Agnatha Agnathema

 AGNATHA ANATHEMA

by

Daniel F. DeBono   COPYRIGHT 2002-2012 Daniel F DeBono

     Doctor Noah Sterenko frowned. He was breaking a couple big rules at the moment, and he was none too happy. First, he was getting ready to SCUBA dive alone. Next, he was going against the wishes of his boss – not a good idea for anyone, but, especially when your boss was the cantankerous Dean of The Lake Superior College Of Fishery And Aquatic Sciences. The two had been working on a breakthrough they thought could have commercial applications. They had picked an area where they had dispensed a chemical they hoped would eradicate a nuisance fish which had been making a comeback the past few years, but it all went to hell.

He crashed into the water backwards and raced downward. Years of SCUBA had made his ears so elastic, he could simply kick down as quickly as possible – not something every diver could accomplish. He looked around and saw nothing, so he finned onward. His sonar had picked up a school of his targets not twenty minutes before, but they must be moving… hunting?

Suddenly, he saw them. Only they weren’t doing what their species normally did; they swam directly at him. Their recent field work had supported their assertions that their experiment had gone wrong – the chemical had actually caused them to grow larger than expected and they seemed to be getting more aggressive, but this was absurd! He turned and started kicking toward his boat as quickly as he could. He should have listened to his boss; he may be a cranky old man, but he knew things, and he had been scared about what they had done.

He turned and saw that they were gaining; his thoughts raced. Why? How? It was simply impossible. They didn’t do this! His last thought before they swarmed him was: This is something right out of a B movie! 

 *               *               *

 The two avid divers readied their gear; waiting to begin another of their countless underwater adventures.

     "Well, this makes four," she said, strapping the buoyancy compensator device to her blue, metal-flake SCUBA tank.

     "Four what?" he asked, just a bit perturbed at her giddiness, while he labored over the rubber raft's sub-par engine mount.

     "Four Great Lakes, you Homer!"  

     Instantly, his anger vanished upon the sight of her dazzling smile.  She was bent over, peering at him through spread legs, as she tightened the strap to her tank.  "Hurry up!  I want to get there before midnight."

     "Spence..." Angela's look and tone of voice cooled his jets.

     He started loading the equipment on the raft, quickly and efficiently. "Let's see... lights, knife, gloves, hoods, boots..."

     "Everything!" she interrupted.

     She was right.

     "Yeah, but it's always the little shit that we forget." he said, stepping into the raft.

     When Angela stepped into the raft, it further reduced the freeboard to just over four inches.  

     "Spence!" she said, eyes scanning the obviously overburdened craft.

     "Don't worry.  We'll be okay ... unless there's a thunderstorm."

     "Comforting."

     It took the usual twenty or so pulls to get the little blue and white outboard running.  Spencer smiled at the large flakes of blue, peeling to expose the ugly chocolate brown that he tried so desperately to conceal. Practically an antique …