span, with some smaller species living only between six months and a year, while larger species like the Giant Pacific Octopus I was telling you about can live up to five years. The thing is, their growth rate is crazy, so if one managed to live to around a decade or so and was feeding constantly, there’s no telling how big it could get. Octopodes eat until they’re satisfied and grow accordingly. An octopus that lived longer than usual and had all the food it needed would eventually turn into a giant with an appetite to match. It just never happens, but in theory, it could.”
Gabe was digesting everything the marine biologist was saying. In a way, it made the creature a freak of nature, something mysterious and unheard of that came from the bottom of the ocean, a monster like the ones ancient seamen would describe whenever they came across something they’d never encountered before. On the other hand, the scientist’s words also made the unseen monster something that belonged to science, a simple overgrown animal that could be killed just like its smaller cousins could be killed. The first thing scared Gabe a lot. The second made him think that maybe there was a chance he could pull this off without getting his body crushed by a massive, angry leviathan.
“Okay, so maybe we’re only dealing with an overgrown freak. Here’s my next question for you: how do I kill it?”
The moment the question was out of his mouth, Gabe realized there was a chance Emanuel would want to capture the octopus alive or maybe simply want to protect it in the name of scientific research. Instead, the marine biologist leaned forward again and ran his right hand through his full head of unruly, sun-bleached curls.
“This won’t be as easy as killing a fish, man. Fish are dumb, but octopodes are the brains of the ocean. They can solve problems, figure out how to get out of bad situations, and recognize when they’re in danger. One of the reasons they’re so damn hard to keep as pets is that they have a knack for figuring out how to break out of supposedly octopus-proof tanks. Hell, they can even open jars. It won’t be as easy as sending down a baited hook, waiting for it, and then pulling him out and whacking him in the head. You can do that with fish, but not with a cephalopod. You’re gonna have to outsmart this thing. You’re gonna have to turn yourself into the bait, and then take care of it.”
Gabe realized he had been expecting a better answer, something that allowed him to feel like the hunter and not the hunted. In fact, he had been expecting something along the lines of “use poison” or “get him on a hook, and you can easily drag him to the beach with your boat and let him die there.” Instead, Emanuel had given him the opposite of that and now sat there looking at him, expecting a reply. All Gabe could think about was that, as a fisherman, the last thing in the world he wanted was to become bait.
“I don’t know how to go about this, man,” said Gabe. “To be honest, I’m not all that comfortable turning myself into an octopus treat. There has to be another way. Maybe we can put poison inside a bunch of fish and drop them all over the reef and…”
“And kill anything and everything that comes into contact with your fish? That’s a fucking stupid idea. A hell of a lot of people, including you the last time I checked, lived out of what the reef provides. You can’t throw poison around the reef and hope that the animal you’re aiming for finds your bait. Plus, if this beast is really coming to the surface and eating people, both of which are rare occurrences for his species, he probably won’t be on the lookout for anything smaller. It’s just…”
“Okay! I hear you. Forget I said anything along those lines. Can’t I just…get it close to the boat shoot it then? Isn’t there some place on that thing’s body where a harpoon or a bullet would do the trick?”
“An octopodes’ brain is located
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