Journal entry: 2 Date: Day 1 I guess Name: Greg George

Mission successful, by flim-flam-golly gosh! I am the God-damned master of skulkery. Hell yeah. Dr. Johan says that it's important to be honest with your feelings in your sanity journal, and I feel like gloating.

So first thing is the door. The Bleivuses are tall. TALL. Come to think of it the girl from the cell incident towered over me while I was huddled in the corner. I know it was a kennel, but calling it a cell makes me feel better. Dr. Johan isn't here to be disappointed in me, so I'm going to keep calling it a cell. Shut up internal therapist voice. Anyway, door. I think that Bleivus girl would have to reach up to about her shoulder level to grab the door handle. I had to hop. Now this being the first time I was fully sober AND trying to move deliberately, I did a normal hop. This was an error.

I flipping flew up to the top of the doorjamb. I was so surprised that I grabbed the trim and just hung there for a second, and only thought about drop ambushing my hosts and shouting "BOO!" at them for a little bit. I allowed myself a quiet chuckle, habits and all that, and dropped down to the floor, grabbing the handle on the way down. Hell yeah. Took a minute to examine the door, and it looks like a normal hollow door with a spring loaded latch. I couldn't find a lock, but if this highly advanced alien society has figured out screwdrivers, then that could very easily change. I'll need a contingency. Objective added: Find long thin ridged object.

Outside was a hallway, and a glance down toward the open archway got a very clear view of what looked very much like a cartoon. I couldn't tell what was going on, but 2D stylized Blievus was making a bunch of humming and clicking noises in what seemed like a rhythm. I could see the outline of a Blievus in front of the... uh I guess it's a TV. Although from there it seemed like there was actual depth to the cartoon. As interesting as alien educational cartoons and how freaking weird they looked when I moved from side to side were, I was more interested in the four doors before me going down the hall; there were two on the left and two on the right.

Door number one on the left was obviously a bathroom, if the big, glistening pastel pink tub with a spout sticking out of the wall directly across the door was anything to go by. When I stepped across the threshold, the change in texture from slightly rough and a little giving to polished and slick prompted me to look at the floor. Either the floor in the hall was wood or some kind of high tech substitute, where the bathroom felt like some kind of enameled metal. It was cold like enameled metal anyway. To the right was a basin that stood just above my outstretched fingertips, and I could see there was some kind of spout and a handle to either side, so I was pretty sure it was the sink, and to the left there was a long depression in the floor with standing water at the bottom and a button on the wall at just about my eye level on the wall behind it. Great, I'll have to squat for the necessaries. Anyway, I didn't feel like rooting around in the cabinets and drawers along the sink wall, so I just fiddled with the lever over the tub spout. Contrary to all good sense, pushing the lever toward the wall got the water running, and turning it to the right was for hot water. Insane. I shut the tap off without trying to figure out how to divert the water to the shower head in slotted bracket on the wall. It looked like it was meant to be used as a wand or shower head, but without jumping up to grab it, it was useless to me.

A glance down the hall told me that nobody was suspicious, or coming to check on the puppy, or going to the bathroom. Putting me in the back of the hall was actually tactically sound of the Bleivuses, since I'd have to creep by every potentially occupied space. Somehow I doubt they did that on purpose. The Bleivus outline was kind of slumped, like they were bored of the show. I feel you kid, I remember waiting for the crappy kiddie show to end so the proper cartoons can start. Sympathies aside, it was time to try door on the right number one. This turned out to be the master bedroom. Well, there was a massive bed dominating the space, and the massive floor to ceiling chest of drawers and wardrobe along the wall opposite the foot of the bed. A minor detail that I found just a teensey bit disquieting was the overhead storage cabinets on the other walls including the door-side wall. I decided not to root though the tidy room because obviously they'd notice and I hadn't decided whether I was behind enemy lines or not.

