Page 12 - Nutshell 1

Horatio was emphatic. “Now, don’t tell me a supertanker ran
aground in Marina del Rey. I’m not interested. I’m through working for
the petroleum industry: do you know what kind of thanks we bacteria get
for cleaning up their little messes?”
Bloom recognized a rhetorical question, and remained silent. Horatio
was slow to anger, but a sensitive topic had been broached.
“I’ll tell you,” ranted the indigo bacterium. “They are turning us into
oil! That’s just too much to bear! Eating oil? Not the tastiest meal, but we
can suck it up for the man. And now they want to make us into what we
were forced to eat! No, I won’t lead my team into another big slick for
those industrialists!”
“It’s not that.”
Horatio was brought up short. “No? Then what is it?”
“The red tide.”
The elder alga wobbled in mirth. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,
Algie. That’s just a seasonal blight on the seascape. Has someone been
kidding you?”
“No, I tell you: this time it’s different.” Bloom was adamant.
“They’re coming fast: a fleet a hundred times larger than any we’ve ever
seen. Something out there is making them multiply like crazy. Maybe a
pollutant. Maybe warmer water. I don’t know: I don’t have enough brain
cells to think in a straight line. But if they reach the coast it will be
disaster for all of us. They’ll suck all the oxygen right out of the water!”

Horatio stirred nervously. His cohort was beginning to take notice of
the disturbance in their idyllic existence and was drifting closer.
“Well, even so, they are a disorganized rabble. As soon as they hit
some cross-currents near land they’ll break up and disperse. There are
some treacherous waters along California.”
Algie did not budge. “I wish you were right. But they have a new
leader, and she has whipped them into shape.”
“Who’s that?”
“Rhoda Fighter.”