"Who are you?" Mr Li asked.

  "He's one of mine," I advised.

  "You didn't warn us," Li accused.

  "I didn't know he was here." My eyes, which I was sure were quite cool when they left Li's, turned to Tan. "How did you get on-board?"

  "Stole a Wánměi maritime safety vessel from the Port Authority."

  "We have maritime safety vessels?"

  "Apparently."

  "So we can use it to get off."

  Tan stood up to his full height, dismissing Mr Li as a threat in the one nonchalant movement. Then shook his head.

  "I couldn't lash it to the ship," he admitted. "Would have been a good idea, but there was just no way to do it and get on-board in this swell."

  I pictured Tan jumping from a smaller boat onto the side of the container ship with little more than his gloved hands and a pickaxe. It seemed about right.

  I nodded.

  "One guard down," I advised, starting to turn towards the containers we hadn't yet opened. "Possibly the only one on-board, I've seen no evidence of others. Two containers open and my laser gun's about to die."

  I heard Tan's soft footfalls behind me as well as another set not long afterwards. I assumed it was Mr Li's, but lacked the energy right then to check. With Tan at my back, some of my defences were lowering. As though the moment I spotted him, I could relinquish some of the responsibility and begin to feel.

  Unfortunately, with what I was feeling, that was a dangerous move. Fatigue was setting in.

  "Six to go," Tan commented once we'd made it before the doors.

  "I might be able to do one more. How's your laser gun?"

  "In excellent order. Maybe three, or four at a push."

  "That still leaves one or two unopened. We need to find an alternate way to do it."

  Tan stepped forward and eyed the control panel on one of the still locked doors. He pressed his finger against the touch screen like I had, receiving the "Waiting" message as well. He dropped his hand and stared at it for a moment.

  "It could be a key-code," he offered.

  "Most obvious choice," I added.

  "Or a swipe card." I hadn't thought of that.

  "The guard had a swipe card in his wallet."

  Tan turned to look at me. "Worth a try. Want me to keep on here and you go get it?"

  The thought of returning to the dead guard was not welcome, but only I knew where he was. To save time, it made sense. I nodded, and Tan stepped away from the container and came to stand in front of me, blocking my face from Mr Li and the still cowering people on the deck.

  "Your gun still loaded?" he asked, voice low. I nodded. "How far away is he?"

  "Toward the bridge, but still on this deck."

  "Can you make it?"

  I straightened, lifting my chin at the same time. "Of course." Elite tones dripping icicles.

  His lips twitched. "The longer this takes, the further we have to get back," he pointed out. "And when we do get back, expect a welcoming party."

  "Did you hear from Si?"

  His head shook. "Lost contact not long after leaving port. No repeaters out on the water."

  "I'll make it quick," I offered, and moved past him coming abreast of Mr Li.

  His eyes met mine, held my gaze for a long moment, and then he nodded. I wasn't sure if he was giving me permission to leave or accepting my decision to have Tan take over frying the door locks. I had the feeling I wasn't in Mr Li's good books yet, and Tan definitely was not.

  I moved as quickly as my injuries allowed, keeping my ears peeled and my laser gun raised. It was a far more effective weapon than a conventional pistol, even when it was low on juice, like right now.

  The corridors between the containers seemed darker than before as I made my way from memory alone through them. It also seemed a lot further away than when I'd traversed them earlier. I had an uncomfortable and totally unfounded feeling that the layout had changed and the ship had stretched somehow.

  And then, when I turned a corner expecting to find the guard's body and only finding empty deck, I really started to believe the boat had mystically altered. But the next corner revealed my quarry, exactly as I'd left him; I'd only misjudged how many containers I had to round to get there.

  I looked down at the pool of now congealed blood, the bluish/white cast to his face, the dead, sightless eyes, and swallowed thickly. I'd taken out drones before, several, but never a man. I'd seen men cut down in our battles. I'd even watched the life leave General Chew-wen's eyes, but not ultimately by my hand.

  This, though. This was all on me. And even knowing it had been either my life or his at the time didn't make accepting the outcome any easier.

  I crouched down and forced myself to take in the form before me. To acknowledge that this was once a man. But all I could picture was the evil intent on his face and the raised wrench above his head ready to come down.

  I huffed out a breath and picked up his wallet and cards, taking the entire thing and heading back to the bow of the ship without a backwards glance. I was born Elite. I was raised Elite.

  I was no longer Elite.

  And it surprised me at how little regret I had at that thought.

  Another two containers had been opened by the time I made it back to Tan and Mr Li. At least twenty more people freed, but none of them Xiu Ying or little Juan. The girls' father was beside himself now. Unable to direct the refugees, just standing behind Tan's shoulder wringing his hands.

  Tan flicked a glance towards him and then saw me. He stepped back, giving me space to approach the next container. Not even suggesting that he do it, but allowing me the honour. He turned his attention to the people cowering to one side and directed them around the back to wait with the rest of the released.

  The deck cleared, but still Mr Li stood sentinel, worry and heartache and bitter fear clear on his exhausted features.

  "Here we go," I whispered to no one in particular, and tapped the touch screen on the control panel.

