Le Requin-Marteau

It was the year 3081 and the entirety of the Earth was covered in water, the result of the imprudent decision to mine the moon. Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and changes in the planets geomagnetic field were the least of humanities worries when water levels soon began to rise feet by feet each day, whilst oxygen levels rapidly deteriorated. Soon the Earth was completely submerged just as it had been in its beginning, over three billion years ago. Some ventured into space in an attempt to colonize Mars and Galileo, but were wiped out by alien races who did not approve of humans venturing outside of their domain. A race ensued, countries gathering their brightest and putting all their resources towards building oceanic stations, the only hope for the continuance of humanity. Surviving within the oceans was the only avenue humans had left.

*

The lights once again flickered abroad the Requin-Marteau Station, filling its inhabitants with unease. The oceanic station originating from France; requin-marteau translating to hammerhead shark. Aptly named and designed after one of the most majestic creatures to inhabit the Earth, whose rare appearance was revered as a sign of good fortune. The Requin-Marteau was one of only fourteen oceanic stations left, the others having been destroyed due to war, lack of resources, or simply deteriorating into oblivion.

“Here we go again.” Beryl rolled her eyes as the station temporarily went dark, the familiar hum of the reactor waning, leaving a daunting silence. The emergency air system came on, the electrolysis process ordinarily utilized for the creation of oxygen dependent upon the station’s power grid. A set of standby lights flashed on, dimly lighting the expansive corridors. “This is becoming absurd. They really need to get this fixed.”

“What if it’s not a simple fix?” Caspian breathed. “It’s been going on for weeks and seems to be getting more frequent.”

Beryl smirked. “The Requin has been around for ages, it’s invincible. Plus, they’d tell us if it was something serious.”

“Yeah, I just sometimes wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

“What if something is attacking the ship?”

“We are shaped as a hammerhead. What would attack a shark?”

“Pieuvregens.”

Beryl laughed. “Caspian, you almost made me spit out my plankton juice.”

“Good day.” Captain Jacques nodded as he passed. Caspian surveyed the captain venturing into a shadowy antechamber. His flowing blonde hair and adamantine uniform sparkling in faultlessness. Beryl beamed, Caspian attempting to hide his disapproval. He didn’t quite like the captain as of late, despite the majority of the ship seemingly gaga for him. There was something that twinkled behind his eye, a hint that danced within his voice that made Caspian leery.

The reactor powered back on, light flooding the interior, steel doors automatically opening, people resuming their activities. Caspian reported to his post in the sonar department, watching the screens with jaded interest. He’d worked there for years and there’d been little activity up until the past month. Yet every time he’d report it, his commander told him it was a glitch in the equipment and not to worry. Wars had ended fifty years ago, the few humans left, content on staying on their sides of the ocean and avoiding anymore bloodshed. Leaving Caspian to wonder what the point of his position truly was.

His mind wondered to the tale of the Pieuvregens he’d been told growing up. An incredibly intelligent species that had lived in the deep sea for millions of years, already having developed advanced civilizations before humans even existed. The commanders had always warned them that they were incredibly dangerous and would take over ships and enslave humanity. Which was why it was so important that each individual dedicated their full attention to all lessons and functioned with exceptional rigor. This tale had been passed down for over a hundred years, being seen as a mere fairytale to encourage responsible behavior and work ethic, yet Caspian was starting to doubt the fictionality of the mythos.

Six months ago, he had been in the radar room on a night of tumultuous weather when a bizarre object appeared on one of the monitors. Upon zooming in, there seemed to be a huge colony of octopi advancing straight towards the ship, moving in unnatural ways. For them to be advancing towards what looked like an immense hammerhead shark in a militaristic manner with no sense of retreat was completely out of behavior. He had radioed Commander Goudeau in a panic.

Goudeau, usually enamored by any blip that came across, was unusually calm. He’d attempted to persuade Caspian that a hurricane above, instigating vigorous currents up to 300 feet below, had somehow tricked the sensors into showing false images. This was highly contradictory schematics to everything he had previously been taught. He knew Goudeau was swindling him. What exactly the commander was trying to coverup, he was unsure, but he was convinced that something uncouth was afoot.

The steel door to the radar room glided open, Goudeau entering as the door automatically slid back down. “I trust you had a smooth shift?”

“Yes commander.”

“I am here to relieve you. Lassalle will not be able to make his shift.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Caspian prodded, his gut telling him that something was awry. Several had fallen ill the last few days, ending up in the medical ward with no one hearing more from them. Visitors strictly forbidden.

Goudeau shrugged. “Probably a small virus. I’m sure he’ll be back to work soon.”

Caspian shivered. The same malicious coldness he had recognized in the captain enveloped his commander, a nefarious glimmer in his eye. He bode him farewell before making a beeline towards Lasalle’s quarters.

He caught Lasalle’s bunkmate Finley returning from picking up his weekly nutrition ration.

“How’s Lasalle?”

“I’m not sure. They took him to the ward earlier.”

“What was wrong with him?”

“Nothing that I saw. My guess is something’s going around and they’re trying to keep those exposed quarantined.”

“Why haven’t you been isolated then?”

