Caveat Fuzzy

by Wolfgang Diehr

  XI

  As the ship flew through hyperspace, Thor Folkvar watched the gray nothingness of space-minus through a specially polarized portal. Thor forced himself to drag his attention away from the display. He was starting to feel like the abyss was staring back. He decided to check in with the bridge.

  Like most private hyperspace yachts, this one was roughly half the diameter of the commercial models. Still, it was large enough for most practical purposes. The curvature of the floor, while noticeable, wasn’t difficult to walk on. Down in crew quarters and around the Dillingham hyperdrive engine, the curvature was not unlike walking on a large dome, though the artificial gravity was evenly distributed so there was no sense of climbing or descending. One simply felt like they were at the apex of the dome with every step.

  Thor stepped from the elevator and nearly ran into a horror the equal of anything in an H. P. Lovecraft novel. It stood erect on stumpy legs and broad, six-toed feet. There were four arms, one pair from true shoulders and the other connected to a pseudo-pelvis midway down the torso. The skin was slate-gray and rubbery looking. The narrow head bore an unpleasant saurian resemblance with small, double-lidded red eyes, slit-like nostrils, and a wide mouth filled with opalescent teeth. It was also completely naked though it bore a stencil-painted emblem of the House of Honirdite on its chest and back.

  “Gaah!” Thor backed up a step and put a hand to his chest. “Kronkeenk, I wish to Nifflheim you wouldn’t do that. I could have a heart attack or something, you geek.”

  “Znidd suddabit, you sovt-szhelled ape. Yoo no prize, eit’er,” countered the Ulleran. The two traded barbs for a moment, then pleasantries in the manner of old friends. “Vhere yoo go in sudge hurree?”

  “The bridge. I’m bored and just want to do something, so I decided to bother the captain to pass the time. You?”

  “Preparing vor sleep-cycle. Vas long szhivt.” Kronkeenk made a gesture of polite dismissal and proceeded down the passageway.

  “Sleep well, Kronkeenk.” Thor turned and on his way to the bridge.

  The bridge appeared to be relaxed. Personnel sat at consoles that monitored the ship’s systems and controlled the hyperdrive. Two Thoran security guards sat in seats behind the captain, Terran and Freyan technicians pressed buttons and watched screens and a Sheshan steward brought a drink to the captain. Only the captain seemed agitated, which was the normal state of affairs for the Freyan native. Like the yacht’s owner, the captain had been schooled on Mars. He was competent and versatile, yet young enough to still believe he had something to prove.

  “Captain Zeudin, how are things going?”

  “Mr. Folkvar!” The captain had been so focused on the screens and readouts that he hadn’t heard Thor enter. “We will arrive ahead of schedule, sir.”

  “Oh? Found a shortcut through hyperspace, Captain?”

  “No, sir. I am afraid the current laws of hyperspace physics remain unaltered. Maybe someday we’ll break the sixty-hour per light-year barrier, but not on this trip. No, we simply left ahead of schedule and have had no difficulties that might have slowed us in our travels.”

  “Ah, do your travel estimates always include estimated difficulties, captain?”

  “They do. As such, I have never failed to arrive on or ahead of schedule.” Capt. Zeudin stood up and moved about the bridge, more to stretch his legs than to micromanage the crew. “How do our passengers fare, sir?”

  “A little bored, for the most part. This is the first space voyage for some of them, after all. The menagerie seems to be managing well enough, if a bit restless.”

  The captain nodded. “Animals are always restless in hyperspace, and even with the time dilation effect, a journey from Freya to Gimli, then to Zarathustra is a fair stretch. Especially for this bloody lot.”

  “I have them on maximum sedatives, captain. Especially the larger ones.” Thor chuckled. “They do grow them big on Freya.”

  The captain looked over Thor with an appraising eye. “Well, you have been there, so you should know. You’re pretty big, too, you know.”

