“Got it.” Shin tapped the screen, displayed a menu, and touched an icon. Red letters read “DISCHARGE” and on-screen, the drone’s camera cleared. The jellyfish were backing away, what had been a deep crimson color shifting to yellow. Here and there, dots of black, indigo, and laser-green flashed, only to be repeated by the closest jellyfish and passed along. As quickly the orange-red color began to appear again, spreading through the cluster.
“Get it back now,” Yoshimura said. “Before they can grab it again.”
And, sure enough, the jellyfish had retreated out to reform the tunnel around the UUV.
“Full reverse,” Shin muttered. And the drone went flying backwards as the jellyfish turned crimson and began undulating to close the trap.
“I’ll be damned,” Yoshimura whispered. “Did you see how well organized they were? I can’t wait to watch the replay. Study it in detail. That’s organized behavior, and the colors, that looks like they were communicating, orchestrating the hunt.”
“Got grapples on the UUV,” Shin cried triumphantly. “It’s back in its bay.”
“How we going to get that one back?” Yoshimura indicated the deep drone. Awaiting commands, it hovered at its same location. Below, the bottom was carpeted by what Kalico took to be greenish-blue plants. Though some defied description, being composites of tentacles, branches, bladders, and stems, others hearkened to analogs from land. Like the one that looked like a bright-green lollipop stand.
“Steer clear of that one.” Kalico pointed. “If it’s in any way related to the giant trees that live out by Tyson Station, it’s a predator. And, given that the plants move, and if the jellyfish are any guide, if any of them grab hold of the UUV, it’s not going to let go.”
“Good point.” Yoshimura used a control to swivel the camera upwards. “Looks like the jellyfish are all staying a couple of meters up.”
“Maybe they’re restricted to just below the surface?” Shinwua wondered.
“See these really tall plants?” Kalico pointed to where long turquoise strands rose to a couple of meters below the surface. “The jellyfish seem to stay above their reach.”
Meanwhile, the colorful tubes were darting this way and that among the plants. One appeared within a few centimeters of the camera, and Yoshimura refocused to get a better look.
“Definitely trilateral symmetry,” Yoshimura said reverently. “Each of the three sides is exactly the same. One eye on each. What a perfect adaptation to an aquatic environment. Complete three-hundred-and-sixty-degree vision.”
“Dya would have loved this,” Kalico said softly. “I’m not even close to an expert, but I think Iji is going to see one land-based analog after another in the aquatic plants we’re observing here.”
“If they’re really plants.” Yoshimura pointed. “See that petal-shaped thing? Looks like a plant, but it’s moving, and I’d swear those are eyes. See? Right in the middle of each of the three leaves.”
Even as they watched, the three big spatulate leaves shifted, aligned, as if targeting, and faster than Kalico could see, a slim tendril shot out from what she’d thought was the stem. It speared a tube that had its attention fixed on the drone. As the hunter reeled the tube back, the nearest plants shifted, roots spurting sand; the plants extended feelers, leaves, and tentacles as they tried to snatch the prize. The spatulate-leafed creature artfully dodged and tucked its captured tube close, the broad leaves folding down around the prey like a tight wrapping.
“What’s that?” Shinwua asked. He hit reverse, then play, skilled fingers enlarging the image on the monitor. “Here, see. Where the sand is kicked up by the roots. Those things. What are they?”
“Look like invertebrates,” Kalico said. “But nothing like the ones on land. It’s just the colorful shells. These are, well . . .”
Some of the things looked more like impossible crosses between a beetle, a trilobite, and a crayfish. Others might have been three-sided hard-shelled cuttlefish kinds of things. Others defied category, being colorful composites of shells, flickering cilia, and fan-like wings. She couldn’t tell the scale, but the biggest of the creatures might have been a couple of centimeters long. And as quickly, they were hidden back in the shadows of the larger plants.
“A wealth,” Yoshimura said through a reverent breath. “Even if all we had was this one record, we’re going to be engrossed for years. I’ve got a—”
“Woah!” Shinwua called, his eyes on another of his monitors. “Sonar has something big headed our way from offshore.”
