His tone isn’t sarcastic. He genuinely wants a better idea.

“It likes the electricity,” I say, silently cursing my own stupidity.

“SHE’S RIGHT,” Ester joins the conversation at maximum volume. “Octopuses communicate with electrical currents. That probably felt good to it. To him.”

Him?

Oh…right. Now I see that one of the octopus’s arms doesn’t have suckers all the way to the tip. Instead, it’s tapered with flat, dark circular designs—the creature’s reproductive arm.

“He’s not attacking,” I realize. “He’s being affectionate.”

“EEEEWWWW!” someone shrieks on board.

“Nelinha!” I call. “We need to tell Romeo to respect our personal space. That Leidenfrost shielding—give it one strong blast.”

“But—” Her voice breaks. “Oh, I see.”

“Right,” I say. “Romeo needs a cold shower.”

A moment later, white jets of aerated water erupt from the prow, sheathing the Nautilus and crashing into the octopus’s tentacles like an avalanche.

Romeo shudders. His bulbous head pulses, probably from serious brain freeze.

“Once more!” I say.

Another blast, and Romeo lets go of the ship. He lurches away, spewing a cloud of ink so vast that it engulfs everything. I can’t see Gem, or the Nautilus, or the octopus. The only sound in my helmet is my own ragged breathing.

“Cooper?” I call. “Anyone?”

Static.

“We’re here,” Cooper says at last. “We’re okay. That was intense.”

“Is the octopus gone?” Gem asks.

“Uh…” Cooper hesitates, perhaps checking his LOCUS displays. “Actually, guys… ?”

Before he can finish, the ink cloud dissipates and gives me my answer. Romeo has not left. He is, in fact, floating right in front of me, his giant eye reflecting my entire form like a full-length mirror.

Maybe it’s my imagination, but his gaze seems hurt, offended, as if he’s thinking, Why did you do that to me?

“Hey, Ana?” Gem’s voice sounds unusually high. “How ’bout we don’t make any sudden moves?”

I try to stay calm. This is surprisingly hard to do with a one-ton octopus in my face. If Romeo wanted to kill me, though, I would already be dead. He just keeps looking at me as if waiting for something. I consider the way he showed up as soon as the Nautilus put on her light show. I think about colors, and lights, and the electrical impulses octopuses use to communicate.

An idea comes to me—probably the worst one I’ve ever had. “Ester, can you hear me?”

“I’M HERE,” she says in my helmet. “Ana, that octopus is really close to you.”

“I noticed. How would you feel about suiting up and joining us?”

“Is that a joke?” Ester asks. “I have trouble telling with your jokes.”

“No,” I assure her. “I need my animal specialist. And bring the keytar, will you? I think I understand why the Nautilus brought us here.”

As we wait, I try to keep Romeo engaged (probably a bad choice of words) by showing him sign language. I don’t expect him to understand, but octopuses are intelligent and highly curious. I hope I can at least give him something to think about besides making another pass at our ship.