A song fills the halls of the Narwhal. Long and hollering, it makes the chest vibrate as it rises and falls like the tides. There’s a light scuffling sound running along the submarine’s hull. Julia, settled just outside, hums her song, caressing the ship. But this is not a tender embrace exchanged in love. Julia’s song grows louder, more discordant, and the light touches along the skin turn to clamorous bangs as the creature slams against the ship.

Those inside have no choice but to ride out the storm of the sea monster’s assault. When it does finally end, Julia does not slink off into the inky black water beyond; she remains. Though they have no means with which to see her, they can still hear the bizarre and unnatural murmurations of the water she displaces as she circles the submarine. She’s come to stay now, but for what reason those inside care not to guess. The ardor to think critically, analyze, and form hypotheses, to be a scientist, is now dissolved into the ocean around them.

More are ill now. Nausea, exhaustion, dizziness, headache: some, the symptoms of radiation poisoning, some the manifestation of insomnia. Just to stand and make to the bathroom is a journey and to think of eating is impossible. Elina, Piper, James, Ernie, and a dozen crew members stay in bed through lunch and even among those who are up and about, very few decide to eat.

Lewis and Charlie are among the handful who try to get more food into their stomachs. The rationing makes the slight itch of hunger ever-present, but now it battles with the body’s attempts to push out anything but water.

Lewis is standing beside the refrigerator behind the mess hall’s counter, eyes closed, taking deep breaths as Charlie stumbles into the room, still trying to regain her balance after Julia rocked the ship; not an easy thing to do when her legs feel like jelly. She rights herself in the door frame and approaches the counter. Lewis turns to her as she leans against a chair. He stands up just a little bit straighter when he notices someone else is with him and appears to will some of his own sickness away in the name of taking the visage of the strong leader. But his skin is pale and sweaty. Between the sleepless nights and the now undeniable radiation leak, he’s just like everybody else: barely holding on.

He cracks a thin smile. “Gonna have a go at this with me?”

Charlie nods. “They’re puking their brains out in there, but I think I’m okay for now. You?”

“You’re tough. We’ll eat together, come Hell or highwater.”

Charlie chuckles, but it’s a forced laugh, hoarse and without joy.

The pair manage to force down half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich each before they have to call it quits. Lewis stands up and carries the dishes to the sink. He stands over it for a moment, unmoving. He catches his breath, the simple trek across the room having sent his head spinning. For a moment, he feels as if the tiny meal won’t stay down, but he bites his lip, pulls back his composure, and washes the plates. When he’s finished, he nods to Charlie--a nod of camaraderie between two people who’ve just undertaken some great mission together--and makes his way back up to the control room, taking each step like a tortoise.

Charlie in the meantime retires to the bunk room. It smells of vomit, and she’s not sure if that’s just the breath of those around her or if someone, or multiple someones, couldn’t make it to the bathroom. She isn’t bothered by it, she doesn’t care, can’t care. Just caring is hard.

Hours pass, Charlie stares at the ceiling above her. The sickness ebbs. It comes and goes in waves and grants her and others a reprieve in time for dinner. Others beyond herself and Lewis show up to grab a bite. Some only manage to take in a whiff of food before they have to turn back, but some are able to stay and put something into their growling stomachs. Noodle soup is the order of the day, light, served with plain crackers.

“How do you feel?” Bill asks Charlie.

“I’m alright,” she replies, “I even had a bit of lunch, so I guess I’m faring better than you.”

“Good,” he says. “Glad to see one of us is hanging in there.”

Charlie looks at Bill. He twirls his spoon around the rim of his bowl, staring down at it in the vague light cast by the stove. His mind is elsewhere. As is everyone’s.

Lewis and Bill still haven’t told anyone about the potential reactor breach, but it hasn’t escaped their notice. Everybody knows, so Bill gets up and walks over to where Lewis is eating. Leaning over his shoulder, he whispers into the captain’s ear. Lewis shuts his eyes, grunts, then stands as well.

“Listen up everybody!” Lewis musters as much of his remaining strength as he can, projecting it into his voice.

Spoons fall into their bowls, and eyes shoot to Lewis’s shaded figure in the gloom.

“Today’s been rough, I know. And I’m sure most of y'all have figured out what’s happening by now. We didn’t wanna add another layer of stress to what everyone’s feelin’ already with this news, but with how things have been today, it obviously ain’t a secret no more. We, more than likely, got a radiation leak onboard. Sensors ain’t giving us nothing, but it’d be reasonable to think they might be busted with what the ship’s been through. We can’t do nothing about it, but Bill and I wanted to give you some transparency on the matter.”

“And?” Max’s voice replies.

“And nothing, just imagined you all figured it out anyway so there wasn’t no sense in being hush-hush about it. We’re just gonna have to deal with feeling like shit until rescue comes.”

“That’s it?” Max stands up. “That’s all you have to say?”

Lewis squints in the dark, staring back at Max. “You want me to apologize? Say that I’m sorry a fuckin’ Kraken got us stuck down here and damaged the reactor?”

He takes a step forward as if to push his words out further. “I take full responsibility for what’s happening to us, that’s my job. And you dare question that? I take the title of captain very seriously, Max. Very seriously. But I can’t do a goddamned thing right now ‘bout the consequences of what’s happened to us. You think someone else coulda done a better job? Coulda prevented this? Think you’re the man for that job? I don’t think so, because we’re all frustrated and worried and angry right now. And I know it’s hard to keep cool, especially when we all know full well what happens to us the longer we sit in this broken down sub, but goddamn it if I don’t try. I’m trying to keep a level head right now, because your safety and the safety of everyone else on board, is my responsibility. I take that very seriously.

