Tentacles: An Anthology

by Haley Whitehall

  “There’s only one way,” he said. “Strip.”

  If her eyebrows could have risen higher, they would have hit the sky. “Excuse me?”

  “You want to talk to them?”

  She nodded.

  “The only way they communicate is through touching.” His finger slid down her shoulder – a move reminiscent of long ago that left a slow burn of sensual memories behind – and she repressed the urge to flinch. “Skin to tentacle touching.”

  Her mouth fell open. “But … you mean …”

  “Yes, they’ll sting you.” He said it matter-of-factly, as though it made perfect sense.

  She pushed at his chest, shoving him back on his heels. “You want me to strip, go down there, and take a swim with the creatures that just killed a colonist? Are you fucking nuts?”

  Kasan shook his head. “It’s the only way.”

  “And I suppose you’ve done it.”

  “Not recently. But, yes. Of course. We all have. You’ll have to trust them if you want the information. You have no choice.”

  Zaural bit her lip as she turned away to gaze at the creatures once more.

  “What’s the matter?” Kasan’s hushed voice coiled around her neck like a snake. “You scared of some rebel terrorist sea creature?”

  “Captain…” Arty’s hiss of a warning issued from the cockpit. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, you do,” Kasan whispered.

  She hated to admit it, but Kas was right. Angry fingers tore at her jumpsuit and boots.

  “Captain. Wait. You sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes. Arty, give me fifteen minutes before you pull me out. And stick to mission protocol if

  … something happens.” She glanced sideways at Kas. “Okay, what do I do?”

  His gaze raked down her body like a man’s, not like an officer’s. She hadn’t been looked at that way in years. Her skin heated. “Get in, and wait for one to surface.”

  “Then what?” Damn but she was afraid to ask.

  “Do what comes naturally.” He shoved.

  She glared at him as she fell backwards into the water. It helped keep the fear at bay.

  He grinned as if he hadn’t heard a joke this good in a very, very long time.

  As soon as she got out, she would kill him.

  ..................

  Thousands of arms. Stings as sharp as blunt needles. Pain seeped into every pore.

  Half-conscious she struggled, fighting with the creatures and with her partially numbed limbs. Some part of her mind told her the stings were to be expected, but adrenaline spiked anyway. Her limbs thrashed awkwardly, desperate for traction. Kicking, twisting against the tentacles, she opened her mouth to scream.

  A second later her body went rigid. One sting too many? Was this what it felt like to be dead?

  And then she knew.

  ..................

  Dreams bubbled behind her eyes. Rising to the surface. Effervescent, dark patterns beyond thought. Beyond consciousness. Far, far deeper than words. They rushed at her at mind-speed as her skin registered the rawness of first touch. In that second, something changed in her. A piece of her became more real than the others. It solidified, turning into a long black tentacle attached to her eye socket.

  A scream rushed out of her mouth as she bolted awake in the ship’s infirmary.

  “Welcome back,” Kasan whispered. His warm fingertip drew a circle on the back of her

  hand.

  Zaural bit her lip but didn’t jerk her hand away. For a few seconds, she laid back to catch her breath, and oddly, enjoyed the sensation of his caress. But one glance at his smile infuriated her.

  “You could have told me.” Asshole.

  “That they only communicate in a dream-like state?” He leaned closer. “Well, that would have ruined the experience, wouldn’t it?”

  Bits and pieces came floating back, like lost sailors clinging to soggy logs. They danced around in the hazy flotsam until they began to form a more cohesive picture. Her heart sank. She hadn’t gotten the answers she’d come here for. If anything, what she’d learned supported … Kas wasn’t going to like the news. She pushed herself up with her elbows.

  “So, what did they show you?” Kas’s face looked earnest, concerned.

  “They showed me something about your agricultural practices and destruction of their

  environment.”

  Kas nodded. “And what else?”

  She hadn’t expected him to accept that so easily. Stiff, she craned her neck this way and that and it creaked. “Reproduction problems, I think.”

