“Eeee!” Hinatea said, looking at it. “A trevally - they very fierce, too big to catch on line. Break it every time. Don’t fish while he here. You no catch anything, he take bait and break line every time.”
Rat hurriedly pulled his line in, and indeed the trevally raced after it, snatching the bit of octopus tentacle off without hooking itself. They watched the trevally in silence as it circled about underneath them, all its fins raised and clearly highly annoyed.
Silmatea surfaced, some distance away, shouting shrilly in Pahippian. Hinatea shouted back and started the canoe racing towards her. Silmatea climbed aboard in great excitement, stammering out her story and shaking as she did so. The two girls conducted a long conversation in Pahippian, big smiles on their faces and the level of excitement going higher and higher. All the time Hinatea paddled slowly, keeping the canoe over the same area.
Pat and Rat wondered what was going on and eventually managed to get the girls to speak Harrhein.
“Is a grandfather!” Silmatea squeaked in excitement. “The biggest ever!”
“You help us catch him,” stated Hinatea, looking down into the water. “We cannot catch normal way.”
“We will be so proud,” said Silmatea. “Not many people ever see a grandfather this big, and very rare to catch one.”
“Remember one at Hula’ao,” said Hinatea. “It kill and eat girl who try catch it.”
“Oh, yes, that was Moana. I liked her. She was very silly to try and catch one on her own.”
Pat and Rat were feeling slightly alarmed. “What is a grandfather?’ Pat asked.
“Like the little ones, but bigger,” Hinatea waved at the octopus vaguely.
“Bigger? You said they only got this size,” accused Pat, worried and holding his hands apart. “How much bigger?”
“Is not eight leg. Is grandfather. Is different. Look, there is one of his legs.” She pointed through the waves.
Pat looked, but all he could see was a large moray eel, actually a huge eel nearly twice as long as he was. In fact he couldn’t see its head and with a sinking feeling he realised that it was an octopus tentacle.
“Dear God,” Rat said quietly, while Mot, who was also looking over the side, barked and licked his face enthusiastically. “The fucking thing is enormous. Wait, if that is one of its legs, how big is the bloody beak?”
“Oh, probably about like your hands together,” said Silmatea matter of factly, adroitly manoeuvring the canoe to get a better look at the hole the monster lived in.
“How are you going to catch it?” Rat asked. “I don’t think your sticks are big enough.”
“No, you right,” said Hinatea. “We need him out of hole. So we use bait. He come out, start to hold bait, Silmatea and I swim down and catch him.”
“What do you mean, ‘catch him’?” asked Pat. “You won’t fit him into a little net.”
“We pull head back and bite between eyes, like with eight legs. Must bite hard, but he die, easy.”
Pat and Rat digested this slowly, as the enormous tentacle slowly retracted into the cave. Another one came out and moved a rock around in the entrance. This tentacle looked different.
“That his catching hand,” said Hinatea. “See, is flat at end? Also has claw to help hold.”
“Charming,” said Rat in a shocked tone. “Are we safe in the canoe? Can it reach up and grab us?”
The girls looked at each other and shrugged.
“Probably,” said Silmatea. “I think I hear of it happening many years ago.”
“Fuck this,” said Rat, who was as brave as anyone, but courage tended to evaporate in the eggshell of a canoe. “Let’s get out of here before it notices us.”
“No,” said Hinatea firmly. “We must catch it. Very good eating, and stop it catching people fishing and the Gods will be pleased. They hate the grandfathers.”
“What are you going to use as bait?” Pat asked, picking through the fish they had caught and pulling up the largest, inspecting it critically. It was a red snapper and he thought it would be suitable.
“You,” said Hinatea, looking at him with her eyes twinkling.
“What?” Pat said, startled, while Rat’s mouth dropped open.
“You swim down, hold onto that rock there. He reach out and taste you with arm. He try pull you into hole. You hold rock tight. Then he come out to you, and hug you. Me and Silmatea swim down and kill him. Easy.”
Pat stared at her in shocked silence for a good minute before he spoke.
“ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? NO WAY!” he shouted. Pat hardly ever swore.
“What mean crazy?” Hinatea asked with interest. “New way of fucking?”
Pat didn’t reply, his mouth was working with nothing coming out. Rat was staring over the side at the monstrous tentacle, his face white. Mot thought it was all wonderful and barked excitedly, wagging her tail.
Hinatea turned to Silmatea, and spoke in Pahippian
. “Which one do you think we should use?”
Silmatea eyed the two boys, both now looking over the side of the canoe.
“Yours, I think. He is bigger. The grandfather might not come for mine, too skinny.”
They were both careful not to use the boys names.
“How are you going to make him go down? He is very scared.”
“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.