Suck me softly - Prologe

Katie desperately scrolled through her phone, speed-dialing every wholesale and restaurant contact she had. “RJ, I need your help! Shrimp, crab – anything! Everyone's telling me they're completely out until next week!” Her voice was tight with panic.

"Sorry, Kate, I wish I could. We're in the same boat. We snapped up everything Steve had left."

"What am I going to do?" Katie asked, her tone rising with frustration. "I've got a charter going out this weekend!"

"Steve mentioned they're using a new supplier," RJ said. "Might be worth a shot."

"Really? Who?"

"Hold on, it was on the box… Ah, here it is. Some fancy aquaculture place. Sustainable Seafare, it says. The number is 365-558-7634."

Katie was typing the number into her phone "Got it!"

"Good luck, Kate... sorry we couldn't help.”

“Don’t be! This is great, RJ. Thanks!" she replied, already tapping the number into her phone.

The name immediately pulled up a website. Sustainable Seafare? Katie frowned. Why hadn't she heard of them before? A quick scroll revealed an "About Us" page, followed by a map. "Oh, hell yes! It's right by the marina!" she exclaimed. 

As she hurried to her car, she dialed the number. It rang twice before someone answered.

"Hello, is this Sustainable Seafare? Perfect! Do you sell direct?"

A muffled voice confirmed,

"Okay, great! Could I come by and take a look before placing an order?"

“Mmmhmmm… great, I’ll be right there!" Katie slammed her palm against the steering wheel, a surge of hope flooding her.

Aquaculture wasn't new, but the sheer scale of the inland farm surprised Katie. It was a complex of four gleaming quonset huts, their long, domed steel forms looking almost futuristic against the landscape. She parked and headed toward the closest one, a sign above the side door identifying it as the processing center.

As she got out of the car, the large bay door of the hut rumbled open, revealing a young man. "Come on over, you must be Katie. John said you were on your way."

"Yes, I am! Thank you," Katie said, offering a smile.

"No problem at all," the man replied, shaking her hand. "I'm Tom. John's in the next building over. I can take you to him. Give you a quick tour on the way."

"That would be great. Nice to meet you, Tom."

Tom led Katie into the massive quonset hut. The air inside hung thick with the distinctive, salty tang of seawater. Her eyes adjusted to the bright, artificial light, and she saw four converted shipping containers, each brimming with water and laced with a network of pipes and machinery.

"What are these?" she asked, gesturing towards the equipment attached to the containers.

"This is our shrimp farm," Tom explained, a clear note of pride in his voice. "We're raising shrimp from fry, controlling their environment, and augmenting their growth. Instead of relying on wild catches. We can customize the size for our customers. It's safer and, frankly, more efficient than commercial fishing."

"Augmenting their growth?….Like any size?" Katie asked, both confused and intrigued.

"Yep. In that last one," he pointed, "we've got our 'Super Colossals'. Perfect for shrimp cocktails. We're getting about ten shrimp per pound out of that tank."

"Only ten!?" Katie exclaimed, peering into the container. "We buy colossal shrimp all the time, but they're usually sixteen to the pound, at least. Those are huge." She strained to see through the water, and even with the slight distortion, she could tell the shrimp were significantly larger than any she'd seen before.

"And if a client wanted bigger, we could accommodate that," Tom chuckled. "We even had a request once for shrimp the size of a fist. I don't think you can really call them shrimp at that point, though."

They stepped out of the building and into the narrow alley between the structures. Four more quonset huts were behind the ones she saw from the parking lot. Eight buildings stood shoulder-to-shoulder, creating a shadowed path ahead.

“Crab central in here," Tom announced. "Mostly local rock and blue claw, but we've also got a refrigerated tank for snow and Dungeness."

“King crab?” Katie asked.

“Not yet," Tom admitted. "Need a bigger operation for those monsters. But we've been experimenting with different set ups. Anyway, this is it.” He pushed open a side door on the last building. “John! You around?”

“Back here!” A voice echoed from within. The door creaked open to reveal John perched on a ladder, leaning over a tall, round water tank. Behind him loomed several even taller cylindrical tanks each with a different warning symbol. The center tank had a faded logo that read GLOBOGEN. The room had the glint of a brewery's stainless steel, but the air hung thick with the sharp, earthy smell of wet soil.

“What’s in the tanks?” Katie called out, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

John descended the ladder, wiping his hands on his overalls. “Scallops are in this one. Welcome to our humble mollusk hut.”

“Only scallops? Oysters too, I hope?”

“But of course! Only scallops in this tank but if you come this way.”

He led her to another tank, its walls teeming with live oysters. John pulled on a thick, black rubber glove and yanked a glistening oyster free.

