It had been an hour of Ace climbing out on a tether, frantically tightening bolts, and the smell was already permeating into the capsule. By this point, all of us were used to it, but it still reeked to high heaven. The bright side was, it did add some “taste” to the bisket and tofu. The rest of us were eating, except Roach, who never ate or neglected her duty in any major way.

After a few minutes, our radar picked up another ship, or so it seemed. It was odd for hovercraft to be this low, but not unheard of. If it was here, the gate above it had probably been locked, and we would be responsible for allowing it to enter the territory above.

“There appears to be another ship in the distance, a few kilometers away,” I said over the radio to Ace, “I’m going to initiate contact. Prepare to re-enter ship if we need to get them to a higher level.”

“Roger that,” Ace said, grunting as they tightened yet another bolt. I looked over at the radar, and noticed that it was moving uncharacteristically slowly. As I sucked on a piece of bisket and kicked my feet up on the panel, I motioned to Roach, “keep an eye out in case they’re trying to evade predators.”

“‘Kay, Jehu,” she replied, filling the ships’ guns with a ‘warning shot’ round.

As the ship got close enough where seeing it was possible, I flashed on our lights, so I could identify it. I was expecting a small craft like ours, or perhaps something meant to carry reinforcing beams, but what I did see…

“Ace,” I whispered, “I’m going to need you to stop what you’re doing right now. Whale ahead.”

“Roger,” they replied.

Trench whales didn’t have any sight, but they had a hell of a lot of vision. Their size was variable, from the size of a large bird to the size of an apartment. This one, however…it really did seem the rumor Salt had spoken of was true. One hundred meters might’ve been too small, even. It was a massive being, clearly identifiable from afar. Its lumbering frame explained its slow speed, but even at that, it was far too close to us now for us to ascend. The sound our motion caused would alert it, and we’d be food in no time.

Roach prepared a larger round, just in case. None of us could afford to move or make a sound, not even a little bit. As it came closer, its massive frame became more and more clear in the darkness. We were a mere twenty meters above the mostly-flat ground, and yet it seemed to dwarf even that. As it passed by, I powered off most of the ship’s systems, hoping it was enough to deter it. The cabin was silent.

And then, outside, I heard something ‘clang’ and Ace yell ‘shit!’

The whale seemed to turn at once, its body careening towards us, and I knew: we had to get ourselves out of there. That thing wasn’t going down with all of Roach’s rounds, even if she tried.

“Ace, let’s pull you in,” I said over the radio, “the whale heard us.”

“Fuck. My bad, a bolt fell. Roger that.” they replied.

Salt and Swill began operating the device to pull them in. Just as they were lifted up, I noticed the whale barging at us. I braced for impact before I had time to warn anyone else, all of them thrown against the ship’s other wall. The shields appeared to function well, making sure the ship didn’t break in part, exactly, but inertia was still a bitch. Everything not screwed down (or in my case, without arms hooked to something not screwed down), was thrown sideways as the ship careened away from the support beam.

I took a moment to assess the damage once things cleared up. The whale was taking a while to turn around, but was still clearly coming back towards us. This hit might involve more than a brunt impact, a bite, even. I would have to get my crew up to floor fifty again. It was then that I noticed Ace dangling limply on the rope below. The lack of flailing suggested to me…unconscious, fuck.

And I noticed, so were Salt and Swill, my normal backup for the rope system failing. There was no time to waste, I’d have to help Ace up onto the ship by myself. I set the ship to auto-ascend to floor 50 after two minutes, then emergency unlock the gate up there. I didn’t have more time than that to lose, not with how fast the whale was maneuvering. Not even Roach was awake to help provide a distraction, and I was honestly lucky her rounds didn’t go off during the impact.

I raced to put on an emergency oxygenation helmet and suit, barely getting the zipper on the suit up, but nevertheless completing things efficiently in that incredible way only adrenaline can produce. I emergency-opened the inner door, and not even waiting for it to close, shoved open the outer door. I braced myself against the ship’s door, and began to pull up.

Ace was only a few meters down, so the work, though hard, was not impossible to complete. However, it was complicated by the appearance, some distance away, of the whale straightening its course again towards us. The clock was ticking even more so now, and I could only pray two minutes was in fact enough.

The last meter seemed the hardest, my muscles beginning to fail despite the adrenaline. I threw them inside the outer door, then heard the countdown beeping down: ten seconds left. Realizing all I would have time to do is close the door tight, I did just that. After it was securely fastened, I stared at the beast head-on, as I braced for the launch upwards.

I remembered Val, my boss, colleague, friend. How I saw him one moment, then didn’t the next. It would be remembered much the same for my crew, assuming the sudden lurch up to floor 50 didn’t concuss them into amnesia. I stared at the smooth head of the beast, its magnificence, and for once, I felt no fear of it.

It opened its gaping maw just as I felt the ship lurch upwards. My grip was not good enough, and I fell. It seemed, as I looked upwards, that I had dodged the whale. However, I had done so by falling further, further still downwards into the deep. From beneath, the whale seemed almost endless with its expansive body blocking out the still-glowing lights of my former ship.

I remembered the drills I’d been told as a child, and tried to angle my legs downwards, versus my head. I could survive a double femoral fracture, perhaps even long enough to transmit a goodbye, from this height. As I tumbled to the ground, I felt first the pressure against my feet, then the pain of impact, then nothing.

The floor 50 residents weren’t sure quite what to make of the ship. It was the only one they’d seen all month, for certain, going to that area. Workers from above, no doubt. The only people still on this floor were old and sick, having given their children everything to escape just one floor above, and they had little business with the repair workers.

Eventually, from within, one began to awaken, the young person on the inside of the hatch. They coughed, squinted, and then began screaming something. The language they had on the floor had diverged enough from whatever higher floor these foreigners came from that the worker’s screams were nigh-unintelligible.

The residents did, however, know it was only a matter of time before the ship ran out of power, or worse, another ship came down. With a little work, and a friendly wave to the worker to assure them no harm was meant, they dragged it off to the side, next to an old abandoned shop. As the worker stepped out, and took off their space suit-like helmet, they looked around at the old timers, who gently waved at them.

The old timers knew enough to make out the word ‘thank you’ in some sort of upper floor dialect, as the worker motioned to enter the craft. They did, and at the first worker’s gesturing, brought out the three other workers, all of whom were in various states of half-consciousness.

“What should we do with them?” Tabitha asked Gera, her wife.

“They guard the beams which hold up our homes,” Gera replied, “we guard them now. Whatever happened below is beyond our comprehension. The horrors they must have seen.”

Tabitha nodded as she extended a hand to the worker, who tentatively accepted it with a smile.