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The air has a coconut scent tinged with the faint hum of electronics. The security chief has a fondness for Pina Coladas and uses an air freshener with a tropical essence. The office is small, cramped, and every surface glows with the blue-light of monitors displaying various angles of the ship.
The security officer is a grizzled walrus shifter named Hal. He nods at us and gestures off to the side. “I have the footage from the cameras near Lieutenant Gordon’s cabin. You will see it better on that monitor over there.” He points to a larger screen set on a desk with two chairs. With a few keystrokes, Hal brings the corridor outside Jake’s cabin into view.
We lean in, watching as the timestamp rolls forward. But something’s off. The image flickers and then skips several minutes ahead.
“Rewind that.” Hal does, but the same thing happens again. A clean cut in the footage.
“Someone tampered with this. Mr. Gordon, can you restore the video?”
He grunts and knuckles down with the keyboard and mouse. Making adjustments, he restores a few frames and shows us the footage again, this time at a snail’s pace. I catch a glimpse of movement—a shadow in front of Jake’s cabin, a door that opens a crack—but it’s too distorted to make out clearly.
As I lean closer, my shoulder brushes against Basil’s arm. He smells faintly of cedar and rich dark leather. Intoxicating and a distraction I do not need or want. He’s too close. Every inch of space between us is charged with tension.
“An inside job?” Basil murmurs, turning slightly to face me. His breath brushes my cheek, making my skin prickle.
“It’s possible. Someone who knows their way around our systems for certain.”
Basil’s gaze locks onto mine, intense and probing. “You don’t trust easily, do you?”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
He smirks but doesn’t pull away. “Maybe we’re more alike than you think.”
Before I can respond, Hal’s phone rings, and he hands it to me after saying hello.
“Cor, I need you in the forward environmental pool. How soon can you get away and join me?”
“On my way.” I hand the phone receiver back to Hal. “Thank you, Hal. I’m needed in the ECR. If Mr. Jenks has any further questions, please assist him in any way you can.”
Basil steps aside as I head for the door, his voice following me out. “This isn’t over.”
No, I think as I make my way forward and down to where most of the crew cabins and social spaces are located. It’s just the beginning.
The ship’s lower decks are shrouded in an unsettling quiet. Zara and I move through the dim corridors, our flashlights cutting through the darkness. The hum of the engine room pulses beneath our feet, a familiar, almost comforting rhythm.
“Cor, look here…” Zara whispers, her voice barely audible over the mechanical hum.
We crouch near the hull, in the maintenance area for the largest of the aquatic shifter pools Zara manages for crew use. I add my beam of light to hers, revealing symbols etched into the metal. They pulse with an eerie light, casting a sickly glow. I run my fingers over them, feeling a faint vibration.
What is this? The magic is familiar but not quite right…
“These markings…. They shouldn’t be here.”
Zara shifts uneasily beside me. “Do you think it’s connected to the disappearances?”
I nod, my mind racing. The markings pulse again, and a wave of nostalgia washes over me, mingling with a deep unease. This magic is ancient and twisted, not like the protective enchantments I’m used to.
“I think yes but can’t say why.” I stand and flip my flashlight off, closing my eyes for a minute to adjust to the dark. “Lights out for a sec, please Zara.”
As I open my eyes, I shift in part, calling on my dolphin to see through her eyes. The transition is seamless, a familiar glide into a primal awareness. My vision sharpens, blues and greens take on amazing depth while my eyes provide the red and yellow spectrum missing for dolphins. The edges of everything become defined and clear. Scanning the walls of the corridor, I’m shocked by what is revealed.
The walls are alive with a swirling, iridescent residue, a chaotic tapestry of colors that pulse and shift with a malevolent energy. Where once there was the clean, metallic sheen of the ship’s interior, now there are streaks of deep purples and sickly greens, interwoven with flashes of crimson that throb like a heartbeat. It’s as if the essence of the ship is being twisted and corrupted by this perverse magic.
The markings are not random; they form a pattern, an intricate web of runes and symbols that speak of ancient power and dark intentions. The magic energy is brutal, asserting its will over the ship with a sentient malice. I feel it pressing against my magic, testing, looking for a way to seep into my core and unravel me from within.
My dolphin senses recoil, but I force our focus to remain steady. We need to understand this if we’re to have any hope of countering it. This is not the protective enchantment I’m used to, the kind that nurtures and guards. This is sinister, a force seeking to dominate and consume.
The corridor suddenly is colder, the air thick with the scent of ozone and decay. As I take it all in, my body trembles, waves of raw fear run down my spine. This magic is ancient and twisted, a dark stain on the fabric of reality.
