Data picked up a copy of the Herald on their way back to the hotel. There was a photograph of the shark that had been released by the aquarium, and an update on the mysterious head that had been burped up by the huge fish.
“He’s a Filipino!” Data announced after he had scanned the article.
“How can they tell?” Fahd asked.
“Maybe that’s where his shoes were made,” offered Nish.
“Save your sick jokes for your friends,” Sarah advised. “If you have any left.”
Travis couldn’t help notice that Sarah still hadn’t forgiven Nish for his hit on Wiz.
Nish was in trouble with his whole team, not just Sarah. Travis had told him that Wiz had said he “owed him one,” but Nish had just laughed it off as if the whole thing was no big deal.
Data laid the paper open on his lap and gave the Owls the essence of the article.
“Dental analysis,” he said. “Something about the type of filling material only being available in the Philippines, anyway.”
“Great,” said Wilson. “Only eighty million dental records to check.”
“It’s a start,” Data argued.
“Why don’t they just look for a body that’s missing a head?” Nish suggested.
There was a sharp rap at the door.
Travis, who’d been lying on his bed half watching television while Nish and Fahd napped, jumped up and went quickly to the peephole.
It was Andy, a look of concern on his face.
Travis opened the door to let him in, but Andy had other ideas. He wanted Travis to come with him. “Data’s been on the Internet again,” he said. “Says he thinks he might have found something.”
Data was deep in thought when they walked in, staring at the screen of his laptop as if it held some enormous secret he could not quite read.
He turned his chair when he heard the door click. “Hi, Trav,” he said. “I’ve been doing some research for us. Did you know the number-one research spot for seahorses is in Canada? Project Seahorse, at McGill University in Montreal.”
Travis shook his head. Of course he didn’t know.
“Project Seahorse has links to everyone. They’ve even funded an experiment with fishermen in the Philippines to see if they can build a seahorse fishery that’s sustainable.”
Travis wondered when Data was going to get to the interesting part. But he said nothing.
“The Philippines is where almost all seahorse fishermen come from,” Data continued. He clicked the mouse and a page from a scientific article popped up. “The average income in those villages is around three hundred dollars,” he read. “That’s for an entire year. Can you imagine?”
“I get almost that for my allowance,” said Andy.
Travis shook his head. It was exactly the amount of money he’d brought on this trip, and he’d been planning to spend every penny before leaving. He felt a little guilty that a person might make no more than that in an entire year – and be expected to feed a family on it.
“That’s the huge attraction of seahorse harvesting,” Data continued. “Remember that bowl of seahorse soup Fahd found on the Internet – four hundred and fifty dollars for just one bowl in Taiwan?”
Travis nodded. He remembered.
“And a kilogram of dried seahorses being worth as much as fifteen thousand dollars?”
Travis nodded again.
“That’s why there’s such a big concern about the future of seahorses. Already one species on the endangered list and several others in trouble. Areas that used to produce lots of seahorses are now fished out around the Philippines, and now there are press reports about Philippine fishermen in Australian waters after seahorses – apparently it’s becoming a major political issue.”
Travis could no longer help himself. “So?”
“So,” Data said slowly, as if explaining to a very dull student, “if seahorses are that valuable, what must a seadragon be worth?”
Travis half followed, but still couldn’t figure out exactly where Data was headed.
“Did you get a good look at that guy who attacked Nish?” Data asked.
Travis shook his head. “I didn’t see much.”
“Anything?” Data asked. “Eyes? Colour of hair? Anything at all.”
“Black,” Travis answered after he thought about it. “He had black hair. Thick and fairly long. It was flowing when they fought.”
Data clicked through a few more pages. Travis waited for him to say more, but Data seemed deep in thought.
“What?” Travis finally asked.
“Remember Wiz saying the head had been sliced off by a machete?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that suggests he was executed. The police have said he was Filipino. Maybe he was poaching around that island and maybe the guy who attacked Nish – or the gang that guy belonged to – decided they wanted him out of there so they could have all the seadragons to themselves.”
“I don’t know,” said Travis.
“How much do you think that sack of seadragons he had weighed?”
Travis had no idea. They’d immediately let go the ones that were still alive, and they’d thrown overboard the ones that were dead – except, of course, for the one that Sarah had so carefully saved and that was now dried out on a dresser in the room Sarah was sharing with Liz, Sam, and Jenny.
“Wet or dry?” Travis asked. He’d noted there was quite a difference after being allowed to examine Sarah’s treasure.
“Dried,” Data said.
“I don’t know. A couple of pounds, at least. More than a kilo.”
Data gave a very slight nod of satisfaction. “Seahorses at fifteen thousand dollars a kilogram,” he said slowly. “Think how much a kilogram of seadragons would be worth to a poor fisherman.”
Travis tried.
He could imagine the money. He could not, however, imagine it being worth taking a machete and lopping off a person’s head.
Nothing could be worth that.