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Chapter IV.11: Returning Home

Chapter IV.11: Returning Home

Marik should go to the enforcers after the inaction and corruption seen on Fallerian VII. But his hatchparent came first and he wanted to get rid of the crates. Now he was standing at the door of Llanaploß, his home for fifteen years until the day he got his Class C licence and his first job. Despite the hot and humid Fallerian air, he felt a chill as he entered his password and it still worked. He smiled.

Llanaploß scurried to the entrance before the door had fully slid aside. "Oh, back already? Come in."

"I won't invade," was the standard greeting. Now Lalleli came too, stopping at the exit of the nest, the main room.

"Hello, Lalleli."

"Hello, Marik," she almost whispered, her upper body bent forward in the low doorframe, her lower body nearly hidden. She was wearing only a bra but was still drenched in sweat, her hair plastered to her head. The small, shiny Llanaploß and the big, sweaty Lalleli made a strange contrast.

He entered and the door closed behind him.

"What's in the crates?" Llanaploß asked with his slow and extra careful articulation of Standard.

"Spices. I will leave them here. Let's go into the nest and I'll tell you all about it."

Inside the nest, Lalleli sat down across the low table, using a makeshift fan to cool herself a little. Naturally, Llanaploß quickly prepared a snack, a huge bowl in fact. Roasted Yaletzl larvae with a sweet dip, how he had missed them. And a cold drink for Lalleli.

As he munched on the roasted larvae, he told his story of the corrupt officer on Fallerian VII and the lame punishment for the traffickers, if there had been any at all. And that the spices had been declared his property by the corrupt officer.

Llanaploß wanted to see them, so the two went back to the entrance and looked in the crates. Llanaploß recognised the spices at once, he had used them occasionally, and they were indeed rare and expensive. Probably even more expensive than the officer had said. And of course, Llanaploß knew a contact on Fallerian VII from whom he had imported the spices and who might know more about Lalleli's traffickers and send him a message. Llanaploß also called the enforcers and spun quite a tale about Fallerian VII hiding contractual profits, using the crates as evidence. An auditor with an enforcer left immediately after his call; Fallerian took damage to its image as a fair business partner very seriously.

But his concern was less about further profits and the corrupt officer; he hoped they would get names so they could escalate this to the humans. Modding humans was a serious crime in most human systems, even with consent, as Jerka had said. And no one should be modded like Lalleli without consent.

When Llanaploß had finished his calls and messages, they sat back in the nest. With the business out of the way, he turned to the memorable journey back. A half-restored manual jump ship with xenon thrusters, tiny with only two seats, piloted by a young crazy cat.

"You were not in the mood for a temporary mating contract?" asked Llanaploß, "I heard that humans travel far to get them."

"Er, not that cat, I don't think she wanted to do that except from the time we docked," he shuddered, "but then she chased me away. I couldn't even pay her. I feel so bad for not letting me fulfil my part of the contract."

"She didn't take any money?" Llanaploß thought for a long time. "That does indeed sound crazy."

"I left her a message through flight control. No reply yet."

"Times are never as crazy as now," Llanaploß sighed but then rightened his antenna. "Your return calls for a feast. It is a fortunate coincidence that I am well-stocked for tomorrow. I will be in the kitchen, no entry, please!"

"I'm looking forward to dinner," he said in Standard so that Lalleli could understand, "I've always fondly remembered your cooking when I had to warm up an instant soup."

The old bug tried to hide his emotions, but he saw how happy he was. And he was sure they were in for a treat.

"What did the cat look like?" asked Lalleli.

"Short white fur, some stripes on the arm, with a cat's head and a bushy tail. Much bushier than yours," he blushed.

At the mention of the cat's tail, Lalleli curled her tail towards him. Which was not much, only a short skinny part and long hair growing from it.

"I like yours too, and it has even longer hair," he tried to give lip service, "and she had a cat's head, which was eerie because at first glance she looked like a human woman with fur. She was wearing a long t-shirt and knee-length black shorts. Even though it was chilly in her ship, I think you would like that temperature. But when she smiled," he rambled on, "she bared her fangs, eerie. She spoke Fallerian without much of an accent but with terrible grammar. Very confusing. You are more human." That was honest.

Lalleli smiled the human way.

His pad vibrated. "Oh, a message from the cat via flight control."

"Please read!"