  The "Waiting" message came up and I laid the keycard from the guard's wallet across the screen itself. Holding my breath, praying this would work, already trying to calculate how many more doors we could get open with just two dying laser guns.

  The screen flashed beneath the card, first red - never a good sign - and then thankfully green. When I pulled the card back, my hand shaking more than I'd like to admit, I had a view of the inside of the container.

  Clearly the occupants knew something was amiss; perhaps having heard the laser gun whines as we'd fried the previous four doors. They huddled at the back of the container, the whites of their eyes over-large in the vid-screen. No one was near the doors, prepared to attack as soon as they opened or simply unaware that they were. None of them were armed. Nor could I identify the Li daughters.

  I scanned the available instructions on the vid-screen and found the unlock icon. The door clicked rather anticlimactically, and then Mr Li was surging forward and hauling them open.

  People spilled out, Mr Li calling for his daughters, children crying, mothers sobbing, fathers protecting them with their bodies until it was obvious we were the good guys.

  Tan directed them all around the rear of the container, and by the time he came back, I'd opened the next door as well.

  Still no Xiu Ying or Juan.

  "You good here?" Tan shouted above the relieved cries of the recently freed.

  I nodded, moving on to the next door, afraid to have hope the girls were here at all.

  "I'm going to go check the bridge," he advised. "See if there's a way to pilot this thing."

  "Good idea."

  "If not, we'll be swimming," he added, over his shoulder, making me glance to the side of the ship and see... nothing. Just blackness, so deep and consuming I knew swimming was out of the question.

  "The next door," Mr Li urged, and I refocused.

  The procedure of swiping and unlocking the containers became much quicker then. In no time at all we had another group of people out on the deck; shivering, trembling, and lighting up when they recognised me.

  But their relief and heartfelt thanks felt hollow. Despite the fact that we'd freed over sixty people so far. Without the Li girls this would be my greatest failure.

  I'm not sure how I managed to keep breathing as I went through the motions of releasing that final door. Mr Li didn't even pretend to give me space, just kept his hand on the door latch, waiting for the green light and soft click. The instant the control panel obliged, the door was open and he rushed inside.

  I stood still. Unable to move. Unable to check. Unable to face that sort of defeat.

  These people weren't family. I hardly even knew Xiu Ying and Juan, having only spent one evening with them, and most of that I was out cold from a drone's drugged laser beam. But they represented more to me than just my fellow compatriots. They represented what it was I was doing here. Fighting for. Battling to give freedom to.

  Li Xiu Ying and Li Juan represented everything.

  People began emerging into the open air, staring up at the stars, swiping the sea spray from their awed faces, staggering to keep their balance as smiles replaced haunted looks of fear.

  Finally, no more came out of the container; the deck outside full, but I lacked the ability to direct the refugees around the corner.

  I turned from my numbed position, swallowed past a dry throat, and then set my back straight, my shoulders rigid, my chin up.

  I may no longer have been an Elite, but I sure as hell still knew how to behave like one.

  I stepped into the container and almost collided with a teen aged man.

  "Zebra," he breathed, reaching out already defined and strong arms instinctively to steady me. "She said you'd come."

  I stared up into a young, handsome, Wáikěinese face and felt utterly undone. Well aware that luck had been in my favour tonight. Coincidence the presiding factor that had led me to this miraculous moment. And nothing else.

  It took two efforts to talk. But they were the sweetest words I'd ever spoken.

  "Hello, Zhang Jun. I'm very glad to have found you."

  Chapter 6

  Drawn To The Moment As Much As I Seemed To Be Drawn To The Woman Herself

  Trent

  "How do you think she'll get back?" Si asked the strained silence.

  I stared at the dark image on the Geh Dowee street-cam, taking note of the lack of maritime safety lighting out in the channel. The complete absence of anything discernible in the black maw that was the sea.

  "I don't know," I answered, and kept staring at the uninformative vid-screen.

  "Alan's in position," Si offered a few seconds later, determined to keep me engaged and not off inside my head battling frustrated, angry thoughts.

  I'd been a little trying lately, I knew. But what did they expect? Confined to a bed for two fucking weeks, unable to stake my claim on the rebel base and army Tan had supplied.

  Unable to stake my claim on Lena.

  A disgruntled breath escaped me.

  But we'd made progress, she and I. We'd talked. She'd made sure I rested. When we were alone, I'd sometimes catch her staring at me; a look of secret longing on her face that stole all intelligent thought.

  But as much as I was sure she wanted me, my injuries and confinement to bed, mixed with her need to escape the claustrophobic bunker Tan had commandeered at the Domain park, meant we'd been unable to act on our desires.

  It was trying, therefore I was trying.

  I let out another frustrated breath of air.

  "Anything?"

  Si shook his head. "All quiet on the point and Alan has instructed two of Tan's men to keep lookout further back on Riddell Road. If any Cardinals or drones appear, they'll spot them."

  "At least it's not a complete dead end, there's multiple roads to the point."

  Si nodded. "Of course, she may not land there."

  I looked at a map of our island Si had up on another vid-screen and contemplated where else Lena could come ashore. There were too many unanswered questions. Was she swimming? Had Tan reached her? Was she still alive?