I just backed out into the hall and shot a glance toward the end to make sure the bored outline was still slumped toward the weird TV, and then a glance upward to confirm my suspicions. Yup. That was more overhead storage. It was starting to feel like I'm in an alien RV, which had implications I'd worry about after completing my current mission. Door number two on the left was much more promising. Untidy and festooned with plastic and plush objects I was pretty sure were toys. Maybe the Bleivus girl was a toddler? Well if she was, she had rapidly outgrown her clothes, since when I picked up a pair of what were probably pajama trousers from the neatly folded pile of clothes on the rumpled bed set into the wall, I noticed that they'd fit me. Well, they were far from a perfect fit, since the cuffs rode at about halfway between my knees and ankles, were a tad tight about my thighs, and had an uncomfortable draft about the back on account of the hole for the kid's tail. So I followed my training and yoinked a second pair to wear backwards. Problem solved with the minimal effort. I dropped my blanket to be able to move more freely, but got chilly while searching for anything that would fit my secondary mission objective. Another easy solution, all I had to do was nab the soft shirt at the top of the pile. I pulled the extra sleeves inside the shirt for obvious reasons, and went to rummage through the cabinmates and drawers built into the walls, as well as the other berth, which was apparently just a place for more stuffed toys. I don't care how silly I looked in toddler pajamas, they were soft, warm, and didn't drag on the ground like my trusty blanket, all of which were important on account of my lack of proper underpants, how chilly they kept the place, and my desire to sneakify.

Door number two on the right was obviously Bleivus girl's room. There was only one berth, and any cabinet door big enough had a poster of the same group of five male Bleivuses in tattered clothes, gaudy bling, and making aggressively stupid poses toward the camera. God save me, my rescuer is into alien boy bands. I hope they don't suck as bad as Earth boy bands. I gave her room a once over, but I don't find anything immediately useful, but apparently she was into sketching, if the supplies piled haphazardly on the desk against the wall opposite to the door was anything to go by. I don't know how they judge talent in her culture, but I thought she was a talented thirteen year old or so. I'm glad to find the supplies since it means that her parents cared enough to encourage her talent and interests, which boded well for my treatment. God, I hope this isn't a sick joke or dream or whatever before I get chucked back into the arena.

Whatever. Time to take my cheeky peeky for the sneaki breeki. So looks like the bored kiddo is sitting on the floor in front of the weird TV still. Holy crap the thing was stupidly huge. Like takes up half of the fucking wall huge, and the room in front of me was like five yards wider than the left and right side rooms, plus the hallway combined! Oh, and on either side of the hallway were these huge ass sofas, which was convenient for me because the likewise huge space between their backs and the wall was perfectly me wriggling sized. This way, I could avoid Bleivus mom, or Mom because that's shorter, who was keeping half an eye on the toddler from the other sofa. I went right and peered out from the shadows to gauge my prospects. The dad one was doing something with what looked like a holographic interface at a desk tucked into the corner to my left. He looked pretty intent, so whatever he was working on must have been important to him. To my right, there was a long table with a bunch of Bleivus sized chairs around it. I tensed, and sprang forward, but on a shallow angle. I am a stealth god in low G. I was in the open less than a second and was able to quietly roll to a stop without even jostling one of the chairs.

At the other end of the table, I saw my next challenge, Bleivus girl, who I've decided to henceforth call Lucy on account of it's the first girl name that popped up. I'm fresh out of standard issue crayons, and she's doing something, going between what looks a lot like a kitchen sink and a cooktop. The only cabinet with seals around the doors was just a little bit obviously the fridge, and my best bet for something edible. A stealthy glance upward, and I could see more overhead cabinets with nice, big, sturdy looking handles. Nice. Ever so slowly, I crept for the fridge, and upon opening the left side, found it full of fruit with a spattering of vegetables. At least the colorful round things looked vaguely fruity to me. Promising. Thinking quickly, I tied the ends of the extra sleeves shut for some makeshift pockets and stuffed half a dozen different fruits down them (I avoided the foul smelling ones, and let the fridge close with a light thump. Lucy heard it and looked in time to stare at the fridge in puzzlement while I laid on the seats of the chairs to be more deeply shadowed. When she turned back to whatever she was up to, I slunk over to the other end of the table to check on the dad. He hadn't even noticed.

