8. “What’s the bad news?”

EIGHT

“What’s the bad news?”

Twelve hours after our arrival, night fell, and Waldren began analyzing the stars to determine our location. That the ship was unable to immediately pinpoint our location from the basic star charts thrilled him. The Veloc heaved resigned sighs and settled in to wait for the verdict.

It took four hours, but the ship finally beeped, and Waldren checked on the system. After a few moments, he burst out laughing. “This could be worse, but it could be better, too.”

The Veloc straightened, and their crests rose.

Alban hopped over, gave himself a shake, and asked, “Where are we, little one?”

“It’s an unidentified habitable planet, but it’s on the edge of known space. We’re about six weeks out from the edge of mapped space—and I updated my star charts right before departure. We’re in a quadrant flagged for probable shiftgem gates. The bad news? If we find one, we won’t know where it goes.”

“Well, that’s the definition of risky,” I muttered. “What’s the bad news?”

“The edge of mapped space is two or three of our lifetimes to reach the nearest shiftgem gate. We only have this map because of generational ships that wandered this way.” Waldren shrugged. “Assuming we can find our way home, if we can gather plant and animal samples, do a complete toxicology report of this region, and perform a flyby of the planet to count continents, we’ll get a hefty bonus for identifying a habitable planet. Herserael, are you current on new species import rules?”

“Toxicology tests are required, pesticides need to be used, and a DNA sample needs to be taken. If dead, stasis is required, but live specimens may be transported for evaluation,” the Veloc reported. “You could make use of that stasis machine that cost the clan a fortune.”

“I could, but I don’t want to kill off a bunch of animals for no reason. If the planet seems safe, I’ll have you four scout and find out which species are plentiful. If it looks safe for your consumption, we’ll gather samples that way. Are you handy with a camera, Camellia?”

“I trained with them for data gathering,” I replied.

“Excellent. You’ll register species, and I’ll put you in charge of plant sample collections. Plant parts I don’t mind putting into stasis, especially if you can gather seeds of the various species.”

Seed gathering I could do; my first year, we’d spent days upon days upon days practicing gathering seeds of all types, and once we’d gathered them, we’d been expected to store them and grow them the following year. “I can do that. I know how to store them safely outside of stasis, and I’m trained on gathering the appropriate soil samples for testing.”

Alban cooed. “Such a useful little human. Then the plants shall be your domain, and the animals shall be ours. Waldren shall pretend he is lord over this domain while we ignore most of his posturing.”

“He has a very important job to do,” I reminded the Veloc. “He must pet Palta and convince her she is the most loved being in the universe.”

Waldren sighed. “While you’re not wrong, could you at least pretend I am useful?”

“You can fly the ship. I can’t. As the sole person on board truly qualified to fly the ship, you must assign the dirty work to the expendable.” I snickered at his perplexed expression. “You’re plenty useful, especially to Palta. We can’t risk breaking her precious little heart should the planet have adverse opinions to our presence.”

The Veloc hooted their laughter and bobbed their heads.

“All right. Camellia, you’re in charge of evaluating the plant life to determine if it’ll generally be safe for us to leave the beach. The Veloc will serve as giant guard birds.”

“I’d rather have a giant guard bird than a guard dog right now,” I admitted, pointing at Alban’s capped claws. “I’m fairly confident those can tear through metal. And while dogs can bite, I’m pretty sure most dog breeds can’t compare to a Veloc in the biting department.”

Waldren chuckled. “You would be correct.”

“Palta is only better than a Veloc because she’s cuter, her fur is soft, and she likes when I pet her.”

Waldren nodded. “Those factors do make Palta the reigning champion of predators on board this vessel.”

“Exactly. So your job is the most important. Palta must be kept happy and comfortable for her stay on this planet. We should name the planet after her, and don’t forget the numeric designations so it’s validated.”

He raised a brow a me. “I see you have undergone some training regarding exploratory sciences and regulations.”

“I don’t know if there’s a planet named Palta, but if there isn’t, there should be. And this one should be it.”

After a moment, Waldren eyed the nearest monitor. “There are no planets named Palta, so we’ll dub this one Palta 001. We’ll name the moons, after we get a count of them, Andean after her originating home. This is now the planet of the cats.”

Alban cleared his throat. “You forget something, little ones.”

“What have we forgotten?” Waldren demanded.

“What if there are sentients on this world?”

