At one point, a sunfish cruises by that’s bigger than either of us. It’s a wonderfully weird-looking thing, like somebody fused a shark, a cauliflower, and a chunk of iron pyrite and flattened it until it’s almost two-dimensional. Socrates ignores our visitor, since it’s neither dangerous nor edible. I wave and invite the sunfish to dance with us. It glides on by. I remember a humor column by Dave Barry that my dad read to me when I was little, about how fish only have two thoughts, Food? and Yikes! But there is a third fish thought, which this sunfish’s expression relays perfectly: Y’all humans are weird.

I wish I could stay underwater with Socrates forever, dancing in the silver swirls of bubbles with sunlight rippling through the green.

I guess I lose track of time.

I hear the sharp clink, clink, clink of a metal object being tapped against the hull. Someone is telling me to surface.

I give Socrates a high five for good work. Then I start my ascent.

Back on board, I feel much better. The sea always refreshes me. I secure my tank and rinse my gear as we get underway. The repaired engines hum smoothly. The weather has cleared, leaving us with smooth seas and a rich burgundy sunset. By the end of the day tomorrow, if we’re lucky, we should arrive at HP’s secret base. We might find help, safety, answers. And, who knows, maybe even a new supply of chocolate-chip cookies.

My good mood lasts until Gemini Twain pokes his head out of the bridge. “We need you.” His tone makes it clear there is more bad news.

I find Tia Romero hunched over the comm station, clutching headphones to her ears. She frowns when she sees me.

“We retrieved some audio from the school’s intranet,” she says. “You’d better sit down.”

I think I’m prepared for anything.

I’m wrong.

When Dev’s voice comes through the headphones, I choke back a sob.

“—major threat. Need everyone to EVACUATE. I—”

The recording breaks into static.

I pull off the headphones and throw them down. I back away from them as if they’re a tarantula.

“I’m so sorry,” Tia says. “There’s nothing else. Just feedback.”

My legs shake. I’m wearing only my bikini. Salt water runs down my legs, dripping on the rubberized floor around my feet. I’m not sure if I’m shivering more from cold or from shock.

“Dev warned them,” I murmur. “They might have gotten out. He might still be alive?”

Lee-Ann Best is the navigator on duty. Her ears turn red, a “tell” that she is about to lie. Lee-Ann knows this about herself. Given her interest in counterespionage, you’d think she would grow her hair long to hide her lie-detector ears. Instead, she keeps her black locks shaved on the sides.

“Maybe,” she says. “I mean, it’s possible, right?”

Gem frowns. “I don’t think there was time. Ana, the noise at the end of the recording…”