Aqua Sapiens is a thrilling Science Fiction adventure about a husband and wife team of biologists that discovers a shocking new species of aquatic life, a species that turns out to be the most dangerous predator on the planet, and one that is desired as a weapon.

This is my first true novel, and I post it here for your enjoyment. It's my way of bringing to light in a dramatic way the egregious mistreatment of animal species captured for amusement and monetary gain. It also emphasizes the folly of mankind. Because of that, there is an element of satire in this.

It's set in a time a few decades ago, so the references may be dated a bit.

All rights reserved - Copyright © 2013 - The people, locations and incidents in this story are fictional, despite the fact that some locations and institutions are real. No disparity or offense is intended to anyone or anything.

PART 1 Trials

Chapter No. 1 The Unutterable Revelation

A quick glance at his wife's face told Eric Hauptman that there's a volcano seething under her lovely exterior. He doesn't want an eruption and he'll do anything to prevent it.

He and his wife had been arguing--bantering, discussing, debating, quibbling, splitting hairs, ignoring, and yelling--for several weeks before calling a truce, a truce held together by a kiss. He doesn't like arguing with her. She's his partner, his colleague, his confidante, yes--his lover, and he needs her understanding and support for what he is about to do.

Besides, he loves her, now more than ever. Her smile and her laughter brighten his days, and some days he needs all the brightening he can get, especially when he isn't getting anything else.

He smiles when he notes how the lines in her face are enhanced by the dim glow of a morning sun just beginning to illuminate an expanse of shimmering water paralleling Interstate-5. She could easily hide them with makeup, but she doesn't believe in concealing her naturally creamy complexion. Her Grecian Goddess nose and her solid but delicate jaw draw attention away from the flaws in her skin. Her facial lines are classic, regal, the kind of face that belongs to a queen, not a scientist.

But it's her cosmic eyes. Bright and alluring, they easily attract his eyes, and when he looks into them, it's as if he's looking into the deep blue sea itself, as if her very soul were rooted in the sea. He imagines them to be precious blue pearls in crystal clear white shells, lovely to look at and pleasurable to be looked at with.

He had fallen in love with her beautiful features so very long ago, longer than he cares to admit. And yet, he still marvels at how lovely they still are, despite the ravages of age. He still takes pleasure in how her bright eyes tease with a gleam that quickens his heart, how her luxurious silver hair glows with a sheen that beckons his caress. And he can never resist kissing her luscious lips. The lines? As far as he's concerned, they only add to the magnificent character of her lovely face.

Margaret Hauptman wrinkled her brow and glared at her husband. "I know how anxious you are to tell them, but I don't think it's wise. You know damn well that it could jeopardize our careers, not to mention our reputations."

"Look," her husband said, gesturing with his right hand while maintaining a secure grip on the steering wheel of their Emerald Green Blazer LT. "We've been through this enough. I don't see that we have any other choice. Besides, what can they do about it? We have the tape . . . it's not as if we're a couple of inexperienced graduate students."

"Damn it, Eric! You know that they're going to think we've gone off the deep end. They'll assume we're suffering from delusions or . . . or worse."

Eric knew that she was riled because her eyes were venting an inner fire like a lioness protecting her cubs from hungry jackals. He wasn't about to push her too far. His only recourse was to appeal to her love of pure science.

"Ok. Ok." He paused to stroke his short-cropped peppery beard before he waved an index finger at her. "But let's just say that we ignore what we both know down deep is probably the most important scientific discovery of all time. Can you just imagine the impact that this will have on the scientific community?" He grinned sheepishly at her. "Think of the opportunity we'll lose if we don't pursue it."

"If it's real," she said, emphasizing each word.

Eric gave her a relaxed nod and an affirming glance. "If it's real."

The growling whine of tires and whistling air were the only sounds for several minutes.

"Besides," Eric said, blowing the word out, "We deserve this. We've suffered through years of mundane research on species the average person has no knowledge of. A discovery like this . . . well, let's just say that it would make us feel as if we were young, eager researchers again in pursuit of glory and fame."

