A/N: This story was written for the "Giant Squid" challenge pic at Seaview Stories. As soon as I saw the epic artwork, I knew it needed an epic tale. Hope I delivered. Lynn : )
A third season story…
Giants from the Deep
by Lynn
Prologue
The bright orange rubber life raft was tossed mercilessly by the giant waves of the tumultuous sea, while the sky darkened by the storm, refused to yield any light from her heavenly bodies.
"Where are they?!" Stanton, a frantic occupant of the life raft, and one of only two survivors of the doomed ship, screamed in panic-filled terror.
"They're on their way!" Taylor yelled over the roar of the angry sea, holding a finger to one ear with the radio pressed to the other.
"It's coming!" Stanton cried desperately, a burly sailor who had work all his adult life on freighters and was quite unaccustomed to the absolute horror he was now experiencing.
"We're going to make it… see? Over there, that light," Taylor pointed toward the small beacon of light piercing through the otherwise dark sky.
"They can't see us! Its pitch black out here," Stanton countered, trying desperately to regain control over his fear, but losing the battle to the dread that loomed over them with each passing moment.
"The emergency beacon is working, they're headed straight for us," Taylor assured, his own terror tamped down only a notch below his shipmate's.
The two men watched the rescue helicopter approach, its search light scanning the ocean below as it approached the raft.
"You're on a direct intercept approach; keep coming," Taylor urged into the emergency handheld radio as the young officer guided the helicopter to their position. Stanton leaned over the raft, observing the new ripples surrounding the small raft.
"Oh God, no! It's here!" Stanton yelled, frantically searching for the safest place to bail out of the raft and take his chances in the sea.
Taylor placed a steadying hand on his shipmate's shoulder, imploring him to listen to reason. "There's nowhere to go, you saw what it did to the ship. Our only hope is the chopper."
Stanton shook in terror, nodding woodenly while studying the helicopter's approach, even as the raft bobbed ominously from the movement directly below. Suddenly, the raft lobbed in one direction and then another announcing their inevitable doom, just as the chopper's spotlight found the small craft.
"What the hell?" they heard over the radio. "It's massive, Captain! There's no way we can stay out of reach of those tentacles…"
"Don't leave us! Please, don't leave us," Taylor pleaded reaching the point of desperation at the thought of their likely demise should the chopper leave them to the monster below.
"Wait," the pilot said, "Look! It's leaving."
"Captain, it's still too close," a terrified crewmember argued as the faint shadow of long menacing tentacles lurched just below the water line, yet visible under the raft.
"No, it's the light. It doesn't like the light," the helicopter captain reasoned. "I'll keep the raft in the spotlight. No rescue diver," he ordered over his shoulder, bypassing the standard procedure for the rescue operation. "We're going to drop the harness, but be ready to ditch the line if that thing shows back up; we can't afford to have it pull us into the sea with it. Ready to lower harness?" he added.
"Yes sir, harness ready to deploy."
"Let's do this before that thing decides the light isn't so bad," the captain warned. "Life boat, this is Rescue One. The harness is coming down. We might only have one shot at this so keep your heads. One of you will have to slip into the harness and the other will slide the strap around him then wrap your arms and legs around his body. We're going to pull you up together and then get the hell out of here," the captain explained.
Taylor looked at Stanton and nodded. "Okay, Rescue One, just get us out of here. Please!" he added frantically, watching the harness lower, even as he spoke.
Anxious hands reached up to grab the swaying harness as the pilot worked to keep the creature at bay by keeping the raft in the bullseye of the spotlight, all while managing the expertise of dropping a line in the middle of a storm.
"Got it!" Stanton announced. The harness was given enough slack to allow the larger sailor to slide it on. Once secure, Taylor climbed into the looped strap and then wrapped his appendages around his shipmate.
"We're in!" Taylor yelled, looking over his shoulder at new ripples forming around their raft as their worst fears began to manifest themselves. "Go! It's coming back!" he yelled into the radio.
