The shuttle was packed – Andy Miller, Jay Hayes, Dan Chang, Brad Moreno, Deb Haddon, Diana Jones, Frank Todd and Rex Ryan. Travis was copiloting, with Frank in the copilot’s chair.
“Coming up on Amity,” Travis reported, as they touched down, “Meridia continent.” The southern continent was soggy and marshy – the perfect habitat for procul and malostrea, apparently.
“All right,” Jay commanded, “here’s what we’ll do. Dan, you and Brad will cover Diana and Andy as they work on capturing a couple of the malostrea. The rest of us’ll hunt a procul. Travis will stay here, of course.”
“Of course,” Travis confirmed.
“Keep the lines of communication open,” Jay commanded, “we don’t know what we’re dealing with out there. When we hunt, we will make one last attempt to communicate. Then all bets are off. We’ll see if we can bring a procul down with just stun first, and then switch to the kill setting if that’s not effective. Any questions?”
“What should we do if we’re bitten by one of the malostrea, sir?” asked Deb.
“Try not to let that happen. But if it does, get an emergency beam-out,” Jay advised, “So nobody wanders off alone. I don’t care how interesting something is. We stick together ‘cause I get the feeling that if anyone’s bitten, they might go downhill really fast. We know the procul do, and I estimate that one of them is a good four times the size and mass of a grown man.”
“We’ll beam the malostrea cages up separately,” Andy clarified, “Tucker and Crossman have been instructed to only handle them with steel mesh gloves on.” He indicated a pair of gloves that Diana was donning. They looked a little like chain mail.
“They’ll bring them to Sick Bay,” Diana explained, “and then we’ll be able to study them in a controlled environment. Ha, when I think of bad oysters, I tend to think of stomach upset, and not stuff like this.”
“Maybe they’re just trying to get revenge,” Rex speculated.
=/=
Diana and Andy rummaged around near the holes and stuck a tube down as a probe as Dan and Brad looked on. “Here, little oyster, here, little oyster!” she called.
“Please, it’s malostrea,” Andy corrected her, smiling.
“Okay, so, here, little malostrea,” she called.
=/=
Jay led the way and was followed by Deb, then Rex and Frank. Their boots squished in the soggy ground as they jogged. “There,” Deb finally pointed. It wasn’t just one procul. It was a whole herd of them.
“Okay,” Jay cautioned, “let’s move in nice and slow. No sudden movements. Two will hang back, uh, Rex and Frank. Deb, you and I will circle over to the left and hold out the UTs. Let’s see if we can get anything to register, even if it’s garbled.”
She nodded. They approached the herd cautiously and held out their universal translators. “C’mon,” she coaxed, “can’t you big guys talk?”
The beasts shuffled around, mostly ignoring them although one did turn a bit. There were a few smaller ones. Were they females? Juveniles? It was difficult to say. Jay stamped his foot closer, and some of the ground splashed up on a procul’s foot. That got its attention. It turned a little, and reared up on a few of its legs. They could clearly see a pair of eye spots on what could only be described as its abdomen.
“Is that a hostile act?” asked Deb.
“Me you’re asking? I have no idea. Just stay calm. Let’s see if we can get it to make some sort of a noise or something.”
The beast got back on all fourteen of its legs and lumbered away, backwards., changing colors as it went. “I suppose we weren’t interesting enough,” opined Deb.
“Ha!” Jay called out, as he rushed at the herd, to see if he could provoke another reaction, but there was none. Some of the herd moved backwards a little, but otherwise they did nothing and made no sounds.
Then the one that had reared up rubbed a couple of its legs together. This produced a bit of a high-pitched whining sound, almost like a pennywhistle. Most of the rest of the herd followed as that one – perhaps it was the leader? – It continued retreating backwards.
There was one that stayed behind. It did not make any threatening moves, and seemed to be having a little trouble moving under its own steam.
“Do you see what I see, sir?” Deb asked.
“I do,” Jay confirmed, “I think that one’s old or injured. That’ll be our target. Let’s try one last chance for communications.” He spoke into the universal translator. “We are here to try to make contact with you. We don’t want to cause you any pain. We are humans. I’m a male and my companion is a female.”
Deb spoke into her own universal translator. “Your herd is safe. Don’t worry about that. We want to live here but we will stay off this continent if you want us to.”
They waited, and there was no response. They looked at each other. “It’s like trying to talk to a cow,” Deb quipped.
