I know one thing for absolute certain, though: Papa helped any sufferers he encountered. He tried to give them hope. He knew hopelessness was at the core of the seasickness, and he always did everything he could do to instill optimism in everyone he ever knew.
I walk over to the window and gaze out at the shifting waters. How do I help Papa now? Dickens & Sons were my last legal hope.
A persistent shape, first far off and then drawing closer, teeters on the edge of my vision. I swing my gaze and gasp; Jojo leaps down from the hammock and darts over, straight into my arms. She remains still, totally transfixed.
A dolphin. It must be at least two meters long. I place my hand on the window. What does the creature feel like? If only I could touch it. It looks so happy and carefree.
Apparently most sea creatures had different natural habitats and patterns of migration before the disaster. Many are now attracted to the lights of vessels and buildings, but I’ve never known a dolphin to come this close before. It swims even closer. It’s a bottlenose, gliding effortlessly as if it is the water, as if a part of the ocean before us has taken form.
“Look, Jojo, it’s smiling at us,” I whisper.
The creature stops. It turns its head and follows whatever has caught its attention until it’s out of sight. I suck in a quick breath and slump against the window. The corners of my mouth lift and my insides flutter.
Hope is all I have right now; it’s as unending as the oceans—and I must hold on to it.
I just need a miracle.
The stars twinkle above us; a midnight-blue sky that every so often rewards us with a shooting star. A gentle breeze whispers through the greenery, the moonlight casting a subtle incandescent glow. Everything about the scene is utterly magical.
“Camping” is so cozy, definitely my favorite of the Holozone programs. Jojo stays alert, gazing upward with a low growl. An owl’s hoot breaks the silence.
I reach for dessert, despite having eaten too much already. It’s early evening; I’ve been at the twins’ for hours, and Christmas dinner seems like ages ago. Luckily one of our favorite restaurants was moving through the area, and the blanket spread before us now bears an assortment of scrumptious sights and smells. I pile the plate with some mango pudding, a coconut bun, ice cream, and a banana fritter. Mmm. Theo grins at my hoard.
I raise my eyebrows. “All I know is, Ramadan’s for fasting—and all other occasions are for feasting. Also, do you have any idea how much running I had to do during Ripper’s Revels earlier? Ripper himself was after me! I’ve never played so many back-to-back games.”
“Lightweight.” Tabby grins, chewing on a juicy rib.
Theo leans forward for some jelly and cookies. “Reckon anyone from London will win a place this year?” he asks.
We’ve been chatting about the London Marathon for an hour now.
I shrug. “You never know; we had a lot of northerners participating last year! Imagine . . . traveling through all that water to be here for the event.” I shudder.
Theo fixes his gaze on me. “Leyla, I was thinking . . . maybe you could join us next time we leave the city to—”
I shift, scowling. “Not this again, Theo.”
“Please,” he says. “Mum could make you papers in no time because you’d be traveling with us; no need to wait two years until you’re eighteen.”
I glare at him. “Why do you always have to bring this up? Crossing the borders can get stuffed. I’m not interested in the rest of the country, accept it.” They couldn’t pay me to venture out there in the wild. All the unknown spaces and creatures and endless dangers lurking everywhere. I wrap my arms around myself.
Tabby tilts her head to one side, her eyes narrow. “You can’t avoid leaving London forever, you know. And you’re missing out on so much, Leyla. You need to see all our hotels; the footage doesn’t do them justice. Theo’s got all kinds of tech wizardry going on.”
Vivian Campbell, the twins’ mother, took over the family hotel business after her husband’s untimely death two years ago, when the stretch of tunnel his train was traveling through collapsed. Each hotel is designed to mimic a specific Old World era, furnished in relics and memorabilia of the age. They’ve even become tourist spots in their own right. Theo’s only real interest in the family’s business is the high-tech illusions he lays on for the guests.
“And you’ve missed all my nationwide comps,” Tabby continues, lathering cream and jam onto a scone now. “I’ve another one in Wales, in the new year. Wish you could see me give them a good bashing.”
Tabs is gifted at several martial arts disciplines. I’ve watched her practice and I’m certain I developed sympathy bruises each time.
“She’s not kidding.” Theo holds his hands out in front of him as if to protect himself. “She’s been training in here with samurai and ninja warriors. Her opponents are in for a shock. Yesterday she had us battling on board a ship on the Aegean Sea. Apparently we were saving the Roman general Julius Caesar. Those pirates never saw her coming!”
Tabby smooths her hair. “Not one of those gormless gits had the balls to take me on.”
I finish eating and draw my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them. My hair falls around my legs. “It’s just not my cup of tea.” Better to stick with what you know—always.
It goes quiet. Jojo chews on her tartan dress. She yelps and jumps when Müller, the Campbells’ latest Housekeeper, materializes beside her. He’s wearing only football shorts. He sticks his chest out, flicks back a golden ponytail, and acknowledges me with a wink. I can’t help giggling.
The twins take it in turns choosing a new Housekeeper every few months; all the programming remains the same, just the image and personality change. Tabby’s choices are always funny. Currently it’s a famous German footballer from the ’20s.
Tabby looks Müller up and down and blows him a kiss.
The Housekeeper returns it before addressing her. “Your Highness—”
Theo snorts and we all start giggling now.
“You requested an alert for the viewing of the marathon draw.”
“I did,” Tabby says. “Thank you, Müller, that will be all.”
He flickers out of sight.
“Cease Play,” orders Tabby, and in an instant the Old World vanishes before us.
We’re in the gleaming space of the Holozone, the largest room in the Campbells’ home. The virtual installment was a gift from the twins’ late father for their thirteenth birthdays.
We jump up and remove our sensors and lenses. The siblings tower over me despite only a year between us. As we head to the lounge I spot their mother, and Tabby and Theo go on ahead while I pause to speak to her.
Vivian, a carbon copy of Theo except with shorter hair, tilts her head at me. A sad smile lights up her kind blue eyes. “Stay over, Leyla. You could watch the anniversary commemorations here with us instead of going to that overcrowded pub tomorrow.”
“I’d love to, Viv. Except . . . Papa and I always watch the anniversary broadcast at the pub and even though he won’t be with me this year, I still need to do it. I’m not going home just yet, though. We’re all watching the marathon draw first.”