The Rebellious Tide Read online

  Dominic had Giorgos pinned to the ground, his fist held in the air. It was about to fall like a hammer when Sebastien pulled him from behind. The cabin cleaner and the deck commander climbed to their feet.

  “That’s enough,” Sebastien shouted, standing between them. Giorgos stood up straight and adjusted the cuffs of his white uniform, reminding Sebastien of how he looked in the viewfinder of his camera.

  Nikos, the young security commander with the cocksure attitude, arrived a second later with two of his guards. The onlookers that encircled the scene protested while the blue-suited guards grabbed Dominic by the arms. He didn’t put up a fight as they escorted him away.

  “Nikos, that man didn’t do anything wrong,” Sebastien said, his eyes wide and his voice fraught. He glared at Giorgos, who was slipping away through the crowd. “We all saw the deck commander assault a woman. The man you took away, Dominic, was just trying to help.”

  Diya appeared at his side. “It’s true,” she said. “Giorgos hit me. If anyone is taken away, it should be him.”

  The young commander’s amber eyes darted from Sebastien to Diya to Sebastien again. His eyebrows angled downward in skeptical arches. “You both saw what happened?”

  They nodded.

  “Then come with me.”

  They followed Nikos to the administrative section of A Deck. His office was sterile and tidy. There wasn’t much in the cube-shaped room except for a desk, computer, cabinet, safe, and a few neatly stacked folders. His only personal effects were a black vinyl jacket that hung behind the door and a few paperback novels on top of the cabinet; a mix of science fiction and classics, judging by the titles.

  Nikos spoke efficiently, but he wasn’t as cold as he’d been that first evening. There was a depth in his eyes that hinted at more beneath the hard exterior. He looks so young, Sebastien thought. A boy trying hard to be a man. In reality, they were the same age.

  Nikos took notes as Sebastien and Diya recounted what had led to a cleaner and a commander wrestling on the floor.

  “Thank you both for your time,” he said as they wrapped up. “I’ll share the report with Kostas. We’ll be sure the appropriate actions are taken.”

  Shortly afterward, as Sebastien, Ilya, and Diya huddled together in her cabin on B Deck, they didn’t know what to make of Nikos’s remarks. It was three in the morning, and they were still wearing what remained of their costumes from the party. Diya drank tea from a ceramic mug that said Kiss Me I’m Irish in fat green letters.

  “What does that mean, ‘appropriate actions’?” she asked.

  “I guess Kostas makes the call in the end,” Ilya said, trying to be hopeful but knowing better.

  Much like Sebastien and Ilya’s, Diya’s cabin was a rectangular box no more than nine square metres with two bunks affixed to the far wall, a narrow desk with a chair, a cabinet for hanging clothes, a safe, and a skinny door leading to the shower and sink.

  “Giorgos has been harassing me for weeks,” she said. “He is truly despicable. What I told Nikos is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him everything?” Sebastien asked, recalling how terse her answers had been.

  She shrugged. “There’s no point. Nikos already knows. It wouldn’t make a difference what I say. Giorgos is one of them. He can do whatever he wants. He’s protected.”

  Sebastien understood. It was the same reason he hadn’t mentioned the white powder sprinkled in Dominic’s glass, or whose jacket pocket that powder had come from. They couldn’t trust Nikos. He was one of them, too.

  “How did it start?” Ilya asked. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his red cape draped over himself like a blanket.

  “Gambling,” she said with a snort. “The officers put on these secret gambling parties every now and then in one of the lounges on A Deck. They asked me to be their dealer a while back. I guess they’re too proud to shuffle their own cards, the pompous pricks. I couldn’t say no. Most of the commanders are usually there.”

  “Sounds delightful,” Ilya said with a frown.

  “Just picture a room crowded with drunken malákas and their egos, Greek pop music from two decades ago, and enough cigarette smoke to suffocate a small village.”

  “I think I saw a horror movie once that started out like that,” Sebastien said from his spot by the desk.

