Vadim breathed out slowly, phone in hand. He would need to remain calm to explain the situation, a thing which was becoming increasingly harder the more he pushed his current form to the side.

With a touch of his claw, the quick call button for the captain’s quarters was pressed and he heard the phone begin beeping. He pressed the handset against his head, a bit more forcefully than needed. He noticed in passing how the sides of his head, too, were covered in a thick layer of down.

The phone rang, and Vadim waited. Time seemed to slow down as the officer waited for the ship’s master to answer. Finally, after a good thirty seconds, someone picked up on the other end of the line. He spoke up.

“Hello captain, this is the officer of the watch on the bridge. It’s nine o’clock in the morning, we are at anchor and there is no traffic. We have a situation.”

Vadim waited a couple dozen seconds, patiently awaiting an answer from the captain. The elderly Indian captain was usually much more diligent in answering any call from the bridge regardless of the hour, but all he could hear on the horn was some ragged breathing.

Before he could contemplate dropping the call, the captain finally spoke up with his telltale Indian accent.

“This is the captain. Can you repeat what is the problem?” The voice came slowly but the captain oddly didn’t sound tired. It sounded like he was cautious, maybe a bit alarmed.

“Sir, we are still at anchor, but there was some meteorological anomaly. Instruments are giving strange readings and...” Vadim hesitated. “There is more sir, something happened, I don’t think I can explain on the phone, can you come up to the bridge?”

There were a few more seconds before the line lit up with the captain’s voice.

“Vadim, I must know, are you, you?

“Sir, can you elaborate the question?” Even if he had an inkling of where the conversation was going.

“What I mean is, did something... abnormal happen to you?” There was a cautious edge in the tone of his voice.

Vadim hesitated again, should he come clear now? How much should he let on now on the phone? After another brief moment, he mustered another burst of his quickly diminishing reserve of courage.

“Yes sir.” He answered curtly.

“I am coming.” The captain answered, immediately getting off the phone.

Vadim dropped the phone. Now, he had seconds before being confronted in his bizarre status. What should he do? What would the captain think when he saw him like that?

Because, honestly, how do you explain to your boss that you just dropped dead an instant and the next you were some furry, feathery kind of beast? That’s not the kind of situation they train you for in simulators, at least not those in maritime academies.

The transformed Ukrainian elected to just stay seated for now and browsed the surroundings of the vessel on the chart, taking a particular interest in the nearby ports, particularly Zeebrugge, which was in the range of their transponder system. Even there, there wasn’t a single ship emitting inside the port, not even in the marina.

After a couple minutes, much longer than usual for the captain to get to the bridge, Vadim heard someone walking up the stairs that lead to the bridge. He didn’t dare turn around.

He heard someone work the mechanism of the heavy duty door a couple of meters behind him. Vadim gripped the edges of the console with both his claws. He could hear his heart beating at a rapid pace. His throat felt constricted.

The door opened and closed, but he still couldn’t get himself to even look back towards it. This was now or never, either the captain accepted the situation and all was fine or... he would see him like some savage animal and have him thrown overboard... or worse, his mind raced.

“Officer Zinovyia, situation report.” The captain’s voice rang out, though lacking its usual firmness and confidence.

Vadim finally got himself to turn around. And he gaped at the sight that awaited him. Right next to the door, was a large bipedal dog, standing with its arms crossed and wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a white shirt (visibly outstretched by the creatures’ bulk) which left little doubt as to whom it actually belonged considering the ranks of captain were displayed for all to see on its shoulders.

The “dog” was a bit shorter than a normal human would be, but that lack of size was widely compensated by its bulk that would make all save the most muscular humans look like wimps. It had short bronze coloured fur, with a lighter tan tone in certain areas like the neck and inner limbs. A visible lump in the back of its pants indicated that it did have a tail. Facially, it had a short muzzle than jutted out slightly in front of its face. On the sides of the muzzle were some shaggy bits of fur that looked like a moustache. The rest of its face looked like a mix of human and canine features, with the eyes being definitely human. Two large mobiles ears poked out of the top of its head, each with a tuft of fur at its base.

The creature was bare-footed, standing on the ball of its feet. The legs were noticeably shorter than a human, but its bulky arms on the other hand, were longer. Vadim spotted a golden watch wrapped around its left wrist, which he recognised as the captain’s (who had once boasted about its acquisition after a long stay in port in the Netherlands). At last, he finished inspecting the unknown but no quite unidentified being by taking note that its fingers, a bit shorter than those of a human, bore some stubby claws at their tips.

“Captain?” Vadim asked with a tremor of doubt in his voice.

