I just sat there, and stared at Nairobi for a moment. I should have known that he would pull something like he did and I could scarcely live with myself, having allowed him to make such a perilous decision. Nairobi was all I had left of the longest part of my life, which I now knew to have a span of 30 years (from my conversation with Captain Arik). “30 years...” I kept repeating to myself. I had spent exactly three decades alone on La Isla. I wish I could adequately describe what it was like to be so alone... so alone that I could forget the details of my past. It became so simple to cut and paste away the parts of my life that haunted me... the parts of my life that told me who I really was. Since I first saw the figure of the hulking ship offshore, these nasty memories had returned to me, and although I felt selfish and unworthy to admit it, the presence of Nairobi was the only comforting part of my life that was left... but hadn't it been (more or less) my duty to protect him? Although it was frightening to admit, in all those years on La Isla I hadn't actually felt anything. The silence in my tiny room seemed to drag on for months...

“Doc, are you OK?” Nairobi asked.

I lost my temper.

I'm not proud of it, but I couldn't contain myself. Nairobi was simply being too compassionate for his own good. He gave me the impression that he would have followed me into the mouth of an active volcano if that's where I had decided to go... and so... our argument went nowhere, and ended with me petting him and wondering what to do next. I couldn't help but feel a crazy man like myself didn't deserve such a friend... but he assured me that I did. After a few hours of chatting, I decided it was time for bed, and I told Nairobi he would have to take the top bunk.

The bed was extremely uncomfortable, and if it weren't for my size, I would have had the best sleep of my life... but I could scarcely fit inside the spartan, metal bunk. I found that if I were to lay at an angle with my head sticking out of the bed, my hind legs would just barely make it against the opposite wall. My discomfort was compounded when Nairobi decided to hop on my back halfway through the night. I didn't have the heart to push him off, so I just laid there with this hot, awkward, snoring pile of fur on me. I found myself lying awake for hours plagued by the smell of oil and the gentle humming of the engines all around me. Sleep came in fits... all... so uniform...

I was back in Nairobi's cage, pressing my muzzle into into the barred door. Once again, I could feel the cold metal floor on my paws. It was sure something to have only four... ... ... ...and there was Masaharu Feng, sitting at his desk as always. I wasn't sure how I knew he “always” sat there, but I stared intently at him. Minutes passed. Someone knocked on the door and it made me jump. Feng cautiously opened the door and a figure stepped inside. The doctor wore a morbid expression of shock... and that man in the doorway... he was so familiar... but I didn't know him...... everything faded to white...

I awoke, uneventfully, due to a rather loud “clang” from one of the decks below. Streams of light were protruding from the tiny porthole at the end of the room as I tried to keep the image of the mysterious man in my head... but it faded away so quickly. Nairobi was still asleep, his earthy coloring noticeably in contrast with my vibrant red fur. I tried to stir him... nothing... I poked him... nothing... I shook him a bit... ... ... and... he came around ever so slowly. We just looked at each other again. It seemed that these disturbing, dream-related occurrences were more likely to happen when we were near each other.

“If you keep this up I'm going to make you dream about all kinds of theories, postulates, and the like... I mean it!” I said.

Nairobi just stared at me innocently and I decided to give up. He was never very talkative in the morning. After carefully stepping out of bed, I noticed for the first time a dirty mirror suspended from the wall and had a good look at myself.

I was relieved to note that I looked a LOT better now than I had on the island. A cold shower had done a lot of good for me, and my brilliant red fur (and jet black accents) now stood out nicely against the grayish tint of the room. I had finally reached the point of being comfortable with my appearance and I examined myself for a moment. The only word I could think of to facilitate self-description was “foxtaur”... because it was really the only word that could do me justice. I noticed that my otherwise soft, vulpine face sported piercingly white whiskers... but I assumed that it was just do to my age. And so I stood there, with all four feet firmly planted on the ground... ... contemplating... After a while, a sharp rapping on the door brought me to my senses.

“Hello?” I said. More knocking.
“Who is it?” I asked, probably sounding a bit agitated.
“Aye, it's Captain Arik...” He said, from behind the door.
“Oh, Captain... I didn't realize it was you...” I said, slowly opening the door.

The captain stepped in and suddenly froze, his gaze fixed on Nairobi.

“Ah... you're probably wondering where he came from, aren't you?” I said.

The captain just gave me a stare like I had burst his final cluster of brain cells.

“You see... he stowed away in my suitcase... ... ...used to live with me on the island...” I said. More silence.
“Ahem... sorry.” I said.

Captain Arik burst out laughing.

