The trawler pierced the clouds over P’Vadi, its aging boosters groaning as the bulky vehicle trundled through the clouds. The planet below was tidally locked, coated in a plating of ice apart from one section that faced the nearest star; this opening, nearly eight thousand kilometres in diameter, was nothing but thrashing ocean. Descending into P’Vadi’s orbit, the world had looked like a giant eyeball. “Here we are,” sighed Calloway. She opened the craft’s panel door as it gained stability, hovering in place above the waves. Heavy rain lashed against the steelwork and pawed through the opening. Adwin Corby thanked Calloway with a bob of his head and a weak smile, hoping that his middle-aged sister Wynna would have no further questions. “And how long did you say you could give us, captain?” she asked on cue, pulling the hood of her diving suit over her greying roots. Calloway cast a glance out the opening, wincing at the sharp gale blowing in. “I’d say an hour, maximum. The weather isn’t much of an issue for the craft, but as I said back on the port, this isn’t a listed zone for fishing. We’re breaking all sorts of regulations just being here.” “We aren’t here for fishing,” replied Wynna, “Just diving.” “As you say.” Cautiously approaching the edge, Adwin pulled on the last piece of his apparatus, the stinger; it was a portable electrode outlet for defence against hostile wildlife. The captain, Calloway, had recommended they all pick one up before swimming on any unregistered planet, with Wynna arguing that she had never required one in her decades of experience in off-world diving. The distance to the sea below wasn’t too great now, but it would feel worse dropping in harnesses and full gear, like blocks of lead. Accompanying the pair was their old family friend, Reid Dubourg, and he joined Adwin at the brink. “This the biggest dive you’ve made to date?” “Certainly is,” mumbled Adwin. He felt as if he were too old for his stomach to be tying itself in knots. “We’ll be perfectly safe,” said Wynna from behind them. “This is meant to be a treat, remember? I’ve transferred the funds to the crew now.” Adwin looked to Reid and chuckled, “Not quite what mum would have had us spend her money on.” “No?” Wynna snapped. “And I suppose if it were up to you, Adwin, that money would be left festering in a savings account somewhere? C’mon, let’s go,” she smiled warmly then, clasping his arm. “We’re seeing new sights on other worlds, and you’re diving again! Mum would have been thrilled. God rest her.” Taking a final minute to recheck their gear, the three lined up and, one by one, made the plunge into the choppy grey waters of P’Vadi. The waters swallowed them whole, encasing them in a vast shadowy pocket through which little could be seen. Adwin twisted the stem of his torch, lighting a few feet ahead of him. Suspended in the gloom of an alien world, he could make out the faint shapes of Reid and Wynna; they waved in slow motion. He imagined they were calling over, but the only sounds he could hear were that of his own laboured breathing, and the water lapping around him. Wynna raised her thumb, eager to go on. When Adwin returned the gesture, she led the way. She was forever checking on her older brother, knowing how much confidence he had lost as a diver in recent years; there and then, he contemplated how much he appreciated it, simultaneously being annoyed by Wynna’s mollycoddling nature. Adwin paddled along behind, taking broad strokes as his eyes searched the clouded waters for signs of life. A long call like the song of an Earth whale unfolded across the ocean floor; however deep beneath that was, Adwin could not guess. He breathed harder, trying to put his mind to the task in hand. The waters blackened mere feet below them. “Where’s all the fish, anyway?” Adwin felt himself say in his throat, his mouth wrapped around the breather. Shredded plant strands were all that drifted by in the murk. There were no curious shoals to greet the ice world’s visitors, no exotic reefs; merely leagues of bland, dead ocean. His muscles aching, Adwin strained to pull himself through the thick waters. As he caught up to where Wynna and Reid floated, waiting for him again, Adwin witnessed a thick dark shape, solid like the trunk of a great tree, rise from the seabed. It threw its weight towards them with a fierce velocity, the blackened form growing as it neared. Struggling to alert the others, all Adwin could do was thrash frantically upwards, searching for the surface. Looking back over, eyes wide in terror, he saw his fellow divers recoil. Wynna had thrown up her hands in defence, and then she disappeared. Her form was replaced by a wall of darkness. Through his steamed visor, Adwin could see even less. He grasped at the ocean in desperation, imagining whatever was down there to be lurking just at his legs, waiting to drag him to a watery grave. The bleak morning air met his face at last. He peeled the gear from his head and panted, searching in all directions. The waves were crashing all around, rocking with tremendous force. Adwin’s hand found the grip for the stinger attached to his forearm, preparing to send a jolt into anything that dared rear its head. A thunderous shriek then shook the very planet to its core. Adwin spun to see a column strike at the sky from below the tides, slick black leather for a hide and a bulbous, heart-shaped head sitting atop the thick body. The creature loomed over him, over a hundred feet in the air, eyes larger than Adwin himself. Crooked fangs burst from torn jaws too small to contain them. Whether or not the serpent caught sight of him, it wriggled into the ocean and sent a wave crashing across Adwin. He flailed, struggling to recover, and gasping for breath as water flooded every one of his senses. About a mile in the opposite direction sat the trawler, a frightened Calloway hanging at the door. She desperately barked an order at her pilot and the craft shuffled towards Adwin’s position. Lowering dangerously close to the waves, she yanked him out with one tattooed arm, the diver frozen in shock. The weightlessness of the ocean slunk from his body instantly, leaving his weak, jittering frame holding up several pounds of diving gear. “Where are your friends?” yelled Calloway. She had him by the collar. With that, they heard a second shrill cry, this time that of a man’s voice. Reid. Grunting, Adwin threw down the excess weight and dived once more into the drink. He ignored the pain as his pulsing arms tore at the waves, propelling him over to Reid who was splashing helplessly; they embraced for a moment, panting, the desolate open seas reaching out around them in all directions. Snapping back to reality, Adwin slapped Reid on the back and bid him to go ahead. Calloway had her crew bring the trawler slightly closer, the sight of her seeming to spur Reid on to greater strength. Swimming ahead, he was soon hauled aboard swiftly by the captain. Adwin paused, feeling a rushing current about his legs. A powerful force was working its way up from the seabed. His lungs begged for mercy. He heard the others cry out to him. A wide dark shape was forming underneath, growing more prominent with every passing second. Adwin resumed paddling the breaststroke, maintaining visual contact with those on the trawler. “Wynna,” he spluttered absently through mouthfuls of salt water. “I’m sorry.”
...
From the craft, Calloway watched the serpent emerge again. The creature catapulted itself from the watery depths beneath Adwin, thrashing its pointed head around at the peak of its ascent. Its wide, fleshy mouth fanned outwards, doubling in size. A blood-curdling screech filled the air, a battle cry that erupted from the primordial innards of the leviathan. “Go, now!” Calloway hauled the panel door shut, watching the grinning serpent casually slink back into P’Vadi’s ocean. The remaining diver was huddled on the chair opposite her, wrapped in a towel. He wept uncontrollably, but there was nothing Calloway could bring herself to say that would help. She pushed on the cockpit door, the pilot Cyne turning in his seat. “What the hell was that?” he yelled. “I’ve… I’ve no idea,” Calloway said, resigned. She pulled out her handheld, head in a daze. On screen, a notification informed her that the Corby’s money had indeed transferred to her bank account. “I’m guessing they paid us for this already?” Cyne asked, pulling the trawler back into the clouds. “Yup.” “What are we going to do with the money, then?” “I don’t know, Cyne,” Calloway scratched at her chin, “Get a colossal net, maybe.”
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