Engine Failure

By Hannah Muldery

The sun had risen, but the sea hadn’t noticed. I slid off my hydro-scooter into the kelp-filled ocean. “Yikes,” I bit out, every movement driving fresh stabs of ice across my limbs.

A dozen feet away, a round head bobbed above the surface. “Miki?” My sister’s sea otter swam closer. “I don’t need you to distract me.” She twirled in the water, her deep brown eyes pleading. “I get into enough trouble without your antics.” I shooed her away. She dove under the water, probably annoyed at me.

“The kelp elevator’s down, is it? Let’s make Trent survey it,” I mumbled, mimicking Aarold. Being the youngest underwater welding apprentice at the factory made me the go-to boy for examining mechanical malfunctions across our floating town.

Beyond my hydro-scooter, the town poked above the waterline, a long cluster of tiny squares with the lighthouse towering above them. Several yards away, a large white buoy slowly drifted closer to town—the cause of my freezing assignment. “You won’t be free for long.” I glared at it, but got no response. Air-filled plastic was thoughtless that way.

One loose buoy, one missing elevator engine necessary for lowering and raising the artificial kelp forest, and perhaps raiders to blame for it.

Checking that the whalebone dagger was securely strapped to my bare leg, I slipped on my diving mask and grabbed the bundle of kelp tubing from the hydro-scooter. I stuck one end through my goggles’ strap and bit down on the open end. The rest of the hose tumbled into the water, several inches poking free above the surface with six kelp bulbs as mini buoys.

I dove beneath the surface.

Sunbeams filtered through, their steep angles adding another wow factor to the bustling sea life surrounding me. A school of silvery fish parted around my body, fins tickling my skin as they passed. A dark shape vanished behind a particularly large column of seaweed.

A raider? What if stealing the engine was a trap for unsuspecting townsfolk? Excitement pulsed through me. I gripped my bone blade and paddled closer.

The shape darted out. It wasn’t a raider; it was Miki. Again. I shook my head at her, but she rubbed up against me before dashing away.

Out of the corner of my eye, a frayed bit of rope floated from behind a kelp stalk. Beyond it, Miki sniffed the hefty engine resting on the forest floor. Either a mischievous sea otter had chewed the engine free of the buoy, or I’d discovered the handiwork of the clumsiest raiders ever.

I had two choices.

I could report the issue to my boss and someone higher up would be assigned to retrieve the engine. Likely Aarold. I rolled my eyes.

Or prove my worth…

With a kick, I swam to the engine. The cable it used to control the kelp bed depth was still intact. If I brought the engine to my boss, he’d see I was more than a mischief-making apprentice.

Without another thought, I wrapped my arms around the engine’s box casing and heaved it off the kelp bed frame, swimming toward the dark underside of my hydro-scooter. Miki kept pace with me, even as my climb slowed. The engine weighed more than I’d anticipated. A bit of kelp brushed against my leg, and I kicked at it.

The engine jerked to life, and I leaned back, hugging the box tight. Its cord swept across my chest, tugging at my leg as it began retracting.

The cord sped up, tangling about my legs, and I dove, attempting to break free. The engine, kelp bed, and I all tumbled, swirling together in a mad rush to the floor. I clamped my teeth hard around the kelp lifeline. My back hit the seaweed frame, and everything stopped.

Unable to move, I sucked in quick, shallow breaths. The still line bound my chest and upper arms together, and the heavy engine pinned me to the forest floor. I felt for my bone dagger, but my fingers couldn’t reach it. When I wriggled, a trickle of sea water dripped into my mouth. Forcing myself to lay still, I focused on controlling my breathing.

Stupid. I should have reported this. I knew better than to lift items, especially potentially malfunctioning ones, to the surface alone. If the leak in my breathing tube grew—

A shadow flashed over me. A raider? At least they wanted their victims alive.

It was Miki. She nosed the engine, small snuffs tickling my side along its edge. Shock surged through my body, imagining her pushing the engine further onto my breathing tube. I didn’t need her mischief right now. I waved my fingers toward the surface. With a pointed look at me, she dashed off.

Everything was… darker. Rumbling reached me. Go away. Sleepy… Shadows appeared, hazy. Distant. Curious, I waved, tapping the thing on my chest. Like a drum. I almost giggled.

No more rumbling. My eyelids closed.

Whiskers scraped my face. I sucked in a breath, constricted by the weight I’d almost forgotten.

I was stuck. Panic shot through me and the world tipped sideways, spinning. Miki clung to me. Figures arrived, one bringing a new breathing tube. I’d never been happier to see Aarold.

The sodden towel wrapped around me dripped on the scuffed office floor as I received the scolding of my life. I’d been suspended from diving for two weeks. Shivering, I shuffled outside to sun dry on the edge of the dock.

At least I was alive.

Miki vaulted out of the ocean, landing next to me.

I scratched her head. “Thanks, Miki. If you hadn’t gone for help…” I cleared my throat. “Then who would slip you table scraps?”

The otter snorted and dove back into the ocean.

That was either “You’re welcome” or “I expect salmon for supper.”

Would she be satisfied with the salmon tail, or was she expecting a whole fillet? I grinned. Miki deserved a fillet.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hannah Muldery has always loved escaping into stories. Her favorite book is a toss up between Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island or Kidnapped. She spends her time as a freelance artist painting geeky artwork and working on an adventure novel who’s main character struggles with anxiety. When not creating, Hannah can be found watching Star Wars with her hubby and two cats.

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