Waldren deflated. “We’ll do the sentient checks and hope for the best. New worlds with sentients on them are so complicated.”

“Why don’t we do a flyby of the planet and check for cities and organized civilization by air?” the Veloc suggested. “Then we will be less likely to be surprised. We can mark this location on our charts and return to it.”

“Without knowing the precise size and orientation of the planet, we’d have to drop a beacon, and I don’t know if the beacon will be strong enough. Let’s start our investigation here. The beach is likely the safest place for us to begin an exploratory endeavor. We have no idea what is in those trees. We have no idea what’s beneath the sand, but I’d rather try my luck with the sand and the ocean than dropping us on the ground. That’s a quick way to die. We’ll do the flyby after we determine if this region is safe.”

Herserael cleared his throat. “It is not much of a plan, but it is a better one than I have. I think he has the right idea. Let us check the location we know before exploring further. Once we know more about the world in this location, then we can see what else it has to offer.”

Waldren owned a modern analyzer, the kind my teachers spoke about in longing whispers. We’d gotten to look over the manuals of such machines, but we’d been at least a decade behind on the style he held. In good news for me, having read the manuals and done comparatives against the ones we had used, I was able to isolate the best way to collect samples, record findings, and retrieve the data, the three primary tools I needed to do my job. I pouted and regarded Waldren with wide eyes. “You’re better equipped than my school.”

Alban hooted, came over, and gave the back of my head a thorough scratching with his capped claws. While I couldn’t perceive the itching, the sense of relief and enjoyment remained. “She likes your toys, Waldren. This is the expression of a woman who will be surely stricken with heartbreak if you take her new toy from her.”

“I mean, I’m glad that damned thing brings someone joy on this ship, because all it does is cause me pain and suffering,” the man replied, and after a moment, he burst into laughter. “Her medications are going to be wearing off within the next half an hour, and her reaction to having her itches scratched is all the warning I need. Get the medications before she bites us.”

Still hooting his amusement, Alban left to do as Waldren asked. Once the Veloc departed, he said, “I had worried the school was behind on tech, but you seem comfortable enough with that.”

“We had access to the instruction manuals of the good models, and we compared them to our models. The idea is the same, there is just more buttons, better functionality, and it’s generally easier to use.” I flipped the device over to examine the sensors. “This even has an insert probe. What do we use to clean it?”

“It will clean itself. Part of the probe’s test is to monitor any substances on it while it superheats to sterilize it. Once it has charred anything on the probe, it uses some vibrations and a burst of air to remove the leftover matter. I’ll give you sterilization cloths, but it does seem to work. I don’t know if I really understand how, but it’s self-cleaning, and I haven’t seen any evidence yet of contaminated samples.”

I wanted one of my own. “Hit me with it. How much is this?”

“Three million,” he confessed, grimacing and glancing at the other Veloc in the quarantine bay, who were preparing for our first venture onto the beach. “They don’t have many ships, not like some of the other clans do, so the ones they do have get tricked out. I fly for them, but the ship is mine and they pay me for the work, as I am notorious about trying to dodge gifts. They wanted to go to a newly discovered planet, but the mandates for the planet required data analysis and toxicology run. They needed a scanner, so the bastards decided part of my pay was this specific toy. And since they tossed it in as part of my pay, I couldn’t refuse.”

Clever, clever Veloc. “You’d probably suffer a great deal less if you just accepted their gifts.”

“They would win if I did that,” he replied in a solemn tone.

Men. Species didn’t matter; men were men, and I’d yet to meet a male who could readily set aside their pride for their benefit. Pride always interfered somehow. “But if losing means you get toys like this, I would lie down on the altar of gift receiving and wait patiently.” I gestured to Palta, who engaged a scratching post with dangling toy in the corner I’d learned was hers should we need to go into quarantine. “You’d lose for Palta.”

“I would,” he admitted. “With genetic manipulation and restoration, she’ll probably outlive me. And the instant we’re back home, I’m going to take my share of the bounty earnings, do a refit of the ship, and make space for her to have a companion. I can’t be with her all the time, and space travel can be lonely, especially for a cat as social as she is. I won’t enjoy the next few months of her hissing at the males I introduce to her, but here’s hoping she actually likes one for more than basic breeding purposes.”

“Maybe get her a female friend for companionship?” I suggested.