"Glory and fame? I don't give a damn about any of that. I don't want to lose what little respect I have."

"I don't know why you would say that. Heaven knows we've held up our share of the load. There's no reason for them to lose respect for us, no reason whatsoever."

Margaret lowered her eyes and brushed silver hair from her face. "Ok. You've made your point." She looked up at him with troubled eyes. "However, you know full well that they're going to question our withholding the information for so long."
"When they see the tape they'll understand our reluctance." Eric ran a hand through thinning gray hair. "Relax. There's nothing to worry about. Alan is a very reasonable man. He's an objective scientist . . . at least he used to be."

Margaret stared out at the glistening water of the Pacific with a faraway look in her eyes. "I suppose we're doing the right thing." She turned to give him one last glare. "But I just know that this is going to cause a lot of controversy, and you and I will be right smack in the middle of it."

Her husband had an understanding smile on his weathered but still handsome face. He had no doubt that the accidental discovery was going to alter their austere lives. They had, up to now, enjoyed uneventful careers as an esteemed husband and wife team of marine biologists working for the prestigious Pacific Institute of Oceanography. They had spent their lives methodically searching the ocean depths for new species of marine life, enduring hardships away from the pleasures of professional affluence. Eric Hauptman was counting on their reputation to lend credibility to the shocking discovery, especially when they revealed it at a staff review meeting that they had called for this morning.

They appeared as two little pinpricks of light dancing in the distance, bouncing around as if alive on a dark ribbon of concrete. Nothing threatening here; but, the dance was undisciplined, more like a drunken stagger.

Time to worry, especially when the two bright headlights suddenly swerved into their lane. The intruder shifted back and forth as if unsure of its trajectory, and then settled down to an intersect course. The piercing, blinding beams of light extinguished, quickly fading to glowing embers, and then leaving nothing but shadows.

"Eric, look out!"

Eric's eyes widened. "What is that idiot doing?"

The idiot sped up and stayed on coarse to ram them.

Eric moved from one side of the road to the other, but the idiot matched his moves. Time
was rapidly running out in this one-sided game of chicken.

Margaret screamed.

Eric just gasped. He had no time for yelling, or cursing. He reacted to two tons of impending death by jerking the steering wheel hard to the right. His action avoided a head-on collision but caused the Blazer to turn over and over in a sickening spiral of destruction, smashing out windows, ripping off doors, tearing fenders, blowing tires, and finally careening off the road into a ditch accompanied by the sound of twisting frame, groaning metal, and screams. The bruised and battered wreck ploughed through dirt and scrub grass before smashing to an abrupt stop against a chain link fence.

As the glorious California sun peaked above the horizon, only the sound of hissing steam and gurgling fluids filled the chilly dawn air.

###

In the main conference room of the Pacific Institute of Oceanography, seven scientists sat around a large oval-shaped walnut table polished to a glass-like sheen. Some faces had annoyed expressions, displaying dissatisfaction with this unwarranted interruption of their normal daily routine. Others simply looked bored, their faces exhibiting disinterest in another stupid, boring morning meeting. The silence of waiting was violated by coughs, pencil tapings, yawns, and sighs. Scientists are too dignified to openly complain.

Except Dr. George Stevens, a gnomish little man with scraggly hair that seems to go in several directions at the same time. He never allows professional decorum to interfere with his over-critical, cantankerous nature. He stood up and began gesturing wildly with a chunky hand, as if he were trying to hail a cab on some busy Los Angeles street corner.

"Where are they? They're always late for everything." He aimed his complaints at a tall, thin man with thick black hair slouched in a chair next to his. "Why in the hell did the Hauptmans' call this meeting in the first place?"

The Institute's administrator, Dr. Alan Anderson tried to calm Stevens with a dispassionate face. Despite the fact that he was seated, Anderson didn't need to look up at the standing Stevens. "I'm not really sure. They mentioned something about a tape that they had recorded on the last expedition, something about a new marine species."