“Oy... Miles, you're jus' full o' surprises aren't ya?” He said, barely keeping himself collected.
“So... you don't mind?” I asked.
“Not at all, lad...” He said. “From the moment we met, I knew ya would be nothing but unusual!” He placed his hand on my back in a kind gesture, smiling.
“But, erm... I did come in 'ere for a reason...” He said, his expression suddenly becoming more serious.
“And what is that?” I asked.
“Er, well, I suppose ya could say I want to introduce ya to me crew...” He said. My ears flipped back.
“And... why exactly would you want to put me through that?” I asked.
“Well... uh... you see...” He began. “After Nick left me stranded t' other night... he returned to the ship... and... er... said some things... and now the crew's gettin' kind of edgy, especially after the guys who were operatin' the winch started tellin' all kinds of stories about you...”
“You mean stories about some kind of mutant fox-thing on the ship...” I said, my ears wilting.
“Well, to be honest with ya... “ He said. “er, something like that.”

I tried to talk the captain out of it, but it was no use. He led me to a room on one of the lower levels of the deckhouse, near the galley... or to be more precise, he led me to the doorway of said room. Upon arriving, I stopped short and planted myself on my haunches. The pungent smell of fear (really anxiety) was wafting from inside and I could hear a few dozen people chattering. I couldn't believe it... Arik really did mean that the entire crew of 58 were in there. After years of seclusion, the idea of being near so many people terrified me... and I refused to go in. Captain Arik seemed unperturbed and walked right past me into the rec-room.

“A'right...” He said to the crowd. “I've told ye most of what Mr. Miles told me... and I brought 'im down here to see ya as promised so we've got no more misunderstandings... ... ...” There was a long pause.
“OK... you can come in now...” He said. I didn't answer.
“Oy...” Arik said. There was a giggle from somewhere in the crowd.

It wasn't long before Arik returned to the doorway. He looked angry for a moment, but the expression quickly diffused when he saw me visibly shaking in the hallway.

“Come on! It ain't so bad. Really.” He whispered to me. I shook my head.
“Yer really gonna keep them waiting?” He asked. I nodded. He paused for a moment.
“Why not just stick yer head in fer a second?” He said.

I nervously took a step forward for a moment, as if considering his offer, when Captain Arik did something that truly shocked me. As soon as my front paw left the ground, he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me inside. I immediately backed into the unoccupied corner near the door as I shower of gasps met me head on. Luckily, the captain knew I was unstable and remained by my side for the entire time, despite the fact that I dug my claws into his arm a bit. After a few awkward moments, Arik could see that he wasn't going to get much out of me and spoke up again.

“OK, you've seen 'im... 'es harmless... ... ...back to work.” He said.

There was a general sigh of relief in the room as crew members slowly filed out through the narrow door. I got the impression that I hadn't exactly put the crew at ease, but what had the captain expected? The last thing I would have done was to give a speech or to try and elicit a response (other than the implicit, negative one) from the crowd. I waited anxiously for the last few people to exit... but two remained. One was a fairly young woman with blond hair while the other was an older man with a hardened complexion. She came right up to me, undeterred, while the man (presumably a friend of hers) remained close behind. Captain Arik was still to my left.

“Oh, isn't he the sweetest thing!” She said, placing her hand right on my head. The rather unexpected response from this young woman caused me to recoil in surprise.
“It's alright sweetie!” She said. “I'm Joan, the ship's cook.”

Joan now extended her right hand in a universally recognized gesture. The man behind her was staring rather intensely at me with a look on his face that said something to the effect of “be nice to her or I'll rip your head off”. I did the only thing that made sense, and shook her hand. She tried to pet me between the ears and this time I let her do it.

“Just come by the kitchen any time. I'll make whatever you like...” She said, smiling. Joan really knew how to get my attention. Any shyness I was harboring went right out the window.
“Anything?” I asked.
“Anything.” She replied. There was a short pause, and Joan started to walk out the door.
“I'll be sure to do that miss...” I started.
“Joan.” She interrupted. I waved to Joan as she disappeared down the hall.

That night, I finally gave up on the bed and transferred all the bedding I could find to the floor. I spent hours awake, brooding over the events of the day. Had I really been that afraid of a room full of people? Why did that Joan lady like me so much? These were questions I could not answer. As usual, sleep came in fits and I rarely felt relaxed.

I knew I wasn't supposed to be there... The walls were lined with vials and equipment... but again, so unfamiliar... I began to search through the boxes and supplies, when a feeling of cold pressure caused me to stop short. I turned around and a hardened stare met mine... he pulled the trigger.

