When the day of his transfer arrived, Coda-9994 finally found it in himself to be excited. More space to swim, new things to do, and farewell to the fishbowl he loved to hate...that was all fine and jolly, except for the part about being packed up in a giant box without any water and ground-shipped like Jim's new clothes. As they lowered the sling into the water, he took one last look around those damned walls. Without even a speck of sorrow, he swam into the sling and let them lift him out of the water.
Immediately, he regretted it. Not because he would never see his old prison again, but because without the weightlessness of being submerged, his sixty tons all weighed down on him at once. There was an outburst of metallic cacophony as the ceiling opened up, revealing a darkening evening sky. Coda had never seen the sky before, so he tried to focus on how pretty it was, instead of the fact that he was being lifted by a crane.
His earpieces buzzed. "You good there, buddy?"
- Jolly. The sky is fabulous! –
Talking to Jim still felt a little awkward, but he supposed it would pass with time. Either that, or they had to think of some way to make it up to each other. As they lowered him into the massive shipping container, his flukes hit the back wall. Pain lanced up his spine. They moved him forward a little. That's better, he thought.
They detached him from the crane. The loose mesh of the sling fell over his back, and the top of the container slid shut, blocking out all light. He tried to send another message to Jim.
- It's dark as hell in here. –
[MESSAGE SEND FAILURE. TRY AGAIN?]
His headset started beeping obnoxiously. Message send failure? How was that even possible? Coda shut the device off and closed his eyes, deeply aggravated with the situation. Soon, he told himself, he would be able to swim again, and with more space than before.
He tried pretending that he was stranded on a beach, and that the tide would come in and rescue him. Not that he really knew what tide was. He remembered Jim explaining it to him as the moon and sun pulling on Earth's ocean. How did that make any sense? The moon and sun didn't have...
Gravity, he reminded himself. It's all gravity. Makes the world go 'round, keeps everything on the ground...Coda tried to make a little song out of it, but was unsuccessful at best. The vehicle's engine roared to life, startling him. What a maddening sound it was. There was an odd sensation of rolling forward, which Coda decided was somewhat pleasant.
Between the grumbling engine and the fact that he was out of water, it was a miracle beyond fathom that Coda dozed off. He dreamed that Amy stood at the edge of his pool, honking like an automobile while the Ancient Mariner from the poem did handstands on his head, wearing nothing but his undergarment, the Albatross, and a single sock.
He woke up feeling mildly terrified.
.........
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the massive transport truck rumbled by, led and followed by security vehicles. That whale would be free one day, but first, they had to free the boy. Ice Five sat beside Gregor Faustus in his car, silently dreading what was to come. They knew it would likely be the end of them if they weren't careful.
"You're awfully quiet," said Greg. "What's on your mind?"
"Same thing that's on yours," Fiver told him. "I'm running through the plan. Most of the bluejackets should be gone when we get there, because they're guarding Coda's transport truck. You're going to divert the ones that are still there."
"How am I going to to that, again?" he asked.
Fiver handed him an old, battered-looking flip-phone. "Call them and tell them you saw me over by the supermarket, or somewhere else decently far away from here, and that I've got company and a weapon. Understand?"
"Whose phone is that?" he asked.
"Chris's. No idea why he still has a flip-phone, but he said we could use it tonight," said Fiver. "Ready?"
Dr. Faustus flipped the phone open, dialed in the number, and held it up to his ear. Putting on his best impression of panic, he gasped. "I saw Ice Five and a few others back behind the ValuMart. They're armed. I thought Ice Five was caught...please, help!" He waited a second, then hung up. Fiver gave him a thumbs-up. They waited another few minutes until the cars zipped past, signifying that the hunt was on. Only now, Ice Five was the hunter.
When the sirens were out of earshot, and the sky was completely dark, Fiver got out of the car. They put the hood up on their jacket, glanced around to ensure they weren't being followed, and ran down the cracked sidewalk. With the buildings so dark and the streets so quiet, they blended in like a black cat in the night. Where is everybody? Fiver wondered for a moment, but brushed it aside.
They rounded a corner and came around to the back of the detainment facility. Their heart raced as adrenaline coursed through them. That was a problem, Fiver thought. Adrenaline meant something was going wrong. But everything had gone right so far, had it not?
They crept along the back fence, careful to evade security cameras, though they supposed no one was there to watch them. After a moment, Fiver stopped, recognizing the telltale ticking of electricity in the fence wires. That complicated matters.
Looking around, Fiver noticed something else. A length of pipe stuck out of a nearby dumpster, as if placed there on purpose. Strange. Fiver wondered whether it was all some peculiar setup, or if they were simply being paranoid. Regardless of their qualms, they grabbed the pipe and shoved it under the lowest wire, propping it up to create a gap through which to crawl.
They wriggled under the fence, pulled the pipe out, and looked up. Cameras glared down from the roof. Fiver sighed. Not like this would have gone unnoticed anyhow, they reminded themselves. Just get the job done.
