Chapter 5
Harper was overwhelmed with a wave of déjà vu as she watched the angry Atlantic beat itself against the periphery of Boston Harbor.
It felt familiar, and the ice in the air was a mixture of anxiety and home.
A representative from Okeanos was supposed to meet her for the ferry to Bell Island.
Harper had all this scribbled in a Moleskine.
She’d learned a long time ago that relying on technology for her notes was a losing battle.
Lost signals, lack of service, phones dropped in canals, all these things and more could happen.
A water taxi from Logan Airport was emptying itself of tourists with bulky bags and flushed faces.
The waves whipped and fought the tiny boat.
Just the thought of the overheated cabin made Harper glad she’d taken the train.
The tourists made their way past her in a flock of confusion.
As the space cleared, she spotted a sign held above the small crowd that read: BSI Harper Hafdóttir. The bearer of the sign was a small man with lean, ropey muscles in his neck and arms.
“Harper?” he asked with a slight Caribbean accent.
Harper nodded.
“Good! It’s freezing out here, ready to go? I’m Akiel, come with me.”
She followed Akiel through the crowd away from the ferries that were heading to Georges and Thompson, and even farther from the boat about to depart to Salem and northward.
“Bell Island has its own ferry system, apart from the public ferries. It’s all Port Authority, of course, but Bell Island is not open to the public, we’re special.” Akiel turned and flashed a grin full of bright white teeth.
“I thought there were two ferries a day to Bell?” Harper asked.
“There are. You need a resident’s card to board, though, and when the weather hits, the ferry goes down to a single morning run or even by demand only.
” Akiel held a door open that led to a long hallway.
“You’ll find that most of the Bell Island residents aren’t in the habit of leaving.
The ferry is primarily for supplies.” He indicated a metal door at the end of the hall.
“They said all the equipment would be available already, and any replacements or additions needed could be sent on easily enough. Not to mention we’re supposed to be sending water and soil samples back to the Okeanos labs weekly if not daily.
Right? That won’t be a problem, will it?
” Harper shivered despite her heavy coat and boots.
“It won’t. BSI is paying good money to secure a bit of ferry space for this project. You will have all you need, weather permitting.” Akiel gestured to a smallish ferry with benches on the open top deck and a covered mid-deck with wide windows. “Here we are.”
“Are you coming too?” Harper asked. “Or are you land based?”
“This is where I leave you. We’ve actually met before, you probably don’t remember.
I was a lab tech before I joined the Thalassa Project.
We’re all excited that you’re here; your work on the Icelandic orca and pilot whale interaction is outstanding.
Part of me does wish I was going to Bell, but I am your contact here on land.
Here.” He handed her a business card with multiple phone numbers.
“Call or text. There is Wi-Fi on Bell; it can be a bit spotty, but you have landline service and there’s always the radio in case of a storm.
I or one of my team will respond immediately.
” He paused. “How much did they tell you about the island?”
Harper set her duffel down, staring past Akiel’s shoulder as men in thermal suits loaded crates onto the mid-deck of the boat.
“Let’s see. I know it’s haunted, I know there’s a séance room in the manor house, I know that the locals pushed the female boat skipper off the dock fifteen years ago, breaking her ankle, and I know that the villagers aren’t happy about this project.
” Harper found herself wishing her Swiss cheese memory would become whole, surely she knew more about Bell?
Akiel laughed, but there was an edge of wariness in the sound. “I cannot refute any of those things, except the part about ghosts and the séance room. I have never had the pleasure of visiting the manor. You might, though, you are the Team Lead. Lady Bell might want an audience.”
“An audience? You talk about her like she’s royalty.” It was Harper’s turn for a wary tone.
“Royal? No. But there is a reverence for her and the institution on the island that is a bit … what is the word … quaint. She’s officially the mayor according to the Suffolk County records, but I doubt there’s an election.
Lady Loreana Bell has always been the mayor, her mother before that, and before that.
It’s good to remember that the locals do not want to hear any criticism of their leader.
