Sally's Secret

Chapter 15

A/N: Official warning of content change. I'm not sure if it warrants "mature"  because that basically comes down to whether the violence is "graphic" or not. This chapter has violence (hence the warning) but not really graphic. The next few will be a matter of opinion. Please let me know in the future if you think the violence level warrants "mature".  Definitely not for kids after this chapter.

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Gordon and Virgil got called out before they finished eating, but as Gordon was eating his third cupcake, Maria didn't feel sorry for him. Virgil took a handful of jerky and homemade pepperoni sticks as he ran out, so Maria felt he was covered too. Everyone had left the lower level except Maria and Sally when Scott wandered in, grumbling about the GDF being unreasonable over something or other. He grabbed a cookie and started to munch and then he saw the colander full of fresh radishes. His eyes lit up and he put down his cookie. "Grandma, who went on a supply run? These weren't here yesterday."

Sally sent a covert wink to Maria, and then smiled smugly at Scott. "No one has been on a supply run in over a week, Scott. Maria grew them in our garden."

"Just pulled out of the ground two hours ago," Maria added.

He looked deflated to hear that Maria had had anything to do with his precious radishes, but he grabbed one by the leaves and took a bite anyway. "Mm. Not bad." Which probably meant he found them utterly delicious and couldn't find a way to pretend not to like them. He pulled half a dozen out of the colander and onto his plate.

Maria decided to see if she could get some kind of positive conversation from him. "We'll have tomatoes and cucumbers in a couple of weeks, hopefully. Anything else you'd like me to try to grow for you?"

Scott crunched several times and appeared not to swallow before talking around the food, "More of these would be good."

She smiled. "I'll look and see if I have any more seeds."

"If not, we'll get more," Sally promised.

Maria turned to cleaning up the kitchen while Scott browsed leftovers in the refrigerator, then zapped something to eat with his produce. John interrupted his lunch with a situation, but when Scott was gone, so were more than half of the radishes from the colander.

"You ready for the stairs?" Maria asked her boss. With most of the boys out on missions, it was a given she'd be heading to the lounge.

"Yes, but you be sure and bring that laundry for me to fold," Sally said.

"I will."

"Are you going swimming today?"

"After a little more gardening."

"Virgil was right, you know. Scott will come around eventually. Don't neglect your personal time trying to win him over." It really was uncanny how perceptive Sally was.

Maria shook her head. "The most I could have is half a package of seeds. It shouldn't take long to plant and water them. Dinner is finished, so I have plenty of time for my swim."

Maria made sure Sally was comfortable and brought her a basket of clean clothes, as requested. She would be happy to fold clothes herself, but if it made Sally feel more useful to be able to do it, who was she to deny her that? She could do it seated and it didn't involve much energy.

Maria found the rest of the radish seeds and planted them in the spot where she had pulled the others, reasoning that it must be a good spot to grow them if it worked once before. She worked some organic fertiliser into the soil and watered everything down well.

Back in the house, she washed her hands and changed into her diveskin suit. It wasn't neoprene like a wetsuit, but blue, teal, and aqua printed lycra, with considerably more coverage than the average bathing suit. Maria unfortunately inherited more of her father's anglo skin and less of her mother's Mexican melanin. Both sunburning and skin cancer were concerns, but she also disliked her body enough to feel it should be hidden as much as possible. Her suit stopped just below the knees and elbows, with a fairly high neck, but no collar. She pulled her puka shell necklace to the outside of the suit so it wouldn't leave weird impressions on her neck.

Maria tucked her hair into a yellow silicone swim cap. It didn't keep her hair dry, but she appreciated the way it kept it out of her eyes and gave her a slight advantage against the drag. It had been a habit ever since a swim coach had been so adamant about wearing them that she didn't even think twice now, even though competition was no longer at stake. She slipped into her rubber jandals, grabbed a towel and her swim goggles, and headed down to the lagoon. On a big volcanic rock, she left her towel, jandals, wristwatch, and eyeglasses. The latter she traded for the swim goggles, whose only purpose was to keep stinging saltwater out of her eyes. Since the plastic lenses on the goggles didn't match her prescription, they didn't help her see, except to make it possible to open her eyes and make out the blurry outlines that prevented her from colliding with the rocky shoreline.

Her first thought on entering the water was how much easier it was to swim in a diveskin and cap versus a dress and unbound hair. Her second thought was now that she knew at least one basking shark had turned up in these waters, maybe she should save up for a full-face mask so she could wear her glasses under it like Brains wore his glasses under his rescue helmet. Then she could see all the animals and corals and even the sunken wreckage on her swims, without needing Thunderbird 4.

Her next thoughts were of Virgil and his sweet kisses and his gentle manner and wondering when they might get some time together again. Out alone in the ocean, she indulged in a fantasy of getting his shirt off and having him lie down so she could give him a massage. She had no masseuse training, but she knew anatomy. But most of all, she just really, really wanted to get her hands on his trapezius and those magnificent deltoids of his. She knew she didn't have the guts to ask for this privilege. Touching and massaging was a little too intimate, but she could imagine what it would be like and hope for a day she wouldn't be too shy to bring it up.

Lost in the rhythm of her crawl strokes and the enthralling fantasy playing in her mind, and not able to see much without her glasses, she never perceived the tiny black submersible lying below the surface just a few dozen metres away. It made no sound, staying hidden from any aircraft by remaining submerged and motionless.

Without warning, rough hands grabbed her by the waist and pulled her straight down. It seemed at first to be just two hands, but the next second it seemed like four or maybe even six. She had no time to make sense of what was happening. Her eyes gave her only the colour black against the blue of the water and lots of frantic blurred motion before her goggles got knocked off in the scuffle. She thrashed around, trying to kick and push her assailants off. Something caught on her necklace and turned it into a garrotte against her throat until she felt it snap. Struggling for breath and freedom, she couldn't even worry about the loss of the family heirloom. The attacking force was too strong and she couldn't overcome it. The pressure against her eardrums told her she was getting further from the surface, not closer. Her air was running out and drowning was imminent.

It was at this point that she felt a rebreather mask thrust over her nose and mouth. She could not avoid the overwhelming urge to inhale any longer anyway, so she gulped at the proffered lifeline.

The gas that passed her olfactory senses on its mad rush to her oxygen-starved lungs had several peculiar odors mingling in it, one of which she could identify as suspiciously ether-like. The other odors were unfamiliar, but clearly she was not breathing just air. She tried to push the mask away, but found her muscles no longer responding to her brain's commands. Panic lasted only a split-second before unconsciousness swallowed her whole. Her body went limp and the struggle ended.