10:37 02/04/2587 –(8734/653/76/02)

After four days of looking, Gabriel had still not experienced one-tenth of Reshu Zoo. He had been right to book a year here; it would take a month just to see the controlled environments, not to mention the tours on land, sea and air out in the wild.

The animals and plants were primarily housed in separate buildings, vast complexes that made Sri Venkateswara zoological park look puny by comparison. Each building containing fauna from a different world.

The one he was currently in was an example of the Nimuteru homeworld, a quadrupedal race of tusked herbivores. The air was rich in oxygen, and the gravity was slightly lower than Minagerad.

The variety was staggering; some of the life was so similar that you would mistake it for originating on Earth, others so vastly different they nearly defied all classification.

The one that stood out the most was The Red Bellu. It was almost identical to a European red squirrel. The only differences were slightly rounder ears and a marginally less bushy tail. If someone had shown it to Gabriel and told him The Red Bellu was a squirrel before today, he would have believed them.

On the other end of the spectrum was the Postun, a long worm-like creature with a muscular trunk, wings on its flanks and a mouth on its back. It seemed horribly inefficient and was from a world known as Trim, a Class 2 (H) with no native population.

That being said, low-level Paradiseworlds were often so pleasant that they allowed bizarre forms that would never survive on more competitive planets.

Gabriel checked his watch; it was almost time for the feeding, and as a V.I.P., he had booked the slot to take part. He was a little uncomfortable about being watched, but he wanted to do this, and he wasn’t going to let his nerves get in the way.

He left the Red Bellu enclosure behind and followed the directions given to him on his P.D.A. Gabriel knew precisely what to do from the two previous events he had partaken in; he began to walk through an opening in the wall marked staff only.

The path was long, snaking throughout the park, allowing the zookeepers and other employees to move through the complex quickly. Several side paths would have taken him to Rid, Froduek, Wisp and Notur exhibits, but the one that Gabriel was looking for marked Great Mjull.

Gabriel also appreciated that everything was signposted; he assumed it was to aid new staff in finding their way. He encountered a few people along the way, but no one stopped him or asked him what he was doing there; he acted as if he belonged there, so everyone assumed he did.

Not that he did not belong, one of the V.I.P. perks was using the staff corridors. He tried not to, though, sticking the public route whenever possible; it just seemed polite.

As he took the next right, he found a bipedal alien, their long thick fur arranged in elegant plaits. A name tag attached to an apron read, “Keeper Ds’Tulk.”

“Are you Gabriel Ratlu?” the alien asked, their voice husky and their accent challenging to parse.

“Yes,” Gabriel replied with a nod.

“Now the show is about to begin; before we go through, I just need to go through a few safety procedures with you,” he explained.

Gabriel nodded, which Ds’Tulk assumed meant yes. “Good, now Great Mjull are not violent creatures, but they can get snippy when they feel their food is being threatened; their beaks can also be quite sharp,” Ds’Tulk explained.

Gabriel looked down at his hands, covered in his suit; it would be unlikely that even a lion could puncture it.

Ds’Tulk also noticed the suit and the rather sturdy material it was made from. “While it may not be an issue for you, I feel we should err on the side of caution,” he stated.

Gabriel nodded again and replied, “ that makes sense.”

Ds’Tulk was pleased that this gentleman was far more reasonable than most. Many V.I.Ps seemed to think that the animals would roll over for them. Ironically, the habitableworlders usually held this attitude, whereas the feral, savage Deathworlders were far more willing to listen to experts, most of them anyway.

He recalled to this day that Yarul, who strutted about like he owned the place, ended up getting a lifetime ban.

“It’s also important that you do not enter the water; I am not doubting your swimming ability; it is just a standard safety protocol,” Ds’Tulk added.

Gabriel nodded and said, “I understand.”

Ds’Tulk’s ears waved back and forth, and he replied, “good, now what we’ll do is grab a bucket, enter the enclosure; I give the talk, we’ll feed the animals, answer some questions, and we’ll see if the little buggers play ball.”

Gabriel nodded and smiled slightly beneath his mask. Ds’Tulk took that as meaning ok and led Gabriel inside. The paddock was vast, the size of a football pitch at least, though the stands were far less impressive, only allowing two rows of people to sit, lay or however they reclined.

