The morning of the 30^th saw most of the crew gathered on the main deck for some training in the use of their recently acquired weaponry. Artyom was supervising it, and had gathered the shipmates with the most military experience among the crew to assist him.

Which is how he found himself with a hippogriff and a gargoyle at his side. The hippogriff, Sri, used to be part of his country’s navy whereas the gargoyle, Nikola, had worked for a couple years as an army mechanic.

He had been rather surprised when both of them announced they already had experience with some of the weapon systems they had found at the base. Sri had told him that the Indonesian navy he had worked with in the past apparently used Belgian weapons extensively. Under licensing, of course, but the similarities were there.

They had arranged each of the weapons on a table in front of them to demonstrate their use, with some more in a crate behind them for when they decided to move on to practical manipulations. Fortunately for Artyom, Sri had been kind enough to tell them about the intricacies when they were preparing how to give their lesson. They did experience some difficulties with the more modern weapons, but they wanted to keep them for later anyway since they doubted the crew would be able to use them effectively, with an exception being made for the less-lethal weapons out of necessity.

Artyom quickly checked his list. The Captain had ordered the crew to be divided in two shifts for the lesson. A quick head count told him all were present and ready. With a nod towards his two colleagues, he began his little speech.

“Alright listen up people.” He began, making his way around the table. “We’re now aware that whatever cataclysm happened a week ago apparently also came with its lot of nasty creatures. Case in point, those wood hounds thingies which resulted in the infirmary currently being occupied by two people.”

“It goes without saying that we need a mean of defending ourselves. Thankfully, personal experience has led me to discovering the unsurprising fact that yes; guns do work against walking lumber. Fire too, but that’s beside the point for now. What does matter, is that I make sure that you are able to use those…” He waved at the guns on the table. “To defend yourselves and your shipmates. To that effect, Captain Prateek has authorized me to teach you how to properly use guns.”

“But before we proceed with manipulations, I have to lay the groundwork. We have decided of some… rules and principles that will make sure you using these guns doesn’t endanger your shipmates because you accidentally go and shoot someone. Understood?”

He got a murmur of assent from the crowd around him so he decided to continue.

“Good, we will begin with these, and I will ask again at the end of the three hours we allocated for this lesson, and then once again tonight in the cafeteria. The Chief Officer is already looking into making a regular scheduled training for this, so expect some bi-weekly training if discussion don’ t change too much. Sri and Nikola will deal with the practical manipulations while I deal with the theory, so to speak.”

Artyom turned around and grabbed one of the older assault rifles they had decided to give the crew. It was called a FNC according to Sri. He checked that the weapon wasn’t loaded and then faced the crew.

“This, is a FNC. It stands for Fabrique Nationale, Carbine and will be the main weapon we train you to use. It’s as standard a weapon as it gets before going into Kalashnikov territory. When using it, we have decided to establish five rules which you will remember at all times. Fail to do so, and I will personally make sure you never touch a gun again and to give you the beating of a lifetime. I will also add that those rules are also valid for the use of our less-lethal weapons, including the tasers.”

“Rule one. Always treat a weapon as if it were loaded. It doesn’t matter if you know it is not chambered and there is no magazine on it, most firearm accidents occurred with weapons that were assumed to be unloaded. Furthermore, it has been decided with the Captain that we will not walk around with ammunition in the chamber. We will only chamber a round in presence of a threat. Questions?”

There were none so he continued.

“Rule two. Never point your weapon at something you are not willing to shoot. That means you don’t go waving your gun at people for fun, and that you always make sure the barrel isn’t aimed at someone because you were not paying attention.” Artyom said, walking around the crewmembers assembled in half a circle around the table.

“Take note, that as I walk around right now, the tip of the barrel is never pointed towards any of you. You will have to make certain you don’t do so, particularly when you have a weapon on your back in a sling or when someone passes by you. If you follow this one rule, chances are that even in case of accidental discharge, nobody will be hurt.”

“Rule three. Your finger, or claw, or talon, whatever you call it nowadays, must remain off the trigger until your target is in your sights and you are ready to shoot. This is to ensure that in case of fall or surprise, you do not accidentally press the trigger.”

“Rule four. Be conscious of your target and its environment, as well as yours. These guns are powerful, and the bullets can go through a lot of surfaces. They will stay deadly even after ricocheting. Understand these implications, and you will understand that there is a very real risk of the bullet going through your target to damage dangerous materials on the other side, or the chance of a missed shot ricocheting and injuring an ally.”

“You must also remember that some of the ammunition we use is tracers. They can be a fire hazard, and can sometimes set vegetation on fire, let alone explosive gas clouds. Rule four also implies that you know the risks of shooting a weapon in an enclosed space, and I’m talking about the sound of the discharge.”

Saying that, the dragon tapped the set of ear defenders around his neck for emphasis.

