"We drove for maybe two hours," Jack said, "with nobody saying a word the whole way. I'm bricking it, at least at first. Then it occurs to me that if the plan was to have me disposed of, someone was going to a lot of unnecessary trouble. Which meant that there had to be a point to the trip – even if it wasn't exactly going to be a holiday."

"You seem to be good at working out the motives of criminals," Marine Boy said.

"You think? Wait 'til I've finished the story. Anyway, the trip ends at last, and I find myself being ushered into an ordinary little house in the middle of nowhere. You'd've thought that a crime boss would live in a huge luxury mansion or suchlike, but like I say, this particular one – Captain Morgan, as you call him – doesn't like to be obvious, and operates on a small scale. To outward appearances at least."

"I wouldn't call this place small scale."

"Yeah, but this is a business operation, not a personal whim. And anyway, it's supposed to be ultra secret."

"Oh, yes. Go on."

"So anyway, I get to meet this Mr Big. At first, I reckon I'm looking at an underling, a nobody; but this feeling lasts all of two seconds. Before he's even said a word, I realise there's something about him. Something in his eyes that tell you that he's powerful and ruthless, and you'd better watch yourself."

"I got that impression, too."

"He doesn't waste words, either. He tells me straight up that he has a job for me. Tells me I have the combination of talents he's looking for. I ask him what they might be, but he doesn't answer. Instead, he says he'll transfer ten thousand dollars to my bank account if I provide a satisfactory service."

"Ten grand?"

"Yup. For all I know, he has. He doesn't ask me if I accept the terms, or agree to perform this unknown service; but I get a pretty strong feeling that saying No would be a really bad idea. And that was it."

"That was it?"

"As far as Mr Big was concerned, anyway. Next thing I know I'm shown to a small bedroom, and I find myself under house arrest, sort of. I'm kept there for three weeks, more or less. There are people keeping an eye on me to make sure I don't run off – not that I could see anywhere to run off to – and I'm given no way of contacting the outside world. No phone or computer, or anything. Not even a TV. My only alternative to staring at the walls is to read the contents of a file they've given me. A file that contains a lot of information about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Someone had done quite a bit of research about you, and not just the sort of stuff you can get by trawling the news feeds and such. Some of it was quite personal – your daily life on Ocean Base, for example."

"Shit. Anything embarrassing?"

"Only if you think that the fact that underneath everything else you're a pretty ordinary thirteen-year-old is embarrassing. There's one thing you should know, though."

"What?"

"Someone on Ocean Base was feeding Mr Big this information."

"A spy?"

"Looks like it. And no, I have no clue who it was. But there was stuff about your daily routine that could only have been supplied by someone close enough to observe it."

Marine Boy thought for a moment. "That doesn't narrow it down, much. I mean, everyone on Ocean Base knows what everyone else's job is, and there are timetables and rotas and shift patterns plastered everywhere. Everything from which cooks are on duty for Monday's breakfast, to when PC-1 is due for its next routine maintenance. The place wouldn't function if we tried to keep secrets."

"Maybe. But this spy, whoever it was, knows a lot about you."

"There are a hundred and twenty-four people on Ocean Base. Well, me and a hundred and twenty-three others. I know a lot about all of them, and they all know a lot about me."

"Do they all know your grades?"

"My grades?"

"Yeah. Impressive or what? Do they get published? I mean, I don't see you as the boastful type."

"Well, no. I mean no, they don't get published. On the other hand, my Dad's busy and Professor Fumble is as absent-minded as anything, and either could've left them lying around. Or even if not, it would be a pretty simple hack to download them. Like I say, Ocean Base works with a maximum of trust and a minimum of secrecy."

"Yeah, I can see that. Anyway, about a week ago I got flown out a rendezvous with Mr Big on his sub, and got shown this base. Well, the cave I guided you to, anyway. I'd never been inside inside, as it were, until after I'd – well, you know."

"Delivered me up for ritual execution?"

"Believe it or not, that wasn't actually specified, though I suppose you'll say it was pretty stupid of me not to have guessed."

"It was pretty stupid of you not to have guessed."

"Thanks. No, I was just told I had to win your trust and lure you to – well, to here. The details were sort of left to me. I told them the best way was to arrange for you to rescue me, or at least to think you had."

"Think I'd rescued you?"

"Yeah. It was all set up. Sorry."

"But you were pinned under that rock."

"Carefully arranged, and my leg had been bashed about a bit beforehand."

