The Rebellious Tide Page 7

  I want to know what happened thirty years ago.

  I want to know if you ever think about her.

  About me.

  He hadn’t planned to confront his father so soon, but something changed when he saw the kindness on Kostas’s face in the atrium the other day. Perhaps redemption would be possible once Sebastien learned the truth. Now that they were so close and alone, he found himself barely able to hold back.

  But first, there was another matter at hand.

  He leaned forward, fixing his eyes on his father’s. “It’s about Dominic. I saw everything that happened in the crew bar last night.” He paused, aware of the controversy the following accusation could stir. “Giorgos was making a woman feel uncomfortable,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “She told him to stop, but he became angry. He grabbed her by the wrist. It looked like it was going to get worse until Dominic stepped in. He was only trying to defuse the situation, to help the woman being intimidated.”

  “Yes, yes. I’ve read the report from Nikos.”

  “I heard that Dominic has been fired over this.”

  “He attacked a commanding officer,” Kostas said, his words blunt in delivery and sharp in meaning. His eyes appeared to possess a darker shade of green than earlier as the lines of his face hardened. “According to the report, this woman struck Giorgos. He was then attacked by Dominic, who grabbed him by his uniform and tackled him to the floor. Giorgos did nothing to provoke this behaviour. He was the one being assaulted.”

  “That’s not what happened,” Sebastien said.

  “There’s no evidence of Giorgos harassing this woman.”

  “There were at least thirty people who saw what happened. Talk to them!” The air in the room felt suddenly warmer. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead.

  “I doubt any of them will come forward.” The corners of Kostas’s lips curled upward ever so slightly. “As for you, I’m willing to dismiss your previous statement as a temporary lapse in judgment. It was dark. You’d had one too many drinks. You can’t be sure of what you saw.”

  Diya was right. You’re protecting him. You can’t be trusted.

  “I know what I saw,” Sebastien responded.

  And I saw what you gave that officer to put in Dominic’s drink. Now I just need to find out why.

  Kostas leaned forward, placing his palms on the surface of the desk. “Be careful, Mr. Goh. An accusation like that can be dangerous.”

  Sebastien felt the sting of shame on his cheeks. He hated himself for failing to predict this would have been the inevitable outcome. He hated his father more.

  He wanted to lay bare his identity, to demand answers about what happened thirty years earlier, but he buried the words beneath his tongue. It was clear that he couldn’t trust a word from the man’s mouth. The truth wasn’t going to reveal itself in a conversation. It would have to be uncovered another way.

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Good, good.” The smile returned to Kostas’s face as though it had never left. “Is there anything else you want?”

  I want you to be punished.

  I want you to lose everything.

  I want you to know it was because of me.

  “Nothing at all,” Sebastien said with a smile of his own.

  He couldn’t deny the pleasure he felt. There was power in knowing what his father didn’t.

  Dominic’s cabin was in the depths of C Deck. The air was thicker and warmer than it was above. The constant clash of sea against steel could be heard through the ship’s hull.

  Nikos led Sebastien through the labyrinthine passageways of the crew quarters until they came across a security guard seated outside a door. He was smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone. Nikos barked a few words in Greek, sending the blue-suited guard scurrying away.

  “I can’t believe he’s being imprisoned in his own cabin,” Sebastien said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “I’m just following orders.”

  “I know,” he said apologetically. “That wasn’t a jab at you. I’m thankful for your help. You didn’t have to do any of this for me.”

  Nikos offered a shy nod. He gave three firm knocks on the door before inserting a key card above the handle. With a tilt of the head, he gestured for Sebastien to go inside. “I’ll wait out here.”

  The cabin was a similar size to Sebastien’s, but there were four bunks instead of two. Dominic lay in one of the bottom bunks wearing basketball shorts and a grey, hooded sweatshirt. There was a book in his hands. Hearing the door open and close, he climbed to his feet to greet his unexpected visitor.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I wanted to talk to you about last night,” Sebastien said, taking a seat on the opposite bunk. “This is cruel, locking you up alone like this.”

  Dominic offered him a bag of greasy potato chips. “At least I get to spend my final hours on the Glacier in peace.” He swept his arms outward. “They relocated my cabinmates.”

  “I tried pleading your case to Kostas. It was no use.”

  Dominic shook his head, wiping crumbs from his lips. “Thanks for trying, but you’re right. There’s no point. He’s not going to listen.”

  “What you did was brave. The rest of us just stood there like mannequins. You showed that arrogant maláka that he can’t just do whatever he wants. There are people on board who won’t put up with it.”

  Dominic nodded along, but his eyes drifted thoughtfully to the cabin floor. “He’ll get away with it, though. They always do.”

  “Perhaps this time. But things change.”

  “I saw him pull Diya to the ground, and I couldn’t take it.” Dominic’s nostrils flared with anger. “He’s twice her size. What kind of man treats another person like that?”

  “A coward,” Sebastien said. “A powerful, protected coward.”

  “Exactly.” Dominic ran his fingers through his hair, which was no longer firm with styling gel. “I don’t know what I’m going to do for work now, but at least I’ll see my family again.”

  “What are they like?”

