A small comfort. Very small.

Our search brought forth one more clue… a tattered tunic of lime green, very large, with WEMS spelled across the chest. I turned it over carefully, checking for clues to what might have become of the security crewman, but there were none that I could see.

Then I tried using the garment’s built-in transmitter to contact Commander Talon, on the Clever Gamble.

No luck. My ear nanos conveyed only space static.

Something terrible must have happened to the ship. Because my crewmates would never leave comrades stranded below for so long. Say what you will about demmies; but most of them are loyal to a fault.

I’ve got to find out what’s going on!

No choice then, but to head into the town proper, accompanied by Moulder and Sully. In order to seek aid from one of the local dignitaries.

The apparently renowned “Professor Ping.”

I had to revise my earlier notion about social arrangements in the city that only yesterday (without the inhabitants’ permission or knowledge) was renamed “Squid.” So far, I had encountered four sub-species of humanoids on this world, comingling in a complex life cycle, with some of them treating others as prey. A place where – as I’ve said – paranoia seemed quite justified.

Nevertheless, the various types weren’t at war. Not exactly.

True, the city showed signs, everywhere, of profound efforts at self defense. Like those huge, ominous nets, spanning open spaces. High concrete walls, topped with razor wire, ran along the riverbank, dividing downtown from the park/cemetery area, turning the broad stream into a moat. Watchtowers overlooked several gated bridges.

Yet, despite the backdrop of predation and mutual mayhem, it was remarkably easy to enter the city proper. No one stopped us, or even scrutinized passersby, as we ambled across one of the spans into the main commercial zone. At the city end, formidable barriers had swung aside on hinges, apparently unneeded by daylight. Motor traffic rushed past us in both directions.

I wondered – could the local interspecies asperity be limited only to night? Was it simply a matter of bad luck (and demmie impatience) that Captain Ohm had us slurry down to this metropolis so late in the day?

Standards swarmed the streets and canals of Squid City, busy at trades and industry. Making, buying and selling things. Bickering, talking, raising their young. Doing all the normal things of civilization. Yet, amid the throng I also glimpsed a few of the predatory types – always given plenty of room by the Standards, who stepped aside out of reflex. As if the protection of daylight could only be trusted so far.