"What about your tank? I'd swear you only had five minutes' of air left."

"Nearer fifteen, actually - the gauge was rigged. And in any case there was a back-up diver just out of sight."

"Really?"

"I'm afraid so. Also, the spy or whoever had supplied us with the scheduled route and time-table for PC-1, and we waited for a day when a decent squall was forecast. The yacht on the surface was real enough, though the crew were no relations of mine."

Marine Boy took a while to digest everything Jack had told him. "Phew," he said at last. "In spite of everything I'm sort of impressed. You certainly had me fooled, and everyone else on Ocean Base as well. Well, everyone except one person, I suppose, but that's a problem for another time. The whole thing was faked from start to finish?"

"Not quite the whole thing," Jack mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

Jack started at the floor. "You see," he began. "I mean, the thing is..."

"Out with it for chrissakes."

"OK. I started out thinking of it as a job. A piece of deception that wasn't that different from persuading people to reward me for returning stuff I'd stolen in the first place. I didn't see that one more crime would make much of a difference."

"Conning people out of money is one thing. Getting them to put their head in a noose is another."

"Yeah, I realise that now. I was so dumb. But that's not what I was driving at."

"No?"

"No. What I'm trying to say – jeez, this is hard – is that I never expected to like you so much. That time we had together, it was such fun. You were such fun. When I said I fell for you, I really fell for you. No lies, no deception, the genuine article. It really cut me up inside to know that it was going to end so badly."

"You didn't act like you were cut up inside."

"I was in denial. I was refusing to face up to the truth – live for today and pretend that tomorrow will never come. I didn't know what else to do."

"You could've tried telling the truth."

"Yeah, but that was a habit I'd grown out of."

"Including now?"

"No. Everything I've just told you is true. Of course, I don't blame me if you don't believe me."

"I think I do, actually."

"Thanks; that means a lot."

"Or perhaps I just want to believe you, because I like you so much."

"Even now?"

"Even now. When I said I fell for you, I really fell for you."

"Touché. But anyway, I couldn't decide what to do, and time passed. I almost backed out a couple of times. Like when you suggested we check out the mystery sub together. In my plan, I was going to be the one who suggested that, and I'd pretty much decided not to. Then you suggested it, and I was carried along again. I knew I was making a terrible mistake, but I couldn't stop. It was like a car-crash. Not that I've ever been in a car crash, but I remember a time when I was about ten years old. I was riding my bike and hit a rock or something. I wobbled for what seemed like ages, knowing that I was going to fall off pretty painfully, and there was nothing I could do about it. And I did. Fall off painfully, I mean. Now, I'm not saying that what I did to you was no worse than falling off a bike or anything like that. I just mean that events seemed to have got out of my control – and before I knew it the deadline was on me and it was too late."

"It's never too late to do the right thing," Marine Boy said.

"Never?"

"Never."

"Well, you'd know – you're the good guy."

"Not really – just the luckier one."

"No," Jack said, thoughtfully. "No, I don't think it works like that. I can't sit back and blame everything on my father and the lawyers, and claim that none of this was my fault. I have to start taking responsibility for my actions. I've been a spoilt brat and a total shit, and I've got to change. Starting now. I don't know what I'm going to do from here on in, but whatever it is, it's going to be honest. Of course, the chances are that we're both going to be dead in a few hours, and no-one will ever know."

"Look on the bright side, why don't you?"

"That's not easy right now."

"Not if you don't try."

"Maybe." Jack sighed. "Anyway I don't suppose it matters if no-one ever knows that I tried to do the right thing at the last moment."

"The most important person already knows."

"You, you mean?"

"No, you. You have to be honest with yourself before you can be honest with other people."

"Deep."

"If you like. But you know you've had a change of heart, and that's what really matters."

"Not so much a change of heart – more the fact that I finally decided to listen to it."

"There's a difference?"

"Yeah, but you need to have behaved like a shit to understand."

"If you say so."

"I do. I woke up pretty much when I'd finished drugging you. There you were in front of me, totally helpless, and it was all my fault. I suddenly saw what a despicable thing I'd done, and I started to try and work out how to put things right. My first thought was to make it back to Ocean Base to spill the beans and guide a rescue party. I'd planned to wait until tonight. I thought you'd be OK until then – that you were simply being held as a hostage and that no actual harm would come to you."

"How wrong you were."

"You can say that again. Anyway, the rest you pretty much know."

"Yes."

"So – what do we do now?"