Ginge’s full attention was lock onto the target just a couple of feet ahead; his transfixed eyes were focused on a swirling pale yellow mist, a heavy mist held close against the ground, but moving sinuously within, almost but not quite a vapour, almost but not quite a liquid. just a yellow, sinuous mist containing millions of tiny particle units, like a miniature cloud of starlings, swooping and swirly in an ethereal ever changing cluster a cluster that one moment seemed to disperse towards the edges like tiny waves or eddies of water before reeling back upon and within itself; an ever changing density, ever changing shape, dancing rhythmically hypnotic movement.
Intelligence from the Tsarenz pod was now probing the unfamiliar surroundings, seeking refuge, seeking a host. Early reconnaissance had revealed an atmosphere containing high levels of oxygen, a highly corrosive gas which given time could reduce all complex matter back to its component parts. A safe refuge was needed and needed quickly. Short range telepathic sensors had already probed the earth – testing, tasting sensing the very life essences of a myriad life forms from the tiniest microbes that lived in the soil, to invertebrate earthworms, beetles and tiny slugs - all were eagerly sampled and analysed, but all were quickly discarded, deemed too primitive to be a long term host. The Tsaren scanners knew a host or hosts had to found and had to be found quickly, the atmosphere on this world, heavy with gaseous, corrosive oxygen would quickly weaken and dissolve there coloniser cloud..
Suddenly, imperceptibly the random swirls of yellow mist seemed to focus movement in one particular direction, like the tentacles of sea anemone, wafting too and fro at the will of invisible currents, only taking orderly command when a prey fish strays too close, wrapping in upon the unsuspecting victim drawing it deep within the devouring mass.
Ginge was transfixed, held almost stupefied by the hypnotic swirling shape before him, the combination of that sweet, musty, heavy scent and the mesmerizing dance held him transfixed, little by little his brain perceived something very familiar, the swirling mumuration little by little solidified, the fingers of mist previously clawing at the air, now came together in one direction, his direction. Gradually the seeking mist began changing colour, seemingly solidifying into a more unyielding form – a form that in Ginge's subconscious resembled a mouse.
The tip of Ginge's tail switched left and right, whiskers bristled, eyes bored into the mouse thing. Imperceptibly he adjusted his weight rising lightly onto his haunches, then with lightening speed he pounced.
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YOU ARE READING
The Seeding
Science FictionThey came to do what was expected: To Seed and Colonise. Billions were scattered - only a tiny percentage would find a viable, fertile home. One such seed fell to earth.