  Kas nodded again and sat down on the edge of her bed with a sigh. “Others have seen the same thing. Not me, it’s been too long for me, but the more recent adaptees.”

  “But I don’t understand how any of this relates to the murder.” She rubbed her aching forehead wishing for more, but getting less clarity with each passing second.

  “It’s simple, really. We live here. We grow food here. We endanger their water supply with our use of,” he raised an accusatory eyebrow, “government-supplied fertilizer.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t explain the reproduction issues.”

  Kas’s face sobered. “We’ve only just figured that out. Doc thinks the stings – the poison they deposit – are based on sexual hormones.” Her eyes widened, and he quickly put a hand on his chest. “Not geared for us, for them.”

  She blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been smothering. “Okay. So their stings, which you need to survive, are messing with their reproduction, and your agricultural practices are interfering with their water PH levels. That’s it then. That decides our plan of action. We’ll prepare to evacuate the colony.”

  Kas bolted off the bed like lightening hit his ass. “No. You can’t…”

  “It’s obvious, Kas, that your presence here is having a negative affect on the indigenous population. Interplanetary Code Nine Point One states—”

  “Oh save your breath. Quit treating us like we’re your ticket to advancement.”

  She grimaced.

  “You know what happens when they shuffle people like us around. You know what will happen to us at the next stop down the planetary line. It’ll be worse, much worse. Besides, you can surely find a way to make the venom for us. That way, the colony will be saved.”

  “But not in time! Kas—”

  “We here now, and we can’t leave, Zaural. We won’t.”

  “Oh yes we will!”

  She and Kas’s heads swiveled in unison to the source of the gruff voice.

  “We don’t belong here, and it’s damn well time we left.”

  Beside her, Kas stiffened. Two bulls in a prize fight circled her bed. “Uh, excuse me, but who are you?”

  “Imet,” Kas hissed. “The one who sent the distress call.”

  “Damn straight I did,” Imet huffed, jabbing a finger at Kas. “’Cause you wouldn’t do it. You filthy piece of shit. You mouth off like you care about all these causes, but when it comes down to it, you only care about your own ass.” He jabbed the finger towards the outside while looking at Zaural. “These here creatures are dying because of us, and he’s not willing to do anything about it.”

  “Dying?” Kas leaned over the bed, his face stern. “Are you sure about that? Do we have any data? How do we know they aren’t lying to us just to jerk us around?”

  “You fucking idiot. They’ve already killed Matako. Isn’t that proof enough?” Imet launched himself over her legs and grasped the lapel of Kas’s shirt. Both men landed on the bed, hands clawing to get the best grip on the other. Both wriggled like snakes on a hot glass plate. Heavy snakes.

  “Hey!” No response. “Hey!” She kicked out, but found herself pinned under both of them.

  “Guard!”

  Two of her own rushed in and hauled both men off her. They stood at opposite sides of the bed, glowing red and panting. The hate in their eyes said they’d tear each
other apart given the first opportunity. Not much she could do about that. Maybe she’d not bother to stop that fight.

  “Who let you two in here anyway?” she grumbled. “The first thing I’m going to do is—” she sat up farther, and the sheet fell away, exposing her breast. Shit. Crap. Naked. Still naked. She glanced at the two men hovering over her bed – still glaring at each other — and then at the officers who glared at the men. Not one of them had even noticed her faux pas. For some reason, that made her madder. She pulled the sheet back up and pointed at the door. “Out! Everybody out!”

  Four bodies filed out, leaving enough space in the room to breathe. Tired, she flung the sheet aside and scooted out of bed. A fresh uniform lay on the side table. She snatched it and shoved her legs in the…

  Welts. Red and shiny. Lots of them. All over. She let the fabric drop to the floor as her trembling fingers explored the new raised bumps trailing up her calves, over her thighs, up her belly, and finally to just below her breasts. What had the report said? A certain amount of the venom had to be delivered before the person was effectively protected from the particle shower?

