Mandy and the Tentacle Monster (Urf Oomons #1)
Mandy and the Tentacle Monster: Chapter 1

I am being assaulted by the cutest, most precious little creatures I have ever beheld. There are twenty-three of them in all. All small and delicate with wispy manes of shiny fur, delicate, shell-shaped ears, flat, harmless teeth, and tiny little button noses. Their forms are charming too. They have naked skin in varying warm tones from a luminous pink to a rich smooth brown. Even their sex is obvious. Sexual characteristics that are always hidden and protected in other species are vulnerable and obvious in this one. I could see from across the room which ones are male because their genitalia just hang out in the open.

I wonder what sort of environment they evolved in that they have no natural defenses. Their vulnerability is charming, though. And the cutest thing about them is their digits. Soft and nimble with flimsy, blunted claws that do no damage at all as they seek to strike me and scratch me.

These ‘Urf Oomons” as Urshtech is calling them are fierce, brave little creatures too. No matter that I am much larger than them, they fight me with renewed determination every time I get within reach. I surely seem like a predator to this prey species. With fangs, long, clawed digits, not to mention my eight tentacle arms that I use to lift and subdue each wiggly little beast in turn, I must intemidate them. I should think that they would instinctually cower in fear then roll over in submission. But no, they are gnawing on me with their flat harmless teeth and striking out at me with diminutive, soft claws as I wrestle them one at a time into cryo-stasis pods.

I do not make a habit of dominating vulnerable prey-creatures. This is the first encounter I have ever had with any of the “pets” Urshtech trades in. When I arrived, I had only the intention of buying appliances. That is what I had negotiated for, nothing else. And I knew that something was wrong as soon as I exited my shuttlecraft to greet him.

He had an agitated, unhappy scent. And he was shedding. His fluffy blue overcoat seemed to be falling off his form at an alarming rate and the tufts of fur were floating all around, sticking to the floor and walls of the corridor we moved through and, distressingly, his fur had coated the underside of my tentacles as I moved along. The cups along the underside of my 8 tentacle arms were so stuck with fur that I am still saturated in Urshteck’s scent.

Until today, I had always enjoyed Urshteck’s company. Every one of our meetups has been pleasant and profitable. Unlike most other species I’ve encountered as traders, my furry associate has never attempted to clasp hands, or embrace my torso or penetrate me in any way. His reserved manners are so very refreshing. The only action required to conclude a deal being, when he taps his chest with a closed fist and bows, I return the gesture. Easy. Pleasant.

This fur shedding, though, is not at all pleasant. I will have to take a long and completely immersive swim in our bathing pod when I return to my home ship and then cycle the water through the filtering system.

‘Your appliances are in hanger 2. I have fabricators, generators, climatizing air purifiers, scrubbing bots and sanitizers from 5 different planetary systems and two different galaxies,’ Urshteck explained. He paused, scratching his crown fur and causing a cascade of the stuff to float around his shoulders. Then he went on, ‘I have thrown all sorts of power converters and fuel cells appropriate to these products so that they will function in a pan galactic standard home or ship. I had my engineer, Bhardaft, check every appliance to guarantee all are in working order.’

We arrived at hanger two and it is stacked with all sorts of alien appliances, as Urshteck promised. And exactly as my client, Sulahetch, ordered. ‘Alien Appliances,’ he’d requested, ‘The weirder the better. All different kinds of beautifully alien appliances.’

My crewmates and I are not the ones to judge beauty or weirdness. Our people are drawn to functionality and never adorn or decorate. I am the only one excited about this trade. The desert people of Sulahetch’s world are known for their pickiness and they have thrown away whole trade agreements and even instigated violent conflicts when a product didn’t meet their exacting standards. Both of my crewmates worry that we will be forced to warehouse this whole stock if Sulahetch rejects it. I am confident that this trade will go well. He wants ‘alien appliances,’ well, I have secured a diverse selection. He will be pleased and our trade will be accomplished, hopefully without any touching or embracing.

‘Perfect as always, my friend! I have transferred the funds,’ I enthused. I waited, studying Urshteck, but he did not tap his chest and bow to conclude our business. He looked down and to the side, tail swishing in a nervous, thinking gesture.