All around were the squarks of the bird-like creatures he had come to feed. It wasn't easy to make out any definitive details, but he knew what the Great Mjull looked like from the guide he had been given.

Little bigger than an emperor penguin, with a sturdy beak filled with thin needle-like teeth. Rather than feathers, they were covered in long, flat, flexible, narrow scales, with a chemical composition most similar to chitin, though it was not as strong pound for pound.

They lived along the seashore, on rocky cliffs and were agile in both air and water, though they rarely made long flights in their natural habitat. Gabriel supposed their lifestyle was most similar to the puffin, though if the two were ever to compete, Gabriel suspected that the puffin would come out on top.

Even though the Great Mjull outsized and outweighed them, the puffin would almost certainly be able to fly farther, faster and fish harder than the Mjull could.

“Not really sure why I even thought of that,” mused Gabriel; it seemed a little childish to compare every animal here to something on Earth and wonder who would win.

Ds’Tulk adjusted their headset and said, “right now can everyone hear me?” His voice blared out of the speakers dotted about the exterior of the enclosure.

The crowd made noise to confirm that they could, as an image of Ds’Tulk appeared on the screens so everyone could see him.

“Before we begin, I would just like to thank Gabriel Ratlu, who has very kindly agreed to help me today,” said Ds’Tulk. The camera focused on him, and Gabriel felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Don’t be afraid to say hello, Gabriel,” Ds’Tulk said, and in response, Gabriel waved.

“That’s the thing about there being so many races in the galaxy, he could have just told all of us to sod off, and we’d be none the wiser,” Ds’Tulk said with a chuckle. The various people on the stands and standing at the edge of the enclosure made different noises that Gabriel assumed was amusement.

Gabriel himself snickered slightly and watched as Ds’Tulk began his show.

Ds’Tulk reached into his bucket and pulled out a couple of fish. They had most likely been vat-grown; it was far cheaper and much more humane than using real fish; these had been cloned and had had only the most rudimentary of brain functions; even jellyfish would have been smarter.

As the fish were removed, several of the Mjull came soaring down, Ds’Tulk threw one into the air, and one of the not birds snatched from the sky.

“Now, in their natural habitat, they would, of course, not snatch Hurf from the air; instead, they would catch them in the water,” Ds’Tulk explained, he began to walk towards the water’s edge, and he threw several Hurf into the water.

“Gabriel, would you care to lend a hand,” Ds’Tulk said, and Gabriel blushed as he imagined all those eyes upon him.

Feeling it was best to rip the plaster off, he reached into the bucket, grabbed one of the fish and threw. The low gravity made him put too much power into his fling, and it thumped into the perspex screen, separating the crowd from the animals.

There were a few gasps as the dead fish left a streak of fluid on the screen as it fell towards the water beneath. Not that the Mjull cared; they snapped it up before it reached the recreated sea.

Ds’Tulk said nothing, taken aback by the power in those little arms; he must have thrown it twenty metres or more. He was a professional, though, and Ds’Tulk quickly recovered.

“It appears someone was a little overeager; why don’t you give it another go, and kindly don’t fire one at me,” Ds’Tulk said, quickly defusing what might appear to some more delicate viewers as a violent outburst.

Gabriel threw another fish, this time, it landed in the water, and a Mjull dived in after it.

“Now the Great Mjull are found on every continent of Modhird, having been introduced to them by the Nimuteru. As the Great Mjull, when times are scarce, will prey upon Frell, thereby serving as a primitive pest control system,” Ds’Tulk explained, pacing about the enclosure, throwing more fish into the water.

Gabriel assumed Frell were Modhird’s equivalent of insects, though they must reach far greater sizes with more oxygen and lower gravity.

“The Great Mjull is native to the southern continent of Edrfa; it is also the continent where their numbers are greatest. On Edrfa, they hunt such Hurf as the Blue Sopul, White Frell, Darting Qot, and the Yellow Sopul,” Ds’Tulk stated.

Ds’Tulk looked up towards the ceiling, shielding his eyes from a non-existent sun and said, “There she is, people, the resident bully of the flock.”

Stolen story; please report.

