“They can’t get in!” Dr. Beck snapped, flinging the radio gear away from him and standing up.
“Those things are smart, Doc,” Stern reminded him. “Given enough time, they’ll find a way in. You can count on that. Even if they don’t… The Rigel is sinking.”
“What?” Dr. Beck’s eyes bugged. “How can you know that?”
“I can feel it, Doc,” Stern told him. “Can’t you?”
The two men stared at each other in silence as the moans of the wounded around them filled the void left by their words.
Finally, Stern spoke up again. “Look, Doc, we’re dead men. The only thing left we’ve got to decide is how we’re going to go out.”
“What do you mean?” Dr. Beck croaked.
“I mean, I know how to set those engines to blow,” Stern told him.
“You can’t be serious,” Dr. Beck spat. “That’s insane!”
“Is it, Doc?” Stern growled. “If we blow this ship, think about how many of those monsters we take with us. It might just be enough to make a difference for another ship still fighting out there.”
“I won’t allow it.” Dr. Beck stepped between Stern and the engine controls. Dr. Beck pointed at the wounded men and women around them. “These people are under my care. I won’t let you kill them out of some warped need to get vengeance on those things out there.”
“That’s too bad, Doc,” Stern said. “I sort of liked you.”
“What do you mean by that?” Dr. Beck asked as Stern lifted his rifle and squeezed its trigger.
Dr. Beck stumbled backwards as the bullet Stern fired slammed into him, turning his chest into a jagged mess of ruptured flesh.
Stern stepped over Beck’s body as he moved towards the main controls. He quickly set them to overload the engine and took a seat to wait for death to come calling.
The USS Braxton raced over the waves, her engines at full military power. The Hercules followed her. The two ships were the only survivors of DESRON 2. The DESRON’s flagship, the Mitchell, along with the Bonime,had been destroyed by the great Kraken and its lesser spawn. The Rigel, boarded and overrun by the spawn, had been left behind. That fact haunted Captain Nicholson. He understood why Captain Weaver was forced to leave the Rigel to the squids, but doing so didn’t make it any easier. He wished there had been something, anything, that they could have done to help those trapped aboard her.
His XO, Grant, must have noticed his scowling expression because he walked over and said, “There was nothing anyone could do.”
“I know,” Captain Nicholson replied.
“Frankly, sir, your taking Captain Weaver at his word when the Braxton arrived is all that saved our lives.”
Captain Nicholson feigned a smile. “It’s not over yet.”
Turning to his sonar tech, Keogh, Nicholson asked, “Do you have a reading on the Kraken?”
Captain Nicholson hated calling the giant monster that. He was a practical sort of man with a great deal of combat experience under his belt. To think that he was now up against something straight out of myth bothered him to no end. Such monsters shouldn’t exist in the real world. There was enough evil to go around already.
“No, sir,” Keogh said, shaking his head. “I haven’t been able to pick it up at all since it took the Bonime under.”
“Keep trying,” Captain Nicholson ordered. “We can’t afford to have it sneak up on us.”
“Yes, sir,” Keogh answered. “I can tell you the small creatures are still after us. How they are keeping up, I don’t know, but they are.”
“Understood,” Captain Nicholson ordered.
“Shouldn’t we be firing on them, sir?” Grant asked him.
“Maybe.” Captain Nicholson shrugged. “But Captain Weaver isn’t and hasn’t ordered us to do so. Their numbers seem limitless, and we have seen with our own eyes just how little any losses we inflict on them appear to mean. The things are relentless. Besides, the ordnance we have aboard ship isn’t as limitless as those things seem to be. If we run into the Kraken again, we’ll need everything we have for it and likely then some.”
“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it, sir?” Grant asked.
Captain Nicholson looked over at him. “What’s that, Grant?”
“That a bloody squid, no matter how big it may be, just trashed an entire, modern DESRON,” Grant told him. “I read a lot of stories as a kid about monsters like it, but they were all set in the old days when sailors depended upon the wind and stars and their boats were made of wood.”
Captain Nicholson didn’t know how to respond, so he changed the subject. “Are the decks still clear?”
Grant nodded. “Major Larka and his men were able to clear them during the attack on the DESRON before we followed the Braxton out of the kill zone. So far, none of the lesser squids have attempted to engage us again.”
Captain Nicholson scratched at the stubble on his chin. He looked out the bridge’s forward window at the setting sun on the horizon. The day had been nightmarishly long. He was exhausted, but there was no time for sleep until he knew his ship and crew were safe. The weather was clear, and he could already see traces of the night stars among the dying rays of the sun. He wondered if the monsters out there chasing after them felt tired too. If the creatures did, there was no sign of it.
“Peart,” Captain Nicholson called to his comm. officer, “are the long-range comms still offline?”
Peart jerked up in his seat at the comm. station. “Yes, sir. I’ve run every diagnostic I can think of, Captain, and they all suggest our system is fine. Something out there is jamming us. That’s my best guess at least.”
“Any ideas on who or what might be doing it?” Captain Nicholson asked.
Peart shook his head.
“Captain,” Grant spoke up. “Our comm. problems started when the squids arrived. What if they’re behind the interference?”
“That would make sense, Grant, but how?” Captain Nicholson said.
“I’m not a scientist, sir,” Peart said, “but what if the squids are emitting some sort of signal among themselves to communicate with each other and the Kraken? That signal coming from something the size of the Kraken might be enough to overpower our own and shut it down.”
Captain Nicholson frowned. “I hate to say it, but that makes sense. Peart, touch base with Captain Weaver’s comm. officer and let them know about your theory.”
Peart nodded. “Right away, sir.”
Turning back to Grant, Nicholson continued to frown. “Until we get the mess with the comm. sorted, it looks like we’re on our own.”
“We’ve been in tough spots before, sir,” Grant said, trying to sound reassuring but failing terribly.
“Captain!” Keogh yelled at him. “I’ve picked up the Kraken, sir!”
“Where?” Captain Nicholson snapped.
“It’s coming in from behind us, sir, closing at forty knots.” Keogh had gone pale as he made his report.
“Someone has to survive this,” Captain Nicholson muttered quietly.
Grant must have heard him because he met his eyes and gave a nod as if he knew what Nicholson was thinking.
“Time to intercept?” Captain Nicholson barked.
“Four minutes at the thing’s current speed, sir,” Keogh informed him.
“Our engines are already right at the redline,” Grant said. “We can’t force anymore out of them without running the risk of overloading them and having them burn out.”
“Mr. Malkin, bring us about,” Captain Nicholson ordered his helmsman.
“Sir?” Malkin asked in disbelief and shock.