Eric Brown - The Kraken Rises

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.

“You heard me, Mr. Malkin,” Captain Nicholson growled. “Peart, contact Captain Weaver and let him know that we’ll be buying him some time.”

Fear hung over the crew of the Hercules like the building charge of energy in a summer sky before lightning flashed through it. Captain Nicholson knew none of his crew would challenge him on what he was about to do. They were all professionals and were well aware of their duty.

“Captain Weaver for you, sir,” Peart said.

“Put him on,” Captain Nicholson said.

“Weaver, what in the devil do you think you’re doing?” Captain Weaver’s voice boomed over the bridge’s speakers.

“You know exactly what I am doing,” Captain Nicholson answered calmly.

“Turn the Hercules around right now, Nicholson. There is no need for this,” Captain Weaver roared.

“You’re wrong, Weaver,” Captain Nicholson told him. “Someone has to survive all this.”

“We have a better chance of that together,” Captain Weaver argued.

Captain Nicholson shook his head though he knew Captain Weaver couldn’t see him. The transmission was audio only. “I don’t see it that way.” Captain Nicholson leaned forward in his command chair. “That thing out there just ripped its way through DESRON 2 like it was nothing. Tell me, Weaver, do you really think that our two ships can handle it alone?”

Silence hung over the bridge of the Hercules as Captain Nicholson waited on Captain Weaver’s answer. Captain Weaver dodged the question though.

“I am ordering you to turn the Hercules around, Nicholson. I need you with us,” Captain Weaver growled.

“What you need is time to get the hell out of here and I am going to get it for you,” Captain Nicholson replied and then signaled for Keogh to kill the transmission.

“That went better than it could have,” Grant chuckled. “At least he didn’t threaten to have us all court-martialed.”

Captain Nicholson didn’t point out that it was because Captain Weaver was already writing them off as dead and the ship lost.

“So we’re really doing this then?” Grant asked.

Laughing darkly, Captain Nicholson smiled and got down to business.

“Time to intercept?” he asked Keogh.

“Two minutes, sir,” Keogh seemed to have grown even paler.

“Mr. Grant, assume control of the weapons station please,” Captain Nicholson ordered. He had known Grant for a long, long time, and the XO was the best gunner he had ever met.

“Yes, sir,” Grant said, relieving the on-duty officer to slide into the chair at the weapons station.