“Or a deer or something. Ready to shoot?”
“Sure. You can go first, if you want to.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He set his phase rifle on stun and fired at the procul’s huge misshapen torso. It fell but squirmed a little. There was the sound of scrabbling underfoot.
“I think we’ve got evil oysters,” Deb reported.
“We can’t let them poison it. Shoot it again,” he commanded.
She fired. As soon as the beast was hit, it died, and the scrabbling sounds stopped. “I guess our little pals only want the meat if they can make the kill themselves.”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” he stated. “Here, help me with it.”
Frank and Rex came over. “Need help?” asked Frank.
“Sure, this thing looks like it weighs a good fraction of a ton,” she told them.
They slung the big beast over their shoulders and brought it back to the shuttle. Travis came out to greet them. “I don’t know if it’ll fit in here,” he guessed.
“Maybe not,” Jay then clicked open his communicator. “Hayes to Tucker.”
“Go ahead,” came Tripp’s voice.
“Can you beam up a dead procul?”
“Uh, sure. Set it down and stand back.”
The big beast dematerialized quickly. Rex looked over his uniform right after it was gone. “I don’t even have any blood on me.”
“Me neither,” Frank reported.
“Maybe they don’t have anything we’d think of as blood,” Travis speculated.
=/=
Diana and Andy were having worse luck. “Think they know we’re trying to catch ‘em?” she asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Maybe they only come out if the dinner bell is rung,” Brad speculated.
“Or if one of their own is threatened,” Dan guessed. He stuck his phase rifle into a nearby hole. “Don’t worry; it’s on stun,” he explained. He fired one round.
That got their attention. They came out in droves, little shells clapping and clamoring.
“Now you’ve made ‘em mad,” Diana stated.
She and Andy held a cage open and Brad managed to herd one of the malostrea into it. They shut the door and latched it quickly. Then Dan pushed one along with his boot. It tried to turn and bite him, but he kept shoving it along and into a cage. Once it was inside, Andy shut the door and latched it.
“We better go,” Brad pointed, “Look.”
There were at least a hundred more malostrea running toward them. They couldn’t move that quickly, but they were clapping their shells and making a racket. The numbers made it look almost like an insect infestation, except they were the size of large grapefruits. The four of them started to run back to the shuttle. The captured malostrea clapped and rushed against the sides of their cages, perhaps trying to break them apart.
Once they were close to the shuttle, they put the cages down. “Tucker!” Jay yelled into his communicator, “Beam up the cages!”
“Got ‘em,” came Tucker’s voice.
They ran into the shuttle and Travis took off as they heard clapping and thumping on the sides of the shuttle. The malostrea were mad.
=/=
In the transporter area, Jennifer and Tripp stayed away from the cages, which tumbled and rocked a little as the malostrea continued to clap and bump the sides. “Those are some angry oysters.” She put on steel mesh gloves.
Tripp clicked on the wall communicator. “Tucker to Phlox.”
“Yes, Commander?”
“We got two of ‘em. They are royally PO’d.”
“I’ll put the two cages inside a larger one I have. Phlox out.”
Jennifer and Tripp proceeded to Sick Bay to deposit the angry mollusk-like creatures.
=/=
Less than an hour later, the malostrea cages were secured and the procul carcass was in Andy’s Bio Lab. The shuttle had docked and he was waiting to begin dissection. “We’ll observe all biohazard protocols,” he told Diana as she looked on.
“Right. Are we sure it’s dead?”
“Hayes said he figured it was once the malostrea lost interest. Ready to make an incision?”
“Sure,” she replied, “Now, let’s see what makes you tick, Miss Procul.”
“Miss?”
“Well, I didn’t want to assume anything.” She began to cut into the big beast’s soft, malleable torso.
=/=
Now or never, thought Jonathan as he sat in the captain’s chair. “I’d like the intercom, please, Hoshi.”
“Aye, sir,” she clicked a few switches, “all set.”
“All hands, this is the captain. I’d like to address a few recent incidents. Maybe now isn’t the best time to deal with this, but deal we must. Better to get them out of the way now, I figure.”
He cleared his throat a little. “First, the departure of the Xindi. I, well, I can’t tell you that it’s a uniformly good thing or a uniformly bad thing. Truth is, no one really knows right now. But I can tell you for sure that, at least from my end of things, it feels a bit strange. But I’ve thought about it a lot, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we didn’t do anything wrong, and neither did the Xindi sloth except, I suppose, for their not informing their fellow species of their trying to work with us. I do hope that was not a fatal error on their parts. Those Insectoid and Reptilian ships definitely didn’t hesitate to fire on their own allies. I shudder to think what may happen at their Ruling Council. I do hope that reason will prevail.”
