The Kraken of Europa 

By SuVida777

287km from Pwyll, Europa.

Gales buffeted the high-alloy steel and coated it with frost as if to freeze them in their tracks—but Captain Whiteclaw was unstoppable, seemingly one with the ice- crawler she was on. Her crew on deck glinted in the wintry gloom in all their motley metal splendor, and it was hard to tell man from machine.

Whiteclaw stood up to her full five-foot height and raised her "cutlass", which was actually an ice axe. "Full sail!"

"Aye, aye, captain!" the crew dutifully roared back.

The bulky crawler surged forward with a boom of protest, and plowed ice trailed in its wake, adding to the lineae of Europa's terrain. The crew burst into song.

There once was a ship that put to sea 

The name of the ship was the Billy of Tea 

The winds blew up, her bow dipped down 

Oh blow, my bully boys, blow

The desolate sea of whiteness stretched out on all sides under the ever-present eye of Jupiter, which hung over the tidally locked world in all its familiarity.

"Bolt," Whiteclaw said after a while. "ETA?"

Bolt's voice crackled through the comms system. "Ten minutes, captain!"

1

"Gaptooth?"

"All systems functional. Fuel levels optimal."

"Hima?"

"Drill ready. Sub on standby. Awaiting orders, captain."

Whiteclaw took a swig from her canteen and let out a burp of satisfaction. Her

chest swelled with anticipation as she sucked in the frigid air. Centuries of terraforming had thickened the atmosphere, but high oxygen levels posed a health risk. Lung augmentation was of high demand—almost as much as pwyllite.

She flexed her hand, and the pwyllite tips of her claws glowed silver in the light. If the coordinates she stumbled on were true, there would be enough of the stuff to make her richer than a queen. The perils were worth the risk.

"Bolt?"

"Yes, captain?"

"Everything clear? No one following us?"

"No crawlers detected. Clear as Jupiter."

Gaptooth chimed in, "What about..."

"What?"

"You know..."

Bolt snorted. "Get yer cogs together, mate."

"It ain't funny! Heard many a tale—"

"Gap, stop yer bloody overthinkin', would ya?" Hima interrupted. "We do this

fast and get outta here, and we'd be fine—right, captain?"

2

Whiteclaw made an idle tapping motion, her acute hearing detecting each clink over the howling wind.

"Captain?"

"The crawler disappearances are one too many to dismiss, Hima." Whiteclaw continued tapping. "It's an unknown...risk. But aye, we do this fast—make sure we don't end up adding to the stats."

"Surely you don't believe in...the kraken story too?"

Whiteclaw stood up straighter. "I wasn't talking about that, Hima. In any case, it's not wise to dismiss this as an old husbands' tale. We proceed with caution."

"Aye, captain."

Rough terrain made the last leg of the journey a bumpy ride. When the crawler groaned to a stop at what appeared to be the middle of nowhere, the crew's excitement was almost palpable.

"Let's get to work, folks!" Whiteclaw roared, brandishing her ice axe into the air. With a cacophony of yells, thuds and creaks, everyone complied.

Hima deployed the drilling rig, and they bored through the ice shell of the moon.

The warming climate had thinned the shell, but it was still a laborious task. Booms and cracks rent the air, and vibrations juddered up their spines.

Hours flew by, and then it was time to lower the submersible.

"Bolt, you're in charge as usual," Whiteclaw said as she hopped in nimbly through the hatch. "Gap, come with me."

Confined in the armored coffin of the submersible, they started their descent down the shaft. The cable that held them was reinforced with graphene, and Whiteclaw

3

was confident that they would have no trouble lifting their treasure up to the surface. Europa was smaller than the rocky planets in the solar system and exerted a lighter gravitational pull, which also worked in their favor.

As they sank through the frozen crust of the moon, the light that filtered down gradually faded. Hima switched on the submersible's floodlights. They stared through the viewport at the hewn walls of the shaft, which glistened in the stark illumination.

Then they hit the water.

The gigantic, global ocean of Europa engulfed them in its cold embrace. Thankfully, their coordinates pinpointed the pwyllite deposit at a seamount that rose high above the seafloor. The small water world's pressure was also relatively low, which their craft was more than capable of handling.

Hima guided the submersible to resume its steady descent.

The bubble of light around them pierced only a fraction of the vast blackness. Cut off from the surface and its blustery winds, Whiteclaw couldn't help musing that this was akin to a tomb.

Gaptooth's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Captain! This is it!"

Whiteclaw tuned into the side-scan sonar feed. Images popped into view, and she scaled them up with an impatient flick of her hand.

"Well, blow me down!" She stared at the unmistakable splotches of pwyllite stones amidst the noise.

Hima let out a joyous cry. "We're rich!"

"Alright." Whiteclaw tamped down her glee. "Get us down there in one piece, Hima."

4

Their treasure now located, they continued their journey. As they neared the seamount, Europa's peculiar organisms made themselves known.

The colonies had sent many expeditions over the years to study these water- dwelling creatures, but Whiteclaw knew that they had only scratched the surface. That very moment, she was probably gazing upon hitherto unknown species.

Splashes of bioluminescence and amorphous shapes drifted in and out of their vision. The hydrophones picked up a hubbub of biological noise. Gaptooth's mouth fell open as what looked like a tangle of silken ribbons propelled itself away in one undulating motion. It didn't seem to have a central body, and there were multiple maws.

