Our Pet

by S M Matthews

  “Are you alright Pate?” Abner asks me.

  “Fine.” I snap loudly at him “Fine. Is she talking yet?”

  “We’re going to start testing it today, it should be rudimentary at first but it will pick up pretty quickly I hope.”

  “Good, fit her with a translator as soon as you can,”

  Tark actually pipes up at that “I’ll have to do more scans first, make sure her biology’s similar enough that it will work. And that it won’t hurt her.”

  “Good, whatever, just do it. She needs to be able to speak our language. When we get to the station, we are dropping her off too.”

  They both sit in horrified silence for a moment, she’s obliviously eating her breakfast.

  “But we can’t do -”

  “She doesn’t know -”

  They both protest at once.

  “ENOUGH!” I stand and roar it at them. Maisy whimpers and recoils, the stink of fear almost instantly filling the space. This hurts me more than it does you, I think wryly.

  “She is not our problem, and there may be someone with more resources than us who knows what she is and where she came from. You don’t know if they can take her home, you don’t even know what she’s left behind. She may have ten mates and a hundred cubs for all you know. Did either of you bother to think of that?”

  That stung them both, I can see it. The fact that they are hurt by the thought speaks volumes.

  I leave, and head back to my room. I don’t enjoy hurting my brothers, but this has to stop now.

  TARK

  “Come on Abner, let’s get her talking.”

  “And what’s your first question going to be?” His tone of voice is snide “Maisy, do you, in fact, have ten mates and a hundred cubs stranded on the most glorious paradise planet anyone’s ever seen?”

  “Fine, if you don’t want to help just stay out of it.” I motion to Maisy to follow, and she does, we head along the hall to the deck, and I know Abner’s trailing along behind us. He can’t help his curiosity.

  Maisy makes herself comfortable in one of the chairs, thinking we are carrying on where we left off, but I bring the program up and set it to active mode.

  “Right, let’s see if this is working at all” There’s a brief delay after I’ve finished speaking, and then the computer declares something I don’t understand. But Maisy clearly does, and her mouth drops open.

  She starts speaking, then the computer says “By the void, you can talk at me?”

  I know she didn’t say ‘by the void’ the computer’s just translating into the nearest acceptable phrase. The syntax is still a bit off, but that will normalise with use. “Yes, Maisy, hopefully it’ll get clearer with time.”

  The computers already starting to pick up, and this time started translating before I’d finished speaking.

  Then Maisy says something that the computer translates as “Holes mating excrement”

  Abner and I stare at each other, pretty lost.

  “Maybe it’s not working properly?” Abner asks me.

  MAISY

  Abner’s pretty much just said that he doesn’t think it’s right. But it’s definitely right. Holy fucking shit. We can talk to each other.

  “Oh, it’s working alright. Listen, I got abducted by a floppy green thing and kept in a cage, and then knocked out. Well I was knocked out before that too. Oh crikey, have you heard about anyone else? There was loads of us in that cage. All stolen. And then I woke up here. Thank you for everything by the way, the clothes and the food and taking the collar off. Why am I even here? Like, how did you get me?”

  I wait for the computers translation to stop. Tark replies, it’s a jumbled, stilted answer that comes through the computer, but the gist of it is that he bought me. He thought I was the interstellar equivalent of a puppy, and he has the good grace to look a bit embarrassed about that.

  “Why me? And where are the others?”

  “You had the brightest colours. I have no knowledge of any others; they could have been sold to others. I have no knowledge of Maisy’s first starting.” The language was odd...but I got it, he doesn’t know and he doesn’t know. And if he doesn’t know where I’m from, that means they can’t take me back there.

  That knocks the wind out of my sails all over again. But, look on the bright side, they can’t be super evil invading aliens if they don’t even know where to go. So that’s one question answered. “I can’t go home?”

  “Sorry Maisy. We don’t know home location.” It seems like now we are talking, their computer is working out my language at the rate of knots. It gets smoother and more ‘right’ with every exchange.

  “Right. So I’m alone. What are you going to do with me?”

  Abner and Tark exchange a glance, and it is a weighty one. I do not like that all. Neither of them answers me though.

  “Guys, come on. What’s happening?”

  Tark finally answers, “We are heading to a research station to trade for supplies, we are going to drop you off there.”

  Right. Well, this is utter shit. They didn’t know I was sentient, and although that’ll have to be officially proved, it will give me rights under their laws. Basically they don’t want to take responsibility for me. Fine, great, understandable, I suppose. Tark desperately tried to sweeten it up. There might be someone who's heard of your species, there might be someone who knows where your home is, there might be someone who can get you there. Might might might. And from the look on both their faces I don’t think either of them thought it was remotely likely. They both also looked guilty as hell.

  As we talk, the computer keeps getting better and better at what it’s translating, even if the news is utter shit.

  Apparently the station belongs to their species, so at least they could reassure me that I'd be respected. And hopefully I’d have an implant by then, and they'd upload my language to the station, so everyone there can download my language to their implants and speak to me. I wouldn't be cut off like I have been here.

