Chapter Text
It was an average day on the North Atlantic Ocean, if a little dreary. Gray clouds covered the sky, blocking out the sun and leaving the ocean slightly darker than usual. For the Octonauts, sailing through the seas in the Octopod, it was a typical work day. Captain Barnacles oversaw the crew and gave orders, Dashi charted a course to the Arctic, their next destination, Peso tended to the creatures in the sick bay, Tweak did maintenance in the Launch Bay, and everyone else kept themselves busy in the meantime. It was a slow but normal day. Until suddenly it wasn’t when a small boat drove up to the Octopod.
Shellington was the one who’d first spotted it. He’d been distracted thinking about a recent mission he’d been on, or at least trying to avoid thinking about it. (He’d gotten lost on a hiking trail. The path never ended.) He’d looked away from the screens and had been staring blankly out the HQ’s windows at the surrounding seascapes when he saw it: in the distance, there was a small black dot on the surface of the water, casting shadows down through the water. He watched it for a while as it drew closer and closer. Then he recognized what it was and almost shot up in his seat.
“Dashi, there’s a boat!” he exclaimed.
She looked up from her own workstation and squinted at the windows. “Where? I don’t…Oh, I see it! That’s weird, we’re a little far from shore to be seeing a fishing boat,” she said.
“I don’t think it’s a fishing boat. It’s too small,” he replied.
“You’re right,” she said, “It’s just a tiny little motorboat. Do you think they’re lost? Is there an island nearby they could be docked at?”
“What is going on here?” a voice boomed from behind them.
Both of them turned around. Captain Barnacles was standing there looking at them expectantly. Dashi stood up and did a little salute. “Captain,” she said, “We saw a boat on the surface.”
“A boat? All the way out here? What’s it doing?” he asked.
Dashi glanced upwards for a moment. “I actually think it’s here for us,” she said.
“Really? Why?” asked Barnacles.
“Because it’s following the ship.”
Barnacles and Shellington both looked up to see that the boat was in fact keeping pace with the Octopod. They watched it for a minute or two, and it didn't even slightly change its course.
“Dashi,” said Barnacles, “Stop the ship.”
She nodded and turned back to the controls. “On it captain!”
The ship slowed down and eventually came to a gentle stop on a flat stretch of the ocean floor. The motorboat slowed down as well, and once the Octopod stopped moving, it started driving in circles above it.
“What do you think they want?” Dashi asked.
“There’s one way to find out,” replied Barnacles, “Dashi, Shellington, to the–”
Right at that moment, one of the chutes connecting to the outer pods opened, cutting him off. An orange blur rolled out of it and across the HQ floor. Kwazii jumped up, his visible eye shining with excitement.
“YARR!” he cried, waving his paws in the air emphatically, “CAPTAIN! DASHI! SHELLINGTON!! THERE BE A BOAT ABOVE THE SHIP!”
“We know already!” the three of them said at the same time.
“Blast it.”
“We were just going to go see what it’s all about,” explained Barnacles, “Would you like to join us?”
“Are ye pulling me leg? ‘Course I would! It’s bloody boring around here,” Kwazii replied.
“Very well. Kwazii, Dashi, Shelling–”
Three more chutes opened up almost at once. Peso slid out of one, Tunip fell out of another, and Professor Inkling crawled out of the third. They all started speaking over each other.
“Why did we stop?! Is there an emergency?!” cried Peso.
“I’ve spotted a boat from the library’s porthole!” declared Inkling.
<“There’s a fork in the garbage compactor,”> chirped Tunip, straightening up.
The captain chuckled. “Looks like we all need a break. Octonauts, to the Launch Bay!”
Tweak wanted to join when they explained what was going on to her, and so they all ended up going outside. Shellington was in the Gup-A with Barnacles, Kwazii, and Peso, and Dashi, Tweak, Inkling, and Tunip went in the Gup-C. The motorboat finally slowed down once the gups surfaced. Its pilot, who turned out to be an albino rat, brought the boat to a gradual stop between the gups with a bored expression on their snout the whole time. In the boat next to their feet was a thick, square-shaped package with OCTONAUTS scribbled on the front.
