---University---
We pass through the entrance to the enormous university building.
The floor of the wide, high-ceilinged atrium we cross is the same phosphorescent patterned rainbow as the outside.
It feels that no sooner have we gone in than we’re outside again out onto a… courtyard?
Of course! Terrans and R’qali both share a fondness for courtyards, though not for the same reason.
R’qali appreciate buildings with courtyards because it can allow for more convenient access to the outside, meaning that, if you need to fly somewhere, your time to take off is reduced.
Humans seem to value them for almost the opposite reason… the ability to have a space outside, that is protected by walls from the many, many, many threats of their cradleworld… I don’t believe they ever coexisted with aerial creatures that might have threatened them (unless you count disease bearing insects, which can also get inside, and… wasn’t there an island in their southern hemisphere where Humans coexisted with a gigantic eagle that hunted kwaratlike, massive landbirds until Terrans hunted its food source to extinction and it died out too?… I wonder if the natives of New Zealand built courtyards…)
Most other species look at courtyards as a waste of space, there’s outside outside, afterall! Why would you bring it inside and not use that floorspace for more building?
I’m glad Terrans and R’qali share a similar design aesthetic. It makes visiting their worlds much more enjoyable than visiting the drab, functional, boxy cities of concrete and glass that are ubiquitous across so much of the rest of the galaxy.
So few species appreciate the art of architecture, city design, ship building and similar disciplines!
Having crossed the courtyard, we make our way into the Reception, back onto that multicoloured patterned floor.
Msia speaks to the receptionist “How goes it this evening. I’m Dr Msia Zunberi, here to see Dr Nkasiogi Zunberi, with my crewmates and Captain, to make a delivery to the Deathworld Faunal Taming and Domestication Research department. We’re not delivering these two, though, just the ones on the trolley(!)” he gives a wink.
The woman raises an eyebrow at him, the Shings still mounted on his back.
She taps the screen in front of her and frowns slightly before saying “Sorry, Dr Zunberi but Dr Zunberi works in Conservation not Taming and Domestication, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, quite so. However, she is the one who has made this contact between us and her colleagues. I thought it proper to ask for her rather than asking to go straight to Taming and Domestication. I also, am ashamed to say that I did not think to ask the names of the people she is connecting us with. I… believe… she should have left a message explaining the situation…?”
Her eyes flick back down to her screen and she taps a few more times.
“Ah, here we are...” her eyes flash rapidly, back and forward, as she reads the text “Sorry for the confusion Dr Zunberi. You can go on up to your sister’s office: 7th floor, right out the lift, twelfth door on your left.”
He smiles and nods. He does not ask her to send a map to his holo, he doesn’t even ask her to repeat the instructions she rattled off, to give himself another chance to internalise them. He simply walks from the desk, leading the procession to the lift, the Shings adjusting their weight, in accordance with his sway, as he walks.
We enter the lift and Victor makes approving noises about the fact that the building levels are numbered by floor, not by storey, making Dr Zunberi’s office correctly (according to Victor) on the 7th rather than the 8th.
It really doesn’t seem to matter to me but it apparently does to Terrans because the rest of the journey is taken up with a lively debate about the merits of both systems.
The lift reaches the 7th floor and the Shings and I hop down from our respective platforms, as the corridor is empty.
Silence falls as Msia turns to face the door of, presumably, his sister’s office.
The nameplate reads 'Office of Dr Felicity Mink and Dr Nkasiogi Zunberi, Deathworld Conservation Department'
He knocks.
A few moments pass before a woman who is the spitting image of Msia (with the exception of her hair being bright blue) comes out, scowls and punches him in the arm.
There are a few moments where I believe that we are being ambushed. A punch that hard could only have been intended to kill, afterall! Why am I the only one who seems to realise we’re being attacked!? No one else is reacting! She wouldn’t have punched him like that, in front of a group this size, if she didn’t have reinforcements of her own, surely!?
Hastily, I look left and right, no one. I look into the room behind her… it does not appear to be teaming with [assassins].
