Rescue Operation (9)
A ferry packed with people cut across the sea. It was late afternoon now. A little longer, and twilight would paint the ocean in brilliant hues.
While I was reviewing the warden and prisoner lists in the Central Control Room, the prisoners still full of energy inside the ferry were chatting about their future.
"This wasn't for nothing, right?" Nina glanced around uneasily.
"What?" Sasha asked.
Nina jerked her chin toward their surroundings instead of answering. Every direction showed cabins jammed floor-to-ceiling with people. And weaving through them were heavily armed robots. The way they'd just taken down that brawling prisoner earlier had been impressive. The one hit in the shoulder couldn't even stand for a while, just gasping and choking. No bones broken or anything. They'd precisely targeted her muscles for maximum pain. If it was deliberate, that made it terrifying in its own way.
"From now on, we're under those tin cans' control? They smack anyone who doesn't listen?"
In all Nina's experience with cops and wardens, she'd never seen anyone—let alone a woman—handled like that, no matter how much of a prisoner they were.
"The place we're headed looks pretty hardcore."
"No, that's not it," Sasha said to Nina's grumbling. "The whole world's gone hardcore now."
Sasha's gaze drifted to the ad LCD screens scattered throughout the ferry. Pre-recorded educational videos were playing. Not teaching anything specific—just showing photos and footage of how the outside world had changed. Ruined Korean cities and landmarks, the last desperate news broadcasts from stations, all neatly edited for easy viewing.
Truth be told, they didn't even need to show it. Everyone here knew what the world was like. About 30% had been shipped to the island mid-war, and the other 70% right as South Korea was getting turned to ash. Plenty had passed through those ruined cities in the footage along the way.
"Sob..."
What about the clusters of prisoners crying in the corners, PTSD kicking in from the videos? They'd been ambushed by monsters during transport, watching the buses ahead and behind get torn to shreds. No mental conditioning needed—everyone here craved a safe haven.
Grrrrowl.
Stomach growls echoed nonstop from every direction. Cram a bunch of starving people into tight spaces, and the rumbling filled the air.
"Ah, this is so damn noisy. Shut it, you bitches!" Nina snapped irritably, but what could anyone do about their own stomachs? Everyone was too drained to care, just eyeing her warily. The guard bots didn't seem interested in intervening over this.
"Warden!" Nina shot her hand up.
"Wh-what?" The wardens huddled in one corner stared at her in panic.
"Not you! Bitches who were locked up barefoot and just got sprung—still wanna play warden?"
The wardens flushed at the insult but said nothing.
"Warden! Warden!" Nina cheerfully called to a nearby guard bot. She didn't seem to mind bowing to a machine. Maybe she'd already realized these weren't your standard robots. Good adaptability, given the abnormal situation.
The guard bot scanned Nina's prisoner profile for her threat level, then approached with its shotgun aimed.
"Whoa, up close you look even tougher."
> Do you have a request?
"Yes! I'm starving. Can we get something to eat?"
> You will arrive at destination shortly. Meal provided after quarantine and medical check.
"Is the portion enough?"
> Standard Shelter worker meal ration will be provided.
Nina plopped back down grinning like an idiot, and the guard bot moved on. The prisoners stared at her like she'd lost her mind.
"Man, I'm hungry."
Nina smacked her lips, ignoring the stares. Then the speakers crackled on.
Nina recognized the voice. The young woman she'd briefly met in the offshore prison auditorium. Rose, was it?
"Sasha."
"What?" Sasha was inspecting her nails.
"Who's the big boss at our new place? Guy or girl?"
"Guy."
"Know anything about him? His crew looks scary."
Sasha pondered. "Not much. We'll find out soon enough."
Being influential among prisoners made her a useful tool for control. They'd meet the new manager eventually.
As they imagined what he might be like, their new manager was facing a different problem.
Warning. Warning. Object approaching this vessel detected.
A guard bot on standby in the ferry's bridge reported to me.
"What's approaching? Another ship?" I set down my coffee. I'd catnapped in the Central Control Room overseeing the op, so I was beat.
> Negative. Not surface debris. Approaching from below sea level.
