“I can’t say I’m sorry to be rid of those vicious prehistoric gasbags,” Luther Smyth said. “But I sure miss Grace.”
“I miss her, too,” Marty O’Hara admitted. He also missed his parents, who were hopelessly lost in the Amazonian rain forest … or dead. The vicious prehistoric gasbags Luther was talking about were a couple of Mokélé-mbembé babies that had hatched aboard his uncle Wolfe’s research ship, the Coelacanth, on the way to New Zealand to capture a giant squid. Marty and Grace had snagged the dinosaur eggs in the Congo. Luther still had Band-Aids on his fingers where the meat-snappers had bitten him. He also smelled like the meat-snappers, even though he had taken at least twenty showers since the last feed. It was like the stink had soaked into the pores of his skin and the follicles of his flaming reddish hair.
“Look at all those people!” Luther said.
The boys were standing on the roof of the brand-new Squidarium at Northwest Zoo and Aquarium in Seattle, Washington. The structure was huge, but not nearly big enough to handle the football-stadium crowd waiting for the gates to open. According to the news, more than a thousand people had camped outside the entrance the night before with sleeping bags and coolers filled with food.
“You think Noah Blackwood is in the crowd?” Luther asked.
“Fat chance,” Marty said, frowning. Noah Blackwood, Grace’s grandfather, had snatched the hatchlings and kidnapped Grace. Marty would trade a thousand giant squids just to talk to her.
The NZA director, Dr. Michael Loch, opened the door to the roof and joined them.
“Quite a crowd,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
At fifteen bucks a head, Marty didn’t think Dr. Loch was seeing the crowd like he and Luther were seeing them.
He’s seeing a stream of endless cash flowing into his zoo, Marty thought.
“What time do the gates open?” Luther asked.
“As soon as we finish the media previews,” Loch said. “There must be two hundred reporters down there right now, maybe more. We should be ready for the peds by about one o’clock.”
Marty had learned that “peds,” short for pedestrians, stood for zoo visitors. He looked at his watch. It was noon.
“How much did the Squidarium cost?” he asked.
“Thirty million dollars,” Loch answered.
“Let me get this straight,” Luther said. “You put up a thirtymillion-dollar building on the off chance that Wolfe would bring in a live giant squid?”
“That’s right.”
“Even though this is the first Architeuthis brought into captivity alive?” Marty added, showing off a little by using the scientific name for the giant squid.
“I have a lot of faith in your uncle and Ted Bronson.”
Ted Bronson was Travis Wolfe’s reclusive partner, but he’d come out of hiding aboard the Coelacanth long enough to take Marty down into the deep to catch the giant squid. It was lucky they all weren’t killed.
“Have you ever met Ted Bronson?” Luther asked.
Marty elbowed Luther in the side. Dr. Loch didn’t notice because he was staring dreamily at the people lined up outside the gate, dollar symbols practically flashing in his eyes.
“No, I haven’t,” Dr. Loch answered. “I understand he hasn’t been off Cryptos Island in years.”
Cryptos Island was the secret island where Wolfe and Ted Bronson lived and ran eWolfe, a company that built everything from satellites to robotic flying bugs.
Luther was baiting Dr. Loch. At that very minute, Ted Bronson was inside the Squidarium, monitoring the giant squid with Wolfe and the world’s foremost authority on giant squid, Dr. Seth A. Lepod. Dr. Lepod had gone into the deep with Marty and Ted, but missed a lot of the action because he’d puked inside his pressurized aquasuit and couldn’t see through the visor of his aquahelmet because of the spew.
Marty was certain that Dr. Loch had met Ted poolside, and he was just as certain that Dr. Loch had no idea he was Wolfe’s genius partner. Ted was a master of disguise. His other persona was a pugnacious jerk by the name of Theo Sonborn. No doubt Loch had shaken his hand within the hour. No one would mistake Theo for Ted Bronson in a billion years.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Marty thought.
“How many people do you think you can get through the Squidarium a day?” Marty asked, getting him off the subject of Ted Bronson.
