ORIGINAL FICTION: "Climbers" (Chapter Sixteen)

just a lot we still don't know. Little things. Like what they are and where they came from, really."
"What do you mean, 'Where they came from? Like Africa? Asia?"
"I think we can safely rule out the major continents on this planet."
"Whoa, there, Gil. What are you saying?"
"I'm just saying that one of the theories is Off Planet Life Form."
"And it sounds to me like you said that with a straight face."
"Yeah, I did. But I'm not convinced."
"So where do you think they're from?"
"I have no idea. If they're terra indigenous, they should have died out completely by now. If they aren't, where are they coming from? How do they get here? Why are they here at all?"
"Ok, whoa. One thing at a time. You're saying that if they are something that occurs naturally, they should all be dead? Why?"
"Because there's a minimum survival threshold for every species. Below a certain number they can't reproduce fast enough to survive. Extinction. But these things have been around on several continents and a couple of big islands for at least fifty years. Only in very small numbers. Numbers too small to ensure survival in any other species. If climbers were anything else, they'd be dead and gone long ago."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning either they live very long lives or their number is being replenished from outside the ecosystem."
"Someone's dropping off their unwanted pets? Seems a bit of a drive."
"To us, maybe. And maybe they aren't pets. Maybe they're pests."
"So why not just shoot them and save the travel time?"
"Ray, did you every have a bird get in your house?"
"Yeah, once or twice."
"You shoot it?"
"No, of course not. That would be- oh. I see your point."
"Thought you might. Where ever these things are coming from must be a very interesting place indeed."
"Gilbert, you think they are still coming?"
"No. I don't know. I'm not really convinced that they're an off planet species. They're just weird."
"Yeah, they are that. Why are we chasing them?"
"Fatal human inquisitiveness."
"Great. I chase, therefore I am."
"No, more like: I am, therefore I chase."
"What happens when we catch?"
"Hey- I warned you once: Don't touch one. They're electric."
"Yeah, I remember. But didn't this Vaan guy touch one?"
"He grabbed one by the arm. Biggest mistake of his life."
"But he's still alive, right?"
"Oh, yeah. No doubt. He might even be back to sleeping nights, but I doubt it. I'll bet he stays up late, 'til maybe two or three in the morning, then sleeps in late each day. Probably doesn't get up before noon. He got quite a charge."
"So these things pack a wallop?"
"Like moray eels with legs. I'll say it again: Do not touch one. You've got to train yourself to never reach out in panic, fear or surprise. You can chase these things, but if they catch you the game changes."
"But you said they were harmless!"
"Mostly harmless. Steve didn't mean to catch it. He woke up, it was there, and he reached out. Zap City."
"And now he's a creature of the night?"
"No, no. That sounds too spooky-kooky. It just shook him up. Reset his internal clock, I guess. Then it didn't help that no one in his family ever saw a climber."
"They thought he was joking?"
"Joking is too nice a word for it. They thought he was clinically insane."
"But didn't he have any evidence?"
"Like what? A tail feather?"
"Oh, I don't know. A footprint- a bit of nail or claw, maybe a smeared print across a window?"
"Yeah, right. Doesn't happen. These things live in the trees, remember?"
"That's it? They stay in the trees?"
"Yep."
Ray felt that he was way ahead of the game. He had learned all he wanted to about the man