I awoke with a start. If I hadn't been a fox I would have surely broken into a cold sweat. The room began to spin, and it took me several minutes to recover from the disturbing dream. After waking Nairobi, I was shocked to find that he had not been dreaming the same thing. In fact, he looked rather upset that I had disturbed him. It was such an eerie dream... and like nothing I had ever experienced. I tried to shake it off. “It's just stress” I told myself, but I felt uneasy. I did the only thing I could think of. I cleaned up the tiny room and went for a stroll about the ship.

Dawn was approaching, and wisps of light on the horizon were mingling with the sounds of the great ship, creaking and grunting its way across the sea. All was quiet and lonely, except for the sound of the inspection crew that passed by occasionally. They were extremely busy inspecting the containers and were hardly disturbed by my presence. Except for the occasional stare from one of the inspectors, I was at ease. However, one thing struck me as odd: a few of the inspectors looked exceedingly nervous as they navigated about the containers. One of the men kept pulling a slip of paper from his pocket, trying to match a number with one on the container. “Where is it?” I head one of the men ask. “It's nothing” I thought. “I bet they just made an inventory mistake or something...” A couple hours later, tired and hungry, I decided to take Joan up on her offer and slowly went off in search of the kitchen.

I arrived at the rather unimpressive galley/dining area first thing in the morning. Nobody was inside, except for Joan, who was absentmindedly running a cast-iron pan under the sink. She immediately looked over at me, as if she had expected me to arrive any moment. She dropped the pan, walked over to me quickly, and spoke.

“Oh, hello there darling! What can I get for you?” She asked.
“er... well... I...” I stuttered.

Joan gently put her hand on my back and led me over to the counter. She lifted the cast-iron pan from the sink and placed it on a gas burner in a way that was utterly mechanical, like she had done it a thousand times... The pan was contained by a metal railing so it wouldn't slide off the stove as the ship rocked.

“Since you're not saying much, will these do?” She asked, holding up a few thick strips of bacon.
“Sure...” I said, trailing off.

I watched Joan's sad, deep-green eyes as she carefully placed the bacon in the pan, accompanied by a few eggs. Joan began to stroke me gently between the ears with her clean hand as she continued to work away. I sat there, fixed at the spot she had directed me to. Of course “directed” was a rather harsh word. There was absolutely nothing threatening about this woman... although she had me utterly puzzled. I couldn't understand how someone could be so kind to me. In a moment of utter bluntness, I spoke up.

“Why exactly do you like me so much?” I asked, flatly. Joan looked surprised for a moment and then her expression regained its endearing tone. I blushed a bit (invisibly of course), realizing just how tactless I had been.
“You're not used to getting much attention, are you?” She asked, still petting me.
“Not really...” I said.
“But... um... really.... why are you being so kind to me?” I asked.

Joan just shook her head at me, smiling.

Several minutes passed, and Joan brought me the plate of bacon and eggs. She sat down at the table, right next to me, and I apologized for being so tactless. Her response was a very forgiving one as usual. After the best meal I had eaten in 30 years, I remained, chatting idly with the young cook, but when the room finally started to fill up I promptly decided to leave. Her farewell was always the same: “Come back any time you like!”... I never understood Joan.

And so, life aboard the Ultima Speranza was very regular (or perhaps I made it that way). After a brief discussion with the captain, I discovered that we still had 2 weeks to go before arriving at the Port of Portland in Oregon. My time did not go to waste though. Captain Arik gave me access to one of the ship's computers which I used to catch up on current events. (30 years worth of events to be exact.) The 21st century struck me as truly amazing. I couldn't believe the speed with which the computer could retrieve information from something called “the Internet”. When I left civilization, computers had been the limited, clunky tools of scientists and thinkers. Now, they were the glue holding society together. Just breathtaking. For about a week, I did nothing but read about the latest technology and events. I learned everything I could about this brave (and mildly terrifying) new world. My only reprieve from the relentless pursuit of knowledge was the occasional trip to go see Joan. I grew very talkative but I don't think it bothered her.

For a while I really thought things would get better for me, until I overheard a conversation one night whilst strolling amongst the containers. I peeked ever so carefully about the corner to see Nick huddled up with a few other men. I instantly recognized the other crew members as part of the inspection crew. The ensuing banter made my blood run cold.

