Coconut Octopus

Octopuses? Thomas wrote.

The girl smiled. “Popular misconception. Logically, the plural is octopodes. Although publicly it’s still octopuses.” He rubbed the back of his head. Try to unearth the biggest scientific secret of the century, and all you end up with is a headache and a lesson in octopus plurals.

“Come with me, our secret is in here.” She was laughing at him?

He followed her through a wide door and into a glaring white chamber. As his eyes grew accustomed to the light he noticed boxes of blue and other bright colours dotting the room. Octopus tanks.

The girl strode towards the farthest wall, avoiding the tanks and other obstacles with ease. Thomas was not so lucky; His natural clumsiness asserted itself, and by the time he stood next to her, three items were displaced, and one was broken. He was vaguely aware of a white figure glaring at his back as it cleaned up the mess.

In front of them, a blank wall. The girl leaned into the wall and placed her eye in front of a hidden sensor. Slowly, the protective covering went up and what faced them was another octopus tank. “This is Hàixiū,” she said, putting her hand against the glass. Thomas spotted a small jellyfish-like shape in one corner. He pointed at it.

“Yes, that’s her. Hàixiū is Chinese for ‘shy’.”

A small squeak came from the corner of the room. Thomas turned and saw a silver-rimmed octopus tank with a young man standing in front of it, looking like something from a black-and-white movie. His skin was pale, almost white, and his clothes were black and grey. He squeaked at the octopus in front of him, and leant close to the tank, whispering like the breeze on a cold day. Thomas pointed at him and looked inquisitively at the girl.

“Hàorán. He’s a little mad,” she explained, lowering her voice. “Ever since he came here he’s been whispering to Kuàisù, his octopus. He seems to think that Kuàisù can learn to talk.” Thomas glanced back at Hàorán and wondered…

A man of about twenty walked in. “There you are Mimi. It’s time for Hàixiū’s injection.”

“Just a moment, Hui. Our journalist needs something to write about. Is it okay if he stays?” Hui nodded.

They put on gloves and found equipment while Thomas watched, occasionally glancing back at the tank. Hàixiū didn’t move.

“Turn on the Mush,” said Mimi. Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Just watch, it will explain itself.” Hui pressed a button on another wall and Thomas waited for something to happen.

Mimi pulled her gloves above her elbows and stretched her arms towards the tank. Thomas stared. Mush. Her hands just sank through it, the glass melting and moulding around them. The octopus flew - right to the other end of the tank.

“Come back here, you little monster,” Mimi said playfully. Hàixiū refused to come nearer, waiting until Mimi was just close enough to touch an arm with her fingertips before jetting away, pointing her suckers at them. And that’s what you are, she seemed to say. Not so much shy as cheeky, Thomas thought.

Hui talked while Mimi chased the elusive Hàixiū around the tank. “We take them out every day and inject them with Systimosin. It’s a kind of stimulant.”

“Got you!” said Mimi, grabbing hold of an arm and struggling to hold her still. “Hurry up Hui, she’s really strong.”

“Coming, coming.” He passed her a syringe filled with a thick, colourless liquid. “It was developed for the first time in this lab a few weeks ago. It supplies new connections in the octopodes’ brain, making it smarter. We’re also expecting it to give them a longer life span.”

Mimi injected the liquid into Hàixiū’s arm, then let go of her. “She’s developing faster than the others. They’re all developing faster than I expected.” Hui laughed.

“If you have any questions, ask Mimi. She’s the biggest octopus expert around here. I’m just the assistant.” Something is his voice - in the words he spoke? The way he spoke? - hit Thomas like a wave. He’d always been sensitive to emotions. If you don’t talk, you get to listen longer. And words aren’t the only thing you can listen to.

He put up a hand, aWait, please sign; He wanted to write. He hoped his face would say what his hands couldn’t. He’d never been the best at polite talk. Or impolite talk.

Somehow they understood. Hui left. Mimi waited, then began walking him round a tour again, stopping at each new tank to add a special comment about the octopus inside.

“Each octopus is different,” she explained, “They each have their own personalities. This is Yonggan,” as they neared another tank where an octopus was attached to the glass. “We joke that he’s Hàixiū’s soulmate, the two are exact opposites. Yonggan is very playful; He loves new people. We expected him to develop the fastest, but Nature never makes things easy.” Thomas nodded and bent over his notebook as they walked on. “They’re each named after their most prominent traits, it makes them easier to place and helps when we forget which name is attached to which octopus.” He nodded again.

