Please Do Not Taunt the Octopus Read Online Free

that big, with a tail that long, can leave bruises just by being happy to see you. The various interns we passed all gave Joe a wide berth, until we reached the lobby of the forestry center. Out of all the rooms in the building, this was the one we had changed the least. It was too big and too oddly shaped to be of use for much beyond storage and socialization, and we already had several storage rooms. Consequently, the lobby was where couches and chairs from the rest of the building went to die. They were shoved up against walls and curved into conversation pits, some of which were currently in use. I waved but didn’t approach. My people, no matter how much they liked me and appreciated my leadership, weren’t here to be my friends. All I’d do by approaching was make them uncomfortable.
    Heavy is the head that wears the crown. If you ask me—and why wouldn’t you ask me? I’m a genius—heavier yet are the shoulders that wear the lab coat. Everyone in this facility depended on me to keep them alive. If that meant I wasn’t invited to the Friday movie nights, well, so be it.
    Sometimes I really missed the days when Shaun Mason and his little band of fools had been in and out every time I turned around. Shaun had never been afraid of me. He’d been suffering from PTSD and obsessed with getting revenge for his dead sister, and most of his people should probably have quit and come to work for me, since at least I don’t hit, but he’d been fun . He’d been trying to make a place for himself in a world that doesn’t yield easily to people like us, and he’d been doing it while knowing exactly how broken he really was.
    I missed them all, honestly. Mahir and his frustrations, Alaric and his confusion, Becks—God, poor Becks—with her grudges and her resentments and her infinite potential. Even Maggie and Kelly had been interesting to talk to, in their own privileged ways. But I missed Shaun most of all. He’d been the one who reminded me most of myself, back in the early days, when there was nothing left for me but rage.
    I swiped my card at the reader next to the front door. It buzzed softly, a small tone that would also sound at each of our security stations. Then the door unlocked, and I let myself out into the sweet green loveliness of the Oregon afternoon.
    Mammals are pretty Johnny-come-lately in the natural world. Compared to plants and insects, we’ve been here for fifteen minutes, and we’re already fucking shit up. Removing the large mammals from the forests surrounding Shady Cove hadn’t done anything to hurt them. If anything, it had allowed the underbrush to achieve a level of lush health that the forest hadn’t known in centuries. We still got squirrels, rabbits, rats, and pre-amplification raccoons, as well as the occasional possum. One of the interns swore that she’d seen a bear, but until I saw some proof, I wasn’t going to worry about it. With as many cameras as we had around the edges of the building, “Pics or it didn’t happen” was a totally fair request.
    Joe’s nose immediately went to the ground, drinking in the scent of the day. I walked with him to the edge of the parking lot, where the woods began. Then I gave him a pat on the shoulder and tugged once on the back of his collar, re-creating the degree of pressure that would have accompanied unclipping a leash. Joe’s head came up, eyes bright with sudden excitement.
    “That’s right, good boy,” I said. “You’re off-leash. Go ahead and run around a little bit.”
    He didn’t need to be told twice. Tail wagging and ears pressed flat in canine excitement, Joe went bounding into the underbrush. The greenery rustled once, twice, three times, and he was gone, returning to the wilds that had created his ancestors.
    I stayed where I was, in the open space where the paving still held dominance and the forest had not yet taken back its original territory. We’d been at the forestry center long enough that we’d cleared out