“I told you! It's container 6174e!” Nick shouted.
“We couldn't find it! You're probably too stupid to even remember a damn number!” Said one man.
“Yeah! You're the one who had this brilliant idea! Why weren't you with us!?!? You settin' us up or something?” Said a second man. Nick grew enraged.
“You IDIOTS! I've been doing this for a long time and I know how to make sure it goes unnoticed. If anything goes wrong It'll be your fault and you're the one who's gonna die!” Nick said.
“Then... er... what are we gonna do?” Said a third man.
“Look, all you guys have to do is check on it. I'll handle the old man. The key is under my mattress. I have to go on watch at 10:00 PM tonight so I'm gonna leave it stuck in my door jam. That's where you come in Alex.” Nick said.
“What do you mean?” Asked the third man.
“Aww, come on you imbecile! At 10:00, you walk casually by my door and take the key. Meet up with Jack and Paul here and go check on it. That's all you gotta do! Now get outta here before someone notices.” Nick said.
“But my shift doesn't end until 11:00!” Said the third man.
“Then do it at 11:00! What the hell do I care!?!?” Nick barked.

I bolted back to my small room, never looking back to see if they had noticed me. What was going on? Something about Nick had always bothered me but I had never suspected him of conspiracy. He seemed to have something to hide from the captain. Determined to get an answer, I casually walked past Nick's room at about 10:08 PM. The presence of a small gold key in the door jam served to remind me of the reality of my situation. “OK. I'll just take a look, and get the key back before 11:00 PM. Nobody will ever know.” I repeated to myself.

It was dark, and the subtle noises of the ship now seemed more ominous than before. I ran quickly about the containers, looking for one marked “6174e”. The containers were several stories high in most places, but I assumed the one I was looking for would have to be on the lower level. It was getting dangerously late, and I was about to give up when I finally spotted it. A great red shipping container stood on the deck of the ship (amongst hundreds). It was corrugated and rusty, with a messy “6174e” spray-painted on the outside. I approached it, and inserted the gold key into a pristine Master lock. It clicked ever so subtly, and what happened next was truly terrifying...

The door opened with a hiss... unusual for an old, beat-up shipping container... but this was no ordinary shipping container. It must have been some kind of specialized containment device in disguise because the inside looked pretty advanced. The walls were lined with stainless-steel retaining clips and the floor was smooth and spotless. Inside were rows of precisely labeled vials in industrial racks. There were dozens of boxes of paper carefully lined up across the walls. Whoever packed the container seemed to think that it was critical for everything to remain sealed and undamaged. Upon stepping inside, I made a discovery that confirmed my worst suspicions.

I took one of the vials from the wall. Unbelievable... ... ... I felt weak, on the verge of collapse. The tiny, carefully printed label simply read: “Sample of: 19c, Laboratory: Cheng International”. It appeared to be a variation of my virus! “Maybe it's not too late!” I thought. “Perhaps I can stop this!” My hope quickly diminished however, when I saw a shipping order that was taped to the wall. “Ship to: Shimmering Future BioMedical Facility, Nevada Headquarters” It said. Under that was the text “Shipment no: 17”. My heart sank. This was simply one shipment of many, and Nick was behind it all! I couldn't believe it. There was no way in which he could have actually known what he was doing. That stupid man had placed countless lives at stake by transporting this stuff... And furthermore, what on Earth was the “Shimmering Future BioMedical Facility”...? I must have gotten carried away because a lot of time passed without my notice. After placing some of the paperwork inside my jacket, I prepared to leave. I was ever so slightly too late!

There was Nick, crazy-eyed, standing in the doorway of the container. He pointed his revolver straight at me (he must have gotten another) and walked inside.

“It's the end of the line for you now, freak” He said.

Nick thrust me against the opposite wall of the container and pressed the gun against my head. He cocked it.

“Too bad you can't just dispatch me, eh?” I said.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked, that mad glint still in his eye.
“Well, if you kill me now, I bet somebody will notice... namely Captain Arik” I said. Nick loosened his grip on the pistol.
“Heh... good idea puppy... you can leave now...” He said.
“What?” I asked. Nick brought the pistol to my head again.
“You can leave... go back to your little room... and say NOTHING or you'll be dead so fast you won't see it coming... You probably don't even have a clue what this stuff is, huh?” He said.
“Oh... oh, not at all....” I lied.

Nick literally kicked me out the door of the container. I ran back to my room in a panic... unsure of what I could do. I was still shaken up by my near-death experience. That night, I didn't sleep, I just sat on the floor with one eye trained on my door latch. My experience in the container had been exactly like the dream I had a few days before!

I waited out the week, hardly leaving the room for anything.

I woke up, after some broken sleep, on the morning of the day we were supposed to reach land and decided to take action. It was just about dawn, and I knew I had only a few hours to act before we would reach the port. I hadn't told Nairobi the details of what had happened, so he was naturally worried about me... but there was no time. I straightened up my tiny room for the last time and then left with Nairobi. I brought him down to the galley and thankfully Joan was there early, as usual. She looked puzzled at the sight of him.

