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"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.
53
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.