  Once again, there is sweet fuck all I can do about any of this.

  When I’d asked how long it would be until we got there, they had shared that look again. “Four days”.

  ABNER

  Eve meal was difficult. Tark was desperately trying to make conversation. Maisy had drawn into herself and was speaking the bare minimum. After our first contact this morning, she’s locked herself away. We’d both gone to her room a couple of times, but she’d only spoke when she’d had too, and then dismissed us with a “I’m tired”. She looked sullen and was only playing with her food. I think she’d developed a sense of security here; she’d been through something traumatic that she had no control over. And now it’s happening again.

  I desperately do not want her to leave, and I know Tark feels the same. Neither of us had seen Pate since breakfast. Maybe we could speak to him. Brother packs are always equals. A team. Pate has always been our unofficial leader, he’s the oldest, the biggest, the meanest. We always just went along with it because...well, I guess we did just agree with him naturally. This is the first time I've wanted to fight him over anything.

  And on top of all that, the smell was even worse today. Since I’d held Maisy in my lap, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My cocks were pinched painfully. That wonderful smell that I still couldn’t place was filling which ever space she happened to be in, but now it had a different overtone. It was calling to me. I wanted to breed her, I realised, not just mate her. That's what she smelt like. If her species comes into some sort of heat, I’m pretty sure I’m done for.

  “Tark, can you come and check something with me? On deck?”

  He knows something's up and agrees immediately, we leave Maisy looking forlorn and cutting her meal into ever smaller pieces.

  Tark follows me up on deck, and I press the panel so the door slides shut.

  “Can you smell her?”

  Tark instantly looks relieved, “Thank the void I thought I was the only one, it’s been driving m
e mad, she’s all I think about. The smell keeps getting worse and I keep thinking...things I probably shouldn’t be.”

  I laugh, but it’s humourless. “We need to talk to Pate. Convince him-.”

  I cut him off.

  “We should talk to Maisy first, don’t you think? See what she wants? She’s probably had enough of her choices being taken away at this point.”

  “The momentary hope that had flashed across Tark disappears again, “Yeah,” He agrees. “I guess you’re right. She needs to understand what she’s saying though, if she stays. I don’t think I can stand thi-did you hear that?”

  I nod, there was a thud, and a whimper. I hit the panel to make the door slide back open, and it takes a small eternity for my brain to make sense of what I’m seeing. Tark and I just stand dumbly in the doorway, frozen.

  Pate has Maisy pinned to the wall in the hallway, she's straddling his thigh and has practically been lifted off the ground. Pate has a handful of her hair, and has her head pulled back to expose her throat, which he is giving long slow licks. Maisy’s hips thrust along his thigh, and she makes a needy, mewling sound. Her small hands are gripping the sides of his jacket for dear life. The smell of terror is almost choking, but the chaser of her arousal that's riding the back of it is unmistakeable. And it draws us both forward. Pate notices us as we start to move forward and turns to hiss at us, dropping Maisy back to her feet. He turns and disappears back into his room. Maisy is leaning against the wall as if she’s unsteady, and looks dazed. But the smell of fear has been completely drowned out by the smell of her need.

  “Looks like Pate might have broached the subject for us,” I say wryly to Tark.

  MAISY

  I have no idea what just happened. Well, actually, I know exactly what just happened. I’m pretty certain Pate does not want to eat me. Well, I mean he might want to eat me. But not in the food sense of the word. What just happened was absolutely terrifying, Pate came out of nowhere, but while my mind was still catching up, my body was full steam ahead. And I liked it.

  Abner and Tark are having quite an intense sounding conversation, but between what’s just happened replaying again and again in my mind, them talking in their language, and then the computer overlay, trying to translate both of them into the same voice, makes it next to impossible for me to follow the conversation or figure out who is saying which bit. I give up trying to follow it, but what I do want to do is go and see Pate. My self-preservation is screaming at me that that’s a bad idea for a lot of reasons...but my raging libido is telling me it’s a good idea. A really good idea. My logical brain takes this moment to point out that I still don’t really know anything about these guys. The really might eat what they fuck. They might be packing tentacles. They might have interstellar crabs. Absolutely anything could be possible and I should be taking all of that into consideration. I need some facts. This is far too big of an issue. And realistically, if I was going to choose one of them, it would be between Tark and Abner.

  Holy fuck, I give myself a mental kick, you are not choosing an alien boyfriend, this is stupid. You don’t know these people, not really, nor do you understand their intentions.

  I look at them talking, really look at them. Do I find them attractive? In a really alien way, yes. They are pretty to look at, they are big, strong, and very very male. They've been nothing but kind and caring to me. Do I want to be abandoned on a space station? No, not really. If I can never make it home, is this life one I would choose? I surprise myself. Yes. It probably is. But is that because I have nothing else to compare it to? Should I actually hold out for this space station? I am devolving into an overwhelming mental mess of questions I just can’t answer. And at the bottom of all that, and a lot of assumptions, is why in the Hell would Pate want me?

  “Guys, can you stop and tell me what’s going on?”