“If we stay open until ten at night,” Dr. Loch answered, “— and there’s no reason why we can’t — I’d guess we could get fifteen thousand people in and out every day.”
Marty did a quick calculation. At $15 apiece, that would be $225,000 a day. Wolfe was getting half the gate receipts for catching the squid, which left Loch over $100,000 a day. At that rate, the Squidarium would be paid off in a little less than a year. During that same time Wolfe would also rake in about $40 million dollars, providing that the squid lived that long.
Wolfe needed the money. He was nearly broke even before they shipped off for New Zealand to catch the squid. It took a lot of money to keep eWolfe afloat, organize cryptid expeditions, and, most important — at least to Marty — keep the search going for his parents. And now they had the added, urgent challenge of rescuing Grace.
That is, if she wants to be rescued, Marty thought.
“What do you think Noah Blackwood’s reaction is going to be to the squid?” Luther asked.
Marty gave Luther another dig with his elbow. Harder this time. Luther grunted, but ignored it.
Dr. Loch’s grin broadened, which seemed impossible considering how wide it already was. “Oh, he’s not going to be happy. Not happy at all.”
Marty wasn’t so sure. If this many people were lined up to see a giant squid, how many would line up to see a pair of baby dinosaurs?
Loch looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get ready for the press conference. Are you coming?”
“Yeah!” Luther said.
Marty grabbed Luther’s arm and held him back. “We’ll be along soon.”
Loch nodded and hurried through the door.
“What?” Luther asked, jerking free. “The press might want to talk to me.”
That’s exactly what Marty was afraid of. “We’d better find Wolfe and see what he wants us to do.”
“Party pooper,” Luther complained.
“Whatever,” Marty said.
Noah Blackwood was sitting in his private office on the top floor of his mansion, located on a hill overlooking his Seattle Ark. The shades were drawn, as always. He was watching the news coverage about the giant squid on a flat-screen monitor atop his large snakewood desk. Snakewood was the rarest wood in the world — and Noah was in a rare good mood.
He may not have gotten the giant squid in his pirate raid in the Pacific as he had plotted, but he’d come back with a treasure worth far more than that denizen of the deep — which, in part, accounted for his good mood.
A couple of hours earlier, a network television crew had shown up at the Ark to interview him about the giant squid. Noah loved speaking in front of a camera, and the camera loved him. The only thing he liked better than speaking in front of a camera was watching himself on television after the fact. And that’s what he was doing right now….
“We are at Noah Blackwood’s Seattle Ark today with Dr. Noah Blackwood himself, who is no stranger to our viewers. He has five zoos — or Arks, as he calls them — in five different countries.”
In the solitude of his office, Blackwood frowned at the blow-dried anchorman reflected on his desktop monitor. He didn’t like it when his Arks were called zoos, although he knew that was exactly what they were. He preferred the term wildlife conservation centers. If he’d heard the introduction, he would have corrected the idiotic reporter right on the spot. But his irritation faded as he saw himself appear on the screen. Longish white hair swept back like a lion’s mane against a perfectly tanned face, mesmerizing blue eyes, and capped teeth as white as fresh snow. In the exhibit behind him were three adorable panda cubs, which the keepers had t
urned out early into the grassy yard for the interview. The cubs were a new addition to the Seattle Ark. The trio had been orphaned in China and personally rescued by Noah — allegedly. The truth was that Noah sent his right-hand man, Butch McCall, to China with enough cash to hire a poacher. Together Butch and the poacher stole the three cubs from three different mothers in the wild and smuggled them out of the country.
“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to talk to us, Dr. Blackwood,” the reporter said.
“It’s my pleasure.”
“As you no doubt know, Northwest Zoo and Aquarium is about to put an endangered giant squid on exhibit for the first time in history. Your thoughts about this?”
“First of all, unseen does not mean endangered. We have no idea if the giant squid is endangered or not, but this takes nothing away from Northwest Zoo and Aquarium’s remarkable accomplishment. I’m thrilled for them, and for the zoological community as a whole. We’ll all learn a great deal about this interesting creature because of their efforts. Northwest Zoo and Aquarium is to be congratulated.”
