I couldn’t stand looking at Louis anymore. He still had his face, his voice, the shape of the man I once knew—but that was all. The Louis I had trusted, the Louis I had sailed beside, was gone. He was replaced by a stranger. And there he sat, among the residents of NOAH 1 in the mess hall, his teeth grinding against a piece of hardtack as though nothing had changed. But everything had.

The trip back to NOAH 1 had been tense. The City Council decided—stay vigilant, but take no action. Do not alarm the public. I saw the frustration in Alan’s clenched jaw, the disbelief in Captain Francis’s eyes. This was not what they had expected.

But Louis… he looked relieved. Too calm. Too quiet about the decision. Whenever Francis pressed him with questions, demanding to know what he was hiding, Louis stayed calm. Cool and unbothered, he always had the same answer.

“There's nothing to worry about," he would say, as if the matter was settled and there was nothing more he could add. He assured him that the world wasn't on the brink of destruction again. Instead, he spoke of a new world, a fresh start. And then, just as quickly, he would close the conversation, offering no more words, no more clarity.

“Looks like Page is waiting for a treat,” Gunther said with a chuckle, cradling a steaming mug. He sat across from Louis, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Louis stopped mid-chew, glancing at me. I sat on the table, glaring. Finally, he notices.

“I suppose you’re hungry," he said. "It was a long trip back from Floating City.” Setting aside his biscuit, he speared a piece of mackerel and dangled it in front of me.

Hissing, I batted it away with a sharp slap.

Louis's hand jerked back. The fork slipped from his fingers, striking the table with a sharp clang before tumbling to the floor.

Gunther’s smile faded. “Page! What’s wrong with you? You never turn down food.”

Food had never been something I refused—until now. This was different. This was betrayal plated and served. I couldn't stomach the thought of eating something offered by a treasonous trout, and I wouldn't even take the smallest bite. Just looking at him, being near him, and hearing him speak as if all was well soured my appetite.

“I guess he’s had his fill already,” Louis said, pushing his plate aside. “And me as well.”

Gunther’s frown deepened as he glanced down at Louis’s mostly untouched meal.

“What’s going on? You didn’t even touch your plate. Want me to give it to Page for later?”

Louis shrugged, his voice distant. “I just haven’t felt like eating since…”

“Yeah, I know.” Gunther’s voice softened. “But you’ve still got Sam, remember?”

Louis gave a small nod. “You’re right. I’ve still got my boy.” And then, clearing his throat, he said, “By the way, do you have some…” He hesitated, glancing around, voice dropping to a whisper, so only Gunther could hear, “Something good to drink?”

The head cook of NOAH 1 nodded. His knowing smile was all the answer Louis seemed to need. Later, as they cleared the table, he motioned for Louis to follow him into the kitchen.

A green glass bottle passed between them. Louis took it without a word. He tucked it under his jacket, kept his head down, and left without a word.

Since we’d been back on the ship, I hadn’t let him out of my sight. Not that I wanted to look at him. I followed him from the mess hall to his suite. At the door, I watched him tuck Sam into bed. Once the boy was asleep, Louis paced the stripped-down living room, where most of the wreckage from his earlier outburst had already been cleared away. Then he stopped, slumped into the last remaining chair, and popped the cork on the bottle. He took a drink, then reached into his jacket pocket. Out came the black stone.

His eyes found mine. How dare he look at me! I glared back, waiting for his next move.

“I should’ve come back sooner,” he admitted, his words dripping with regret. “I should’ve fought harder. But everything I did—I did for the greater good. Everyone will understand soon, Page. You’ll see.”

There was something in his tone that set my nerves on edge. I didn’t like it. I told myself I didn’t know what he meant, but deep down, I already did.

He brushed his fingers over the stone’s smooth flat surface, and symbols lit up in a soft neon-green glow. Pressing his thumb to a circular mark, he spoke into the device.

“Be ready to initiate the Resurface Plan. But my family—” He hesitated, then took another swig, his breath heavy. “My son… he’s all I have left. And you promised. I did my part. Now do yours.”

He let the black stone slip into his lap as he slouched back and drained the last of his drink. Liquor dribbled down his chin, staining the light green fabric of his shirt with deep red. His eyes drooped, his breathing slowed, and within moments, he was out cold—his chin resting on his chest. The bottle slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a sharp clank before rolling to a stop at my feet.

I had suspected the truth since the Hearing at the Council Hall, but hearing it spoken aloud made my stomach lurch. The Resurface Plan. What was it? An attack? Were the sea creatures finally preparing to reveal themselves to the world? I had to act. Alan. Captain Francis. Dr. Willis. Someone had to know—before it was too late.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

I crept toward him, watching carefully, making sure he was truly asleep. Rising onto my hind legs, I stretched out a paw, scooting the black stone closer before snatching it up in my mouth. It was heavier than expected, but I clenched my teeth and held firm.

I turned toward the door, almost slipping away— One step. Two. Almost there…

A yawn. Loud. Behind me.

“Wh–where's my—” Louis mumbled, shifting groggily. Then he snapped awake. “Page! Get back here with that!”

I ran. Instinct took over. Down the corridor, blind turns—a sharp right, then another right. Louis’s footsteps thundered behind me, closing in.