“I..” A familiar gleam of peculiarity philandered in his eyes. “Don’t know. I got a lot of stuff to do.” He put his finger to the reader, revealing an empty ship-shape room. Caspian stood in the hall, unease and confusion hammering his thoughts.

Navigating the ship’s complex corridors, he made it to the grand foyer. A large elegant engraving of a hammerhead shark shimmering across the span of the floor, Requin-Marteau Station 2053 etched alongside it. He turned down the hallway leading to the medical bays. The electronic display flashed, “MEDICAL WARD CURRENTLY OFF LIMITS.” He clenched his fists persisting forward in defiance of the warning.

The nurses’ station was deserted, the antechambers suspiciously soundless. The vestibule behind the station was manually fixed to the open position. He crept inside, his eyes and ears on full alert. Rushing to one of the computers, he was relived that it hadn’t fell back to the password screen since its last use. The emblem of the hammerhead shark emanated from the dim glow of the screen; the various computer applications dispersed around its mass. He clicked on various items, scrolling through unfamiliar codes and terminologies, before inserting his flash drive. Downloading a few curious files before deciding his time was up. He shoved the drive in his pocket and hightailed down the corridor.

“Hey stop right there!” Caspian recognized Martsolf from his phycology class.

“Oh, hey Martsolf. How you been?”

“You can’t be here. Wards closed to all nonmedical personal.”

“Well can you tell me what’s going on?”

Martsolf shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I’m just following orders.”

“Look, Lasalle was taken in earlier today. Did you happen to see him?”

“Is there a problem here?” Captain Jacques rounded the corner, an eyebrow raised at Caspian.

“No sir.” Martsolf replied. I was just telling Caspian the area was off limits.

“I assure that Caspian can read. Surely you must have seen the alert in the exterior corridors?”

“Yes Captain, it’s just that-”

“You are well versed in what happens to those who defy the order and safety of the Requin?”

“Yes I-”

“I will escort him out of the cordoned area.” The captain scowled at Martsolf as he placed a firm grip around Caspian’s arm. “I assume you’ll be able to take care of things from here out?”

“Yes Captain.” Martsolf grimaced. Whether at the reprimand or his disapproval of the situation, Caspian was unsure.

He was marched back to the main foyer, the captain roughhousing him the entirety of the walk. “You’ll do best to mind your own business, follow orders, and do not question them.”

“Something sinister is occurring on this ship. I’m not just going to stand by and let it happen.”

The captain laughed. “You are an extremely paranoid person. What exactly do you think is happening?”

“People are disappearing for days. No one is telling the truth about how they are ending up in the med bay. People are changing every day. Commander Goudeau, Finley, even you. When you were elected you were approachable, kindhearted, cared about the ship.”

“Did I? Strange what people may pretend to be to get what they desire.”

Caspian shook his head. “No, you are not Jacques. You are a Pieuvregen!”

The captain’s eyes widened, his skin paling momentarily before he burst into a fit of laughter. “You have lost your mind. Best keep such nonsense to yourself, or you might find yourself in the psyche ward.”

“Laugh all you want, but I know the truth, and I will expose you.”

The captain’s expression turned stone cold before he viscously pushed Caspian against the wall, pinning him where he settled. “And who would believe you?” He hissed. “All will think you preposterous. You’ve no evidence, no substantiation.” He locked eyes with him. “This is a war we’ve already won. These are our oceans. Your objection is futile.”

Caspian shivered. The confirmation of what he he’d known deep down more distressing than he’d imagined. A group of women appeared in the main foyer. Jacques winked at Caspian before descending down a high security corridor. Acquiring his breath, he ran towards Beryl’s quarters. Reaching her door he knocked profusely, his anxiety rising.

“Caspian?” Beryl opened the door wearing the standard silver pajamas that bore a small hammerhead across the left chest.

“I need your help!” Caspian pushed inside. “Our ship is being destroyed from within!”

“Calm down. You’re not making any sense.”

“Listen to me Beryl. I’m not joking. The ship has been taken over by Pieuvergens.”

She smiled. “Caspian, you came at this hour just to prank me. If you wanted to hang-”

“Beryl! Look. Look at this!” He shoved the flash drive into her hand. She met Caspian’s eyes, his seriousness striking her. She brought up the files.

“Oh my-”

“What?”

“Caspian you’re right. Every person who was admitted to med was rh-null blood. The notes here are in a foreign language but seem closely related to Portuguese. Loosely translated it is saying that they are able to take over the bodies of those with the ‘golden’ blood."

“Rh-null? That’s half the people on this ship!”

“What do they plan to do with the rest of us?”

“I don’t know. Something worse than death. They could have already ended us.”

“Slavery? In the tales they captured other species to serve them.”

Caspian quivered. “We won’t let them win.”

“How can we possibly have any chance against them?”

“We will figure out a way, or we will die trying. We will not submit.”

Caspian strode over to the porthole, looking out into the deep endless ocean. His eyes diverted to a shining regal creature swimming to the right.

“Beryl, look!” They watched as the shark glid seamlessly throughout the mystifying waters. The Requin made in its image floating alongside, exhibiting its strength, prowess, and resilience. Caspian hoped what was left of the ships inner contents held the same fight and fortitude of the animal it emulated. He whispered, “Never stop swimming."