The Last Murder at the end of the World

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It’s a little past two in the morning when Thea pushes her boat away from the jetty beneath the lighthouse, every inch of space filled with food. Now that Blackheath is open again, the jetty is almost as easy to reach as the village, which is handy because she doesn’t want to risk running into Hephaestus.

She rows steadily across the dark water, the moon and stars reflected upon its surface. Her ragged palms are aching, but she’s ignoring the pain, focusing on the resonance suit folded across the seat at the back of the boat.

It was waiting in her lab, exactly where she left it forty years ago. This has to be how Seth and his wife got off the island. Thea briefly wondered if Niema had an air-skipper hidden somewhere, or had managed to build a secret tunnel under the water, but neither seemed plausible. They never had the resources for jobs like that.

Closing on world’s end, she finds the sea thick with dead birds, fish, seals, dolphins and turtles. The stink is already unbearable.

Nudging the boat through the carrion, she risks a look over her shoulder at the fog. The insects are glowing brightly, floating around inside like neurons firing in a brain. For a moment, she watches them transfixed. It’s strange that something this awful should be so beautiful.

‘Please don’t do this,’ I say, for the fourteenth time since this reckless, desperate idea first invaded her thoughts.

‘I killed Niema,’ she says simply. ‘That was my fingernail buried in her cheek, and her blood was on my clothes.’ She tightens her grip on the oars, her knuckles turning white. ‘Everything I ever wanted was in Blackheath, and she kept it from me. She imprisoned me on this island against my will, unable to reach my sister. Emory’s right. I found out, and I caved her skull in. I know I did.’

Coming within touching distance of the fog, she tosses the anchor overboard and pulls the resonance suit over her clothes. It covers her body from head to toe, and has a perspex screen to see through.

‘This is suicide,’ I say. ‘There has to be another way.’

‘The other way was silencing Hui before she could tell Hephaestus that I murdered his mother, but that failed. He’s going to find out what I’ve done and he’s going to kill me,’ she replies, terrified.

‘He cares for you.’

‘He won’t even see me. You know what his rages are like. He’ll beat me to death the way he did that vulture.’

Going to the bow, she leans over the top of it, her fingers only inches from the deadly fog. The glowing insects press against the edge, mimicking the shape of her splayed hand.

There’s a small black display on the wrist of the suit and she wakes it up with a tap. Symbols appear as diagnostics are run, testing its integrity and systems.

‘The future is being written right now,’ I say. ‘Everything matters, every life. If you die here, there’s nobody left to monitor the pods that grow the villagers. You’ll be damning them to extinction.’

‘I don’t care. I never have.’

‘What about Ellie?’

‘She’ll be safe in Blackheath. Once the fog hits the island, Hephaestus will have no choice but to take shelter in the cauldron garden. I’ll be able to come and go as I please.’

‘Please, Thea –’

‘We don’t need to talk any more, Abi. I’m finally getting off this island. If the cost of that was Niema’s life, it was a bargain.’

It takes thirty seconds for the suit to finish its checks. There’s a crackle, the material stiffening ever so slightly. The glowing insects that were mimicking her hand flicker, then go out completely, drifting down into the water.

‘It’s working,’ says Thea triumphantly.

A tremor of excitement runs through her; the thrill of a battle won before it’s even begun.

Scrambling to the back of the boat, she heaves the anchor back inside, then picks up the oars and pushes forward.

The bow enters the fog, then the first seat. Finally, she passes across the threshold, staring around in wonder.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she gasps.

From within, the fog is a golden, shimmering solar system. Electricity crackles between the insects, which are swirling around her, kept away by the field being emitted by the suit.

‘It’s working,’ she screams, stamping her feet in joy. ‘It’s working.’

The control panel shudders on her wrist, alerting her to a fault. Power is draining much more quickly than it should.

The luminosity of the insects starts to increase.

‘You have to go back,’ I say.

‘I can fix it,’ she replies, stubbornly tapping at the screen, trying to locate the problem.

The suit vibrates its concern.

Glancing up from the panel, she notices that the insects have coalesced into a great ribbon of yellow flame, which is lashing towards her.

‘Turn around, Thea,’ I say urgently.

She picks up the oars, as the insects start drumming against the suit, sizzling against its resonance field, only to be replaced by thousands more.

Lights flash red on the control panel.

‘Hurry,’ I say. ‘Once the field collapses, there’s only a layer of material between you and the swarm.’

She can’t hear me any more.

The insects cover her so densely, that their fierce light is blinding even with her eyes shut.

She’s hyperventilating, swiping futilely at her attackers as the suit alarms whine.

Any second now, the field will fail and she’ll be torn apart.

As she stumbles back in panic, her head hits the edge of the seat with a sickening thud, knocking her unconscious as the suit whines around her.