Eric Brown: The Kraken Rises

“Yes, sir,” Ennis answered, closing the door and taking a seat in front of his desk. “I am sorry to bother you, sir, but…”

“Let me guess,” Captain Weaver said, frowning, “the whole ship already knows about the distress call that’s come in and they’re wondering what we are going to do about it?”

Ennis chuckled. “That’s it exactly, sir.”

Captain Weaver shrugged, still frowning. “There is nothing we can do but respond to it.”

“I sort of figured that, sir,” Ennis admitted.

“Get us on a course to the platform at maximum military speed,” Captain Weaver ordered. “Tell Sergeant Dawson to have his men ready to board the platform. Make sure that Dawson understands that we have no idea what we’ll be heading into.”

“Yes, sir.” Ennis nodded. “Dawson has got a lot of experience in these situations. I am sure he’ll take every precaution.”

“Go ahead and sound action stations as we get underway for the platform,” Weaver added. “I don’t think we’ll run into anything this ship can’t handle, but it’s always better to be prepared than not.”

“Agreed,” Ennis said. “I still haven’t been able to get any current satellite photos of the platform. A storm rolled into the area not long after we received the distress call from it. The cloud cover is playing havoc with—”

“Doesn’t matter.” Captain Weaver waved a dismissive hand at his XO. “We’re going in one way or another. It’s our job, Ennis.”

“The storm is likely to mess with our own comm. systems too, sir,” Ennis protested in spite of what he had said.

Captain Weaver ignored him, opening the drawer of his desk to produce a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. He poured both glasses full and offered one to Ennis.

“Have you had time to read over the information I was able to dig up about the platform and its purpose, sir?” Ennis asked as he took the glass Captain Weaver handed him.

Captain Weaver nodded. “Everything points to it just being another research facility and a legit one at that.”

Ennis downed his glass in a single swallow and shook his head. “Strong stuff.”

“The best a captain’s salary can buy anyway.” Captain Weaver grinned and slammed the contents of his own glass down his throat.

“You’re right about Platform Alpha One being legit, sir,” Ennis said, settling back to business. “That’s a good thing. At first, I thought it might be a cover for something more not so on the up and up.”

“Bioweapons.” Captain Weaver nodded. “I thought about that too. Thank God it honestly doesn’t appear to be a home to anything like that.”

“Which really begs the question…” Ennis went on.

“Of who would attack it,” Captain Weaver finished for him and sat his empty glass on his desk beside the bottle of vodka. “I guess we’ll be finding out soon enough.”

Specialist Warren Hawks checked the magazine one final time before slamming it home in his rifle. His expression was grim as he looked over at Larson. Larson was grinning like a feral cat that had just discovered a rat trapped in the room with it.

“Don’t look so bent out of shape, Hawks,” Larson said, smirking. “I thought this trip was going to be boring as Hades. Now at least we’re going to get see some action.”

The two of them were the senior members of the small rescue-and-boarding party that was going to be heading over to the platform the distress call had come in from when the Braxton reached it. They were still over an hour out, but Larson was already ready to go. Being cooped up on the ship hadn’t been kind to Larson. He was fresh out of the Sand Box and his “strings were vibrating.”

Hawks set his rifle aside and lit up a cigarette. He inhaled, long and deep, before letting the smoke flow slowly out of his lungs then answered, “Larson, take a look around you, buddy. These kids ain’t ready for the type of action you’re itching for.”

Larson snorted. “They have to learn someday and today’s as good a day as any.”

“You need to relax, man,” Hawks told him. “We’ve got no idea what we’re heading into.”

Hawks’ statement seemed contradictory it was but a truth he knew from experience that keeping a level head in the field was the best thing one could do if they wanted to stay alive.

Robbie, one of the new squad members, approached them. He saluted Larson. “Sir!”

“At ease.” Larson nodded.

“Thank you, sir.” Robbie smiled. “I was wondering if I could join you?”

“It’s a free country.” Larson shrugged.

“Actually, we’re not in a country at all,” Hawks corrected him. “These are international waters.”

Larson glared at him. “Always got to be smart, don’t ya?”

Hawks flashed a wry grin as Robbie took a seat on a crate near the ones they sat on.

“This your first op, kid?” Larson asked.

“Yes, sir,” Robbie replied, nodding nervously.

“Drop the sir crap,” Larson told Robbie. “We’re off the clock right now.”

Robbie shifted uncomfortably on the crate he had taken a seat on. “Do you really think it was terrorists that hit the platform, uh, Mr. Larson?”

Hawks nearly doubled over laughing. “Just call him Larson, kid. That’s his name.”

Robbie’s cheeks flushed red, but he kept his eyes fixed on Larson, waiting for an answer.

“How in the devil would I know?” Larson growled. “Do I look psychic to you?”

“I just thought…” Robbie started.

“Having seen some action and earning some rank doesn’t make you all-knowing, kid,” Hawks chimed in. “We don’t know anything more than you guys do.”

Robbie was clearly disappointed by his answer.

“We’ll be finding out what we’re up against soon enough,” Hawks said.

“And we’ll be ready for it too,” Larson added. “Oorah!”

“Aren’t you going to inspect our gear?” Robbie asked.

“Great,” Larson shook his head, “first, this kid thinks I’m psychic, and now, he thinks I’m his babysitter.”

“Don’t let Larson get to you,” Hawks told Robbie. “He’s in a mood today. Just bring along anything you think you’ll need that won’t slow you down and don’t skimp on the ammo. If things go all pear-shaped and we get stuck on that platform, you’ll be grateful to have it. Pass that on to the others too.”

“Will do,” Robbie said, getting to his feet. He headed over to join the other three green members of the squad.

Hawks watched the kid go. “Think you were a bit rough on him?”

“Me? Never,” Larson chuckled. “Whoever hit that platform though, they’re likely to tear him a new one when we get there.”

Captain Weaver sat in his command chair on the bridge of the USS Braxton . He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair as the battleship sped over the waves in route to the Platform Alpha One facility.

“Sir, we’re coming up on the platform now,” Watkins, the helmsman, informed him.

Ennis, the ship’s XO, stood beside Weaver’s command chair, frowning.

“We’ve got visual contact, Captain,” the sonar/comm tech on duty, Lancaster, reported.

“Put it on screen,” Weaver ordered.

An image of the platform filled the tactical display.

“What in the devil are those things?” Ennis muttered, losing his professional composure as the image appeared.

The deck and sides of the platform were alive with creatures that moved and slithered about over them. There were hundreds of the creatures. Each was close to the size of a man or slightly larger. The whole scene was something like out of a deranged nightmare.

“Are those squids?” Watkins asked.