By the time I was at the kitchen end, Lucy had poured something into a wide, shallow bowl and was carrying it toward the TV area, so it was a perfect opportunity for me to see if there was anything useful laying loose. One quick hop onto the table later, and I saw gold. A yellow plastic knife, not a disposable one, but one of those ones for little kids to practice using silverware with. Which means that it won't be missed and if it's found in my closet the toddler will get the blame and face no trouble for it. Probably. I briefly thought about arming myself, but rejected it on the grounds that a kitchen knife going missing would be a big deal. It was easy for me to silently leap the gap from the table and collect my prize, but I wasn't home free yet. The cartoon noises stopped, and agitated humming, buzzing and clicking started. I could tell it was agitated because the dad tore his attention away from his holograms and joined in the noise party. Fortunately, I'd leaped up to grab one of those handles the second the noise profile had changed, so I escaped his notice.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I shimmied from cabinet handle to cabinet handle like I was Prince of God-damned Persia, giddy with my low G capabilities, until I could sort of angle to see a family meeting going on. Lucy looked upset, her arms were waving around, and she was clutching my blanket in one of her hands while Mom made slower humming and buzzing noises and placating gestures with all four hands. Then, the dad pointed at the door and said something with a confident posture, while the toddler, Linus because it goes with Lucy, seemed on the verge of tears. I was starting to feel a tad bit guilty, but Lucy calmed down and bobbed her head up and down right before they all broke up and started looking around. The funny thing is, all four of them were looking down low, and on Earth that would have definitely been the thing to do because lurking about the overhead storage was a downright feat of strength in 1G. However due to factors they had no way of knowing, I was able to swing from handle to handle all the way back into the hallway, where it was just a matter of waiting a few seconds for Lucy and Linus to scamper from the bathroom to his room. Then it was a simple matter of dropping to the floor and stepping through the conveniently open closet door. Lucy had even helpfully put my blanket on my pillow for me. Mission successful. Hell yeah.

Log: 6000000.8.20, Personal, Captain Yormdrill

Today was rough. Stars save us what some people will do to other living creatures, it's enough to turn the stomach. So we got the poor creature squared away in the old storage closet, which frankly should have been cleared out years ago, but I put it off just in case I might need a tea tin full of mismatched fasteners, or a docubox full of old robotics papermags. Well tossing the mags hurt just a little, but they were in such poor condition there was no point in keeping them. But I'm going off on a tangent. Sweetie, I know you're reading this, so I'm going to give you a warning: it was really really bad, and you'll see why Mom and I didn't tell you about it. I started with the medical report from the shelter's initial scan. Bruising all over its face, arms and torso, and even some to its knees and the tops of its feet. Its hands had repeated microfractures, as did its ribs and forearms and kneecaps. I was honestly shocked it didn't die from the pain of so many repeated blunt trauma injuries. It seemed like its saving grace is how dense its bones are. I'm a pilot and captain, not a biologist, but any blow with that much bruises I've ever seen has broken bones. But worse is that it had electrical burns about its neck.

There were some details that might be useful in making the poor creature comfortable, such as the shelter theorizing that it had omnivore dentation and digestion. Hopefully we have something on hand that it can digest, and finding it is Trandi's mission. She's starting with making vumnoon since it's usually for the infirm. I warned her that her fist try might not be successful, and she assured me that she wouldn't give up after one try. Some other interesting things: apparently it secretes oils on its skin, so regular bathing will be needed, it can self regulate by secreting saline, indicating it is adapted to warm environments or sustained exertion. So maybe we should get it more blankets, I guess? I'm not an expert in this kind of thing.

Then, I watched part of this

[Imbedded video:]

The video was from the perspective of a helmet camera, so the officer's manipulator appendages gripping a stun rifle were in view, in this case a trio of tentacles with three appendages at the ends. The camera showed the officer in the middle of a stack up for a door breach in a dynamic entry as somebody counted down from five from out of view. There was a muted boom as the door was blown open and the stack filed in screaming variations on "GET ON THE GROUND DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" Once the squad spread out, the camera got a view of the room, which was a lattice of walkways surrounding pits in the floor about four feet square by ten feet deep. "GRAV GRAV GRAV: 2X STANDARD MOVE WITH CAUTION," but the officers seemed to be able to move at a great enough speed to quickly incapacitate the group of googly eyed bipedal lizard gangsters. The officer looked into one of the pits and the camera showed a quadrupedal mammal with large curled horns and a long split tail up to its ankles in cleaning solution, struggling to stand on obviously swollen legs. It bleated in distress and the officer lost his lunch on the floor.

[End video]

I really couldn't bear to see the creature we adopted in those conditions, so I stopped it there. Just knowing that a living being that had endured such fetid conditions was harrowing enough. However, things got even more stressful when Trandi went to try to feed it, and it had vanished from the storage closet. She was distraught, nearly in tears, and clutching the blanket from the shelter.

"Daddy he's just gone, I looked in the rooms already! What if he's hurt himself?! What if he's trapped?! He's probably scared and all alone!"

Yoivdrill was starting to get upset too, and I could see the tears welling up, but Trevdi came in clutch like the wonderful mother she is, "He's in a new place, sweetie. He probably just wanted a look around, and think about how little he is, he could be taking a nap pretty much anywhere and be hard to notice."

"Besides," I interjected, hoping to add a little stability, "it can't get through the bulkhead since a biometrics scan won't work."

