“I can’t pee here,” whispered Amber.
“Why not?” asked Lynn, who was squatting behind a tree stump.
“There might be a bear watching.” Amber gestured at the surrounding foliage. “You never know.”
“It’s a long way back to the car. Even longer to a toilet,” Lynn cautioned.
Amber shivered. “I just can’t go.”
Becky sighed and stole a glance at her watch. She leaned over the armrest to address her friend, Cindy. “This is the worst play ever,” she said, just loud enough for everyone around her to hear. The lack of “shushes” seemed to confirm that her opinion was a legitimate one.
Becky rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who said we needed more culture. Let me remind you that I suggested we see ‘Terror in the Sky 2’ in IMAX.”
“’Terror in the Sky 1’ wasn’t my favorite,” said Becky.
“I thought the original ‘Terror in the Sky’ was amazing,” said someone from behind them.
“Oh, look, it’s the Pope!” shouted Lynn.
“Oh my gosh.” said Cindy. “This is so bad.”
Becky had already turned around to face the conversation hijacker. ’Terror in the Sky’ is so overrated,” she insisted. “Now everyone is on the Terror-in-the-Sky train. It’s just a knock-off of ‘Deadly Visitors’.”
Tankorp laughed to himself and tapped his ventral tentacle lightly on the containment field separating him from the humans.
“Are they adapting well?” asked Velbu, as he approached his colleague from the Captain’s pod.
“They suspect nothing. The environmental replication filters are working perfectly,” said Tankorp. “With any luck we will have this batch back to Bartron 9 for the opening of the exhibit.”
Velbu leaned closer to the containment field. “That’s good. Very good. Verisimilitude in the behavior of the specimens is of the highest priority to the patrons. Do you have any other concerns?”
Tankorp placed his dorsal tentacle on Velbu’s headfin, a traditional gesture of honesty. “I am worried about the one called Amber. It does not seem able to vent its waste. That could lead to internal complications.”