2~
With the gallery already vacated, the two trapped patrons found it much easier to evade the creature, as they ran from pillar to post, or, more technically, from wall to panoramic tank and back.
"What's that thing doing here?" Marcie managed to ask before ducking a forceful, yet clumsy, swipe from the creature, towards her face. Its claws, instead, striking across the acrylic face of a tank that she had back up against, not breaching it, but leaving deep furrows that could be easily seen.
"It was lurking, I suppose," Schrödinger surmised. "I believe it has the look of a lurker."
The two momentarily split up to different sides of the room, hoping to make being captured an even harder task for the monster.
"Why is after you?" she asked from her side. "You felt ambitious one day and tried to eat it?"
"Hardly," the cat sniffed, after scampering away from between the Sea Beast's thick legs. "I only snuck into the basement last week looking for shelter and something to eat. We ran into each other, there, and he's, obviously, been trying to eat me ever since!"
Marcie stopped by one of the corners that was made up of a wall and one of the aquariums and opened up her arms when Schrödinger leaped away from the Sea Beast's close grasp.
"Up here," she said. And with that the Siamese bounded over to her and jumped into her arms.
The Sea Beast turned and stomped towards the duo with menace, closing the distance in the room.
Marcie decided that this chase had lasted long enough and slipped a hand into her jacket.
"Can you hold your breath?" she asked Schrödinger.
"I suppose. Why?"
Sheriff Stone's large, khaki-colored frame made him stand out among his subordinate deputies, the rattled patrons, an Ocean Land security guard, and two lab-coated scientists, all gathered in safety and concern outside the main entrance of the building.
The guard walked over to the front doors and reached out to open them, when they suddenly swung open on their own accord with some urgency. A coughing Marcie and an armful of hacking cat hurried outside, trailing thick, acrid smoke that filled half the forward gallery's interior, the released contents of one of her Discouragers.
Some distance from the entrance, Marcie hunched over, hands on knees, as Schrödinger hopped out of her arms, allowing her to catch her breath.
"You've got a...monster in there," she wheezed to the guard she had just beaten to the door.
"Monster?" he reflexively asked. "Him again?"
Wanting to see for himself, the guard stepped in and stood as far inside the threshold as he deemed safe, while outdoor breezes flowed in, causing the smoke to swirl, and then dissipate.
When the miasma finally faded, it became clear enough to see, but he could see nothing inside. No creature or beast. However, green stained paw prints and claw marks patterned the walls and tanks, and tell-tale strips of seaweed were strewn all over the floor, along with wet, muddy tracks that proceeded them.
"Do you see it?" asked a recovering Marcie.
"There's nothing there," the guard said. "If he was there, he left his tracks everywhere."
"Trust me," Marcie said, glancing back at the building's facade. "That thing gave us a workout back there."
"The Sea Beast struck again, huh?" asked the younger of the two scientists present, flippantly.
His partner, a balding, older colleague, gave a scowl as the preamble to his reply. "Never mind that nonsense. Focus on why we called the police in the first place."
"Hey, maybe the two are connected," the younger scientist shrugged.
"Do you mind?" said the other, wondering what was wrong with him that he would be so blassie about this very critical issue. "We have to deal with this."
Stone brought up his hands in a peacekeeping gesture, already tired of the argument between him. "Okay, okay, citizen. What was missing again?"
"Our sturgeon eggs," said the older scientist.
"You mean, like...fish eggs?" asked the sheriff, confusion dawning into annoyance.
"Yes," came the straight-faced reply.
Stone didn't know whether to laugh or yell in the man's face. Then, he made his decision.
"Fish eggs?" he yelled at the man. "That's what you called me down here for? Live bait?"
"Please, don't shout," the elder scientist bade him while trying to rub the tension from his temples "It's bad enough that this Sea Beast business is disrupting our research and the customers' enjoyment of this place, but our canister of rare, super-endangered sturgeon eggs from Russia turns up missing, as well. However, I'd rather you deal with the eggs than...than it."
The sheriff couldn't believe the situation he found himself.
'Science-types!' he screamed in his head. 'No good ever comes from them!' Then, he pointed a thick, accusing finger at Marcie, nearby. "That's what you should've called her for."
He fully turned to her and vented. "You do this sorta thing behind our backs all the time, don'tcha, Mary?"
"That's Marcie," she calmly corrected him.
Stone ignore her and continued his rant. "Whatcha gonna call this one? Don't tell me! Don't tell me! The Case of the Missing Caviar?"
"No, no," Marcie deadpanned. "You keep that one. That's way too good for me."
Now it was the older scientist's turn to raise his hands to stop the two of them from arguing.
"Please, people!" he begged.
"Wait a minute," Stone asked suspiciously, a conspiratorial thought just entering his head. "I thought this was just an aquarium. Why are you scientists working here?"
"Ocean Land houses the Arthur Ingstrom Marine Research Laboratory, as well," the elder scientist explained. "We're kind of behind-the-scenes, here."
