The Circle

the octopus instantly spread itself up like a welcoming hand. As it had done
     when alone, ittraced the contours of the glass, feeling the coral, the seaweed, always gentle, wanting
     to know all, touch all.
    “Look at that. Ravishing,” Bailey said. “What a stunning creature. He must have something
     like a brain in that giant balloon of his, right?” And here Bailey turned to Stenton,
     asking for an answer, but Stenton chose to consider the question rhetorical. The slightest
     smile overtook the corner of his mouth, but he did not turn away from the scene before
     him.
    The octopus flowered and grew, and flew from one side of the tank to the other, barely
     touching the seahorses or any other living thing, only looking at them, only wanting
     to know them, and as he touched and measured everything within the tank, Mae saw movement
     again on the red ladder.
    “Now we have Victor and his helper bringing the real attraction,” Bailey said, watching
     the first caretaker, now joined by a second, also in white, who was manning some kind
     of forklift. The cargo was a large lucite box, and inside its temporary home, the
     shark thrashed a few times, its tail whipping left and right, but was far calmer than
     Mae had seen it before.
    From the top of the ladder, Victor arranged the lucite box on the surface of the water,
     and when Mae expected the octopus and seahorses to flee for cover, the shark went
     absolutely still.
    “Well, look at that,” Bailey marveled.
    The watchers spiked again, now to seventy-five million, and climbed frenetically,
     half a million every few seconds.
    Below, the octopus seemed oblivious to the shark and the possibility of it joining
     them in the aquarium. The shark was utterly frozen in place, perhaps negating the
     tank’s occupants’ ability to sense him.Meanwhile, Victor and his assistant had descended the ladder and Victor was returning
     with a large bucket.
    “As you can see now,” Bailey said, “the first thing Victor is doing is dropping some
     of our shark’s favorite food into the tank. This will keep him distracted and satisfied,
     and allow his new neighbors to get acclimated. Victor has been feeding the shark all
     day, so it should be well-satisfied already. But these tuna will serve as breakfast,
     lunch and dinner, in case he’s still hungry.”
    And so Victor dropped six large tuna, each ten pounds or more, into the tank, where
     they quickly explored their environs. “There’s less need to slowly acclimate these
     guys to the tank,” Bailey said. “They’ll be food pretty soon, so their happiness is
     less important than the shark’s. Ah, look at them go.” The tuna were shooting across
     the tank in diagonals, and their sudden presence chased the octopus and seahorse into
     the coral and fronds at the bottom of the aquarium. Soon though, the tuna became less
     frantic, and settled into an easy commute around the tank. At the bottom, the father
     seahorse was still invisible, but his many children could be seen, their tails wrapped
     around fronds and the tentacles of various anemones. It was a peaceful scene, and
     Mae found herself temporarily lost in it.
    “Well, this is plain gorgeous,” Bailey said, surveying the coral and vegetation in
     lemons and blues and burgundies. “Look at these happy creatures. A peaceable kingdom.
     Seems almost a shame to change it in any way,” he said. Mae glanced quickly to Bailey,
     and he seemed startled at what he’d said, knowing it was not in the spirit of the
     present endeavor. He and Stenton exchanged quick looks, and Bailey tried to recover.
    “But we’re striving here for a realistic and holistic look at thisworld,” he said. “And that means including
all
of the inhabitants of this ecosystem. So I’m getting an indication from Victor that
     it’s time to invite the shark to join.”
    Mae looked up to see Victor struggling to open the container’s bottom hatch. The shark
     was still holding still, a marvel of self-control. And then he began to slide down
     the lucite ramp. As he did, for a moment Mae was conflicted. She knew this was the
     natural thing to happen, his joining the rest of those with whom he shared his environment.
     She knew that it was right and inevitable. But for a moment, she thought it natural
     in a way seeing a plane fall from the sky can seem natural, too. The horror comes
     later.
    “Now, for the last piece of this underwater family,” Bailey said. “When the