“The jellyfish have vanished,” Kalico noted. She tapped the replay, watching in fascination as the jellyfish lost all their myriad colors, turning completely transparent. Like they had just faded away and disappeared.
“See if the drone can get a look,” Yoshimura told Shinwua.
Shinwua’s skilled hands turned the drone, pointed it at the endless aqua of deepwater, and started it forward.
Kalico happened to be gazing at the sonar, seeing an elongated shape coming in from the side. And then it shot forward.
Switching her gaze to the drone’s camera, she caught a glimpse of something like three very broad swords, equally spaced at one-hundred-and-twenty-degree angles and attached to a cylindrical central body where triangular jaws . . .
This thing is huge!
The swords flashed down and in, meeting just out of the camera’s field of view. The image jerked, went black.
“What the hell?” Shinwua cried. He was jockeying with his joystick.
Kalico stared at the sonar, seeing the elongated shape, maybe thirty meters of it, flash through where the meter-long UUV had been.
She ran to the starboard window, pushed it open, and stared down.
Through the crystal water, she could see it. Patterns of color ran down the tapering body; what looked like lines of stubby wings, but were probably fins, ran the dorsal length of the body, but remained indistinct through the surface distortion.
The plants in the immediate vicinity had faded, as if they’d lost their color. The water’s surface around the seatruck was roiling; tubes actually jetted out of the water, sailing for several meters before splashing back, only to jet again. So did several other, larger creatures, including one with four wings that sailed for quite some distance.
Down below the monster turned, and with a flip and twist, it shot back toward the depths and vanished.
“I’ve got nothing,” Shinwua said from the control panel. “The drone’s dead. What the hell could do that?”
On the other side of the seatruck, Yoshimura had opened the door. Leaning out, he extended one of his cameras so that the lens was underwater. “Shin, I’ve got bad news for you. I’ve got a piece of your drone here. Looks like it was sheered in two. I mean, whatever that thing was, it cut through the plastic hull like it was cheese. Sliced the wires, everything.”
“It happened so fast,” Shinwua muttered in wonder. “I tell you, nothing on earth can do that.”
“What makes you think you’re still on Earth?” Kalico called, closing her window. “Dr. Yoshimura, I think the UUVs are going to take some rethinking before we send them out again.”
He nodded, pulled in his camera, and closed the door. “Take us ashore, Shin. At least we can get a look at the beach. If we don’t come back with sand samples for Lara, she’ll just have to make another trip and do it herself. Not to mention that we’ll have to put up with the look.”
“What look?” Talina asked.
Yoshimura gave her a knowing grin. “It’s her ‘you’re-a-real-piece-of-work’ look. The one she gives you when she thinks a five-year-old could have done a better job.”
“You don’t want her giving you that look,” Shinwua agreed. “It’s really humbling.”
Kalico muttered, “Well, I guess I’d better not get myself in a position where I’m compared to a five-year-old. I get humble
d enough as it is.”
“That thing is just hovering out there, like it’s watching us.” Yoshimura stared pensively at the sonar screen. “Maybe it’s afraid of Lara, too.”
Shin chuckled and sank teeth into his lower lip. The man turned the wheel and ran them through the surf, the seatruck’s balloon tires extending from their wells in the hull as the vehicle lumbered up on the sand. He brought it to a stop three meters up from the wave line and at the foot of low cream-colored dunes. Bits of scrubby vegetation—something that looked like white-spotted succulents—grew in lace-like patterns across the dune face.
“Wait,” Kalico called as Yoshimura opened the door. “Take a good hard look before you step out. Give it a couple of minutes so we can see if anything comes to investigate. Shin, keep an eye on the sky. No telling what those polka dots are that you’ve seen. Or who knows what else might be flying around.”
“It’s just a couple of samples,” Yoshimura told her.
“Yeah,” Kalico agreed. “The good news is that there’s no root mat. It’s wide open. We can see for a kilometer in every direction. The only place anything big can camouflage itself is back in the dunes, not on this flat sand. And listen, if something pops up, freeze until I can shoot it. Hopefully, like with mobbers, if whatever it is doesn’t recognize you as prey, it might ignore you.”