The crew wasted no time in engaging the electric winch, but their ascent seemed to rise in slow motion when they looked below them to see large tentacles beginning to broach the surface. Suddenly, their harness swung violently, and their ascent ceased when the helicopter made a sharp movement forward to evade a reaching tentacle. The two men looked up at the crew, begging them with their eyes to not abandon them to the sea as the creature's tentacles began flailing about, searching blindly for its escaping prey. They screamed when a searching appendage nearly found them, but its movements were random and frantic as the helicopter gained speed and found an escape route in between the thrashing tentacles with suction pads as large as the lifeboat itself.
Incredibly, the helicopter evaded the sea-monster's reach and disappeared into the night's sky, carrying with it the two survivors holding on for dear life. After what seemed to be a lifetime, Stanton and Taylor felt the harness resume its upward motion, looking below to see only a dark, black sea, with the creature nowhere to be seen. It only took a moment more for the two dangling men to reach their destination, where the rescue crew helped pull them into the safety of the helicopter. Upon realization of their successful rescue, the two men broke out into hysterical laughter mixed with ecstatic elation, embracing one another in a friendship forged by adversity. Just as quickly, their joy turned to tears as they realized just how close they had come to suffering the gruesome death that their fellow shipmates had surely endured. With wool blankets wrapped around their shoulders, each man was left to contemplate their harrowing experience with both men coming to the same conclusions; they'd never again be the same; and they would never, ever return to the sea.
Chapter One
The soft hum and gentle beeps of highly advanced electronics buzzed in the background and went largely unnoticed aboard the state-of-the-art nuclear submarine, SSRN Seaview, as dedicated crewmen attended their stations. Palpable expectation permeated the Control Room as two months under the ice had built-up intense anticipation, growing internally each day they neared the end of the ice field to reach the crescendo they were now experiencing.
"Open waters ahead, Sir, bearing 020 relative," Kowalski reported from sonar.
"Very well," Captain Lee Crane replied, "all ahead; dead slow."
"All ahead; dead slow," Seaview's Executive Officer, Chip Morton echoed to the captain's affirming nod.
"Still clear, Kowalski?" Crane inquired.
"Aye sir, we're in the clear."
"Very well, all-stop," he ordered into the mic and waited as his order was carried out and the forward motion of the sub came to a complete stop.
"Depth, keel to bottom?" the dark-haired captain inquired, leaning over the chart table.
"Thirty fathoms, keel to bottom," Chip replied, verifying from the helm.
"Very well," Lee replied, confirming their position and marking it on the chart before him. "Take us up, Mr. Morton."
"Aye, aye, Skipper," the Exec replied, raising a mic to speak. "Blow all ballast tanks, 10 degrees on the planes," he ordered while Lee noted their position in the boat's log as the large submarine began its ascent.
Lee closed the log book and stowed it under the chart table then turned toward the Control Room, surveying the situation lights and verifying their present depth of 15 fathoms. He walked to the navigation computer, depressing the button for a read-out and perused its contents on his way to the Radio Shack.
"We're at ninety-feet, Sparks," he informed the radio operator with a raised brow, anticipating a flood of messages from the world they'd been sequestered from while under the ice.
"Aye, Sir, I'm starting to hear some chatter already," the slender lieutenant replied with a grin.
"Very well, your vacation is over, mister," Lee quipped with a jestful pat to Sparks' shoulder.
"Aye Skipper, I'm ready to begin transmitting," he replied, as he prepared to contact the Nelson Institute and transmit their present position for the first communication in three weeks. They had managed to raise a communication's buoy through a small patch of ice several weeks ago for a short "all is well" communique with NIMR, but that had been the extent of their contact with the outside world since their voyage began two months ago.
Sparks reached for the clip board already organized with the highest priority of boat's business stacked on top. It was going to be a busy day on the radio, but the gleam in the shy lieutenant's eyes betrayed his otherwise straight face, as Seaview's Communication's Officer engaged in his work with the concealed delight of a child who had not been allowed to play with his favorite toy in some time.