"That's a shame," Marcie remarked. "The people should get a chance to see you guys in action, too. Let them see that science and Ocean Land go together, hand-in-hand."
"Maybe you're right, dear," the scientist sighed with long-suffering frustration. "But these Sea Beast sightings keep scaring away the customers from here. There won't be an Ocean Land or a research lab to house, if this keeps up."
"Ugh! Enough of this egg-headed malarkey," Stone moaned, wanting to get back on topic. "And what's a Sea Beast?"
"It's just some urban legend around the aquarium," the younger scientist told him. "See, in the sixties, scientist were said to have been working on gene splicing and whatnot, and one night they created a chimera, a life-form made from genes from one sea animal, here, another sea animal, there. They called it the Sea Beast. Legend has it that it broke out of the labs and has been stalking the lower floors of Ocean Land ever since."
Although the tale was short, Stone found himself biting the broad brim of his hat in fear, his imagination running far away from him. He couldn't help but think...what if it were real?
"Don't worry, Sheriff," chuckled the young scientist. "Like I said, it's just an urban legend among us scientists. Shame we haven't caught the Beast and made him an attraction, though. He could've had this place packed."
"Oh, yeah?" his older co-worker grumbled. "Look inside the gallery. Look at the mess. That doesn't look like a legend to me. Administration will have to close the place down to the public and I don't know what that'll mean to the labs."
He then focused his disquiet on Stone. "And in the meantime, Sheriff Stone, when you're through dinning on your hat, are you and your men going to find out what happened to our canister?"
"Not to worry, citizen. For although you wasted my time with what I can almost deem a crank call, I will, thanklessly, do my civic duty for you," Stone announced, puffing up his chest in self-importance. "Yes, even though I could have been summoned somewhere else on something far more important that finding your smelly fish eggs, I, Sheriff Bronson Stone, will devote my resources and my vast crime-fighting skill to locating them."
"Hmm," Schrödinger purred to Marcie. "I can see why you would do his job for him."
"Who said that?" Stone asked in a wail.
Marcie pointed to the ground near her feet. "He did."
Instead of marveling at the notion of a talking cat, Stone's frustration had him stomp up and point a warning finger at the feline.
"Hey, you!" he said to the nonplussed puss. "Nobody likes a sassy cat."
Then, after pointing that same finger at Marcie, he warned her, "And you! You better keep an eye on your pussy, Melissa."
"That's Marcie and that's not...my..." she sighed, stopped herself from responding to what certainly didn't sound right, but by then, he and his men had started to leave.
As the security guard began to sheppard the patrons in the direction of the parking lot, the older scientist turned to follow his colleague back into the aquarium, when he caught sight of some one in crowd and his ire returned.
"You!" he called out to a man in a tailored suit. "What are you doing here?"
The man stopped and turned to the scientist with a smarmy smile, confident in his answer to the question.
"Now, Redding, there's no crime in checking out the little fishies, now is there?" he asked.
"That's Doctor Redding, to you," the scientist fumed. "Why are you here? I thought I told you that you can't have any samples of our fish egg specimens for your new flavors."
"You know that I was only joking about that," the sharp-dressed man said. "I wouldn't dream of touching your precious eggs. How could I? I've got problems of my own, setting up my own cat food company."
"Cat food?" Schrödinger perked up. "Now that's a man who sounds near and dear to my heart. Who is he?"
Marcie shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll ask him for yo-"
"Excuse me," Schrödinger spoke up. "I am only a humble connoisseur, but I was wondering who you might be and what sort of brave new flavors were you going to shower on the cat food market?"
The businessman glanced over to their general location, directing his pitch towards Marcie. "Well, little lady, since you asked-"
"I didn't," Marcie corrected him, pointing, once again to the ground near her feet.
He looked askance. "Oh! Heh. Normally, it would be you, as a customer, that I'd be telling this to," he told her, but then, as an incredulous courtesy, he directed his words to the cat.
"Never seen a talking cat before," he found himself saying to him.
"Well, prior this week," Schrödinger said smoothly. "I've never seen a giant, marauding fish before. Life is full of curiosities."
"Yeah, I guess so," the man agreed, uncertain of how to take the cat's comment. Then, because he was feeling rather uncomfortable having to chat with a cat, he decided to direct his conversation back to the human girl.
"Anyway, I'm Chas Andrews, I used to be co-owner of Tabby Tummy Cat Foods. I'm starting my own company, but because of the competition, I have to set myself apart. Other cat food companies say that they've got gourmet flavors, but I wanted to make some real gourmet foods for the company. Y'know, like dolphin, turtle, whale-"
"Or maybe, rare sturgeon?" asked Marcie. "I'd say shark, but, professional courtesy and all that."
"That would be nice," Chas said, either not catching or ignoring the jibe. "But, hey, it's like I told the good doctor. I wouldn't grab his eggs, though if he ever did get a hold of 'em for me, I'd cut him in for a percentage of the profits. Heck, I might even make him a partner in my new company. In charge of finding wild, new species for the business, you understand."