“Using hearing protection is heavily advised, though I understand it is not always possible to spare the time to put them on when you detect a threat.” Artyom stopped to think for a moment.

“For rule number four, also take into account what is around you. That can be a shipmate who may need to pass in front or close to you. Moving around, you must also pay attention and avoid losing your footing with a loaded weapon. Sri and Nikola will explain later about how to get a correct firing position which will make sure to decrease the risk of having your firing disrupted.”

Artyom paused again and surveyed the crowd to make sure everyone was following. He had notes to give them about it but that could wait for later. Not giving them anything for now would ensure they paid attention, if the prospect of not shooting their comrades wasn’t enough of an incentive.

“At last, rule number five. Never leave a weapon alone. Unless they are stored in the armory, which will be the ship’s vault until we build one, you must always have your weapon by your side. I don’t even want to hear about it being safe if it’s left in a vehicle, those guns gotta stay glued to you. The only exception allowed will be if it’s in the hands of someone else, and even then I want you all to be able to tell who and where that person is. Copy?”

Everyone nodded in answer, so Artyom made his way to a weapon crate by the table. He opened it to reveal some more rifles, as well as a few pistols.

“Excellent then. Everyone line up to get a rifle, I want the quadrupeds to go with Sri, bipeds with Nikola. We will do the pistols later.” Artyom put his rifle back on the table and grabbed a machinegun instead. He looked through the crowd and waved at the ship’s sole minotaur, Angelo.

“Angelo, big guy, you’re not getting a rifle. Wouldn’t fit with those fingers of yours anyway.”

The minotaur stopped and looked at the boatswain curiously. Artyom presented him the machinegun.

“It’s not gonna be easy since the gun’s a lot more complicated than a mere assault rifle, but I want you to take that.”

Angelo easily hefted the enormous gun in his arms. With the sheer size of the minotaur, it looked like he was just holding a regular weapon instead of 12 kilos worth of firepower.

“Yeah I can get behind that decision bosun.” Angelo said with a smile. “Feels rather light.” He added.

“Only to you big guy, trust me. Now get over here, it’s lesson time and you will need it.”

Dilip looked down through his cabin’s window at the crewmen training. They were now practicing their manipulations with inert rounds.

He dearly hoped Artyom would be able to whip the crew into shape so that they could avoid a repeat of the wood hound incident. Vadim had had to adjust his estimation on how long it would take for both of their casualties to recover.

The unicorn being stuck with stitches for a week or two didn’t bother him overly much, though he would be interested to meet the guy when Vadim told him he was ready for visitation. No, what annoyed him to no end was that his youngest officer, and most importantly his only officer that could speak the local tongue, would be walking around on crutches for up to two months thanks to that dislocated hip.

The dog Captain served himself a cup of tea. A nice dose of Darjeeling always did wonders to soothe his nerves. He turned away from the window and focused back on the files on his desk.

He quickly skipped through most of the files that were just the usual fare of the maintenance schedules and timetables. Those were already good and didn’t need much reviewing. A quick stamp, a signature, and then they were already going through the scanner before he had time to bother about them too much.

What actually mattered at the moment were the proposals he had to go through regarding modifications to the ship. His Chief Engineer hadn’t spared him with the volume, he thought, glancing at the stack of documents. He took a sip of his tea before starting.

A proposal to extend the fixed firefighting systems to the added areas was quickly approved, as well as the installation of a carbon dioxide compressor in the dedicated storage so that they could refill the fixed bottles and the fire extinguishers. Dilip put a high priority on protecting the new vehicle fuel tanks, and their ammunition storage, which he ordered to be put close to the bow on the main deck.

No need to put the explosives at the heart of the vessel if they could help it. Dangerous goods were supposed to be carried on deck and not in the holds. He did order a system to fill the storage with foam in case of fire though.

He selected a new area to install the future armory, making sure to keep it close to the new workshop to facilitate maintenance work on the weapons. It was a good thing they had retrieved an ultrasonic bath for weapon cleaning, he thought, he never particularly liked having to waste hours upon hours cleaning them.

Thinking about some ships he had seen doing fluvial navigation, he put a note for the crew to try to find a rhib equipped with sounding equipment. If they were truly alone, then soundings would become increasingly unreliable as time went on. A boat sounding the waters ahead of them might help with that… somewhat.

His work was interrupted by his phone ringing. An internal call.

“Good morning Captain, Third Officer Zinoviya from the infirmary. You wanted to visit Corporal De Mesmaeker as soon as possible I recall?”

“Yes Vadim. Is he ready?”

“He is sir. Though there may be some difficulties in the process. The Corporal doesn’t speak English.”

“That’s a bit of a problem indeed. Any solution?”

“Already got one. De Vries does the translation.”

“Good work. I’m coming down in a minute, just finishing some paperwork.” Dilip concluded before hanging up.