She stiffened her lip and shook the tears from her eyes and said, "Okay, small. I'll take Yoivdrill and we'll check the cabinmates and cubby holes. Maybe he wanted a smaller den."

Clever girl. Trevdi and I searched the living and kitchen areas, and I got an earful. "I know what you're doing," she chided me gently.

Gently, but still I bristled, "So what am I doing? Because I think I'm looking under the table for Trandi's pet."

"Heart, you know what you're doing, and you know I don't mean physically right now. Is that how our children should deal with taking on something painful?"

"You know why I was against pets at all, and this... stars Trevdi, it was brutal."

"And how does remaining detached change that?"

"All right, all right. I certainly don't want to be a cold example, but I..."

"My love, I do not expect you to go cuddle him in his den. Just try calling him a he and not an it."

"You are right, and I think I can manage that much."

"Mom, Daddy, he's not anywhere!"

We made our way back to the hallway to help the kids to a more thorough check, and what did we see? What else besides the creature sleeping on his bed under that blanket from the shelter?! "Void take me!"

"Daddy said a bad word!" Yoivdrill very helpfully pointed out.

"I think that door needs a lock," I mused, "I don't think I can handle a scare like that again."

Well, everyone knows how that argument went, I'm sure we all think it was memorable. Me against Trandi in her first real argument, and her opponent not going easy on her, and in regards to her Halfway Gift no less. For the record, you did very well and you did get me to concede that cooping him up in there would be needlessly cruel, which is why you were in charge of when it's locked or unlocked.

Dear Diary,

I don't think I like growing up anymore. Like you spend your whole little years looking forward to your Halfway Gift, but it's not just getting something cool or cute or whatever. You have to take care of it. I thought I understood, but now I know better. Today was the scariest thing that ever happened in my whole life ever.

So yesterday was my Halfway and we were on station so Mom could do her thing, she and Daddy were pretty happy so I think the cargo she sold here went for a good price. Anyway, Daddy's trying to get me to go to the robot store, but he's the one who likes robots, not me. I mean, I like working on some of the maintenance bots with him, but that's 'cause it's fun to work with Daddy, not the stupid robot stuck in a crawlspace again. So anyway, Mom finally convinced him that I should have a pet since a living thing can love you back, unlike a dumb robot.

The shelter was really sad, and I don't know why but I wanted to look at the adult animals first. I just think it's that people always want the babies, but sometimes the grown-up animals never leave. Some of them were trying to scare us away from the kennels, so I knew Daddy would say no to them. But then I saw him, I learned he was a him a little later but that doesn't matter. He just had the cutest face, the right number of eyes, round ears, a pretty pink skin except for some dark splotches on his cheeks and around one eye, and like this red mane of hair. I couldn't really see anything else since he was all cocooned in the blanket the shelter gave him.

The shelter guy said that NOBODY could even get close to him, but he looked so sad that I just had to try. The let me in and not only did he NOT run away like he did for everybody else, but he reached out to me! That's how I KNEW I couldn't leave him there, even if he would.... [here there are some words forcefully scribbled out] not make it.

But that's all just the setup. We got him home and put in him the old storage room with a nice, soft bed and the blanket from the shelter. I think the shelter people must have given him a sedative 'cause he didn't wake up even when Daddy pulled him out of the transport crate. So everything was going smooth, and Daddy told me about how maybe he can eat fruits, so I got the idea to make vumnoon for him, since it's supposed to be easy to digest for sick people. Should work for a cute little lemur, right? But when I was cooking, he disappeared! Poof! GONE!

Seriously, after I couldn't find him, the whole family looked EVERYWHERE, even Yoiv. I honestly thought that I'd have to just take him room to room looking for the little guy. I was SUPER scared because I just learned about how sometimes a pack animal will go away to find a quiet place to lay down and [here there are more words scribbled out more forcefully] not get up again. But Mom and Daddy thought that maybe he was just looking around the quarters, or wanted a smaller den to feel safe. But we found him RIGHT IN HIS BED, oh and he put the bed up on one of the old shelves, so I think lemurs like him don't like to sleep on the ground. Daddy CURSED real bad when he saw, then said he wants to LOCK HIM IN THE CLOSET.

It was my first real argument, and I could tell that Daddy was going after my points like I was a grown up, so I had to think fast about how to defend what I was saying. I think I won, kinda. It's my job to make sure the door is locked when it's important for Sneak to stay put. That's his name, I just decided. Plus it'll make writing about him easier with a name. I hope I can get Sneak to walk around the quarters a little, but maybe he just needs to get comfy with it.