Right turn. Right again. And then, my paws skidding on the floor, it hit me—we were running in circles.

So, up the stairs I went. Louis was not far behind though his breath came harder, his pace slowed—but he wasn’t giving up. And neither was I.

I slipped into the supply closet, breath coming fast. The mop bucket rattled as I crouched behind it, letting the black stone slip from my jaws. Outside, Louis paced the corridor, his voice soft, coaxing.

“Come now, be a good cat,” he called, his words honeyed with false kindness. “Just give me back the communicator.”

A beat of silence. Then, in an even gentler voice:

"I'll give you plenty of tuna. I know it's your favorite. You used to come up to our suite every evening, waiting for Sarah to bring your bowl. Do you remember?”

Oh, I remembered. Those warm nights, the comforting scent of fresh tuna, Sarah’s laughter as she set down my dish. Sam, Joe, Anne—each one taking their turn to scratch behind my ears. I would leave their suite with a belly full and a heart light.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted—just for a second—to step into the light, drop the stone, and tell him I was sorry. That I didn’t mean to take what was his. That, honestly, a bowl of tuna sounded really good right now. That I missed the feeling of fingers scratching just the right spot behind my ears.

But those days were over.

And no matter how much I wished otherwise, they weren’t coming back.

Then his voice dropped, like a mask slipping. “Come on… where are you, you fucking cat?”

My fur bristled. Fucking cat? Such contempt, such bile! Fine. Let him stew. He’d get nothing from me. As if I would ever return his cursed stone now.

A metallic clang rang out as fists pounded the wall, followed by the sharp crack of a boot striking hard. Then, a sound that made my fur stand on end: a growl, raw and feral, like something not quite human. I no longer recognized Louis. The man I once knew was gone, buried beneath this rage, this desperation.

The Louis I had known—the one who smiled, who spoke with warmth—was dead. And standing in his place was a stranger, hollowed out by rage.

The grief of it settled deep in my chest. Another loss. Another name to add to the list of those I had cared for, only to watch them slip away.

The sound of his footsteps faded down the stairwell at the end of the corridor. Only then did I dare move. Carefully, I picked up the black stone in my mouth and crept out of the closet.

“Aha!”

Louis’s shout rang out like a gunshot.

I nearly dropped the stone.

I whirled to see him charging, eyes wild.

Just as I turned to flee, a large hand clamped around the nape of my neck, yanking me off the ground.

I writhed, hissing furiously. Louis’s face was inches from mine, dark with fury. His other hand pried the black stone from my mouth.

Traitor! Treasonous trout!

Rage flared hot in my chest. Snarling, I lashed out, claws slicing across his cheek. He let out a sharp growl of pain. Good—I did it again, this time striking with both paws. My claws raked over his eyes. Louis howled. His grip loosened, and I dropped, twisting midair to land on all fours. The black stone slipped from his grasp. In an instant, I snatched it up. As he staggered back, hands pressed to his bleeding face, I turned tail and ran.

“Page! Get back here!” he yelled.

Then—WHAM!

A loud, ugly thud. A quick glance over my shoulder showed Louis sprawled on the floor, having tripped over his own feet. He groaned, scrambling to get up.

Ha! What a stroke of luck! I wasn’t about to waste it. I didn’t wait to see him recover. Every second counted. No time to think—I bolted, sprinting for the spiral stairs.

*****

Still in her uniform, Alan lay sprawled across her bed, fast asleep, one arm dangling over the edge. Dropping the black stone on the floor, I leaped onto the mattress and padded toward her, nudging her shoulder. No response. Crawling onto her pillow, I tapped her cheek—gently at first. She stirred, brushed her face, and rolled over.

Frustrated, I raised my paw again and gave her a firmer smack. Alan! Wake up! We've an emergency!

My voice was desperate, but to her, it was just a series of meows.

Nothing.

Desperate, I flopped down squarely onto her face. That did it. Alan groaned, pushing me aside as she blinked up at me, bleary-eyed and annoyed.

“Page… what? Were you trying to suffocate me in my sleep? ” she growled.

I jumped down, trotting toward the doorway, then turned back to face her. You have to follow me! I meowed insistently. This wasn’t just another midnight disturbance. This was life or death.

She wouldn’t understand the words, but maybe—just maybe—she’d sense the desperation in my voice.

It took her a minute to fully be more alert.

“Do you want to show me something?” she asked.

I nodded, then couldn’t help but jump in victory –finally, she caught on! I spun in a circle. Then, quickly glanced between her and the door, waiting for her to catch up.

“Alright, alright,” she said with a sigh, a half-smile tugging at her lips. “So, what in the world do you want to show me at this hour?”

She swung her legs over the bed and slipped into her shoes. Then, she froze. She saw it—the black stone. Kneeling, she picked it up, fingers grazing its smooth edges. As if responding to her touch, faint green symbols flickered into view. A single red circle blinked.

She swallowed hard, then she pressed her thumb to the light.

The reply came at once, a rasping voice hissing through the device.

“Mr. Kelping, your message was received well. Prepare for our arrival.”

Alan’s eyes were wide with shock. When she looked down at me, I saw it—fear.