Page 21 of Rogue Wave

The aquarium had settled into its quieter evening rhythm. The sound of trickling water filled the area around me, along with the filter pumps and other motors keeping our displays running smoothly.

“Any luck?” I asked Vivi as I turned the corner behind Nigel’s tank.

I was already in my dry suit with my scuba gear in my hand, ready to clean the tank.

Her answer was a deep sigh. “So close,” she groaned. “But once again, Nigel has decided to enter his villain era.”

Nigel was our resident Giant Pacific Octopus and, without question, the most dramatic resident at the aquarium. He was two years old, wildly intelligent, and possessed the same behaviors as a two-year-old human—constantly in need of supervision, sassy, and known to throw tantrums when you gave him food he didn’t like.

“I got him out of the tank and into the laundry basket, but as soon as we tried to measure him, he kept sticking his arms out and messing with me, the intern, or both of us,” she explained. “Three attempts and one broken clipboard later, we decided to try again tomorrow.”

I wanted to laugh, but I knew how bullheaded and obstinate he could be, which meant I was likely in for a rough latter half of my shift.

Nigel rested near the front of the tank now, his red and white speckled body spread lazily over some rocks while one arm drifted through the water with suspicious innocence. Like he wasn’t already plotting his next felony.

“I gave him some Lego bricks to play with as a distraction,” Vivi said sympathetically. “So hopefully he’ll be good to go for you while you clean the tank.”

I smiled at her because we both knew the odds weren’t in my favor. “Thanks. I prepped a shrimp popsicle yesterday. Four frozen shrimp in a giant S-shaped block of ice. I’m not above bribery at this point.”

She laughed. “I’ll send the intern back in to guard the tank doors while you clean.”

She wished me good luck and made her way out for the night.

Octopuses by nature were very intelligent creatures, and they needed to be entertained so they didn’t become bored and get into trouble. A bored Nigel was basically an underwater criminal mastermind.

Hamster balls, Lego bricks, and jars with food inside were his favorites, but he was so smart that sometimes those only occupied him for a few moments, and then he was bored—and looking for trouble.

We’d actually had two animals go missing a few months ago. Shipments had arrived but then magically disappeared.

Dr. Marcie had ordered the aquarium a rare peppermint angelfish, which are very hard to find and secure because they are very expensive. We’d only been able to afford one, thanks to a generous donor, so she was beside herself when it went missing hours after being delivered.

Just three weeks later, we received a blue lobster. While not as rare as the angelfish, blue lobsters are caused by a genetic mutation, making them quite a catch for our local aquarium.

While both were suspicious disappearances, the latter one had an obvious suspect.

Nigel.

Not only were lobsters a favorite meal of his, but he was suspiciously full the next day, choosing not to eat his meal or any of his treats. Instead, he hid them in his den for safe-keeping and eating later.

We had no proof that he’d eaten the blue lobster, but I knew a rogue menace when I saw one, and Nigel was suspect number one.

Tonight, my goal was to clean the tank glass, which had developed a cloudy film over the last few days. A simple chore in theory. Less simple when the creature living inside said tank had the problem-solving skills of an engineer.

I grabbed the shrimp-filled block of ice and dropped it carefully into the tank. It floated near the surface for a few moments before his arms shot out to investigate.

Nigel immediately turned bright red with excitement, and I felt my chances of making this a quick cleaning were increasing slightly.

He used his beak to slowly work at the ice to free the food, but it could take up to an hour for him to get all the shrimp free. More than enough time for me to clean the windows.

Or so I thought.

The second I climbed into the tank, Nigel abandoned his shrimp popsicle entirely and came straight toward me.

Seriously?

Two of his arms eagerly curled around my weighted belt while another reached for the scrub brush clipped at my side.

Giant Pacific octopuses had roughly 250 suckers per arm, and those arms were just big muscles. Nigel wasn’t just strong… He was annoyingly determined and stubborn. There was a reason we had secondary containment barn doors around parts of his tank. He’d already escaped twice since arriving at the aquarium. Twice that we knew of, at least.