Corrie turned the camera toward him, and they bent their heads together to see the tiny screen. Corrie flipped to a picture that showed the largest amount of tentacle then zoomed in. Every sucker was in crisp detail, and even healed scars showed on the creature’s arm.
“Wait,” Zeb said. He pointed at the screen. “Zoom in on the base of the tentacle. We can almost see the body.”
Corrie moved the image around. Sure enough, through the green water, dark body was visible. Zeb squinted.
“What’s on the skin?”
They leaned closer. Corrie’s hair tickled Zeb’s ear.
“It looks like—” Corrie frowned. “Is that a horn?”
“There’s a st—unicorn fish right beside it,” Zeb said. “Why was it chasing our slime trail if it had a unicorn fish right there?”
“Unless the unicorn fish is attached to the tentacle thing,” Corrie said with growing excitement. “Think about it. Why else would the unicorn fish have a strange flat spot on its ventral side? That’s it. It’s like a remora, sucked onto the side of the tentacle thing. Yes! They’re symbiotic somehow. The tentacle thing isn’t hunting unicorn fish. It’s collecting them.”
“What for?”
“That’s another question.” Corrie looked puzzled then brightened. “A question for the future. They must be important to the tentacle thing, though, because it’s finely tuned to sense them in the water.”
“But why didn’t the tentacle thing collect the school of unicorn fish that we saw first?”
Corrie frowned in puzzlement.
“Maybe—maybe it’s a signal that the unicorn fish gives out when it wants the protection of the tentacle thing.” Excitement warmed her voice. “Yes! Maybe they only produce slime when they’re scared, like getting caught in a net and being held captive in a tank. It’s a working hypothesis, anyway.”
That was something that Zeb hadn’t been told. What other secrets were lurking in the ocean? Once again, he had to restrain himself from leaping overboard to find them.
KRISTA
Zeb marched into the wheelhouse, his face stormy, fearful, and hopeful all at once. Corrie was right behind him, wild-eyed, and Jules brought up the rear, looking confused. They all squeezed into the tiny wheelhouse. Krista shuffled sideways with pursed lips.
“What are you all doing here?” she said. “I don’t remember inviting you to invade my space.”
“I did,” said Zeb. Shades of their father’s gruff authority laced through his tone, and Krista grimaced. Apparently, there was an afterlife, if only through one’s children. “Corrie and I just saw a—” Zeb took a deep breath. He was clearly struggling to compose himself, although Krista wondered if anyone but her would notice. “Something huge and tentacled in the water. Way bigger than any known octopus or squid.”
“I’m calling it the tentacle thing for now,” said Corrie. “But I’m open to suggestions.”
Krista ignored her.
“What are you talking about?” she said in a quelling voice. That was all she needed, another creature for Zeb to obsess over. Maybe her mission was a futile one. How could she take care of her little brother, get him away from all this nonsense, if the odds were so stacked against her? And what the hell was with all these creatures, anyway? She growled internally at Clicker’s memory. Why had she filled Zeb’s head with mystery? Couldn’t she have left him to be a regular kid?
“We can prove it,” Zeb said stiffly. “Show them the pictures, Corrie.”
Wordlessly, Corrie held out her camera with the screen pointing at Krista and Jules. Krista leaned in. An octopus arm rose from the waves. Her eyes widened when she compared the size of it to a nearby island in the photo. She frowned to cover her uncertainty and fear. What was it? Zeb gestured at the camera.
“The—tentacle thing.” Zeb glanced at Corrie briefly, no doubt because he felt embarrassed at using the stupid name, as he should. “Is attracted to the slime of the unicorn fish. We dumped slime overboard, twice, and it surfaced both times.”
“We didn’t want you to stop the boat,” Corrie said. “Because it was so massive that we were afraid it might attack the Clicker.”
“You’re saying that there’s a giant sea monster under the boat right now?” Jules’ normally pale face grew another shade of white. The lily-livered kid wouldn’t take a stand against a snail.
