“Look!” he said to Willa.
She saw the two states of his hands and concentrated. She too was then able to alternate between hologram hands and physical hands. “You gotta love 2.0,” she said.
“Lay back!” Finn ordered Charlene. He caught her under her knees and behind her neck and held her like a baby in his arms. In order to do so, he’d made himself solid.
“Finn, don’t!” Willa said, the spiral of fish closing in on them.
He lay Charlene out on the water’s surface, pulling her arms out as flotation. She steadied and calmed. A thin, athletic girl, her body was muscle and bone and did not float well.
“Take a deep breath and hold it,” he instructed. “Arms and legs out. You’ll float better.”
She did as he said, and though her legs fell away slightly, she stayed on the surface. She managed to relax and immediately calmed.
“I’m sorry,” Charlene said.
“No worries. We’ve got this,” he said encouragingly.
Willa, being Willa, had already adopted the back float alongside Charlene.
“Finn?” Willa said tightly as the water’s surface began to boil with frantic needlefish rapidly closing on them. “Float with us! There’s no time.”
Finn tested Charlene’s hands—they were no longer solid. “Just like that,” he said. “No matter what happens, hold it just like that.”
“Got it,” Charlene said.
“Where’s all clear when you need it?” Willa said.
Finn could only think of Philby and his claim to have added control over 2.0. It made him think of Wayne. And that made him wonder if Wayne now favored Philby over him as the leader of the Keepers.
“Here they come!” Charlene said, pointing with her outstretched arm.
She shouldn’t have pointed. The intention of pointing made her finger solid.
The needlefish took it as an offering of, well, finger food. A hand suddenly broke the surface and swept the needlefish aside just as they were about to feed on Charlene’s finger.
Maybeck’s head popped up.
“Gawd, I love 2.0,” he said. “Did you see that?”
Finn couldn’t stop himself from grinning. Maybeck’s overconfidence—his conceit—was nearly always contagious, if not occasionally grating.
But Maybeck too saw their predicament: the encroachment of the churning swirl of aggressive fish, ever closer. The girls laid out on their backs like so much snack food. Finn’s troubled face.
“F…i…n…n,” a terrified Charlene said, “tell me you have a plan.” She craned her neck to get a look at him.
By this point Maybeck was splashing at the water, trying to hold off the needlefish—a futile effort, but one that occupied him.
“A helicopter rescue would be nice,” Maybeck said. That was another thing about Maybeck: he could lighten up any situation. “Where’s Neptune when you need him?”
Mention of the mythical hero spurred a memory of Triton at Typhoon Lagoon. Of the ocean king standing up to Ursula and holding her off. Of him offering Finn his support in case of trouble. What was the code he’d offered?
“Finn? Buddy?” the splashing Maybeck called out. The ring of foaming water caused by the net of needlefish closed to within a foot of them on all sides. A few brave fish darted toward the outstretched girls. Maybeck and Finn splashed the water, trying to hold them back, but it was a losing effort.
Stressed by the fish attacking, Finn couldn’t recall the code. Little pieces of the expression would float through his consciousness—lies? Cries? He couldn’t grab hold of the whole thing.
The funnel of fish converged toward the center. Open mouths. Teeth.
The words arrived. “Starfish wise, starfish cries.”
“What?” Charlene said.
Finn repeated the Triton code, this time louder.
Nothing happened.
“Dude,” Maybeck said. “You’re losing it. Hang in there.” Then, “Ow!” as a fish took a bite of his hand. Maybeck managed to splash the water and create a hole in the closing silver.
Finn did the same. Then he lowered his head into the water.
To Willa, it looked as if he were sinking. “Noooo!” she screamed.
Finn spoke the Triton code underwater. “Starfish…wise, starfish cries…”
He resurfaced.
Nothing. Only the needlefish.
Then…
“Look!” Willa said, pointing.
Finn turned to see the miracle of angel-like fish popping out of the ocean and flying through the air twenty yards at a time. Dozens at first, then hundreds. Thousands, maybe. Flying right for them.
“We’re doomed,” Charlene said.
“No,” Finn said, “we’re saved. They’re on our side.”