“Yes, I agree.” Hinatea reached to pinch Pat’s flesh and check how much fat there was, and restrained herself just in time.

  “Will you threaten not to have sex?”

  “No, he won’t respond to a threat. I will make him want to do it. Watch me.”

  “I hope you know what you are doing. Will you tell him you have never done this before?”

  “Ha! Of course not. But I hope the old stories are right!”

  “It didn’t work for Moana.”

  “She tried to do it on her own, without a person as bait. We will do it properly. This is very exciting! I have never seen one before!”

  Hinatea leant forward and placed her first barb. “You Harrheinians never see animal like this?”

  “No,” agreed Pat suspiciously, while Rat nodded carefully.

  “Aiee, the Captain will be happy when you bring him back. They not believe it if not see it.” She watched carefully to see the effect of her words, looking for those tiny clues which girls see so effortlessly and of which boys are completely unaware. She saw his breathing speed up ever so slightly, and his lips part slightly. But pride would only go a little way with this one.

  “They very dangerous for fishermen. I wonder how many he eat.” She waited, till she saw his eyes widen slightly. “Poor kai Viti, I bet he catch and eat lots of them. Is why lots of fish here. They cannot fish here.” Pat shifted uncomfortably.

  “Fuck ‘em,” said Rat succinctly. “If they want to fish here, they can be bait. Let’s go back and tell them.”

  “Kai Viti very backward,” said Hinatea disdainfully, with the casual racism of one people for their near neighbours. “They not know how to kill, is why still here. We must help. Is Duty.” Hinatea didn’t quite understand what duty meant, but she knew it was a very powerful word that the Harrheinians reacted to strongly. “Poor little children, grandfathers like to eat very much.” This was especially cunning, as she knew the boys liked the small children and had endless patience with them.

  Rat moved uncomfortably, while Pat went very still. Hinatea knew she was winning and it was time to play the trump card of curiosity. She knew Pat’s buttons and how to press them.

  “Grandfather very clever. He make hole nice to live. Arrange rock way he like. Even he plant soft things outside.” She waved her hands, desperately trying to find the Harrhein words. The boys looked at her blankly. Silmatea scratched her head, not knowing the word either. “You know, much colour, like plant but alive. Has lots of arms and stings little fishes.”

  “Ah,” said Pat with realisation. “You mean anemones. We only have small ones in Harrhein.”

  “He like. He plant big ones by door and feeds them.”

  “Feeds them? Really? How?” Pat allowed his interest to show and peered over the side of the canoe.

  “Look, you can see big an’money there?” She pointed over the side with her paddle.

  “Yes. Wow, it’s huge!” Pat was impressed.

  “When he catch fish, he drop bits in it.” Hinatea thought for a while, and then her innate honesty led to an addition, as she had made up the story on seeing the anemone. “I think is so, I not watch much.”

  Pat peered into the water, hoping to see the giant octopus feeding its anemone.

  “Look at big rocks. He put them outside, make pretty. Inside much nicer. Outside for hiding, inside for pretty. He choose pretty rock.” This was pure fabrication, but she knew that Pat would now want to see inside the cave. “How long can you stop breathing?”

  “Uhh, not as long as you,” Pat replied without thinking, caught off guard, and cursed the admission that he could hold his breath.

  “You must make boom-boom slow,” she said, patting his chest over his heart. “And you breathe deep before dive. Like this.” And she proceeded to hyperventilate, a process which caused her small breasts to rub up and down his arm, a further distraction.

  “Why do I go to that rock?” Pat asked nervously, and Hinatea knew she had won.

  “He have long arm. He reach out and pull you into hole. If you by rock, you hold rock and he cannot pull you. Arm strong, but not enough.”

  Pat grunted unhappily. He looked at the rock, and had to admit that it was pretty big and solid, but there were some solid projections he could hold, maybe even get his feet the other side of it.

  “What about that big beak? Won’t he bite me badly? If it’s as big as you say, he could do some damage.”

