Prologue:
March 8, 1945
The submarine USS Humpback powered its way through heavy wave after heavy wave as it moved through the dark Pacific waters. Raincoat-clad watch crew scoped out the surface with binoculars, trying to spot potential targets or enemies in the black, wet night. The crewmen in the submarine's cramped interior either carried their duties that kept the vessel running, or attempted to sleep through the bouncing and rolling that plagued any ship on the surface in weather this poor. The Humpback was out to do what American submarines had been doing for the past three years. It would attack the shipping lines that kept the resource-poor island of Japan afloat. Submarines like the Humpback had sunk millions of tons of merchant shipping, strangled Japan's economy, and prevented it from adequately reinforcing and resupplying its forces scattered on islands across the sea.
It was a very risky and often frustrating mission. Surface ships were rarely lost with all hands, while survivors of a submarine sinking were almost as uncommon. Submariners in battle would have to endure the horrific sensation of depth charges exploding close to their boat for hours on end. Worse, if you somehow managed to survive your boat's sinking, you had no friendly ships around to rescue you-only the notorious Japanese POW camps. The frustrating part was how many submarines were coming back from patrols without sinking anything but small fishing boats. This wasn't due to any flaws in the submarines performance, but simply because Japan had very few merchants left to sink.
Commander Robert L. Clarkson and the eighty men under him knew the risks, and knew the possibility of having to live for weeks inside a tight, stuffy boat with no enemy sinkings to show for it. They were navy men, and they carried out their orders. But they would soon find themselves in a situation that their orders did not cover…..
The submarine's crew was only briefly aware of what they entered into. The radar operators reported a large contact on the surface ahead of them, and the watch crew saw a bright object in the distance. Was it a ship? No, not unless ships had really big searchlights. And the object was getting closer. Clarkson ordered a sharp turn to avoid it, but it was too late.
The Humpback's crew was briefly blinded as they passed straight through the object. They had expected to feel a crash as the submarine slammed into it, but instead they just-slipped through as if nothing was there. Astonished at the fact that they were still alive and their ship still afloat, Clarkson and the rest of the deck crew surveyed their surroundings.
It was no longer dark and the seas were no longer rough. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the water gleamed with sunlight. The submarine's captain was still wondering what had just happened, when a crewman who had been looking through binoculars shouted "What the hell is that fish?"
Clarkson took a look at the fish that his watchman had seen. It was shaped unlike any other sea creature that he had seen or heard about. It had a grey-colored shell that reminded the skipper of a turtle, yet the rest of its body was nothing like that species. It had blue skin with the exception of a tan neck, and a long neck and head that resembled a giraffe more than any other animal. And it was-big, certainly bigger than any fish Clarkson had seen in person. The sea creature didn't seem to notice the submarine as it continued on its merry way.
"Where are we?"
"It ain't the Pacific, that's for sure."