
“Captain Erin, can you take us closer?” asked one of the men.
The captain shrugged, and gunned the engine. “Yeah. Plenty of room.”
“Sharp eyes,” murmured Miriam. “How’s that treating you?”
Elias looked at her. Surprised by her cold tone.
“Just lucky,” he stammered.
“You don’t even know what you saw, do you?” she asked. “People come and try for years and never get a glimpse.”
He looked at her.
“Something of a giveaway, is all,” she said, turning away.
As the boat moved closer, the glow under the sea grew. The muted buzzing and grinding was louder in his ears.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” said the woman with the hat. “I saw it twelve years ago, but never this close.”
He could see it properly now. Blurred a little under the waves. A vast, metal structure. Parts of it still glowing with light. And movement, across its surface.
“The repair bots are still working!” said another man.
“That’s, what, nine years past guarantee?” asked another.
“It’s a storm grid,” said Miriam, quietly.
“What?”
“Well, part of one, anyway,” she said “I thought you might be wondering.”
Elias looked. She looked back. Calm.
The others were chattering among each other. Pictures, exclamations, good-natured quarrels about what they were looking at.
“It’s more impressive than I thought it’d be,” said Miriam. She gazed out at the water. “Some things just endure.”
“How-?” he ventured.
“Because for all that planning, Elias, you’re not actually very clever.” She shook her head.
“Then when?”
“I got told the moment you booked your room. I’d guess sometime well before that.”
He could smell his own perspiration souring. “You can’t stop me,” he ventured. Not believing it.
Miriam laughed once. Then her smile disappeared. “Be thankful you’ve given these people the thrill of discovery,” she said. “You got some use out of the implant after all.”
“You can have it back,” he said, quickly. “I can cut it out.”
She turned away from him. Looked out at the ruin beneath the waves.
Elias could only look as well.
They returned to the island a few hours later. The skies had darkened, and the captain turned down the pleas for “just ten more minutes.”
Miriam hadn’t spoken to him again. Even when he ventured a glance at her, she was always looking away.
There was a drizzle in the air by the time they reached the dock. People scurried to their rooms. Singles and pairs. “Good eyes, thanks,” muttered someone as they politely pushed past.
Even Miriam didn’t wait.
Elias realized he was the last passenger.
He got out. Carl and his mom ignored him. He walked slowly back to his room.
Nobody was waiting for him.
Just the bed.
And his case.
And the pouch.
Miriam was right. He’d been stupid. This was as far as his plan took him. He’d thought things would go quiet, that he’d have time.
But at least he’d been smart enough to give himself an out.
He got the razor blade from the pouch and went to the tiny bathroom. The lightbulb was bare, and the mirror had a crack in it. It was bright, though, and that’s all he needed. He touched his neck and found the tiny bump again.
It was close to the surface. It’d only take a moment. He could give it back.
He brought the razor blade up. And froze.
The implant sent ice through him like a bolt. His raised hand trembled slightly as he tried to move it.
Elias blinked. And tried to will the implant to relax.
There was a knock at the door. And, after a moment, the sound of a key.
Part 3 of a three-part story from the Static Drift universe.
Article photo by Curated Lifestyle on Unsplash.