CHAPTER 16

  Niko was partway through his morning hygiene routine—having had a quick shower and a thorough blow-dry—and was carefully combing his fur to get it just right when the door to the small Moccan-sized house opened. Kelsen stumbled through, mumbling a good morning. His fur was beyond mussed, sticking up haphazardly in every direction. Niko set the comb down, a grin creeping across his face. “Wow. Looks like someone got lucky last night.”

  Kelsen rolled his eyes, dropping his voice equipment on the counter and shoving past Niko and stepping into the shower. Pulling the curtain closed—a measure they still found quaint, as their shower back home simply had electronically controlled tintable glass to obscure the user—he started throwing his clothes over the top, nearly hitting Niko in the face with his shirt. “Ha ha. I’m only lucky I didn’t fall off the bed.”

  “God damn. It got that intense?”

  “You’re such a teenager. No, I kept tossing and turning. Had trouble sleeping.”

  “I mean, I assume it would be hard to sleep when you’re getting—”

  “Oh my god, I will end you. Go bother someone else.”

  “If you insist.” Niko tossed the comb next to the sink and exited both the bathroom and the little building entirely, setting up his own voice equipment. Across the room, in the attached kitchen, Ralia was humming as she prepared breakfast. Fyche stood at the kitchen threshold, looking uncomfortable. Not exactly out of the ordinary. “Heya Fyche, heya Rails. I’m online again. Want some assist?”

  “No, you’re my guest!” Ralia said, sounding playfully affronted.

  “Come on. It’ll be easier for me and Kel if you at least let me size down our portions.”

  Ralia frowned. “Actually, that’s a good idea.” At her direction, Fyche picked Niko up and set him on the kitchen counter, where he set to modifying the food—a skillet scramble with plenty of chives and sausage—into workable, Moccan-sized portions. There were some foods you could order in Moccan-sized portions, but it was always difficult for Latians to prepare them, and due to scarcity and being labor intensive, they weren’t as much cheaper as you might expect.

  Fyche hovered behind the two of them. “Anything I can do to help?”

  Shaking her head without turning around, Ralia said “Thanks, but nope. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable, we’ll be done soon.”

  Fyche did as he was told. “Sitting around while others are working isn’t exactly comfortable,” he muttered.

  “It is very sweet of you to want to be helpful, Fyche. I really do appreciate it.” Fyche grumbled something inaudibly in response. “Say again?”

  “I’m not. Sweet, I mean. Doesn’t count when I’m just acting on behavior pounded into me.”

  Niko chuckled, though there was an edge to it. “Nothing beats being punished for ‘being idle’. Something something devil’s playthings.”

  “Preach.” Kelsen joined them, having finished his shower in record time. His fur was still damp in places, but he hadn’t lingered in the hot water as he often did at home. “I just love being berated for being lazy for no reason.”

  Ralia moved the skillet off the stove, setting it on a hot pad, an agitated look on her face. Scooping up Niko and Kelsen, she brought them over to Fyche and proceeded to pull them all into a shared embrace. “You all need a hug.”

  “Oh, right,” said Niko. “I forgot we were with a normie. She doesn’t get the joke, lads. We probably sound like traumatized orphans to her sane-parented ears.”

  She just held them tighter. “You do, though! I feel like I’m listening to poor abused puppies at the shelter!” Eventually, she released them, though she still looked troubled. “I was saving this for tomorrow, but now is probably a good time to mention it. My parents and sister are in town, and they’re coming to most of the events. We were going to surprise you, but now I think we should see them today. You all desperately need some good parenting.”

  Kelsen ducked his head. “We’re just joking around. It’s fine.”

  “Yeah,” Niko agreed. “Besides, we don’t gotta make them up and change their schedule. We have a thousand things to finish getting ready anyway.”

  “Oh, you don’t seem to understand. I had to talk them into not showing up to every event and helping with everything. They would be elated to meet you guys.”

  “Well, when you say it like that...”

  Kelsen spun to glare at Niko. “Dude, no.”

  Shrugging, Fyche nodded. “It doesn’t matter to me. If you and Niko think it’s a good idea, sure.”

  “Traitors!” Kelsen covered his face, hunched over slightly.

  Worried, Niko put an arm around his shoulders. “Hey, it’s all right. If you’re not ready to meet more Latians right now, we can wait until...” He trailed off as he saw behind Kelsen’s paws. The wolf was smirking. Scowling, he slugged Kelsen’s arm. “You bitch! I thought you were having a heart attack!”

  His smirk fading, Kelsen showed his face again. “Oh, shit, no. Sorry. I was joking around. Like, I am terrified of meeting them, but not in a ‘I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it’ way, just in a ‘Meet the parents’ kinda way, you know?”