A particularly large Mjull descended from the sky and began to chase away the smaller Mjull. “That is Doriyu; she has been here the longest and isn’t afraid to throw her weight around.” “She will be fifty-six this year, and in the wild, she would be approaching the end of her life, but here at Minagerad, she has access to the best medical care, and we expect her to reach the ripe old age of one hundred and forty.”

Doriyu, after scaring off most of the other Mjull, took to the air once more and began circling Ds’Tull.

“Mjull are not particularly intelligent animals, but Doriyu has lived here long enough to know where the food really comes from,” Ds’Tulk said, throwing one of the fish into the air.

Doriyu snatched it and immediately started to circle again, “We try not to encourage this behaviour, but the old girl has grown cantankerous, and she will pester us till she gets what she wants.”

Doriyu landed on a rock and began to make a motion not dissimilar to vomiting. “Now you may notice that Doriyu appears to be in distress; in actuality, she had a special pouch called a crop in her throat; this means she can catch several fish before eating them,” explained Ds’Tull

Doriyu swallowed and ruffled her wings. “This serves to make her a more efficient hunter by staying out at sea rather than returning to land every time she succeeds.”

The old Mjull looked at Gabriel and took to the air. She began circling him; every once in a while, she would dive towards Gabriel and then pull away; he knew what Doriyu was doing; she was trying to mob him so that he would drop the bucket, and Doriyu would get all the fish to herself.

Gabriel was not about to play her game; instead, he grabbed a fish from the bucket and held it in his outstretched hand. “You ok there, Gabriel? she can get a bit snippy with people she doesn’t know”, asked Ds’Tull.

“I’m fine,” replied Gabriel.

Doriyu attempted to snatch the fish from his hand, but Gabriel yanked it from her snout.

“Please don’t tease her,” said Ds’Tull, annoyed with Gabriel's disrespect for the animal.

“I’m not; I’m trying to get her to behave,” said Gabriel; Ds’Tull said something in response, but he was so focused on his task that he did not register it.

“Come on, you won’t be able to take it; you have to be polite,” thought Gabriel as Doriyu’s confidence slowly grew.

Finally, the Great Mjull realised what she needed to do and landed on Gabriel's arm. He immediately unclenched his fist, and Doriyu took the fish.

Now that she was up close, Gabriel was taken away by not just her size but also her weight; despite being as big as an emperor penguin, Doriyu could not weigh more than 8kg.

Gabriel gave the Mjull another fish and slowly brought the not-bird closer to him, supporting one arm with another. The feather-like scales were counter-shaded, black on top, white on the underbelly, providing camouflage, and making Doriyu a more effective hunter.

The only exception was a bright blue patch on her throat; Gabriel had read it was used in communication, nothing complicated, just my patch is bigger than yours, so get lost.

Ds’Tull knew where Gabriel was from, but it was one thing to read about humanity’s strength and another to see it in person. He just stood there, holding Doriyu up like it was nothing. Ds’Tull wasn’t even mad that he had technically broken the rules by interacting with the Mjull.

The crowd seemed to be just as impressed as Ds’Tull was, and he was nothing if not a competent showman. “Well, you saw it here first, people, the first person that Doriyu ever respected; give it up for Gabriel, everyone,” Ds’Tull called out, and he and the crowd began to make various noises of applause.

Gabriel felt good that everyone was cheering, or their equivalent of cheering, but mostly he felt uncomfortable as all those eyes burned into him. His leg began to shake, and Doriyu bobbed up and down.

He was done, Gabriel did want to hold onto the Mjull, but he could not stand being the centre of attention, so copying what he had seen falconers do, he pulled his arm back and flung it forward, giving Doriyu a launching start.

The Mjull took to the air, but not before lifting her stubby tail and squirting a stream of pale crap all over his chest.

***

Nish loved her daughter, she truly did, but sometimes the rascal drove her up the nearest cliff. Every morning, Pista refused to go out, saying that the animals were boring and that she wanted to watch Trolo or play at the park. Then Pista got to Reshu Zoo, and Nish found it almost impossible to contain her.

One moment she would spend nearly an hour staring at a sleeping Goyg and have to be dragged away or hop between exhibits, her wings fluttering, trying desperately to lift her off the ground.

