Chapter 1 #2
One of the attendants calls out the infraction when someone grabs one of my tentacles, but the noise startles the kid whose hand I’m still holding with my arm and he stumbles at precisely the wrong moment.
I was already preparing to flee, but the loud noise makes me flinch, curling in on myself to avoid the threat.
Except that my appendage has a literal mind of its own in this form, and I almost drag the little boy right into the tank.
I steady him with two other arms, but the tip of one arm brushes over a patch of something sticky on the kid's damp sleeve cuff.
Eww. Static humans touching me isn't too bad as long as they wash up properly and don’t get grabby.
Their salty skin tastes neutral to my senses as long as I have access to water and they aren't covered in synthetic poisons.
But between the vaguely floral ick of fabric softener in his sleeve and whatever he got on it, something I'm touching now stings.
For a panicked moment I find myself only half-submerged, my rearmost arms brace to lift me out of the water as use my other arms to keep the kid from falling into the tank.
After the initial shock, the limb touching the burning substance automatically damps down on how much of the pain gets through to my awareness.
Worst case, I can regrow the limb in my octopus form, it's an extraordinarily unpleasant process though.
The longer I'm tasting the substance, the more I can parse individual flavors.
The sweet residue of candy isn't an issue, but the burn of whatever sour flavoring it contained makes me desperate to recoil in pain.
Except then the kid would topple into the water and he looks so scared, I'm not going to let that happen.
Our gazes lock. His are as wide as saucers, the picture of shock as he squeaks in fear.
"Don't eat me!" The kid wails as his father finally reappears and scoops him out of my grasp. He shoots me a withering glare before parent and child are escorted out by my sister's boss. Not the aquarium manager, the head of the entire lab facility. Dr. Neptune.
Trudy mentioned something about hearing about her grant funding after today’s board meeting. Which must be happening now if Dr. Neptune is in this part of the building.
Fuck. If I caused an incident in front of key donors and the entire board, this might be a bigger problem for my sister and her husband. Not that I can fix it at this point.
Now that the kid is out of harm's way, the flavors on my skin from where I touched him flood past the nerve cluster that controls the single limb and threaten to overwhelm me. I hardly notice myself turning the greenish gray color of the rocks.
The color of pain/fear/panic/hide swirls over me, camouflaging is a reflex as ingrained as pulling away from a hot surface in my human form. All eight of my arms work in tandem to propel me away from the spectators. I jet back to the underwater tunnel into our break area without a backward glance.
Chemical exposure protocol is to get out of the tank, shift, shower and debrief.
Unlike most of the aquatic shifters I work with, I have no need of shifting to let myself out of the tank.
It would take much more than a hip height barrier and dry land to contain me in any form.
I flop over the edge of the tank, and all but ooze across the changing area to the showers, the rubber mats on top of the concrete floor is briny, but not off-putting and I take comfort in the way my arms coil around me, like I'm being wrapped in layers of hugs.
Still, I shift back to human before I enter the shower area.
People use human hygiene products in there and my suckers ache enough from the acidic burn of the candy without adding more unpleasantness.
Yeah, definitely I shouldn't have let my sister con me into this last minute winter break gig.
Sure, the pay is great but it's not worth the stress.
I take my time showering and getting dressed.
I expect HR or someone to be waiting for me in the hallway with an incident report as soon as I step out of the changing area.
The lab is big on documenting everything.
It's even possible they could call True or Lincoln down to check on me.
Instead, the last person I expect to be waiting stands from the bench near the door.
Dr. Neptune. The woman who has the power to make or break my sister's career goals.
She's older, and not exactly physically imposing with her long silvery braid, round matronly figure, and weathered face, but she carries herself like she expects as much deference on land as her aquatic form demands in the ocean.
“Gillian, right?” Dr. Neptune asks.
“Um, I'm Gillian, yes.” I nod, I am so far out of my depth talking to her.
"Are you alright? You bolted so fast, I wanted to be sure you weren't injured.
" She gives me a maternal once over, like she can see an injury through my clothes or something.