They ran up to the back door, only to discover a code lock with a sticky note pressed over it. Fiver pulled it off and read it. Written in Roman's shaky handwriting were two words.
you LOSE
They stared at the memo, wondering how it got there or why it was there to begin with. Were the bluejackets mocking them? Fiver laughed a little at the thought. The handwriting was clearly Roman's, but the letters looked exceptionally strange, particularly in the word LOSE. Maybe that was the code.
The keypad had only numbers. It couldn't be the code, then. But the letters...they looked odd. Like they were upside-down, almost. Wait...
Fiver turned the memo upside-down. The word LOSE turned into a four-digit code.
3507
"Thanks, buddy," Fiver murmured as they dialed the code in. When the door unlocked, they opened it quietly and stepped inside. The halls were dimly lit and dead quiet. Now, to find Roman...
"You made it in all right, I see." Fiver jumped at the sound of another voice. A man in a blue jacket came around the corner, holding his hands up. "I haven't got a gun. Don't worry. I'm here to help you get that boy out."
"You must be Matthew." Fiver fought to catch their breath. "You scared the shit out of me."
"I was worried you wouldn't understand the hint about the code," he said. "Enough about that, though. Let's get Roman out of here."
Fiver glanced down at their pocket knife, suddenly fearful that they might end up using it. As they tiptoed down the strangely empty hallways, even the sound of their own breathing inside the mask became deafening. Eventually, they said something to break the oppressive silence. "Why are you helping me, anyway?"
"The fight changes all of us," said Matthew. "I always wanted to be like my big brother, which is why I'm here now. What about you?"
Fiver paused. It was very seldom that anyone asked about their past. "I was a marine veterinarian and part of an anti-poaching task force. I've been fighting for the ocean all my life. I'm not giving up because the ICA says it's a lost cause."
"How noble of you," Matthew sighed. "What I want here is justice. I think it starts with that boy. Remarkable kid, I've learned, and entirely innocent. Why did you have him with you, anyway?"
They rounded a corner, finding themselves in a slightly brighter hallway with one light that flickered randomly, as if it had a mind of its own. "Pardon?" Fiver asked.
"I wouldn't think a disabled child would be of much use to you," Matthew clarified. "Not to be ableist, of course, but..."
"You're totally being ableist." Fiver shot him a sideways glare through the mask. "Yes, we do tend to give him simpler tasks, but as someone once told me, an orchestra where everyone's a conductor would make for an excruciatingly dull concert. The fact that he won't ever be getting a PhD in astrophysics or whatnot doesn't make him any less valuable in my mind."
"Not in mine, either. Not in this case. He did something for me that I'll always be grateful for."
"And what's that?" Fiver asked.
"He brought you here." Matthew reached into his pocket and pulled out an old name badge. Fiver read the name – J. PITT – and wondered why it looked so familiar. After a moment, it sank in. "You killed my brother, Ice Five."
Their eyes widened. How...?
Before they could say anything, Matthew punched them in the gut, so hard it knocked the wind out of them. Fiver recoiled and gasped in pain. A sickening warmth spread from the impact. They looked down and immediately fell back against the wall. A dark stain seeped through a hole in their black jacket. Blood. The knife glinted in Matthew's hand before he sheathed it.
"Now pay attention," Matthew growled. "You'll likely have enough time to get the kid out of here, but no more. Come after me, and you're wasting time. The boy is in that cell right at the end." He tossed a key at Fiver, who barely managed to catch it. "Understand?"
Panic surged through their head. It wasn't as if they hadn't seen this coming from a mile away...had they not? All those doors left wide open. Not knowing what else to do, they nodded. Matthew ran off like the coward he was, leaving Fiver alone.
Somehow, they found the strength to run to the cell at the end, jam the key in the lock, and open the first door. "Roman, it's me," they gasped. "It's Ice Five. Come on."
Roman rolled out of his cot and blinked a few times, clearly confused out of his mind. He seemed not to know whether he was dreaming or awake. "Is it really...?"
Fiver grabbed the boy's arm. "Let's go!"
They sprinted out of the cell. With every stride Fiver took, they felt themselves getting weaker. There was no pain, though. A very bad sign, Fiver knew. Shock was far too often fatal.
Their vision blurred a little. "Where's the door?"
"I think it's this way." Roman tugged Fiver in the opposite direction. "Wait, Fiver, are you...?"
"I...I'm fine..." they stammered.
"You're bleeding!" the boy screamed. "What happened?"
"He...stabbed me..."
"Who?" Roman grabbed Fiver to keep them from falling backwards. "Who?"
Their head swam with delirium. They grew dimly aware of the pain again, but everything else was muted. Roman's voice pierced the gloom, but they couldn't make out what he was saying. They had to lie down...only for a little while...rest...
Clarity returned for a moment when Roman smacked them. "Stay with me!"
Somehow, they found the door and burst outside. Fiver's knees slammed on concrete. All they registered was pain and a sharp ringing in their ears. A shadow fell over them, blotting out the glow of the streetlamps. Gentle hands found their shoulders. The boy cried somewhere in the distance. From his father's voice, two words were loud and clear. "Thank you."
Then, everything faded to black. Everything but the loud, insistent pounding of their heart.