“Um...” Joan began. I was panicked.
“Look, I don't have any time! See, this is Nairobi. He's a fox... or more precisely, he's a talking Kitsune fox... right?... ... ... Nairobi, say something...”I said, interrupting her.
“Um, hello...” Nairobi whimpered. Joan's eyes lit up.
“But... how?” Joan began.
“Again, I don't have any time... but I need you to take care of him. All I ask is that you keep Nairobi safe. I can't explain everything right now, you just have to trust me!” I said. I thrust Nairobi into her arms.
“But... I...” Joan began.
“Just take him!” I shouted, probably scaring her a bit. I couldn't afford to get sentimental.

Joan finally accepted Nairobi and I left the galley without so much as another word. I heard Joan start to say “Well... hello there...” to the little fox. I felt bad for being so frantic but I knew that Joan would keep him safe, and I knew that I could no longer accept the responsibility. (I was sure that things were about to get very dangerous for me.)

After leaving Joan to puzzle over my equally strange friend, I bolted up several flights of stairs and arrived at the door of the wheelhouse. I banged on it frantically with my clawed hands until a crew member cautiously opened the door. I flung myself through the doorway, nearly knocking the man over. There was no one inside the wheelhouse except for myself, the captain, and the man guarding the door. I had already begun to shout “Captain! It's a conspiracy! Nick's been running a smuggling operation on the Ultima!” when I recognized the guard as Alex from earlier. Time seemed to slow as he reached for something on his belt. I ran toward him with all my might and slammed my right fist into his face. The man fell to the ground with a resounding thump. (I was actually quite surprised that I had managed to do such a thing... I'd never hit anyone before in my life...)

Shaken by the terrible goings-on in the wheelhouse, the captain jumped to his feet. Now he, Captain Nathaniel Arik, pulled a small black revolver from his belt and pointed it at me.

“STAY RIGHT WHERE YE' ARE!” He screamed.
“Captain... didn't you see? He was going to kill me.” I said, whimpering.
“All I know is ye' came in 'ere hollerin' an' screamin' at me... an' now yer gonna tell me exactly what's goin' on!” He shouted.
“Captain... It's Nick! He's been using the Ultima to smuggle biochemical agents from some Asian laboratory! And they've got my virus!” I yelled back.
“Whadya mean!?!? Nick is me son, he ain't that crazy, he wouldn't do somethin' like that!” Arik said.
“He's your son?” I said, all too quietly.

I slipped the paperwork from my jacket, very slowly so that Arik wouldn't shoot me, and slid it across the floor to his feet. He carefully picked it up and scanned through the pages. The expression on his weathered face turned from fear to horror. After a few moments, Arik placed the gun back in its holster... and seemed to stop for a moment.

“Captain?” I inquired, drawing closer.
“I... I KNEW IT!” Arik screamed hysterically.
“You... you did?” I asked.
“I knew it... all these years... I knew he was doin' somethin'... but I didn't think... ... ...Moreau, I thought I was gonna lose him... We had our rough times an' all... and... and...” Arik said, a single tear streaming down his face.
“You mean... you didn't look into what he was doing because of your relationship?” I asked.
“Aye, Miles, oh... It was really my fault... I used ter be different ya know... I was a selfish man... Jessica left me... and Nick never forgave me fer it.... we argued for years an' years and I just couldn't take it anymore... I gave him a position on me ship and fer a while, I really thought we'd patched things up... I couldn't stand to do anythin' that might open up ol' wounds again...” He replied.

I really felt terrible for the old captain. Yes, he had known that Nick was doing something illegal, but not the magnitude of it all. Arik was such an honorable man, and it pained me to see the sorrow of his past coming through... (but his life is a whole different story). I spoke with the captain for a few minutes to make sure he was okay... and then I told him all the details of 19. I told him that Nick had held a gun to my head. I told him about the conversation between Nick and his fellow crew members... I told him everything. The captain and I both agreed that we needed to call the authorities. Then, he patted me on the back and told me that this was all “his concern”. Arik asked that I return to my quarters and lay low. It was the last time I would ever see him.

Alas, the well-meaning captain had offered me nearly fatal advice. Upon leaving the wheelhouse, I could see the Port of Portland growing extremely close. Arik had just radioed the authorities and I could see black-and-white cars beginning to congregate near the docks. Upon arriving back at the door to my small room, I felt an all-too-familiar pressure against the back of my head.

I could see the reflection of Nick in a puddle on the deck, his face contorted with madness. He began to cock the gun (a process which seemed to take hours).

“You've really done it this time, puppy.” He said.