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Now, are you ready? Remember! It’s twelve seconds after I throw this switch!
Good luck, friend!
Lynne threw the switch, and the torpedo was loaded into the firing barrel. The hatch closed behind it, hydraulic joints locking it securely closed against the external pressure of incoming water. From her side, all Lynne could hear was a rattling sound, before a short burst of noise indicated the torpedo’s launch, carrying the three ghostly passengers to their final destination. She leaned back against the tilted floor of the submarine, not saying anything as she stared at the hatch, just as Kamila was doing. Time seemed to freeze as they both held their breath, counting the seconds.
1
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3
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5
6
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8
9
10
11
12!
… Lynne breathed out, a great sigh of exhaustion and release. So that was it, then. The torpedo had passed by the command room. She’d done all she could, and now the rest was up to them. Sissel, Jowd, Missile, and Yomiel.
Kamila stepped up to her side. “I hope they made it,” she said.
Lynne put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”
She sat down carefully amidst the torpedo room’s scattered contents, letting herself relax for what felt like the first time in a long, long while. She rubbed at her legs, trying to relieve some of the soreness that had accumulated there. Running to and fro around the city, the junkyard, the Chicken Kitchen, the Minister’s office, the submarine… she’d barely had a moment’s rest. What time was it? It must’ve been early in the morning by now. Unable to help herself, she yawned, rubbing at her eyes with her knuckles.
Kamila giggled. “Are you bored, Lynne? After everything?”
“No, no. Just--” She yawned again. “--Tired. Surely even kids your age get that way sometimes?”
“Sometimes,” Kamila admitted. She gave a small smile, before glancing around the room, eyes flitting over all the valves, switches, dials. There were so many machines here she’d only seen in shows or read about in books. In another time, she would’ve loved to visit a submarine, especially one as fancy as this, and see how it worked up close.
Somewhere below, metal creaked suddenly, and the sound of flowing water bubbled up towards them. Kamila flinched, stumbling on a metal railing as she stepped backwards.
Lynne reached out quickly, taking her hand and pulling the young girl gratefully into her lap, wrapping her arms around her. “Hey,” she said into Kamila’s ear. “It’s alright. It’s alright. “You’ve done amazingly, Kamila. I don’t think I could’ve been as brave as you, when I was your age.”
“...Thanks, Lynne.” Kamila sniffed, holding tightly to her friend. She wasn’t crying. She and Lynne were okay, after all. “You’re amazing too…”
Lynne didn’t respond immediately, gently stroking Kamila’s hair as she thought. She’d done this before, over the years. When the poor girl had gotten sick, or when she’d thought Missile had run away, or when she’d had nightmares. Each time, she’d held her close, and told her that it would be okay, that things would turn out better. That was what you were supposed to tell kids, she thought, even if it wasn’t always true.
“After this, I promise, we’re going to get some ice cream. I think we both deserve it.”
Kamila looked up. “Really? What kind?”
“Every kind. Chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, caramel, mint, hazelnut, banana, mango, raspberry, lime, I’ll pick up a bucket with a scoop of each.” Lynne closed her eyes as she imagined it, the cool, sweet taste of ice cream on her tongue. “And you know what, we’ll share it with Jowd. How does that sound?”
Kamila nodded, unable to help herself from smiling at the thought. “I think that sounds really nice. I don’t know his favourite flavour, so getting one of each would be good.”
“I wonder if Sissel would be able to try any…” Lynne mused. “Do you think he can taste things when he possesses them?”
“Ummm. I don’t know… I feel like he would’ve mentioned that. Maybe?”
“It’d be a real shame if he couldn’t.” Lynne leaned back, making a thoughtful sound. “Getting the powers of the dead, but having to give up your ability to taste and eat food… I don’t know if I’d take that trade, myself.”
Kamila snorted. “You’re so silly.” She relaxed in Lynne’s embrace, leaning against her. “I wonder if Missile knows that he won’t be able to eat anymore.”
Lynne’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. I don’t know if he’ll be able to handle that. We’ll have to be ready for when he realises.”
“At least we can still take him on walks, and stuff…” Kamila’s voice trailed off, silence taking its place. Except, it wasn’t silent, not fully. The shuddering of the submarine continued in the distance, out of sight, but not out of mind. Lynne wondered how far below the ocean surface they were now, how much further down the seafloor was. She remembered, vaguely, a science lesson she’d had once, about how water pressure increased the deeper you went. She hadn’t paid much attention, but the image of hard, solid metal crumpling like a piece of paper had stuck in her mind.
A shiver went up the back of her spine, and she pulled her jacket a little tighter around her shoulders. It was getting colder.
“...I hope they get back soon,” Kamila murmured, before a yawn came from her own throat, and her eyes fluttered.
“I’m sure they will.” Lynne sat up a little straighter, taking care not to jostle Kamila too much, and looked around. Trying to see if anything was shaking, shifting or falling over, mechanisms whirring of their own accord. The telltale signs of a ghostly presence. And the signs that in four minutes, she, or Kamila, would be dead.
She couldn’t tell. Nothing seemed to be moving, though every now and then the room seemed to tremble slightly. But then, the water still had a ways to go before it reached them, at the very front of the submarine. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes.
Funny to think about it like that. She’d died… how many times over the course of this night? Five? Her memories of each time were a little vague, compared to how things ‘really’ went, in the final version of events. But she was still herself, in those four minutes that never happened. And now she’d know, if weird things started happening, what that meant.
She sighed, rubbing her head. It was incredible to think that ghosts, manipulators, time travel, all would’ve seemed like a wild story to her only yesterday, and she was still trying to wrap her head around all of it. Maybe she’d make one of those big cork boards later, with all the string and pins and notes, so she could sort out everything that’d happened. She’d always wanted to make one of those, as a detective.
Kamila shifted slightly. Her eyes were closed as she rested against Lynne’s arms. But she was still tense, her breath catching as she sniffed. Lynne could feel her shaking, though she was trying to hide it. All the adrenaline was gone, the frantic moving and talking and reuniting and solving problems, the bad guys, the ghosts. Now it was just the two of them, alone in a sinking submarine.
Lynne squeezed her shoulders, putting on a light tone. “Hey, Kamila. I promise I’ll wake you when they get back, alright? Don’t worry.”
The girl nodded, not looking up. In a slow, quiet whisper, she asked, “...Can you, sing something, Lynne? Like you used to…”
Lynne thought for a moment. Then, in that cramped torpedo room at the bottom of the ocean, beneath the artificial lights that were beginning to grow dimmer and shut off, her voice drifted outwards, washing over the young girl in her arms, drowning out the sound of bending metal and rushing water that was slowly getting closer.
When I was just a little girl,
I asked my mother, what will I be?
Will I be pretty?
Will I be rich?
Here's what she said to me.
Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be.
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be…