Dr. Laura Martin, Chief Extraterrestrial Life Scientist at The Touchstone Institute of Oceanographic Research, noticed troubling but subtle changes in the Atlantic Ocean.
Before she could make sense of it all, her longtime assistant abruptly walked out.
Laura hired young, handsome Scott Conner to be her personal assistant. Mayhem ensued, mainly because of Zara, the mermaid/siren/monster in the basement of the Touchstone Institute, who eyed on Scott as her possible mate in a plot for total domination of planet Earth.
“The Touchstone Institute of Oceanographic Research is the most fantastic, exhilarating place on the planet to work. It is high energy, exciting, sometimes maddening, often frightening, heart pounding work. It’s not a job. It’s a lifetime commitment. It gets in your blood. It grabs you by the throat and possesses you, body and soul. And it is work. If you’re not prepared to work your ass off day in and day out, weekends, holidays, your birthday, and your mamma’s birthday, leave now.”
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Excerpt:
“Scott? Come!” called Dr. Martin from the stairwell. Scott came bounding up the stairs two at a time, smiling ear to ear.
“Will you look at this guy?” Laura said to Sylvia. “I’ve never even had a dog who came when I called him.”
“Oh, Laura, please be careful. He’s so young and tender. You could mangle him.”
“Don’t worry, Syl, I’m not going to keep him long enough to do him any permanent damage. But I am going to enjoy the hell out of him for next two weeks. Then I’ll release him back into the real world and give him his freedom. He’s just so, uh, refreshing.”
“Yes, Dr. Martin?”
“Scott, I need you to assist Dr. Vanna Johanssen in Operating Room Three. We have an alien-octopus emergency.”
“We have an alien octopus here?” he beamed, wide-eyed and excited.
“No, we have an octopus who ate an alien. Have you ever operated on an octopus who may have swallowed an alien lifeform before?”
“No, Dr. Martin.”
“Then suit up. And don’t forget to adhere your goggles securely. You’ll get wet.”
“Yes, Dr. Martin.” He ran back down the stairs to suit up for surgery.
“I love his enthusiasm.” Laura admired him as he bounced away.
On hour later, a wet, still smiling, happy Scott emerged from Operating Room Number Three holding a fluorescent Panoptilarius.
“Look at this little guy! Where’d he come from?”
“A small planet is a distant solar system. Panoptila. He’s a Panoptilarius.”
“He’s adorable,” said Scott, playing with the Panoptilarius. “Did you ever play with jacks when you were a kid? I had older sisters who did. This little guy looks just like a big blue glowing jack with an eyeball at the end of each knob.”
“Close. But one knob… isn’t an eyeball.”
“Oh. I see,” said Scott, examining the elimination knob. “Do we have any more of these guys?”
“Yes. We have a whole tankful of those happy, little fellows. Tank #153. Come on, I’ll show you. We’ll put him with the rest of his family.”
“Come on, little guy. I think I’ll call you Larry. Let’s get you back home, Larry,” Scott petted him.
“Now, little guy, stay away from the octopus tank, okay? He’s in a bad mood,” Laura said softly. “The Panoptilarius are a psychic species, and they bond very quickly, Scott. He knows you saved him from the octopus’ deep, dark, excruciatingly painful, burning digestive system. You’ve made a friend.”
Scott gently placed him into the seemingly dark and empty tank. As soon as the Panoptilarius got back into his home tank, he was swarmed with happy blinking relatives, jumping and rolling all over each other, squeaking and squealing. Laura and Scott watched them, laughing and enjoying their antics, when suddenly they all stopped and crowded the tank window, looking up at Scott. They nodded at Scott and hummed. Tears rolled down Scott’s cheeks, understanding the Panoptilarius chorus of sincere, humble gratitude. He glanced over at Laura.
“If you ever tell anybody about this,” he pointed to his tears, “I’ll deny it.” He wiped them away with his sleeve.
“Why? It shows that you understand Panoptilarian, and that you’re a kind and gentle soul with a good heart. Those are good things.”
“To us, maybe.”
“Who else counts?” She smiled a big, beautiful smile at him and winked.
He blushed. He stood a little taller.
They worked late into the night.
“Okay, pack it up, guys. Let’s go home.”
Scott hung around while the others ran off. “Scott, go home.”
“First, I’m walking you to your car.”
“No. You don’t have to.”
“Yes. I do. I need to know what you’re driving and where you park. Because after tonight, I’ll go get your car and bring it to the door for you when you’re ready to go home.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s late, it’s dark, that parking deck is isolated, you’re tired, and your safety is important to me.”
They walked to her parking place in silence.
“Get in. I’ll drop you off. You’re doing your best to wiggle yourself into my good graces, aren’t you?”
“Ahh, you noticed! I live right here, Dr. Martin. Thank you for the ride. Remember to lock your doors. See you in the morning.”
“Good night, Scott. I hope you don’t have nightmares.”
“No chance,” he smiled shyly.
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