Bewildered by what we witnessed, Ray and I jog back toward the Skipper mostly in silence. We only stop momentarily when I get the urge to throw up. Afterward, the words we do exchange are brief and to the point.

"You know we can't give them the ferries, Will. Especially not after what just happened. We can't let them get to Vanguard," he says in beat with the rhythm of his quickened steps.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand for the millionth time. "I know."

"We'll figure something out to get Ellen back. You have my word."

"I know that, too," I say.

I'm glad he leaves the conversation at that because too much has happened and my brain's still not ready to process all the options. Most importantly, I don't want to think about the cold-blooded murder of those two people. But no matter how much I try to distance myself from it, the more it nags at me.

Stopping the man who was about to break down the door was arguably justifiable, but I can't understand why it couldn't have been handled with non-lethal force. What Nelly did to the woman is another story. The revelation of her age to me right before she pulled the trigger is also puzzling. I guess if she wanted me to know how ruthless she could be despite her youth, then she definitely succeeded.

Maybe I'm taking things too personally since my mom also had cancer. But while the end result in both cases was the same, the way each woman died couldn't have been any more different. We were able to hold Mom's hand and comfort her in her last moments, but that poor woman . . ..

At least she wasn't conscious to see what happened to her husband.

When we finally arrive at the Skipper – still tethered in the narrow waterway where we'd left her this morning – we wash off as much mud from our boots as we can in the dark. I haven't even considered how to explain going missing for over twelve hours, but I know that being topside isn't the first thing on my list. As we settle in – Ray in the pilot's chair and me squeezed into the space behind him – and begin floating toward the ocean, I feel like this is a good time to discuss other alternatives.

"Of course I'll still take all the blame for hijacking your ride, but we need an excuse for being gone so long," I say. "I was thinking maybe mechanical trouble, navigational issues, perhaps even blacking out. Your choice."

"My choice is telling the Commander everything. This isn't something we can keep from him," he replies as if it's already a done deal.

I jump up from my seat on the floor and hit my head on the canopy in the process. Ignoring the pain, I yell in his ear. "With all due respect, Lieutenant Commander. But you've got to be fucking kidding me. You know that's the stupidest thing you could have just said."

"How do you figure that, Ensign Scott?" He turns around, his calm voice belying the anger on his face.

"I don't know yet." I rub my head. "I just think this is bigger than both of us, Ray, and I want the chance to think it over."

"You mean you want the chance to avoid punishment – for the second time, if I may add – while coming up with another half-assed plan that'll once again end in disaster. No way, man." He shakes his head. "Not this time. It's your sister's life on the line. Now sit back down and let's get back home."

"Don't you think I know what's at stake?" I ask as we finally submerge, but as Ray turns the radio on, our argument is forgotten as the whole situation suddenly changes.

At first, we have no idea what's going on because so many orders are being relayed back and forth. But while listening in for the next half hour, we begin to put the pieces together.

Evidently, there was some sort of incident earlier in the day that led to the evacuation of Tower Five. Most of the residents were put on the two ferries, which are still waiting on Vanguard's perimeter. The Skippers that were out at the time have also been held back from allowing to dock. There's a sense of chaos. It soon dawns on me that this may be the break we needed.

As we approach the station, we see more of the story unfolding. Dozens of Skippers are hovering at various depths around Vanguard. The two ferries – wide, flat people carriers with windows running down both sides – are resting on the seabed a bit further away. The section on the undersea base that's Tower Five is completely dark with the exception of occasional, bright sparks emanating a third of the way down from the top. Getting even closer, we agree that it looks like a team of divers are busy welding shut damage that was made to the structure from the outside.

"Was the base attacked?" I ponder the unimaginable, but just then, another voice comes across the radio.

Merman to the Vanguard, over.

Go ahead, Merman, the Commander answers over the airwaves.

Sir, we've finally managed to escort the target to a safe distance, over.

"Shit. There's your answer," Ray turns to me.

I want to ask him who he thinks could have managed to do this, but the Commander has more questions for Murray.

What's its status? Over.

The whale seems unharmed, sir. Over.

Ray turns the volume down on the radio and – for reasons I don't understand – laughs.

"What's so funny?" I ask with a frown.

"Don't you get it?" He glances at me over his shoulder. "I know you were thinking the same thing I was, Will. That maybe those damn topsiders were lying to us and they already got here to attack Vanguard. When it was just a whale!"

"Why would a whale do this?" I nod toward our underwater home. "I've never even seen them come less than a hundred feet of it."

He thinks about this for a minute before answering.

"My best guess? Earthquake."

I shrug. "But we didn't feel anything."

"It must have been while we were en route. It couldn't have been very big since there weren't any signs of it back on land. Still, I guess it was enough to spook the whale into ramming into Tower Five."

Vanguard to Stingray, over, we're interrupted once more and Ray answers the call. With no questions asked, he gets clearance to dock. The bay's empty, so by some miracle I end up back on Vanguard undetected. In the hallway, we run into my father.

"Where have you boys been?" he asks giving me a hug. But he doesn't wait for an answer. "Never mind. I'm glad to see you're safe. Have you seen Ellen anywhere? She left soon after you yesterday afternoon."

Although the question was clearly directed at Ray, I interject. "No, we haven't seen her."

I glance at my friend, but he's avoiding eye contact and I'm worried that he's about to reveal my lie. But the overhead intercom nearest to us suddenly springs to life. "Dr. Scott. You're needed in Engineering Unit Eleven immediately. I repeat, Dr. Scott to Engineering Eleven. Over."

My dad sighs and gives me another hug. "I have to run, but I'll talk to you soon. Get some rest, Will."

We watch him walk away, but Ray yells after him. "Hey, Dr. Scott! Do you know where the Commander is?"

He turns briefly. "Sure, I just saw him. He's been holed-up on the quarterdeck since last night." With that, he rounds the corner and disappears.

There are people passing us on both sides, but they're so preoccupied with their tasks that they don't pay attention to our presence. Ray tries to get swept up in the crowd going in the opposite direction, but I grab his arm just in time, preventing him from going any further. "You know you can't tell him."

"I thought this conversation was settled," he says as he pulls away. "But very well. Tell me why I can't go to my superior office with this critical piece of information."

"Because if you tell Commander Lamer that Ellen is being held hostage by survivors on the surface and they want our ferries in exchange for her release, then I'll tell everyone on board that we've been topside without experiencing any negative physical effects. And you know what that'll lead to, Stingray?" It's my turn to pause. "Mutiny, that's what. Because once people who've been down here for more than two decades realize there's a chance for them to get off Vanguard, they'll do everything they can to make it happen. They won't even care about mutant killer cats or murderous survivors or any other worse thing that we don't even know about. And it'll be all because you had to follow protocol every single time without trusting your best friend or learning to think for yourself."

I really hope that he buys my argument because it's the best one I have. But I'm confident that he at least knows that I'm serious because I can see the internal struggle going on in his head as his eyes dart back and forth, processing my threat.

"I don't believe that." He finally shakes his head. "I've never heard anyone complain about life down here."

Damn it. What now? I run my fingers through my hair, trying to think of anything else to convince him. "Remember when your mom had to explain to us what 'the grass is always greener on the other side' meant? Right now, people have been conditioned to forget that there's anything left besides Vanguard. But there is something else, and if I remind them of it, then there will be another side. Even if they don't believe me right away, eventually they'll start to consider whether it's greener and that seed of doubt will be enough! Am I right?"

Although he doesn't answer, Ray shakes his head, walks past me, and – more importantly – away from the route to the quarterdeck. I smile when I hear him muttering from the end of the hallway. "Fuck you, Will Scott."