The woman's other form is an orca, so maybe she can.
True said something about them hunting with soundwaves.
I shake myself out of that mental tangent and focus.
"Um. I'm fine. He had some sour candy on his shirt and it mostly startled me. Nothing a quick rinse couldn't fix. Just a bit shaken. How's the kid? It all happened so fast, I swear I was only trying to keep him from falling in, not trying to eat him."
"Oh, what nonsense! Of course you weren't trying to eat the child.
" Neptune giggles as she waves away my concerns.
"He's fine, very excited to tell everyone about his adventure fighting a ship destroying kraken.
His father is irate that their family is banned from our enrichment activities for a year. "
"Oh. Um, you didn't have to do that." Even in my human form, I flush a guilty shade of orange.
"No, I definitely needed to intervene. They violated protocol and you could have been hurt.
Not to mention the risk of injury from the rock formations if your quick actions hadn't prevented the poor child from coming to real harm, and the laborious prospect of having to shut down the winter break program to remediate water balance issues.
" She shakes her head decisively at the daunting list of repercussions, then smiles at me, and ugh, the approval in her eyes has me all weak at the knees. "No, you did the right thing."
"It was nothing. I'm just glad he's alright. He was only curious. Kids that age--" I bite my lip, letting the implications hang.
It's almost physically painful to hold back from delving into one of my favorite topics.
Not everyone finds early childhood development as fascinating as I do.
Part of me still wants to shoehorn in a few key points, it's not my fault Dr. Neptune presented me with such a perfect segue.
I take a steadying breath. At least my colors don't betray my emotions with folks who aren't familiar with octopus shifter colors, because I might explode with the effort to stick to polite conversation.
Trudy might throttle me if I irritate her boss.
Doctor Neptune, for all she exudes stern but loving grandma vibes and for some reason seems to care that I'm alright, does not want to hear me ramble.
It's not like she knew her comment would unlock what True--usually affectionately-- calls my un-skippable monolog cut-scene mode.
The silence makes me squirm until I meet Neptune's eyes, looking for a cue.
"Go on," she prompts, studying my face so intently I almost question whether I accidentally did let my agitation pull some chromatophores into my human form and her research means she understands them.
That would be embarrassing. I pat my cheeks, as if I can wipe the colors away, which is obviously silly.
Calming breath, focus on human skin, not my octopus side.
Her instincts are always to hide from conflict and stress so I let her hide and lean into my awareness of my human form.
"Oh, I was just going to say that kids that young aren’t developmentally capable of impulse control." I shrug. Four-year-olds are just on the cusp of that skill. There is so much more to add, enough to fill volumes, but that's the concise version.
"Precisely." Neptune nods. "So, you see why I needed to enforce consequences with the parent.
You stopped the child from falling into the tank, but the adult should have never allowed the situation to escalate to that point.
Now, I'm glad to see you're taking the rest of the day off after that.
Check your email for the incident report paperwork and get it filled out by the end of the week, yes? "
She fixes me with such a stern look that I answer reflexively. "Yes, Ma'am."
I shuffle nervously from foot to foot, arms wrapped around my torso for comfort.
Sometimes, four human limbs really isn't enough.
Is there a delicate way to protest doing paperwork for a job I'm not sure I still have or want?
Then again, it's pretty clear she doesn't blame me for my part in the near miss, so I'm probably not fired.
Ugh. That means if I want to be done, I have to quit.
Well, I'm certainly not doing that here in the hallway when the boss is being weirdly compassionate with me.
She's not flirting, and I’m not getting any attraction type vibes here, but urgh, there's something about a powerful woman, dishing out orders from a place of compassion that makes my human knees about as solid as my octopus form.
"Well, I won't keep you, since you're exhausted, but I'm sure I'll see you around, Gillian." She gives me a warm smile.
"What?" How can she tell I'm all out of energy for being around static human social niceties without me saying a word? "How can you tell?"
I frown at her, something is fishy in the human sense, not the delicious snacks octopus sense.