  "God this sucks," I said with feeling. Waiting had never been one of my strong suits.

  Si didn't say anything for several minutes, then, "Has there been an update on Harjeet?"

  I shook my head, leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, relishing the slight stretch of my stitches. They'd started itching, sometimes controlled movement dulled the need to scratch.

  "He's not been back to Little D'awa and none of Alan's contacts have mentioned seeing him on the streets."

  "What do you think he's doing?"

  "Laying low while the Overseers regroup. It's not the last we've heard of Harjeet Kandiyar."

  "What about what Lena suspects?"

  "The file he accessed in exchange for her?"

  "Yeah. She reckons it's to do with the drones."

  "Have the drones changed any further?"

  "No, but they are on that container ship heading to God knows where," Si argued.

  "But have they been on similar container ships since Wánměi started manufacturing them way back when?"

  Si sighed loudly. "I guess that's the question."

  "Yeah."

  Silence, while we both stared at the dark vid-screen.

  "Have you made any progress with her Shiloh unit?" I asked, after a few stretched minutes.

  "If there's a way to hack it, I can't see it," he admitted. "Truly a work of art."

  I didn't reply. Everything to do with Lena was a work of art.

  I was about to mention the vid-screen Lena had stolen from Overseer Markham's suite at The Quay Resort, when Si said, "Hold on." He leaned forward in his seat to narrowly stare at the vid-screen. "I think I see something."

  I was up and moving toward the screen before I registered the slight tug on my side at the abrupt movement. I grimaced, but didn't otherwise show any discomfort. The screen still looked black to me. But the longer I stared at it, the more certain I was that I could discern lighter shades to the darkness.

  Then out of the abyss came bobbing lights, which morphed into a looming hulk of a vessel, which eventually became the container ship heading full steam toward the shore.

  "Warn Alan," I said, shock and awe registering at what I was seeing.

  "He's already seen it and moving back a safe distance."

  "Why isn't it slowing down?"

  "Jesus," Si whispered. "It's going to hit fucking hard."

  The ship was quite clear now, the lights in Geh Dowee reflecting off the dull paint in the distance, outlining the rows and rows of rusted containers on its deck. The visual assisted by the lights up in the bridge and running down the centre of the foredeck. A distinct wake of water could also be seen spewing out from the bow, giving the impression the vessel was motoring.

  "Slow down," I willed it, my voice barely above a whisper. Please, slow down.

  "Oh shit," Si said. "She's not going for the point."

  "It fucking looks like the point!"

  Si shook his head emphatically. "She's going for the reserve land next to the old oil refinery."

  "She's trying to avoid any possibly inhabited areas."

  "Which means she intends to come in at full speed."

  My stomach fell to my ankles, thick churning acid in my gut. The impact would be horrific. Even avoiding solid structures and hard packed roads. A vessel of that size, at that speed...

  I watched, unable to blink, wanting desperately not to witness this impending disaster, but knowing it was impossible to look away. Drawn to the moment as much as I seemed to be drawn to the woman herself.

  And then the ship hit dry land.

  Chapter 7

  I Didn’t Think

  Lena

  The sound of metal screeching, and engines roaring, futilely rent the night air. A high pitched whine accompanied the screams of those lashed to the deck for safety as the ship ploughed into an outcrop of land on the South-West coast of Wánměi.

  It could have been worse, I thought, as my body was shunted forward against the bridge controls and then ripped sideways as the ship began to come apart at the seams; the noise of the hull disintegrating rang out in my bones as much as it did inside my ears.

  Long moments of chaotic sounds and body shattering movements followed. I thought perhaps it would go on forever. But as warning lights blinked and alarms sounded throughout the ship, the last of the engines died away. Finally responding to some unseen safety valve shut-off. And all that was left was the ominous creaking of the boat as it settled.

  As more normal noises filtered back to my ears I started to distinguish the sounds of crying and sobbing and shouts for loved ones out on the the deck. I pushed up from my half fallen position against the bridge console, trying to release the straps Tan had used to tie me in place once we realised we could only control direction not speed of the vessel.

  My head spun, my vision kept winking like a broken movie vid-screen, my mouth felt dry, my tongue thick. I blinked, tried to release the buckle on the strap again, and finally managed. Only to make myself fall several feet to the bridge floor and then skid unceremoniously over it towards the port side of the ship.

  "Oomph!" I managed as I hit my good side into the bulkhead. Great. Now I balanced. Both shins bruised. Both elbows aching.

  "We have to get moving," Tan said from over my shoulder, but his speech was alarmingly slurred.

  I tipped my head back and took in his position. Still lashed to the steering wheel, but blood dripped from his long nose. Swelling already starting to form.

  "Can you undo yourself?" I asked, as I moved, much slower than I'd intended, into a crouch.

  Tan grunted and released his buckle, sliding down the bridge to where I'd just landed. Somehow he still managed to make it look perfectly natural.

  He rested in the one position for three or four seconds, and then he rolled to his feet as though nothing was wrong with him. His blue eyes stared down at me, no sign of pain in their strangely shaded depths.