The look of utter horror Waldren shot me reduced me to tears of laughter.

“One litter of kittens tests his patience,” Herserael informed me, coming over to peer at me before whistling. “But she makes a good point. You could both get pairs of females, and once all the felines are properly bonded to their owners, they will be able to mingle as a small colony. Then you can bring various males around for their entertainment, deal with all the kittens at one time, and strongly help with their natural diversification. We could acquire a set of four males to keep on our world so your kittens form a stronger genetic base. If we mix and match the males and females, then we can repeat the process with the next generation but more exterior males—and make a strong collection of good male stock for those with unrelated females abroad. We can use the ship to transport the breeding candidates.”

“So many kittens,” Waldren muttered, shaking his head. “Last litter, I couldn’t count all the little bastards on both hands!”

“Palta is quite skilled at providing her loving owner with large, healthy litters,” the Veloc cooed in reply. “You are just upset you had to find homes for so many wondrous animals.”

“I should have kept one,” he grumbled.

“You sold them for a hundred thousand credits each, far below their market value, and only to good homes that were willing to sign documentation establishing their responsibilities to pet and species. You are merely upset because you will have to do many contracts with this ploy, and you hate paperwork.”

“So much paperwork.” Waldren bowed his head. “It’s a good idea, but I’d have to overhaul the entire ship.”

“Or buy a new one, which discovering this planet would allow you to do. And you can keep this one as your trainer ship when working with young, beautiful pilots like the lovely Camellia here.”

“Even with the haul from discovering a planet, I can’t afford a new ship, especially not with the number of shiftgem crystals I would need to set the drive up. Sure, I could buy the body and main parts and get her built, but the engine would be an issue.”

The Veloc’s crest snapped up, and he hooted, trilled, and clicked something at Waldren, who scowled before replying in the same language. Herserael’s reply, which involved some hissing and clacking, triggered a rapid-fire discussion between the two, and the rate of hisses increased with each exchange.

Expecting feathers to start flying, I headed for the hallway, poked my head through, and hollered, “I think Waldren’s getting into a fight with a feathered murder machine, and I’m not sure who is going to win.”

Alban, armed with the small medical box I recognized as containing my various medications, hurried down the hall, his feathers standing on end. I got out of the way so he could peer into the quarantine bay. A moment later, he burst into hooting laughter. “They are fighting over you. Waldren appears to be offended that Herserael suggested you be trained on an inferior ship should he upgrade this one—quite due, really. Herserael is just egging Waldren on at this point, as he has an enjoyment of pushing shiny red buttons. What started this?”

“Herserael suggested we get all female cats and start a breeding program. I started it because I asked about finding Palta a female companion. Herserael just added fuel to the fire.”

Alban’s feathers smoothed, and he spent a few moments preening and situating himself. “He is heartbroken every time he lets any of the kittens go, so this tracks. He loves his cats dearly, even the kittens he sends off to bond with other sentients. He may not be the easiest to get along with, all bristly and determined to be independent, but he has a tender heart for the furry ones.”

That I could believe. Then a thought struck me. Had Waldren’s behavior to me changed solely because I possessed tidbits of Palta’s genetics? I could believe that, too.

He lived because of her, and he cherished everything about his furry companion. While I wanted to think that our ability to work together and spend time together had grown because of me, I realized Palta played an equal role.

Palta liked me, so Waldren did his best to like me, too.

“Maybe me getting cats isn’t really a good idea,” I mumbled.

Alban cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

“If I get cats, and I leave to do whatever it is I’ll end up doing, it’ll hurt him because he likes cats that much. Perhaps it would be best to wait.”

The Veloc’s crest snapped up, and he considered me through a single eye, tilting his head this way and that. The motion reminded me of an inquisitive bird pondering how best to solve some problem. “Ah. I see. You are an affectionate, tender being, and you would rather hurt yourself than others.”

I couldn’t refute his statement, so I shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I can be selfish at times.” I gestured to my head and my tail. “I have these because of my selfish pride.”

“No, you have those because of your steadfast determination. Your dreams require ears which can hear. The tail is just an adorable bonus. No, that was not selfish pride. You have places you wish to go and dreams you refuse to give up your hold on. It is not selfish pride to listen to your heart’s song. That is caring for yourself, something that every being must do from time to time to thrive. Do not berate yourself for caring for your future.” Alban crouched, opened the box, and pulled out several syringes and a folding mirror. “Today, you will get to see your ears in their full glory. The itching should subside in the next few days, but it is time you begin your journey towards accepting everything you now are. I will do the injections first as a precaution. It has healed enough you may touch your ears and tail now.”

