Quofum by Alan Dean Foster

the gunwale and stared at the alien forest sliding past. Organically generated lights of all colors and patterns blinked madly on and off, dancing among trees and growths that were deserving of other names, some that the visitors would be forced to invent. The sight put her in mind of a city whose nighttime energy sources and society had been completely fractured. Though her tone was naturally and unavoidably sultry, her speech was fortified with confidence that bespoke a scientist who had been awarded several degrees from multiple sources.
    “For the moment and for the purposes of discussion only, suppose we grant N’kosi’s hyperfictional hypothesis a modicum of credibility. Where does it take us if we dare to carry it to its logical extreme?”
    Valnadireb’s bare feet made scraping sounds on the deck as he shifted his stance, rising up on all four trulegs. During the preceding days he had gained enough confidence to occasionally let go of the deck with his foothands.
    “In that case, the inescapable conclusion is both striking and appalling. If the four sentient types we have encountered are presumed to be introduced species, then it follows that they may not be alone.” Truhands and foothands joined in gesturing at the passing shore. “There may be others, floral as well as faunal.”
    “Which means,” Haviti went on, “that a great many of the life-forms we have observed and recorded, and not just the sentients, may not be native to this world.”
    “Or,” N’kosi murmured as he took the premise to its inexorable end, “none of them are.” He waved a hand at the water. “As I suggested, we may be recording the results of an experiment.”
    “The inhabitants of a zoo,” Valnadireb put in.
    “More like a circus,” Tellenberg finished.
    Once again silence descended on the boat as each of the scientists sank back into his or her own thoughts. Around them, the object of their intense meditation sang and swam, flew and squawked, crawled and clashed, and sought cover from their fellow inhabitants.
    If the biota of Quofum was not natural but introduced, Tellenberg found himself thinking furiously, had it been done casually? Or, as N’kosi proposed, with some purpose in mind? And if purpose, what? The latter implied a higher intelligence that was a master not only of biology but of improvisation. But if there was a purpose to species introduction on such a massive and inexplicable scale, why allow so many and such divergent life-forms to evolve and mature? Why not pursue a single chosen line, to some unknown, unimaginable end? The whole approach, exceedingly theoretical as it was, struck him as scattershot and futile, a waste of time and considerable resources. It was as if God were having a mental breakdown while making the world.
    Perhaps more than one originating intellect was involved. Maybe N’kosi’s imagined experiment was more of a contest. He thought of the games he had played as a child and still engaged in, albeit rarely. Had he and his companions inadvertently stepped into some kind of bio-evolutionary game being played by unknown intelligences? If so, assuming they were monitoring their experiment or game or ongoing work or whatever it might be, how would they react to the presence of uninvited eyewitnesses? Peering up at the night sky and the alien stars, he was suddenly even more uncomfortable than usual.
    Of course, he reminded himself firmly, all this was still nothing more than outrageous speculation. Like any thoughtful scientist, N’kosi had proffered a radical explanation in the absence of a more sensible one. The latter, based on the drastic but not untenable notion of radical evolution occurring under extraordinary and as yet undefined circumstances, was still the best extant explanation for everything they had seen. They had only been on Quofum for a few days. Wild tangents such as direct offworld intervention by an unknown intelligence might be proposed and discussed, but it was