“You got it.” Yoshimura told her. “Thank God you came along, Supervisor. I mean, we’ve listened, tried to learn. But having you here, it really brings this place home.”
She opened the roof hatch and climbed up until she had a good view in all directions. Fifty meters to the south along the flat strip of sand, she could see some kind of life-forms—maybe the size of footballs—that charged in and out of the surf. In the distance to the north, a collection of flying hunters were diving into the breakers, but they were a good half a kilometer away.
Wind whipped her hair around as she studied the dunes, seeing no movement, no tracks. Nothing made a mound, no shape that wasn’t entirely natural.
As she glanced back at the surf, the seatruck’s tracks where it had rolled out of the water were being scrubbed away. Out beyond the breakers, something stuck up. Dark, gleaming, like a tennis-ball-sized eye on a stalk. She had no clue what it might be. Then it slipped back into the water, leaving only the long breaker to crest and waste itself on a retreating wave.
“Supervisor?” Yoshimura called up. “You see anything?”
She gave one last look at the sky, checked the flying things up north; they seemed to be going the other way.
“No.” She dropped down through the roof hatch. “But I don’t like it. Can you just throw these sample jars out, maybe tied to a string or something?”
“Lara’s going to want them filled according to protocol. That means opening the jar, using the scoop to take a core, filling, and resealing the jar. She’ll want one from the closest dune, one from the tidal sand, and one from where the waves are washing.” Yoshimura paused. “Got to take a risk, Supervisor. If we don’t, we’ll never be able to do our jobs, and damn it, we’ve spent twelve years getting here already.”
“We’ll split up,” Shin said. “Yosh, you take the dune. Supervisor, you get the tidal zone, and I’ll get the wet one. Won’t take us but three minutes. Then we can hotfoot back inside, drive around the dunes in safety, or float offshore taking soundings with the underwater sensing gear. Maybe deploy one of the cameras for underwater photography.”
“Works for me,” Yosh said. “Supervisor?”
Kalico took a deep breath. “We go fast. But I take the dune sample. It’s farthest from the seatruck. I’m faster, and I’m armed. Dr. Yoshimura, you take the tidal zone. Shinwua, you’re in the wave-washed zone. Each of you: get out, get that sample, and get back. If anything’s gone to sucking snot, Yosh drives to the rescue. Got it?”
“Sure thing.”
Yoshimura broke out the sample jars. Clear glass with a stainless-steel top, each held a half liter. Attached to the side was the disposable plastic scoop. It looked simple: Drive the scoop into the sand and twist it to take a core. Lift the scoop free and insert it into the jar. Press the tab on the handle, and it would release the sample as the scoop was withdrawn. Then screw the cap tight and record the provenience on the label.
“Any questions, Supervisor?” Yosh asked.
“Nope. Let’s do this, people. Just stay frosty and don’t linger.” Kalico checked her pistol, opened the door, and leaped out onto the packed sand.
She didn’t run headlong, but she sure didn’t tarry either. Hurrying, she kept one hand on her pistol, the other holding the sample jar.
The first thing that hit her was the smell: musky, damp, almost like a pungency. The odor wasn’t unpleasant, but heavy with salt and wet sand, possessed of a tang that might have been from the plants. At each step, invertebrates broke from where they’d been hidden beneath the surface, skittering a meter or more away from her booted foot to burrow without a trace into the creamy sand. They did so with remarkable speed.
The salt-scented sea breeze batted at Kalico’s hair, ruffled her coveralls, and patted her cheeks. Capella’s light warmed her, the primary’s rays reflecting whitely off the beach. She felt inexplicably free. Surrounded by beauty.
Something in Kalico’s memory smacked of Yucatan, or maybe South Padre in the Gulf of Mexico. The kind of place that begged for a beach chair, a cooler, and a day of relaxation and decompression.
Yeah, right, she chided herself.