Her daughter’s adorable little display made the stress melt away, and Nish gently held onto Pista's shoulders. “The animals aren’t going anywhere, so slow down,” Nish said.

“I wanna see the Vetoru and the Carnedon,” said Pista, wiggling out of her mother's grip.

“We will, but the talk isn’t until 35:50 anyway,” replied Nish.

“No, I want to see them now,” Pista stated, stamping her feet.

“They’ll be hiding; we won’t see anything,” Nish pointed out.

“Don’t care, wanna see them now,” Pista replied, slapping her thighs.

“If we go there now, and after a little while we don’t see them, will you wait for the talk?” asked Nish; she did not want to go, but the last thing she wanted was for Pista to throw a paddy.

Making their way through the crowd, Nish followed the signs until they were outside the Vetoru and Carnedon enclosure. The habitat was a depression, roughly four metres from the ground and surrounded by electric fencing and a moat at the bottom.

All this security was there for a good reason; Vetoru and Carnedon were the highlights of Minagerad, predators from a Class 10 (H). The most dangerous killers the planet had to offer.

It was not just their strength, speed, toughness, stamina and formidable animal cunning that made them dangerous it was their bond.

The Vetoru and Carnedon were both widely different species, hailing from the world of Kodutri, that nonetheless had come together to form a mutualistic alliance.

The Vetoru were small, nimble predators that hunted in packs, using their teeth and claws to bleed their prey dry.

The Carnedon, in contrast, was a hulking behemoth, a towering wall of bone and muscle that could cave in the skull of all but Kodutri’s strongest lifeforms.

So successful had this union been that it had caused a minor extinction event on the three continents the two species inhabited. This had had a knock-on effect on most of the other animals, to become bigger, tougher, faster or smarter to keep up.

Zoologists were watching all this with bated breath; some even theorised this would lead to sapience emergence on the planet in two or three million years, something that had never been documented happening in real-time before.

As Nish read the screen, all she could think of was how optimistic the scientists were being. She was no pessimist, she did not believe any of the space-faring species were headed for extinction, but even so, two million years was very ambitious.

Nish looked away from the screen to her daughter. Pista's head swivelled between the enclosure and the screens; each displayed a different section of the habitat, meaning they could still be observed even if the animals were not in sight.

That was the theory anyway; the Vetoru and Carnedon were hiding today. They were intelligent enough to know when feeding time was and, therefore, smart enough not to waste energy until then.

“I can’t see them,” Pista pouted.

Nish tapped her forehead with two of her hands and said, “I know… this is what I told you would happen.” If Nish ever met someone who said raising a child was easy, she would punch them right in the face.

Nish heard her daughter grunt behind her and saw Pista climbing a tree.

“Get down from there now!” Nish ordered.

“I want to see,” Pista replied, scrambling higher into the branches.

“I told you to get down, and I meant it!” Nish stated, raising her voice and drawing the attention of a few passers-by.

“No!” Pista retorted, continuing to climb higher.

“You’re going to break your neck; this isn’t Yursu; everything’s heavier here,” Nish said, deciding a change in tactic might work.

Pista paused for a moment, seemingly taking her mother’s words to heart. Before discarding them and continuing to climb higher, she could not break her neck after all; her neck wasn’t broken.

Nish was done, a little precociousness was good, but this was unacceptable.

“Pista Grelu Walunet Tufanda, get down here now! Or we are going home, and we will never come back!” Nish cried, no longer caring who was watching.

“No! You’ll yell at me,” Pista cried.

Nish hissed in response, “I’m yelling at you now; the only difference is that if you come down now, you will still be at the zoo at the end of the day.”

Pista had known her mother for twelve years, and in that time, she had learned that Nish did not make idle threats. If she said they were going home, they were going home, no matter how much money they would have wasted.

“Ok,” Pista whispered. Fortunately for her, Nish heard it and her temperament changed from burning anger to mere frustration.

Unfortunately, the Tufanda was a little too desperate to avoid her punishment. As she clambered down, she placed too much of her weight on a thin branch, and it snapped.

Reacting on the instincts ingrained into her ancestors, the little girl lept and spread her wings; they began to beat furiously, struggling to overcome Minagerad’s gravity.

