"Or, so it is written in the poem."

"That's very interesting, David," Katherine Cullom said, sarcastically. "But this is a science lab, not a Literature classroom."

David Gaughan did not tell the marine biologist that the poem, or prophecy, was written in Von Junzt's Unaussprechlichen Kulten, but she would not have recognized the title if he did.

FIELD JOURNAL DR. KATHERINE CULLOM SEPTEMBER 29

After years of preparation, everything has come together!

It was with no little awareness of the scientific significance of this experiment, that I first observed the giant cephalopod this afternoon.

Reciting the phylogeny can't begin to capture the emotions of seeing the specimen the first time. It was monstrous in size, with what seemed like innumerable tentacles that could curl around the length of the tanker. It seemed to radiate, if you'll forgive the word, an aura of age, aeons, and absolute Evil.

As best we can measure a live specimen it's 24.3 meters in length, roughly the height of a five story building! It's weight, judged by water displacement, is 490 kilograms. Just imagine, this massive creature weighs less than a standard automobile!

Its skin in its natural state is a deep crimson with concentric black rings running around its tentacles and body like wild racing stripes. Like it's cousin, the Octopus Vulgaris, it has the ability to change color and skin texture in response to its environment and mood. A fact we learned almost immediately upon entering the hold of the converted oil tanker, where the immense aquarium had been constructed...

Despite repeated warnings to move slowly and speak softly, chaos reigned in the lab.

You'd think none of these people had ever dealt with a cephalopod before, Katherine thought angrily. They'd soon learn their lesson if it inked repeatedly and they had to climb into the tank and net out the cloud of black ink and mucous. The filtration system was top of the line, but no filter could keep up with multiple inkings by a specimen this size.

The presence of David Gaughan only increased Katherine's rage. Katherine had tried to have him thrown off the boat, or at least, out of the lab, but he had the proper authorization papers from Arkham Industries Corp. She couldn't fault the staff in the home office. She knew the techniques that David and Animal Rights Now! used to get such permission slips. David was an official observer for ARN!. She'd had numerous run-ins with the activist, despite the fact that she was a research scientist for a marine institute, not some corporate chemist looking for a way to dump pollution undetected. She often suspected David harassed her for purely personal reasons.

No hint of her raging emotions slipped passed her mask of professionalism, and it took only a firm hand on the shoulder, and a quiet, "Let's calm down, shall we?" administered to the half-dozen people nearest to her to start a ripple effect through the room.

In a voice only a notch louder than normal conversation, Katherine began issuing orders to the team. Despite the immense size of the ship's hold, she had no need to repeat herself.

Only after teams were dispatched to measure, weigh and photograph the specimen, did she allow herself the luxury to turn back to the aquarium tank and study the creature.

The techs had done a good job of building a giant cave in the middle of the tank, as well as tunnels and perches all along the floor of the massive aquarium.

Katherine was more than a little disconcerted to find it had climbed out of its cavernous lair to press itself against the glass and study her.

Like most Octopods, its eyes were telescopic, and could raise and retract from the side of its head more than two feet in any direction. Unlike most Octopods, it had three sets of eye stalks, far more than necessary given the telescopic range of each eye. All six eyes seemed to ignore the rest of the team and follow her about the room.

The specimen was remarkably calm, exhibiting none of the characteristics of fear common to it's family -- other than a slight pulsing of color when a skin scraping was taken from the tips of one of it's tentacles. The examination revealed retractable claw hooks on the underside of each tentacle, five inches in length, curved, and tapered to a deadly point.

It could climb a mountain with spikes like that, Katherine thought.

There were also tiny growths at the base of its two back legs where the tentacles joined the body. They looked like wing buds. More likely, they were the last remnants of dual dorsal fins, discarded by species evolution, but not quite disposed of by the species' genes.

One of the younger members of the research team climbed the ladder to the room of the enourmous tank and unlocked the feeding hatch. Using a wench, he raised a giant crate up to the top, then guided it to the opening and dumped the contents in. He quickly closed the hatch when he was done.

Ten pounds of assorted live fish and crustaceans began swimming about the tank. The young scientist would monitor what the creature ate, in order to determine its dietary range and preferences.

"Remember to lock that hatch securely," Katherine told the Feeder. The specimen may be a giant, but we shouldn't assume that it isn't every bit the escape artist other Octopods are."

He shuddered and nodded. No one wanted to imagine this creature slouching moistly through the corridors of the ship.

Katherine was beginning to think the early field reports were inaccurate and this specimen didn't have a protective ink sack, when the creature proved her wrong.

Considering how calmly it had weathered the earlier chaos in the lab, its reaction to the ship's cat surprised her.

The specimen had somehow worked the hatch open and snaked a long tentacle across the floor in pursuit of the cat. There were more than a dozen people in the room, but no one noticed until the feline screeched.

Hissing wildly, the cat scraped its claws down the length of the menacing tentacle. Ichor squirted from the wounds. The specimen thumped two tentacles against the aquarium wall as it retracted its injured arm. A black cloud struck and rebounded against the glass. A high-pitched wail pierced the room, as it jetted into the rocky cave.

The scream did not end when the creature reached it's lair, and more than one member of the team was on his knees, hands clasped to his ears in pain.

Return to Releases.

All text on this page copyrighted by Tina Jens and the respective publisher, as applicable. No use in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the appropriate party. Be nice-- ask first.