Barnacles lowered the Gup-A’s visor while Dashi did the same for the Gup-C. “Hello!” he called, “We’re the Octonauts! What brings you here?”
They crossed their arms and leaned back against the edge of the boat. “I’m here on delivery for Hunter. The content creator. You know.”
“I…don’t, sorry,” Barnacles said.
The rat looked surprised, then annoyed. “You don’t know? The Hunter Games? Huntables? Team Hunt? Any of that ring a bell?”
“Not really, no.”
“That sounds kind of familiar,” said Dashi, “But I’m not sure.”
They rolled their eyes. “Whatever. These are party invitations. For a party, you know. Hunter wanted to invite you guys because he’s super into conservation, and that’s kind of your whole deal, right? Anyway, the party’s happening on a ship docked a couple miles east of here.”
“Thank you! We appreciate the invitation, though we’d have to check our schedule first…”
“Actually, I think we’re ahead of schedule! It wouldn’t hurt to stay an hour or two,” said Dashi.
“If that’s so…” the captain murmured. Then, he nodded, smiling. “Very well! We’d be happy to attend your party for the evening.”
The rat leaned over the water to hand him the package. “There’s individual invitations in there,” they said, “We’ll send someone to pick you up at around seven-fourty five.”
“You don’t have–”
They shook their head. “Don’t even bother. Hunter’s gonna insist on it. He always has to have things a certain way. Just…let him.”
The Octonauts all collectively made the same vaguely concerned face.
“He’s…he’s not a bad person, alright? Everybody’s got a thing, or whatever they say,” they added.
Before anyone could say anything, they turned the motor back on and sped off into the distance at the same reckless speed.
To Shellington (the sea otter)
You’re invited to a party you’ll never forget! Haha. Hahahahahaha. The party is taking place on a big cool ship, yaayy. A boat will come at around 7:45 to pick you up. Don’t worry about the weather, the ship is AIRTIGHT. Nothing’s getting in. Or out. Haha. Murder. Food and drink will be provided. I hope to see you there!
Sincerest regards,
Hunter (the Youtuber)
Just like the rat had said, a much larger boat with more animals inside of it sped out of the horizon at seven-fourty five. The Octonauts had gotten back into the Gups to wait for them, anchored right above the Octopod. It was dark out by then, and it had started to rain lightly. The boat slowed down alongside them, and they all got onto it. Shellington had to help the Vegimals climb aboard. Then the boat sped off, and the Gups shrank into the distance.
A few minutes into the trip, Shellington heard Kwazii ask one of the workers a question. “What’s her name?
“What?” the worker said.
“The name of the ship,” Kwazii repeated, “What is it?”
“Oh. It's the La Vera.”
“A fine name,” said Kwazii.
“Why do they call ships “she” anyway?”
“Dunno. Wait, look! Land ho!” cried Kwazii.
They were coming up on a medium-sized, L-shaped island with rough, sharp edges surrounded by clusters of jagged rocks. On the short end was a beach with an old wooden dock attached to it. There were a few more boats parked at the dock, including the motorboat from earlier and another that was nearly identical to the one they were on. Anchored alongside the long end of the island was an old-fashioned cruise ship with a pointed bow and portholes and two giant smokestacks. The smokestacks were painted black, which made it seem like they stretched on forever into the dark sky. A tall metal staircase led from an opening in the side of the ship to the shore. Warm light shone from the opening.
“I have to get a picture of this,” said Dashi, pulling out her camera, “Shoot, it’s too dark to see anything on here.”
For some reason, Shellington thought, It feels…welcoming. I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s the rain.
The boat drove around the island until it reached the dock. Then, it came to a stop.
“Everybody out of the boat!” yelled the worker Kwazii had been talking to, who turned out to be a raccoon.
“Look at all ‘a this!” cried Kwazii. He jumped out of the boat and ran down the dock.
“Hey! Stay with the group!” the raccoon yelled, even though it was already too late.