"Ok, she wrote, 'My behaviour was very unprofessional and inexcusable. I am very sorry for putting my species to shame. You have helped me enough by getting me cheap fuel, no further obligations. Sorry again.' No name, no sender address."

"That doesn't sound so crazy."

He sighed. "She wasn't really crazy. But she had, er, serious control issues at the end. I mean, the departure from Fallerian VII impressed me. She worked the ships hard, just because she could. Without AI, she had to control all the systems all the time from departing to docking. Only after we docked, she almost threw herself at me and," he trailed off.

"Her message doesn’t sound like a love letter," Lalleli commented.

He also grinned. "No, it doesn't. I don't understand that cat. And it was really rude not to renegotiate or let me pay the agreed price. I will leave the contract open."

* * *

After the best and biggest Krantagratin ever, so big that not even Lalleli could eat it all, there was one more thing to do before the day was over: Lalleli's check-up.

He had wiped her lower body dry from sweat and had combed her hair. She had washed her human torso in the nest, not fitting into Llanaploß' bathroom. Now, she wore the largest towels triangularly over her chest, the corners barely reaching her navel and exposing a lot of skin. But there were not many humans on the station, and even fewer would be out this late.

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She ducked out through the entrance into the corridor and again the first sweat began to form on her sides. He went after Llanaploß and in front of Lalleli to divide the little traffic to their sides. Not only Lalleli was sweating, even at a leisurely pace; his body had also forgotten how hot and humid Fallerian was.

Finally, they reached the alien clinic of Fallerian III. He had been here a few times, mostly when he had caught a bug from some of the human visitors in Llanaploß' restaurant. Since there were so few permanent human residents on Fallerian III, the centipede doctor recognised him even after two years of absence. They (their pronouns in Standard, because of their two brains at either end) wanted to do a full checkup on him too, but he declined, tonight it was Lalleli's turn.

The large scanner barely fitted her. The circles whirled around a few times as the sequencer ran through her DNA. The doctor had climbed onto an operating table to be closer to Lalleli's height and was working on their pad while they waited. Finally, they looked up, although it was hard to tell to an outsider as both end segments looked like a black shiny ball. "Miss Lalleli, we do not have a record of your complete DNA. But we can say for sure that you have been heavily modified, about 12% of the human DNA has been exchanged and you even got six extra chromosomes."

"Can that be undone?"

"DNA can be undone. Do you have any idea how mods work?"

Lalleli shook her head and then added, "No, no idea."

"Mods easily add or enlarge but have very limited ability to shrink or remove. When they modded you, they probably cut you at the hip and regrew your lower body according to your modded DNA. This mod added a lot more insulating fat to your upper human-like torso and enlarged your cerebellum. You even have a secondary cerebellum in your mid-shoulders."

"Sorry, can you say that any easier?" Lalleli interrupted.

"Miss Lalleli, we are sorry. You now have three brains, the normal higher brain for reasoning, which forms a large part of your personality, and a larger than normal lower brain for breathing and moving in your head, and a new second lower brain in your middle shoulder, perhaps also for heartbeat, movement and digestion. The connections between these lower brains in your human spine are much denser than in a normal human, and your spine has also been expanded, so we are not sure if these lower brains do not also contribute to your personality".

"I see," she said although it was obvious to him that she did not catch all of it, "So can it be undone?"

"Maybe, we could cut you again just below the lungs, so you could regrow a new heart and lower human limbs. But that would leave you with a top-heavy spine, an oversized lower brain, and half a missing lower brain. There is a high chance that your personality will be damaged. You might not even be able to walk and would have to be retrained, as we have no idea whether the functions of the lower brain can be transferred back. If the top half of your lower brain no longer feels responsible for your breathing or heartbeat, we could give you a pacer and breather mod. But modifying the brain is beyond what we could do, such mods are very difficult and expensive."

"You mean, I am stuck like this?"

"We could perform surgery as an immediate relief to make you a biped, albeit an unwieldy one."

Lalleli thought for a moment. "No, then I'd rather stay like this. There is a whole planet of me."

"We respect your choice. There is some good news. The mod was very mature. Your larger and slower beating heart indicates a much longer life span than normal humans, perhaps close to 180 years. And we have analysed your human origins. Based on your human DNA fragments and our database, your parents were from the Cartus system or the Jotan system.

"I once heard of a trader from the Jotan system, so I guess I am from Cartus. But we never called my world that."