Pista benefited from her youth; she was far lighter than her mother, so she did not reach a speed that would kill her.

That was the least of Nish’s concerns, however, as frustration turned to horror.

Nish watched as Pista decent saw her fly straight over the electrified fence and into the paddock.

***

Dinosaurs if there was ever a species in the galaxy that encapsulated what a dinosaur looked like, it was the Vetoru. Another stunning example of convergent evolution if Gabriel ever saw it.

Of course, there were some differences; their arms had only two claws instead of three, and their faces were flatter; Gabriel supposed it was what you would get if you got a velociraptor and an alligator and split the difference.

Other than that rather impressive.

The Carnedon, on the other hand, was a true alien, larger than a polar bear, held up by eight powerful legs, the front four equipped with retractable claws. Its back and sides were covered in heavy osteoderms, leathery skin, and the underbelly was lined with subdermal armour.

Well, not true osteoderms. The animals did not have bone but rather a substance like cartilage reinforced with calcium carbonate, not as strong as bone but still a rigid material.

Not that Gabriel had seen them, he got all this information off the interactive boards dotted around the paddock. He had come early to nab a good spot for the feeding and talk. There was no behind-the-scenes for him with this one; he had even asked and gotten a prompt reply, explaining that Reshu zoo would not risk anyone's life with these two fearsome creatures, even for someone of his calibre.

Gabriel had been a little confused by the response. All he wanted to do was throw some meat into the enclosure alongside the keeper. He had not followed it up; however, they had said no, and it was not high on his priority list.

Reading through the information, Gabriel's eye was caught by one particular sentence. “Scientists are considering upgrading Kodutri from a habitableworld to a deathworld, in light of the new partnership between the two species.”

Gabriel squinted. No, they weren’t because scientists did not use those terms deathworld, habitableworld, or paradiseworld. Those were all tourist designations, a form of shorthand so that a visitor could get a rough idea of how much preparation they would need.

The only terms scientist used was life-bearing or sterile. The classes' differences were just too arbitrary to warrant anything so concrete. Every world was habitable to the life that lived on it.

“Oh well, it’s not that important,” Gabriel mumbled.

He checked his P.D.A., still about half an hour until the show; he had been right to come early, a crowd was already forming. He read more information on the animals to pass the time,

“Vetoru laid eggs usually in the dens of Carnedon females.”

“Both species would protect one another young.”

“Only in times of extreme scarcity would the alliance break down, and would either side view the other as potential prey.”

“Vetoru would aid Caredon by….”

The screen cut out, an alarm sounded, letter flashed along the screens saying, “Do Not Panic!”

Most of the displays continued to display the message, but Gabriel noticed that a few others had switched to monitoring the enclosure.

Gabriel was astounded as he saw a little Tufanda desperately flailing in the water. He knew where she was as well; she was inside the paddock, “How the hell did she get in there?” Gabriel asked himself.

To his relief, the kid could swim, or rather a controlled splashing, and she slowly hauled herself onto dry land. The poor thing tried to flap her wings, but they were so saturated with water that she could barely move them, let alone take to the air.

Gabriel noticed something in the corner of his eye. Several bushes were rustling, and what’s more, the wave of movement was heading directly towards where the girl lay, now painting and coughing.

It wasn’t just the cameras that had noticed the girl falling; the Vetoru had as well. It must have been the damn alarm that got their attention; if it weren’t for that, they would have probably been none the wiser.

Gabriel looked desperately at the screen, “where are the drones?” he asked himself; there should be drones with tasers deployed immediately to keep anyone who fell in safe.

“They don’t have drones,” he stated with utter horror, “What the fuck is wrong with these people?” he added, holding his head. There weren’t any keepers around either, they were no doubt scrambling as he spoke, but if even half of what he had learned about the Vetoru was true, the Tufanda didn’t have the luxury of time.

Could he do something? He had to try, right, but what? In that instant, an image flashed in his head, and he clutched his chest. Yes, he must try; the was no choice in the matter; if that kid died and he did nothing, Gabriel could never live with himself.

Gabriel backed up as far as he could. “I hope I can clear it, and I hope I don’t break my legs,” he thought, and with that, he ran at the enclosure fence.