James Patterson - Max

The only reason I was willing to get in it was because of the Plexiglas dome on top that you could see out of. Our current sub had no windows . I repeat, no windows . Zero. Zip. Nada . That was because the space between the outer hull and the inner hull was full of water when the sub submerged and full of air when it surfaced. A window would have had to have been about a foot thick. Instead, the crew viewed the outside on little TV screens, from cameras located on the sub’s exterior.

But now I had a chance to be in a big bubble and see what was going on. Anything would be better than being stuck in here.

I rubbed my hands together. “Let’s do it.”

Ten minutes later, a bottom hatch slowly opened, and we dropped down into the deep ocean. There wasn’t much light, but because the water around Hawaii is so clear, it wasn’t totally pitch dark, even at sixty meters deep.

Then the crewman turned on the headlights. It was amazing – our own underwater show. Above us was the enormous U.S.S. Minnesota. We were chugging out from under it, thank God. But the fish! There were fish everywhere, all sizes, moving slowly through the water.

“That’s a yellowfin tuna,” said Dr. Akana. “They can grow to more than seven feet long.”

“What’s that one?!” I said, pointing to a huge silver hubcap with orange fins.

“It’s an opah,” said the crewman. “They’re good eatin.’ ”

“It’s almost as big as me,” I said.

“I’m sure it weighs more,” Dr. Akana said with a smile. “Look! There’s a turtle!”

Sure enough, a turtle about the size of a standard poodle swam by, looking totally unconcerned about our sub.

“Everything moves so slowly under water,” I said. In addition to the fish that caught our attention because they were the size of sofas, we were surrounded by hundreds of thousands of smaller fish in every shape and color combination you could imagine – and some you couldn’t.

“Not everything – these fish can dart away in an instant if danger’s near,” said Dr. Akana. “Now, we’re still about six miles away from where the fish kill was first spotted, but I wanted to check out -” Her words were swallowed by a gasp. “Oh, my God! What’s that!?”

My head whipped to where she was staring, and I sucked in a fast breath.

No , I thought. Not this .

“CONTACT THE SUB!” Dr. Akana commanded the crewman urgently. “Issue a Mayday!”

“Hang on,” I said, still staring out the Plexiglas dome. Thirty feet away, and swimming closer to us, was something I never expected to see but should have.

“Contact the sub!” the doctor cried.

“Nah, don’t bother,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “I’ll deal with her myself.”

“Max! She’s drowning!”

“She’s swimming, ” I corrected her. “And being obnoxious. And getting into major trouble.” I frowned at Angel, who was maybe ten feet away now, smiling and waving at us. You are in deep sneakers, I thought hard at her, and her smile faltered.

Then she grinned again, swimming loop-de-loops in front of us.

“She has no gear,” said Dr. Akana weakly. “She’ll run out of air.”

“She has gills,” I admitted, still glaring at Angel. Sure, she didn’t have to worry about air, but there were a million other dangerous things in the ocean, including some huge, catastrophic mystery that might have something to do with my mom being kidnapped. And here Angel was, swimming around like she was bulletproof and sharkproof and man-of-war proof!

“Gi -”

“Gills,” I repeated, as Angel merrily caught a ride on a manta ray the size of a mattress. “We’ve all got other special skills and stuff. Angel can breathe under water. Also, she can communicate with fish and read people’s thoughts. Don’t play poker with her.”

The crewman swore softly under his breath. “She took me for forty bucks!”

Angel came back and clung to our clear dome. While I gave her every fierce look in my repertoire, she pressed her mouth against the Plexiglas and blew her cheeks out. Then she pulled off and laughed hard, doubling over and emitting a stream of bubbles.

“Is she not affected by water pressure?” Dr. Akana asked. “We’re sixty meters deep! A scuba diver would have to be very cautious about getting the bends.”

“She’ll get the bends all right,” I muttered. “I’m gonna bend her over my knee!”

Staying in our headlights, Angel performed an underwater ballet, first following a turtle, then another ray, then a mahimahi. She imitated their swimming styles, embellishing them with flourishes, spins, and somersaults. She kept her wings tight against her back, as we all did when we swam. She was having a super time. I was going to kill her.

“Besides the swimming child with gills, I’m not seeing anything unusual here,” said Dr. Akana humorously. “The marine life looks healthy and undisturbed. I see no evidence of algae blooms or coral reef die-off. I don’t see huge amounts of dead fish.”

“But we’re still far away, right?” I asked.

“Yes. I thought we should start taking stock of things this far away and continue to check periodically as we get closer to the site,” she explained.

I jumped as Angel tapped on the dome above my head. While I scowled at her, she pointed to me, to my neck, and then out to the water.

“What is she saying?” asked Dr. Akana.

“She wants me out there, to see if I’ve developed gills,” I said, and only after I saw the crewman’s eyes widen did I realize how nuts that sounded. Well, I already had wings, air sacs in addition to lungs, and was almost five-eight but weighed barely more than a hundred pounds. If this guy was looking for normal, I ain’t it.

“Do things just develop like that on you?” Dr. Akana sounded fascinated. How scientisty of her.

I nodded. “I mean, not all the time, you know,” I said, feeling embarrassed by the crewman, who was obviously trying not to look shocked. “But every so often, something new happens or changes on one or more of us. Like we were programmed to keep evolving.”

“That is so amazing,” said Dr. Akana softly. “You are truly special and unique, Max.”

I felt my cheeks grow warm, as the “circus sideshow freak” factor rose by the second.

A quick movement caught our eyes. I swiveled to see an enormous shark making its way toward us. Its tail was slicing back and forth, its head wagging as if looking for prey.

“Uh-oh,” said the crewman. “You better get that little girl out of there.”

“Yeah.” Angel? Big shark alert . I thought hard. I can’t actually send my own thoughts, but Angel usually monitors stuff going on around her.

We watched as she paused in midpirouette to look for the shark. They spotted each other at the same time. The shark took only a second to sum up Angel as being snackworthy and immediately began a fast, efficient approach.

“Crewman!” said Dr. Akana. “Put the Triton between Angel and the shark!”

The crewman immediately began to maneuver our small vehicle, even as he said, “Not sure the Triton can withstand an attack from a shark that size, ma’am.”

Angel faced the shark, looking at it intently. She held up one hand as Dr. Akana winced, bracing for the worst. I sat frozen.

The shark paused. Angel swam up to it. I heard the crewman suck in a breath, heard Dr. Akana praying softly. The shark stayed still, and Angel ran her hand gently along its head. It rubbed against her like a huge, toothy dog. Angel turned to grin at us.

“Okay, folks. Show’s over,” I said. “Let’s get back to the Minnesota .”