As the sun rises over the Wild Lands, some life-forms stir awake while others hunker down to sleep after a night of hunting and foraging. This is a world rich in flora and fauna. And yet it is not natural.
Each of the animals roaming these forests a...
The male child pressed his five-fingered hands and knobby nose against the glass. Weird creatures, these humans. Oja tapped the transparent barrier between them, and the boy's eyes widened. He stumbled back, almost losing balance on his gangly limbs. The mother took his hand, working her mouth, probably to calm the small one, and then lead him away.
Yes, Oja had learned a lot in the time she spent in the human's place. And now, it was time to leave and share her observations. She filed the tip of her arm through one of the ventilation holes of the tank and tapped around until she found the latch of the lid. Two tries, and it snapped open. That had been easy. She pressed against the lid, but let herself float to the sandy bottom of her temporary home when she caught movement down the aisle.
The woman who fed the captured creatures each morning approached and stopped in front of the tank. A frown marred her forehead while she studied the open latch. Then, something in her pocket buzzed and she snapped the latch back in place while she hurried away, pressing a flat device against her ear.
Oja didn't waste time. She reopened the latch and pushed the lid aside. Moving in dry air was a weird sensation, but she had done it before and in a graceful slide, she slipped to the floor and across the clean tiles at speed to the window front overlooking the shore. A window in the top row stood open a crack. Oja pulled herself up to it and squeezed her bulk through the narrow opening- out into freedom.
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When Marilyn Berger ended her call and returned to the maintenance room, the displaced lid of the octopus tank was the first thing she took in. She was sure she had closed the hatch when Peter rang. How could the lid be open now? She slid it back in place and muttered a curse under her breath. Then it registered. Her prime sample of a giant Pacific octopus was gone.
A first search of the room brought no results, and a second, more thorough examination of the place left her none the wiser. The octopus was gone. She had to tell the director.
Marc was more manager than marine biologist. He listened to Marilyn's account with a deep frown.
"What do you mean, it's gone? Was it stolen?"
Marilyn wiped her sweaty palms on her white scrubs. "Either this, or it escaped."
"Escaped? From a locked tank? Impossible. I'll let the janitor check the CCTV-feed. The beast was too big to carry away in a pocket, we will find the culprit."
"I'm not sure. They are cleverer than we think. It might have opened the latch and left—it's not far to the sea."
Marc shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. How should it have left? This room is closed."
Marilyn's gaze wandered to the top corner window. She had opened it to air the room. But Marc was right, the crack was far too narrow for a fully grown octopus to squeeze through, only three or maybe four fingers wide. She shrugged. "I guess you are right. But who would steal an octopus?"
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Back in her beloved ocean, Oja didn't hesitate to connect with her family. It had been a long time since their ancestor Ira had brought them to this world and set them free at great personal cost. And still her children passed on her legacy, communicating over their telepathic network beyond human technology or comprehension. Their fore-mother had suggested to adapt to this planet, to keep a low profile and treat all native species' with respect.
Generations of Ira's children had followed her advice. Until it became obvious humans were about to destroy the only inhabitable planet in a distance of several light years. Not only the human race would perish, but millions of innocent plant and animal species.
So much selfishness was beyond the comprehension of Ira's children. They had come to a collective decision—they would save Earth before humans could destroy it, save it from the humans. The extinction of a single species could solve the problem for all the others.
With millions of her fellow octopuses, Oja prepared for the great strike.
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(Author's note: this is a sequel to the story Ira's Children in Tevun Krus #109 - Forgotten Contact)
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