Then our assailant pulls her brother into a deep hug as he nurses his arm.
“You fucking idiot!” she exclaims, miserably “You galivant off to the stars, you’re gone for years, you only call twice a month and now… I find out you’ve been fighting fucking pirate slavers! Oh and let’s not forget… sharing a dorm with a fucking mirkbeast and her litter!... No offence!” that latter aimed at Fluffy.
“Not offending. Kin dangerous being if wanting. Good careful being. But not wanting hurting uncle!” responds Fluffy.
Msia, his face caught between expressing a smile and expressing his clear continuing pain at having been delivered a bone crushing punch, pats his sister’s back and says “It’s good to see you too, Kas… I’ll try to call more often.”
She straightens up and responds “You better!... Now, why don’t you and your friends come in and we can do introductions?”
We file in to the large shared office, its other occupant is a feline woman with heterochromic eyes, entirely black fur, bar a white patch at her mouth and a mop of head hair in deep indigo.
“Dr Zunberi.” nods the catwoman, with a scowl.
“Felicity.” replies Msia with a crestfallen frown.
I wonder what that’s about…
“Nobody mind those two: They used to fuck.” declares Msia’s sister.
…well, I didn’t have to wonder long. This Zunberi is certainly blunt! She’s quite different from her soft spoken, mild mannered brother.
Introductions are made between our party and Drs Zunberi and Mink.
When I am introduced as Msia’s captain, his sister hesitates very slightly. Her eyes narrow, for but a moment. Is she… appraising me?
The mirklets receive many scritches and admiring ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s from the two women.
Eventually Dr Zunberi announces that it’s time to depart for the Taming and Domestication department.
She informs us that though it’s on the same floor, it is rather a [trek].
It is indeed, a [trek]. It’s almost exactly on the other side of the building and takes several minutes to walk to.
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As we navigate our way there, we are treated to a spectacular view of the courtyard surrounded by the vibrant insides of the university’s main building through the windows of the corridor.
We arrive and are invited into a large room that is a discordant maelstrom of activity.
There are many dozens of creatures tumbling, running, playing, sleeping, squawking. They are mostly of the furred variety but there are also reptiles, avians and a few whose order I can’t even identify.
The Terrans in our group have instinctively formed a wall of their bodies to protect me and the Shings. They’re very right to do so, the activity of all those dense little deathworld potential-pets makes this an unsafe environment for those of a fragile constitution… I don’t know if they even notice themselves doing it… I think they may have just all unconsciously put themselves between the fragile ones and the sources of potential breakage!
I now notice there are also a few animate dendroid and herbaceous creatures frolicking among the others. It seems not even plants are safe from Terrans’ allconsuming love of cute(!)
At this point a very sweaty but very happy looking man disentangles himself from the flurry and makes his way to us through the throng of flailing fuzz, that various Terrans are tending to, playing with and chasing after.
The man introduces himself as Dr Raul Gomes and has all of us introduced to him by the combined efforts of the Zunberis (Msia’s sister barely needs help to remember all of our names)
He asks if we wouldn’t mind coming to the room, in which his colleague is preparing to receive the mirklets, and we begin making our way down the side corridor that he indicates.
He draws nearer and breathes a relieved sigh.
“Oh! That’s nice! Your climate control fields feel amazing with how hot I am!”
I frown “Why don’t you climate control the room, if you find the heat so unpleasant?” I ask, quizzically.
He chuckles “If we did that, the beasties wouldn’t like it! Those ones in there are ones that thrive in Zanzibarilike climates. I guess I could wear a personal one, like yours, but then the little ones wouldn’t want to come near me and that would break my heart! It’s better this way. It means I get to play with them and enjoy the relief of stepping back into the cool! It is always a bit of a relief when the rota puts me tending cooler clime animals, though...”
Interesting.
“With how much your species loves playing with cute things, I’m surprised there are any Terrans who are willing to tolerate doing a job other than yours(!) You’re willing to put up with regular risk of heatstroke for it, afterall…” I quip.
