Still On Patrol...

It's been a long time since our sub last reported in to HQ.

Seafarers are a superstitious lot, always have been. Sometimes I wonder; did we always know what was out there? Even before It was discovered, and shrouded in so much secrecy that even Heads of State aren't told, did some animal instinct left over from our early ancestors tell us that there was something out there to be feared? Something that saw us as prey; something eternal, and other, and dangerous.

Something that we couldn't kill, only keep at bay for as long as possible.

We don't lose ships as often anymore - not like we did before, when there was barely an inch of ocean floor that didn't boast at least one shipwreck. Heck, some parts of the sea had their own man-made reefs, the bones of vessals long-sunk piled high enough to pose risk to new ships. That's rare now, and the lessened risk makes people less wary.

Less wary of danger, and quicker to forget why we feared in the first place.

In some ways, it's good that people are beginning to forget. It's fear that gives Them their power, after all. Centuries of mortal fears of what lies beneath the waves is no easy thing to combat, and forgetting carries it's own dangers, but it is a step.

Now, we have protection against the things that lurk in the deep.

Submarines go missing, sometimes.

Lost at sea like countless other vessels before them. We don't call them lost, though. Instead, any submarine that fails to return is considered 'still on patrol'.

The rationale behind that choice has been lost, if it was ever known to begin with. Orders came down from On High years ago, and tradition has never had to make sense in order to be followed. Quite the opposite, in fact. The more nonsensical a tradition, the harder its followers cling to it.

Your average civilian has no idea why the missing submarines are treated as alive and active. Wouldn't it mean more to the families of those missing if they were declared dead after a suitable period? What is the use in pretending?

Ah, foolish child. There is all the use in the world. Belief in the face of all odds is one of humankind's greatest strengths.

Flesh can decay. Bones turn to dust. Life can be snuffed out like a candle. Belief is immortal, and an idea is impossible to kill.

"Still on Patrol", as if the mission will one day end. As if the missing will return, out of nowhere. As if they are still out there, able to sense the prayers and hear radio calls.

Still On Patrol, and treated as such, included in the holiday hails sent out to all ships and subs who can't be home for Christmas, fond wishes and a promise to see them when they return.

It's a powerful symbolism, more powerful than even those who once knew what they were doing could have guessed.

Belief is everything.

Belief that the submarines listed as Still On Patrol are still out there, and that they wil return once the mission is done. Belief that they are not dead, but fighting the good fight. Belief that they as long as they are remembered, they cannot die.

The last tinny notes of a message hang in the stale air of the cabin, lingering in ears and hearts that cling to them like a verbal liferaft. Ageless hand tremble, ever so slightly, as they reach out to turn off the radio. A moment of silence, remembering those who wait ashore, reaffirming our humanity, before the crew turn back to their duties.

The Things that Lurk in the Deep have something standing in their way, now. Something that won't let them surface and attack the human world without a fight. Fight they have, and do, and will for some time yet to come.

But now, it is a fight that they lose, and will keep losing for as long as those Still On Patrol are there to stand in their way.

An alarm blares, and the Captain holds the words of rememberence deep in what remains of their soul. Then they snap to attention. "All hands, to your battlestations!"

Still On Patrol. Still out there. Still fighting.

And so they will remain.

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