  Shaking her head, Ralia moved away to start serving breakfast. “Just for that, I’m telling my sister you called me fat.”

  “Wait. No. Hold on.”

  “No, even better: you told me I was ‘very brave for wearing a size that small,’ that sounds worse.”

  Kelsen sat down heavily. “Just execute me right now. God.”

  Niko bowed his head. “I will prepare your last rites, fallen soldier.”

  “Fuck off.”

…

  After breakfast, they gave Ralia’s parents a call and arranged to meet for lunch at a nearby cafe. The rest of the morning was spent making more calls and checking on arrangements, including informing certain staff at the hotel and Donovan that Ralia’s parents would be around, and they had approval and access. At Fyche’s urging, they also checked in with Jess, making sure Samet was behaving himself. She assured them he was.

  When they were done, they had less than ten minutes until it was time to leave, so they shrugged and headed out. As it was a little far to walk and Ralia rarely drove unless it was absolutely necessary, they took the bus. Thankfully, it was half empty, leaving them plenty of space to sit; Ralia still hadn’t completely gotten over her fear of dropping Kelsen in a moving vehicle. Kelsen waited anxiously as they scanned their tickets, but everything seemed fine; Teromod had clarified rules on Moccan fares and seating, finally, though it seemed likely to change again at some point in the future. A comprehensive transportation network for Moccans was likely still decades away, unfortunately, at least for established areas.

  Niko, being Niko, struck up a conversation with a young otter sitting in front of them, entertaining her by describing Moccs to pass the time.

  Eventually, they arrived at their stop, half a block from the cafe. Upon entering, they found Ralia’s parents and sister already seated. Her father, Andrew, was a golden brown husky like her, while Anna, her mother, was a merle shepherd with scattered black and tan coloring. Her sister Veros took more after their mother, though she had some faint husky-like face markings. All three rose and embraced Ralia, though they gave Kelsen a respectful amount of space. Both parents buzzed with excitement, clearly restraining themselves from sweeping him into a hug as well. It seemed Ralia had informed them of his boundaries beforehand.

  They showed Fyche the same courtesy, shaking his hand rather than swarming him. “I hear you’re the one to thank for saving these three,” Anna said to him, beaming.

  “A very brave young man,” Andrew added.

  Fyche shrugged and looked away. “Just doing the right thing, ma’am. Sir.”

  “Please, call us Anna and Andrew. No need to be so formal.”

  “Er...”

  Sensing his embarrassment, Ralia steered everyone to their seats, the Latians around the table and the Moccans at a second, smaller table placed where the sixth plate would have been. They all picked up their menus, and her parents began whispering—loudly enough for the entire table to hear—about how adorable Kelsen was, and didn’t he and Ralia look so wonderful together? Veros, for her part, snickered behind her paw.

  Kelsen met Niko’s eyes over their menus, and as his best friend, Niko could tell that he was screaming internally. Muting his MoccsVox for a moment, he stuck his tongue out. “They’re going to snuggle you to death, friendo.” At Kelsen’s glare, he shrugged. “I mean, there are worse ways to die.” Kelsen used the menu to hide a gesture—drawing a finger across his throat. The message was clear. “Dude, chill out. They like you. And they’re being very nice and relaxed about it. It could be a lot worse.”

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  “I guess,” Kelsen sighed, forgetting to turn off his own Miicz.

  “What was that, dear?” asked Anna.

  Kelsen reddened. “Oh, u-uh, nothing, M-Ms. Reid. Sorry.”

  “Son, there’s nothing to be worried about,” Andrew said placatingly. “We couldn’t be happier to have you as part of the family.”

  Only Niko caught Kelsen mouth the word ‘family’ in bemusement. He seemed both embarrassed and relieved. Unfortunately for him, Veros leaned forward, eyeing him critically. “I dunno, Dad. I’m not convinced. What do you do for a living?”

  “I, uh, er, d-data entry, m-mostly...”

  “I know you’re in university—what were your grades last semester?”

  “T-they...uh, so-so...I...”

  “Veros,” Ralia said warningly.

  Veros leaned closer, ignoring her. “I’m just asking some general questions. What was the last thing you did to surprise my sister? How many times a day do you tell her how much you appreciate her?”

  Kelsen’s eyes darted from side to side. “Er...I-I...that, is w-we...”

  “Veros!”

  Veros’ face was right in front of their table, close enough to make Niko uncomfortable as well. “Do you really think you’re worthy of someone as great as Ralia?”

  “I—I mean—who could be?” Kelsen gasped for air.