"Ain't that," Hima said, squinting, "a wispy willo?"

Sure enough, what appeared to be bobbing flames came within view. The rare things were a delicacy, though it was only in recent times that their true nature was discovered. They were the fruits of a giant organism similar to mycelium, stretching hundreds of kilometers.

"This sure is our lucky day..." Gaptooth murmured.

"A detour won't hurt, eh, captain?" Hima asked.

Despite the unease that took root, Whiteclaw grunted her acquiescence.

They veered towards the nearest wispy willo—and something thudded against the

hull.

Gaptooth let out a shriek as they crashed to the side. Hima scrambled to regain

control of the lurching craft.

"What was that! Gap, weren't you checking the bloody—" "I swear there ain't no kraken!"

5

"Who said anything about a kraken!"

The three held their breath, awaiting a second attack. A minute elapsed.

A whoosh of air escaped Whiteclaw's mouth. "You scallywags are bloody—" Something like a tentacle slapped against the viewport. With a squeaking noise, it

slid out of view.

Whiteclaw screamed—followed by the others.

"Hima!"

Hima didn't need to be yelled at twice. The submersible whirled around.

"Gap! Find the creature!"

"It's gone, captain!" Gaptooth squeaked. "But the footage. Look!"

Whiteclaw played the overlay that materialized in her vision. Despite the motion

blur, she could clearly see a form reminiscent of Earth's cephalopods.

"Too small to be the kraken though," Gaptooth whispered, with what seemed like

a tinge of disappointment. "Maybe they exaggerated the size—"

"Are you bloody disappointed that we're not dead?" Whiteclaw growled. "Get to

work! We grab that pwyllite and get the hell outta here!" "Aye, captain!"

Their quest took on a new sense of urgency.

It wasn't long before they reached the seamount, which was a sight to behold in its rich growth of ocean organisms. Whiteclaw was in no mood to admire the scenery however. She zeroed in on the carpet of pebble-like stones that shone silver in the floodlights.

6

She barked out orders, and they wasted no time in deploying the collection gear. The "basket" unfurled and robotic arms extended down to grab the precious substance. Whiteclaw was thankful about the AI upgrades she'd invested in—everything worked without a glitch.

All of their fears were replaced by the glory that awaited them. Whiteclaw thought about the rock mansion she could move to in Sigiriya, the newest space habitat. Judging by the expression on Gaptooth's face, he had similar plans.

"We're at the limit, captain!" Hima announced with a grin. "That's one massive haul!"

"Alright!" Whiteclaw cleared her throat. "Let's move."

The submersible started its ascent back to the ice shell, towing the treasure along. The journey was slow but uneventful. They waited with bated breath for a tentacle to materialize, but nothing happened.

When they finally reached the shaft, Gaptooth burst into laughter while Whiteclaw heaved a sigh of relief.

"Wait," Hima said slowly. "The crawler's not responding." "Maybe Bolt fell asleep," Gaptooth offered.

"What?" Whiteclaw frowned. "It's not like Bolt to fall asleep." "We need them to send the cable down."

Emitting an expletive, Whiteclaw opened the top hatch.

She gripped her ice axe and gave it a fond pat. "Your time has come." "What was that, captain?"

"Nothing, nothing..."

7

Whiteclaw swung her "cutlass" onto the wall of the shaft. With surprising agility, she pulled her petite form up. Her bionic feet found footholds in the smallest of cracks.

After what felt like eons, the opening of the shaft gaped above, but the unease within her solidified into a cold weight.

Whiteclaw emerged back on the surface of Europa, the winds howling in her ears while the gas giant brooded in the sky.

All around was a never-ending expanse of frozen terrain. There was no ice- crawler in sight. Her knees buckled.

***

Deep down in the frigid water world—almost two hundred kilometers down where no Earthlings had ever ventured—a gargantuan city extended out across the seafloor. It was a city that was fundamentally different from that of a land-based race—as were its denizens. Powered by hydrothermal vents and constructed of unknown materials, it was a metropolis in perpetual shadow. The soundscape, however, was far from dark—it was a vibrant hotpot of sound.

In the outskirts of the city, a cephalopod-like creature swam its way to its sapient guardians, who were gathered around a human ice-crawler. If Whiteclaw were present and could understand the conversation, which was beyond the capabilities of her senses, the scene would unfold as follows.

"This calls for a celebration!" K*))c*T said, satisfaction written all over their faces. "Well done, fellas."

8

"Aye, captain!" came an enthusiastic chorus of ultrasonic clicks.

K*))c*T stroked their hovering companion animal. "Who knew the dung aliens were so easy to lure. It's disgusting they collect J*xc* poop."

"They find it precious," Z*^^t* chimed in. "I believe they're heavily dependent on their optical sensors, and this has a pleasing effect on them."

"Such a geek you are." K*))c*T emitted a series of clicks to express their mirth. "Anyways, why did you spare the three aliens in that flimsy craft?"

"Captain, we don't need to catch them all. We have to have sustainable—" "Whatever."

Further away, city-dwellers brought their excited young ones to see the newest

addition to their local zoological gardens. This new attraction turned out to be an air- filled exhibit—where Bolt and the rest of Whiteclaw's crew sat in a glum heap.