something dragged the fishing net that those two women drowned in last night. Might be related.”
“I don’t know,” Jack said, “but I think there’s something unusual out there. Some kind of marine life that doesn’t belong here.” He remembered Brandon’s story, told at the beginning of dinner, of a weird head that poked briefly out of the water that afternoon. “Certainly, whatever attacked Dak isn’t native to these parts at this time of year.”
Hale rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We could go up in my plane tomorrow, scan the waters, see what we see.”
Jack almost sighed. Wish I had the kind of funding that let me talk casually about “my plane,” he thought with a silent curse at UCSD’s bean counters. Aloud, he simply said, “Great.” He walked over to where the president was standing, talking with the police chief. “President Moki,” he said—the old man had politely asked Jack to call him “Manny,” since, as he said, “everyone else does,” but Jack couldn’t bring himself to do so, particularly now—“it might be wise to keep everyone out of the water until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“This is nonsense,” came a voice from behind Jack. He saw Derek Lawson approaching.
“Perhaps it would be wise,” Manny said, ignoring Derek. “At least, until we find out what killed our friend Dak.”
“They were surfing at night,” Derek said with a bark of unkind laughter. “Stupidity killed him.”
Taking the president’s lead, Jack ignored Derek, and asked, “You’ll keep the waters clear?”
“How long will it take you to survey them?”
Kikko, who, along with Naru, flanked Derek, muttered, “If we can’t fish, we can’t get paid.”
“C’mon, Manny,” Derek said, “don’t let outsiders push you around. This is our island.”
For the first time, the president looked at the fisherman. “Excuse me, Derek, but I believe that New Zealand is your island.” He spoke in the same even, polite tone that he used at all times, but Jack could tell that he would also brook no further commentary on the subject.
Before the argument could continue, a hush fell over the area. Red Sea-like, the crowd parted for a man as old as President Moki, dressed in the collar of a Christian minister or priest.
Nodding to the old man, Moki said, “Father Rauh.”
The priest simply nodded in return, then entered the clinic.
Moki turned to the chief of police, whose jaw was set so tightly Jack almost thought he’d broken it recently. “What do you think?” the president asked him.
“About closing the waters?” The chief rubbed his not-really-broken jaw. “Normally, I’d say no, but we’ve got three suspicious deaths which might be related—”
“Might?” Paul interrupted. “C’mon. Joe, it’s kinda obvious that they—”
The chief interrupted right back, “Yes, Paul, might. The two causes of death are different, and kindly don’t pull that all-knowing-reporter-makes-fun-of-dumb-cop crap on me, all right?”
Paul seemed taken aback. “Sorry.”
Joe turned back to the president. “But I’ve also been getting reports all day about weird sightings in the ocean. Much higher than the usual, and they’re all pretty similar.”
“A large reptilian head with a small horn at the center,” Jack said.
Everyone—except for Hale and the president—turned to him. “Yes,” Joe said, only momentarily surprised. “You saw it, too?”
“No, but my son did.”
Derek finally spoke up again: “So, based on two dumb tourists, one dumb local, and a boogey man, you’re gonna shut us down?” Knew the silence was too good to last, Jack thought.
Before anyone could answer, Alyson came out of the clinic. She removed a pair of latex gloves with a telltale snap and placed them in the pockets of her lab coat.
“What did you find, Doctor?” the president asked.
Alyson took a breath before answering. “Well, keeping in mind that I don’t have the facilies, nor the
“I don’t know,” Jack said, “but I think there’s something unusual out there. Some kind of marine life that doesn’t belong here.” He remembered Brandon’s story, told at the beginning of dinner, of a weird head that poked briefly out of the water that afternoon. “Certainly, whatever attacked Dak isn’t native to these parts at this time of year.”
Hale rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We could go up in my plane tomorrow, scan the waters, see what we see.”
Jack almost sighed. Wish I had the kind of funding that let me talk casually about “my plane,” he thought with a silent curse at UCSD’s bean counters. Aloud, he simply said, “Great.” He walked over to where the president was standing, talking with the police chief. “President Moki,” he said—the old man had politely asked Jack to call him “Manny,” since, as he said, “everyone else does,” but Jack couldn’t bring himself to do so, particularly now—“it might be wise to keep everyone out of the water until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“This is nonsense,” came a voice from behind Jack. He saw Derek Lawson approaching.
“Perhaps it would be wise,” Manny said, ignoring Derek. “At least, until we find out what killed our friend Dak.”
“They were surfing at night,” Derek said with a bark of unkind laughter. “Stupidity killed him.”
Taking the president’s lead, Jack ignored Derek, and asked, “You’ll keep the waters clear?”
“How long will it take you to survey them?”
Kikko, who, along with Naru, flanked Derek, muttered, “If we can’t fish, we can’t get paid.”
“C’mon, Manny,” Derek said, “don’t let outsiders push you around. This is our island.”
For the first time, the president looked at the fisherman. “Excuse me, Derek, but I believe that New Zealand is your island.” He spoke in the same even, polite tone that he used at all times, but Jack could tell that he would also brook no further commentary on the subject.
Before the argument could continue, a hush fell over the area. Red Sea-like, the crowd parted for a man as old as President Moki, dressed in the collar of a Christian minister or priest.
Nodding to the old man, Moki said, “Father Rauh.”
The priest simply nodded in return, then entered the clinic.
Moki turned to the chief of police, whose jaw was set so tightly Jack almost thought he’d broken it recently. “What do you think?” the president asked him.
“About closing the waters?” The chief rubbed his not-really-broken jaw. “Normally, I’d say no, but we’ve got three suspicious deaths which might be related—”
“Might?” Paul interrupted. “C’mon. Joe, it’s kinda obvious that they—”
The chief interrupted right back, “Yes, Paul, might. The two causes of death are different, and kindly don’t pull that all-knowing-reporter-makes-fun-of-dumb-cop crap on me, all right?”
Paul seemed taken aback. “Sorry.”
Joe turned back to the president. “But I’ve also been getting reports all day about weird sightings in the ocean. Much higher than the usual, and they’re all pretty similar.”
“A large reptilian head with a small horn at the center,” Jack said.
Everyone—except for Hale and the president—turned to him. “Yes,” Joe said, only momentarily surprised. “You saw it, too?”
“No, but my son did.”
Derek finally spoke up again: “So, based on two dumb tourists, one dumb local, and a boogey man, you’re gonna shut us down?” Knew the silence was too good to last, Jack thought.
Before anyone could answer, Alyson came out of the clinic. She removed a pair of latex gloves with a telltale snap and placed them in the pockets of her lab coat.
“What did you find, Doctor?” the president asked.
Alyson took a breath before answering. “Well, keeping in mind that I don’t have the facilies, nor the
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