  Diya took a sip of tea, her eyes tired. “It wasn’t so bad at first. They were obnoxious, but they never treated me poorly. Giorgos was even kind in the beginning, before he got too friendly. It started with a hand on the shoulder, which I let slide. Then the hand drifted lower as the weeks went by. I kept telling him to stop, but he would just laugh it off. I felt like a mother scolding a child.”

  “Doesn’t he have a thing going on with Contessa?” Ilya asked.

  “Wait, what?” Sebastien was genuinely surprised. “Contessa Bloor, diva of the Glacier? There’s no way.”

  Diya nodded. “Believe it or not, it’s true. Their forbidden love affair is the worst-kept secret on the ship. The distinguished deck commander and his beautiful American songbird. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that Giorgos is married. He has a son, too.”

  “What is a woman like Contessa doing with a lifeless coatrack like Giorgos?”

  “It’s the uniform,” Diya said with a resigned shrug. “It drives women mad. I’ve seen his wife. She’s gorgeous. I heard she’s coming aboard in Athens for a couple weeks. Poor thing. She’ll probably be cooped up in one of the guest suites while her revolting husband lives like a bachelor below decks.”

  “I guess one affair isn’t enough for him,” Sebastien said.

  Diya pulled a blanket around her shoulders. “It never is for men like him. He’s been following me around for weeks, watching me. Then tonight he cornered me in the crew bar. I told him I didn’t want anything to do with him, but he wouldn’t let me go. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ilya said. “We should have stopped him as soon as he touched you.”

  Diya grabbed him by the hand. “The only person who did something wrong was Giorgos. Don’t put any of the blame on yourself.”

  “We just stood there, helpless.” Sebastien hugged his arms around himself, ashamed.

  “I wouldn’t want either of you risking your positions on board for me.” She gave them a reassuring smile. “Besides, I can take care of myself. I’ve faced worse men than Giorgos.”

  “Who could be worse than that vulture?” Ilya asked with a look of revulsion.

  “My husband.”

  The two men were silent as they waited for her to continue. She hesitated, looking at the floor, then drew a deep breath.

  “I thought I could love him at first, even though Rajan wasn’t like the romantic men in the Bollywood movies I used to watch as a girl. Marriage was never important to me before I met him. I had just earned a mathematics degree, and I was too busy with my work. Then he came into my life and made up his mind. He was going to make me his wife. I just let it happen.

  “It wasn’t until the second year that he hit me for the first time. We argued often about my work. He was embarrassed by what people would think, that it would look like he couldn’t provide for us. It was the same argument for months until one day it escalated. The slap left a mark on my skin, but it was nothing a little makeup couldn’t fix.”

  Sebastien and Ilya cringed. She paused for some tea.

  “Every day was different, depending on his mood. There were days of affection, and there were days of complete silence. Then there were days when Rajan would pin me to the floor with his hands around my neck — he’d learned how to leave minimal evidence.

  “He didn’t want to hurt me. It wasn’t about the pain. All he wanted was control. Sometimes I thought he’d actually strangle the breath out of me just to prove that he could. I felt myself diminishing as the years went by. No words came to mind when I tried to describe myself. I had lost my identity.
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br />   “Rajan wanted a son, but there was no way I was going to let that happen. I already had a father and a husband. I couldn’t bear to be owned by another man. I packed a suitcase when he was at the office one day, then I walked out the door. It was so easy. I could have done it years earlier. I guess sometimes we build our own cages.”

  Every muscle in her body was limp with exhaustion, but an indignant flame flickered in her eyes.

  “I figured I’d have better odds of happiness somewhere far away. I took a train to Goa, one of the only parts of India where gambling isn’t outlawed. I went to nearly every casino and put my math skills to work. Chance and luck aren’t the same; everything is an equation. It took me a week to win enough to fly to Europe and survive for a few months. Then I found a job here. The Glacier is home now.”

  The men exchanged glances, impressed by Diya’s ability to reclaim her life.