Lee cracked a short grin that faded just as quickly and headed back to the chart table with the NAV printout still in hand. As he approached, he took in the mesmerizing sight of the bubbles bathed in the filtering sunlight and pressing against Seaview's windows as the boat rose majestically to the surface. Even though he was quite accustomed to the view, it was a welcome sight after their extended voyage in the frozen region. Satisfaction played out only slightly in his countenance, before glancing to his right at the unmistakable steps of Nelson's oxfords descending down the spiral staircase.
"Admiral," he greeted amiably, "you were right, Sir, open waters before 0800."
"Lucky guess," Harry replied with a thin grin as Lee chuckled, shaking his head slightly in a respectful beg-to-differ reaction; they both knew that Admiral Harriman Nelson didn't need lucky guesses to make his predictions. He was spot on… as usual.
"Ten feet to surface," Morton reported as Nelson and Crane soaked in the brightness of the sun guiding the vessel to the surface like an out of body experience of a dying man. Only a moment passed before they saw their first light of day in two months as the large submarine broached the surface with a gentle bobbing motion under their feet. "On the top," Chip reported, "outside temperature 42 degrees (F), winds out of the SW at 10 mph, scattered cumulus overcast," he finished proficiently.
"Very well, Mr. Morton, crack the hatch," Crane ordered with a small grin, turning toward the crewman holding his heavy weather jacket. "Thanks, Phil," he replied, sliding on the tan overcoat as Nelson did the same.
Upon gearing up, they headed toward the conning tower passing satisfied crewmen at their stations, content to experience the fresh air vicariously for the moment, as the Skipper and the Admiral ascended the ladder to the bridge. Despite their diligence to their stations, more than a few of the men snuck a peek towards the Admiral's Front Porch to catch the breathtaking view of white puffy clouds scattered across an otherwise, incredibly blue sky while absorbing like a sponge their first sight of daylight since submerging into the icy depths two months ago.
# # # # #
Lee followed Harry up the ladder to the conning tower, taking a deep breath when he reached the top. The air was cool but comfortable as the two officers took in the brilliance of the sky, accompanied by the first anticipated breaths of un-recirculated air. Neither one hid their satisfaction as the beauty of the sea partly frozen with icebergs floating in the distance, was surpassed only by the cotton-like clouds dotting the azure sky above. They barely had time to revel in the sunshine before the buzz of the comm system interrupted them.
"Skipper, this is the Exec."
"Go ahead, Mr. Morton."
"Sir, NIMR Communications reports that Washington has been trying to make contact with the Admiral for the last three weeks; they relay that it's urgent he contact them at once."
"Very well," he replied, stowing the mic and raising an eyebrow at the ominous message.
"Well, I'd better not keep Washington waiting," Harry said, taking one final look at the sky and then turning for the ladder, followed by Lee.
At the bottom of the ladder, Harry turned toward the Radio Shack. "I'll make the call from my cabin," he informed.
"Aye Sir," Sparks replied, readying his station for the transmission as the Admiral headed for the spiral staircase.
"Chip, post a look-out," Lee ordered, arriving at the chart table.
"Aye sir," he replied then leaned in closer for a private discussion. "What do you think it's all about, Lee?"
"I'm not sure," he answered, biting his bottom lip in unspoken concern, "but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," he finished, reaching for the straightedge and charting the next checkpoint for their voyage home.
# # # # #
"Yes, Mr. Secretary," Harry acknowledged. "Right away… very well," he finished, hanging up the receiver. He pondered the call for only a moment before depressing the intercom button. "Captain Crane, this is Nelson."
"This is Crane."
"The SECNAV is sending over pertinent information via the radio-phone, have it delivered to my office the instant it arrives."
"Will do, Admiral."
"Thanks, and Lee, give me about an hour to study the information and then report to my cabin for a briefing."
"Aye, Sir. Any change of course?"
"Just proceed on our present course south for now; I'll have more details in the next hour."
"Very well."
Harry expelled a breath, tapping his pen on the desk blotter in deep thought, before heading to a cabinet. He rifled through some rolled sea charts until he found the one he wanted and took it back to his desk, unrolling it and leaning over the chart in deep thought. Three ships tragically lost at sea in the last four weeks, and only two men survived… with a fantastic tale.