  Thor stood over two meters tall and sported impressive muscle mass, a common enough trait on the heavy gravity planet of his birth. Unlike most other Magni colonists, Thor actively worked at building up his body. For a while he had competed in the body-builder circuit until he realized he would never place above third in any show. Unlike the competitors from lower gravity planets, Thor couldn’t develop the deep cut and muscle separation that the judges favored. His greater muscle density and thickness actually worked against him. Moreover, strongman contests operated on a planet-to-planet basis, blocking him from competing off Magni. Thor loved to travel too much to compete under that restriction.

  Eventually, he met John Morgan and accepted a job as a bodyguard, little though the Freyan seemed to need one. Morgan traveled from world to world searching for the father who abandoned him, investing money in the local companies and playing detective. Thor, almost twice Morgan’s age and already well-traveled, was able to advise the Freyan on local customs and taboos. When Morgan would get depressed over yet another failure to locate his father, the two would get roaring drunk and occasionally start a bar brawl, then stand back-to-back taking on all comers. Until that mess with the Chartered Magni Cooperative was discovered.

  “You’re no runt, either, Captain. When do we make planet fall?”

  “If we don’t bounce off the gravity well by cutting it too close, twenty-eight hours and change.”

  “And if we bounce?”

  Captain Zeudin shrugged. “Add a couple of hours or so. Can’t predict something like that.”

  “I’d better get the passengers ready, then.” Thor hustled out of the bridge and took the lift one level down. Second level, normally used for storage, was packed wall-to-wall with cryogenic freezers on one side, and what could only be classed as a zoo on the other. The animals it contained were unlike anything currently living on Terra.

  Thor walked over to a man who was pouring feed into a trough. Once full, a button was pressed and the trough smoothly entered a cage and a grate closed behind it. The animal within the cage appeared to be large, dangerous and out of sorts. Thor was very glad for the heavy barrier between himself and the Freyan vig’nol. The man attending to the menagerie turned and saw the visitor.

  “Where is everybody?” the Magnian inquired.

  “Sleeping. Old habits are hard to break, and this was always our allotted sleeping period.” The caretaker spoke with a soft German accent not unlike that of one schooled in the Bavarian dialect of Southern Germany. The man’s voice was a deep bass that would be the envy of any Terran singer; it sounded as though it reverberated from the deepest recesses of his barrel chest. “I worked in a different area, so my sleeping cycle is out of phase with the others. Are we almost there?”

  “The captain says another twenty-eight hours, give or take.”

  The man nodded his large head, something a casual observer might have thought impossible given the thickness of his neck. “A new world. One with no masters. Will they accept us despite our differences?”

  “This is a world where humans and the native inhabitants live together in peace. I think this is your people’s best chance for a home. And John Morgan plans on purchasing a tract of land where you will be free of interference. Hopefully, he was able to swing the deal.”

  “And if he couldn’t…?”

  The Magnian shrugged, “Well, either you can try to live and work with the local population or we’ll just start looking someplace else. Don’t give up hope, Johann.”

  “Hope is all my people and I have, Herr Thor. We cannot afford to lose it.”

  * * * * * * * * *

  Jack awoke at his usual 0700 without the need for an alarm clock. He had a strange sense that something was off. He couldn’t think of anything that would cause such a feeling until he heard soft breathing next to him on the bed. That was not unusual in the least; the Fuzzies often snuck into bed with him while he sle
pt. He had gotten so used to it that he didn’t even wake up anymore when it happened.

  Then came the snore. It was a well-documented fact that Fuzzies did not snore in the wild since it could attract dangerous predators. Jack sat up in the bed and turned to look at the source of the sound. It was a very attractive and very nude young woman.

  Jack jerked backward with such force that he lost his balance and fell off the bed. Cursing softly, though blasphemously, he crawled up to the side of the bed to re-examine his new bunkmate. The covers had come away from the sleeping woman and hit the floor with Jack leaving her completely exposed, though undisturbed in her slumber.

  It was Betty Kanazawa. Jack experienced a mixed sense of relief, since for a moment, he was afraid it might have been Akira, which would certainly be grounds for another duel with Morgan (once was quite enough, thank you very much). Then, confusion as to how Betty had ended up there.