He laughs heartily and responds “Yes, it definitely looks like a dreamjob but don’t be fooled… there’s a lot to it, that’s not as fun as playtime! I’ve had quite the collection of bites in my time… there’s the cleanup… the paperwork… but I definitely wouldn’t trade places with anyone!” with clear fulfilment.
We come to a door which Dr Gomes indicates as the room prepared for the mirklets. The door is opened to reveal a wide, tall room with a flat area in the middle surrounded by a rough, unevenly surfaced bowl, with faux bushes here and there… seemingly mimicking the rocky Terrain of a’Teksia 3’s Twilight Zone. The room is dimly lit and a wall mounted temperature gage reads 12°C. My translator informs me that that is around two thirds of the way between the freezing point of water and the temperature my climate field is set to.
In the corner there is a man alternately tapping away at his holopad and glancing up at the room.
“Luul!” shouts Dr Gomes, causing the other man to start. He apparently hadn’t noticed us come in. So a Terran is capable of being taken by surprise… though, seemingly, only when engrossed in a task… and in an area that they consider satisfactorily safe.
The man puts his holopad away and jogs over to us down the rough slope (which barely seems to give him trouble!) “Peace be upon you. I’m Dr Luul Saabir, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” he says, slightly breathlessly.
Victor extends his hand and says “And upon you peace.”
They shake hands as Dr Saabir gives an amused smile.
Another round of introductions follow.
“This is a fantastic recreation of the landscape and climate of a’Teksia!” declares Victor.
Dr Saabir smiles abashedly “Yes, well, I did my best with the information you sent and what was available publicly. The moment of truth will be what the mother thinks of it. Are you willing to let us remove your climate controls, Ma’am?”
Fluffy responds “Yes, seeing if good for kinchilds being.”
“Would you do the honours, Sir?” Dr Gomes asks Victor.
Victor nods before coming to Fluffy’s lower left shoulder and switches off the generator, deactivating the climate field for her front half.
“How’s that Fluffy?” queries Victor “Good? Too warm? Too cold?”
Fluffy’s eyes narrow “All removing… then telling.”
Victor nods and moves to her haunch to deactivate the generator clipped into her fur there.
It’s unusual for a being to be so long as to require two generators but… Fluffy is an unusual being!
Dr Saabir suggests “If that isn’t immediately unpleasant, why don’t you try moving around a little? If anything’s wrong just come back and tell us.”
Dipping that enormous head in a Terran nod, Fluffy darts off over the uneven terrain surrounding the middle of the room. The speed and silence with which she passes over the ground, coupled with the half light and her colouration, mean that I have tremendous difficulty keeping track of her.
It’s frightening to imagine being an a’Teksian prey animal with a mirkbeast stalking me!
After a minute or so of frolic, Fluffy returns to the middle of the room and declares “Perfect being! [Horizon] being! [Coolth] being! Perfect being!” clearly out of breath.
As a stealth ambush predator, her stamina is about on par with Tuun’s and less like that of high stamina Terrans.
There is a general hubbub of relief that it seems no adjustments need to be made.
Then Dr Gomes says “Well then, I believe all that remains is to interview Fluffy and Victor, just to see if there’s anything further we can divulge to adopters, about the experience of being the guardian of a mirkbeast and a mirkbeast pet.”
Victor starts “Mage actually has…”
“Feather Grandmother coming!” interrupts Fluffy… that was not a request…
Drs Gomes and Saabir look quizzically at her, then at Victor, then at me.
“She’s sayin’ she won’t speak without Cap bein’ there.” states Victor.
“Oh, well, I don’t see any issue with that?” Dr Saabir says, looking to Dr Gomes for confirmation.
“None at all, it might actually be good to get a gardenworlder’s perspective on the relationship and experience of sharing a ship with a mirkbeast. If Fluffy wants her in the interview we’re happy to have her in the interview.” beams Dr Gomes.