  From the looks of things, she’d received a large enough dose for sure. Too bad she wouldn’t be staying. Even if she had to blast this damn rock to smithereens.

  ..................

  Admiral Vorle’s slack jaw filled the bridge’s main screen. “Captain, your report says you are recommending immediate evacuation, is that correct?”

  She straightened. “Yes, sir. Based on my …” His image flickered out. “Fronson? Where’d he go?”

  “Just a sec. I’ll get him back. We’re getting some kind of interference.”

  Zaural shook her head a little and assumed the waiting-for-the-damn-screen-to-come-back-on position. Finally it flickered to life. “Sir, as I was saying, I am recommending evacuating the entire colony, as was our original Plan B. If you look at your specs…” It flickered out again.

  “Sorry,” Fronson called out. “It’s like someone is trying to block our channel.”

  Yeah, she’d just bet.

  When Vorle came back on, his image had lost some weight. “… based on what, Captain?

  What evidence of this … agricultural interference do you have?”

  Her heels dug into the thin carpeted deck. “Uh, nothing yet, sir. But I was able to talk to the creatures … the Gramica that is, and they—”

  Vorle huffed. “It sounds from your report more like they talked to you.”

  She shifted from foot to foot. “Well, yes. But—”

  “Captain, I’d like to see some evidence presented that supports their position.”

  She frowned before she could catch herself. Damn but she’d cause herself trouble some day.

  Vorle’d seen it, of course. He held out a hand. “Look, I’m not saying you were drugged up and hallucinating or anything, so don’t get all bent out of shape. I’m just saying I would like to see some evidence, either way, before we haul these folks to another planet. We’re not a moving service, captain.”

  “Yes, sir. Understood.” She made the motion to Fronson to close the channel and sighed.

  Damn, that’s just what Kas had said. No evidence. No proof. T-minus twenty-eight and change

  … and counting. She needed proof now.

  Fronson swiveled in his chair. “Captain?”

  “Keep the evac plans moving. Enlist the help of whatever colonist sent us the distress signal and—”

  “Imet, sir.”

  “Yes, Imet. Enlist his help, but for God sake, don’t let him on my ship again.”

  Fronson’s lips sucked in. “Yes, sir.”

  “And get me some data from those damn Gramica. I need to know their sensitivities, I need a water contamination analysis, and I need,” she shuddered, not wanting to say the next words out loud with the stings still throbbing on her flesh, “their hormonal factors identified.”

  “Uh, sir.”

  She blew out a breath. Damn it had been a long trip. And was it warm in here? “Yes?”

  “It’s going to be kind of hard to do more than the water analysis without samples. The Gramica … well … they’re gone again.”

  “Where did they go?”

  Fronson shrugged. “They vanished right after your visit with them.”

  An uneasy feeling settled between her shoulder blades. “Get Arty. Get him on the line. I want to know if he can track them. Now.”

  But she knew that somehow, the Gramica would refuse to be found.

  ..................

  Five days later – T-minus twenty-three – Imet had a hundred colonists lined up outside the ship, sleeping in makeshift tents, ready to depart. These were the drum beaters. Imet’s hard-core recruits. The air around the ship began to stink with sweat and bodies and waste.

  That left about twenty-four-hundred (assumed) regulars still going about their daily business back at the colony. Zaural scrunched her nose as she made her way to the rover and mentally calculated the number of colonists she could fit in one hold. With any luck she could fit three hundred each in her ship’s eight holds, enough room for a short journey, but to where?

  Fronson had been over and over the planetary guidelines and in this area, only two or three planets that could support human life were available. Trouble was, all of them had indigenous species. She began to understand Kasan’s worry about starting over. There were no easy answers this far out in space. Especially for the cavalry.

  The rover bumped along uneven dry ground until it came to the vacant observatory where she’d first located Kasan. Seeing no one, she shucked her suit and dipped her toes through one of the openings. Every raised bump on her body begged for this, every hour of the day. For cool, fresh water. To immerse, to cleanse.