He shifted in his seat. “I can’t say whether they were true friends to us or not, but they may have given their lives in order to help us, and to give us a chance on Amity, and on Paradise. I hope that that sacrifice, if it did indeed occur, was not in vain. And I also hope that we don’t lose our spirit – our spirit of extending a hand of friendship first, and at least making an attempt. We named the temperate planet Amity for a reason. Let’s try to live up to that ideal.”
He blinked a bit. “This means friendship to others, and friendship within. It means treating one another better. I hope that we can all begin to do that, to get along better. I have gotten a few requests to change roommates, and I recognize that conditions aren’t necessarily ideal for all. I’ll do my best to be accommodating to as many people as possible. But you need to meet me halfway, and you need to meet each other halfway and, perhaps, even more than that. You need to work and pull together, because without the Xindi to help us, we are going to be harvesting that wheat and those oranges and everything else. We need to work together, in every way.”
He sighed a little. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, and no one does, of course. But today, right now, I hope you will all join me in pledging to do our best to be better friends to all, and work together better, and without reservation. Let’s do our best to live up to our ideals. Thank you.”
=/=
“Are we in agreement?” Andy asked as he took off his biohazard gear.
“We are,” Diana stated, “The big fellow – er, girl, er, fellow-girl – isn’t poisonous.”
“Then I guess it’s time to send him, uh, her, uh it over to the kitchen,” he decided. “I’ll call Hayes, ask him about its behavior and then have him haul a part of the carcass over to the galley.”
=/=
Jay slung much of the beast’s torso over his shoulders and brought it to the kitchen. He also had one of the legs with him. “Where do you want this?” he asked Lili.
“Oh, uh, here,” she cleared the counter a bit. “Is that all that’s left?”
“They’re still looking at the rest of it but they said they could spare these parts,” he put them down.
“Huh, well, let’s see how it tastes,” she got out a paring knife. She cut off a sliver and sniffed it.
“Aren’t you going to cook that?”
“Later,” she explained, “first, let’s see if it’s okay tartare style. Or, huh, we could call it carpaccio.” She chewed on the piece a bit. “Funky.” She began to saw off another small piece.
“What’s it –?” he asked, but she didn’t let him finish his sentence and, instead, stuffed the piece into his slightly opened mouth.
“Tell me what you think that tastes like,” she watched him for a reaction.
He was a bit surprised and stepped back slightly. “Hmm,” he swallowed, “it’s like, uh, like deli.”
“Exactly! It’s kinda like pastrami. And, um, I’m sorry I whacked you in the mouth.”
“No blood,” he reported, “But next time warn me, okay?”
“Sure,” she smiled, “Do you know what the parts are?”
“No idea,” Jay admitted, “Miller told me they saw eye spots but I don’t think they gave me that part to give to you. It doesn’t seem to have anything we’d call blood. It’s more like, I dunno.”
“It’s gelatinous. I wonder if that’s normal or if it’s coagulated in death or something. And no bones whatsoever, eh?”
“No, it’s like vertebrae didn’t develop at all on Amity.”
“Maybe not,” Lili mused, “I’ll try a few things, see if I can boil it and stuff, see what happens when it’s fried, that sort of thing. Wanna stick around for the experiments? I promise I won’t just slam them into your mouth.”
He smiled and laughed slightly. “That’s okay. You didn’t break any teeth. I gotta go work out. See ya.” He left.
She was alone in the kitchen, and she started up a small pot of water and sliced a few pieces off and threw them in there, and set a timer for three minutes. She then sat down on one of the kitchen stools and murmured absently, “I wish you liked girls, Jay Hayes.”
=/=
Biology Lab log, November twenty-eighth, 2037
The procul is almost like a big octopus, except it’s got fourteen legs, instead of only eight. And its eyes aren’t as well-developed as on an Earth octopus. Instead, it only has eye spots, which are a lot more like a more primitive life form, like a flatworm.
And the eye spots are underneath, or at least what we think of as the undercarriage of the beast. But I was able to articulate the limbs around in all sorts of ways. When you have no bones to break, you can go backwards, forwards, up and down without any worries. Thick rings of muscle keep the legs rigid enough that the beast can stand and walk. But it doesn’t seem to move that quickly. Maybe it can’t, at least not on land.
