‘Oh, about a month now,’ John calls back. ‘Bertie and I do a spot of night fishing.’
‘Fuck’s sake,’ Safa snaps.
‘It’s fine,’ Ben mutters.
‘He fed Bertie million-year-old fishes.’
‘It’s not a million years – more like tens of thousands, and they’re not old if they’re caught fresh and they’re both still alive.’
‘Whatever.’
The pressure grows. Palpable and real. They filter out into the bunker to walk down the now-painted corridor.
Emily goes into the main room first. Early evening. The light coming through the window is fading. She walks round flicking switches on lamps to bathe the room in soft, warm light.
Harry brushes past her to set the water to heat. Ben walks behind him, moving round his solid bulk to grab an apple from the bowl. Miri takes an apple and turns to lean against the table while eating. Safa sits on the armrest of the big sofa that Emily flops on with an audible groan. Nobody speaks. The atmosphere feels thick and charged. The day has been long and gruelling. The days before that were longer and more gruelling. Weeks of it. Unrelenting. They all feel it. Like a thing building. Like a force growing stronger.
Emily stretches out. She loves this sofa. This is her sofa. This is bliss. She wouldn’t change being here for all the money in the world, but it’s still hard. Very hard. She idly watches Harry making drinks. Of all of them, he is the calmest. This is not new to Harry. The rest mask the restless energy with usual behaviours, but Harry is the same as always. Calm and controlled.
The doctor comes through. Ria gets the mugs ready. Harry pours. The air fills with the sound of the water going into the mugs and the chink of the spoon as Ria stirs. She hands one to Ben, then moves out to pass Safa’s and Emily’s over. Harry passes Miri’s before taking crackers from a tub and loading a plate with sliced cheese. He crosses to the sofa. The one that Emily thinks is hers, but is really his. She pulls her legs up. He sits down. She watches him load a cracker with cheese. He lifts it to eat. She leans forward. He holds it out. She takes a bite. He eats the rest. No need for words. No need to speak. She leans against him. Ria watches them discreetly. Trying to detect if they are flirting, but it doesn’t feel like it. Mind you, Ben couldn’t sit down and rest against Harry, so maybe there is a degree of flirting, but mild, like passive and non-sexual, which makes it just friendship.
Emily likes being near Harry. Alpha was an enigma. A demi-god. The best of all of them. Frighteningly capable and brutally efficient, but Harry lifted Alpha off his feet with one arm and ragged him like a doll. She rubs her forehead on his shoulder. He loads a cracker and offers it. She takes a bite. He eats the rest. Friendship.
Safa sips her coffee. Ben drinks his. Miri eats her apple. The doctor sits down heavily in an armchair in the thick, charged air. Tension grows. Pressure builds.
Ria feels the urge to speak out and say something. Just say it. Announce it and be done. She forms the words to say. Running through it in her mind as her heart beats faster and nerves fill her stomach that tightens with a sense of dread. She wants her mum. She really wants her mum right now.
‘We’re ready,’ Safa says suddenly, breaking the silence.
Ben freezes with his mug to his lips. Harry pauses, loading a cracker. Emily looks over. Miri holds the apple close to her mouth. The doctor purses his lips and nods slowly.
Ria’s heart thunders. Say something. Say it now before it’s too late.
‘Beardy,’ Safa says, looking at Harry, who is now back to loading his cracker. ‘You’ve done the most missions. When’s the best time to go? Now while we’re in the zone, or . . .’
‘No,’ he says, working on the cracker. ‘Rest tonight. Go in the morning.’
Safa sips her coffee. Ben drinks his. Harry holds the cracker for Emily to bite.
Ria stares at the floor. It feels like her vision is closing in, that the room has become too small, too confined.
‘Tomorrow then,’ Safa says, glancing at Miri.
‘Agreed,’ Miri says before biting into the apple.
It’s done. They’re going to do it tomorrow. Ria wants to scream and shout and beg them not to do it. She stares at the floor and doesn’t say anything.
Emily groans, long and audible. Ben looks over at her, seeing the smile slowly spreading across her face. ‘Thank god,’ she mutters.
‘Aye.’
‘Definitely,’ Ben says as the tension in the room slides away. A lifting of worry. An easing of pressure. Finally, they are ready. Finally.
Each feels the finality of the decision and the relief it brings. Apart from Ria. She forces a smile and makes her legs move to carry her across the room towards the door.
‘You okay?’ Ben asks her.
‘Fine,’ she says lightly, nodding quickly. ‘I’ll get the chicken on.’
‘That,’ Safa states, ‘is a bloody good idea. I am starving.’
Thirty-Seven
The night passes. They eat grilled chicken and fish on the island with Bertie and Doctor Watson. They drink water and juice. They talk lightly, but the energy is there. The feeling of something coming. The build-up. Pre-mission tension. Ria sits with them. Her right hand holding the fork. Her left unknowingly on her belly. Doctor Watson notices it. Miri too. Nothing is said. This is not the time. A look between them. A nod. Ben sees that look and casually glances down to see Ria talking to Emily with her left hand on her stomach. He pauses, thinking, connecting and looks back at Miri. His eyebrows lift. She purses her lips and goes back to eating. The secret is out.
‘What time is kick-off?’ the doctor asks.
‘Early,’ Safa says. ‘We’ll warm up and go for it.’
‘I see,’ he says. ‘I shall make ready to receive casualties.’
‘Stay out of the portal room,’ Safa adds. ‘Risk of rounds going through.’
‘Understood,’ the doctor says gravely, waggling his fork in the air.
‘Progress on the sound waves?’ Miri asks Bertie.
‘S’just binary, but yes, but haha! I don’t know.’
A murmur of chuckles at Bertie’s reply. Getting a straight answer out of him is impossible.
‘Like, totally no reason they won’t go through. Matter is, like, totally matter. The whole world is full of sound. Like, epic and awesome and . . . The sun makes noise and everything makes noise, but, yeah, no, so . . .’
‘You’ll get there,’ Emily says.
‘We were shouting through it today,’ the doctor says with a smile at Bertie. ‘We spent the best part of two hours walking back and forth singing songs and trying to determine the exact second the noise ends . . . or begins . . . depending which side you are on.’
‘S’just binary.’
‘And making the displacement field see-through?’
‘Not started that yet,’ the doctor answers.
‘Would be good to see what’s on the other side before we go through,’ Miri says, forking a chunk of grilled chicken.
‘Oh my god!’ Bertie blurts, then bursts out laughing.