As he scanned his completed documents, Dilip’s gaze drifted over another stack of files. It was in that one that he had gathered all the available data on the cataclysm, and his assumptions on it.

Hopefully this De Mesmaeker would be able to shed some light on the problem…

Back in the infirmary, things were rather quiet. Vadim had just finished examining Bart’s state and had finally bothered to remove his catheter (Geert on the bed next to them winced in sympathy).

“Vadim says your wound is already showing signs of healing. Provided there is no infection, you should be able to put some weight on your forelimbs within a week, and removing the stitches within two weeks.” Geert translated the griffon’s explanation to the Belgian patient.

The parrot was still keeping himself busy with his laptop, but finding working websites was becoming a challenge in itself. With an annoyed snort at his last search result, he glanced at Vadim.

“What are you doing with all that blood?”

The griffon was hunched over a set of blood vials and an encyclopedia in a corner of the infirmary. Vadim was busily jotting down notes in a booklet as he leafed through the massive book.

“I’m trying to figure out the blood types that go with our new species. Still only doing the griffons for now… And even then I’m not too sure about the results.”

“Care to explain? It’s not like I have too much to do and having someone to explain it to might clear up your thoughts.”

“Here’s the thing. I made all the griffons on board take a test and stored the samples. All came back with the same type: A negative. What I want to know is if the test detects all the variables I want or what it detects.”

“Why don’t you just mix it with human A negative blood and see if it coagulates?”

“I don’t want to waste either the stored blood or the samples if I can help it. Would be a shame to do that if the encyclopedia just tells me I’m wrong without requiring any test.”

“Then again the encyclopedia doesn’t know shit about aliens.”

“Aliens?” Vadim smiled.

“You got a better word for it? I could also say gopnik with a beak problem.”

Before Vadim had the time to think up an answer, Dilip walked in the room and both officers immediately straightened up.

“Greetings gentlemen.” The Captain said. “How are our patients doing?”

“Good sir.” Vadim answered. “Nothing alarming for both of them.”

“And the recovery time?”

“I estimate De Vries to be mobile and on crutches within days, but if the encyclopedia is accurate.” He tapped his book with a talon for emphasis. “Then he should be stuck on crutches for a while. Up to two months.”

The Captain looked towards the bedridden unicorn in the room, who looked at him curiously.

“And what of De Mesmaeker?”

“Mobile within a week, and I estimate two weeks until removal of his stitches.”

Dilip nodded and turned to address Geert.

“Can you tell Corporal De Mesmaker I wish to ask him a few questions? It’s about the cataclysm.”

Geert translated the request and Bart perked up. He pushed back in his bed to straighten up a bit and made a motion with his hoof indicating for the Captain to ask away. Dilip took a seat by the bed and leaned forward.

“I need you to try to remember what happened immediately before and after you woke up as a unicorn. What time it was, when you woke up, and if you noticed anything beside your change of form. That sort of thing.”

It took a minute after Geert translated for Bart to collect his thoughts.

“I was on patrol at the time. I think it was around 02.30, maybe 02.45. That’s the time I usually choose to do my first round around the base. I was inside at the time, just checking that all offices were closed. Nothing unusual with that, and I had taken Samson along because he was getting antsy staying inside all night.” The unicorn shivered at the thought of his deceased dog. “Then my walkie-talkie started crackling. Usually it happens when the reception isn’t too good so I tried to leave the building. I thought the guys at the guard post were trying to call me; they were a bit pissed off because I wanted to do my patrol alone. Had a lot on my mind at the time you see. Next thing I know there’s this flash in sky. I caught some copper-ish smell and then it was full blackout.”

“02.30? Are you sure it’s not 01.30?” Geert asked.

“Negative.” The unicorn shook his head. “I always go on patrol at the same time. Why? Did it happen at another time for you?”

“Captain, were we on Belgian or English time on the 23^rd?” Geert asked his superior.

“Belgian, why?”

“He says it occurred at 02.30 in Zeebrugge. A full hour after us.”

“Keep asking. Try to get him to tell you when he woke up if he knows.” Dilip paused. “If he knows, did he get a sort of ‘wave’ feeling from the event? That it progressed in a direction?”

One translation later, and the Captain had more questions than he started with. Bart’s tale was that the wave came from the North-West, contrarily to its western origin when it affected Amandine.

That eliminated the possibility of it having progressed parallel to meridians.

Another thing was that the time when he woke up was different. Bart wasn’t sure about the exact time, and it was even more inaccurate because his memory was skewed due to being unconscious for a while after being attacked, but he did tell them that he woke up in the evening. Bart also told them more about what followed, his dog finding him and recognizing him (probably due to his smell).

He reported detecting some kind of lightning bolt striking down near the base later in the night, when he was still figuring out how to move around. He told them he was still in the office building at the time, but that he had to discard his pants to move around unhindered.

“And when were you attacked?”