  “What happened to you was terrible, but you’re free now.” Sebastien placed his hand gently on her wrist where Giorgos’s grip had been. “You can forget about him.”

  She flinched at Sebastien’s touch. “I thought so, too, until Giorgos turned his attention to me months ago,” she said, relaxing the tension in her arm. “I see a piece of Rajan behind his eyes. Men like that share something the rest of us can’t understand.”

  The door burst open as Diya’s cabinmate stepped into the room, nearly tripping on Ilya’s outstretched legs on the floor. She was an Irishwoman named Briana with an abnormally loud voice. Her white dress had streaks of purple down the front. A crown of plastic laurels was tangled in the knots of her hair.

  “Bad news,” she said, shutting the door behind her. “Dominic’s been fired.”

  “No.” Diya’s hands hovered in front of her mouth. “They can’t do that.”

  “They can,” Briana said, her voice filling the narrow room. “They have him locked up in his cabin as we speak. He’ll stay there until we dock in Athens. Then he’s gone.”

  Sebastien shook his head in disbelief. “They’re evicting him for standing up to assault? What about Giorgos?”

  “I told you,” Diya said, her face heavy with guilt. “Nothing will happen to him. He’s protected.”

  An image flashed through Sebastien’s mind — a young officer with close-cropped hair pouring a mysterious powder into a glass of water. Dominic’s words from earlier that night repeated themselves in his ears.

  But the less you know, the better.

  He could hear his father, too, speaking to Giorgos in the atrium, unaware they were being watched.

  He’s a harmless cabin cleaner. What could he possibly do?

  “We arrive in Athens in two days,” Sebastien said, looking at everyone in the cabin. “We still have time to figure out a way to save Dominic.”

  “You’re right,” Diya said. “We can’t let this happen.”

  Sebastien tried to appear strong, but he couldn’t deny the ripple of apprehension beneath his skin. Something unpleasant was in the air, and he sensed that it might be worse than he could imagine.

  SIX

  I Know What I Saw

  The water was glass the next morning as the Glacier travelled onward to Athens. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed a panorama of the sea to everyone in the fitness centre, on the sixteenth deck, directly below the navigation bridge.

  Working out was the last thing Sebastien cared to do this morning — there were more pressing things on his mind — but he had a plan.

  He leaned forward on the bench he straddled and dropped the dumbbell to the floor. The walls around this corner were covered in mirrors. From here, he could see the entire gym behind him.

  The ship’s dancers occupied an entire row of cardio machines that faced the windows. They ran and pedalled furiously, despite the hangovers, desperate to stay below the ten-pound threshold that could end their Glacier careers.

  Behind them, Ilya was coaching a client as she performed a series of complicated movements on the matted floor. “Push … Harder … You got it … Nice work!” he said, cheering her on. She was struggling, judging by her flushed skin and sweat-drenched spandex, but able to muster the energy to flash a flirtatious smile Ilya’s way as she swung a kettle bell between her legs.

  Good luck with that, Sebastien thought, chuckling to himself.

  Just past Ilya was the target. Nikos was seated on a rowing machine. The muscles in his arms flexed and relaxed as he pulled the cable rhythmically. His black shorts ended at the thigh, revealing a set of impressive quads. It wasn’t exactly a coincidence to find the young security commander here. The officers kept strict workout routines. Ilya knew them all by heart.

  Nikos wrapped up his session exactly when expected. Sebastien waited a minute before following him into the men’s locker room.

  A pattern of Greek keys formed golden spirals across the tiled walls of the shower. There were twelve nozzles spaced equally apart, but Nikos was the only person there. The taut muscles of his body were wrapped in steam and spray. A round emblem of black ink was etched into the planes of his chest. The two men nodded to each other silently.

  The officer was shy, his body turned away at an angle and his head tilted forward.

  Sebastien held his head back as he washed the shampoo from his hair. He lathered the soap slowly over his chest, feeling every contour of his body, before his hands made their way farther down. Nikos glanced over at him, then looked away. The covert glances continued until their eyes met.

