THE BOAT SLICED THROUGH THE WATER OF MODEL LANDS Basin. Dusk was approaching, and the coming darkness would help disguise his activities. Dr. Catalyst piloted the craft with precision, circling in a widening arc until most of the other boats had left. To an observer he looked like any other fisherman.

He let the engines idle until the boat glided to a stop. For the last three nights a large pontoon boat had brought divers to this area, offering patrons a chance to snorkel the reef at night. Dr. Catalyst could hardly believe their stupidity. Apparently they didn’t know that most species of sharks fed at night. It never ceased to amaze him how casually some people behaved toward nature. Another reason why the environment was being ruined: careless behavior.

The group there tonight was about to get a visit from creatures that were very hungry and would be attracted to the noise and lights of the divers. Not to mention the fact that the reef was crawling with lionfish.

Dr. Catalyst opened the catch tank. With the flashlight app on his tablet he inspected his Muraecudas. There were six of them today. He watched as they slithered and splashed in the shallow water. It was feeding time.

Pressing an icon on his tablet was all it took to release the creatures into the ocean. The mechanism whirred and the cover folded into place. The stern of the boat sank slightly as the tank took on water, but then righted itself as the bottom closed and the pump siphoned the now-empty tank. Even if he’d wanted to stop his creatures, he couldn’t.

Now he waited. Though they were fast swimmers, it would take some time for his beasts to cover the distance. And unlike with his Pterogators, he was unable to attach a camera or tracking device to these creatures that would survive the extended exposure to salt water. He would know they’d reached their destination by the reaction of the swimmers.

He waited at the stern, watching. As the minutes passed and nothing happened, his spirits flagged. Something must have gone wrong. The Muraecudas might have been distracted by a school of fish, or found something else edible between his boat and the divers. The resistance of this species to training had proven more problematic than —

Shouts echoed across the water. First the voices sounded curious. As if someone aboard the pontoon boat was attempting to clarify something. Then came yells of alarm, rising in pitch and frequency. Apparently the divers had just been introduced to South Florida’s newest predator.

Dr. Catalyst scanned the boat with his night-vision binoculars. People were clambering out of the water. Two of the divers were clearly injured and had to be dragged aboard by the others. Their screams were the loudest of all.

There was a great deal of commotion on the deck. Dr. Catalyst couldn’t see the state of the injured divers, but the boat’s engines started up, and it accelerated quickly across the water. Even over the sound of the engines, he could still hear the agonized screams of grown men in horrific pain. Someone shouted, “More pressure! You need to apply more pressure!” followed by, “We’ve got to stop the bleeding!” and he smirked. They had learned a cruel, hard lesson.

He watched until its running lights disappeared as it approached the shore.

Dr. Catalyst set the night-vision goggles on the console of his boat and slid the throttle back. His vessel picked up speed, and he carefully navigated a return course to his base. Hopefully the divers would report their encounter to the authorities and the media would run with it. After that it was up to the governor, Dr. Geaux, and the rest of the government toadies.

Until then, he would continue to escalate tensions. He would release more and more of his Muraecudas until someone blinked. In the meantime, he had one more thing to do that would really create attention for his cause.

Turning the boat, he headed north. He had urgent business in Florida City.