Ocean: The Sea Warriors by Brian Herbert, Jan Herbert Page A

elegant old man took a sip of coffee and stared glumly across the table, noting that Jeff had barely touched his food, and was instead reading a tabloid-style newspaper. For a change, the younger man wasn’t wearing his gold chain and watch. Whatever he was looking at had his full attention, and he held the paper in such a way that the front page banner was not visible to Preston. From what he could see, however, the print style and layout did not look familiar, so he presumed it was not one of his publications.
    “My sister is a freak, Grandfather.”
    He turned the front page toward the old man. To Preston’s shock and displeasure, he stared at a copy of the Honolulu Mercury News, featuring a bold, front-page headline:
    ELLSWORTH GIRL HAS TURNED INTO A FISH
    “Alicia says she has gills, Grandfather, and so does that wacky boyfriend of hers. Both of them claim to have strange powers, too, that they she can supposedly generate ocean waves, while he heals injured sea creatures. What a joke! They want to recruit more humans to be converted into fish people, too, along with ocean experts and sympathizers from all over the world, for a new organization they call the Sea Warriors.”
    “I don’t care what that rag publication says, dammit! How dare you bring such filth to my table! You know how I feel about Jimmy Waimea. He would do anything to get even with me for nearly putting him out of business, and now he’s printing lies to make me look bad.”
    “You don’t want to know what this article says?”
    “No!”
    “You’re going to ignore it, ignore my sister the mermaid?”
    “Jeff, she’s not claiming to be a mermaid. I’ve already discussed it with her. Besides, I’ve got a lot more to worry about than anything my enemies say about me. Or my family.”
    The old man lurched to his feet and threw his napkin on the table angrily, turning over a nearly-full cup of coffee and spilling it on the white tablecloth. A servant hurried over to clean up the mess, but Preston pushed him out of the way and left the screened balcony.
    With his stomach roiling, he strode through the lush botanical gardens, trying to calm himself. He didn’t like being made to look foolish, and that was exactly what the headline was trying to do. Moments ago in the lobby, he’d waved off a clerk who informed him that a national television reporter was on the phone, wanting to talk with him. He vowed to ignore all attempts at an interview, and to maintain his composure.
    On the garden path now, he struggled to prioritize and refocus his thoughts, which he’d done successfully in the past when faced with difficult situations—both business and personal. But with so much occurring at once, this seemed worse than any previous situation he’d experienced, a combination of severe business and personal problems.
    Moment by moment, he felt the negative thoughts shifting as he pushed them to the back of his mind….
    The old man stopped and closed his eyes for an instant. Then, opening them, he marveled at the verdant beauty of his gardens, the remarkable and rare flowers he’d brought in from exotic locations all over the world. Preston moved closer to admire an exceptional crimson orchid, and made brief eye contact with Toshio Yamasaki on an adjacent path where the shy little gardener knelt working, a loyal employee who had tended these gardens for more than thirty years, since he was a child and his late father was the master gardener. Now Toshio held that important position, more by his talent than by any right of heredity.
    Preston’s earliest and fondest memories were on this marvelous property, with its gardens, rolling green pastures, bright aquamarine seascapes, and thick jungles climbing the slopes of the dormant volcano. His family had owned the land for a century and a half and had developed it to what it was today, maximizing its income-producing potential without having to plant sugar cane or other revenue crops on the acreage. Even