“Yeah.” Instead of looking worried, Corrie’s face grew animated. “But think of it. Two new species! This is incredible. World-changing. But we have to do something about Matt. There is potentially a whole world of new sea creatures waiting to be discovered. What if they are endangered, and Matt is killing them all off? We could be seeing the last of their kind, and we wouldn’t know. And the way he was treating that unicorn fish? It’s animal cruelty. He has to be stopped.”
“Yeah, okay,” Krista said in a skeptical voice. “But what are we going to do about it?”
The wheelhouse was silent for a moment. Then Corrie’s face lit up like a lighthouse.
“What if we use the tentacle thing to help us rescue unicorn fish? We can create a distraction for Matt, and then we sneak in and rescue the fish while he’s busy.”
Krista stared at the tiny, bubbly scientist. She hadn’t expected a plan like that from Corrie. It sounded like something Krista herself would come up with.
“It’s foolhardy, ridiculous, and so full of holes I could stick a gaff hook through it,” Krista said. “But it’s a plan with style. I like it.”
Corrie gave her a disbelieving smile then turned to Zeb. He nodded, his eyes thoughtful.
“It’ll take some more planning, but I like it.”
“It has the element of surprise, for sure,” said Jules. His color had returned with Corrie’s enthusiasm. “Couldn’t Matt catch more, though? He only has to put some jellyfish on a hook, and he can refill his tanks with unicorn fish.”
“We could destroy the equipment he uses to make the drug,” Krista said with relish. “He’s not rolling in money. He probably sunk a fair bit of coin into this venture. He won’t recover easily if we trash his stuff.”
“But where is Matt keeping the fish and all this equipment?” said Zeb. His face fell, and Krista’s betraying heart twisted. Damn Zeb. He didn’t make helping him easy. She gave a long-suffering sigh.
“I think I know where he is,” she said. Zeb’s eyes bored into her.
“Where?”
“His family has a cabin in Toba Inlet. The grandfather used it for fishing trips. I’ll bet you anything that Matt’s holed up there with his stolen unicorn fish.”
“Toba Inlet,” Zeb said slowly. “That’s only a few hours away.”
“Okay, okay, okay.” Corrie was having a hard time getting her words out. Krista watched her with amusement. “So, I collect secretions to throw around to distract the tentacle thing.”
“Like grenades,” said Jules, who leaned forward in his interest. “I think I have something in the galley that we could make work.”
“Yes!” Corrie turned shining eyes on Jules, then she frowned.
“I hope Matt doesn’t hurt the tentacle thing.”
“You said it could take down a boat?” Krista said. “I’d save your worry for Matt.”
CORRIE
Corrie couldn’t stop shaking from excitement and terror. They were on a rescue mission to save unicorn fish. They were going up against a dangerous criminal. They had just seen a tentacle thing.
Corrie’s mind stuttered to a halt at that thought. A real, live, giant octopus of legendary proportions had emerged behind their boat. She wouldn’t even know where to begin when she blogged this event. Where had the tentacle thing come from? How was it that they had spotted two legendary creatures in less than a week? And how was this creature related to other octopuses? How far back had it diverged from the known species? Was it more closely related to the giant squid or to an octopus? She had so many questions, and so few data. She despaired of eve
r getting a sample of the tentacle thing without a suicide mission.
“Before we disperse,” said Jules with a hand up. “Can we agree to change the name of the tentacle thing? No offense, Corrie, but it sounds like a name a toddler would come up with.”
“What’s your suggestion?” Corrie shot back, feeling both defensive and amused. Tentacle thing wasn’t the greatest moniker, she had to admit—to herself, at least.
“Don’t we have better things to do?” said Zeb. “Prepare for our rescue, for example?”
“Don’t be so serious,” said Jules. “This is important. Are we really going to let ‘tentacle thing’ be the name recorded in the history books? All in favor of ‘Sucker’ as a name, raise your hand.”
“Sucker?” said Corrie. “What, because of the suction cups?”
Krista’s hand rose to join Jules. To Corrie’s surprise, so did Zeb’s.
