Adaptive Radiation

"It's truly astounding," Brindel said.  "There are small cats and big cats; there are herbivorous cats; cats in the water chase after the nematodes; cats with skin flaps launch from fungal stalk to fungal stalk in the forest; cats have filled every gap in the local ecosystem.  Who knew it was possible to squeeze so much versatility out of one species?"

"When needs must..."  Her guide, Tomi, shrugged.
"And your people, they are descendants of the colonists on that original ship, the one that crashed and brought the cats?"

"Something like that," said Tomi.  She offered Brindel a bag.  "Mouse-puff?"

Prehistoric

An Apatosaurus had gotten clothes-lined by an unexpected traffic light. Police on fast-moving Ornithomimus arrived to restore order after a poorly trained Allosaurus took a bite out of the unfortunate herbivore. Jake scooted around the carnage in his tiny economy vehicle, whose gill structures were pulsing with agitation at the bloodscent. "Only a little longer on lungs, buddy," Jake said, patting his vehicle reassuringly.

"Hey," a hairy guy leaning out the cab of an Ultrasaurus called to Jake. "Is that one of them new hybrids?"

"Well, technically it's an old hybrid..." said Jake. "More efficient than those brand-new mammals, though."

Biological Niche

Staying late. The building was a lot more… empty after eight. Something made a scuttling noise in the darkness. Derek resolutely turned back to his spreadsheet and met two bulbous eyes staring into his own.

“Gah!”

“Yee!”

There was a thump, and Steve from Accounting fell onto his desk. “You scared me,” said Steve, rolling upright.

“What are you doing?”

“Foraging.” Steve flexed his hands, displaying the gecko-like pads at the tips. “I think I’m getting the hang of these. Soon I’ll be fully adapted, and I won’t even have to show up for work anymore. Cool, huh?”

Derek stared.

Can Humanity Survive?

There was a scratching at the window. Lilah ignored it. A pathetic yowl soon followed.

“No!” she said aloud. “No more food for you. You’ve ruined your last flowers. Get your handouts somewhere else, you pests!”

A series of meows distracted her from her work. She resolutely kept her gaze on the dishes. Then the tapping started. It was regular, almost patterned, like Morse Code. At last, Lilah gave in and looked up.

She met the startling blue eyes of an enormous Siamese. It lifted a single paw and placed it flat on the window, displaying the tiny, perfect thumb.