  Before she knew it, she’d crouched at the water’s edge and slipped in her legs, then her hips, and finally her torso. “Ahhh, this is so fucking what I needed.” She laid the back of her head against the plexi-glass and floated there. At last, the sensation of being on fire ebbed to a low-burning ember.

  Thoughts of Kasan pelted her, one after the other, as soon as she closed her eyes. Why him?

  Why now? And why was she the captain called here of all places? Not called by him, she reminded herself. By another crazy colonist who thought himself the pied piper.

  “It helps, doesn’t it?”

  Her body jerked at Kasan’s voice.

  He knelt at the next opening over. “It’s about time you got back into the water.”

  She sputtered and tread water. “What do you care?”

  Kasan’s mouth formed a dangerous, wicked smile. “Oh, I know how it is.” He trailed a finger through the water and watched the ripples before turning his gaze back to her. “If you don’t get into the water, you run a little too hot. You start to want things. Need things…”

  “Stop.” She meant it. She didn’t need his words enflaming the already hot interior of her body. The place urging her to take him inside her now, now, NOW. Denying those urges seemed a very good idea. Her reproductive hormones were certainly working just fine. She pushed her wet hair off her face.

  “They’ll find you, you know. They’ll come. They’re attracted to your scent now. It’s part of the process.”

  Seriously? She’d had a whole team working on locating the Gramica for the past five days –

  round the clock – and all she had to do to find them was go back into the water? Zaural was about to swear an ugly oath on his first born son when Kasan’s feet were suddenly jerked out from under him.

  He didn’t scream as the tentacles dragged him under. He didn’t look scared or even

  surprised. He wore that damn smile until his face disappeared.

  Something cold and slithery brushed her toe and she flew backwards out of the pool and stood; folding her arms around her, shaking, peering into the depths. Afraid of monsters. “Kas?

  Kas, are you down there?” She bent over the edge of the pond as far as she dared
. “Kas!”

  Only the silent water stared back.

  A gurgle worked its way up her windpipe as her stomach sank like a stone. Her comm. shook her back to reality.

  “Captain. I’ve located two of the Gramicas at your current position. Can you see them?

  Over.”

  With a calming breath she palmed her pistol. It should fire under water, she told herself. It should. “Fronson, send a med-team here on the double. Zaural out.”

  Kasan wasn’t her crew. Hell, he wasn’t even her lover anymore. He was just another

  convicted government terrorist. But she’d be damned if she’d let them kill him. She sucked in a deep breath and dove, feet-first.

  Down, down, down. Almost to the point of no return, she saw them. Glowing. Kas was … he was … it looked like he was being passed in between them like some kind of damn ball. Were they toying with them before they ate him? Good God! She readied her pistol and aimed.

  Just then, Kas’s eyes met hers. His smile faded as he shook his head. The word, “Nooooo!”

  filled her head, somehow. She heard it inside. Then he was swimming toward her, his long legs kicking back behind him.

  Startled, out of air, she struggled toward the surface. Hurry, her lungs cried. Hurry. She kicked harder, using her arms. An immense cloud – no, a Gramica – blocked her way, just before she broke the surface. Her lungs burned fire as she turned to swim around it to the next nearest hole. Her legs aching, her lungs screaming, she could not outmaneuver the tentacles. They wrapped around her and drew her in. Holding her back flat against the Gramica’s belly, but not stinging her.

  Then Kas’s face was before her. And his lips touched hers. His mind was saying something, over and over, that sounded like … breathe. She twisted desperately, but a gang of tentacles clambered over her skin, holding her down. Until she was spent. Until there was nowhere left she could move. And then something entered her.

  She gasped into Kas’s mouth and sucked in … air. Precious air.

  His lips laughed against hers as stars shot through her eyes. An incessant hum surrounded her, growing louder. Louder. It permeated everything. Every pore in her body. Every where.