My eyes widened. After five minutes of enduring needle pricks and some poking and prodding, he opened the mirror and pointed it my way.

I remained me with the exception of a pair of ears similar to Palta’s although not quite the same. Mine were darker, matching my hair. I twisted around for a look at my tail, which was a darker version of Palta’s, matching my natural coloration. “I thought I’d be the same colors as her.”

Alban resumed observing the pair in the quarantine bay. “We modified the genes slightly to better adapt to your personal biology. It’s part of the hybridization process. While Palta contributed the genetics, we took those genetics and made them yours. They’re her tail and ears, but they’re your colors. We’ve found basic color matching during hybridization is easier on the patient. Children with hybridization that kept their animal’s natural coloration tended to have issues with the coloration. Their adaptations didn’t feel part of them , so we modify all hybrids now to account for that. Your eyes see that your fur is the same color as your hair and eyebrows, and it feels more natural, as though it truly belongs to you. You should be able to look in the mirror and understand that Palta contributed the genetics but the fur is yours . The difference may appear small, but it’s an important part of sentient psychology. There are some individuals who are tolerant of hybridization as an adult. They’re evaluated through a more minor modification to test their tolerances. And well, there are those who have given themselves completely new bodies through the art of science, altering their genetics so completely they are no longer their birth species.”

“That’s really an issue?”

“Mhmm. You have already associated yourself with Palta, your donor. You are hesitating to indulge in something you would like and beginning the initial stages of isolation, as you fear a lack of separation between you and her. This is not the case. All Palta donated was a small sample of blood and her genetics. You are not her, and she is not truly a part of you. You share certain genetic traits now, but her genetic material donation is just a sliver of the entity that is you. Felines like Palta share 90.2% of their DNA with homo sapiens. This is why we’re able to modify your genetic code with hers. There are already so many underlying similarities in your genetics. And as such, we can tweak your genetics to allow for the growth of a new set of ears and a tail.” Alban whistled. “Now they are fighting about how you could possibly be comfortable without at least two cats of your very own to pet and dote over, as they have both noticed that you will shower Palta with affection at every possibility. To them, the only solution is more cats.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Here. I will put an end to this matter in a way that will make you comfortable with the situation and see the truth of the matter.” Alban inhaled, and he honked, an explosive sound that rattled my brain in my skull and triggered a headache. “Enough, both of you. Before you become too enthusiastic in your discussion, it is wise to consider that young Camellia will need to undergo an apprenticeship with other species. Palta is unsuitable for such a venture into space. It was already planned as part of her experimental voyage. We do need to resolve this planetary exploration issue promptly, as we had already made arrangements for her to have such an opportunity. Palta and her kin would not fare well on that leg of her journey, and she has missed much of what the universe has to offer on her backwater world.”

Waldren’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest but said nothing.

Herserael relaxed, and something about the way his feathers ruffled on his crest gave me the feeling he held something back, although I couldn’t guess what. “This is quite true. The Deltans and Cremorans have offered a venture through our connections with the Crimson Crests. If we go by the original schedule, we will have her for the duration of her recovery, after which she’ll be introduced to the allied species of the Cremorans and apprentice in the field of her choice. She’ll return to her home world for a visit, after which we will be in rotation to host her again should we desire.”

Waldren’s eyes narrowed further. “Palta is perfectly capable of handling Cremorans. And Deltans? Pushovers. Friendly pushovers, but pushovers all the same.”

The Veloc bobbed his head, and I wondered what he meant to express. “They are influential pushovers who can help Camellia establish herself with other homo sapiens . Palta will have plenty of company. You need not worry yourself about that. It will take you time to find her an Andean companion. The idea of partnering Palta with another female is a good one, and if you acquire her companion as a kitten, Palta will not have an issue—or you could keep one of Palta’s daughters for yourself.”

“That won’t diversify the lines,” Waldren muttered.

“Then trade one of Palta’s kittens for a companion for her. Another option, one that won’t damage your ability to purchase an upgraded ship much.”

Alban bounded into the quarantine bay, careful not to bump into any of the storage boxes or equipment set up throughout the room. “Her six month venture would be plenty of time to look into the issue of kittens.”