With a corporate smirk, he looked back at the cat.
"Hey, how would you like to be my company spokesperson, little fella? You can be like that parrot who talks for Creationex. You'd have all the cat food you wanted. Heck, you could even be my number one taste-tester."
Schrödinger's eyes grew wide in avaricious thought and a greedy grin bring his whiskers up at the sides. Then, another thought made him slowly cock his head to one side, and he looked up at Marcie.
"What do you think?" he asked her, which made the girl cock her head to one side, as well, in slight confusion.
"About what?" she asked him with a shrug. "You're not my cat. You can do whatever you want."
"I know, but I have always prided myself on being a good judge of character and I value your thoughts, Marcie," he said to her.
With a sigh, she looked over to the company owner. "I don't know, Mr. Andrews. Uh, we'll let you know if we ever come to a decision."
"Fair enough," he said, considering the matter closed and then strolling over to his lengthy car. "Well, I gotta be going. Cat food waits for no man...or cat!"
As the people began starting their cars and driving away to better weekend venues, Marcie and Schrödinger were left alone, the girl giving a slight frown to the cat.
"I don't know why you're so interested in me," she groused, heading for the parking lot.
"At the moment," Schrödinger explained, as he quietly followed her. "I figured since we've both faced certain death, and from the look on your face, you haven't a friend in the world, a bit of company would be nice."
Marcie reddened. She was angry that her emotions were so easy to see, that even some alley cat could make them out. She stopped and gave him a glance that was equal parts sad, insecure, and defensive. "I don't need a pet in my life."
"I don't actually need people in mine," he countered, easily. "I was just trying to be charitable."
"I don't need charity, Schroeder," Marcie said, purposely saying his name wrong as an mild insult before getting into her car. "Go find someone else to hang out with. The last thing I need is some talking cat lady start-up kit."
She slid the key into the ignition and was preparing to turn it when she looked into her rear view mirror and saw the cat's little head pop up from the back seat, giving her a start.
"That's Schrödinger, Marigold," he replied. "Besides, I'm between places, now that the Sea Beast has essentially forced me out."
"I guess he's a better guard that the ones they've got, since you're not supposed to be there. Now, get out of my car!
"Well, yes, technically, that's true," he admitted, ignoring her. "However, I would like to offer an interesting proposition."
"Which is?" Marcie slowly asked. She was learning to be suspicious of this fast-talker.
"You get rid of that noisome creature and I'll leave you be," Schrödinger said, simply.
"Here's a counter-proposal," Marcie said, not wanting to get involved with cats or monsters on a weekend. "You get out of my car, now, and I won't drive to the Pacific Coast Highway and throw you out...while I'm still moving."
The cat laughed the threat away and continued. "Oh, honestly, Marcie. Why are you behaving like this? We both know that you could solve this immediate problem just like that. You certainly have the brains for it. And that incompetent sheriff is obviously jealous of that. Besides, I've been in town long enough to have known of your...exploits."
That gave Marcie some pause. How would he know about anything she had done? "What are you talking about?''
"Hmm, modest, too," he said, taking a bracing breath of the nearby sea air. "Let's see...Defeating that criminal hypnotist, helping out the Wacky Races Reality Show, handling that chop-shop operation, and the kidnapping, and that nasty bit of business in Gatorsburg. Oh, and let's not forget, foiling that terrorist group, PERIL? You would have made Agent Samson proud. Err, have I left anything out?"
"How do you know about all that? Have you been keeping tabs on me, cat?"
"I just read a lot," he assured her. "Now, will you come to my aid as you have so many others? Flush this monster down the proverbial drain, so that I, as a citizen of this fair town, may sleep, and perhaps eat, in peace?"
"Solving a mystery just so I can help you squat in a public place?" she reasoned aloud. "I'm sure there's a law against that. Besides, didn't you say earlier that you didn't need people in your life? What do you call this?"
"I said I didn't need people. That's plural," the cat corrected her. "You are a person. Singular. Besides, you needn't worry. I'll take care of the squatter's issue, myself. You'll never be blamed. Now, do I have your word?"
Marcie gave some thought before she said anything that this cat could spin to his advantage. Then, she finally said to him, "Well, since I don't really want a cat, I guess you do have my word. But what makes you think I'll keep it?"
"Like I said before. I pride myself on being a good judge of character. You've proven in the past to be of good character to the people of Crystal Cove, so I trust you."
'Damn, you'd be a hell of a lawyer,' she thought, blushing at the well-said and unexpected compliment.
"Well...since you put it like that..." she sighed in acquiescence. "I can't believe it, but I guess I can help you."
"Excellent!" he said, before curling up on one of the back seat's cushions.
"One thing, though," Marcie said.
"Yes?"
"You're in my car. If you scratch my upholstery, back there, I'll redo the seats with your hide," she told him with smiling menace.
With a quiet gulp, the cat murmured, "Understood."
With that, she took the key from the ignition and thoughtfully looked back at Ocean Land.
"Guess I'm not going home after all," Marcie said with a sigh.