She trotted up onto the first of the dunes, pistol half drawn as she scanned the wind-sculpted rise. Checked behind the slip face. Nothing. And she made sure to stay well clear of the closest of the succulent plants, not trusting their innocent shape, let alone the reach of their roots, however hidden they might be.
She shot a glance back. Yoshimura was filling his sample jar. On the other side of the seatruck, Shinwua was down on one knee, coring his sample. Just a flash of something out beyond the breakers caught her attention. Movement. She thought she glimpsed the eye-topped stalk again, but it could have been a leaping tube or some other sea creature.
Kalico dropped to a knee, unscrewed the lid, and used the scoop to fill the jar. Vacuum simple. Now Lara wouldn’t give her that notorious scowl.
Kalico stood as she screwed the lid tight, took one last look around.
It wouldn’t be a bad place to come back to. Maybe. After the surveys had been done and the dangers accounted for. It had been a long time since she’d had a place as remote, beautiful, and beckoning call to her.
She turned, started back to the seatruck. Yoshimura was just climbing into the cabin.
Shinwua, however, was standing in the wash of the waves, back to her as he stared out at the surf. His sample jar hung from one hand as he craned his neck, as if searching the breakers for something.
“Come on,” Kalico whispered, breaking into a dogtrot. “Whatever it is, we’ll look for it with the cameras.”
She had almost reached the seatruck, had just taken a breath to call to Shinwua when the creature shot out of the water. Fast. A blurred image of something slashing shoreward through the curl of a breaker. The curving long blades glistened a steely blue in Capella’s hard light. As if exploding from the surf, the creature flew up the beach with uncanny speed.
Kalico broke into a run, took in the body behind the three extended blades: cylindrical, as big around as an oil drum and dazzling with shimmering rainbow colors. Stalk-fixed eyes, two of which were raised high and fixed on Shinwua, gleamed like polished midnight. The third was tucked tightly below the gaping mouth. The front of the thing—on which each of the broad blades hinged—enlarged, opening wide to display three tooth-studded jaws and a black gullet.
“Shin! Run!” she cried.
But the man stood riveted, as if in a trance.
The monster sped onto the shore, sand and water flying in s
purts as it dug into the beach with parallel lines of paddle-like flippers. It came on like a greyhound, sleek and agile for all of its length.
The creature was gorgeous; laser-bright reds, gold, deep black, viridian greens, and pulsing blues dazzled on its hide, luminous in Capella’s light. Kalico had an image of sun-red shading into bright splotches of yellow and remarkable violet patterns that shifted and pulsed on its water-sleek sides.
Shinwua’s spell broke, and the man wheeled around. Maybe, if he’d been fit instead of half-starved after all the years in Ashanti, he might have made it. He was reaching for the door when the slashing scimitars flashed closed. The lower ones swept in from either side. Caught Shinwua in the hips. The third cut cleanly down the side of his head, peeling the man’s scalp and ear off his skull and sheering through the collar bone. As it did the lower two pinched together, slicing up, stopping just under the ribs.
The sample jar dropped from Shinwua’s nerveless fingers to thump and roll on the sand.
Kalico glimpsed the man’s horrified face, watched blood well and spurt on bared skull where his scalp and ear were sliced away. The skin from his head was hanging limply, mindful of a soggy red rag that flopped on his shoulder.
“No!” Kalico bellowed, sliding to a stop. She clawed her pistol from its holster as the shimmering beast lifted Shinwua and spun. Clutched in the deadly blades, Shinwua’s body was flung around and flopped like a limp doll’s. The predator was maybe thirty meters in length with a long, tubular body that narrowed into a pencil-thin tail. Water streaked out of vents just behind the line of flipper feet. As the beast turned, the flippers cupped the sand like scoops. One of the stalk-topped eyes was staring at Kalico, keeping track of her as the thing headed for the sea.
Kalico dropped to a knee, sighted. She shot to center of mass. Saw no effect, shot again, and again, and again as the terrible beast raced for the surf.
She continued to fire as the creature charged into the waves with its grisly prize.
When her pistol clicked on empty, all that remained were the endless breakers, curling, crashing, and rushing up to erase the monster’s tracks as if it had never been.
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