“Minutes after the lightning bolts. I heard the howling before I saw them just as I was getting out of the building. I forgot my holster in the commotion but I… panicked somehow and ran away. Which is odd, since I could barely walk before but it felt like my fight or flight reflex was skewed. The rest… They cornered me close to the warehouse and I threw myself through a window. Got some mild cuts but the coup de grace came from one of those… What do you call them?”

“For now? Wood hounds.”

“Yeah, one of them jumped through the window and pounced on me. It ran away when Samson bit it though. That dog had titanium teeth you know, lost his regular teeth in a car accident. Didn’t stop the hound from harming though. I couldn’t walk away with all my injuries, so I just bled there until you found me. How long do you think I was there?”

“Can’t tell I’m afraid. Maybe we could if we had access to the CCTV cameras…”

Bart shook his head and told Geert he couldn’t grant that request. Only Officers had access to the archived videos. He only had live feed access.

Dilip thanked him nonetheless for his contribution to the investigation before deciding to return to his quarters. He wanted to add this data to his files as soon as possible, and still had quite a load of documentation to wade through in addition to that.

“You think your Captain would object to me joining your crew?” Bart asked.

“Depends.” Geert shrugged. “From my own experience with him, if you can justify your presence on board by being useful, then it’s unlikely he would refuse. Why the question? You want to stick with us?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot of things keeping me there. Family? Gone. House? Wife got it in the divorce.” He glared at the ceiling. “It’s the apocalypse and there’s nobody left. In any case, I’d rather stick with people I can’t even talk to than wind up alone and go crazy from loneliness.”

“Eh, as long as you’re fine with that. I can bring it up later with other crewmembers if you want. Don’t you have gear that you’d want to retrieve or something? I bet we can work something out.”

“Well, I live far from here, so I usually stay at the barracks deeper inland on another base. But there’s my car on the parking lot where I keep my personal belongings and some spare clothes.”

Geert quickly asked Vadim if they could send a salvage team to get Bart’s belongings. The unicorn provided the number on his license plate and his car’s description. It was on the base’s parking lot so getting it would pose little trouble.

“Say, I had the keys on my uniform when I transformed. Did you put it somewhere?” Bart asked.

“The shirt was a bust with all the blood on it, but someone brought in the pants. We packed them and the shirt’s contents in a bag. It’s under your bed.”

Vadim was kind enough to get the keys from the bag at Geert’s request, though he was a bit annoyed at being forced to stop his ‘experimentation’. He left to give them to one of the salvage teams.

Now alone in the infirmary with Bart, Geert quickly began to get annoyed at the lack of work. He was straight out of websites to explore. The metaphorical light bulb lit up in his mind.

“Hey, you need something to pass the time?” He asked Bart.

“I wouldn’t mind it. Why?” The unicorn didn’t even have a laptop to pass the time, so the answer was rather expected.

“Just thinking you could use some improvised English lessons.”

“Ah fuck it, better than nothing. Where do you wanna start?”

Dilip was making his way up to his quarters when a shipmate stopped him by the cafeteria. Nikola, he recognized, the gargoyle was called.

“Sir, there’s something you need to see.” He said. “It’s Farkas…”

The Captain gave his subordinate a critical look. The gargoyle looked more surprised than actually alarmed, so it shouldn’t be too serious.

“Is it his injuries?” Dilip asked.

“No sir, it has to do with the lack of hands. You won’t believe it ‘til you see it.” Nikola answered, already opening the door to the cafeteria.

There was a gathering in the center of the room. Dilip caught some snippets of conversation about ‘sorcery’ and ‘witchcraft’ coming from a couple of the gathered crewmembers.

And right in the center of the crowd, the Captain could spot the unmistakably large silhouette of a sphinx facing in the opposite direction. His Chief Steward even, if the blue mane was any indication. Dilip recalled that Farkas had been particularly distraught since he lost both his gender and his hands, but the way he held his head seemed to indicate something had eventually managed to make a dent in his sour mood.

The dog easily pushed pushed his way through the crowd, everyone making way at the sight of their Captain.

“What’s going on here?” Dilip asked in an authoritative tone.

Farkas turned around, and the Greek turned female sphinx gave the Captain a bright smile.

“Good morning Captain. Nothing hazardous I assure you.” Farkas began. “I have just discovered the solution to my little ‘hand problem’.”

“Beyond using your mouth you mean?” Dilip asked, arms crossed.

“Yes sir, though the solution only came to me after experiencing after… an expressive release of frustration, to say it politely.”

The Captain just raised an eyebrow. Farkas resumed his explanation after a short pause.

“To explain it shortly… It appears sphinxes are able to move objects around without making contact with them.”

“Excuse me? Are you trying to tell me you can use telekinesis?”

Not that he never appreciated jokes, but he really had better stuff to do than entertain pranks from crewmembers, regardless of their position in the pecking order. Bizarrely, Farkas nodded firmly at Dilip’s incredulous question.