  Ralia slammed her paw down in front of Veros’ face. “Veros! Stop interrogating my boyfriend!”

  Her sister shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “I was done anyway. That was a good answer—I like him.” Ralia sighed in exasperation.

  Despite feeling shaken, Kelsen indicated he was generally okay, and they proceeded to order. As they waited for the food, they made more detailed introductions. Surprisingly, Kelsen and Veros managed to form common ground; she mentioned that she was a social worker, just like his father. They compared notes, as she worked in a more psychiatric capacity, while Robert specialized in children and family services—and then there were the similarities and differences between social work on Moccs and Latia, as well as between Doxen and Salica.

  Happily ignored, Fyche let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, appeased at the banished tension. He and Kelsen had trouble communicating at times, but he didn’t want the guy to suffer.

  Despite Ralia’s parents’ desire to linger over their meal, the SDM team had things to check on at the hotel venue. “We’ve been sort of putting it off,” explained Niko apologetically. “Doing it over the phone and stuff. But we should really get down there in person and make sure everything is going okay and lend a hand with prep.”

  Anna nodded. “Completely understandable, dear. You can tell us more about it on the ride over.”

  Ralia gave the others a look, exuding an aura of ‘I told you so’. “We bused here, Mom. Gonna be hard to fit everyone in the car.”

  “Oh, no prob,” said Veros, slipping a keyring out of her pocket. “I drove too. How about you and loverboy come with me, and Niko and Fyche go with Mom and Dad?”

  “Loverboy?” Kelsen asked, looking winded.

  Niko nodded sagely. “That’s your new nickname. And yeah, that sounds good to me. Fyche?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Coolio. See you at the hotel, loverboy.”

  “I will devote my existence to ending yours.”

  Ralia glanced at Veros. “Actually, that reminds me about something Kel said to me earlier...”

  Kelsen’s only response was a choking noise.

…

  After reuniting outside—Kelsen still very much alive, somehow—the group entered the hotel lobby to find their shuttlemates hanging out there with Samet. Greeting the SDM team exuberantly, they explained that they wanted more experience being around Latians in a controlled environment. With the hotel staff and some of the hired security around, things were about as safe as they could hope for, and it gave them a chance to keep an eye on Samet as he tried to learn better safety. Fyche noted with some surprise that the Latian squirrel did seem to be trying, at least. Upon hearing they were there to work on prep for the week’s events, all volunteered to help, which Niko accepted happily.

  They held a short conversation with the concierge and other hotel staff before heading over to one of the reserved rooms. Some of their hired help was already here, setting up tables and chairs, so they joined in. Niko and Kelsen were pleased to find there was plenty for them and the other Moccans to do, as many finer details needed a Moccan touch.

  As they worked, they discussed upcoming events and specifics, from seating to catering, the SDM team cluing Ralia’s family in on the broad strokes and giving tantalizing hints about surprises to the attendees.

  Without needing much prompting, Ralia’s parents followed through on her plan, generously doling out praise, compliments, and validation to everyone. Kelsen reddened but seemed to appreciate it, and while he was visibly embarrassed, Fyche didn’t ask them to stop. For his part, Niko practically wallowed in the slightest bit of approval.

  Ralia, watching this happen with Veros, nodded to herself with satisfaction.

  “Your friends are such geeks,” her sister said, nudging her with an elbow.

  Ralia sniffed. “I am, too.”

  “Yeah, I know. It wasn’t an insult.” Veros threw an arm around her. “So, how long ago did Niko lose his parents?”

  Ralia sighed. “That’s a difficult question to answer. If you want to know, ask him yourself. Ask all of them yourself.” She looked over. “But also don’t, because you’ll psychoanalyze them, like you always do.”

  Veros held up her paws. “Hey, you are looking at a changed woman. I don’t use my career knowledge for evil. Anymore.”

  “You don’t use it for evil. You just...push people’s boundaries. And my friends have serious boundaries that you need to respect.”

  “I will. Promise,” Veros said. “I mean, I’m absolutely going to fuck with them, because come on, look at them, they’re practically begging me to take their lunch money...” She trailed off at Ralia’s withering glare. “But seriously, I’m not gonna say shit to get under their skin or anything. We’re mature, responsible adults, right?”

  “One of us is.”

  “Hey! I’m the older sister. I am more mature by default.”

  “You have literally just disproven that by saying so,” Ralia deadpanned.

  “Did not!”

  “Oh, very mature.”

…

  Hours later, after bidding the attendees and Ralia’s family farewell—and turning down the latter’s offer of getting dinner together—Ralia, Kelsen, Fyche, and Niko went home to change, then headed to a nice restaurant for a double date. It was the same one that Ralia, Kelsen, and Niko had gone to on their first visit to Latia.

