"What's your name? Do you want to play?" Anita was seven. It was her way to meet new friends. But the creature in the sand looked at her blankly.

"Play? What is play?"

"Oh, you know, have fun! Don't you know how to have fun?"

The creature was half hidden in the sand. When Anita came closer, she saw something strange. Something that made her little heart beat faster.

"You are an animal?" She asked. "Wanna be my pet?"

Her new friend looked like a giant, blue cutworm. It was about half a meter long and it had long, soft fur.

"Explain pet," the cutworm demanded. Anita reached out with her hands but the creature moved away rapidly.

"Don't be afraid," she scolded the cutworm and

touched its fur. It was indeed soft like silk. She caressed and petted it. The cutworm stretched itself with pleasure.

"See?" Anita was happy. "That's what pets are for. I'll take you home and give you food and take care of you. And I'll be hugging you and telling you goodnight stories! Do you have a name?"

"Name?" For such a lovely pet, the cutworm was surprisingly dumb.

"How should I call you?"

"Taark," the creature replied slowly. "You can call me Taark."

* * *

"The expedition is going to be extremely dangerous, commander," the admiral was sitting behind his huge, wooden desk, puffing a pipe. The fragrant smoke filled the room." You're not to make any contact yet. Your task is to observe the Pouli population, preferably from some distance. There's no telling what they might do to you if they discovered you. From what we've seen so far, they're not developed enough."

The commander nodded slowly. The admiral's office was hardly a place to express one's opinions. However, he couldn't stop himself. He only hoped to be pardoned, because of the extraordinary circumstances. He was about to lead the first expedition to the Pouli system. Surely this must give him some position.

"May I ask, sir," he began shyly. "Since the Pouli are not ready for the contact, why do we launch the mission in the first place?"

"That's a good question, commander." Admiral Oranis smiled generously, gesturing for the commander to take a sit. He did, with reverence. This was getting more and more unusual.

Commander Morrus was young and brilliant. Same as just about anyone who managed to graduate Spaceflight Academy – the biggest and the best University on the planet. What made him special was his unique ability to deal with… children. During his studies he would occasionally engage in providing care for the young, whose parents wanted a night off. It helped him survive and it made him happy. Back then, he had no idea that one day this skill would bring him the greatest honor of leading a new mission.

Oranis refilled his pipe and hustled about for a lighter. Morrus was faster. He picked his own silver lighter his mother had given him and passed it to the admiral. Oranis nodded with appreciation and focused on the ritual of lighting his pipe. Finally, he puffed the smoke with satisfaction and handed the lighter back to Morrus.

"Thank you," he said. "You see," he began after another pause filled with more smoke. "The Pouli are a very promising race. As you well know, we have been observing them for a long time now."

Morrus nodded. He remembered his lessons in the Academy but of course, he wouldn't even dream of interrupting the admiral.

"They have had some rough moments in their history, almost wiped themselves out on a few occasions, actually, but they always managed to get a hold of themselves in time. Their technological development is progressing at a fascinating speed. However, their social maturity still leaves a lot to wish for." Oranis paused to contemplate his pipe again. Or maybe to give the commander some time to reflect on what he just heard. It was late and Morrus thought he'd like to be home already. His wife, Croanti, must be worried.

"Anyway," the admiral was feeling extremely talkative this evening. "We need to gather more information. A race with so much potential and so little… how to put this… savoir-faire might be dangerous. Your mission, commander, is to establish if and when we may start worrying about their ships crossing our space. And, more importantly, if they will have understood by then that they're not alone in the universe.

* * *

The evening was beautiful. It wasn't raining and the temperature was just right. Morrus decided to take a stroll home. He needed time to think about his new assignment. *Leading an observatory mission!* He thought with awe. *I'm lucky!*

He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost missed the turn to his house. At the last moment he twisted his long body and managed to hit the right tunnel. His long, blue fur waved in the wind as he was sliding down the pipe towards his house.

* * *

"Come in here! Quick!" Anita was trying to make Taark hide in the wardrobe. Her parents were coming home and she had a strange feeling they wouldn't be happy about her new friend. After all, they never even let her keep a dog.

"Why would I need to go there? It's dark," the cutworm complained.

"I'll explain later, now just go! You'll be safe there!"

Taark evidently wanted to say something else about being locked in strange, dark places but Anita, hearing her mother climb the stairs, lost her patience. She took Taark unceremoniously by his lovely fur and virtually threw him inside. She managed to shut the wardrobe door in the last moment before the door opened.

"Hello, Mommy," Anita grinned innocently. "Did you have a good time at the cinema?"

"I did, sweetie," a woman of about thirty five replied with a smile. She opened up her arms and Anita glued herself to her with all her might. It felt so warm and soft to be in her Mom's hug.

"Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did," Anita replied pulling at her mother's long hair. "You were out too long!"

"Will you tell me what you played?"

Anita already opened her mouth to tell her Mommy all about Taark, how he was lost and beautiful and how his fur was shining but she stopped herself.

"Nothing special," she said instead. "Just walking and collecting sticks. Wanna see?" She asked, knowing very well that her mother wouldn't be interested in her collection of unusual sticks.

"Not now, honey," the woman smiled and got up. "You'll show me everything tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, Mom," the girl said, relieved.

"Now, it's time for bed. Quickly, give me a kiss and I'll come back to tug you in."