“And sitting in the cafeteria is an Aquaceptor III that was almost destroyed by jellyfish.” Michaela rubbed her tired eyes. “And its mate is lying in pieces on the bottom.”

“So, what do we do?” Kel asked. “We’re working with Earth’s best technology. And suddenly we’re worried about creatures eating it? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Kalico told him woodenly.

Jaim had her eyes slitted. “The scimitar backed off after it sheared the UUV into pieces. The sub’s a lot tougher piece of equipment. Maybe we need to . . . No. That takes us right back to getting the thrusters bent up and equipment broken.”

“Equipment that is almost impossible to fix,” Kel reminded. “We don’t have spare camera mounts or robot arms. Break it, and it’s gone for good.”

“Lower the submersibles from the surface? They’re on a cable, and we could pull them back if something tried to swallow them. Maybe troll them from the Supervisor’s A-7? That would certainly handle the weight.” Kel had a skeptical arch to his red eyebrow.

“Shit on a shoe, no!” Michaela shot an apologetic look Kalico’s way. “That’s a scheduling nightmare, as if we could just up and commandeer a shuttle. Not to mention that the A-7 can’t land on the Pod. People, we have to solve our own problems here.”

“Explosives,” Kalico said. “On some kind of delivery system. Maybe a torpedo. A kind of remote control mine. Something you could shoot at a predator if it got too close. A depth charge? You might not even have to hurt the beast. Just scare it. Discourage it.”

Kel gave her an incredulous look. “I can’t believe were talking about this. Back in Solar System, they’d think we’d lost our minds. We’re talking about possibly blowing up an animal that Kevina says she saw, that we don’t even have a photo of. A creature that we’re assuming is going to eat our submarine. Key word: assuming. It might be as inoffensive as a blue whale.”

“It’s Donovan.” Kalico emphasized the words in a way that should have explained everything.

Michaela threw her hands up. “I know. It’s just that nothing in our briefings, our training, or our experience has prepared us to think in these terms. It’s like the old sea stories of mermaids, krakens, Davey Jones’s Locker, and sea monsters are suddenly true. What’s next? The Flying Dutchman?”

“Could be,” Kel told her. “Got a better explanation for the seaskimmers?”

Michaela laughed. “All right, your point. But seriously, are explosive charges the best we can do?”

Kalico walked along the submarine, inspecting the gleaming yellow hull, the fancy lights, the robot arms with their stainless-steel fingers and flip-out tools. The thing looked glossy and imposing.