  Quietly getting to his feet, Jack noticed his usual pajama bottoms were missing. He carefully returned the blanket and sheet to the sleeping woman and dressed as quietly as he could before tiptoeing out of the bedroom. In the kitchen Jack made a pot of tea and took his medications.

  The medications!

  Jack read the labels of each and found that prolonged usage could create a sense of euphoria in some patients if ingested with alcohol, other drugs or highly caffeinated beverages. Like tea. Jack felt like swearing, but couldn’t think of anything vile enough to cover the situation. Searching his memory, Jack recalled that after Akira and Lolita had retired, he had started feeling the side effects of his medication, which wasn’t much different from a few stiff shots of bourbon.

  Did I take advantage of that young woman?

  Jack struggled to recover more details and finally recalled that Betty had challenged him to a few hands of poker. Jack, having spent time on Fenris where poker was the number one pastime, quickly cleaned out the seemingly less experienced Betty. That was when she started anteing articles of clothing, which she also quickly lost. After that, try as he might, the details were too hazy to remember.

  Jack was no prude. Ghu knew, he had done a lot of things in his youth far more questionable than a few rounds of strip poker, though he had never forced himself on any woman. He hoped that still held true.

  Jack jumped a bit as the teapot whistled. It was an old-style stove top model he had picked up on Freya. He started to pour himself a cup, then remembered the medical interaction. He rooted around in the cupboard for a caffeine free brand and found a Darjeeling tea of Morgan’s that would do. Jack wasn’t partial to Darjeeling and grimaced as he started a new pot. He set the tea to boil, again, and then sat down to ponder his situation further.

  A soft hand caressed his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Jack turned to find a smiling Betty wearing one of his housecoats.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but you won all of my clothes last night,” Betty said with a little laugh.

  “Ah…about that…”

  “What?”

  “Um…as it turns out none of those things will fit me and they clash with my gun belt, so by all means feel free to put them back on.” When in doubt, act casual.

  Betty laughed and punched Jack lightly in the shoulder. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Oh, I guess I won’t need this…” She pulled off the housecoat and draped it over his head before walking back into the bedroom to recover her wardrobe. Her own nudity didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. It certainly bothered Jack, though not in any bad way.

  Well, I couldn’t have done anything objectionable last night or Betty would be a lot less easygoing this morning. It wasn’t until the teapot whistled that Jack remembered Betty had brought an overnight bag with her.

  * * * * * * * * *

  The zarabuck paused from his grazing and raised his head. It had caught an unfamiliar scent in the breeze and looked about for its source. The animal could neither see nor hear anything to be concerned about. The high grass of the veldt obscured much of its view. Still, any animal large enough to be a threat would be visible. Or should have been. Several golden animals with similarly furred bipeds on their backs came out of the brush and raced towards the buck. The zarabuck had never seen anything like it before. This was understandable since dogs were somewhat new to Beta Continent, and dogs used as mounts for the indigenous natives even more so.

  Little Fuzzy notched an arrow into his bow and let fly with impressive accuracy, especially considering how he made the shot from a charging Curtys, the dog breed favored as a mount for the Fuzzies. The arrow caught the zarabuck in the rear haunch. The animal jumped and ran, but its speed was greatly reduced by the injury, allowing the slower dog riders to overtake him. Several more arrows struck the buck and brought him down.

  Little Fuzzy noticed that Baby Fuzzy’s arrow struck the buck in the neck and praised the young hunter for his expertise with the bow, which Baby Fuzzy accepted with pride.

  The Fuzzies quickly dismounted and started stripping the buck of its hide, then cut out large portions of meat. The meat was piled onto the hide and each Fuzzy took a small portion and fed it to his mount. They were careful not to feed the dogs too much. A full dog was a slow dog and prone to nausea when running long distances.

  After each dog was given his treat, the Fuzzies wrapped the remaining meat in plastic bags and stuffed them in their backpacks. While Fuzzies were perfectly content to eat the meat raw, they preferred to cook it when they returned home. Cooking improved the flavor and the meat would stay good for a longer time. They also intended to share with the others back at the res.