  “He not have time,” said Hinatea, hoping it was true and not thinking about Moana’s body, the bits they had recovered, with horrendous gashes where the octopus had bitten her. “Anyway beak not strong, maybe not go through skin.”

  Silmatea tensed at this calumny, and Pat noticed. “I don’t want to do it,” he said grumpily, but without much certainty. Hinatea started to massage his shoulders and Pat knew he was volunteered. Even Rat had worked this out and had released his death’s hold on the seat in the canoe.

  “Practice stop breathe,” instructed Hinatea and he half-heartedly started to hyperventilate. “Properly,” she tapped him gently on the side of the head. Now was not the time for the usual clout. “Now stop breathe.” Pat did so, and she was quite pleased with the result. “Is good. Long enough. Rest now, eat, drink. We go in a bit.”

  Hinatea told Pat to get ready and he started to hyperventilate. He cleared his mind and suppressed his excitement. A natural hunter, he was now enthused about the project and the challenge of pitting himself against a monster in an alien environment. Legends of the great heroes from the past, fighting all sorts of monsters, were flitting through his brain and he was seeing himself up there with the stories. These thoughts all had to go, he knew how dangerous they were. As an expert hunter with a knack of understanding animals, he didn’t for a moment believe Hinatea. He evaluated the octopus, understanding the brain was the weak link and that all those tentacles would be dragging him towards the beak. He carefully looked over the small octopus, examining the brain and the eyes, and was confident the plan would work.

  He dove over the side, straight down to the rock, finding his vision a little blurry under water despite the clarity. He quickly reached the rock and tested the handholds, discarding the first as too rough but getting a good grip on the second, when something tapped him on the shoulder. Twisting, he saw that it was a long tentacle already checking him out. He looked at it with interest and didn’t resist as it wrapped itself gently around his right upper arm. He felt the suckers get a grip, then there was a sharp pain as the claws around the suckers sank into his flesh. Pat was expecting this, and just grimaced, inured to such slight injuries.

  Another tentacle shot out, wafted through the blood released and retracted abruptly. Pat grinned, reckoning correctly that he was being tasted. He couldn’t see anything in the hole, which was a lot smaller than he had expected. The tentacle around his arm tightened, pulling him towards the hole, and he resisted, thinking that he must taste good. No problem, and he waited for the octopus to come out.

  Two big tentacles came towards him and he looked past them where there was a gleam in the shadow, and he thought he could see the eyes looking at him malevolently. He shuddered slightly, not used to being prey, and braced himself as the two tentacles wrapped firmly around his left leg and his torso. These didn’t hurt at all, and he realised they didn’t have the claws. They contracted slightly, pulling him gently but firmly towards the hole and he resisted, not budging. Quickly, they contracted firmly, effortlessly pulling him from the rock, ripping his hands in the process and whipping him swiftly across the ten feet to the hole.

  “Fuck,” said Hinatea from above. She preferred Harrhinian for swearing and was becoming quite adept. As one, she and Silmatea dived down, not hearing Rat calling out.

  Seeing the girls go, Rat panicked slightly, leaning over and watching them go down. He saw them drift away, then realised that it was he who was drifting. He went to the back, picked up the paddle and tried to copy the effortless way in which the girls manoeuvred the canoe. He promptly spun in a circle. He lost his bearings, and it was only because Mot barked and pointed in the right direction that he managed to get the canoe heading back, following the dog’s directions.

  Hinatea went down to the cave quickly and found Pat was jammed against the entrance. She leant down and took his left arm, while Silmatea came down and grabbed his right.

  Pat had not lost his nerve. He was in a higher plane of thought, watching what was happening in an almost out of body situation, with time slowed down and creeping by. He felt the impact as he crashed into the rough coral, and felt his flesh tear as the octopus tried to pull him through the hole. His body strained, but was never going to fit as the octopus rapidly realised. Instead it came forward, and he saw the huge eyes, each bigger than his fist, coming closer and looking straight into his face from inches away. His imagination lent meaning, telling him that the octopus was salivating at the prospect of eating him. His breath was tight in his chest, but he still had awareness as he felt an exploratory tentacle run over his face, probing his ears and nose. He tried to bite it but it whipped away.

