Memory Transcription Subject: Chiri, Gojid Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: November 1, 2136
The boat didn’t exactly ram into the dock, but with inertia and friction embodying such peculiar extremes on the surface of the water, it certainly felt like it did. Thankfully, I knew it was coming this time and braced my paws against a railing as it jolted to a sudden stop. The Gojids, as a people, did not necessarily lack for longshoremen, but as someone who grew up fairly inland, I would never have been so bold as to presume to count myself among their ranks. I was thankful to step back onto solid ground, or at least a series of wooden planks jutting out from it. It felt strange and rustic in its own way to feel the old sea-weathered wood beneath my feet. Without the wind rushing past the boat--and with my fur not soaked in seawater--I was warm enough that I had to unbutton my coat.
The young human on the dock was trying to run towards us, but her father held her in place to keep her from falling off the precarious docks while trying. He finally scooped her up and walked her over to us himself. David waved, but busied himself with tying the boat down. Mooring, I think the word was? Nevertheless, David was within earshot, but I found myself abruptly taking point on a social interaction with two pred--no, two foreigners from a recently upli--from a culture new to the galactic stage.
Hot damn, girl, said the critical voice. I think you’re setting new records for speedrunning unlearning things.
My nose rankled for a moment before I settled it. Hopefully the humans thought I was just wincing against the winter sea winds.
Why are you approving of this? I thought your whole deal was never approving of anything I do?
That's an oversimplification, said the critical voice. I’m also kind of your to-do list. Besides, I can always spin this into an act of dishonoring your ancestors later.
I’m honoring who my ancestors could have been if the Federation hadn’t robbed them of their culture!
While spitting in the face of every ancestor in recent memory. What would your parents think of you now?
I’ll care what they think when they care about what I have to say!
“Are you cold?” asked the tiny human, presumably trying to make sense of my various scrunched-up facial expressions.
“Hm? No, I’m pretty toasty,” I said, patting the warm jacket that David lent me and putting on my best approximation of a human smile.
The small human started giggling and holding her head. “Do it again!”
I blinked. “Huh? Do what again?”
She laughed harder. The older human holding her shrugged helplessly. “The whole family got the translator chip a few months ago,” he said. “She still thinks it’s the height of comedy anytime she hears the comprehensible part of someone’s voice come from the chip instead of from their mouth. On the bright side, it’s certainly made the nanny’s life easier.” He turned to the child and changed his vocal register. “Where is the library? How much does this burrito cost?” The girl had another giggle fit.
“Thirty-something years old, and you still can’t manage a convincing accent in Spanish,” David joked, as he stepped off the boat to join us.
“Yes, well, it’s a matter of practice. Not all of us spend our days peeling potatoes alongside our illustrious allies to the south,” said Sam, I presumed.
David snorted. “My goodness, are you telling me there’s a lack of diversity on Wall Street? Why, I’m shocked beyond words,” he said, sounding about as shocked as an unabridged building regulatory manual on properly-grounded wiring.
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“Yeah, that’s why I don’t work on Wall Street anymore. Too little integrity. Ethically, and now apparently structurally.” Sam laughed. “Alright, come on, enough of that, though. Spill the tea,” he said. “Where the heck did you even find a Gojid in this day and age? I thought everyone was still kind of avoiding us.”
David grinned, but shrugged. “Ran into her last night, and I enjoyed her company enough that I wanted to offer her a job. Thought I’d maybe talk to my lawyer about the latest rules regarding extraplanetary work visas.”
Sam shrugged. “She’s in her study updating some contracts for that very reason.”
David tilted his head to one side. “What about you? I’m surprised to see the big money guy home on a Thursday,” he said.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Newark’s still standing, by and large, but every--” he coughed, and hugged his daughter conspicuously. “--gosh-darned window in the office blew out. We’re all working from home for a few more weeks while they finish cleaning the place up.”
David seemed to imagine a map for a few moments, trying to place ‘Newark’ relative to the centerpoint of the destruction of New York. “...Yeah, I guess that’d be near the outskirts of the blast radius. So anyway, yeah, um, this is Chiri,” he said, patting my shoulder. “Chiri, this is my cousin Sam, and this little bundle of sugar is named Helena.”
“You look very fluffy!” said Helena, her eyes wide. “Can I hug you?”
I blinked. “Uhh… sure, why not?”
The young human scrambled down and buried her face into the soft fur on my stomach. “So fluffy…” she mumbled.
Wow! And now you’re just letting predators put their teeth near your delicate underbelly, said the critical voice. You’re doing a great job being tolerant of foreign cultures right now.
I feel like you’ve transitioned into mocking me at some point, but I’m at a loss as to precisely when.
Nonsense. Continue being polite to the little carnivore. Offer her a sip of your blood.
“I’m thirsty,” said Helena. I flinched out of sheer surprise. “Daddy, can we do a tea party?” Without letting go of me, she pivoted her head upwards to look at me. “Do you like tea, Chiri?”
I smiled, and stuffed the dark thoughts back in their corner. “I love tea! And little cakes, too.”
Helena’s eyes lit up. “Yes! We have to have little cakes with our tea. And cookies!”
Sam looked apprehensive and hesitant. “Let me think about what we have that would, uhh…”
I’d already been briefed by David on the subject of Terran baked goods. “I’m actually coming around on butter,” I said, gently easing Sam into the depraved depths of my newfound dairy addiction, “but I just found out on the news that I probably have an egg allergy.”
Sam gave the slow blink of muted surprise. “...I will double-check the allergen information. How are you holding up after the news? It must have been a bit of a shock.” David’s cousin kept the greater part of the question unsaid. It had been less than twenty-four hours since the news broke that Gojids were secret omnivores, hiding in plain sight among the “civilized” races of the very Federation I’d been raised in. How was I adjusting so well? There couldn’t possibly be that many Gojids who were already acting this blasé about milk and eggs.
I tousled Helena’s hair idly as I gave the question the weight of consideration it was due. How could you sum up something so world-shattering? Demons were real, and I was one of them. I’d thrown myself headfirst into depths of delicious depravity that would have been unthinkable for me last week, and it was… honestly, not that big a deal. Having gone into this expecting to paint the walls bloody red, it was kind of anticlimax, really, how mundane it had all been. Granted, I still hadn’t tried actual meat yet, but frankly, on at least some level, I almost felt like I was being petty about the whole thing.
I must confess, said the odd voice, that I was certainly expecting a bit more divine retribution over this. Can the gods not see us this far from the Cradle?
“Did you ever want something just because someone else said you weren’t allowed to have it?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Helena with immediacy and conviction. “Mom said I wouldn’t like jalapeños, and she wouldn’t let me try them. So I ate one anyway.” Helena looked up at me with the saddest face I’d seen on her so far. “I don’t like jalapeños. They hurt.”
I looked at David with a questioning expression.
“Another one of those fruits that aren’t particularly sweet,” he said. “It makes sauces taste…” David thought for a moment, trying to pick a word that would translate well. “Fiery.”
Fiery how? the odd voice pondered.
I shrugged. “Sounds interesting.”
“I’ll add it to the list,” said David. “Or rather, I don’t use a lot of jalapeños specifically, but the broader category of ‘chiles’ or ‘hot peppers’ tend to show up a lot in the curries I make.”
“Alright, well, it’s freezing out here,” said Sam, “so let’s continue the conversation indoors.”