  Before remounting some of the Fuzzies noticed that their dogs had heeded the call of nature. They quickly dug holes and buried the ordure just as they would their own waste. This eliminated the bad smells that might scare away future prey. Back at the res the waste would be dumped into a tank that used the methane it produced for power. This kept the grounds clean and provided clean energy for some of the Fuzzy-operated equipment.

  As the Fuzzies were preparing to remount, the dogs started growling and looking towards the west. The Fuzzies followed the dogs’ line of sight and spotted the damnthing bull bearing down on them. The smell of fresh blood must have attracted it from downwind.

  Rather than mount up and make a run for it, as instincts developed over millennia of surviving in a hostile environment would have them do, Little Fuzzy called the group together and had them form a wide arc. As the damnthing approached, the Fuzzies fired arrows at it. Most of the first volley of the missiles buried themselves in the beast’s massive head to little effect, save for the one that pierced its left eye. The rest struck the forepart of the torso and legs.

  Undaunted, at first, by the numerous arrows, the damnthing continued forward, then stumbled and fell. One of its monstrous hooves had fallen into a small hole and threw off its balance. The Fuzzies quickly seized the advantage and circled the beast, firing arrow after arrow into its leathery hide. The damnthing managed to get back on its feet and start another charge until the Fuzzy called Maid Marian chanced a close-in shot on the right eye that pierced the orb and penetrated into brain.

  A more reasonable animal would have accepted the fact that an arrow in the brain would mean it was time to lie down and stay there. A damnthing, by definition, was far from a reasonable animal. Rather than quietly expire, it lunged blindly forward, narrowly missing Maid Marian with its brow horn, and thrashed about wildly. Little Fuzzy ordered everybody to back away, although too late to keep one Fuzzy, called Bird Chaser as he had not yet received a new name from the Big Ones, from being struck by a hoof of the thrashing and kicking monster.

  Bird Chaser was knocked away from his dog mount with a broken arm. The dog, well trained, gently grabbed the Fuzzy by his backpack with its powerful jaws and dragged him away from further danger.

  The damnthing spent several long minutes of thrashing and kicking before it finally realized that it was dead. Then it simply crashed to the ground and laid motio
nless. Two Fuzzies went to Bird Chaser’s aid and put a splint on his arm while two others found a couple of long sticks. Once the Fuzzies were satisfied that the damnthing wasn’t playing possum they quickly stripped off the hide and as much meat as they could carry or drag behind them in the hide without over-taxing the dogs. Part of the hide was cut away and combined with the two branches to make a travois for the injured Bird Catcher. The travois was attached to his dog’s saddle so he could drag it behind while another Fuzzy took the reins. This was to keep the injury from being jarred as they traveled.

  Little Fuzzy and Baby Fuzzy assisted Maid Marian in hacking out the brow horn of the damnthing. Fuzzies did not typically take trophies of their kills in the wild, but association with Big Ones had started the practices among the domestic Fuzzies and a damnthing horn would impress everybody, human and Fuzzy alike.

  Little Fuzzy considered doing something with the damnthing hide. The idea of using the hide for a blanket or to keep the rain off would be a good thing. In the Fuzzy villages—where Fuzzies had their own homes instead of living with Big Ones’—animal hides were used to cover the floor or block window openings like curtains. Living with Pappy Jack, there was no place to put up his own hides or lay them on the floor; Pappy Jack already had such things.

  A smile grew on Little Fuzzy’s face as he got an idea.

  XII

  Akira and Lolita were up and dressed in time for breakfast, which Betty was helping Jack prepare. Instead of Jack’s usual coffee and toast, the couple fried up some eggs, Terran-introduced potatoes, river swine sausage and tea. The four ate, then Lolita went out to find some Fuzzies to play with before starting work gofering. Betty pushed Jack and Akira out of the kitchen while she cleared away the dishes and loaded the washer. Jack decided to stretch his legs a bit without the hover-chair and Akira followed him outside.

  “Really, Jack,” Akira said, “do you think your shenanigans last night constitute proper behavior with a young impressionable girl in the house?”