Chapter Ten

“I wish I could do more for you, but I’m only a department head and professor, the best I can do is approve any study you submit to me for approval. I can extend credits to you for any supplies you need, but beyond that the only one who can help you out of this,” Sxlith paused his diatribe to lap his tongue into the bourbon glass several times, “is you.”

I threw back my shot, tilting my head up and envying human mouths the convenience of their glasses. The liquid burned down my throat where it settled in my stomach and I held out my glass to William who quickly poured another. Ka’wik darted his tongue out and drained the liquid through a little funnel connected to it’s tip, in nature this was used to either drink liquid or to drain the blood of their prey. His species digestion was exceptionally efficient, even moreso than humans, with a natural consequence that he lay slumped back in the chair after his third shot.

Blorip by contrast, simply made part of his body into an appendage and stuck it into the shot glass. His green was starting to look greener, and his humanoid shape was starting to become more blob-like. His body rippled as the dark liquid ran through the interior of the membrane and finally blended in with his body’s darker hue.

“I guess that’s all I can ask… more than I expected.” It was hard not to look down into my shot glass and feel flustered and frustrated both at once, but I did my best. A human might have thanked him, but I did not. Thank him for what? Nothing changed.

Sxlith didn’t press me, instead he turned to updating William and Rebecca on the goings on of the rest of the branches of the Walker family.

They were a large and diverse lot, with people spread from the continent of Europe, Central America, and Australia, and everywhere in between. My Teacher’s words came back to me in a flash. ‘You are Anthropologists. For you, everything is a study, an experiment, or both. Every observation is a chance to learn something new, including things about yourself.’

My professor was studying me, but that meant I too could study him, I could study the Walkers and how they responded to news about family that was out of sight and out of mind, or if they even were out of mind.

So I listened more than I spoke, which is the best way to learn. “...So she’s going to have another kid, that’s great news.” William replied to Sxlith’s information, “It’s always a good idea to space them out a little, you know, free child labor and whatnot.” He chortled a little, then let out a harumpf, “A perfectly good child labor joke and Fauve isn’t here to catch it.”

Rebecca didn’t laugh, “Joke-shmoke, I don’t know how she handles all those kids, I can only handle two.”

It’s the little things about this conversation that I gleaned the most from, William was referring to a cousin who had six children already in rapid succession, an uncommon thing for most humans in the modern era. A lot more can be gleaned however, he showed neither anger nor pleasure in the way he spoke, if anything he was very casual about it. Great, loud, expressive enthusiasm would follow with someone closer to him, or so I judged from my media observations.

He wasn’t worried, which is to be expected, over the years the healthcare of humans had evolved considerably from their most primitive beliefs in magic, rituals, and miracles, to modern science. In the last few hundred years their shifting politics made proper medical care a basic ‘right’ of all people, and as such it was fully funded out of their planetary budget. Their reasoning for this was starkly simple, ‘If you hold a rope out to a man dangling off a cliff, and demand payment to let him grab it, are you not a monster. If you let him fall because he cannot pay, are you less monstrous? Why should it be different for those who will die without medical treatment? As such preventative care including prenatal stages were kept widely available to ensure maximally good health at birth and then until the point of death.

William’s casual air therefore was a blend of his emotional distance to his cousin and an easy confidence that things would work out as they typically did in these things, but I paid special note to Rebecca. She side eyed her husband and said…

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“That’s what you said nine months before we had Michael.” William pointed out, and Rebecca poured another shot for herself, looked him squarely in the eye and replied…

“A truly loving husband would not point that out.”

She handed him the bottle and no sooner did he pour himself another round than he retorted, “My dear, a truly loving husband is the only one who can.”

It was oddly comforting to watch their taunting play, the way Rebecca flipped her hair back with a single gesture, and the way William leaned back in his as casually as he could… there is something else I have to note here.

William and Rebecca’s bonding was nearly twenty years in length, astonishingly long compared to most species who remained together for only a handful of years if they did at all. Even in his own species, such unions were typically not much longer than seven to ten years. Seeing the way they played with one another with words, engaged in their regular flirtations, I resolved one thing, ‘If I got to stay, I would study the significance of human pair bonding far, far more closely.’

The light drinking did its part for us, burying the underlying tension and helping me to relax when I needed it most. It wasn’t lost on either William or Rebecca that I couldn’t put off telling Fauve for long, for the moment though, there were other questions too.

“William, you mentioned a job?” I asked. His eyes switched from his wife to myself and he answered me with a snap of his fingers.

“Yes, right! It’s at the University. You’ll have to go up there, but since you’re also going to be a student, it should be an easy job to get. The University of Louisville has a small military presence, you’d be doing some work for them, I don’t know all the details, but apparently they want somebody to help with field exercises.”

“So… human soldiers?” I asked, and he gave a little nod my way.

Any questions I might have had were put off by the noise of Fauve’s voice at the door, and my… well they would object if I openly said I was a coward, but I know of no other word for it, so ‘my cowardice’ reasserted itself. I stood up and stretched my legs, “I’m going to get some rest. Goodnight.”

“But we haven’t even had dinner yet…” Rebecca objected, thankfully nobody in the room had my hearing, so they couldn’t hear what I did, Fauve excitedly talking with Byron and Boatswain outside the front door about her upcoming internship and her orientation. I had to avert my eyes from the door, my tail drooped.

‘I don’t want to go.’ I would have said it to anybody who could have changed things, but there was nobody like that here, not even Professor Sxlith could do more than help me with a study approval that I haven’t even written yet.

“Put a plate in the refrigerator for me, I’ll eat later. Goodnight!” I said a little quieter and faster than I normally did, “Professor, Ka’wik, Blorip, live long and learn much.” I gave a half bow to the trio as I hastily shot out the traditional courtesy greeting of university academics.

I’m sure they said it back, but even with my keen hearing, I didn’t notice, I was focused on my flight from the inevitable questions I didn’t want to answer.

Dlamisa have no superstitions, no gods or spirits as humans once did, our evolutionary path simply didn’t lend itself to anything like it. However in that moment as I descended the stairs, afraid of saying things I knew needed to be said, but that I neither knew how nor wanted to say, I envied the superstitious. To believe something was giving you an edge, a little extra protection in the face of unpleasantness, fear, or anxiety must have been comforting.

I didn’t have that, but I did have swift feet, and I rushed down, glad that the pads on my feet kept my steps quiet all the way and then raced to my room, closing the door with such care that my hand never left the knob and my ears were pressed against the wood until I was sure I could let the knob turn and secure the door in place.

I then flicked off the light, buried myself deep beneath the covers so that even my head was concealed from view so no part of my could be seen, and after that I don’t know what else to say except that I curled up and went to sleep.

I do remember another thought though, my last one before I drifted off.

‘I don’t want to go.’