Ryan Lockwood - Below

“So how come you’ve never seen these worms in a Humboldt squid before?”

“I don’t know. My guess is that this marine flatworm species resides in cooler North Pacific waters, and normally infests fish or animals other than Humboldt squid. Remember, this species of squid does not typically inhabit waters this far north or this shallow—at least not in recent times. The squid have probably encountered this parasite or something similar in the past, but may have gradually separated over evolutionary time as the squid headed south and the parasite preferred habitat farther north. Now the squid may be encountering it again as they migrate north and rise into shallower waters through the upwelling effect off the California coast. But like I said, I really don’t know.”

He heard Val sigh, and watched a small flock of brown pelicans float past him as they too headed north. The huge birds reminded him of a tight formation of naval fighter planes. He said, “Nature does some pretty amazing things.”

“I’m totally speculating here, Sturman. There’s just so little known about Dosidicus gigas . I’m one of a handful of scientists in the world who really know much about them.”

“I’m not letting you back on my boat if you start foaming at the mouth.”

She laughed. “Isn’t this fascinating stuff? Sometimes I just love my job. Are you having fun yet, cowboy ?”

“Yeah, I guess I am. You’re sure as hell not boring.”

“Enough on my end. We can talk more when you get here. How’s your trip going?”

“Probably halfway there now. I’ll be in Long Beach before dinner.”

“Well, be safe, and we’ll see you when you get here.”

“Montoya still with you?”

“Yeah. He stepped out to grab us some lunch. See you soon.”

“Wait a sec, Doc. Just wondering something. If you’re right about these squid, and about some parasites making them bigger and meaner—you’re not planning to dive again with them, right? Last time you went down with normal, healthy squid, and even that was a little too exciting for this old boy.”

“I probably won’t get in the water again. Don’t worry. I’m not stupid. We’ll be cautious. Okay?”

“I know you’re familiar with these squid and all, and you’ve dived with them a lot. I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing.... Look, I just want you to remember that if what you’re saying is true, these squid are more dangerous than you’re used to.”

“I appreciate your concern, Sturman. I mean it. Don’t worry.” She paused. “And I’m afraid to say you’re right.”

“Right about what?”

“We are dealing with some very dangerous animals.”

The three diners had just finished an expensive seafood meal on the outdoor patio of the restaurant—crunchy breaded crab cakes drizzled in a citrus-cream sauce, followed by freshly caught halibut grilled over hardwood charcoal. As they finished the late dinner, the summer light had slowly faded and now only a sliver of yellow afterglow lit the horizon over Alamitos Bay.

Joe had been carefully observing his two companions at the table throughout the meal without really meaning to. It was a habit among cops. Despite some obvious tension, he could tell the biologist was growing on Sturman.

The restaurant they’d found in the Long Beach marina had impressed him. The city had changed a lot over the years, with some parts retaining Southern California charm while others had become more dangerous with gang activity and crime. This was one of the better parts of town, though, and sitting on the bistro’s terrace overlooking the marina, it was easy to forget they were very near South Central Los Angeles.

Now they were sipping rich gourmet coffee and enjoying a moment of pause in the still summer evening. Earlier they’d finished a second bottle of wine, and were all in relatively high spirits. None of them could really afford the meal and the wine, but they’d all said what the hell.

“So, Sturman, I hear that you got into a fair amount of trouble in the Navy.” Val smiled at him playfully.

Sturman frowned at Joe. “Montoya’s telling stories about me again, huh?”

“Nothing but the truth, pal.”

“I was younger then. Made some poor choices.”

“Hell, you haven’t changed. Won’t take orders from anybody.”

“Let’s get back to business. Montoya, when you hit the head earlier, Doc here told me she had some theory she wanted to share about the night those immigrants died, and how it may have set the stage for the other attacks.”

Val nodded. “Yes, I do. But first, how come I haven’t read anything about that event yet? Why wasn’t it in the news, Joe?”

Joe’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you think? Because nobody cares about a bunch of wetbacks, except for their families back home. And their families had no intention of getting in touch with American law enforcement. They weren’t expecting to hear from those guys for a while anyway.”

“That’s horrible. But why haven’t you notified the press?”

“The incident is still under investigation.”

Sturman spoke up. “Doc, you were telling me that those men were probably the first these squid ever killed.”

“They probably weren’t the first actual group of people ever killed by Humboldt squid, despite what the official record books say. But for now we have to assume the immigrants were the first group attacked by this shoal. And it makes perfect sense. They were out over very deep water, at night, away from motorized traffic, and according to the authorities they were carrying waterproof flashlights. They might as well have been a group of Baja squid fishermen trying to attract the squid to them at the surface.”

“So they lured the squid to themselves?”

“Absolutely. These squid didn’t just happen upon any of these victims. They had to be in the same general area to detect them. But think about it. The immigrants, the father and daughter fishing, the scuba divers—they all had some sort of glowing lures or artificial lights that attracted the squid to them. Even the woman swimming over from Catalina Island had on a bright, flashy suit, and her crew was using artificial lights.”

“Huh.” Sturman leaned back in his chair. “You think they got a taste for people when they attacked those first folks—the immigrants?”

“My opinion? Yeah, I think so. These squid are much smarter than people give them credit for. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if some of what we’re seeing is simply learned behavior.”

Joe nodded. “The same way tigers or bears will continue to attack and eat people after they’ve done it once, and realize how easy we are to kill?”

“Exactly.”

Joe thought for a moment as he sipped his coffee. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll contact L.A. and Orange County law enforcement, see if I can’t get them to issue a press release about the shoal and maybe make some recommendations for people to avoid diving at night. But I gotta be honest, Val. Even though a lot of people have already died here, it doesn’t seem like that many people are even remotely at risk. How many people scuba dive at night, anyway, or try to swim to Catalina Island in the dark?”

“I still think it would be irresponsible of us to not get the word out.”

“Point taken.”

“If nothing else, we can try to prevent people from taking unnecessary risks until we figure out more. But I do have one other concern besides swimmers with bright lights.”

Joe set his mug down and studied her. Like his sister once had, the woman always seemed to be thinking. “What’s that?”

“Well, anyone that knows much about squid, including the biologists who study them, assumes that they only use their large eyes to visually seek out prey. But think about it—what would be a more effective way to seek out prey in water that’s totally dark?”