"We're up. Come in and I'll show you how it works, then I'm done. My back can't handle another minute of this."

David followed him inside.

"Now pay attention… and don't drip suntan oil on my equipment! See this monitor on the left? Hit Control-M and it displays your grid."

Newman typed in the command, displaying a GPS satellite view of Loch Ness, divided by grid lines. "The Loch's so long that I had to divide the screen into three sonar zones." Newman clicked on an area with his mouse. "There's your north display, central… and south. Use the mouse to zoom in and out."

"The grid's active?"

"All sonar buoys are active and pinging as of ten minutes ago. I set the target strength to report and record any objects larger than a sea turtle. If something large crosses the array's acoustical beam, an alarm will sound, and the targeted info will appear on this second screen."

"Good, great… so where's the monster? If the array's active—"

"It's active, but that doesn't mean there aren't dead zones. We're dealing with a cold-water trowel that's over eight-hundred feet deep. Even pinging the hell out of it, you'll still have geological anomalies and pockets around the shoreline that'll remain cloaked."

"Okay. So how much isn't cloaked?"

"Best guess? Between 85 and 90 percent, and that's about as good as it gets without one signal interfering with another. It took me all day and evening to get the array set, so you tell those boat captains of yours they'd better not move or add another buoy to the field, or I'll personally feed them to the monster. And another thing, warn your girlfriend I'd better not find that new generator being used for anything but the sonar control station. If she so much as plugs a hair dryer into that machine, I'm leaving and taking my equipment with me."

"Know what, dude, you need to lighten up."

"What I need is a chiropractor and bed. So good hunting and good night. If you need me, don't call until morning."

Newman exited the pilothouse, then limped off toward the Clansman Hotel.

Invermoriston

It was late in the day by the time I arrived along the banks of the River Moriston.

The rivers of the Great Glen that feed Loch Ness also serve as autumn spawning grounds for the Atlantic salmon. As the waters warm toward the end of April, the salmon begin their seasonal run from the Moray Firth south through the River Ness into Loch Ness, eventually making their way up the rivers and streams to lay their eggs.

The River Moriston had a well-earned reputation as a popular salmon area. Each spring and summer, visitors watched from lookout posts as the big females leaped out of the water, struggling to make their way up the Falls of Invermoristion, leading into the calmer breeding pools.