“That’s the word sir. Been practicing it for the past hour.”

Before Dilip had the time to dismiss what Farkas was saying, the front pocket of the sphinx’s coveralls was surrounded in a blue glow and opened by itself. A pencil rose up in the air out of the pocket and floated in front of Dilip’s muzzle.

The Captain, being an experienced sailor, had a reaction which would be considered very typical in the profession.

“What the shit Farkas, you’ve got ten seconds to explain that fucking witchcraft to me before I shove a kilo of salt down your throat to purge whatever spirits you got up your arse.”

The pencil floated back to Farkas’ pocket and the glow disappeared. Dilip noted that Farkas’ fur deflated a bit when he dropped the levitation. He had barely noticed how much attention the Chief Steward had to devote to the task.

“It’s an assumption, but I assume sphinxes developed that ability to make up for their lack of hands to manipulate tools. I still need to focus quite a lot to do it and the finer control is… inaccurate, but I estimate I can improve it with some training. From what I feel, it’s done by something in the vertebral column. Feels like flexing an invisible muscle.”

Dilip crossed his arms and looked down at the sphinx in thought. Time travel, wooden creatures, unicorns and fire breathing dragons… and now straight up magic. This End of the World was starting to go down in an extremely weird fashion.

But he’d be a fool not to make use of something like that when it presented itself on a silver platter. This was the chance he had been waiting for to get the sphinxes on the crew back to work.

“You think you can teach the other sphinxes how to do that?”

“With a few spare hours sir, probably.”

Dilip nodded and ordered the Chief Steward to do just that. He excused himself from the cafeteria and resumed his trip back to his quarters.

Sure it was good to have a solution for the sphinxes’ problems but that had just made his investigation of the Event even more complicated.

Later that evening after diner, Vadim found himself inside his cabin, finally enjoying some free time. He had decided to temporarily halt his pseudo-research with the blood late in the afternoon when he started to get frustrated at the lack of progress.

Better stop trying before he threw a vial against the wall in frustration. He still had plenty of time before the blood bags expired.

Vadim checked the time. Eight o’clock, work done for the day (the Captain had expressly told the crew work on the modifications was to be halted during the night), and no watch to be done since the ratings had that covered for the night.

All in all, as good a chance as he could hope for to catch up on his reading, Vadim thought with a smile. He grabbed a random book and bottle of liquor before installing himself comfortably at his desk. A report on the battle of Kursk , accompanied with a serving of… He checked the bottle. Pàlinka, exotic, but not too much. He served himself a small glass and began his reading.

Minutes later he stopped to open the zipper on the back of his coveralls to let his wings hang free. He had noticed the appendages were particularly prone to cramping when he leaned on them too much. The two large grey wings hung limply on either side of his chair, and his tail was passed through a hole in the back of his chair for comfort.

He had tried to gain some control over his new appendages, but since the Captain’s order on not attempting to take flight (for obvious safety reasons, he didn’t blame Dilip on that), he was rather limited in opportunities to try them out. He did make some attempts at moving them around, but his best efforts only resulted in the foreign and very sensitive limbs twitching aimlessly.

At least when it came to his tail he did manage to keep it out of doorways. That he had been very quick to learn, particularly when you remembered how bulky weathertight doors and hatches can be.

Vadim downed his glass in one go. Pàlinka had the benefit of being supposed to be served at room temperature and he took an immediate liking to the fruity liquid when he first visited Hungary something like three years ago. With a pleased sigh, he let the burning flavor of apricot make its way down his throat. God knows he needed a release after all the weird shit that had occurred that week.

He almost couldn’t believe it had already been a week since he woke up as a griffon. He glared down at the prominent beak on his face.

There were so many things he had had to relearn since then. Even going to the freaking toilet had been a learning experience, and that’s not even mentioning how he had to develop an entirely new technique to consume liquids.

Yeah beaks aren’t particularly good for that unless you got some practice. Micha had been very helpful with that. The Second Officer had been quite quick on the uptake when it came to the changes, but he had always known the Pole like that. The guy turned gal had a knack for figuring things out in short order, and always made sure to use his wit whenever possible.

Pity that didn’t extend to medical knowledge. The other griffon had been willing to provide a sample but had almost recoiled in horror at the prospect of looking into their biology.

His historical reading was brought to a halt when someone knocked on his door. Now who would be brave enough to separate him from finding out about the strategic implication of the loss of Axis armored divisions?

“Vadim? You in there?” Came Micha’s voice.

Speak of the Devil…

“It’s open.” He answered, already closing his book.

