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pursue a career as a motivational speaker. Hello everyone, odds are most of you will never achieve your dreams, five of you will be killed in motor vehicle accidents by the end of the year, two of you will serve jail time and at least one of you will give birth to a child who has three potential deadbeat fathers, the best of which has just five teeth.
    “It’s ironic,” she says and I wonder if she’s heard my mental ramblings.
    “What is?” I ask.
    “You saving me,” she says.
    “Why’s that ironic?” I can’t imagine an answer to this question that makes any sense. I would have pulled anyone off that ship, even Captain Crazy.
    “Do you know why we were roommates?” she asks.
    “Luck of the draw?”
    “Chase decides who bunks with who,” she says, and a theory starts to form in my mind, but she fills in the blanks before I’ve fully figured it out on my own. “I was spying on you. Watching you. Reading your journal. Your notes.”
    I frown, feeling supremely violated. I’d kept one journal tracking the actions of the Sentinel and a second that was personal. They’re both at the bottom of the ocean now, but there were things on those pages I’ve never told anyone.
    “Sorry,” she says, and at least appears honestly ashamed. Still, there’s no way I’m going to offer an “It’s okay,” because it’s decidedly not okay. “They knew who you are. Who you really are. I’m pretty sure that’s why they let you on the crew.”
    “Thought they could win me over?” I ask.
    “Maybe,” she says with a shrug. “I’m not really sure why they let someone like you on board.”
    Someone like me ? I’ve heard Peach talking about other anti-whaling organizations like the WSPA and Greenpeace, and while she doesn’t think they’re being proactive enough, she respects them. She wouldn’t see me as a threat.
    “And who am I?” I ask. “Really?”
    “They told you me you work for the U.S. government.”
    I let out a guffaw that makes Jenny twitch. Peach looks at me like I’m crazy. “Relax,” I say. “We’ve only been at sea for like an hour. I’m not going to eat you. Yet.”
    My humor doesn’t help. Her stare has intensified. “Look, did you see the WSPA Greenland Whaling Investigation video they released a few months ago? Found all the whale meat in grocery stores? Revealed the whalers in Greenland were making a nice profit?”
    “Yeah,” she says. “They broke the IWC’s rules. It was a solid investigation and part of the reason McAfee decided to come here.”
    Great, I think, this really is all my fault, but I continue with my dramatic reveal. “Remember the redhead with the baseball cap and sunglasses?”
    “She was brilliant, yeah, but—”
    “She’s not a redhead,” I say. “She’s got short black hair and a—”
    “That was you ?” she asks loudly, but doesn’t wait for confirmation. “You’re WSPA?”
    “Going on ten years,” I say.
    I can see she’s confused as hell, but she shakes it off. Despite her hero abandoning us in the Arctic Ocean, she’s still clinging to the idea that McAfee wouldn’t lie to her. “That’s your cover story.”
    “You read my journal,” I say.
    “Skimmed.”
    “Come across the name Michael Stone?”
    She forms a half-word argument, but something clicks in her mind. “You date the director of the WSPA?”
    “Dated.Past tense. He asked me to marry him. I said no. And now I’m in the Arctic Ocean, in a life boat.”
    “That sucks,” she says.
    “I know, right? I should have said yes.”
    “No, I mean that I thought you were some spook or something.”
    “I know,” I say. “Just messing with you. Hey, now that we’re being honest, since we barely have room to lie side by side, can you do me a favor and not turn our lifeboat into a shithole?”
    She laughs again. It’s good to hear someone laugh.
    “I kept the room like that so you wouldn’t see my camera.”
    Now it’s my turn to be surprised. When my jaw drops open,