“You’re not alone. You got me. I will help you, but you have to convince them to send a message to the Saxton that they are in danger.”

  She whirled around. “How! If you hadn’t noticed I’m locked up!”

  Travis looked away. “I don’t know. It would seem we are out of options.”

  She resumed pounding the door.

  *****

  The waves heaved and hurled the USS Saxton across twenty-five foot waves, while gale force winds blasted it from the north. Brad sat in his rack, his back up against the wall to try and stop the disorientation his brain was feeling and his stomach wanted to act on. The other beds were taken around him and people were even sitting on the deck. He couldn’t get Kevin’s discarded sketch from his mind. Giant crab like creatures clambering across a gray superstructure amongst towering waves. Was it just the young man’s active imagination? Or was it something more…

  He awkwardly got up, needing all his strength to be vertical against the slanted deck, and moved out into the passageway as someone quickly took his spot. All of the gray and cream colored passageways looked the same to him, so he kept moving through doors, until he found a seaman and asked where he might find doctor Reed. Soon he found himself descending a ladder into more of the maze of narrow spaces until he moved into the officers’ mess, a smaller version of where most ate.

  Denise was seated at one of the four tables, with others occupying the others. Around her were charts. She tapped away at a computer.

  “You got a minute,” he said to her as the bulkheads creaked and groaned. Some of her printouts started to slide to the floor, which he caught and pushed back on.

  “Yes, what is it,” she said without looking up from her screen.

  “I thought using computers was… unsafe or something.”

  “Only if they contain a modem. We haven’t quite regressed to using an abacus just yet. What is it? Are the group feeling okay?” She still kept her eyes on the bright screen.

  “Yes, they’re fine. But that’s partly what I want to talk about. Kevin drew something. A sketch which he tried to throw away but which I found… and I think it might mean something.”

  She continued typing. “Mean what.”

  “I got to say, it looked a lot like a ship being attacked by these robotic crab things…”

  “He draws lots of things Brad, you know that.”

  “Yeah but after drawing what the AI was building in the desert, I thought—”

  She looked up for the first time. “You’re worried that he saw the future?” Brad nodded. “Show me the sketch.”

  “I don’t have it…”

  She went back to typing. “It probably means nothing. The nanites don’t function particularly well in saltwater. We tested them and it slows down the neural link they have. That’s why our navy has been relatively unaffected. There’s still the danger of the AI getting into our networks via a transmission but we have taken measures to stop that from happening.” She looked at Brad and smiled. “Only another seven hours and we will be at Anchorage.”

  Brad slid a hand over his face then hair. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s easy to think there are monsters everywhere.” He got up.

  “The sea is the one place where we are relatively safe. Use that and try and get some rest.”

  He walked back to his section of the ship and rather than push the person who had taken his rack out, he instead pulled some blankets from a nearby drawer and tried to get as comfy as possible against a bulkhead.

  A deck below a young male officer heard the faintest of noises through his headphones. His eyes flicked to the dark screen in front of him but it wasn’t showing anything. He held his hand to one side of the phones.

  “You picking anything up Whitaker?” said warrant officer Fuller seated in the raised chair behind him.

  “It’s… I don’t know. Sonar’s not picking up any contacts, but I’m sure I heard something.” He shook his head. “Seems to be gone now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  A trashcan slid across the street, driven into the side of a red truck by the force of the storm. The world was a gray wall of stinging moisture as Mike pushed his chin into his chest while pulling his collar around his neck, and staggered forward against the sheets of rain. After being ejected from the docks, he tried to find boats big enough to withstand the surging waves and a captain brave enough to take their boat out, but the harbor and jetties were absent of people, and the only boats left were the pleasure kind.

  He accidentally kicked a fallen mailbox as he tried to see any refuge against the elements. A series of wooden buildings were across the street from him, with painted planks offering fresh crab and beer. A neon red sign glowed within his blurred view of his surroundings and he put his head down again and crossed the road. A wooden placard flipped and bounced towards him which he just managed to avoid as it sailed down the street, and he stepped up onto the sidewalk, grabbing hold of a metal pole. With a heave he launched himself into an enclave between the buildings, and with the momentum he had captured crashed into the front door of the bar, forcing it open in one movement.

  He bent over trying to capture his breath.

  “Close the damn door!” shouted an elderly man from inside the establishment.

  Mike went to turn to do so when a middle-aged woman with a towel over her shoulder moved past him and pushed the door closed. She gave him a passing look as she walked back to the bar, which sat like an island in the middle of the predominantly wooden interior.

  “I need to use your phone,” Mike croaked in the woman’s direction.

  “No phones work here pal,” said another man.

  “We’ve been cut off for days,” said the female bartender. “You want something to drink?”

  Yes he did. He wanted to grab one of the bronze colored bottles from behind the bar and crawl into a dark corner, where there was no AI, or death, past or present. “No.” The woman frowned and started to clean another glass.

  He shuffled forward and sat on a stool. The grizzled men either side of him paid him no heed, the inside of their glass’s being of more interest.

