Nicholas Smith - Wolves

The third day of the sky pelting rain was when Xavier Rodriguez felt the first tingle of annoyance. Over the years, he had become a very patient man. Trekking across the radioactive wastes for the better part of a decade allowed him to claim patience as a virtue. But by the fifth and sixth day of rain, his patience was nearing its end.

He hated being cooped up in a boat, and the new storm brewing overhead wasn’t helping his mood any. Sitting around gave him plenty of time to think. There were still moments of deep anger and resentment when he reflected on those ten long and perilous years on the surface. For hours at a time on the journey, he found himself either lost in his thoughts or jerking away from the nightmare images.

Lightning webbed across the horizon—a welcome distraction from the memories. Each rumble of thunder shook the Sea Wolf with a gentle vibration.

X sat in the control room, eyeing his enameled mug on the dashboard. The precious contents sloshed inside, blending the tea spiked with good old shine from the Hive. Miles, his trusty Siberian husky hybrid, sat on the floor, muzzle on his paws, crystal-blue eyes glancing up every few minutes.

The twin hulls flanking the command center groaned as the two turbo engines pushed the craft through the heaving seas that slapped the port side. X flipped a switch on the dashboard, and the high beams lanced through the inky darkness, illuminating waves like snowcapped mountains as far as he could see.

The reinforced fiberglass-and-metal frame suddenly didn’t seem all that sturdy. He considered taking the boat off autopilot but didn’t want to risk veering off course. So he tried to relax in his leather seat and put his trust in Timothy Pepper, the AI program guiding the Sea Wolf.

A glance at the on-screen map showed they were still sailing east of an island once known as Cuba. They had already passed through the dark Bahamas, with no sign of the Metal Islands or the Cazador ships.

He checked the circular navigation monitor on the control panel to look for landmasses, other vessels, or mutant creatures that he assumed lived in the cold, dark waters.

A green light blinked, revealing no contacts. The view through the windshield revealed nothing but open water as far as he could see.

While he wasn’t at all opposed to having an uneventful first leg of their maiden voyage, he was starting to get bored. He twisted in his chair at the screech of the hatch opening. Magnolia Katib stood in the entryway, a hand on her pale forehead.

“How you feelin’, kid?” X asked.

“How’s it look?”

She lurched over to the other chair. Slumping against the cushioned leather, she let out a groan. “I think I prefer diving to sailing.”

To conserve energy, X flipped the lights off on the dashboard. The dark waves stretched into dark infinity, making it difficult to see where the ocean ended and the sky began. If not for the sporadic flashes of lightning, it would have felt as if they were sailing through the void of space.

“I always wanted to see the ocean,” Magnolia said, “but this really sucks. I’ve puked four times this morning.”

X gave her a quick glance. Her short-cropped hair, dyed blue, hung over her sapphire-blue eyes. It used to give X the creeps, but he had warmed to her style.

“Better drink some water to stay hydrated,” he said. They had a good supply of water and a recycler unit to help it last, but at this rate, she would need more than her daily ration.

“Yeah, yeah.” She turned her attention back to the dashboard, tapping the fuel-gauge monitor with a purple fingernail. “Is this right?”

“What?” X leaned over to double-check.

“Looks like battery two is losing power,” she said. “Why didn’t Timothy warn us?”

“Pepper?” X said. “He was annoying me, so I shut him off.”

Frowning, Magnolia swiveled her seat to another section of the control panel and hit a button.

The AI’s voice broke over the speakers.

“Good afternoon, Miss Katib and Mr. Xavier.”

“‘X.’ I told you to call me ‘X.’”

“My apologies, sir.”

“Just ‘ X ’!” he said in a voice just shy of a shout.

Magnolia smirked, giving X a cockeyed glance. “He’s really getting on your nerves, isn’t he?”

“I’m not used to robots.”

“Timothy, what’s the deal with the battery power?” Magnolia asked, returning her attention to the monitor.

“The boat, as you may know, is equipped with two batteries that charge the twin turbo engines,” Timothy said.

X groaned. “Cut to the chase, pal.”

After a pause, Timothy continued. “Battery two has malfunctioned, although I’m not certain of the cause. It may require a manual assessment, as it could be something as simple as a faulty sensor.”

X checked the gauge for battery two. Sure enough, Mags and the AI were right: it was down to 25 percent. But how the hell could that happen, and how had he missed it? Both batteries were lithium-ion, and Chief Engineer Samson had said they were two of the best ever recovered from the surface.

“ Shit ,” X said. His tone drew the attention of Miles, who glanced up from his paws and then went back to sleep after letting out an exasperated sigh. X could empathize. Despite having spent most of the journey in this chair or his bunk, he was exhausted.

Boredom had a way of creating fatigue, leading to mistakes, and even in these churning seas, X was bored as hell. He wasn’t used to being cooped up in a small vessel, and part of him missed the freedom of roaming the wastes—although he didn’t miss the Hive one bit.

“I’m going topside,” he said, unbuckling his harness.

Magnolia’s eyebrow went up. “You serious?” Her eyes flitted back to the windshield. “In this downpour? Can’t this wait?”

“No,” he said firmly. Truth be told, X wasn’t overly worried about the lithium-ion batteries—he just needed some space and air. He was used to being on his own, and as much as he appreciated Magnolia wanting to join him on this adventure, he missed his solitude, and the AI was getting under his skin.

X moved over to check the readout on the main monitor, looking closely for radiation and any trace of mercury in the rain. Both were in the yellow zone, and he decided he would suit up on the second deck above them.

“Stay here, boy,” he said to Miles.

The dog let out a whine and sat on his hind legs, watching as X prepared to leave the room.

“Be careful,” Magnolia said, wrapping a strand of blue hair behind her ear.

“Shall I assist you, X?” Timothy asked.

“Nope. You just keep us from capsizing, okay, mate?”

Timothy’s hologram flickered and then smiled. “‘Mate’—that’s a new term to me, and I’m pleased to find in my database that it means ‘friend.’”

X shook his head as he stepped out into the narrow hallway belowdecks. He didn’t trust the AI—or any other robot with a conscience. If Katrina hadn’t insisted, he would never have allowed the program on board. But he couldn’t deny that Pepper was useful, especially when it came to guiding the Sea Wolf through rough weather.