It’s got no organized circulatory system to speak of. The beast is in possession of one big ovary-type organ and one smaller spermatophore-creating organ. I am guessing that it lays eggs and deposits a spermatophore or two or twenty nearby, and in water. Observation of the creature’s habits would confirm this.
According to Major Hayes, the herd seemed to have a leader, and the leader made a sound with a pair of its legs. Whether this was a primitive method of communication is tough to say, although that seems to be the most likely explanation for that behavior. Since the creatures are probably all hermaphrodites, I can’t tell why one creature becomes leader over any of the others. Hayes reports that the so-called leader didn’t appear to be appreciably larger than the others.
I am also mindful of the fact that this specimen was moving slowly and may have been of what, for the procul, is an advanced age. If I had to guess, I’d say it was less than ten years old. But again, more observation will be necessary. This species could be studied for decades, I feel.
The brain is located just above the sex organs and does not appear to be advanced enough to allow for sentience. Earth octopuses are rather intelligent creatures, but the procul doesn’t seem to be. I would guess that the intelligence level of a procul is closer to that of a cichlid or other predominantly herbivorous fish.
Further study is needed, including observing these beasts in their natural habitat. I suspect that procul swim better than they walk, and that may account for the eye spots being where they are on the body. I will make every effort to return to the planet’s surface in order to make more detailed observations. We will also attempt to set up a camera although we are mindful of the fact that the beasts may knock it over.
=/=
Andrew Miller’s Personal log, November twenty-eighth, 2037
The procul has gotta be the weirdest thing I’ve seen so far. I bet it can really zoom underwater. I’d love to see that.
And what’s even nuttier is that we had it for dinner tonight! Chef and Lili said the menu had changed and we were having deli. They had all sorts of stuff out for fixings, like sour pickles and cole slaw. And I had it – they didn’t tell anybody what it was, but since I’d sent the stuff over I figured that was it. It was good, like lean pastrami. Weird.
Reminded me a little of going to a kosher deli with my grandma when I was a kid. Shelby, she didn’t have those experiences growing up. But I didn’t have her experiences, either. That’s okay.
=/=
Phlox’s Personal log, November twenty-eighth, 2037
The malostrea are rather interesting specimens. Crewman Miller and Crewman Jones and I will be working with them but I can already report that they are a handful. They did not appear to wish to eat the raw hamburger that I threw into their cages. They were more amenable to eating a bit of the deceased procul meat but it did not appear to be a preference of theirs. They were considerably happier with two live tribbles I had around. Fortunately, they envenom their prey rather quickly and, apparently, somewhat painlessly, or at least it appears that way. For once the tribbles were poisoned, they were torn apart.
The malostrea are in separate cages but appear to be communicating or at least making what may be encouraging or sympathetic noises to each other. I hesitate to anthropomorphize their behaviors but that does appear to be the explanation. I don’t believe they are sentient enough for true, organized communication, but I am open to being convinced if I am proven wrong.
=/=
Jay Hayes’s Personal log, November twenty-eighth, 2037
What a day. I haven’t gone on a hunt in years. Good to know I’ve still got hunting chops. The critter was weird; it was almost no challenge whatsoever. It’s gotta be almost like deer the first time they ever saw or heard percussion weapons. I bet the next time it won’t be so easy.
And then – even weirder – I brought most of the remains over to the kitchen, and the chef’s assistant shoved a piece of raw procul in my mouth. And dammit, I am thinking about the food and stuff like that, I mean, I’m supposed to be, and suddenly, dammit, I am totally aroused. I didn’t want her to see, I mean, it’s not like she was trying anything, she was just having me taste this stuff. Nothing else. It couldn’t’ve been, could it?
=/=
Charlotte Lilienne O’Day’s Personal log, November twenty-eighth, 2037
I’m so wicked.
I should really stop that. It was just silly, but Major Hayes and I were in the kitchen and I was cutting up the procul. And instead of asking him if he wanted any, I ended up just shoving a piece of it into his mouth.
I gotta say, it made me think of other things. Oh, other things. I miss those other things. I love sex and love and romance and all of that.
I have my favorites, and he is one of them, but I know it’s impossible. He wouldn’t be interested in me. Hell, he wouldn’t be interested in anything in a skirt. I would like him to be happy, though. He really should come out. He’d be a much happier person, I think.