3. Assumptions got me into trouble, always.

THREE

Assumptions got me into trouble, always.

Something hummed nearby, soft and soothing in its regularity. I suspected it belonged to a machine meant to keep the room an appropriate temperature based on my personal biology during revival. Some people fevered, some suffered through chills, and those who performed frequent revivals had equipment capable of addressing such complications.

A light breeze played over my bare skin, indicating I maintained my temperature, another good sign I would emerge from stasis without significant distress. The relief over detecting some sound and recognizing it washed through me, and I basked in its glory.

Before the accident, such tones would have fallen into the nuisance category.

No longer. After months of silence, the humble hum consumed my attention, distracting from the other issues I should have dealt with, including attempting to open my eyes. I assumed I resided in a medical ward on some ship. Anywhere else would have had more noise.

On Schwana Major, hospitals monitored vitals with beeping machines and other tones, and the staff tended to use those cues to help them determine if a patient required assistance. They would turn the volume down or off in some circumstances, but the times I’d visited before the crash, they’d always been on.

I hadn’t done much digging into the why of it. My general inclination to make assumptions often got me in trouble.

Once I got back on my feet, a process that could range between a few hours to several weeks, due to a variety of potential complications associated with restored hearing and altered biology, I’d make a point of changing my way of thinking.

Assumptions got me into trouble, always.

I opened my eyes to behold a feathered muzzle loaded with sharp, pointy teeth. In the few seconds it took me to process the existence of something large and predatory in my space, my brain opted to be of use for once, identifying the green plumage, nose and nostrils, and the elongated face leading up to a crest as belonging to a Veloc.

The identification of the being helped a little.

Veloc liked humans—and not just for dinner.

I blinked, and the muzzle remained close, tilting this way and that. After a few moments, I realized the Veloc concentrated on something nearby on the edge of the hospital bed. As the predator paid me no mind, I opted to do the basic checks, determining I would be irritated by the IV catheter installed on my right arm given ten minutes and any reminder of its presence. While not truly uncomfortable, I disliked the sensation and would be doing my best to ignore it until set free from the contraption making sure my body kept functioning appropriately.

As they had not contained my left arm, my fingers moved on command, and the predator remained in my space, I decided it seemed fair to discover for myself if the feathers on the Veloc’s muzzle were as soft and plush as they appeared.

One day, I would die due to petting something I shouldn’t. I’d find out in the next few moments if today would be that day.

Appearances did not deceive, and the downy feathers and fur of the Veloc pleased me enough I settled into the serious business of stroking the entire length of the Veloc’s nose before exploring the equally soft chin.

The Veloc blew air, and after a moment, let out a throaty chuckle. “This is the first time a patient has decided I am a pet. How interesting.”

From voice alone, I guessed the Veloc was male.

I wanted to cry, but I wouldn’t—not until I could be alone to cope with my relief. As the Veloc hadn’t removed my hand yet, I continued my petting activities. “Their loss,” I replied, pleased I managed to get the words out, although my voice proved to be hoarse and raspy. I suspected my time being deaf contributed to that, as I had been hesitant to say anything upon learning I had zero ability to regulate my volume without the ability to hear. “Veloc species summaries need to be updated. You’re soft enough to be worth risking death to pet.”

“I was under the impression you have no xenodiversity training.”

I swallowed, tore my gaze away from the Veloc, and discovered a tray with a small cup of water and a straw on my left side. Abandoning my exploration of the Veloc’s muzzle, I shrugged and grabbed the drink and went to work relieving the dryness in my throat. Once my tongue resumed proper operation, I asked, “How was my revival time?”

“You revived from stasis in a rather impressive fifteen minutes, and you spent an additional thirty minutes enjoying the hum of the white noise generator, as our ward tends to be silent. We did not wish to cause panic should the operation have gone as planned. It seems it has done its job well. We have worked with other deafened patients, although the nature of their injuries allowed us to perform more conventional operations. You challenged us, and we’ve learned a great deal about homo sapiens biology. This should prove most helpful should others be in a situation like yours, where conventional treatments do not work. Your new ears still heal, so I do ask you try to keep from patting your head for a few days. We kept you under sedation until the itching phase mostly completed. We quickly determined the itch drives you quite close to madness. It is unlikely you remember the episode, as you were still under light sedation.”

When I’d been initially healing from the shard being embedded in my skull, the itching had about driven me mad. “I apologize.”

