DR. CATALYST DONNED HIS WET SUIT AND SCUBA GEAR. He pushed a switch on the console near the ship’s wheel for the proximity alarm. If a swimmer or another boat approached while he was in the water, a special watertight communicator on his wrist would vibrate a warning. He wasn’t going to allow anyone to stop him this time, not the U.S. Coast Guard or those brats Emmet and Calvin.

Double-checking to make sure his tanks were full of air, he buckled himself into the rig and rolled backward off the boat. Also attached to his wrist was an underwater video camera. This time he would have to film his creations’ first successful deployment from beneath the water.

Unlike with his Pterogators, Dr. Catalyst would not be able to return the Muraecudas to his base. They were not as trainable. They would stay free in the ocean, ridding it of the venomous pests. He was certain they would clear the reefs of lionfish in a matter of months.

Some scientists in Honduras had attempted to train sharks to feed on lionfish, but with only limited results. Since lionfish were reef dwellers, he had thought long and hard about what could thin their numbers.

Barracudas fed on the fish that congregate on or near reefs. Moray eels made their nests among the nooks and crannies of the coral. And the reef shark was able to sit still upon the ocean floor waiting for prey to swim into its territory. It was the ideal combination.

And now he had the perfect set of test conditions. A reef full of lionfish, according to reports from the Florida fisheries’ records. And a group of obnoxious kids. He was certain the Muraecudas would ravage the lionfish. But what would happen if the nearby humans approached them?

Dr. Catalyst hadn’t a clue. But he was anxious to find out.