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T
he midday sun shone bright and full on the sparkling ocean as Sturman piloted
Maria
northward. He had been chugging along the California coastline toward the crowded metropolis that was L.A.-Orange County for several hours. He knew he was off the coast of Camp Pendleton now because of the lack of visible infrastructure or vehicles on the distant shoreline. The seas were light, and the air and water were both pleasantly warm. The height of the California summer.

Despite it being a Saturday in early August, boat traffic had remained very light near the coast. The stretch between San Diego and L.A. rarely saw heavy nautical activity, other than cargo freighters or military vessels. Until he hit the cross-traffic headed out of Los Angeles to Catalina Island and distant Pacific ports, he shouldn’t see many ships.

Two dolphins appeared off the starboard side and began pacing his boat, matching her fifteen-knot clip. Sturman smiled at the sleek, playful pair. They were clearly enjoying his company as much as he enjoyed theirs. He could tell that one was actually looking at him as it turned on its side for several moments to direct a small eye up out of the water. He’d seen whales do the same thing. It was as if they were looking a man in the face and wondering what he was up to. Bud also had noticed the dolphins and barked when one cleared the water.

“Pretty cool, huh, pal?” Sturman scratched his dog’s ears.

It was good to see dolphins. Hell, it was good to see any natural marine life doing well anymore. Every year it seemed there were fewer marine mammals and sport fish off the coast.

One of the inquisitive dolphins, still smiling its perpetual smile, gracefully rolled over a few times in the water and hurtled toward the bow of the boat with a few powerful thrusts of its tail flukes. The other dolphin followed. It seemed the duo was going to try its luck riding the wave of water created by the forward-moving hull, but Sturman figured they wouldn’t have much luck with a boat as small as his. He stood in the flying bridge and leaned out over the water to try and catch a glimpse of the animals’ activities. The salt air and sunshine and scenery brought a powerful memory flooding back. Maria. Hawaii. Their honeymoon. They had watched three dolphins playing as their dive boat returned from a two-tank trip.

Sturman’s smile faded and he withdrew back into the boat. It had been a few days since he’d had a drink. Hell, he had a long way to go. He might as well enjoy himself.

As he rose to locate a bottle of rum, his cell phone rang. He decided to ignore it and head for the bottle, but as it continued to ring he cursed and turned back toward the phone on the dash.

“Sturman here.”

“Hi, it’s Val.”

“Hey, Doc.”

“Are you all right? You sound funny.”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Anyway, I just got finished looking at the Humboldt carcass. It was amazing. The thing was huge.” She talked fast and loud, like a tomboy who had just caught her first frog.

“How huge?”

“Biggest one I’ve ever seen. Fifty-four kilograms. Over two meters long, and thick. And she wasn’t too badly damaged.”

“So what’s that—over a hundred pounds, anyway?”

“About one-twenty.”

He whistled. “That is big. Learn anything?”

“So on the last squid we dissected, I didn’t see anything unusual, other than its diet. It had been eating fish not commonly found in the Baja diet, like several rockfish species and what appeared to be the remains of a surprisingly large Pacific hake. But this one . . .”

“What?”

“There was something else I’ve never seen. When I opened her up, I saw that she had some sort of parasitic flatworms all over the organs. I mean, these guys were affixed to the digestive tract, the liver, the gills, and even seemed to be clustered around some other organs.”

“Shit. That’s pretty disgusting. Won’t those things kill the squid?”

“Maybe they would eventually. Actually, Humboldt squid often have parasitic infections from tapeworms and other marine creatures. Never to this extent, generally. This level of parasitism is usually fatal. And here’s the other interesting thing—I’ve never seen this type of marine worm before.”

“I thought your specialty was squid, and all them other mollusks. You an expert on worms, too?”

“No. But I’ve taken a lot of courses on marine life, and I’ve come across most of the known Humboldt squid parasites when dissecting them. This trematode was something I’ve never seen. It’s probably a known species of worm, but I don’t think it’s ever been observed in
Dosidicus.
”

“And that’s really exciting for some reason, then?”

“Well, besides a whole paper on the novel parasitic relationship, if it is a new one, this parasitism might have several implications regarding the recent attacks.”

“You’ve got my attention.”

“Well, in many cases, parasites don’t just feed off hosts. They also
alter
them.”

“What do you mean, ‘alter’?”

Val thought for a moment. “Take rabies, for example. You may not think of the rabies virus as a parasite, but its interaction with a mammal host is classic parasitism. And as you probably know, when an animal gets rabies, its behavior is significantly altered. Rabid animals become highly aggressive and more likely to bite. Since the virus spreads from the saliva of infected animals into the blood of healthy animals, the aggressive behavior is essentially the rabies’ way of ensuring its own survival. It causes the aggression
intentionally
to facilitate its own reproduction.”

“You’re saying the rabies virus consciously knows to do that? Come on.”