The dog gave him a firm nod and walked up silently to the central console next to Vadim. He then sat down in the captain’s chair on Vadim’s side, still in complete silence.

“You know, if it weren’t for the jacket I wouldn’t have recognised you Vadim.” The captain spoke up quietly.

“You seem oddly calm about it sir. I would have thought you’d be more alarmed to wake up like this, which if I may say I didn’t expect.”

“I could give you the same remark.”

“Just stuffing it away for later sir, can’t afford to have a panic attack on the bridge like you always say.”

“And you will get your chance to fall apart once your watch is done. But I gather that you called me because of you... feather issue, correct?”

Vadim leaned back in his seat and turned his head away the captain and towards the chart screen. No other significant change had occurred since he had last checked it.

“Actually captain, that is not exactly why I called. Both issues are probably linked, but I can’t see how yet.” He waved a claw around, indicating the well lit windows of the bridge. “Do you notice anything out of place sir?”

The captain raised an eyebrow at that, an odd sight on the doglike face. He stared out to the horizon and suddenly appeared confused.

“It’s in the morning like you said on the phone. Nine o’clock as you said. Normally it should be Micha’s watch now unless you switched with him. Hold on a second.” The captain gaze a more attentive glance around. “Why isn’t there any ship around?”

“That’s the trouble sir; I didn’t switch watch with Micha. In fact, I still have two hours to go before the end of my watch.” Vadim pointed to the bridge clock behind the helm. “In fact, according to the ship’s time, it’s now two in the morning. But...” At that, he pointed a claw at the chart screen. “The GPS time check says that it’s actually past nine o’clock and the current pushing the ship right now corroborates that fact.”

The captain frowned, and stared cautiously at Vadim now.

“What is it you’re getting at now?”

“Well, the bridge recorder should support what I’m saying, but at about 01.25 today, there was some kind of magnetic storm, an anomaly of some kind, never seen anything like that before.” He gestured vaguely towards the radio console. “The antennas started to pick up some static on all waves. Started with the VHF, and ended with the lower frequencies. Weird thing is, the filter didn’t block it out. I went to check the antennas, which were fine by the way, and there was about 20 seconds give or take before the sky started to flash pink a couple times. There was an electric crackle too, sounded like someone was doing some arc-welding on the monkey bridge, but louder even.”

“And what happened after?”

“I blacked out sir. Woke up to the sound of the bridge alarm, it was about three minutes later. No trace of the anomaly, but no traces of any ship around us either, not even a single sailboat. And of course I had a beak too.” He punctuated the sentence by flicking the tip of his beak with his beak. Bad idea, he cringed, the sensation felt like tapping cutlery against your teeth.

The master gave him an odd look at the gesture but caught himself with a shake of his head. He asked Vadim if they had received any of the automated messages or if he had detected any radio chatter, both of which were a sound negative.

“For all I know sir, all conclusions seems to lead to the fact that we... well we moved ahead in time. That about the only thing I could draw a conclusion on, not that I would any idea about the “how”, or about the fact that moving ahead in time makes ships disappear and their crew turn into animals.” He halted himself. “Even drunk off my mind on the strongest kind of booze I couldn’t come up with that sort of bullshit.” He muttered.

“And I agree that if I weren’t a talking dog now right now, I’d have you pissing in a cup. Unfortunately, I can’t really say time travelling is the least believable thing at the moment. That and you’ve got the fact that Alejandro didn’t come to take your watch to back you up.”

“Hold on a second. I bring you all my arguments to support my point, and you choose to believe me not because of those, but because Alejandro wouldn’t miss his watch?” Vadim asked incredulously.

“Exactly.” The captain simply answered.

“Well, I did see him crawl his way to the bridge with 40 degrees of temperature once so I can’t exactly say you’re wrong but still, talk about trust sir, sheesh.” Vadim complained.

His only answer to that was a chuckle from the captain.

“Just pulling your leg there and quit calling me sir, that’s for the navy guys, we’re not military. Just call me by my name.”

“Dilip, then?” The captain nodded. “Alright, I just prefer sticking to procedure in situations like that if you understand. But now that it’s settled, what do we do?”

“First off, I’m gonna assume that everyone on board suffered the same fate as us. Seems like the most logical assumption, if there is any logic to this to begin with. Grab the mike for the PA system; I want to make an announcement. Wake everyone up and gather them behind the bridge so we can make a list of who’s what.”

Vadim pulled out said mike from a drawer under his seat and passed it to the captain, who plugged it in a socket on his station.