"That figures," Stevens said, throwing his arms up in disgust. "They're trying to relive past glories. It's been some time since they've contributed anything of significance to this institution."

"Now, George, let's not forget that Dr. Hauptman and his wife have forsaken comfortable teaching positions to work in the field. They've also done a good deal of the tedious cataloging work. I think we all take them for granted."

Dr. Stevens twisted his lips and furrowed his brow. "They're too old to be going out on expeditions. They should retire and leave the field work to younger scientists."

A slender hand waved an admonishing finger at George. The hand belonged to an equally slender Dr. Joyce Conners, a noted expert on marine evolution. "I resent that." She pointed the same slender finger at her short-cropped gray hair. "Age is only a mind set. The Hauptman's keep in superb shape. As long as they're able to do the work . . . and, besides, they have the necessary experience."

"So what!" Dr. Stevens said, peering at her over his wire-framed spectacles. "Every scientist at this institution has experience. They don't hire new graduates here."

Conners' narrow face exhibited intense disgust, but she secretly enjoyed sparring with the Institute's principal grouch. "The way you're going on, you would think that the Hauptman's were in their eighties. They're only in their early sixties. I believe Margaret's still in her fifties. That's hardly considered old."

"Ha! I'd expect you to say that; you're pushing sixty yourself."

"So what! At least I don't act like an old cantankerous fool."

Dr. Anderson thrust his hand up as if he were acting as referee. "We're not here to argue about the Hauptman's credentials. We were asked to review some data that they've gathered. Since they're obviously not going to show up, we may as well reschedule this meeting"

"Forget it!" Stevens said loud enough for people in the hall to hear. "I've got better things to do than listen to two old has-beens talk about some insignificant invertebrate."

Dr. Anderson stared at Stevens as if he were admonishing a child. "Why don't we put away our petty rivalries and try to foster cooperation."

The brisk entrance of a tall, slender, blond woman dressed in a gray suit interrupted his scolding. Beneath a wrinkled brow, the woman's deep blue eyes stared at Anderson like buoy beacons.

"What is it, Janice?" Dr. Anderson asked his secretary.

"A Lieutenant Harper from the Highway Patrol just called and said that the Hauptman's were involved in an accident near Callus. They're in St. Marinos Memorial Hospital."

A few scientists gasped. All eyes riveted on Dr. Anderson.

Anderson wiped his thin lips with a crumpled handkerchief. "What are their conditions?"

"He didn't say, and I haven't been able to get through to the hospital."

Dr. Anderson turned and rushed to the door, his long legs carrying him there in only two paces. He paused before leaving to address the staff members. "I'm going to the hospital. As soon as I find out anything, I'll report back."

As soon as Anderson left, Stevens turned to his colleagues. "That figures! The Hauptman's have trouble driving let alone working on field expeditions. They're just too old. They should retire."

His diatribe against the two oldest scientists on the staff wasn't very convincing. The members of the peer-review committee filed out of the room without giving George any satisfaction.

Before she took her exit, Dr. Joyce Conners gave Stevens a look that more than adequately expressed her disgust. It was the least she could do.

###

Dr. Julius Stram looked up at his wife and tensed his jaw. He could sense frustration in her dark brooding eyes, and when she's frustrated, her thin lips twist like a pretzel and her narrow face tightens into a pate of sinewy muscle. He didn't need her griping, at least not when he's in the middle of performing a crucial experiment.

But that didn't deter her. She had her own agenda. "Did you retrieve the information that I requested, Julie?"

"No, I didn't. I'm busy. Can't you see?"

Marian Stram jammed her fists into her slender hips and huffed. "We need that information."

"I realize that, but I need to complete my experiment first."

His wife scanned her squinting eyes over the complicated jumble of capillary tubes, microfluidic reaction arrays, micro fabricated pumps, temperature controllers, pressure transducers, and computer interfaces containing dielectrophoresis chips.

