A chill blast of Arctic summer air punched Yuri Sidorov in the gut as he pushed his way out of the hatch and onto the rolling deck of the Vladimir Obruchev. The Russian Federation's newest icebreaker was plowing along through the Kara Sea, heading north into the Arctic to begin its first ice trials.
Yuri watched the blue horizon spread away in all directions as he knocked a cigarette out of the pack. Just two days ago, he had watched the distant rocky shores of Ostrov Greem-Bell pass away to the west, and relished his last sighting of land for a month. He turned to the east, basking in the wan orange light of the early morning sun, and lit the cigarette beneath the protective cover of his gloved hand. Several attempts yielded the familiar, acrid roil of nicotine infused smoke which he so craved. Yuri considered it one of the few comforts afforded to a deckhand on a Russian ship, even if the ship was new. The science crew had all the comforts of home, while the ship’s crew did not even get televisions in their bunks. It was shit, they did all the real work and reaped no rewards.
Walking to the railing, Yuri hawked a glob of morning phlegm onto the deck and muttered a curse. Maybe he should have gone to university or a trade school like his brother. He cursed again and took another deep drag of his cigarette. He felt the warmth emanating from the lit end and the smoke, it felt good. Almost enough to make him sweat, or he was imagining it.
Yuri stared off into the deep blue sea, watching the waves rise and fall and thinking that it was not so cold up here as he was led to believe. In fact, he was tempted to take his parka off and get some sun on his skin. He laughed at that, sun tanning in the Arctic. What was next, a tropical island teaming with half-naked island women? That would be a good way to end this voyage.
The ship’s bell sounded for the watch change as Yuri finished his smoke. He sighed and was about to step away from the railing when he caught sight of something green floating on the swells. The emerald spec stood in stark contrast to the deep blue of the sea, but it took Yuri a minute to figure out what it was. A plant.
The swell moved the piece of foliage closer to the starboard side of the ship and Yuri leaned out to see it. Debris was common out at sea, especially when landmasses were fairly close, but as Yuri watched this piece his eyes widened and he cursed again “`tchyo za ga`lima?”
This was not some clump of grass or moss that grew on the rocky islands of the Arctic circle. It was a palm frond. Even Yuri knew that it was a tropical plant and was definitely not supposed to be here, in the Arctic circle. Then again, what did he know?
Yuri was about to discount it when he noticed another frond coming behind the first and then another. Within minutes he espied hundreds of floating pieces of plants, more palm like fronds and more plants he did not recognize. He shook his head and closed his eyes, maybe he was hallucinating. When he opened them again, the plants were still there and a warm breeze swirled across the deck.
Now Yuri was really warm, enough to unzip his parka. He guessed it was about fifteen degrees, far warmer than it should have been. He knew he needed to report to the deck office for his assignments, but he could not tear himself away until he heard the hatch to the high bay open and the voices of several people spilling out onto the fantail.
“Do you believe this shit, Yuri?” Mihkail, the ship’s Bosun, clapped a massive hand over Yuri’s shoulder while the other stroked his long beard.
“I was just finishing my smoke when I saw them.” Yuri stammered, expecting a rebuking for being late to his shift.
Mikhail's bearded face parted with a smile. “I don’t think that will be a problem today. Science crew is pissing with excitement over some damn hedge clippings.” Mihkail's smile withered as he sniffed the air and looked around him. “Weather is not natural either. Something is not right.”
Yuri shuddered against his will and longed for solid ground and good vodka. Old Mihkail had been sailing since he could wipe his own ass. When he said something was wrong, something was seriously wrong.
Mihkail’s eyes narrowed, focusing on something out on the water. Yuri followed his gaze and caught a glimpse of movement, a silvery shimmer cut the rolling surface of the sea followed by a building wake a few hundred meters out.
“Whale?” Yuri asked as he reached for another cigarette. His hand trembled as he put it to his lips.
“No whale.” Mihkail said as the creature cut through the water, heading directly toward the ship. “Large though.”
Yuri lit his cigarette, tearing his gaze from the mystery creature. When he did, he finally noticed the building fog around them. “Do you see this?”
Mihkail’s radio released a burst of chatter, causing both men to jump. Both men laughed as Mihkail held the receiver to his ear.
Mihkail nodded towards Yuri. “Da, water is warm,” Mihkail paused, his face serious. “And it is fresh.”
“Fresh water? We are not near any rivers.”
Yuri noticed the entire science crew was now on deck pointing and yammering amongst themselves. The deck crew, those that were not asleep, were there as well. Everyone of them had removed their cold weather attire as the temperature continued to increase into balmy humidity.
The thing in the water now gilded closer to the ice breaker, its humped back crested the surface and Yuri felt a flutter of fear in his gut, the beast was no whale or shark. The glimmering skin was a framework of scaly nodules, not so different from a crocodile or an alligator. Before he could observe it further, the creature submerged again and the building mist coalesced where it had been.
“Morskoy drakon,” Mihkail whispered. Sea dragon.
Mihkail started to back away from the rail, muttering curses under his breath.
Yuri started to follow suit, fear rising in his belly, when the world stopped. Everything around him slowed to an imperceptible crawl and an insurmountable weight pulled on the very atoms of his being. The direction of gravity’s pull moved from vertical to horizontal, drawing everything in the same direction the ship had been heading. Yuri felt like he weighed a thousand kilograms, like his pockets were filled with boulders. He tried to move, but his body did not respond to his command.
The once placid Arctic environment whirled into a spinning disc which drew inward on itself like a whirlpool. The sea and sky spun around them, coiling like a corkscrew as the Obruchev was pulled forward. Shimmering waves of light lanced out from the gyre and electricity filled the air with a palpable charge.
Everything forward of Yuri was being stretched and drawn into the vortex ahead , appearing to whirl and shrink down into nothingness. There was no sense of time and space as Yuri lost his battle against this alternate gravity. A part of him knew that they were defying some natural law of physics and some other part knew there was no coming back to shore.
Within a fraction of a fraction of a second, less than the time it takes to blink an eye, the entirety of the Vladimir Obruchev was gone along with all its crew. No sign of its existence remained except for a lone cigarette butt floating upon an unnaturally warm Arctic Sea.
The cigarette butt bobbed in the water as something swam beneath it, something large, something reptilian. It swirled in the gentle eddy left by the creatures passing and floated along until it ran into a floating island of plant matter as it rode the current southwards.
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