“Shit out there might be out of my control, or any of our control.” He scoffs. “Maybe it’s even outta the control of God himself, I don’t know. But in here, I’m captain, and I’m gonna do everything I can to keep us alive. Ain’t nothing more I can do or say for you, so maybe you should cool it with that tone of voice and eat your damn soup.”

Lewis braces himself against the table, taking long ragged breaths, his body worn from the outburst. The rest of the room is dead quiet and Max doesn’t respond, merely standing, motionless for a moment, before turning away from Lewis and returning to his seat.

The moment of tension settles heavy over the room. Everyone goes back to their meals, trying to concentrate on just getting the meal down, but it’s hard. The air is oppressive and every sound they make sounds like the loudest thing in the world. They slouch down, take tiny sips, unconsciously trying to make themselves smaller, less noticeable. And then Julia looses another howl as if drawn to their anxiety. For a long moment, everybody’s eyes are glued to the ceiling, listening to the beast above. The call fades into the water, nothing else comes, and they just about allow themselves to let out the breath they’re holding. Then Julia bangs on the hull and they just about jump out of their skin. Three knocks ring out in the Narwhal, then silence, true this time, Julia backs off again.

Charlie sits for a time, trying to calm her pounding heart. The silence is worse now. Now the tension of the earlier argument seems far off and unimportant, as terror, like a sharp knife sliding into her gut, settles within her. She stands up. Breathing ragged and fast, she needs to move, to do something. The fear threatens to take her away if she doesn’t distract herself, and, unwilling to wait in silence and find out where it intends to drag her, she leaves her dinner behind and grabs a couple of bowls of broth to bring to those still in the bunks. She only fills the bowls halfway for fear that her trembling hands would just spill any more, then she carefully walks down the dark hall.

It’s hard to navigate when both hands are occupied. Without a firm hand on the walls around her, she’s forced to make due simply brushing the backside of her hand along slowly enough to avoid spilling anything. The measured steps back to the bunks give her time to clear her mind, and once again force the fear back to the recesses of her mind.

When Charlie enters the bunks, she catches a rank scent that overpowers the smell of the steam coming from the broth in her hands. Fetid and acidic, someone’s thrown up in the room, unable to get up and get to the bathroom.

She goes to Elina first, who speaks before Charlie’s even bent down to check on her.

“Lee?”

“Mmhmm, you okay?”

“Could be worse.” Her voice is weaker than usual. Charlie was used to Elina having so much spunk, but there’s none of that in her words now. “I think Piper threw up before, you should check on her.”

“I will. I brought some soup, nothing solid, just the broth. Think you’re up for it?”

“I’ll try.”

Charlie gingerly pushes the bowl toward Elina until she’s sure that she’s got a hold of it. Then she stands up and walks to Piper’s bed.

As she approaches the bunk, her shoes squeak on a patch of wetness.

“Piper,” Charlie whispers. When there’s no response, she places a hand on her shoulder.

Piper shoots up at Charlie’s touch but quickly drops back down. She coughs like someone who’s nearly drowned, burying her face in her pillow until the fit has ended.

“Fuck,” Piper says, her voice hoarse, as she turns toward Charlie.

“You don’t sound good.”

“Feel worse.” There’s a long pause between her sentences as it takes her a while to summon the strength just to speak. “Headache, stomach in a twist, aching everywhere.”

“You threw up?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll put a bucket down here. I brought soup if--”

“No. That’s not gonna happen. Just need to sleep.”

Charlie frowns. “Okay. I’ll come back later and check on you again. Holler if you need something.”

“Okay.”

Standing up, she hears Ernie’s voice call out to her in the dark. He’s sitting up in his bed, scratching at his face.

“Charlie?” He crawls to the edge of his bunk and steps down the ladder. “You seen Jess?”

“She’s in the mess hall. I brought soup if you’re not feeling good.”

“I’m okay now, I’ll eat there. Harder to eat in the dark anyway.”

His footsteps patter away as he leaves the bunks.

Still holding a bowl of soup, Charlie heads to James, the last of the bedridden researchers, and wonders how many trips she’ll have to make for the sailors who are also resting in the room.

James isn’t sleeping, but he’s muttering under his breath as Charlie approaches.

“James?” She asks. “Hungry at all?”

“What? Sorry. Huh? Oh, I guess.” He takes the bowl of soup from Charlie.

“You feel alright?”

“No. But do any of us? Plus I haven’t slept in two days, so that’s not helping.”

Charlie shakes her head. “At all?”

“Not a wink. Can’t risk it.”

“James, I know it’s hard with the nightmares, but you--”

“Not just hard, Charlie. Dangerous. I can feel her. In my head. Every time you wake up, it’s like a bit of you is gone and she’s there instead. I can’t explain it well, but you must feel it too.”

Charlie sighs. “I--James, this is. You’re sick, we all are. I know it might feel like there’s something there, something more to this, but we’ve gotta hold on.”

“I know, I know, I sound crazy. But you have to understand, it’s vital. Just...think about it. Okay? Don’t go to sleep. It’s not safe, and I don’t think we can afford to lose you.”

She doesn’t reply. Charlie leaves the bowl of broth with James and leaves the room to fetch more for the sailors.