  One of them placed his glass down. “Thanks Marge. Hopefully I can get across the border before they close it.” He got to his feet.

  The woman looked and smiled. “I’ll keep the tab open.” He smiled with a nod and turned.

  The man’s words finally hit home in Mike’s brain.

  Border…

  He looked at the older unshaven man, with baseball cap and thick winter jacket. “You going north?”

  The man looked at him, silently judging then nodded. “Yeah…”

  “Want some company?”

  *****

  Denise was alone. The officers that were eating on the other tables had left and she was happy to be able to concentrate on the statistical analysis on her laptop’s screen. Her brain was telling her the surface it was sitting on was slanted but she didn’t care. She had managed to block out the noises the metal structure around her made constantly and as far as she knew, she could have been anywhere, doing her work. Definitely not within the bowls of a warship in the North Atlantic which was being tossed around like a toy.

  She hoped Brad was sleeping. She was glad he was with them, but he looked tired and she was going to need him in on his game once they stepped off the gangway and onto Alaskan soil. As far as she knew their ace card was maybe ten hours behind on another naval vessel. At least that was the plan. It wouldn’t be long after getting to Anchorage, that she would know if Alexis was on her way, and if the misdirection had worked. The winter was kicking in hard so she had been told up there and the military installation in the mountains roughly a hundred miles north of their destination was now fully operational. A base to mount a defense against the AI. A place she could breathe again.

  A clunk heralded someone was about to enter the offices mess, and she sighed and looked back at her work.

  The door swung back and Cary ducked and entered the room. “There you are.” He threw a hand to a bulkhead to stop himself from falling into it. “I don’t know how they get used to it.” She noticed two armed soldiers outside just before the door was closed and sealed.

  “I would have thought as a pilot, you would be used to being thrown around.”

  He walked to the coffee machine and picked up the pot, sniffing it. “Different kind of motion.” He turned around. “Coffee?”

  She shook her head, regretting the movement.

  He placed the pot back in the machine and turned it on. “How’s the research—”

  A buzzing noise came from an old looking phone handset attached to the wall. They both looked at each other.

  “Think that might be for one of us,” said Cary. The deck slanted again and coffee spilled over the edge of the pot. Ignoring it, he walked best he could to the handset and put it to his ear. “General Bell here.” His eyes locked with Denise’s.

  “What?” she said.

  “I’ll be right there.” He placed the receiver back on the wall and walked towards the door. “Sonar is picking up sub-surface contacts.”

  “How many?”

  “Lots.”

  She slammed closed her laptop, grabbed it, and with the general moved out of the mess. With the guards leading the way they quickly moved to the CIC, where Warner was waiting.

  The commander was studying a bright neon screen which zagged lines. He shook his head. “I don’t think those are biologics.”

  Denise looked confused.

  “Whales etc,” whispered Cary to her.

  Warner looked at the young man seated in front of him with headphones. “Acoustics?”

  OS Mitchel nodded. “Getting strong returns… could be some form of prop… none that I recognize though.”

  “Sir, I’m getting a transmission from the Towning,” said a nearby seated officer.

  Warner looked surprised. “Is it authenticated?”

  “It is, sir.”

  “So much for EMCON,” said Warner. “What does it—”

  “The signals are growing in strength,” said the sonar operator. “Definitely picking up some kind of propulsion system.”

  Warner looked at the young officer. “How far out?”

  “Twelve contacts, maybe ten miles. Bearing south by southwest… and closing fast.”

  “Directly behind us,” said Cary.

  Warner flicked his head back to the comms officer. “Message?”

  “USS Saxton, you are in immediate danger from subsurface AI attack. Please confirm receipt of message.”

  “General quarters!” shouted Warner. A siren blared around the ship and Denise was sure she could hear boots pounding the metal decks around her, along with hatches and compartments being closed and secured. “Tell them we got the message.” He then picked up a nearby handset. “Engine room. Ahead full.” He turned to Denise and Cary. “Whatever they are, let’s see if we can outrun them.” He switched his attention to his XO. “Essie, I got to get up to the bridge.” She nodded, and he quickly left.

  “Mitchel, does their signature match anything?” said Essie.

  He shook his head. “Nothing’s coming up.”

  “How far are they now?”

  “Eight miles…”

  “That’s… impossible, they’re moving faster than a torpedo.” She looked at Denise and Cary. “Guess that confirms the Towning’s message. Any idea what they could be?”

  Cary looked at Denise who swallowed, then shook her head.

  “Well, at the speed they’re approaching, we’re soon going to find out.”

  Warners voice came across the speakers in the room. “It’s pretty rough up here.”

  “I estimate they will be on us in around six minutes,” said Essie into her handset. “Within torpedo range in two.”

  “Load torpedo’s two and four,” said Warner. “And get the CIWS prepped for firing,” said Warner from the bridge.

  “Seven miles,” said Mitchel.

  “CIWS is going to find it hard to track,” said Essie to the commander.

  “We might get lucky,” he replied.

