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That’s Rosina. She’s not the most friendly sort, if you know what I mean. Are you guys going to the Poseidon Theater?”
    â€œYeah,” Tristan replied, staring at her large gray-blue eyes. They seemed to sparkle with curiosity and maybe a little mischief.
    â€œGreat, me too,” Sam said, walking in the direction the girl Rosina had gone.
    Tristan and Hugh looked at one another. Neither of them was used to girls coming up and talking to them, especially pretty ones. Then again, it wasn’t like she just started talking to them out of the blue. After all, they had run into her, nearly plowed her down in fact. Tristan didn’t know what to say. As it turned out, he didn’t have to worry about his ability to make conversation.
    â€œWhere are you from? Me, I’m from Maine. The water there is really cold and there’s lots of lobster. People come from all over to eat them. There aren’tany fish like in the streams here. Did you see the dolphins in the lagoon? Isn’t this awesome? What did you say your names were?”
    â€œI’m Tristan and he’s Hugh.”
    â€œI’ve never been snorkeling. Have you? Can’t wait to do it. And a wave pool, that is soooo cool.”
    â€œYeah, should be awesome,” Tristan said, looking at Hugh and wondering how she could talk so fast and breathe at the same time.
    â€œWonder when we’ll get to go in? Hope it’s tomorrow. Though I don’t really want to go with Rosina. Who else is in your room? Hey, how did you get all wet? Where did you say you’re from?”
    Tristan just looked at her, his mouth slightly agape. He wasn’t sure which of her questions to try to answer before she started talking again.
    Sam laughed awkwardly. “Sorry ‘bout that, I kinda talk a lot when I get nervous.”
    â€œKinda a lot?” Tristan asked with a grin.
    Sam shrugged and they all laughed, then headed to the Poseidon Theater.

    It was dark inside the secret room hidden between the Poseidon Theater and the Conch Café. The only light came from the images on the flat screens mounted on the walls and spread out on the curved table at the front.
    â€œIt looks like it’s in the Bermuda Triangle area again,” Jade said.
    â€œJade, I’ve told you several times. Please do not call it that,” Director Davis instructed.
    â€œOkay, well, word is that there’s something happening in the Bahamas,” Jade responded, pointing to a screen where a satellite image of the Bahamas showed an area outlined in red. There was a wishbone-shaped series of small islands in the middle of the highlighted region.
    â€œAnything more specific? What about you Flash, any word from the net?” Director Davis asked, directing his question to a curly-haired African American boy sitting in a swivel chair at the front table.
    The boy’s fingers flew over several keyboards as he talked. “Director, I’m patched in and sources in the region tell us that there’ve been several blasts in the area, a subsea sandstorm, and several pilot whales have been injured.”
    â€œAny idea on the cause? Is it a military exercise?”
    â€œDoesn’t appear to be, usually they let us know on those ahead of time.”
    â€œShould we send a team in?” Jade asked eagerly.
    â€œNot so fast,” the director responded. “I’d like to get a little more information before we rush in, especially now. Tap into the satellites and ocean observing buoys. And see if the seismic instruments have picked anything up. I’ll make a few calls.”

4

    SHOWTIME!

    T RISTAN , H UGH , AND S AM WERE THE LAST TO arrive at the Poseidon Theater. The other new campers were already there, sitting on the tiered benches of the large half-roofed amphitheater. At the front was a large stage area with a shallow pool curving around it and behind that, were some tall reddish-tan rocks and greenery. The theater