“Shh, it’s okay, Tommy. We’ll be out soon, I promise.”

More Korean, this time directed at her. Then, a slap, a noise that filled Lucya with rage, spurring her into action.

She pulled her hands back, away from the grille, and retrieved the tiny plastic container of virus that was connected to a band wound around her throat — the only part of her body that was almost guaranteed not to touch the sides of the pipe during her expedition.

Vardy’s words echoed in her mind. Take a minute before you release the virus. But she didn’t have a minute to spare. It had taken far longer than anticipated to reach the room. A minute spent waiting was a minute less for the virus to get to work. Still trembling with anger, she unscrewed the cap on the container, and reached forwards again with both hands.

The container was a miniature atomiser, the kind used for dispensing air freshener, or perfume. With it lined up against the openings in the pipe, Lucya took a deep breath, and squeezed. She pumped four times, emptying the contents completely. In the narrow shafts of light that entered the grille like rays of sun, she could see the liquid turn to mist. The blown air from the ventilation plant did its job, carrying most of the fine spray out into the classroom. Some of it escaped further up the pipe, to be lost in the dead end. She knew that some might even be sucked back towards her as the airflow bounced and returned. It was a risk she had to take.

Lucya counted forty-five seconds before she had to take a breath. Not bad, she thought, but not great, either. One breath wasn’t enough though. The pent-up anger still held her in its grip, and she found herself panting, short, shallow breaths. A thin wisp of moisture blew back into her face. Instinctively she shut her mouth and her eyes, but her shortness of breath meant she couldn’t help but draw in air through her nose, minute droplets of liquid entering her nostrils along with the precious oxygen she so desired.

It happened before she could even think about it. A body’s natural reaction, an automatic reflex designed to expel the foreign invader. Her eyelids pulled themselves shut, and she sneezed.

Twenty-Nine

“WHAT’S THAT?” JAKE was on his feet, circling an area of the screen with his index finger. “It moved, right? It’s not my imagination. That moved!”

Bodil twisted a knob and the image on one of the monitors zoomed in on the spot Jake had highlighted. There was a frustrating wait while the sonar sent out its next pulse of energy and the screen updated.

Bodil shook her head. “It’s a shoal of fish. Big one, too.”

“But it looks like one object. You said this sonar could detect individual fish. Why aren’t we seeing them as dots or something?”

“At this resolution they appear as a single mass. We are looking for large objects. We can cover more ground at this lower resolution.”

Jake walked back to his chair. He looked at his watch again. Twenty-two minutes. He thought about Lucya, wondered if she had delivered the fatal dose. Wondered if the men were succumbing to the effects. Wondered if Erica was okay.

“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he said, staring at a blank wall. “I shouldn’t be here. I should be back there, ready to negotiate more time.”

Bodil said nothing, remaining fixated on her monitors.

“This was a ridiculous idea. We’ll never find them in time. What was I thinking? Erica was in danger, now Lucya too. And if we can’t get that antidote, anyone who tries to help them is in danger.”

“We’re all in danger from the submarine, Jake.” Bodil didn’t look up. She tapped at keys, scribbled notes on paper, but her eyes never left the all-important screens. “You have others on the ship. Others who will take care of your loved ones, no?”

“Yes, but—”

“If we cannot find the submarine, their efforts might be for nothing.” She leaned forward, examining her monitor closely.

Jake felt something had changed. He turned to watch her. “What is it? You see something?” He took three steps back to her and squinted at the image. It still made little sense to him.

“More fish,” Bodil said calmly. “Sorry.”

Jake studied where she was looking. A darker patch among the circle of colour.

“Bodil, how big is that shoal? What scale are we looking at here?”

“It’s a small one, a few metres across, four or five. I could measure more precisely, but I’d have to stop watching the main screen.”

Jake rubbed his cheek with his right hand, and lifted his head to the ceiling, deep in thought. “Why would you think a shoal of fish four metres across was a hundred-metre-long, seven-thousand-odd-tonne submarine?”

“Because those subs are stealthy. We talked about this. They reduce their sonar signature. Even active sonar will have trouble seeing them. If we pick them up, they won’t look like a submarine, they’ll look like a much smaller object.”

Jake was nodding. “That’s what I thought. Yes…that’s what I thought.” He turned to the two sailors who were still with them in the room, sitting looking somewhat bored. “You, stay here and help Bodil with the lookout. You, go to the bridge and relieve Daniel. Send him out on deck to help me, and tell him to bring the radios. I’ve got an idea.”

• • •

Lucya froze. Her hands were still by the grille opening onto the classroom. If anyone looked towards it, they would surely see her.

The room beyond had become silent but for one man — the leader, she presumed — who was shouting orders. The children were afraid. A few began to wail and sob.

“What is trick?” The words cut through the air like a clap of thunder. “You try trick? We kill child!”

Another scream. Impossible to tell this time if it was Erica.

Then, Erica’s voice. Remarkably calm under the intense pressure. “It was me! I sneezed. It was me!” As if to prove the point, she sneezed, and then a third time. “I’m sorry, I had an itch. I didn’t mean to!”

“You go there. Corner. No help others.”

“Yes, sir. I will go to the corner.”

More words, this time in Korean. The men could be heard moving around. Were they checking the room, making sure nobody had somehow got in? Lucya wondered. She could hear the chairs and tables that hadn’t been used in the door barricade being moved, pulled back. Every corner of the room was being examined. Holding her breath, she pulled her hands back from the grille, and just in time. The light entering the shaft was momentarily blocked. Someone was in front of the grille. It rattled as the man on the other side verified that nobody could have come through it. He called to his leader, the voice so close, just inches away from her. Then he moved on, the light returned, and Lucya breathed out, very quietly.

• • •

The wind whipped around Jake’s face when he stepped outside. He could see the two sailors standing by the sonar winch equipment, idle, and called to them. “You men! Fetch one of those life-raft capsules and bring it to the bow section. Quick as you can!”

Without waiting for a reply he was off, jogging along the deck towards the front of the Lance. Daniel came out and caught up with him.

“Got those portable radios you asked for,” he said. “I thought we only brought them with us for emergency use. Have we found the sub?”

“Not yet. Daniel, see that harpoon gun?” He pointed towards a structure near the bow. A swivelling frame atop which sat what could almost have passed for a telescope, were it not for the pointed and lethal-looking arrowhead that protruded from the sea-facing end. Daniel nodded. “Ever used one?”

“No, Cap… No, Jake.”

“Then we’ll have to learn together. Don’t look so worried. Accuracy won’t be important.”