The Veloc trilled. “Don’t apologize, for you did nothing wrong. We have a copy of your medical record, and there was a notation regarding the severity of the healing itch you had suffered through initially. We used the opportunity to test alternative treatments for it. They did not help, alas.” Pulling out of my easy range, the Veloc straightened to his full height, and his emerald crest rose, displaying a collection of small crystals dangling from decorative chains. “My name is Herserael, and I am of the Emerald Crests. I am pleased to be of service. To enable the mercy ship to continue her good work, we have transferred you to our ship. Her name is Wild Huntress , and we typically use her for research, medical rescue, or romantic pursuits.”

While I’d heard rumor the Veloc were the undisputed romantics of the known universe, I hadn’t thought the stereotype to be serious. I’d thought the predators being willing to eat annoying humans to be more of a concern than any potential to be chased around space by a lovesick feathered murder machine.

The teacher who’d called them feathered murder machines even liked the Veloc—from a safe distance, where he wouldn’t be in range to experience the lethality rating of their talons. With a close-up view of said curved talons, I understood my teacher’s hesitancies.

Should the Veloc take exception to my existence, I wouldn’t be worrying about much of anything for long.

I forced myself to focus on the predator, considered his words, and blinked as what he said sank in. “Romantic pursuits?” I blurted. “In a spaceship ?”

Herserael displayed his teeth in a grin. “My people enjoy lengthy hunts for a mate. This is one of the ships we use if someone in the clan wishes to pursue someone who travels among the stars. Alas, the only single entity among our crew is young Waldren, who is quite picky about females, surly by nature, and perhaps a little too responsible for our liking. When he was given young Palta as a kitten, he swore he would do his best for her species, originally from Earth. We do our best for the species no longer able to return home. Unlike most of her kind, Palta enjoys traveling the stars, and where Waldren goes, she goes. She had her second litter of kittens an Earth year ago, and they are now fending for themselves with the care of new handlers, so she is free to roam for a few more years. Then she will have another litter of kittens. She’s a most excellent feline mother and has strong, healthy litters. I have pictures if you would like to see them.”

“I would,” I replied, my eyes widening at the thought of kittens. “Are they cute?”

“Oh, the Andean mountain cats define what it is to be cute. Small but fierce, determined, and quite skilled at hunting. We Veloc enjoy taking these small but fierce predators with us on our hunts. In the wilds on Earth, they were more inclined to hunt alone unless mating or rearing kittens, but time has changed them as well as the nature of space and space travel. Now the cats partner with a homo sapiens , and when a pairing forms, they stay together for life. Palta has not found her previous feline suitors worth taking into space with her, so she encouraged the males to go bother another female. She is quite prideful. Should she find a male worthy of her attention, young Waldren will have two companions for life.”

Was Palta prideful? I remembered a purring bundle of fluff desiring attention. Did prideful felines seek attention? I realized I knew little of the animal I’d received DNA from to restore my hearing. “Is there a way to ask a cat if they’re okay to have their DNA stolen?”

The Veloc hooted, and after a moment, I realized he laughed. “We were able to instill a basic understanding of why we stole a small vial of her blood, and she got to observe parts of your surgery, including the regeneration of your new ears. As yours are not working anymore, one part due to the catastrophic damage to your eardrums and inner ears, you now have a pair of cat ears much like hers. You also have a tail much like hers as well. You won’t have noticed that yet because of the localized painkillers mitigating the itching at the growth sites. You’ll have an interesting time buying your attire in the future. We’ve noticed hybridization tends to result in tail growth in homo sapiens , so we did anticipate that. We were concerned you might grow claws, but we managed to limit the DNA alterations to your ears and tail. You’ll find the tail to be useful for balancing once you get the hang of it.”

“I have a cat tail now?”

“You do.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Will I be able to purr?”

The Veloc’s feathers fluffed, and then he whistled, hooted, and bobbed his head. “We are uncertain if your vocals have changed, so we would have to experiment with things that content you. Should you begin to purr, the answer is yes. As it is, we’re in relatively new territory. While we can—and do—graft onto species fairly often, we did extensive genetic manipulation coupled with regenerative sciences, something not commonly done on adults. Genetic manipulations are often handled when the subject is young—an infant or still within the womb, to mitigate risk of trauma.”

Interesting. If I suffered from trauma from the changes, I couldn’t detect any of the signs of it. I expected to deal with trauma from the crash, however. “Do I still qualify as homo sapiens ?”