‘I have additional business I wish to discuss with you, good friend,’ he finally said in a low voice, that agitated scent emanating from him.

‘What sort?’ This could be very bad. We have a good trading relationship. If I had to deny him and he took offense…

‘Please come with me to hanger one so I can show you.’ As I followed him he explained, ‘I have gotten myself into some trouble. I have sworn in the past to never deal with Hierbog again. You remember him, yes? You have met him, or perhaps it was one of your brothers. I am sure you noticed that he is an honorless Lohest. His entire line is corrupt. But three turns ago he contacted me with a sweet deal. He had come across a herd of exotic pets. Cute, sweet and docile he said. Clean and cuddly is what the lying haftig said to me.’

Urshteck has always valued docile pets. Not sentient creatures of course, but the kind of animals that are entertaining or soothing and cute to look at. According to him, there is nothing more lucrative or satisfying than replaceing homes for sweet little pets. Unfortunately, I am forbidden from dealing in live cargo by the laws of my planet, Homeworld Two.

As we arrived at hanger 1, I began to notice a foul stench. We rounded the corner to a cacophony of screeches. There was screaming and wailing as if a whole herd of animals was being torn apart.

I closed my earflaps and held my breath. I can go a full turn without taking a breath, and breathing was unpleasant at this moment.

My senses thus protected; I studied the animals. The first thing I noticed was how similar these creatures are to Hershteck’s people. In a simple way, with two legs, two arms, their bodies having the same basic shape. But these animals had no tail and precious little fur, and they also lacked large triangle-shaped ears. They are absolutely precious; I can definitely see how these creatures could be a lucrative trade item. If they were not completely feral. There are 23 of them and they are all flocking into a far corner, except one that appears to be unconscious and is being dragged toward the corner by another creature. They are all smeared in waste. That is where the smell is coming from. All their eyes are wide with terror and focused on me as if I were some nightmarish monster.

Urshteck waved at me and motioned that we should leave. I followed him out the hanger and waited until I was far into the corridor to open my ear flaps.

‘I cannot deal in live cargo, ‘ I informed him.

‘I know you have this policy, but I was hoping you could help me out this one time,’ he pleaded. I shook my head in negation, but he continued, ‘I cannot deal with these things! They assault my senses! Their stink and their screeching make it impossible to get near them. No one has been able to feed them. I tried to gas them, but instead of going to sleep, they all got disgustingly ill all over each other.’

‘Why not return them to their planet of origin?’ I asked.

‘I do not know it. Heirbog cannot tell me either. He says he bought them second hand from Seereechees. You know how difficult it is to get information out of a Seereechee. All he could say is that they are ‘Urf Oomons”

The word doesn’t translate and I cannot make those sounds. I do not even try.

It is not in the translation matrix, so I assumed they are from an unknown or at least uncharted planet.

‘I wish I could help you, Urshteck, but I am forbidden from doing so.’

‘That is a Homeworld Two law and you have made it known that you and your brothers never plan to return to your planet. Why hold yourself to their laws?’

‘We are still subject to their laws. We remain citizens of Homeworld Two. If we violate their strictest taboo, they will hire bounty hunters to apprehend us, then we would be imprisoned in stasis.’

For once, I am glad of this. I have no idea what to do with these loud, stinky ‘urf oomans.’ Would I need to build enclosures for each individual creature? How would I determine what they could eat? They definitely need a more sanitary system for making waste. These poor, pathetic little creatures. They need rest, and food, and a few turns in a cleansing unit. By the Stars, they are so filthy! But they look so cute. I imagine one all cleaned up, with their head fur smoothed and untangled. Even one such as myself, who doesn’t value aesthetic beauty in the least, has to acknowledge the prettiness of these exotic creatures.

‘You could store them in stasis?’ I suggested.

‘I have only one stasis chamber. I have attempted to secure one in it, but whenever I enter their enclosure and draw near one of them, the others attack me as a swarm. Screeching and wailing, they pummel me with their tiny fists and yank on my fur. One even jumped on me and bit my ear! Fearsome, noisy little things!’ Even as he seems to disparage them, the way Urshteck leans back, crossing his arms on his chest as he shakes his furry head conveys admiration. They are so adorable, he even admires them in attack mode.