  “Torpedo’s armed and ready,” said a nearby seamen at a station.

  “Fire,” said Warner.

  “Torpedo two away… Torpedo four away. Running good.”

  The only sound inside the confined room was heartbeats in people’s ears and the ping of sonar.

  “Detonation for torpedo two… and four.”

  “Tell me we killed something,” said Essie.

  “Err…” Mitchel murmured under his breath.

  “Well?”

  “Still picking up eight contacts. Bearing south, six miles.”

  “Load the rest of the torpedos and fire immediately!” said Warner over the comms.

  “All torpedos loaded… launched and running free.”

  “Come on…” said Cary under his breath.

  “Multiple detonations…” said Mitchel and everyone in the compact room waited. “There are still three contacts and…” He looked at his scope. “They… this doesn’t make sense…”

  Essie moved to his station. “They’re huge…” She picked up the handset. “Three minutes out.”

  There was a pause at the other end then the commander spoke. “General we are still too far out from Anchorage, but the Seahawk can get you to the coast. You and doctor Reed. You need to get to the afterdeck immediately. The marines stationed in the CIC will get you there.”

  The watertight door opened and two heavily armed soldiers appeared. Denise shook her head. “No, I can’t leave the others on the ship! There must be a way to—”

  “Two minutes out,” said Mitchel.

  “Go now!” said Essie. She looked at the marines. “Get them to the flight deck!”

  Before anymore words left Denise’s mouth she was pulled back and through the door and it was sealed behind her. She jogged forward along the passageway, her feet doing their best to keep her walking in a straight line as the deck was slanted at a thirty-degree angle. She pushed off the nearest soldier who had hold of her arm and looked at Cary behind her. “We have to bring Constance, Kevin and Brad!”

  “We have to go, sir,” said the marine to Cary.

  “Cary! Please!”

  He looked at the soldier. “Can you put out a call to get them to the flight deck?”

  The soldier nodded and spoke into his radio, while dragging them both along the passageway, and then up a ladder, through a hatch and more ladders. As they rose higher in the ship, the fury of the weather beyond the metal structure became audible to them all. They made it to the main deck and ran through passageways eventually emerging into a large room with a single exit, and five seaman inside, who immediately ran towards Cary and Denise with rubber suits. A crash of waves boomed outside.

  “Put this on, it’s an ocean survival suit in case you end up in the water!” A woman said to Denise. She looked around. “Where are the others? They need to be with us!”

  Cary stepped into his suit. “The call went out Denise, there’s nothing else we can do.”

  “No. You don’t understand, we need them! We have too—” The woman forced her legs and body into another of the suits. Once in they were fully zipped up and life jackets were placed over their heads. The door to the Helo deck was opened and a heavy spray of water hit the marine who was standing in the opening.

  He looked back. “We have to go now!”

  The other marine pulled Denise towards the exit. “Now ma’am.”

  She got to the door and looked out into a mass of gray swirls, somewhere within which was the helicopter. Then she noticed the blades slicing through the torrents of water from the heavens and below. As the soldier pulled her over the lip of the door, she looked back at the seamen but no sign of Brad and the others. She tried to hold onto the frame of the door, but the marine pulled her free and forced her forward, pushing her to run towards the chopper when something slammed into the front of the ship, knocking everyone off their feet. The deck’s slant became even more pronounced and Denise started sliding, a wave of water pulling her down towards the edge and the mountainous rolling waves. Panicking she flailed with her arms trying to grip onto something and just caught a guard rail, jarring her as her feet dangled off the edge. She looked back. The helicopter had lifted off the deck by a few feet, trying to stay level while hovering. Another wave crashed over her and she felt herself slip, just as a strong hand pulled her back to the deck, and then onto her feet.

  “Come on!” shouted the marine.

  As she staggered towards the helicopter, the deck tilted even more causing her to lean into it to remain upright and she suddenly became aware, beyond the sound of crashing waves, was metal being bent, twisted and crumpled. The marine pushed her forward, while shouts came from behind, and she spun around. Brad staggered forward, trying to keep upright, while holding Constance who was holding onto Kevin.

  “No, wait!” Denise shouted to the soldier near her. His reply was to lift her up and she was grabbed and pulled higher, while he ran back and helped Brad and the other two move closer. Something out of the corner of her blurred vision was crying out for attention, and she lifted her view from the deck to the rest of the ship, which was almost lost in a haze of waves and sheets of rain. A thing was attached to the side of the hull. At first she thought it was another naval vessel or machinery of some kind, but then a gust cleared the rain for a split second and she saw what could only be described as a giant robotic crab.

  “We have to go!” came from somewhere in the cabin around her. Constance’s hand, then head appeared and she was pulled inside, followed by Kevin then Brad, but Denise watched as the robot climbed higher, a pincher the size of sedan tearing through the side of the ship which was now listing to one side. Within the haze of particles of water, gunfire pinged off the huge artificial crustacean, but it continued its destruction, digging into the top decks.

  The helicopter lifted higher and they could all see this other worldly machine was not alone. The ship was being torn apart.