“Speakin’ of…” smiles Victor “…Mage, over there, has a list o’ people who have indicated interest in adoptin’ a mirkbeast. One was a man we met on the way here, who reckoned his granddaughter might like one. Everyone else is one of the ones we rescued… we sorta did some informal therapy sessions with ’em. They’re all gardenworlders, we said we weren’t sure how feasible it’d be for ’em to look after a deathworld carnivore but the ones we didn’t put off with that said to pass on their details.”
“Oh, that’s actually fantastic!” exclaims Dr Gomes “You have no idea how much sifting we have to do to weed out people just looking for a fashion accessory! I’m particularly worried about the purple one, Gloam(?), purple is fashionable right now and I think there’s a nonzero chance that he’ll be adopted, taken to a few parties and then abandoned! If you’ve already got people with an emotional connection to or sincere interest in them, that’ll make things much easier!... It’s… not ideal that they’re gardenworlders… or that they’re recent trauma victims but… if they can prove they’ll meet all the other requirements, they’ll get preference over people from our lists.”
Krish, looks outraged “There are people who’d adopt an animal just to take it to a party!? Then abandon them, rather than returning them?!?!?!”
Dr Saabir nods, unhappily “It’s quite a problem. It’s a crime of course but they’d have to be caught. Returning a pet, that you’re done using as a prop is just enough extra effort that those with no conscience prefer to just take them somewhere remote, kick them out of the transport and fly off. Usually, nature does its work. But sometimes, abandoned pets become invasive species and need to be culled off. It’s terrible and we do our absolute utmost to filter the kind of person, who would do that, out of our pool of potential adopters.”
I look around and see that every Terran face, bar Saabir’s and Gomes’, is twisted in disgust. Hasiakh’s is also twisted in disgust… the Shings’ are showing concern… mine… is… oh!... Mine’s twisted in disgust!
Terrans are so noble so much of the time that the idea of any of them being so callous, so heartless, rankles me! I suppose, anything you can say of Terrans, the opposite is also true of some of them…
“Sorry to have to bring that up…” says Dr Gomes “…I’ll get that list off Dr Zunberi and then we can begin the interview!”
I smile.
These seem like good Terrans with us now.
---one interview later---
“Alright Fluffy, as you’re not quite done weening the mirklets yet, would you be happy to stay here at the university for a while? You can finish with that and, while you’re here, you can help us find loving homes for them?” asks Dr Saabir.
Fluffy’s eyes narrow suspiciously “[Star cave] not leaving me on [Hot]?”
Victor laughs “I ain’t leavin’ you here, baby! I’d hijack the ship myself, to come back for you, if we left without you!” while jiggling her torso with hearty, reassuring pets.
I frown “Maybe, as my head of security, you shouldn’t so freely admit to a willingness to hijack my ship, Victor! Though… you have my permission to hijack the ship… should that circumstance arise(!)”
There is general mirth at this.
“Alright, staying… Helping finding homes for kinchilds.” nods Fluffy, seemingly satisfied that she will not be abandoned… was it because abandonment was mentioned earlier…? That’s quite an abstraction to make, for a semisapient!
We reenter the mirklet adapted room, to see all of our companions, joined by a few of the department’s researchers, admiring the whizzing and fwipping of mirklets around the uneven, upward sloped ground at the sides of the room.
Fluffy joins and immediately becomes the convergence point for her children.
“All done?” asks Msia’s sister.
“Think so.” answer Victor and Dr Gomes, in unison, before attempting to [jinx] eachother, whatever that means… my translator is saying something about curses…?
“Alright, who’s up for a drink?” asks Dr Zunberi.
There is some conferring before it is determined that all the Triple Ms, bar Krish and Hasiakh, would like to come for drinks. The Shings indicate that they would like to be conveyed back to the ship by the two Triple Ms, and not to come for drinks.
“Cap?” asks Victor.
I have a choice to make.
“I’ll… come for drinks, I think… though… I’ll need to have something with no alcohol…”