  Once they were seated, Niko gestured at Kelsen with his menu. “Okay, since we’re here again, you’ve gotta choose something different this time.”

  Kelsen opened his own menu, shielding his face from view. “Make me.”

  “You order the same thing at every restaurant every time.”

  “I know what I like.”

  “It’s like you’re five years old.”

  “Choosing something random every time doesn’t make you mature. It makes you pretentious!”

  As they bickered good-naturedly, Fyche looked between them and Ralia. “This time? You guys have been here before?”

  Ralia’s eyes widened. “So, what did you guys think of Veros? I know she’s a little overbearing, but she’s still—”

  Niko shushed her. “Up-bup-up, not so fast. You’re not getting off that easy.”

  She sighed. “Okay. Just get it over with.”

  With a wicked grin, Niko did so. “Okay, so when we came here last time, we didn’t tell our parents, right?” Fyche nodded, still clearly confused. “Well, we let it slip while we were eating here, and Miss High Horse over here decides to give us a piece of her mind and lecture us about it.”

  “It wasn’t a lecture...”

  “‘Insignificant Moccan peasants! How dare theest not report to thine parentage! For gene donors are the most wise and noble beings in the land!’” Niko cried.

  “That’s not even close!”

  “‘Yea verily, thou mustest inform thy parents that you’re here on Latia, otherwise you shall be struck down with a plague! And I will kick you out of my house!’”

  “I did not say I would kick you out.”

  “You said you wouldn’t let us in unless we did.”

  Ralia hung her head. “Oh, god, I did, didn’t I?”

  Kelsen got up to pat her arm reassuringly. “We forgave you for that a long time ago. Right, Niko?”

  “‘Nay! Thyest shall carry the curse of my grudging for eons to comest! Ohohoho!’”

  “That’s a yes,” Kelsen translated.

  Fyche shook his head. “I can hardly imagine that happening. Ralia doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”

  Niko spoke immediately. “False.”

  “Hey...” Ralia said weakly.

  “Very false,” Kelsen agreed. “Did I tell you about the time she hit me in the head? I was already dying, and she attacked me.”

  “Hey...”

  “A most cruel mistress.”

  “I am not!”

  After the meal, Kelsen noticed a goat staring at their table. He shrugged and tried not to think about it. Just another Latian staring at him. He tried to remember what Niko had said: he’d stare at Latians on Moccs, so it was only fair if they sometimes gave him the same treatment.

…

  They’d gotten back to Ralia’s and started to prepare for bed when Fyche stopped Ralia. “Not yet,” he said. “We need to practice. You’ve skipped it too many times, and I agreed to hold you accountable when we started.”

  She nodded, chagrined. “No, you’re right. Okay—Kel, Niko, stay over near Niko’s room, all right?”

  “Ooh, are you gonna spar?” asked Niko, eyes shining.

  “We are. With all the prep going on, I kept putting it off. But Fyche is right—I wanted to do this.” She stood across from Fyche, and they each shifted their footing and raised their paws. To Kelsen and Niko, it meant little other than ‘martial arts pose’, but to Fyche, and now more and more to Ralia, there was purpose in their stance and in their movements.

  They started off slow, following a simple kata, which Fyche added to as they went along, increasing its complexity. They continued until Ralia faltered, unable to replicate his movements. He gave her a short break then, before they moved into a different form, and started exchanging practiced punches and kicks.

  Both due to her lack of experience and the small confines of the apartment, they didn’t go all out, or even trade blows in earnest; rather, they were practicing motions and techniques. Fyche explained that many of these were good moves to know for use in a real fight, and that they were also handy for keeping up fitness and expanding on later.

  Even with the limits of their session, the sight was impressive, and not just because they were Latians. Ralia had improved greatly over the last few months, and it was evident even despite Fyche’s double advantages of time spent training and larger size. “Well, I think I feel a bit safer in public now,” Kelsen said.

  His comment went blessedly unmocked. “Yeah,” said Niko. “That’s a pretty handy skill to have. Especially since it looks like I’ll never get my electric stungun.” Moccan engineers had been working on an electroshock stunning device for Moccans to use on Latians in self defense, but still hadn’t found a way to deliver enough of a shock to immobilize a Latian without it being a terrifyingly lethal weapon when used against Moccans. “There’s gotta be some way to zap a Latian without having to worry about absolutely frying another Moccan.”

  “Like anyone would trust you with it anyway,” said Kelsen.

  “That is an excellent point, but also, fuck you.”