# # # # #
"Whew," Lee expressed, blowing a breath of disbelief with an accompanied shake of his head. He closed the filed folder and placed it on the edge of Nelson's desk. "That's some story," he commented, after reading the accounts of the two surviving sailors.
"Yes, and verified by the Search and Rescue team," the auburn-haired admiral replied, "and this," he added, dropping a black and white photograph on the desk depicting a dark and angry sea, a life raft being tossed about in the waves, and a large shadowy figure directly under the raft. Though the figure was largely hidden by the sea, several appendages of a squid-like creature could be seen under the helicopter's spotlight.
Lee blew a breath, staring at the picture and extrapolating the size of the creature by the dimensions of the appendages' visible parts.
"That would explain the recent attacks and ship losses, but it just doesn't make sense," the captain countered. "How could a creature this size go unnoticed for so long and how could it possibly feed itself to sustain its enormous size?"
"Its size, no doubt, is the reason why the large ships are being targeted. Think about it, Lee; from underwater, those ships might appear to be prey. Though Sperm whales are its usual predator, smaller whales are a giant squid's natural quarry, after all. At any rate, these are the questions Washington wants us to answer."
"With the vastness of the ocean," the captain pondered, "how could we possibly narrow the search down to find it? The ship wrecks are hundreds of miles apart," he added, opening the folder again to verify his previous observation.
"Yes, but do you notice anything significant on this chart?" Harry asked, unrolling a sea chart over the top of his desk.
Lee stood and leaned over the desk, perusing the chart where three red "x's" marked the location of the last known locations of the three ships lost at sea. The captain quickly surveyed the chart, his forehead tightening in thought until it he shook his head in surrender, unable to come up with the significance solely with the data before him.
"Though the shipwrecks are, as you said, hundreds of miles apart, they all seem to be centrally located around this particular spot," Harry said, indicating the area in question with a tap of his pencil.
Lee studied the chart again, almost ready to admit that he had no clue, when his eyes suddenly alighted in illumination. "Sterling's sealab!"*
Harry nodded, sitting back and tossing the pencil on the chart. "It could explain everything, the creature's enormous size…"
"And why the sudden activity," Lee added.
"Yes, the fissure produced an unnatural growth rate in Sterling. Now, based on our past experience, it's conceivable that the squid grew to this size in a fairly short amount of time."
Lee slid onto the edge of Harry's desk, lowering his eyes in deep thought until he raised them in marked concern. "If the fissure affected a squid to grow to this size, then we can expect more sea creatures in the area to also be affected."
"I'm afraid so," Harry said, leaning over the chart with his hands folded. "I've suggested that Washington quarantine the area, and the US has agreed temporarily, but the UN is dragging its feet; they want proof that the shipwrecks were nothing more than tragic storms at sea. This area is right in the middle of a well-established international sea lane. The prevailing winds and currents funnel the ships right to this area," he explained using his finger to trace a large invisible circle on the chart. "They want something concrete before disrupting the sea trade. It appears they're skeptical and want proof beyond two terror-struck survivors and a fuzzy photograph. Quite frankly, I think the hold-outs are more worried about their bottom dollar than admitting we've got a problem." Harry sat back in his chair and heaved a silent sigh. "We're constricted by time on this, Lee. We've got to get there, and if the fissure has been re-opened, seal it… before we lose another ship!" he added with conviction.
Lee nodded and stood. "I'll bring Chip up to speed and order a course change, but have you given any thought as to how we might neutralize a creature of that size?"
"Assuming its only adaptation is its enormous size, I'm sure I can adjust Seaview's forward lasers to do the job." Harry dropped his head slightly and sighed. "It really is a shame to have to destroy the creature," he added before raising a hand to quell the forthcoming protest from Seaview's captain. "I know; we have no alternative, and we certainly can't allow it to threaten any more lives. It's just a shame."
Lee nodded in acknowledgement, completely understanding that the scientist in Harry would love to study the giant squid. Be that as it may, they both knew that creature must be destroyed.