Ever since JAWS, each summer seems to have its own underwater thriller; this year’s beach-ready entry is NATURAL SELECTION, a debut for Dave Freedman.

His story deserves points from the start for not being about sharks. In Freedman’s book, sharks are breakfast (as are bears) for his creature of choice: manta rays which have mutated and adapted not only the ability to fly and hover, but to grow big, breathe air and kill. Flying fish capable of biting off people’s heads. I’ve never read that before.

This discovery is made by a team of manta ray researchers after reports of sightings, initially derided for smacking of the stuff of urban legends. But when physical evidence proves the new species’ existence very real – an AIDS-like virus is considered the trigger for the mutation – the scientists have to rush to save the oceans and its shores from turning blood red. You get one guess as to whether they succeed.

NATURAL SELECTION itself succeeds in the action sequences, right in the heat of the hunt, and especially the scenes of attack. (One wishes they would have kicked in sooner; all the upfront talk of decreasing plankton levels isn’t exactly a page-turner.) Because of this, you kind of root for the fish. Where the book fails is giving us compelling characters; in particular, the lead character of Jason is almost a non-entity – a brainy but socially inept type who’s all business, quiet and wishy-washy. This in turn makes the romance angle between him and the far livelier Lisa crack under pressure; their mutual attraction is not only unbelievable, but laughable. Witness this seduction scene:

He paused, glancing into the bedroom. Then he noticed what Lisa was wearing. One sexy outfit. Tight low-rider jeans with a black sequined rock-concert T-shirt. “Lisa, my … hard drive hasn’t run in a very long time.” She cleared her throat, reddening slightly. “Neither has mine. And just so there are no misunderstandings, I’m not just looking for … a quick reboot.”

But NATURAL SELECTION is focused on science, not sex. The Ivy League-educated Freedman is obviously a smart guy, with the proof being on the page in passages dealing with the ins and outs of manta rays and the ecosystem of the deep. But the text is missing the sheer zing of a Peter Benchley, a Michael Crichton, a Steve Alten – all of whom the work apes. For it to be as fun as those, it would require some trimming. At half the length, it’d be double the book; as it is now, it’s simply decent. –Rod Lott

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