An Encounter At Sea [FICTOID]

The commodore stood with his legs planted a shoulders’ width apart on the flying bridge of the S.S. Wisteria.  They’d been sailing for a fortnight on a secret mission, one of such delicacy that the government dare not use one of its own naval vessels but hired out a commercial steamer.

That’s an indictment of the whole rotten system, the commodore thought.  Mix a smidge of cowardice with a spoonful of sugar, swallow it down, and the next thing you know you’re willing to hang priests from the steeples.

He shook his head, thinking of the report he longed to make, the report he’d never make because, despite his innate honor, he remained a team player.

The sonar assistant came up on deck and saluted.  “We’re picking up something in the water,” he said.

“Seals?” asked the commodore (they’d had problems with false readings before).

“Not exactly,” said the sonar operator.  “Come take a look, sir.  Please.”

The commodore followed him below decks.  The sonar equipment stood tall in a massive electronic helix.  The sonar operator pointed to the screen.

It displayed images of…things swirling about nearly a kilometer down.

“How big are they?” the commodore asked.

“Each is about the size of a full grown human.”

“Are they communicating?”

The sonar operator shrugged.  “Hard to say.  With each other?  Probably.  With us?  No.”

Without warning the screen showed the strange objects suddenly swimming straight up to the Wisteria.

“Should we call the calvary?” the sonar operator asked.

“Why?” said the commodore fatalistically.  “We’re the navy.”

© Buzz Dixon