  They faced each other and watched as their hands slid over their bodies. The warm water rinsed the soap off their skin. Not a word was spoken. Their eyes conveyed everything they needed to say. They had nothing to hide now.

  Nikos was breathing heavily when Sebastien turned off his shower nozzle. He flung the towel over his shoulder and disappeared around the corner.

  Ten minutes later, Nikos emerged from the locker room wearing black joggers and a sweatshirt. His hair was still damp, and his gym bag was strapped over his back. He was surprised to see Sebastien waiting for him on a bench outside the entrance.

  “Nikos.” The two men stood and looked at each other, inadvertently recreating the scene in the shower, though this time they were clothed.

  “Sebastien,” he said, chin tilted down and hands clasped around the gym bag’s strap across his chest.

  “Can we talk?”

  Nikos nodded as they walked through the sliding doors to Sunset Deck’s outdoor promenade. Sebastien doubted he would ever tire of this view. The sea stretched out around them. The salty air stroked his skin. The rest of the world could be burning and they would have no reason to care.

  “It’s about Dominic.” He detected a flash of relief and disappointment on Nikos’s face. “What he did took courage. He doesn’t deserve to be evicted for it.”

  “I heard about Kostas’s decision. It’s unfortunate.”

  “We can’t let it happen.”

  Nikos paused by the railing and turned to face him. The morning light chased the shadows from his skin, and there was a glimpse of the man he could be. “What do you want from me?” The tone wasn’t hostile. His voice was soft. He genuinely wanted an answer.

  Sebastien stepped closer until he could smell the soap on Nikos’s skin.

  “I want you to help me.”

  His father was a proud man. You could even say he was something of a narcissist, judging by his office. The enviable life of Kostas Kourakis was on display in the many frames that covered his walls. There were certificates embossed with seals. A few medals lined the shelf. Most of all, there were the photographs.

  An image of Kostas shaking hands with someone distinguished.

  A solitary portrait of Kostas as a young man.

  Kostas on his wedding day, holding his bride by the waist. Kostas with his children, a protective hand on each shoulder.

  Kostas beamed in every single one, evidence of his satisfaction.

  Sebastien observed every detail from the upholstered chair. His father sat
behind a desk only two metres in front of him. They were alone together for the first time in their lives. Son and father, hunter and hunted.

  Nikos had come through. All Sebastien wanted was his help to secure a private meeting with the elusive hotel commander, a man who didn’t take appointments. Perhaps Nikos was an ally after all.

  “Tell me about yourself,” Kostas said. His smile was warm, but he had a restless face. The features shifted as easily as the surface of the sea. He glanced at the name badge on Sebastien’s lapel. “Goh. An interesting name.”

  “It’s from my father’s side. He’s Chinese.”

  You’re my father, Sebastien thought. I’m your son.

  “You don’t look like any Chinaman I’ve ever seen.”

  “My mother’s French-Canadian,” he explained.

  My mother you abandoned.

  “Exotic.”

  “You have a beautiful family.” Sebastien’s eyes darted to the wall of staged smiles behind Kostas. One photo in the centre flaunted the four of them on the prow of a yacht. They were dressed in matching linen outfits with the wind in their hair. He cringed inside.

  Kostas twisted around in his chair as though he had no idea what was behind him. “Ah, yes.” A proud smile swept across his face. “You might meet them soon. They’re coming on board in Athens for the two-week sailing to Cannes. A few of the other officers’ families will be here, too. It should be fun.”

  Why did you leave me and my mother?

  “Fun.” Sebastien couldn’t tell how convincing his smile was as something violent churned in his stomach. “Will they be staying here below decks?”

  Kostas laughed as though the idea was absurd. “In Hades? Oh no. They’ll be in one of the guest suites. Far too many corrupting influences down here.”

  “Of course.”

  Kostas reclined in his chair, clasping his hands together against his stomach. “So, Nikos tells me you have something important to say. What is it that you want?”