Eventually, the rest of them got out of the boat. Shellington made sure to help the Vegimals, Tunip, Codish, Barrot, Grouber, Tominnow, and the other ones, onto the dock. Tunip was the last to go. As he climbed onto the wood, he looked back at Shellington.
<“Can you talk later?”> he asked.
“We could talk right now if you’d like!” Shellington replied.
<“Can't. Would take too long.”>
Shellington laughed. “If you say so! I’ll be there whenever you need me.”
<“Okay. Let's go!”> said Tunip. Then, he turned around and ran after the other Vegimals. <“Wait up!”>
Halfway to the ship, they passed an old beat up sailboat lying on the sand. As Shellington was going by, he heard creaking metal and shuffling from its direction. He whirled around and stared at the boat as it creaked and groaned some more. There was a moment or two before he noticed that someone was perched at the top of the mast. Kwazii hung onto the metal with one paw and waved at him with the other.
“Hey Shellington!” he yelled, gesturing at the rest of the boat below him, “Ye think she’s seaworthy?!”
“I don’t know. It looks a bit rusty and–” he leaned forward “–there’s no bottom.”
“She might be in a ‘lil rough shape, but consider this: she’s got a cool sail!” Kwazii replied, swinging around on it.
“I suppose so,” replied Shellington, laughing a little, “Do you need help moving it?”
Kwazii shook his head and laughed a little. “Nah mate, I'm just messing around with ya. I won’t go, don’t worry.”
“Oh, sorry. I should've known. I should work on that, hm?” Shellington said, also laughing but in a more nervous way.
“Hey it's fine! You're pretty great already,” said Kwazii.
“Really? Even when I'm too literal?” he asked.
“Even then!”
Shellington smiled. “Thanks. You're…pretty great too, Kwazii.”
Suddenly, Kwazii lost his grip on the sail and crashed down into the boat. The mast also fell over and bounced off his head.
“Kwazii?!” cried Shellington, “Are you alright?!”
He straightened up, rubbing his temple. “Yeah, yeah, I uh…lost focus. ‘Yer right though, there be no bottom here. Just some very…soft…sand.”
Shellington sighed in relief. “At least you're not hurt.”
“Yeah,” said Kwazii. After a little bit, he added “Are ya gonna head inside?”
“Yes. Do you want to walk with me?” he asked.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’ve still gotta conquer this sailboat! I’ll be there in a ‘lil bit. Seeya!” Kwazii replied.
“Bye!”
“Bye.”
By then, everyone else had long since gotten inside. The rain kept coming down at a steady paces as Shellington walked to the staircase. He stopped for a second before he climbed it and looked up into the light coming from the opening. Somehow, it seemed even brighter and more welcoming than before. He didn't know why.
As Shellington climbed up the staircase towards the hatch, the light seemed to beckon to him. He could hear faint noises coming from inside, what sounded like music and voices. He reached the top of the stairs and stood in front of the opening. The sky flashed again. He glanced down at his watch, and saw that it was 19:59. He looked back up, stepped forward, and went through the opening.
…again?
“...something feels wrong,” Shellington mumbled.
“You okay? Do you need an Advil™?” a nearby employee, a ram with curled horns on either side of her head, asked him. Aside from her, there was no one else around.
After a moment, he shook his head. “No, I…I’m alright. I don’t know what just came over me.”
“Don’t stress about it. If you need anything, ask one of us. I know we might not seem that friendly, but we’re all here to help you,” she said.
“Thank you!” Shellington replied.
She nodded and walked away, leaving Shellington behind to take in his surroundings. He was standing in front of a huge wooden staircase, several flights tall, with red carpet on the steps and intricate spiraling patterns carved on the banisters. The walls were paneled with glossy wood planks that kind of matched the stairs, and overhead a chandelier sparkled and lit up the room. To his left and right were hallways with signs that said Crew’s Quarters and Passenger’s Quarters respectively. At the top of the staircase was a sign that said 2nd Floor: Lounge, 3rd Floor: Deck.