"Whale or shark? Submarine?"
Not widely known, but Korea's seas had whales, great whites, and whale sharks sometimes. Or maybe a surviving ROK Navy sub.
> Negative. Transmitting sonar screen.
Visuals popped up on the Central Control Room screen. An icon pulsing sonar from the ferry's position in the map's center. An unidentified object approaching dead-on from afar.
> Not whale or shark speed. No existing sub that large.
"Targeting the ferry?"
> Path altered upon initial detection—object matched trajectory. Clearly pursuing this vessel.
"Time to intercept?"
> 13 minutes.
"Cutting it close."
The Shelter's rear gangway was complete. The ferry's entry was wide—women could go through eight abreast. These weren't civilians; prisoners used to marching in formation. With good control, they could disembark before it caught up.
"Whatever it is, assume it's deadly."
The unidentified blip on screen was closing fast. The countdown ticking down second by second in the corner was grating. It hit 10 minutes as the ferry arrived, docking at the long temporary gangway from the rear entrance with under 8 left.
> Disembark immediately.
Under guard bot control, the women hurried off. On my orders, Rose had entered the Shelter first. She'd wanted to be last, but I commanded immediate disembarkation.
> Maintain order.
Under 5 minutes left, but only half off. The sonar blip was nearly on top of us. Clearly targeting the ship.
5 minutes. 4. 3. Under 2.
Some women hustling across the gangway froze.
"What the hell is that?!"
Shrieks of shock and awe echoed everywhere. Beyond the ferry, a massive black shadow raced in below the surface. As it neared, the sea split wide, revealing its presence. Even intense twilight scattering couldn't hide the colossal something approaching.
> Move quickly. Do not stop.
The bots took control; the women moved. Instinct told them this wasn't a sideshow.
All clear with under a minute. "Send the ferry out now."
> Got it.
Under Artemis's remote control, the ferry sped away. 30 seconds. 20. 10.
The shadow breached.
First impression: super-giant lobster. Purple-blue compound eyes, each over 5 meters wide. Below, a dark-blue carapace segmented into joints—each plate slightly smaller than the ferry. Seawater gushing between poured like a waterfall, slamming the surface and rocking the ferry pitifully.
Its submerged lower body: muscular tentacles like a cephalopod's. Length unimaginable.
But most striking: mountain-like chest flanked by massive arms. Ends tipped with wrecking-ball fists. Anaconda-thick tendons tensed from fist to arm to torso. Fist cocked back, power coiling to shake mountains.
BOOM!!!
Not a roar—an explosion. The last group still on the gangway screamed, clutching ears. Some lost balance, tumbling into the sea.
The ferry's deck? Empty. Superstructure and bridge gone.
THUD!!!
Second blast: midship erupted, hull split. Water flooded the cross-section, sinking it.
But the beast wasn't waiting.
BOOM!!!
Third: bow exploded skyward. The monster eyed the stern half, then dove like a whale. Tentacles surged up in a sunflower ring.
FWOOOMPH!
They snapped shut, unleashing a shockwave. Sonic boom above, turbulent waves below. It propelled the beast away like a cannon.
[KYAAAH!]
[AAAAH!]
The tsunami spray hit the cave entrance, knocking women flat on the gangway. Far off, the black shadow vanished across the sea. Ferry wreckage? Gone.
> Help!
Only a few survivors crawled from the gangway, ears bleeding, and those flailing in the water. Rescue boats launched amid the chaos as Artemis spoke.
Leviathan...
A name that fit perfectly.
"Even the sea's not safe. No idea how many—or how many types—lurking out there."
My faint hope of Navy survivor groups? Shattered.
A question hit me. "Why show now? We got lucky, but it had plenty of chances to strike earlier."
Maybe finished off easy prey and went into a rest phase. Or hunted far offshore. Plenty of hypotheses. One certainty: float a ship, and one'll come calling soon.
I stared at the darkening sea. Sunny blue, sunset glow, starry night—oceans were nature's timeless spectacle.
But now, even that beauty felt tainted. I knew simple joys like pocketed pants in the woods or park strolls were gone. Now the sea too? It weighed heavy on my heart.