  They do stop, and they both sit. Then Abner gets straight up again and gets drinks.

  Tark starts with a question, “Maisy, what do you think a pack looks like?”

  “A pack? Like dogs? Or wolves or something?” I am really confused, this not what I was expecting.

  “All right, I’ll try a different way, what does your pack look like?”

  Ohhhh...the penny drops, the computer can’t have worked everything out just yet. “You mean family. And I guess my family isn’t a good example, so I’ll say you usually have partners, this is usually a man and a woman, but sometimes two women and sometimes two men. They might have kids or they might not, either partner could have siblings. Both parents, no parents. They might be adopted, they might have adopted kids themselves, sometimes you have big extended families all living together. To be honest the possibilities are pretty endless...and I’m rambling. Why? Pate already has a family you mean?” I kick myself again for letting that one slip out. I shouldn’t care if Pate has a family of his own.

  Abner lets out a sigh “Yeah, he does. Us. We’re all brothers.”

  “Oh.” Okay, that hadn’t even occurred to me that they would or wouldn’t be related, literally hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  “In your families at home, do you have multiple siblings with one other partner?”

  I have to try and disguise what I’m thinking by having a drink. If that does happen back home, then people keep it quiet…I mean I did go to college with one girl who left her man for his big brother. But I’m pretty sure she wasn’t seeing them both at the same time. But I’m thinking that what Tark and Abner are implying is a bit more...involved.

  Right. Not for the first time I am trying to hold it together.

  “So, what do your families look like?” Seems to be the only thing I can think to reply.

  Abner starts to speak, but Tark cuts him off. “Come with me,” he says. And I do. I follow him to the bridge and we sit in the same places that we sat for the Name Game. Abner goes and sits in one of the pilot’s seats, but spins it to look back at us. Tark shows me his album of family photographs. Their mother is the first female of their species that I see, and she is beautiful in a foreign goddess sort of way. Big tiger eyes look out of snowy white fur. Where the males have dark mottling, and are lighter around the face and chest, she is a bright white all over. Where the males have manes like I would think of on a lion, all hers is much longer, and pulled back into a braid that falls over her shoulder. It’s a staged family photo. There’s another bright white youngster sat on the floor at her feet, and the female is holding a very dark bundle of fluff. I know straight away without being told that that is Pate. There are three, very identical males standing in a half circle around the chair their mother is sat in. We go through, more relaxed family photographs, there are no more staged ones like that first one. Another, very lightly mottled baby appears, and I know it’s Abner. And then Tark starts appearing in the photos too. From a young age it’s easy to tell which is which. The big males, when they are in the photographs, don’t seem to have any differences at all to tell them apart. “Do you always come in threes?” I ask Tark.

  “Almost always yes. Of course there is the occasional accident. But it is rare now for someone to die of illness or injury.”

  “And you always...share one female?”

  “Yes.”

  And then the sixty-four-million-dollar question. “What has this got to do with me?”

  Pate appears in the doorway “Everything” he grinds out. He does not sound happy about it.

  Abner sits with me and teaches me how to start entering my written language into the computer. After dropping that bombshell Pate simply left again, and Tark just seemed so lost. Tark suggested that it wouldn't take long for the computer to learn my written language, now it had a good chunk of the verbal language, and that would mean I’d be free to read everything in their database. Their history, their culture...their biology. I was finding Abner to be the easiest to speak to. Pate was just, well...Pate. And Tark seemed too playful to be handling this very well. Abner was standing up like a champ though. He was realistic, bu
t kind. He understood that we were two different species, but...they wanted me. If I wanted them back. He understands it’s a big cultural change but, he also didn’t want me to feel pressured or stuck with them if I didn’t want to be. He thinks it should be my choice if I get off at the station or not. I know how to activate the screen in my room if I want to change location to read, and then he leaves me to it. Which is nice of him to give me some space, and time...but it quickly becomes lonely. I’ve already gotten used to one of them always just being there.

  He wasn’t wrong, it isn’t long before me handwriting on the screen with my finger produces a neat alphabet on the screen. It lets me move these into the layout I want at the bottom, I go for the traditional QWERTY layout since it’s familiar to me. Then the computer speaks some words, and I spell them on the screen. It takes maybe ten minutes before it’s telling me that I can have access to the library.

  I start small and go for another album of pictures, this one of their world. It feels like I’ve found their equivalent of National Geographic. Every picture is stunning, and so different to Earth. Animals, different landscapes, people. Places where the sand is a rich red and the leaves are a deep purple blue. Their oceans are a crisp emerald green and their fashions seem as varied as humanities. There is very occasionally a picture of one of their females decorated spectacularly in what looks like bright chalks or powders rubbed into their fur. ‘Traditionally decorated for a Mate Run’ the caption reads. When there's pictures of males, there's always three. And they are always so similar as to be impossible to tell apart. That sets me thinking, and looking for something very specific. Before I know it my eyes are drooping and I’ve skimmed through dozens of chapters in dozens of books. The ‘brother packs’ should always be very similar, because they are genetically very similar. My three are odd to say the least.