Chapter 323: The Salad Knew About the Cooldown

The water in the cooling room reached my lower coils while Horass explained through the door that patience had won more battles than bravery, especially when the brave idiot was slowly running out of dry floor.

I didn’t need dry floor to breathe. I did need to stay clear of exposed electrical equipment and avoid being boxed into the only opening an A-rank mercenary could comfortably cover.

The difference mattered enough that I kept it to myself. Letting him believe the water bothered me more than it did was one of the few advantages left that hadn’t already become a countdown icon.

[System: He’s counting the time since your last can, mate. Doesn’t know the exact number yet, but he’s noticed you’re suddenly less keen to advertise the drinks menu.]

I had noticed his interest, and I planned to leave a very poor review of the observation skills if I survived the appointment.

I brightened my lure beside the high grate, letting the light move across the vapor as if I were climbing. Then I dimmed the rest of my body and slipped toward the lower duct beneath the waterline.

Horass didn’t fire blindly at the glow. He shifted to the door’s narrow inspection pane, checked the angle and told me the light was an excellent trick against people who forgot snakes possessed more than one end.

He had recognized the decoy. That didn’t mean it had achieved nothing, because looking up at the grate kept his eyes away from the low duct while I tested its removable screen with a tendril.

The screen came loose after I turned its latch. I kept it from falling, slipped through the opening and eased along a short maintenance run that smelled like wet dust and the ship’s oldest maintenance mistake.

Galaxy Brain held the route from the visible service labels in my mind. It didn’t give me a complete map of unseen rooms, so I stopped at the next junction and looked before choosing a direction.

A ladder shaft led upward. The lower passage ran toward the ballast service area, where a warning plate mentioned powered valves and restricted machinery access.

I chose the lower passage because my buoyancy control would help if the water deepened. It wouldn’t lift the ship, stop a moving piston or make electrical damage polite, but it let me keep my body level without wasting movement fighting the current.

Above me, Horass opened the cooling-room door and found the discarded screen. He followed quickly enough that the advantage became a short head start instead of the clean escape I would have preferred.

My phone picked up Bridget through a patch of poor reception. She asked whether I could leave the vessel now, and I admitted I was below the waterline trying to find a route that wasn’t already occupied by tofu with a military hobby.

She told me she was at the guarded response dock with Lukas. Lyra and Cherry had been informed in Twawi, but nobody was pretending they could cross the distance fast enough to appear in the next room.

"I heard you, sweetheart. I was looking for a way out, and I knew staying had been my choice, not something you owed me a rescue for."

"Good," she said. "You could remember that while doing everything possible to make the rescue unnecessary."

I loved her a little harder for refusing to turn concern into permission for more stupidity. Then I put the thought somewhere I could carry it while moving, because affection wasn’t useful if I stood still and let a mercenary reach me.

The ballast passage opened into a storage bay stacked with secured sale cargo. A crate beside the entrance held polished luxury fittings worth enough that I briefly considered how easily one small item might fit beside my coils.

A rocket struck the far support before greed could complete the thought. Horass had reached the upper service balcony and fired down into the route ahead, collapsing the walkway I had intended to cross.

I threw myself behind the luxury crate. The blast shattered its contents, sending expensive metal and glass across the floor while the thick packing material caught fragments that would otherwise have introduced themselves to my face.

[System: Look at that, champ. Money finally did buy happiness, provided you define happiness as not having half a chandelier shoved through your arse.]

I was mourning the profit and appreciating the protection at the same time, which felt like healthy emotional range.

Horass didn’t approach the broken crate immediately. He watched the timer-shaped behavior of my retreat, then aimed at the cargo suspension above me instead of offering another direct projectile to catch.

I moved as the support failed. A heavy secured pallet dropped into the space I had occupied, punching through a weakened floor panel and opening the compartment below to the water already spreading through the lower system.

The ship shuddered. Somewhere above us, an alarm finally became loud enough to suggest the ordinary crew had stopped interpreting our fight as a private customer-service issue.

I reached the side wall, found a maintenance recess and watched cold water surge through the damaged floor opening. My new buoyancy helped hold my body clear of the jagged edge, but the current wanted to pull everything loose toward the deeper compartment.

Horass stood on the remaining upper walkway, steady despite the motion. He had forced me into water he expected to limit my routes, and I needed to make that expectation wrong before the ship’s next movement proved his plan more effective than intended.

I told Bridget I had reached the lower ballast bay and warned her that the vessel was taking water, making the damage part of the rescue plan instead of another secret.

The loose floor panel beside me was large, heavy and just within three meters. I looked at the empty space against my coils, then at the opening beneath it, and began calculating a theft that would improve my escape while making the boat’s evening considerably worse.