“But aren’t you worried about the squid siphoning off visitors from the Ark?”
“I’m not in competition with Northwest Zoo and Aquarium. We’re on the same team. They’ve accomplished what was thought to be impossible. I just hope the specimen lives long enough for us to learn from it.”
“Are you saying there’s a possibility the squid might die?”
“Everything dies eventually. That’s the law of life. I just hope that the specimen they captured was young and didn’t suffer any debilitating injuries from the transport. The longer it survives, the more we’ll learn.”
“I understand that you were also off the coast of New Zealand when they caught the giant squid.”
“We had research ships in the area, yes.”
“Were you asked to help?”
“We were dealing with a little crisis of our own around the time they caught the giant squid. In spite of that, we certainly would have assisted them if they had needed it.”
“What kind of crisis?”
“Stay tuned — I’ll give you more specifics on a future episode of Wildlife First.”
“Can you give us a hint now?”
“Pirates. But that’s all I’m going to say at this point.”
“Well, we look forward to that episode!”
“Piracy is just one of the hazards of trying to protect our planet’s wildlife. It was touch and go. We lost some crew members to the scoundrels, but we all do this knowing the risks.”
“That sounds fascinating — you heard it here first on SeaTac News, viewers! Dr. Noah Blackwood, battling pirates! But, Dr. Blackwood, back to the subject at hand: Rumor is that you and Northwest Zoo and Aquarium have had your differences in the past. Wasn’t there a falling-out between you and Dr. Loch over an expedition to catch whale sharks? Something about a fire, and —”
“You cannot believe everything reported by ‘the press.’ Dr. Loch and I are not only colleagues, we are friends. He regularly calls on my staff for assistance, and we’re happy to lend him a hand. As I said, I couldn’t be happier for him. In fact, as soon as I get a chance I’m going to go over there, take a look at his giant squid, and congratulate him in person.”
Noah Blackwood and Michael Loch despised each other. Loch had publicly accused Blackwood of sabotaging their expedition to catch a whale shark by setting their research ship on fire. There was no proof, and Dr. Loch had to issue a public apology, but the truth was that Noah Blackwood had sent Butch McCall to torch their ship. And he wouldn’t hesitate to send Butch to the aquarium if their new acquisition threatened his income. A couple of drops of an undetectable poison in the water would do the trick and kill off NZA’s new main attraction.
“A few weeks ago, SeaTac News interviewed you after you returned from rescuing one of your employees, Butch McCall, from the Congo. You indicated at the time you had made an important discovery during the rescue. I’m wondering —”
“I’ll repeat what I told you then: Wildlife First. That’s the title of my bestselling book, that’s the name of my internationally syndicated television show, and that’s my policy. Wildlife First: It’s not just a slogan, it is the lifeblood of my very soul. Wildlife first, without exception. Today is a day to celebrate Dr. Loch’s and Northwest Zoo and Aquarium’s achievement. I will not mar it by talking about my own exciting discovery. Now, I have an important phone call to take, so if you’ll excuse me…. ”
Noah watched himself walk away from the camera, pleased with how well he had handled the interview and how good he looked on television. The report moved back to Northwest Zoo and Aquarium and the mass of people waiting to get through the gates to see the giant squid. Noah switched the newscast off, smiling.
This time next week, it will be as if the giant squid never existed.
He called Butch McCall.
“Where are you?” Noah asked, knowing perfectly well where Butch was because he was staring at Butch through one of the dozens of surveillance cameras set up throughout the Ark.
“Pandas,” Butch answered flatly, unaware that he was being watched.
“Is Grace with you?”
Another throwaway question. His granddaughter was perfectly framed on Noah’s screen. Everyone on staff knew there were surveillance cameras at the Ark, but no one knew how many, or where they were. Noah was the only person who had access to all of the cameras at any one time.
“What’s Grace doing?”
“Playing with the cubs,” Butch mumbled.
“What’s the problem, Butch?”
“There’s no problem.”