“Sorry, Corrie,” Zeb said with a sheepish expression. “Jules won’t let it go until we vote, so I thought I’d speed things up.”
“And you’re terrible at naming things,” Krista added. “Spiky? Tentacle thing? Sucker’s not much better, but it will do.”
“Fine.” Corrie threw her hands up in surrender. “Now, let’s go make our slime grenades.”
Corrie, Jules, and Krista traipsed through the cabin, leaving Zeb to drive the boat. Jules stopped in the galley to rummage through a cupboard. He emerged, triumphant, with a package of seaweed for wrapping sushi.
“How about this for a grenade wrapping?” he said. “We could mix the slime with sushi rice so it’s not as wet. The nori will hold its shape until it hits the water, then it will fall apart and release the slime rice.”
“Perfect,” Corrie said. This was why she didn’t like working alone in the lab. More brains meant more ideas. “My idea was to poke holes in a plastic bag when we were ready to throw it. We probably would all be writhing on the deck, hallucinating. Your idea is much better.”
“Were you really planning on making sushi?” said Krista.
“As a final night treat,” said Jules with a shrug. “We’ll have to have something else, now.”
“If we save the unicorn fish, I’ll buy us all dinner,” Corrie promised.
“Then our plans had better go swimmingly,” Jules said with a grin. Corrie chuckled.
“You did not go there,” said Krista, rolling her eyes. “Go on, cook up some rice. Corrie and I will collect slime.”
Corrie took her cue and retreated to the lab. What would she need for collecting slime from the unicorn fish? She opened drawers, thinking. Her equipment was laid out neatly, strapped down in baggie envelopes she had made on the first day. An eyedropper caught her eye. She slid it out of its envelope and took a few long swabs and sample bags for good measure.
On the deck, she kneeled beside the tank and removed the shade cloth. Krista squatted beside her.
“You’re not going to hurt it, are you?” Krista said with an attempt at indifference, but there was a thread of worry threaded between her words. Corrie shook her head.
“No, we won’t need to. Spiky is safe from us.” She lifted the lid and admired the fish’s iridescent skin under its coating of glutinous slime. There was a thin layer of excretions at the bottom of the tank already, and Corrie pointed at it.
“Can you suck up the bottom slime with the eyedropper and put it in a bag?” Corrie said. “Don’t forget your gloves.”
“We don’t have time for visions today,” said Krista. She put on a pair of gloves with an efficient snap, then frowned at Corrie. “What are you going to do? Am I just your science lackey now?”
Krista’s mouth held no hint of humor, but her eyes were lively. Corrie grinned, surprised and pleased at Krista’s banter.
“I’ve always wanted one. But they’re called assistants. Or work-study students.” She put on her own pair of gloves then held up a swab. “I’m going to take a bit of fresh slime off Spiky, just in case freshness is important. We’ll mix it all together so that every grenade has some fresh slime in it.”
Krista eyed the swab with suspicion.
“Be gentle.”
“Don’t worry,” Corrie said. “I’m not Matt.”
It was late afternoon by the time the Clicker turned into the mouth of a narrow inlet. The sun was still high, but it couldn’t peek over the steep cliffs of the fjord, and all but the highest rockfaces were dim and cool. Corrie shivered and zipped up her jacket. Jules came out with a sandwich wrapped in a napkin and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” Corrie said.
“It’s almost dinner, and we don’t have time for a proper meal. Sorry, it’s just a sandwich.”
Corrie laughed. He was sorry for only making a sandwich? She had completely forgotten about food.
“That was sweet of you, thanks. We could have eaten later.”
“Miss dinnertime?” Jules said in mock-outrage. “How are we supposed to keep up our strength? Sacrilege. I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”
Corrie grinned and took a big bite of the bread. She chewed thoughtfully.
“Hey, look what I rigged up,” Jules said. He bent down and picked up something from the deck. It was made of what looked like a small fishing net with the netting cut away. Instead, a bungee cord was tied to either side of the metal loop. In the middle of the bungee cord was an egg cup from the galley.
