Still there was nothing visible to the naked eye except a greasy smoothness on the sea’s surface, somewhat like an oil slick. Now and then Dev caught a glimpse of a brown, whip-like something bulging out of the water, there and gone in a split second. Limb? Body? Tentacle? He couldn’t tell. Handler spun the Reckless Abandon, looking for a way out, but in vain. The two masses finished merging and became one, shutting off all channels of escape. And now it began contracting around the boats, like a noose tightening. The area of clear water inside it shrank fast. Handler had to nudge the Reckless Abandon up beside the Admiral Winterbrook. There was nowhere else to go, no more wiggle room. On the catamaran, the Marines were preparing to fight. Milgrom manned the forward point-defence gun, the targeting system of which was now slaved to her commplant. Jiang had torpedoes primed and ready to fire. They got a heads-up from Sigursdottir. Hang on, gentlemen. We’re going to fight our way out.