Shellington decided to go to the lounge first, since it seemed like a place where other people would be. He climbed the staircase up to the second floor, which was an open, high-ceilinged room with fancy brown wallpaper and lots of couches and chairs arranged on the hardwood floor. There were art pieces hung on the walls, many of them old. One of them in particular caught his eye. The brass nameplant on it’s frame said Unending Labyrinth, 1901, and it was a painting of of a darkened yellow hallway that seemed to stretch on forever and ever. As he was looking at it, he heard voices further on and turned away.
At the back of the room were several pool tables with equipment stored nearby, as well as one air hockey table. Standing next to one of the pool tables were Dashi and Peso. They were holding pool sticks and talking quietly to each other. The table was set up for play, with the balls in the shape of a triangle. As Shellington moved closer to them, he was able to make out what they were saying.
“...what if a ball falls off the table?” asked Peso.
“Then it’s a foul, and the other player gets a ball-in-hand. That means they can place it wherever they want on the table before their next turn.” Dashi explained.
“What if the cue ball falls off the table?”
“Same thing, I think, except–oh, hi Shellington! Wanna play pool with us? You can be on Peso’s team. He’s solid, I’m stripes,” she said, walking over to one side of the table.
He smiled. “No thank you. I don’t know how to play, so I’ll just watch you.”
“Fine by me. You ready, Peso?”
“Um, ready!” said the penguin, raising his stick, “You can…go first.”
Dashi leaned over the table and hit the cue ball with the end of her stick. It smacked into the cluster of balls and sent them rolling in every direction. She straightened up and surveyed the table. As she was taking her turn, Shellington heard footsteps behind them. He looked back and saw that it was Kwazii walking into the room.
“What’re ye doing?” he asked.
“They’re playing pool,” Shellington replied.
“Cool! Can I join?”
“You can be on Peso’s team!” said Dashi, “Just grab a stick!”
Kwazii did what she said as Peso took his first turn. The penguin carefully positioned his stick in front of the cue ball, his grip slightly unsteady, and quickly pushed it forward. The ball flew across the table, narrowly missed one of the holes, bounced back, and hit one of the solid-colored balls before finally coming to a stop. The second ball slowly rolled towards another hole, teetered at the edge, and then fell in. All three of them cheered as he stared at the hole.
“I…did it,” Peso whispered, “Somehow.”
“Great job, Peso! My turn now,” said Dashi.
She leaned down and carefully hit the cue ball. It rolled forward and hit one of the striped balls, which hit another striped ball. Both balls landed in one hole. The whole thing happened pretty quickly. She stepped back, pride on her face.
“That was great, Dashi!” Shellington cried, clapping a little bit.
“Hey, I can do better! Watch this!!” declared Kwazii as he stepped up to the table.
He hit the cue ball hard. It shot past all of the other balls, smacked into the side of the table, bounced up, and fell onto the floor.
“...I meant to do that,” Kwazii mumbled sheepishly, his face suddenly more red than orange.
“Foul ball. I’ll get it,” said Dashi.
She walked around the table and picked up the cue ball as it bounced along the floor, but suddenly she stopped and looked down at it, frowning. She crouched and dropped the ball against one of the floorboards. It bounced a couple times and made a dull thud against the wood. She picked it up and dropped it against a different floorboard. It made a much louder, sharper sound than before. She knocked on each board with her paw, again making a dull sound and a sharp sound. She pressed her paw flat against the dull-sounding board.
“I think this is hollow,” she whispered, “And it’s loose. I think it’s a secret compartment!”
“A secret compartment? Why?” asked Peso.
“Arr! I wonder what treasures there be hidden inside!” said Kwazii.
Dashi started scratching at the edge of the board. “We won't know until we open it!”
The rest of them crowded around the board and helped her lift it up from the floor. At first it seemed like it was stuck tight where it was, but they were able to gradually lift it higher and higher, until eventually it popped free from its place. Inside it was a dark, dusty compartment that looked like it hadn’t seen the light in decades. At the bottom of the compartment was a single piece of yellowed paper, torn at the edges. Other than that, the space was empty.