“A new way to cook eggs?” Corrie said with a raised eyebrow.
“No, it’s a slingshot,” Jules said with excitement. “I’ve been practicing. My job is to throw slime grenades into the water if we need to call Sucker, right? I have a crappy throwing arm—I was never much good at sports—but my aim with this thing is pretty good. It gets my shots way farther. Here, watch.”
Jules took an egg from his pocket and fitted it into the egg cup. He pulled back, closed one eye and tightened his lips as he aimed, then he released the egg cup. The egg soared away in a long arc, until it finally plopped with a splash in the quiet waters of the inlet.
“Nicely done,” Corrie said, impressed. “It reminds me of something my dad would create. MacGyver was his hero. Your slingshot would definitely win points with him.”
“Here’s hoping I don’t need to use it.” Jules’ usual grin faded. “How big was Sucker, again?”
“I hope you don’t have to use it, too,” Corrie said by way of an answer. Refreshing Jules’ memory on Sucker’s size wouldn’t help anyone, herself included. “We’ll sneak in, take the unicorn fish to the water, release them, and sneak out again. No one will see. It will all be fine.”
Jules gave her a skeptical smile.
“Yeah. Just like that.”
Krista came to the aft deck and stood beside them. She was dressed in tight-fitting exercise pants and a dark shirt with running shoes.
“Going for a jog?” Jules asked.
“No, doofus. What if we need to run or fight? I want to have full range of motion.”
Corrie swallowed and looked at her own ensemble of jeans and T-shirt. Was she ready for anything? She was more worried about the readiness of her mental state than her clothing. By the look of her, Krista was prepared in both ways.
“We’re almost there,” Krista said. “We’re going to anchor the Clicker around the next bend and take the dinghy from there. Get the winch ready.”
“Get the winch ready yourself,” said Jules, but he followed Krista to the winch, and they started to clear the dinghy’s path. Corrie took a deep breath to steady herself. How could she prepare for the unknown? She walked into the lab. There must be something she could take to equip herself for whatever scenario they might come across.
A few minutes later, a clanking alerted Corrie to the anchor descending. She put a final piece of equipment in her pocket and walked out of the lab, feeling better about their upcoming mission.
“What the hell is all that?” Krista said when she spotted her. Corrie stuck out her chin in defianc
e.
“Equipment. You never know what we might need.”
After Krista shrugged and turned away, Corrie looked down at her waist. From a makeshift belt, she had hung an assortment of useful items. Some were taped to the belt, like the sheath of her scalpel, while others were inside sample bags or plastic test tubes attached to the belt by twist ties. She was quite proud of her utility belt, but an objective side of her brain recognized how ridiculous she looked. She tossed her head. If she used even one item from the belt, it would be worth it.
Zeb gave her belt a double-take when he emerged from the wheelhouse, but he made no comment. Corrie, recovered from Krista’s scorn, decided to show it off.
“What do you think?” she said, strutting down the deck. “It’s the latest in lab fashion. All the Nobel prize winners are wearing one.”
Zeb snorted, and Corrie felt a twinge of pride for breaking his usual calm expression.
“Come on,” Krista called from the dinghy, now bobbing in the water beside the Clicker. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“After you.” Zeb gestured toward the ladder. “I don’t want to risk lab equipment falling on my head.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she said playfully. “I am a lethal weapon right now.”
Instead of sitting next to the motor as Corrie had expected, Zeb sat in the middle and fitted oars into the oarlocks.
“Old school rowing?” she asked as she settled herself in the bow, the only place left in the tiny boat. Krista and Jules were already squished together in the stern and not looking particularly happy about it.
“It’s quiet.” Zeb started to pull the oars with long, confident strokes. “This is a covert operation, after all.”
Corrie turned her body to watch where they were going. Jellyfish drifted by the boat under the surface, looking like little moons in a deep green sky. A waterfall cascaded down a sheer cliff in front of them and splashed into the calm water below.
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