Butch’s eyes rolled. Butch was lying. It was almost impossible for Butch to hide his true feelings, which was why Noah was careful to keep him in the background most of the time. It was a miracle that Butch had been able to infiltrate Wolfe’s crew aboard the Coelacanth.
“Spill it, Butch,” Noah said into the phone, although he already knew exactly what Butch’s gripe was. If life was a chess game, Noah was always five moves ahead of the people on the playing board. In the case of Butch, he was ten moves ahead.
“Grace,” Butch said.
“What about her?”
“There are a lot of other people who could be babysitting her besides me.”
“Grace is my only living relative, Butch. And you’re right, there are a lot of other people who could babysit her, but there is only one person I trust to protect her.”
“Protect her from what?”
“Travis Wolfe!” Noah raised his voice. “Do you think he’s going to sit idly by and do nothing about us kidnapping his daughter?”
“We didn’t kidnap her,” Butch said. “She came with us on her own.”
“She came with us because you were holding a gun to Laurel Lee’s head,” Noah corrected.
“It was a standoff,” Butch argued. “I wasn’t about to shoot Laurel Lee with Al Ikes pointing his assault rifle at me. It was a bluff, and Grace knew it.”
“And how do you know that?”
“She told me,” Butch said.
Noah’s blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. Butch had worked for Noah since he was a teenager, starting out as a zookeeper. Now he was his top field operative. Noah knew Butch McCall better than Butch McCall knew himself.
“It sounds like you and she are getting along splendidly,” Noah said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Butch said. On the security camera screen, Noah watched as he cocked one eyebrow in doubt. “But I don’t think she’s going anywhere. Even if she had a chance to escape, which she doesn’t.”
Noah smiled. It seemed that Grace had inherited his charm and his guile. “A chip off the old block,” he said.
“What?” Butch asked.
“Forget it,” Noah said. “The more you trust Grace, the closer you need to watch her. She is being far too cooperative. I don’t believe that she is as happy as she appears. She’s up to something.”
&
nbsp; “Like what?”
“I expect you to find that out, Butch. Don’t let your guard down. And make sure she doesn’t return to her room for a while.”
“Why?”
“Just do it! I’ll let you know when it’s clear.”
Noah ended the call, then watched them on the screen for a few minutes. Grace did seem to be genuinely enjoying herself as she played tug-of-war with the three adorable panda cubs. He still couldn’t get over how much she looked like his daughter, Rose. She had the same robin’s-egg-blue eyes. The same raven-black hair. Even her smile was the same. He wondered what she would think of him if she knew what he had planned for at least one of the cubs she was playing with.
“I don’t think you’d be smiling, Grace,” he said aloud. “But you will come around to my way of thinking when you see the grand scheme. When you see what I’ve accomplished. When you see the impossible become possible.”
He hit an icon on his computer screen, got up from his desk, and walked over to his precious collection, which very few people had ever seen, or even knew existed. If you looked at the wall across from his desk, you’d think you were looking at large glass panels as black as obsidian. The halogen lights on the other side of the glass illuminated the cases slowly, like the rising sun. Behind each panel was an animal. Dead. Beautifully preserved by his exclusive taxidermist, Henrico. The animals had been harvested in their prime. Frozen in magnificent poses against a stark black background so that nothing detracted from their natural beauty. They looked more alive in death than they had in life. Among the dozens of rare animals was a thylacine, or Tasmanian wolf, pulling a wombat out of its burrow. A flock of passenger pigeons winging their way to extinction. And the newest addition, a young female Caspian tiger named Natasha, in mid-leap, about ready to take down and devour an unlucky ibex.
Not that long ago he had been petting Natasha right here in his office. Now he would be able to view her raw symmetry forever.
But the bodies were just the shells of the animals. The essences of these long-extinct creatures were stored deep below the Ark in cryogenic tanks, frozen in time, awaiting the day when Noah’s technicians could bring them back to life. And his geneticists were close. They had already created a living, breathing, mythical beast in his secret laboratory. With the unique DNA from the Mokélé-mbembé hatchlings now at his disposal, who knew what his team could duplicate or invent next.