They walked on, carefully avoiding Hàorán’s corner, where he continued whispering to Kuàisù, ignoring them completely, or just not seeing them.

“Remember, this is top-secret work. No leaks,” Mimi said. Thomas rolled his eyes. I’m a journalist. Whatever I see, the public sees. Suddenly he bent over his notebook, writing something and ripping it out to show her.

"What if one of the scientists leak?” She read. “That’s simple; They wouldn’t. I would trust any one of my crew with my life. We all trust each other.” Thomas wasn’t satisfied, but he kept quiet as they moved to the next tank.

“And this is Xiaochou, the clown. You wouldn’t think that he was nocturnal, would you?” Xiaochou was currently doing octopus backflips, front flips, and side flips.

“We always use Amphioctopus marginatus, the Coconut or Veined octopus, for our experiments. We tried using other types, but Systimosin doesn’t create intelligence, it just increases what’s already there, so they either showed no signs of developing or died when we tried increasing the dose.”

Thomas was confused. Surely she was fond of the creatures after working with them for weeks, but he couldn’t detect any emotions from her when she talked of their deaths.

“The government decided that it was too damaging to risk too many tests, so they only granted permission for 10 octopodes, 5 tests each. It’s at the edge of our limit; If an octopus died now...” She shivered. “Well, hopefully all goes to - ”

“Hàixiū is out!” The steady thud of feet on the spotless white floor, squeaks, squeals and more shouting. Only Hàorán stayed where he was, a surprised but smug grin on his face. Why, Thomas wondered. Somehow, the alleged madman fascinated him.

He followed Mimi back to Hàixiū’s tank, notebook forgotten, where a group of teuthologists stood in a loose circle, talking. He caught a few words. “- before we expected.”

“She’s certainly developing fast,” Mimi commented, “She wasn’t scheduled to escape for a few weeks.” Nobody seemed panicked. In fact, nobody was even looking for Hàixiū. It was as if they all knew that she would be back soon, like she was a colleague who had just gone out for a coffee and would return in a few minutes. Thomas stood awkwardly behind the group, staring absent-mindedly into Hàixiū’s empty tank.

“Hui?” Mimi called. Hui walked in and looked at her expectantly. “She should be near the vent in the test room, could you bring her in please?” Hui nodded and left.

He returned a minute later with a frozen look of panic on his face. “She’s not there.”

No one knew what to do. The chances of her not doing what they expected were a thousand to one. They froze.

Suddenly everyone was moving, and Thomas watched with an amused smile. This is what happens when you become too logical, he thought. Resuming his watch on the tank, he let his mind roam, headlines and front-page news drifting in and out of his consciousness.

“Where could she be?” “What’s happened to her?” “What if she’s got out?” “Why didn’t we calculate correctly?” People zipping back and forth, searching the rooms, searching the vents, making more calculations and searching again.

Half an hour later, the panic was broken, the problem still unsolved. In place of blind frenzy came desperation for some, depression for others. Some were sitting cross-legged on the floor, crying, knowing that Hàixiū was already dead, some continued stubbornly searching. Thomas was still glued to the glass, trying to appear oblivious to his surroundings, overwhelmed with the emotions that flooded the lab. A single octopus meant so much to them. In the passageway, a man was on his knees, praying.

As Thomas stared through the tank, something caught his eye. “Mimi,” he shouted, realising he didn’t know her last name. His voice was scratchy and thick with disuse. She lifted her head from her hands and looked around, unsure of who was calling her. “She’s here.”

Everyone crowded around him, following his finger to the small jellyfish-like shape in the corner. Mimi squealed with relief. Hui and another man slapped each other on the back. Tears were forgotten, driven away by almost hysterical laughter.

Thomas was confused, alone in his thoughts. Hàixiū had always been there; She hadn’t moved from when he first entered the room. And throughout the commotion that had followed her ‘disappearance’, no one had admitted coming near the tank. ‘Hàixiū is out’...

Safe in his corner, Hàorán laughed. Kuàisù had proved his worth.