  His legs were free now as the monster changed its grip, no longer pulling, just holding. Pat inched his legs up his front, tilting his body slightly so he could get his feet between himself and the octopus. Its inspection finished, he saw the front tentacles spread apart and the eyes tilted backwards as a monstrous beak appeared from underneath. It was huge, easily capable of engulfing his whole head and it looked hard and razor sharp. As it reached with its beak to disembowel him, he felt the girls grip his arms and at the same time he placed his legs on either side of the hole and pushed back sharply, with the girls pulling.

  This unexpected push caught the octopus off-guard, and he came flying away from the hole as the suckers lost their grip. The octopus came boiling out in pursuit, unwilling to give up such a tasty morsel. Two long arms stretched after Pat, while other arms moved along the ground, pulling the body after them, leaving two anchored to the hole.

  Pat kicked frantically for the surface, beginning to ache with the need for air, while Silmatea supported him, Hinatea letting go. The octopus grabbed his left foot and stopped him in mid water. He was desperately trying to kick it off and feeling the talons sinking into his calf, blood blossoming through the water. He could feel Silmatea pulling him and saw Hinatea arrow through the water, now behind the octopus.

  More tentacles gripped his leg, moving higher up his body. They tensed and suddenly the octopus, horrifically, shot through the water and attached itself to his stomach. He looked into its eyes, right in front of his face, hearing Silmatea at his shoulder scream under water as she kicked at it, and the great beak was straining at his stomach. He could feel it rubbing against him as it snapped, not quite at the right angle yet. He put his hands either side of the beak, careful not to get one actually inside it, and tried to push it away, but was unable to get effective leverage. It flexed backwards and time slowed as he felt the point of the huge beak slide into his flesh. The agony was intense, and he strained desperately not to wriggle and lunge which would slice his flesh against the cruel beak.

  Through mists of pain, he saw hands come down over the monster’s eyes, huge in front of his face, and haul them backwards. Hinatea’s head came between him and the eyes, her long hair swirling around him like a death shroud, caressing his cheek in the tide.

  The pain was too much, his chest bursting with the need to breathe, and he felt himself going, breathing out the air and water trying to flood into his lungs. Then he was free of the octopus and Silmatea was pulling him to the surface while he thrashed weakly.

  Rat was desperately fighting the canoe, already exhausted from going round in circles and convinced Mot would bite him if he messed up again, as the dog was going mental around the canoe. He was finally getting to grips with it by paddling on alternate sides, when Mot barked like crazy and jumped over the side, swimming strongly towards a mass of bubbles roiling to the surface. Silmatea burst out of the bubbles and pulled Pat’s head up. It lolled weakly to the side and Mot was beside them, trying to grab his shoulder and lift him up in the water, unsuccessfully. Rat aimed the canoe awkwardly in their direction, while Silmatea left Pat with Mot, took a couple of quick strokes and eeled into the canoe, relieving Rat of the paddle and telling him to pull Pat aboard.

  Quickly she manoeuvred the boat alongside Pat, and Rat pulled him aboard as the blood sluiced out of him. Mot barked wetly through a wave as he forgot her, so he had to pull her in as well. As soon as Pat was aboard, Silmatea stopped paddling, rushed forward and pushed on Pat’s chest, causing him to vomit water. She turned him on his side and he coughed weakly, while she worked his chest till he was breathing to her satisfaction. Through this he continued to bleed.

  This took moments, and as soon as she was satisfied she simply leapt over the side with a rope in one hand. Rat hesitated, not sure whether to take the paddle or help Pat. Mot was beside Pat, licking his wound, so he went to get the paddle, but had no idea where to go.

  “RAT! Throw me spear, quick!” It was Hinatea, her head just out of the water not far away. He saw her fish spear and threw it to her, cursing as he saw it was going to hit her, but she ducked under water. He wasn’t sure if he hit her, and then blood welled up on the surface, followed by thrashing in the water that moved away from the canoe. A fin appeared in the thrashing, and he wondered what was going on.