"What are you doing, Julie?"

He stared at her with contemptuous eyes for a few seconds before he returned his attention to a computer screen.

"I'm trying to create the missing DNA sequences in that sample we borrowed--I use the term loosely--from Morovich. If I succeed, we may not need your information."

Marian laughed--a derisive, high-pitched cackle. "You are an incurable romantic, Julie.
You have about as much chance as our wining the lottery."

His puffy cheeks reddened. "You never did have confidence in me."

"It's not that I don't have confidence in you; it's just that you are trying to do the impossible. Prediction of DNA sequences without functional-protein-translation data is like a crap shoot."

He turned back to a flickering computer monitor. "It's better than trying to sabotage someone else's work." He turned to look up at her again. "What's so important about those two old scientists anyway? They're just a husband and wife in the twilight of their careers."

"Yes, Julie, they are. But they have seen what we have spent our lives searching for. If they're successful in obtaining . . . we are wasting time, time we can ill afford to waste. We must stop them."

Julius could see that his wife was agitated, and when she gets agitated she's unpredictable, even unstable. He smiled, but his eyes were not smiling. "I'll get your information. You'll have it within the hour."

His wife flashed a twisted smile of conquest and then stomped out of the lab. Julius shook his head and then returned to his work. 

###

The man raises his arms above his head and stretches, a stretch of contentment that only leisure can provide. The sweet smell of warm sand and the nectar of pineapple blossoms fill his nostrils. A gentle tropical breeze thick with morning mist caresses his face. His ears are treated to the rhythmic music of white-capped waves rolling onto a gleaming expanse of white sand.

Ah, this is the life!

Suddenly, the hammock he was lounging in begins to shake violently.

What the hell? The wind hasn't picked up. This place isn't known for earthquakes.

"Eric! Eric! Get up. Dr. Anderson is here!"

What the hell is Dr. Anderson doing on my island?

Eric rolled over and concentrated on bringing the two people standing by his hospital bed into focus. "Oh, Alan! Sorry, I must have dozed off."

"He's always dozing off," Margaret said. "The doctors said that he'd have that problem because of his concussion."

"I don't know about a concussion." Eric struggled to sit up in his bed. "All I know is that I have one hell of a headache."

Anderson couldn't wait. "What happened?"

Eric needed a few seconds to clear his head before he answered. He turned his bandaged, swollen face away. "Some idiot came into our lane. Probably staggered out of one of those road houses on the north end of Calus after an all night binge." He looked up at Anderson with a hint of panic in his bloodshot eyes. "The bastard nearly killed us, Alan. The police have no clue."

Dr. Anderson gently placed his hand on Eric's shoulder, but his face revealed little emotion. "Look, I'm just glad that you two weren't seriously injured."

Eric smiled--a smile of triumph, more than of joy. "The Missus and I have been in worse scrapes than this. We're just banged up a bit. That's all. We'll be back in business in no time. Don't you worry about that."

"No need to be in a hurry," Anderson said. "Get some rest. You certainly deserve it." He glanced at Margaret. "Both of you."

Eric's face muscles tightened. "The doctor told us that we'd be released at the end of the week. You can reschedule that meeting for Monday, assuming we still have the tape, that is."

He turned to look at his wife. "We do have the tape, don't we, Love?"

"Don't get your blood pressure up, dear. I have it in a safe place."

"What's so important about the tape?" Anderson asked, his bushy eyebrows rising slightly.

Eric cleared his throat. "Uh . . . well, let's not spoil the surprise. You'll get to see it at the meeting."

The reply seemed to satisfy Anderson, but his eyes flashed briefly with tacit curiosity.
He avoided pressing the matter. "Well, you two get your rest. We'll see you when you get back."

With that, he quickly strolled out of the room.

Eric chuckled, but it hurt too much to continue. "That guy has always been abrupt like that. No wonder he hasn't been able to stay married very long."

Margaret rewarded him with a devilish smile. "Eric! Shame on you."

They both laughed.