Dashi picked up the piece of paper, read it over, then turned it around to show to the others. Most of it was covered with simple pencil doodles, mainly a stick figure with pointy ears doing various silly things: falling down the stairs, cooking a head of lettuce in a frying pan, and swimming in the ocean with fish. At the top of the page was a short phrase written in blue pen and scribbly handwriting.
Helm door code: remember Labyrinth + Escape
-Mallory (DO NOT steal this) (Please) (You know who you are)
“...did one of the crew write this?” Peso wondered out loud.
“That’d make it really old,” said Dashi.
“Aye! I’ll bet we can use this to get into the helm!” cried Kwazii, “If we can find out what Labyrinth + Escape means.”
Dashi squinted at the paper. “It looks like a puzzle to me. If we can just find out what Labyrinth and Escape are, we could solve it.”
“I saw a painting called Unending Labyrinth,” said Shellington.
She looked over at him. “Really? That might be it! Where’s the painting?”
“It’s right across the room!” he said,
“Show me!”
She followed him to where the dark and shadowy painting was hung on the wall. She glanced over it, and then the nameplate at the bottom.
“This could be it! Good work Shellington! We’ve got one half of the puzzle,” she said.
“Over here!” called Kwazii.
He pointed to another painting that was very similar to the first. The artstyle was slightly different, not as realistic and with more saturated colors, but the subject was recognizably the same: the same dark, shadowy, endless maze. However unlike the last painting there was a light in the distance: an open doorway at the very end of the hall, glowing and beckoning to the viewer. The nameplate read Unexpected Escape, 1904.
“Good work Kwazii!” Shellington said, grinning.
The fur on Kwazii’s face suddenly looked strangely pink. He looked away. Thanks, matey.”
“Focus guys,” said Dashi, “We have Labyrinth and we have Escape, and the note said to add them…maybe they want us to add the dates together? The code would be…3805, in that case. Do you think that’s right?”
“Only one way to find out!” replied Shellington.
“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!!” cried Kwazii.
“This is exciting but…what if we’re trespassing?” Peso asked, worridly.
Kwazii grinned. “Sometimes ye don’t ask for permission, just forgiveness.”
“That’s…not a good way to look at things…”
“Forgive me.”
They left the lounge area as a group and climbed up the stairs to the deck. The wooden floor was slick with rain, and shone in the glow of the thin stringlights that were hung above their heads. There were railings on either side, and benches everywhere. The deck was empty, other than a figure leaning against one of the far railings, which a closer look revealed it to be the more friendly ram from earlier. She was smoking some kind of cigar, methodically bringing it to her lips and back down again. The smell was very strong.
They approached her. She didn’t notice them. Shellington cleared his throat. “It’s you again! Hello!”
She turned her head towards them. She still wasn’t quite looking at them. “Eh? Oh it’s you guys. The, uh, octo…octos.”
“Sorry to bother you, but do you know where the helm is?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t hang here. Sucks.”
Kwazii stepped closer to her, and sniffed the air. “Is that–”
“This?” she asked, holding up the cigar, “This is…grass. Not that grass, I mean…it’s just grass. Literally grass. Grass from the ground.”
“Why are you smoking grass?! That’s not good for you!!” cried Peso.
“Yeah I know, it’s great. I can feel every drop of blood in my body right now.”
The penguin stepped back. “Sorry?”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“You need medical attention!” said Peso.
She turned back to the horizon. “I’ll be fiinee, don’t worry about it.”
He turned back to the rest of them. “What do I do??”
“Peso,” Dashi whispered, “I don’t think you can help her. We have to move on.”
Peso got a depressed look on his face,
“Well, I guess we’ll have to find the helm ourselves,” said Shellington.
“Or,” a new voice squawked, “You could always ask me!”
A large bird flew up and landed on the railing next to the employee. She barely reacted, only turning her head to give them a vaguely confused look before going back to the ways she was before. The bird’s body was white, and its wingfeathers were brown with white tips. It had a sharp beak made for ripping fish open, and sharper talons made for grabbing the fish in the first place. Its round, orange eyes shone with excitement, and a hint of curiosity. Shellington recognized it immediately.