“Perhaps Camellia would enjoy accompanying us when we search for a companion for Palta,” Waldren stated. “And it would give her time to decide for herself if she would like a pet of her own. The Deltans would make arrangements. They have a ship with foxes already.”

Puzzled, I regarded the man with my head tilted to the side. “Foxes? You mean the Earth canines?”

Waldren nodded. “Yes. The Deltans are typically a mixed homo sapiens subspecies, but a pure homo sapiens has entered their lines. She’s from the straggler generational ship, and she was hybridized before birth to pick up traits of the vulpes vulpes. Her parents gifted her with a fox, and she received a second fox later. They’re being overrun with foxes, although most of theirs are being spayed or neutered unless entering a breeding program and living out their lives as beloved pets. The vulpes vulpes are not endangered, and they inhabit numerous planets, ours included.” Sucking in a breath, his eyes widened, and he turned his attention to Alban. “Palta loves foxes. I could get her a fox, and Camellia could get a female Andean and a fox as well. If we both get female foxes, we can work on the vulpes vulpes diversification project as well.”

The Veloc glared at Waldren, and as one, they began to hiss.

“What about that suggestion is making them do that ?” I blurted.

A rather playful grin made an appearance on the man’s face. “They’re cat people, and foxes are cat software on dog hardware, and they hate it. They love fox behavior, but they look at a fox and think about dogs, and they are cat people. If it’s an animal, I love it.”

“That’s the appropriate attitude to have. I’ve seen pictures of foxes, but I’ve never seen one in person. We don’t have them at our school, but I think we have some in one of the zoos.”

“They can be a bit rambunctious, which makes space travel hard for them. The Crimson Crest foxes are modified for higher intelligence, and they can still be a bit problematic.” Waldren laughed, and he went back to his work, sorting through the storage boxes to preemptively set up quarantine sectors for everybody should the venture off the ship not go to plan. “The Deltan foxes are highly trainable, useful for salvage ventures, and excellent companions. However much I love Palta, she’s hard to train, and it took me a year and a half to get to the point I could bring her into space safely. It takes a month to do the preliminary training of the Deltan vulpes vulpes. I could take another Andean into space now, but only because I can install the special cages of cat containment for sketchy situations. I had to start Palta with the cage for situations, but now she’ll go into her nest when ordered, as she knows it’s either go to her nest or get tossed into the cage. I set up cages in most major sections of the ship in case of emergency. It only takes a few seconds to toss her in, close it up, and start up the cage’s life support system. Her nest is more comfortable, and she knows it—but the cage will keep her alive during an emergency, too.”

I turned to Alban, who joined Waldren in sorting through boxes and assembling the temporary quarters we’d need in case of quarantine. “Perhaps Waldren and Palta could come with me during the apprenticeship period?”

After a moment of hesitation, the Veloc replied, “He would become quite bored, likely. He loves to fly. He is not all that keen on learning about plants and the many ways they might kill him. He might be game to take you to places where the plants might try to kill you, however.”

The glare Waldren shot at the Veloc implied the large predator would come to a brutal end sooner than later. “I could take up an apprenticeship to set up a botany lab in the new ship. If I can afford something larger, a botany lab isn’t out of the question.”

Alban hooted, and he winked at me. “That’s a sneaky way of saying he wouldn’t mind having a garden in his next ship. But he is not at all capable of caring for plants at this point in time. Watch him the first time he gets dirt under his nails. The beast emerges. He will tear his nails off making sure his fingertips are clean.”

“Wear gloves,” I suggested.

Waldren scowled at me. “I don’t like feeling dirty.”

With a loud snort, Alban returned to work, shaking from the effort to keep from making some other sound, likely explosive hoots of laughter. As I was far from innocent, I joined the feathered murder machine, snickered, and resumed my task, which involved moving boxes to the appropriate place, guided by anyone who happened to know what I was supposed to be doing.

“Wrong kind of dirty, you perverts!”

While I managed to keep my grasp on my dignity, Alban lost the war, slid to the ground, and writhed from his general mirth. Fortunately, the Veloc’s claws were capped, so when he kicked several of the boxes, all I needed to do was keep the equipment from tumbling to the floor.

Muttering curses, Waldren fled the scene, and I waited until he disappeared down the hallway to burst into laughter.