Michaela shot a quick glance at the monitor where Varina’s sub was nose-first in a profusion of pale blue and green biota. She had to reach through the growth with the mechanical arm in an attempt to obtain her geological samples. The mass of living material apparently didn’t like it. Michaela watched a ripple move outward as the massed biota shifted, shoved, and tried to get out of the way. This was accompanied by a bursting dispersion of colorful shelled creatures from where they’d been hidden in the biomass. Sand puffed and squirted, leaves, paddles, and tentacles all waving in the disturbance.

A thump on the side of the sub brought Michaela’s attention back to the transparency where the armed spear was now leaning toward them, more of the wispy fingers tracing the sub’s sides and transparencies as the long green stem bent toward them.

“How tall is this thing?” Michaela wondered, checking her depth meter. The bottom was a good nine meters below them, and the top of the spear had to be another meter and half above.

“So, it’s like a tree?” Casey wondered.

“You tell me, you’re the expert on the kelp forests.”

“This thing doesn’t have leaves like kelp, and kelp doesn’t have arms and feelers. Being blue-green, it can probably photosynthesize, but I’m betting that with the arms and these feather-like feelers? This is a predator.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a slew more of them around us. Pretty much all along the bottom for as far as we can see.” Michaela glanced beyond the delicate feelers to see spears of various sizes poking up. Sonar pinged, and one of the mysterious torpedoes appeared out of the blue haze to drift their direction. This was Michaela’s first good look at the creature, and she made sure the camera caught its entire passage. Torpedo wasn’t a bad name. Three large eyes were placed equidistantly around the head, the tripartite mouth open as it approached. The long length could barely be seen to pulse along the scintillating patterns of color that ran down its sides. Three fins gave it a rocket-like appearance, and as it streamed past, Michaela was able to see three vents surrounding a short stinger-thin tail.

“Jet propulsion,” Casey announced, her head slightly cocked. “Like the tubes, but bigger.”

“Michaela?” Varina’s voice came through the com. “We’re done here. We’ve got the samples stowed. We’re ready to descend.”

“Roger that,” Casey told her, easing the controls forward. “Wait, what’s this?”

Past where the spear was feeling its way along the side of the transparency, Michaela could see that some of the other arms had wrapped around some of the light mounting hardware. It seemed to be hanging on, unwilling to let go.

“I’m on it.” Michaela said.