  “I’m here because of my brother and sister. Our parents died years ago. I come from a part of the Philippines where there isn’t much opportunity. Most people I know have ways to make a living that aren’t exactly legal, some of them shadier than others. I don’t want that for my family. I work here so they can get an education without worrying about money. What I get paid as a cleaner may not seem like much to you, but it felt like winning the lottery when I got this job. Free room and board, payment in euros. I was lucky.”

  “I know how you feel,” Sebastien said. “I didn’t grow up with money, either.”

  The two men looked at each other from across the cabin, feeling a little less different than they had earlier.

  “They’re both in school now,” Dominic went on. “My sister is studying business, and my brother wants to be a nurse. I’m so proud of them.” He cradled his forehead in his hands. “I don’t know what we’re going to do now.”

  “It’s not over yet. We still have time to change Kostas’s mind.”

  He shook his head. “It won’t change a thing.”

  “We need to try. We can’t let the commanders control us like this.”

  “Do you think I’m being evicted because of what happened last night in the crew bar? People don’t usually get locked in their cabin when they’re fired. This is different. They want me gone.”

  “Why?” Sebastien’s voice lowered, signalling for Dominic to do the same.

  “I told you last night — the less you know, the better. You don’t want to get mixed up in this.”

  “What did that officer put in your drink?”

  “I don’t know,” Dominic admitted. “Cocaine, probably, or MDMA. I know what would have happened if I drank it, though. They would have taken me to the medical clinic to get me tested for drugs. Not only would they have a reason to throw me off the ship, it would also hurt my credibility
.”

  Sebastien looked intently into his eyes, his tone more forceful. “Tell me why they’re after you.”

  Dominic hesitated, touching the gold crucifix that hung from his neck. “I was cleaning cabins in the officers’ quarters four days ago, the wing behind the locked door where Kostas and the other commanders live. I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see.”

  “What was it?”

  “Now they know. They’ve been watching me ever since. If I hadn’t stood up to Giorgos last night, they would have found another reason to get rid of me.”

  “Tell me what you saw.”

  After another hesitation, Dominic leaned forward with a cautious look in his eyes.

  “Cabin A66. They’re hiding something they don’t want anyone to find. Something bad.”

  The two men sat upright as the door flung open. Nikos motioned for Sebastien to leave. “Time’s up.”

  SEVEN

  Free Dom

  As Dominic remained locked in his cabin the following morning, the corridors of B Deck and C Deck were covered with posters printed on cheap photocopy paper. The text was big, black, and bold.

  Time is running out to stop the unfair eviction of Dominic Mendoza.

  If you want to help, meet in the computer room today at 12:30.

  Bring friends.

  Sebastien, Diya, and Ilya didn’t know how many people to expect. There hadn’t been much time to plan anything other than to spread the word by mouth and poster. By 12:35 the computer room was so crowded that everyone had to stand. They came from all areas of the staff and crew, from the spa to housekeeping, but the majority wore the grey uniforms of Dominic’s colleagues in the cabin-service crew.

  The energy in the room was a combination of uncertainty and impatience. A small group of dancers stood in one corner, exchanging stories from the previous night in the crew bar. Some housekeepers huddled together nearby, fidgeting with their hands and glancing around the room. Scattered throughout the crowd were flimsy keyboards and the black screens of old computer monitors, relics from a simpler time.

  The hum of conversation diminished when Sebastien and Diya stood on a table in the middle of the room. They were opening their mouths to speak when a knock sounded on the door.

  Ilya opened it to reveal Contessa Bloor, the ship’s star. Everyone was surprised to see her.

  “Sorry,” she mouthed silently as she made her way to an empty spot against the wall.

  “As you all know, we arrive in Athens tomorrow morning,” Sebastien began, shifting attention from Contessa back to himself. “Our friend, Dominic Mendoza, will be forcefully removed from the ship, his home, for defending a woman from an abusive man.”

  Diya’s face was tense. “Giorgos is the one who should be punished, not Dominic,” she said. “But the commanders are the ones in power. They think they can get away with anything. We need to show them that isn’t true.”

  She glanced at Contessa, who looked away. There were scattered cheers and nods of affirmation throughout the room.

  “Someone stuck a note on my cabin door yesterday,” she went on. “It said ‘Good girls keep quiet.’ I wanted to laugh when I read it, but then I remembered this isn’t a joke. It’s our reality. They think we’re that easily intimidated.”

  “We can’t let Giorgos and his protectors erase what he did from our memory,” Sebastien said. “We must show them we know the truth. They need to understand that if we can’t get justice for Dominic and Diya, there will be consequences.”

  When the meeting came to an end, Contessa slipped out the door. She was walking down the wide passageway of Styx when someone called her name from behind. Startled, she spun around to see Diya, the petite blackjack dealer, hurrying over to her, a bundle of curls bouncing atop her head.

  “I know this must be uncomfortable for you,” Diya said, her tone gentle, “given how Giorgos is involved.”

  Contessa was about to feign confusion, then realized there was no use in denying it. Her affair with Giorgos had been going on long enough that it was no longer a scandalous secret. It used to bring her a delicious sense of pride when people discovered she was sleeping with the mighty deck commander. Now it made her feel sick.