‘We have hundreds of stasis chambers in our inventory. I am willing to sell you twenty and help you secure them in stasis.’ I offered. This inventory is useless to us. We had meant to sell the stasis chambers but learned that the Seereechee that we were trading with was planning to use the chambers to steal sentient species away from uncontacted, R-class planets and sell them as slaves. We could not allow ourselves to be made accessory to such a crime.

‘I would appreciate that my friend. But why not sell me twenty-two so that I may secure them all?’ he asks, tilting his head in puzzlement.

‘I can sell you twenty-two. But the unconscious one is injured and needs to see a medical bay. And you should select a healthy one to attempt to train. In this way, you should be able to replace appropriate homes for them. If you keep them all in stasis and sell them without understanding and conveying their needs to their new caretakers, terrible consequences could result.’

‘Yes. You are correct. That is the responsible course of action.’ He scratched his head fur, as he considered. More tufts of blue fur wafted up and around him. I managed to conceal a shudder of disgust as I was again lightly coated.

‘A single one should be easy to subdue and correct. Dealing with the whole swarm of them is impossible, but a single one should not pose such difficulties.’ I cajole.

His head and tail bobbed in agreement.

A few spans later, after Hershteck has transferred back most of the credits I had originally transferred to him, and after I set up twenty stasis chambers along the hanger wall, here I was wrestling Urf Ooomans into stasis. A few attempts to gnaw on me with their harmless little flat teeth and I receive a few pitiful scratches, kicks, and punches. The closest thing to a real injury I sustain happened when one of them lunged toward my face and managed to scrape its dull, little, rounded claw against one of my primary eyelids causing me to snarl a bit in reaction. It was a reaction I immediately regretted when the darling little thing cringed away in fear.

‘Apologies, little one.’ I murmur patting it on its fuzzy head before I slide the chamber cover into place. Poor beast. Who can blame it for defending itself when it has no understanding of what is happening at all?

As I turn to grab the next one, I see that there is only one left. Huddled in a defensive ball in the corner, its face is tucked down and its arms are up around its head fuzz. This one’s mane is particularly entrancing as it is a shiny black that is curled tight into a poof held high on its head by some kind of cord. How very enterprising. This is indeed a clever animal. Definitely, this docile, smart little thing is the one Hershteck should keep and train.

It is time to conclude our business, but when I turn and face Hershteck, he still doesn’t perform the bow. What now?

‘My friend, you are particularly adept at handling these wild little beasts. My compliments and thanks,’ he says in gratitude.

I tilt my head in acknowledgment.

‘What should we do with that one?’

Oh, I had forgotten about the one crumpled on the floor, ‘Take it to your med bay. It requires a regen tank.’

‘My only regen tank is occupied. One of my engineers fell into a vat of coolant. Frozen solid. He is not getting out of regen any time soon,’ he says, scratching his chin thoughtfully as puffs of blue fluff continue to waft from him, ‘I suppose the kind thing to do is to put her down. It’s not right to allow an animal to suffer.’

I nudge the unconscious urf ooomon with one tentacle arm. This one is female and its tiny little round talons are painted. They are shiny red. Imagine taking the time out of her struggle to survive in whatever wild place she hails from, she takes a break to decorate her blunted claws. Adorable. I cannot get over how cute these things are.

I surprise myself and say, ‘I will take her to our regen tank.’

‘What about the laws of Homeworld Two?’ Hershteck prods.

‘I will not buy her or sell her. She will be returned to you when next we have dealings,’ I move a tentacle along the floor, ‘It is not expressly illegal to treat an animal in our med bay.’

‘Perfect!’ Hershteck scoops up the little beast and deposits her in my upper arms, ‘You are a true friend!’ He’s ushering me out of the storage bay and down the corridor to the shuttle bay, praising me the whole way, ‘You know, you are my most esteemed trade partner! Truly, our dealings are always fair and profitable!’ He touches his chest to perform his farewell as I slide into my shuttle pod, ‘Good parting, Third. May our paths cross again soon.’

Only when I begin docking into Homeship do I start to worry about my pod mates, First and Second. They will not be pleased with my latest acquisition.