“Not exactly. It’s safer to say rabies evolved with its mammal hosts in such a way that those viruses that caused aggression were more likely to spread than other rabies viruses. This allowed the viruses that caused the altered behavior to more effectively reproduce and pass on their genetic material.”

“I’ll be damned. You think that’s happening here?”

“I don’t know. I took samples of the worms and the infested tissues, but it will take a lot more research. What I
can
tell you is that I’ve read several scientific papers on snails, which are also mollusks, that have grown significantly larger and shown altered behavior when infested by parasitic flukes. I can further tell you I’ve never seen a Humboldt squid this big, and I’ve seen a lot of Humboldt squid. The heightened aggression this shoal appears to be exhibiting could potentially be the result of parasitic effects to each affected squid’s nervous system.”

“Rabid squid. Now I’ve heard it all.” He stroked Bud’s head, trying to imagine him with rabies.

“The crazy thing is that it may not even be the flatworms themselves that are causing the changes. Parasites can introduce other, smaller parasites, like when a mosquito delivers malaria to a human host. These smaller parasites can easily invade tissues and organs, or the larger parasites themselves may have direct effects on those organs. I could go on and on about this weird stuff. Anyway, you see what I’m saying? An unfamiliar parasite in these squid could have all sorts of implications.”

“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.”

T
he 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?”

“Sound?”

“Right. Sonar. Just like a submarine, or a whale or dolphin. I’ve been trying to include sounds as well as lights when I dive with Humboldts in Baja, and I’ve recently discovered that they appear to react to some sounds—particularly very long-wave, deep sounds that travel a long way underwater.”

“So you’re saying squid can hear?”

“I’m not sure if I’d call it hearing, but yes, they can process sound with organs in their bodies. My concern is that in addition to visual cues like lights, this shoal could now be associating certain sounds with food.”

“You mean people splashing around on the surface?”

She nodded. “Perhaps. And maybe even the sound of boat motors.”

Sturman took his hat off and rubbed the rough stubble on his head. “Christ. What are you saying, Doc? Boaters are ringing dinner bells when they start their motors?”

“I think the best thing we can do for now is simply try to keep track of this shoal and where it’s headed. That way we can try to update law enforcement. And we need to keep the public informed.”

Sturman leaned forward. “In the meantime, we shouldn’t just be tracking them. We need to talk about how we can eliminate the threat.”

“You’re still hung up on that?” Val shook her head. “It’s a ridiculous idea, and it won’t work.”

“Well, it’s better than doing nothing.”

“We aren’t doing nothing. We’ll try to keep tabs on the shoal’s location, so we can alert local authorities of a possible threat.”

Sturman snorted. “Okay, so we follow your eco-friendly advice and just try to find them. We still heading out at night, then?”

“I don’t think there’s any need for that at the moment. And it’s probably safer going out in the daytime. Joe, we may end up staying out for a week or more, possibly migrating along the coast with the shoal. Assuming Sturman is okay with that.”

“Fine by me.”

“As we go, we can relay our information back to Joe. And we need to keep in mind that other shoals in the area could also be afflicted with these parasites.”

Joe leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, his face lit by the flicker of the candlelight. “So now you think there’s more than one dangerous group of these squid? How many individuals are in each shoal?”

“Each shoal is usually made up of hundreds, or even thousands, of individuals. But I have no idea if there’s more than one
dangerous
shoal. Just that there are multiple shoals in the area.”

“Shit. Sounds like the start of some biblical plague.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Joe. They’re just doing what nature built them to do. And also perhaps what this parasite is making them do. I have to admit, I’ve never seen this body size or level of aggression in a shoal of Humboldt squid.”

Joe felt his face get hot. “I don’t know, Val. You may see these animals as some natural part of the environment, but I just see them as a threat. And whatever’s going on here, it doesn’t seem natural to me.” Joe touched the cross around his neck. “I’ve seen some pretty horrible things in my life, being a cop, but when I try to picture what these people were thinking in their last moments . . . If these squid aren’t evil, then I don’t know what is.”

Sturman tipped his hat. “Amen, brother.”

“Well, guys, ask yourself this: why are these squid even here, off California? They weren’t here even a decade ago.”

“I don’t know,” Joe said. “You said it’s because of lack of competition from larger fish, a changing environment, that sort of thing.”

“And who’s responsible for that?”

Joe snorted. “You think this is
our
fault, Val? That’s a stretch.”

“Is it?”

The table went silent. Joe calmed himself by listening to the heavy traffic driving by on the street behind the restaurant as he watched a busboy clean empty bottles and dirty dishes off a vacant table.

Sturman said, “Well, kids, we can agree on one thing. How this happened isn’t the most important thing right now, is it?”

“I guess it isn’t,” Val said.

Joe grunted. “No. But we’ll need to employ an old cop tactic to figure out what the hell is going on.”

Val looked at him warily. “Which is . . . ?”

“Time to bring them in for questioning.”