Katie's eyes widened. “Whoa…” The oyster was easily the size of a salad plate, a behemoth yet only average among its brethren.

“These giants are primarily for oyster meat and mother-of-pearl processing,” John explained, gently returning it to the water. He gestured toward another tank, this one filled with smaller oysters. “And these beauties are our specialty. We've bred them to be perfectly cupped for serving on the half shell.”

“You can breed a shell shape?” Katie asked, genuinely surprised. “How does that even work?”

Trade secret,” John chuckled. “There's very little we can't do here. So, clearly you're not just here for Tom's tour. What can we help you with?”

“Oh, right! I need a small order for a private charter yacht.”

John smiled. “Yep, we handle those kinds of requests all the time. We have a few mega-yacht clients, private chefs and the like.”

“Okay, I need just enough shellfish for a welcome buffet. The party is small - just a handful of women,” Katie said. “Some of those oysters, a few shrimp, crab legs… um… what else would be good? Maybe some sashimi?”

John's smile faltered. “Oh… I was expecting a custom request.” He sounded disappointed. “Well, Tom will get you sorted out.”

John's sudden shift in demeanor struck Katie as odd. She just needed a few simple things. It almost sounded like John wanted her to order clams molded into the shape of the ship. Still, she was getting what she needed.

Tom grabbed a few boxes and packed them with ice. Then he added a few pounds of oysters, perfectly shaped to fit comfortably in the hand, a pound or two of simply massive shrimp, and two large rock crabs. Lastly, to Katie's surprise, Tom tossed in a gorgeous Caribbean squid and a decent-sized yellowfin tuna.

“That ought to do ya,” Tom grinned. “Here, let's get these boxes rung up.” Tom rolled the cart back to the building they'd started in. Once inside he stopped in front of a strange, arch-shaped machine. “Safety first!”

“What’s that?”

“A sterilizer. Kills anything that might be….. Harmful, it's just a precaution.” Tom flipped the machine on. A bright purple light flickered, followed by a strange whirling noise. “Hmmm, that doesn't sound right…” The noise intensified. “Let me try that again.” Tom kicked the side of the device. The whirling noise only grew louder. 

“Okay, okay!” Tom quickly turned it off. “Ugh, I'm going to need John to look at this.”

"No, it's fine. I'll just wash them well; I really do need to get back," Katie replied.

Tom looked at Katie, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Look, I don't know… Just wait a moment." And with that, Tom hurried off.

Katie glanced at her watch. Time was slipping away, and she needed to leave. A voice startled her.

"Hey, if you're done, I've got the invoice for you." A teenage boy stood beside her.

Katie maneuvered the cart around the machine. "What's the cost?"

"$2,500. How do you want to pay?" he asked, eyes glued to his phone.

Katie was flabbergasted but handed him the company card. "Here, just use this," she said, already starting to load boxes into the back of her car.

She saw John and Tom return. John flipped a switch, and the machine hummed to life, smooth and quiet. No strange sounds. They stared at the machine, a mixture of relief and anticipation on their faces, as the boy came back out of the office, still absorbed in his phone. "Here you go."

"Thanks!" Katie called out, starting her car.

"Hey, did you run those through the sterilizer?" John asked the boy.

"Mmm-hnnn," the teenager mumbled dismissively.

John stepped in front of him. "Hey, look at me. Every order has to go through that machine. Got it?"

"Yeah, Dad, I know. Get off my case." The boy retreated back into the office.

“Thank you!” Katie waved as she backed the car out and drove off.

Both men waved back in return. Then turning back to face Tom, John ran his fingers through his hair. "Tom, we need a better system to neutralize the growth augmentation serums before the fish go out. These machines aren't reliable enough."

"Should be fine as long as it's cooked out or washed off… right?" Tom said, uncertainty lacing his voice.

"Washing doesn't guarantee it, and I don't want to risk it that way. We're going to need to figure out a UV tank or something."

"The water treatment facility has a UV system. I bet it's similar," Tom suggested.

John sighed. "Okay, let's give them a call and ask. I don't even want to think about what might happen if someone ate shrimp with active serum."

Katie’s fingers flew across her phone. "Hey, got the fish! On my way to the dock. Can you help me unload and prep before the party arrives?" she texted Captain Heather.

The reply was almost instant. "Sure. Dan just finished checking the engine. He’s out for this run, so won’t be joining us."

Katie frowned slightly. "So just us?" she typed, then hesitated before sending the message.

"Us and the three women who booked. All-girls cruise!" Heather’s reply chirped through her phone.

A smile tugged at Katie's lips. An all-girls cruise? This sounded like fun. A welcome change from the last bachelor party charter.