“Thinking of it now, before I make the announcement, I want you to stay on the bridge. You can listen in to what goes on from here, but we’re still at sea so you keep on with the anchor watch, got it?”

“Understood. Do you want a name list?”

“Yes please, and add a blank column so that I can write down what each person has turned into.”

“Here’s hoping that everyone has turned into something practical.” Vadim added, beginning to unstrap himself from his seat.

“What do you mean Vadim?”

“What I mean is you’re lucky you can walk. I tried getting up after the event, and it feels like I’m a quadruped now. Who knows how bad it can get, I just hope nobody winds up turned into something too inconvenient.” At the end of his sentence, he let himself fall off the side of his seat. He inelegantly stood up on shaky limbs. “I can stand if I find something to lean on, probably could do it without if I can get some training. Moving however? I tried out my legs and walking on two legs is outright impossible.” Then, he went to another side of the bridge where there was a computer and a printer in a corner next to the paper chart table. His pace was, of course, excruciatingly slow. “Now, just let me pull up the right excel sheet and you will have your list in a minute.”

Dilip looked at him quizzically; Vadim’s gait looked more like it belonged to a wounded horse than to his third officer.

“You sure you will be alright there? ‘cause you don’t look like you are.”

Vadim waved a claw dismissively, and then hoisted himself up with both claws to the computer station.

“Like I said earlier, I will just bottle it up for now, do my work, and finish my watch.” He gave the elder seafarer a pointed look. “Afterwards however, I feel like I may need a couple hours in my cabin and a bottle of vodka. Emotional breakdowns, those I only do in a dark corner on my own if you don’t mind.”

“As long as you’re sober by your next watch I won’t mind. I might need the same thing actually... not with vodka though.”

“Aye aye cap’ain.” Vadim booted up the computer. “Just a reminder, crew list, that’s in damage control procedure folder?”

“That’s the old one, take the one from the abandon ship folder instead, Alejandro updated it last week.” Dilip paused. “Avoid using that of the company, too cluttered, can’t do anything with it.”

“Will do, thanks.” Vadim said as he set to work.

On his side of the bridge, Dilip was trying to come up with what to tell on the PA. He tried to pinch his nose in frustration but instead gave himself a scratch on the upper side of his newly acquired muzzle.

Might as well go for it and make it up as he goes he told himself. Regardless of what he said someone would panic anyway. He pushed the button on the mike.

“Attention, attention, attention, all crewmembers.” He paused for three seconds. “This is captain Prateek, repeat, this is captain Prateek, be advised: the ship suffered from an unknown phenomenon. All crewmembers must report to the muster station on deck A, behind the bridge. The ship is not in danger; do not bring fire fighting equipment or life saving appliances.” Dilip stopped briefly to figure out how to continue. “Do not be alarmed if you are experiencing any... unprecedented change. Make your way to muster station 1 on deck A, do not panic, the situation will be... explained once the crew is assembled. Out.”

Dilip leaned back in his seat, feeling the touch of fur against his seat’s soft leather. Then he heard a small laugh behind it. He turned around.

“What?”

Vadim shook his head with a small smile on his beak (which made Dilip wonder how he could even do that, wasn’t a beak supposed to be hard? How could he even bend it to show facial expression was beyond him).

“It’s just... ‘do not be alarmed of any unprecedented change?’ For a moment it sounded like you were talking to pre-teens about puberty. I’m sorry, just trying to make light of a bad situation, not dissing your ability to give speeches.”

“You really are running short on nerves aren’t you? Don’t worry, no offense taken, but please work on that sense of humour.”

“Wilco to that.” Vadim fiddled a bit with the mouse on his computer. “Printing your list right now by the way.”

Suddenly, they both head an incredibly loud scream, followed by a disturbingly long succession of expletives in Russian.

“Someone’s angry...” Dilip commented.

“Meh, if I’m right and it’s Artyom, then that’s not even close to his best.” Vadim added. “You should have heard him scream at random machinery back on the Undine. Eh, this time he sounds genuinely pissed at least.”

“I’m starting to regret waking everyone at once...” The Indian muttered.

“Could be worse. I regret waking up to that shitfest at all. Still, better get ready captain, you’ve got an audience coming.”

“Watch the sarcasm boy, that was out of line.” The captain glared at his officer, who had the presence of mind to straighten up.

“Excuses sir, won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, it’d better not.” Dilip said, standing up and walking in the direction of the door that led outside to the back of the bridge, grabbing his list from the printer’s tray in passing. “While you’re keeping watch and I’m busy, try downloading the feed from the security cameras, I want to take a look at it later on. Priority to the outer cameras, got it?”

“Understood sir, good luck.”