I could more easily have lifted a semi truck filled with pudding.
That water. All that water …
I took a deep breath and tried to slow my breathing, then forced my eyes open. From my vantage hovering on the spyril jets, I could see over the waves. I’d gotten turned around, and had to reorient myself. I’d crossed half the distance and needed to continue, but it was sparking difficult to motivate myself to release the streambeam and fall back down.
With effort, I let myself down, splashing back into the sea. I used the black smoke rising into the sky as a guidepost. I thought of the people inside the building. With no water to jump to, they’d likely be fleeing from the flames above, moving down to the lower levels. But that would leave them to drown when the waters returned.
How horrible a death that would be, trapped inside a building as the waters rushed back in, perversely stuck between the heat above and the cold depths below.
Furious, I increased the speed of the spyril.
Something snapped.
Suddenly, I was spinning in a rush of water and bubbles. I cut the thrust. Blast! One of the footjets had stopped working. I struggled to the surface, coughing, cold. It was really hard to stay afloat with the weight of the now-powerless spyril towing me down and with my clothing still on.
And why was it so hard to float? I was made of mostly water, right? Shouldn’t I float easily?
Fighting the swells, I tried to reach down and fix the spyril jet. But I didn’t even know what had caused it to stop working, and I wasn’t particularly good at swimming unaided. Eventually the inevitable happened and I started sinking. I had to engage the single working jet of my spyril to get back afloat.
I felt like I’d swallowed half the ocean so far. Coughing, I started to panic again as I realized just how dangerous the open waters could be. I positioned my one leg with a working jet behind me, turned the spyril on half power, and pushed myself toward the distant buildings.
I could focus only on keeping myself afloat and pointed toward civilization. It was slow going. Too slow. Keenly, I felt the shame of having rushed in to be a hero only to end up limping along, having nearly created a new crisis instead of solving the first one. What better example of Prof’s warnings could I get?
Fortunately, my terror was manageable, so long as I had that spyril jet to give me some measure of control over the situation. As I got closer to the city, the water warmed around me. Eventually, blessedly, I reached one of the outer buildings, a low one with the roof only two stories or so out of the water. The single jet was enough to propel me upward—if at an unexpected angle—and I grabbed the rooftop’s lip and hauled myself over, coughing.
Though the spyril had done all the work, I was exhausted. I flopped over, smelling smoke in the air, and stared at the sky.
Those people. I tried to climb to my feet. Maybe I could …
The building blazed nearby, only one street over. Fully alight, the top half had burned completely, an inferno. I could feel the heat even from a distance. This was more than the work of just one or two firebombs. Either Newton had continued throwing more in, or the place had been primed to go up. Around the structure, water coursed in a vortex, revealing a broken, wet street far below.
A few corpses spotted the ground. People had tried to leap free of the flames.
Even as I watched, the water was released. It crashed back in upon the building, and the hissing indicated that the fire had managed to creep down toward those levels that had formerly been submerged. The impact caused the top floors of the building to collapse into the water, blowing steam into the air with a horrible noise.
I stumbled to my feet, feeling utterly defeated. On a nearby roof I saw Regalia’s watery projection standing with hands clasped before her. She looked toward me, then melted into the surface of the sea and vanished.
I collapsed onto the rooftop. Why? It was so pointless.
Prof is right, I thought. They murder indiscriminately. Why did I think that any of them could be good?
My pants buzzed. I sighed, fishing out my mobile. I got a little water on it, but Mizzy said it was fully waterproof.
Prof was