"We got that name from a human database. But we would get the same result if both your parents emigrated from Cartus or Jotan to the planet where you were born. Locating the birthplace by DNA is not an exact science."

"Hmm, my mother told me that my father once travelled on a spaceship. And the colony was not that old."

"Miss Lalleli, there is a more immediate problem. Your body temperature has been reduced to 305 K, almost 5 K below the average room temperature on Fallerian III. How do you feel in this heat?"

"Well, it is very hot and humid. I drink a lot. And you can see how much I sweat." She held up the wet towel.

"We are impressed that you have been able to come here without getting heat stroke. When we saw this, we lowered the room temperature by 2 K and prescribed a cooler for you." They took a sort of backpack one leg segment from a door which apparently contained a fabber, and quickly passed it to the end facing Lalleli. "Here, please put this on your back."

Lalleli carefully took the rucksack for the doctor's short appendix and put it on.

"We're going to walk on your back now," the doctor announced, climbing onto Lalleli. The doctor used their front legs to pull two flaps out from under the rucksack and placed them on Lalleli's back.

"Please turn it on by touching your left side and turn it off by touching your right side. We advise you to keep it on at all times."

She touched her left side and immediately a cool breeze began to blow around her neck and down her lower body through the slightly inflated flaps. "This is great," she smiled, "even the wind helps so much."

"Llandradroß, now it is your turn. Into the scanner!" Llanaploß antenna vibrated, amused that he needed that strong order. Marik sighed and stood in the scanner, waiting for the verdict.

"Done. A small wound to the ear, but no serious infection. And we need to boost your immune system. And you have increased your body fat at the expense of your muscles. You must exercise more."

"Yes," he said, sticking his hand reluctantly into the large device. The immune system upgrade always made him sick, and he had just had such a nice dinner.

"Done. Can you give us your licence to add it there too."

Wordlessly he held out his pad. And the human snake sticker went from angry orange to solid blue-green again.

"You can wipe out whole civilisations, you need to keep your protection up to date."

"What about Lalleli's protections?" he asked in Standard.

The centipede turned to her. "Miss Lalleli, we are terribly sorry that we forgot to mention that your protections are state of the art, including some that I could not even give to Llandradroß."

* * *

Marik still wasn't used to shoes. In the harsh climate, at least harsh for Fallerians, he literally got cold feet. Also in other aspects he could not warm up to life on a planet. Rain falling from the sky would never be his thing.

Compared to Cauve, the planet of the centaurs or preons, this environment was still mild, almost 10 K warmer than where they had landed. So Lalleli usually went out in a sleeveless halter top. But he needed full human clothing, including a jacket and other bulky garments which was at least better than a space suit. And those dreaded shoes.

The mothballed research base had been very cheap, as no sane Fallerian wanted to stay here longer than necessary. Lalleli had been able to buy it with the money that Fallerian III had confiscated from that company and the bribes they had secured from the corrupt docking officers on Fallerian VII. It had even enough left for renovations.

The buildings were in good condition, only the heating needed an upgrade to handle colder and warmer rooms simultaneously. The rest of the renovation consisted of converting a large area for Lalleli and adding some comfortable rooms for up to three hired staff, currently a human cook and a human traveller to help with translations. No Fallerian would work here. And, most importantly, the five guest rooms with extra strong heating and humidified air. Lalleili wanted to turn this former research station into a guesthouse for guided horseback rides (on herself) to see real snow. There was a glacier about four kilometres from the house on a nearby ridge. Lalleli could easily run this distance five times a day. And the few invited Fallerian influencers from yesterday loved to cling to her warm body as they rode out into the snow. The next 20 days were already fully booked.

He still wondered if Lalleli would not have been better off flying back to Cauve and rebuilding her life there. The search for her home system had been fruitless so far, her memory too vague, the DNA information too general, the names and facts she remembered too generic. And although the Fallerian authorities had seized the addresses of the trading partners and sent the evidence to the host systems (all in human systems), there hadn't been an answer yet. Since the messages travelled with the data dumps on ships, they may not have reached their destinations yet.

Today, the first paying guests would arrive. If all went well, he would leave with their flight. He was sad to leave Lalleli, but more than happy to get back into space. As much as Lalleli did not fit on a ship or a Fallerian station, he did not fit on a planet, especially not in this cold region.