  “I probably know more than anyone that he’s no gentleman,” Contessa responded.

  “Why did you come?”

  She had wondered the same thing, but she gave Diya the same answer she’d given herself. “I just want to help.”

  It was quiet on A Deck that evening when Kostas Kourakis tidied his office. He’d always been an orderly man. “A mess in your hands shows a mess in your mind,” he liked to tell his young son. He faced his wall of photographs, but the memories didn’t interest him. The frames would often move to the swaying of the ship. He wanted to be sure they weren’t askew.

  Five loud knocks sounded against the door in quick succession. Upon opening it, he saw it was Giorgos.

  “You need to come down to B Deck,” the deck commander said, his face drawn even tighter than usual. “Now.”

  They hurried down a narrow staircase that led to the staff quarters below. Kostas heard the noise before they stepped through the door.

  The main thoroughfare of Styx, the wide passageway that spanned the length of B Deck, was a carpet of black. Hundreds of staff and crew were seated along the cold steel floor, blocking the entrances to the staff cafeteria, purser’s office, medical clinic, and computer room. They were dressed entirely in black. Several of them had messages scrawled across their bodies in jagged lines of red paint.

  FREE DOM

  Sebastien and Ilya were in the middle of the floor. The dancers sat among the housekeepers. Musicians linked arms with servers. Even the ship’s head concierge and maître d’ were there, surrounded by cleaners and bus boys. There were no uniforms or class distinctions. They were united in the message on their bodies.

  Diya’s voice boomed through the intercom speakers that were mounted along the ceiling of Styx. She stood by the door of the purser’s office, the microphone in her hand attached to the base station on the wall by a coiled cord.

  “This ship isn’t just a job,” she said.

  Cheers rumbled along the passageway, echoing across the metal walls.

  “This ship certainly isn’t a vacation.”

  They shouted in agreement.

  “This is our home.”

  The noise of the crowd was thunderous when Kostas and Giorgos appeared through the door. The volume grew even louder when everyone saw them standing there, confused and unnerved.

  “The hotel commander has arrived,” Diya declared through the microphone. Kostas straightened his stance, adjusting the jacket of his uniform. Giorgos glared at her with a savage look on his face, but she had already decided she wouldn’t acknowledge his presence.

  Sebastien watched as Giorgos’s stare travelled from Diya to another familiar woman. Contessa was surrounded by members of the Filipino Mafia, her clothing splashed in red paint and her hair tied behind a black baseball cap. The anger in Giorgos’s eyes intensified when he saw her there, cheering along with everyone else.

  Diya turned to face Kostas. “We are here to show support for Dominic Mendoza. With all due respect, sir, your decision to evict him is wrong. There are dozens of people here tonight, including myself, who witnessed the courage that man showed in the face of an outrageous abuse of power.” She didn’t want to look at Giorgos, but she couldn’t help herself. Her gaze drilled into his, unyielding as a beam of steel. “Dominic should be applauded for what he did, not punished. He came here to the Glacier to provide a better life for his family. What we’re asking of you is simple: Reconsider your decision. Allow Dominic to remain on board. And show us all that you care about our safety and our dignity.”

  The once-raucous crowd was now silent. All eyes were on Kostas, the hotel commander with the power to choose between right and wrong. His move.

  Sebastien didn’t realize he was holding his breath. He remembered what Dominic had to
ld him the previous night — the fight in the crew bar was merely a convenient excuse to throw him off the ship. If it hadn’t happened, the commanders would have found another way to get rid of him. The protest was futile. Kostas wasn’t going to have a change of heart.

  But it wasn’t just about freeing Dominic — not in Sebastien’s mind, at least. This was about defiance. Sebastien wanted to chip away at his father’s power until there was nothing left.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Kostas adjusted his jacket and marched toward Diya with long, unhurried strides, as people shuffled out of his way to form a path. He took the microphone from her hands and cleared his throat.

  “You ungrateful little children. Get off the floor. This is absurd.”

  His words took a second to be understood, but the reaction was fierce. Insults and pleas surged in his direction in equal measure.

  “I don’t take demands from any of you,” he said, his voice blaring through the loudspeakers. “Remember who you work for.”

  Briana, the Irishwoman who shared a cabin with Diya, charged toward Kostas, her strawberry hair blowing behind her like wispy flames. She stood in front of the commander with a finger pointed in his face.

  “We have a right to protest,” she said.

  Kostas glared at her with rage in his eyes. The tone of his skin deepened into the colour of wine. It was a feeling Sebastien recognized.

  Without warning, the anger on the hotel commander’s face dissolved into laughter. The sound rumbled through the speakers and along the walls. “A right to protest? What makes you believe that?” His eyes blinked, and his face hardened. “This is my ship. You have no rights unless I say so. You are powerless.”

  The passageway was filled with indignant cries. Briana’s arms shook as she absorbed his words. With a snap of her lips, she ejected a bullet of saliva that splattered across Kostas’s chest.

  “Nikos, take this woman away!” he shouted in disgust. “Anyone not standing in the next few seconds will be dragged out.”