That was where the incident fifteen years ago with the skipper came to a head, according to those who know things. ”
“I heard the sailors took offense to a female skipper,” Harper said, as a crane lifted a pallet full of wooden boxes onto the ferry deck.
“I wasn’t there, but I do think that you’ll find that is not an accurate account.
You’ll see what I mean when you get there.
” Akiel glanced behind him. “You best board, looks like they’re nearly done.
I expect you’re the only passenger today.
Here.” He handed her an envelope with a laminated ID card toting her BSI ID photo.
“Your temporary residence card. This will get you on and off the Bell Island ferry during your stay. Any problems, just contact me.”
“Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about.” Harper picked up her bag and extended her hand.
Akiel shook it; his strong, dry hands were not those of a lab scientist, more like a field researcher.
“I don’t mean to scare. I spent three weeks there last summer studying the terns nesting colony.
You’ll find the villagers want to keep to themselves, but they’re not a mean lot.
Do NOT try the homebrew liquor at the pub, trust me on that.
” Akiel grinned and waved at the crew on deck.
“Good luck, Harper. I hope you find Thalassic calide, we are all looking forward to meeting your octopus. It’s once in a life perhaps, not even that, that you discover a creature that has remained hidden for an eternity. ”
With that, Harper handed her duffel to the crew and climbed aboard.
The mid-deck was mostly storage, but there was a seating area with big windows where the waves crashed onto the plexiglass.
A small lavatory and a counter that had a Keurig with a sticky note on it that read “help yourself” were the only creature comforts aboard.
Despite its austerity, it wasn’t unpleasant.
Harper made a cup of terrible coffee while the ferry pulled out of the harbor.
She could see how on a sunny day it would be lovely to sit on deck and watch the city disappear.
Today, though, the waves were high, crashing into the windows, threatening to immerse the view entirely.
She did not like the story about the skipper with the broken ankle no matter what spin it might have.
It sounded like there was foul play no matter the whys.
And she did not like that Akiel had not refuted the standoffish nature of the villagers.
She also didn’t like that they were called “villagers” in every communication about the project.
It made it all sound like she was climbing a bean stalk or descending into an ancient well.
Harper did have to admit that she was intrigued by the Lady Loreana Bell.
Carli had touted a thousand factoids about the legacy of Bell Island in the past week, most of them do to with Bell Manor and the family who had occupied it since the island’s dawn.
From what she could tell, “family” was pushing it.
It seemed to Harper that it was the Lady herself and a single daughter all the way back to the beginning of time.
Carli had laughed at this. “Of course there’s others, there has to be really …
I mean, the idea that the house has been passed down …
But the father and husbands aren’t the interesting ones on Bell Island, never have been from what I’ve read.
” Carli had gone on to rattle off the amazing accomplishments of various Lady Loreana Bells—ranging from the island’s role in the 1850s Abolitionist Movement to Civil Rights in the 1960s.
According to Carli, a group of Black Panther activists had escaped to Bell Island after being threatened with arrest for a sit-in at Roxbury.
The remote nature of the island, and the isolation was, according to Carli, a testament to the ferocity of their leader.
The water whipped against the window. Harper was overthinking it.
She was great at overthinking. She was there to work.
Someone from the research team was supposed to meet the ferry, and she would go immediately to their housing and begin her lab work in the morning.
Her team had already arrived. Harper had asked why she was last—Team Lead was usually the first on the scene, the one to be doing the welcoming.
The Okeanos representative had been dismissively vague except to say that the selection had been very stringent and made in conjunction with the Bell Island community.
No matter. She was probably replacing a Lead who had dropped out before they could finish, or even got started.
It was best not to overthink these things.
The farther out to sea they were, Harper realized that she couldn’t see any land at all.
The mainland had disappeared entirely. People went to Bell Island to escape.
Harper could feel her past being left behind as the ferry navigated the water.
She felt her anxiety being replaced with a different, unnamable sensation as they sailed into the mists.