“You do. As Palta’s species originates from Earth, you will enjoy additional protections. That does lead me to what we need to discuss next. When we were reviewing your medical file, we found some issues likely stemming from the injuries you suffered during the crash. Under normal circumstances, we would have consulted with you first, but as we were using regenerative technologies as it was, we opted to go ahead and repair the organs in question. There were three in particular, excluding your brain, that had undergone significant trauma.”

Ah. I had accepted I would die younger than most as a result of the crash. If the evolvulite crystal in my head didn’t kill me, the various other sources of damage likely would. “My lungs were compromised, although I was told I would regain ninety-two percent functionality, which is sufficient for my career. My kidneys and liver were also compromised, but not enough to disqualify me for my work. My hearing was the issue.”

“There is the issue of your ovaries and reproductive system,” the Veloc stated.

I stared at him. “I have one ovary left; one had been completely destroyed. My uterus was damaged beyond repair.”

“We corrected that,” he announced. “While we could not help you traditionally with your ears, we were able to use regenerative operations on all organs damaged in the accident. As such, you’re going to suffer from some hormonal fluctuations. We will need to do some treatments until your body regulates itself.”

My mouth dropped open, as I’d read the documentation the mercy ship had provided to me. They lacked regenerative machinery, as those tended to take a long time per patient, and their job was to save as many lives as possible. I’d occupied the entire ship for long enough. “I can’t afford that.”

The treatments started at a minimum of a hundred thousand standard galactic tokens per organ, a sum far over what I earned working for the school and taking on side jobs as needed for luxury spending.

The Veloc cooed, and he came close, bumping his soft muzzle to my cheek. “Do not stress yourself, little flower. You will not have any debts from your treatments. You are willing to let us experiment, and this in turn will help us save lives later. You will come deep into space with us while we introduce you to new species and monitor you, who has had no xenodiversity training. That I do not terrify you is a marvel. Waldren’s reaction to us the first time we met? Delightful. He can run quite far, quite fast. Not as fast as a Veloc, but he provided us with some good sport. He was under the impression his sister needed to be rescued. In reality, she was being romanced by one of my kin and found him to be pleasing. As such, she kept him.”

I grinned at the thought of the feathered murder machines chasing after Waldren and scaring the life out of him. “That sounds like quite the story.”

“I would be pleased to tell it to you, and I will do so when he is present so you can delight in his reactions. His face tells a story as well, and I would not wish to rob you of such joy. Now that I have confirmed your revival statistics for our registry, we will begin preparing you for life in space. You have not been conditioned for space, correct?”

“Those courses would have been next year,” I replied, fighting off the surge of disappointment. While my schooling and plans were on hold, probably permanently, I had something better: a guaranteed ticket to the great unknown. “I’m insufficiently trained for my intended role in expeditions.”

“You are perfect for our needs. There are few homo sapiens with a willingness to venture into space without conditioning, and those who do are victims of trafficking or kidnapping. We help them overcome their trauma, but we do not learn about the consequences of space without conditioning. I did not expect your natural xenodiversity rating, but I am sure you will be tested on the journey somehow—and we will be watching your reactions when that moment comes.”

“Where are we at now?” I asked.

“We are in orbit around your home world. Waldren suggested that we should make certain you can see the planet in her full glory before we depart. The mercy ship has long gone, but we have access to a ferry for supplies, and we have gone to the surface as needed.”

Huh. The surly Waldren had wanted me to be able to view my home before our departure? The unexpected gesture gave me pause, and I considered my initial impression of the man. Upon determining I would need to study the man and his cat further, I asked, “How long has it been?”

“You’ve been sleeping for three weeks,” he reported.

I appreciated the strange sense of balance the time offered. For three weeks after the crash, I had battled for my life, emerging deaf and without prospects. Three weeks to gain back my hearing was a small price to pay. “Well, that’s going to involve rehab,” I muttered.

The Veloc hooted a laugh. “Less than you think. We made use of some new techniques to minimize the damage bedrest typically does. You should be stable on your feet without much work and ready for most activities within a week. You’ll be able to start walking as soon as I remove the catheter and bring you clothes, although I will help you dress. You may experience vertigo from your new ears. This is something we have little experience with, as most who gain these adaptations are not otherwise deafened. We did do what we could for your eardrums and inner ears, but I can’t promise if the evolvulite embedded within your brain will ever allow for you to hear as you once did. But before that, I have questions, and they will surely drive you mad by the time we finish.”

“Do your worst, Herserael. Anything to repay my debt to you and everyone who helped me.”