How to Have Fun With Only One Tentacle
an excerpt

Madagascar Jinx resisted the urge to slam his human enemy down on the cold slab. Instead he laid his paralyzed foe down gently, and even took the time to arrange his limbs into a more comfortable position.

Then he hurried over to his pod-mate. He knelt beside his friend, and touched him gently.

“Koolorin,” he called softly, his human tongue tripping over the syllables. Try as he might, he could not properly speak his own language. The vocal apparatus in this form was too different. All he could do was approximate.

The mass of tentacles writhed. With a gusty, sea-scented sigh, Koolorin sat up. His color was dulled from its normal, healthy mauve, and his large round eyes were more green than yellow. His effort at subduing their human invader had taken a great toll on his energies and left him feeling weak and ill.

Jinx helped him to sit up, and waited to see if his companion felt like standing. In the meantime, he stroked his companion’s form and uttered soft, soothing sounds, as one might to an injured hatchling. Koolorin’s beak clicked and he crooned back, a reassurance that he was not seriously impaired. After a few moments of this soft communion, Koolorin gave himself a shake, and extended his clawed legs. With a heave, Jinx got him to his four feet and hovered anxiously by, while his elder stood, swaying, his tentacles limp and unnaturally still.

Koolorin made a rasping sound, and Jinx nodded. Although he could not speak his native tongue, he could still understand it. Koolorin had said, “I need the tank,” and Jinx helped his friend over to one side of the room. He touched a panel, and a long, low tank slid out. It was filled with seawater, and Koolorin slipped into it with a long, gusty sigh. He would replenish himself in the water, and regain his strength much more quickly in this way.

A faint sound caused Jinx to turn, and he saw that his captive was awake. Koolorin’s jolt had been an unusually powerful one, as evidenced by his current state, but the human had fared far worse, for he was still paralyzed, and likely would remain so for some little while. He stalked over to the table, where he stood glaring down at the murderer of a child-carrying female and felt the righteous fury swelling in his soul.

“This machine is called The Changer,” he said. “With this, I can transform your body into anything I wish.”

The human’s eyes widened with terror and his limbs quivered. Koolorin uttered a screech, and Jinx smiled when their captive shuddered at the sound.

“I can turn you into anything,” Jinx repeated, “even, as my friend just suggested, a fish. I could do that and let you go. You’d live out your life swimming free… or you might end up at the end of a hook.” Koolorin screeched again and Jinx laughed. “My friend here, urges me to make you into a fish. He is hungry.”

The human’s eyes bugged out and he tried to speak, but all he could manage was a dry rasping sound, deep in his throat.

“But it occurs to me that life as a fish – even a short life – is not enough punishment for your crimes. I shall have to think about it.”

He turned away and picked up the human’s gun. He examined it for a moment, running curious fingers over the barrel, enjoying the feel of the smoothness of the metal. Then he turned back to his captive, his eyes thoughtful.

With this weapon, he could easily rid the universe of this foul individual, and there were few, even among humans, who would call it anything but justice. The human on the table quivered and continued making frantic, terrified noises.

After pondering for a moment, Jinx laid the weapon aside. He had learned many things in the past weeks, and one of them was this: he was not a murderer.

Another mode of punishment would have to be found.