“You’re an osprey!” he cried.
It bobbed its head up and down in the affirmative. “Sure am! My name is Ozzy, and I nest on this island. Who’re you guys?”
“We’re the Octonauts! I’m Shellington, and these are Kwazii, Peso, and Dashi,” he replied, pointing to each of them as he said their names.
“Nice. So, you need help, right? You need to find the helm!” it said.
“We do. Can you help us?” he asked.
Ozzy’s head bobbed up and down again. “Sure! I know this island like the back of my wing, and that includes this ship. I can point you in the right direction! For a price, of course.”
“What kind of price?”
“Well…I didn’t have a very successful hunt today,” it said, looking down, “We all have bad days, right? Anyway, I’m very hungry right now and I can smell snacks in your bag. Give me a snack, and I’ll help you. Deal?”
“Sounds good,” he said. He dug around in his satchel for the fish biscuits he kept in there just in case an animal or Grouber was hungry. He took one out and tossed it at Ozzy. It caught the snack out of the air and swallowed it in one big gulp.
“Delicious,” it said, “Okay. The helm is right there.”
It pointed with it’s wing to a large structure on the deck. It was a square-shaped building with large portholes along it’s sides. The portholes were dark, revealing nothing inside. On it was a sign that said Helm.
“It seems kinda obvious in hindsight,” said Dashi.
“The snack has already been consumed. You can’t take it back,” said Ozzy.
Shellington smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you, Ozzy.”
The bird flew away and they went to the helm. They walked around the side until they found the door. It was a large metal door with a combination lock with four slots looped around the doorknob.
“Shellington, since you found the first part of the puzzle, you should try the code,” said Dashi.
He frowned. “But Kwazii found the second half! Doesn’t he deserve to do it too?”
“Go for it, matey!” Kwazii yelled.
“If you insist,” Shellington replied. He took the lock and entered the numbers 3805 into it. Once the last number was in place, the lock popped open. He lifted it away from the door, and said “It worked!”
“Open it!” cried Kwazii.
Shellington pushed the heavy metal door open and peered into the compartment beyond. It was dark. Very dark. He couldn’t see anything except the outline of the steering wheel at the front of the room across from the door, because it was underneath one of the portholes. He took a small step inside, then another. It was very quiet. He looked all around as his eyes started to adjust. The room was very still.
He looked back at the others. “It seems-”
Suddenly, there was a noise behind him. Footsteps. A figure darted out from behind the steering wheel and walked up to him. Their gait was slow but steady.
He turned back to face them. “Hello! I didn’t see you there! Are you…”
Before he could finish his sentence, the person lifted up the knife they had been carrying. It glinted in the light from outside. Shellington trailed off as he saw it. He took a step back. The person took a step forward.
“Wait–”
Before he could really say anything, the person grabbed him by one shoulder and plunged the knife in between his ribs.
He gasped. The figure stepped back, pulling out the knife with a casual manner that suggested practice. Warm, sticky blood gushed out from the wound. There was so much of it. Too much. Shellington didn’t need medical training like Peso to tell that the knife had struck something vital. He could hear screaming. He felt light-headed.
He staggered and sank to his knees as the figure walked calmly past him. The others were all yelling by then. Shellington couldn’t keep track of it. He couldn’t keep track of Dashi’s yelps, or Peso’s terrified cries, or the way they stopped after a while and there were two sickening thud sounds one after the other. It all felt like static, garbage noise to him. Shellington couldn’t hear Kwazii at all. He hoped he was okay.
He looked back once. The figure was hunched over a motionless shape on the ground. They lifted up a small, square object. Then they stood up. Then they were gone. And then, there was someone there with him. Warm hands holding his cold ones. Desparate pleas, things like don’t go, and please, and stay with me, and I love you, and I’m sorry. It all blurred together after a while.
Distantly, he realized that he was dying. He felt sad, then scared. And then, he didn’t feel anything at all.