  An arm came over the edge of the canoe and Silmatea was aboard, the rope between her teeth. She started hauling and shouted at him to help. It was heavy, and he strained, nearly dropping the rope as he saw the octopus was attached to it. Silmatea cursed him, leaned over the side and with difficulty hauled it up into the canoe, with Rat’s fairly ineffectual help. It flopped into the bottom. Rat could see that a couple of tentacles were missing, and he wondered if they were old wounds.

  Silmatea was back at the side, banging on the side of the canoe, splashing the water loudly, then Hinatea was sliding into the canoe, blood dripping down the side of her leg where a large patch was rubbed raw. She was panting for breath. She lay gasping in the bottom, while Silmatea checked her leg and quickly looked for other injuries.

  Hinatea hauled herself upright, grabbed a paddle and staggered to the front, while Silmatea went to the rear and slowly the girls paddled the canoe back though the gap in the reef into the lagoon. Rat stepped gingerly over the octopus, using the sides of the canoe and went to Pat, helping him to sit up. Mot stopped licking him and growled at the dead octopus.

  “Give him coconut water,” Hinatea said over her shoulder, her voice hoarse and strained.

  Rat wasn’t adept at opening a coconut, but managed to slash the top open with an old short sword carried for the purpose. He held it to Pat’s lips, who swallowed greedily. Rat looked Pat over. He had really been in the wars. Both hands were ripped to shreds by the coral, the feet not much better. There were round marks all over his body where the suckers had gripped him, some of them surrounded with deep slash wounds where the claws had bitten deep. And there was a deep gash in his groin, where the beak had gone in, still seeping blood, but despite the flapping skin, superficial.

  The canoe rode a small wave back into the limpid calm waters of the lagoon and the girls rested, Hinatea turning and taking the coconut from Pat.

  He fixed her with a look. “Have you actually hunted those things before?”

  She squirmed and shrugged. “Not that big.”

  “How big?”

  Hinatea looked down, then at the horizon, hoping for a quick squall to come in to change the subject.

  “I bet you’ve never even seen one before, never mind caught one,” said Pat tiredly.

  “We have old stories,” said Hinatea in a small voice. “Our men used to catch them this way.”

  “I think they were smaller,” said Silmatea in an apologetic voice. “Our people always used to kill them before they got big, as they were too dangerous when they got big.”

  “How big is it? All I could see was its bloody eyes, glaring at me as it started to eat me.”

  Hinatea pulled out the longest tentacle, one of the feelers with the pad at the end. It slurped out from under the body sac, the noise making Mot and Rat retreat, both clearly worried it was still alive.

  “You sure it’s dead?” Rat asked nervously.

  Hinatea ignored him. She was looking in astonishment at the length, more than two tall people, almost three.

  “Not even the hero Tafa’i took a grandfather so big,” she whispered. “I never think I see one this big.”

  Silmatea came forward, stepping over Rat and Mot along the gunwale of the canoe and squatted there looking down at it. Then she prodded Hinatea’s leg, just missing the wound.

  “Mao?” She asked. “How many?”

  “I think three sharks,” said Hinatea. “Two get tentacles, I get one.”

  “One come very close,” said Silmatea, inspecting the leg. “From head or tail?”

  “What does she mean?” Rat asked, looking more closely at Hinatea’s leg. It looked as if something had shaved the skin off a large patch.

  “Shark come close,” Hinatea said dismissively. “Their skin very rough. This from head, hit leg.” She prodded Pat’s side, finding a patch without a wound. “Hey, hero, fun, hey? Tomorrow we catch another?”

  Pat grinned at her. “Sure. If we can find this baby’s daddy!” They laughed together and Rat shook his head.

  “How did you kill the thing? Last thing I saw was you being pulled into a hole!”

  “I didn’t fit,” said Pat. “While it was trying to get at me through the hole, it half let go and I kicked off the rock just as the girls got to me and pulled. It followed us out of the hole and grabbed me, started to eat me.” He indicated his groin. “Hin came up behind it, pulled its head back and bit it.”