The other griffon walked in the room. He was clad in the usual orange nomex coveralls used on the ship, with safety shoes and the gloves the quadrupeds on the crew had taken to wearing at all times (for the sake of hygiene). Contrarily to Vadim, who was a grey falcon/cougar mix, Micha had been turned into a bald eagle/wildcat type griffon. The only thing out of the ordinary with his appearance (beyond the fact that he was a female griffon, but that was already established) was the highlighted green feathers around his eyes, which stood out starkly against the rest of the white plumage.

Vadim had a hard time believing they were natural, but he had been inclined to believe Micha’s claim that they indeed were.

Micha quickly closed the door with a kick of his hind leg, not looking the least bit worried but not too enthusiastic either.

“So…” Vadim started, turning his chair around. “To what do I owe your presence? Has anything happened?”

“Not at all don’t worry.” Micha shook his head, though Vadim did take note of how the Pole was trying to keep the pitch in his voice down. It seemed he wasn’t so stoic about his change. “Call this a personal visit.” He said, switching to Polish.

“Got something on your mind uh?” Vadim gestured for Micha to take a seat on his bed. “First off, want a glass?” He asked, pointing to his bottle of liquor.

“Yes please, feels like I need something to sort out those emotions.” Micha said, taking a seat on Vadim’s bed.

Vadim took a moment to serve his comrade and himself a new glass. The other griffon gingerly accepted the small glass.

“How do you deal with it?” Micha asked.

“I don’t.” Vadim admitted. “All the implications of this whole catastrophe… So far I’ve avoided thinking about it too much.” He furtively threw a glance at the framed photo on his desk. “God knows I had plans… Not that it really matters anymore. We weren’t really given a choice, were we?”

“You really think that course of action will do?”

“Fuck no, it won’t.” Vadim said, downing his second glass and already going for another. “I know one day or another I will have to face it. I just… can’t get around to approaching the question for now. You?”

“Listen Vadim, I know I’ve been quite critical in the past about your work ethics…”

“No shit.”Vadim interrupted.

Micha cast him a piercing gaze, and Vadim had the presence of mind to look the slightest bit apologetic.

“Despite how… abrasive you may be. I still consider you a friend.”

“So do I. But I thought that fact was pretty much established. What are you getting at?”

“You still have hope don’t you?” Micha said, letting his gaze drift in the direction of Vadim’s framed photo.

“And what of it? You want me to just give up? To completely forget about the ones I wanted to build a life with?” Vadim glared at the bald eagle griffon. “You don’t think we will ever see our families again.”

“I have a wife you know. An expecting wife I should add.” Micha said. “And along with her an old father to take care of. But I couldn’t afford to finance them if I stayed ashore.” He downed his glass. “Don’t come at me with a feeling of loss about a hypothetical family that had yet to be made. I got to live with the thought that my wife had to live through the apocalypse without her husband by her side and that stings a lot. But I didn’t come to hold some kind of misery pissing contest… Pointless since I find myself lacking in the dick department to fulfill the criteria.” He added with a wry grin on his beak.

“And why did you come?” Vadim asked, passing Micha the bottle of Pàlinka.

The other griffon moved to refill his own glass, but stopped mid-motion and instead took a sip from the bottle.

“I’m one of those who think it’s better to bear a plight in a duo rather than carrying the burden on your lonesome.” He passed the bottle back to Vadim. “You and I both know we can’t go to the ratings to dump our misery on them, and Alejandro was never a family guy to begin with. Still feel like you got nothing you want to let loose?”

Vadim glared for a couple seconds at Micha. He then shook his head with a sad smile before taking a swig from the bottle.

“You’re an asshole. A good, smart friend, but still… Kind of an asshole to go to your friends with things like that.”

“I do what’s needed.” Micha stated. “And I know you do too. I know what’s said tonight won’t ever leave the room.”

Vadim took another swig from the bottle. The strong liquor was starting to have an effect. Another shot or two and he would be just right where he wanted.

“Fine. You win. But I get to start.”

“Let loose buddy.”

And he did. That night, Vadim opened up his heart and, through the fog of alcohol, let go of the bigger part of his sorrow at the loss of his family, of his home, of his own body. It all came to him as if he had opened a floodgate, and he didn’t stop the tears from coming. He knew Micha wouldn’t hold it against him, because he was also at his friend’s side when the white feathered griffon revealed his own sorrow. Micha had great expectations for his life, all stolen, like the unborn kid he had left behind with his wife on the quays of Gdansk. The male turned female even revealed his worries about the loss of his gender to his colleague, which the other griffon did his best to appease.

Both officers finished the bottle of liquor that night, and if anybody asked them about what was said in Vadim’s cabin, both would later tell they didn’t remember anything because of the alcohol.

Later that night, in the Captain’s quarters, Dilip was still working his way through paperwork. The quantity wasn’t nearly as egregious as what he would see if the port authorities hadn’t been wiped out by an apocalypse so bizarre no religion in the world had managed to come up with the idea.

