Married to Krampus - Marina Simcoe Page 0,64

skinny antennae, extended from the very center of the “tire.” As it rolled on its way, hundreds of small black feet where the traction on the tire would be propelled it along.

“The eyeballs of Bilgro Uchoit are suspended in liquid inside its sealed eyelids. When the animal is moving, its body rotates. However, the eyeballs remain stationary, floating in the clear eyelid capsule.”

“This one is probably the most bizarre one of all.” I gaped at the black, puffy “tires” rolling up and down grassy hills inside their enclosure.

“You said that about the last one, too,” Olvar reminded.

Zun found it exceptionally funny for some reason, tossing his head back and laughing exaggeratedly loud.

“The last one was super weird, too,” I agreed, remembering the fuzzy orange spiral on six legs. It had expanded, like a released spring, to eat leaves off the tree branches with its mouth located at the higher end of the spring. “Now, I’m confused which one is the most bizarre, to be honest.”

“Well, it says here,” the Colonel pointed at a holographic display in front of the enclosure, “that Bilgro Uchoit obtain nourishment by absorbing nutrients from the dirt with their feet as they move around. So, would that make them half-plant, half-animal?”

“Not sure,” I giggled. “But it definitely just made them the most bizarre beings in my book.”

For a snack, we bought some fruit that looked like a long juicy string curled into a multi-colored spiral.

“Ready to go home?” the Colonel asked as we circled the last glass dome.

The boys were acting much more subdued now, obviously getting tired after the long day of fun.

“The new, limited time exhibition is just ahead,” the guide drone informed us. “If you take the north exit to the parking area, you can see it on your way out.”

“Can we, please?” Olvar perked up.

“I’m tired,” Zun complained.

“What do you think?” The Colonel turned to me.

I shrugged. “Well, since it’s on the way, why not? We need to get to the parking garage, anyway.”

The Colonel lifted Zun onto his shoulders, and the boy grabbed on to his dad’s horns with both hands, like onto the handle bars of a bike.

“Let’s go then.”

The drone led us through yet another walkway under an arched glass roof. A large crowd gathered inside the next glass dome.

“What’s there?” Olvar hopped around me, trying to see between the people.

“Something big,” Zun replied. Sitting on his dad’s shoulders, he had the best vantage point. “It’s moving.”

With the hard expression of authority forever etched on his face, the Colonel moved through the crowd with ease, making it part for us. I followed in his wake, firmly holding Olvar by his hand. The boy didn’t particularly like being led this way, “like a baby” in his own words. With this many people, however, it would be impossibly hard to locate a five-year-old child if he wondered off.

The “something big” turned out to be the “space blob,” like one to those I saw attacking the Colonel in the video he had sent to me.

A fescod.

This one seemed even bigger in person than in the video. Its shapeless bulk hulked over the crowd. Skinny protrusions with eyeballs and pincers randomly appeared and disappeared from his body.

Fear ran down my arms in goosebumps when I thought about the Colonel having to face several of them, all on his own.

The creature was on a low platform, surrounded by a glowing metal barrier set with sharp spikes. He appeared agitated, lunging at the barrier with force. Every time the glow touched his concrete-gray skin, it sparked, leaving black scorch marks on his body. The spikes left pale welts on his sides.

He didn’t yell, roar or howl, though I was certain the barrier was causing him pain. The complete silence from the fescod was eerie and unsettling, especially in contrast with the lively noise of the crowd. The Voranians idly walked by, pausing to take a look at one of the beings who’d invaded their planet and lost.

All battles of that war had been fought far away from the City of Voran, I’d learned. For most people under the dome right now, the fescod was not much more than a curious creature, very much like the rest of the exhibits in the Zoo.

“What’s that?” Olvar asked, attempting to step closer to the barrier. I held onto his hand tighter, drawing him back to me.

“It’s a fescod, the species your father fought in the war. Right?” I glanced back at the Colonel for confirmation.

He stared at the