It just took him some time to wade through it because of how unusual it was. Regular paperwork he was used to was almost muscle memory. Modifications plans and salvage priority queues on the other hand, those he had to check out several times before signing.

The bipedal dog was putting the finishing touches on a standing order indicating to prioritize diesel engine vehicles for the sake of not having too much fuel diversity when he got a call on the intercom from the bridge. Odd, but not uncommon, he thought as he unhooked the handset.

“Good evening Captain, this is Able-Bodied seaman Stanislav on the bridge.” Dilip recalled he was one of the Ukrainians on the crew, he had turned into a hippogriff if he recalled correctly. “I have just received a call from an unknown source on the SATCOM; phone number indicates the caller isn’t a ship or a coast station. It’s a videoconferencing request.”

Now that was odd. All lines go dead for a week and now he gets a call from an unknown source.

“Patch him through to my quarters, but try to look in our database if we have a number on the station the call is going through or if it’s an independent antenna.”

“Right away sir. Switching call to your work station… Now.” Stanislav said before hanging up.

In front of him, Dilip’s computer screen was overtaken by a black screen. The live feed needed a few seconds before coming through, so the Captain took the time to connect the microphone and quickly check the webcam. All good.

The screen slowly resolved itself to present Dilip with… An actual human, what the hell? On his screen was an Indonesian looking man, about forty-years old with graying but well styled hair. The man had a goatee and wore executive glasses and a dark business suit. Dilip tried to make out what was behind the man, but he could only see a dark nondescript office and the man’s leather office chair.

The Captain eyed the man with a wary eye before leaning back in his chair. Better let him begin and explain himself.

“Good evening Captain Prateek. I suppose you are quite surprised at what your screen is showing you, correct?” The man began with a small grin on his face.

“That would be an understatement.” Dilip said slowly. “Before we begin, I don’t think it would be courteous of me to start throwing questions around without even knowing the name of my interlocutor.”

“Excuse the rudeness Captain” The man said in a falsely apologetic manner. “You may call me Agent Eko. I am a representative of the organizations known as the Human Preservation Initiative, HPI for short. You may be curious as to how we found out abou…”

“You found us logged in to the maritime satellite network, traced the number back to the ship and did your bit of research. It’s not rocket science if you have the means to do it, data on Amandine can be found on plenty of websites.” Dilip cut the man. “And I’m wearing my uniform, so it’s easy to see that I’m the Captain. Please don’t insult my intelligence just for the sake of gloating; the transformation doesn’t hinder my mental faculties.” He continued with a scowl.

“Pardon me then, and let’s cut to the core of the issue.” Eko said, not sounding the least bit offended by the outburst. “My organization is a secret endeavor founded some fifty years ago after the signature of an agreement by the UN Security Council. We are devoted to the cause of making humanity survive this catastrophe. For a long time our task was to develop the technologies that would allow humanity to make it through. Last week, the time finally came for us to see if we were ready.”

“I can see that worked out alright. Shame humanity didn’t get to profit from it.” Dilip said wrily, deciding not to pick up on the fifty years part… yet.

“’Alright’ is a relative term Captain.” Eko said. “This catastrophe has been followed by the arrival of a unknown radiation that is deadly to the human nervous system. The only reason I am alive and unaffected right now is thanks to prototype shielding technology relying on a generator that’s a tenth of the size of your own vessel. Should it fail, I would die a gruesome death within seconds. I do not consider myself as being in any better situation than you, thanks to being confined to a bunker deep under the ground. If our expectations are correct, never again will I have the opportunity of feeling a breeze on my skin or even the touch of natural light. ” Eko started drawing a pattern with his fingers on his desk as he said that last phrase. Dilip contemplated taunting the agent, but caught himself before doing that. Better extract as much intel as he could from the guy.

“I don’t suppose you could shed some light on the matter of this whole catastrophe…” Dilip said.

“Only to a certain extent. Much as I like to think otherwise, I am but a cog in the machine. I am afraid an explanation is not the reason behind my call tonight; for there are far more pressing concerns that need to be addressed. I can however tell you the reason behind this whole thing is more unbelievable than you could ever think, and that even with the best efforts of several world powers, the human population, by which I mean, those that have remained human thanks to shielding, has fallen down to the triple digits.”

“And what is more pressing than the apocalypse?”

“Another apocalypse; not caused by an external cause, but by our own lust for nuclear power. You see, our organization owns three large scale underground facilities. I may not disclose the exact location of two of them; just tell you they are in East Asia and North America. Our third one however, is believed to be lost with all hands. Each facility was equipped with a different prototype of shielding to increase our chances of survival, since we had no idea which shielding system would turn out to be the right one. Asia’s prototype held, but resulted in severe casualties and mutations on the personnel, which severely limits their acting capability for now.”

“Mutations? They transformed, didn’t they?”

“I may not say. What concerns us is that each facility was part of a network that gave us a backdoor access to all nuclear reactors so we could shut them down and monitor them remotely. Unfortunately, our facilities do not share these accesses for reasons decided by the Security Council prior to the catastrophe, meaning we can’t access the network of the fallen facility. This gets worse.”

“How worse? You just admitted that an entire continent of nuclear plants can pull a Fukushima on us anytime from now.”

“We have had a problem with the Belgian reactors. They were scheduled to be decommissioned this year, but the country’s main electricity provider decided to extend their lifetime recently due to not having a replacement for their energy output.”

“You don’t have a backdoor access on those.”

“We don’t.” Eko nodded. “But the situation can be salvaged. We may not be able to intervene from our bunkers… But you can.”

“I think someone gave you the wrong intel there. You seem to believe me and my shipmates are in any way trained to manipulate nuclear reactors.”

“We are aware of what you can exactly do. IMO certifications ensure us of that, but I am afraid you will be forced to step out of your comfort zone. Do you know how many nuclear reactors there are in France alone?”

“Something like, 10 maybe?” Dilip guessed.

“There are 58 of them Captain Prateek. We are talking about 61 Gigawatts of power under risk of meltdown, and that’s just below half of Europe’s nuclear power.” The fur may have hidden the dog paling at the revelation, but the way his ears drooped were enough of a tell. “You are the only operational ship in the world at the moment, and the only person we have been able to reach in such a manner. We can’t even ask someone else, and we know marine engineers are the best we can hope for. Be ensured that my superiors aren’t much happier about this turn of event than you are, but we can’t run the risk of the next returning person we manage to reach being a handless hairdresser.”

Dilip suddenly let out a barking laugh. He kept laughing for a couple seconds, Eko giving the Captain a bewildered look, before the dog managed to stop.

“I’m sorry, I just never thought someone would pull the ‘only you can save the world’ jig on me.”

“Captain this is a serious matter…”

“I know, I know. I believe you; nuclear plants need to be dealt with. Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind before. But I doubt we can even do it.”

“We can help with that. We have nuclear engineers in our organization. Should you accept this task, I will e-mail you contact details so that we can arrange telephonic guidance.”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I? I can refuse, but what is it worth if it’s only to plunge the world in nuclear fallout. Consider it accepted, but I will need more details.”

“Excellent decision Captain. You may want to grab something to take notes…”

“Been recording this all along, sunshine. That old seadog here wasn’t born yesterday.” Dilip said with a smug smile. That was a nice pun by his standards (which his Chief Officer would accuse of being pretty low when he saw the replay of the conversation).

Eko didn’t even waver at the claim, instead taking a sheet of paper in his hands.

“Very well. There are three objectives that need to be taken care of. First one is the nuclear power plant of Doel, near Antwerp. That one should be easy to reach for you since it’s along the river Scheldt and close to a container terminal.”

Dilip was pretty sure he had seen that plant at least a dozen times in his career. Wouldn’t be hard to find indeed.

“Next one is the only other Belgian nuclear power plant beside Doel. Tihange it is called; situated close to the town of Huy along the river Meuse. You will need to break in the control room, from where our specialists will be able to guide you. Those two are the power plants that need to be shut down.”

“And the last objective?”

“I was coming to it. It’s in close proximity to another nuclear station, but the station is NOT the objective. The location of our third large scale installation is, or rather, was in a Cold War era bunker buried under a hill next to the station. Your crew will have to break in -on their own I’m afraid since satellite connection won’t reach underground- and get to the control room to reactivate transmissions with my own facility so that we may regain control over the European reactors.”

“Forgetting to tell the actual location now?” Dilip pointed out.

“Pardon me; it’s on the French-Belgian border, still along the river Meuse. The town is called Chooz. You’re looking for the old reactor bunker; the installation is right beneath it.”

Dilip crossed his arms in thought. Breaking the news to the crew would be hard, and figuring out a way to do it all…

“Captain?” Eko asked, not sure the Captain was listening.

“I’m sorry. Just thinking about the… practical side of this, is all. What were you saying?”

“Just giving you a warning. For one we do not know what went on in our European installation, and for second, our latest risk assessment gives you about one week before the reactors go in the red.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes Captain…” Eko paused. “And good luck.”

“The wish is appreciated but we won’t need luck, only sheer competence. And Eko?”

“Yes?”

“Explanations will be owed after this, you do realize?”

“On my honor Captain.” The agent concluded before hanging up.

Dilip sighed. Tonight was going to be one hell of a night.

Author's Notes:

Next chapter is already partially written, but delays with the publication next week are possible due to a busy schedule and multiple sorties at sea within a short span of time. I will try to keep to the weekly updating, but that's no guarantee.

This chapter further illustrates how this story deviates from actual PaP canon. I decided to 'globalize' the HPI somewhat, and their operational capabilities are nowhere near as good as they should be, which will force them to interact more with other factions around the globe.