Roxanne’s missive was delightful, as usual:
Hello Cy,
Before I get your messages, I believe that there can’t be anything that could top the experiences you have already told me about. Then you bowl me over with new ones. First, I think it is just fantastic that you were able to resolve the Hunter epidemic. Those big cats sound like such a wonderful species. The galaxy would have been much poorer without them. The attempted genocide is beyond appalling. It makes me sick just to think about it. I understand how cenoxen issue was just the opposite. The thought of another nearly sentient species used as food animals is even more dreadful. I suppose I can understand the stance of the Cennesarians to deny your claim. They don’t have any proof other than your empathic ability, which you have no way to document, so they cannot see the reality themselves. And such an admission could devastate their economy. My point is that you did everything you could and you should not beat yourself up over what you can’t control. You made a huge difference on that planet. Take away the good and don’t dwell on the bad. I wish I were there to support you.
How many nights had the recurring nightmare about the cenoxen destroyed my sleep? I imagined Roxanne in bed with me, holding me when I awoke sweating and trembling. Would her support banish that failure? No, nothing could do that, but her arms and her care would go a long way toward lessening the pain. I pulled myself back to her face and her words:
Then, you move on to Ulm and prevent an even bigger genocide of a totally unique species: A sentient jungle. I truly hope that success has lifted your spirits. It should. I have to admit, though, that I would much rather meet a Hunter than a Hydra. While the sentience of the jungle was worth saving, your description of the Hydra gave me the shivers. I’m can’t begin to tell you how glad I am you are recovered. The thought of losing you before I ever had you... Oops. That sounds rather presumptuous, doesn’t it. But I’ve already stuck my foot in my mouth, so... It is hard to know how you feel about someone when you have spent so little time together, as we have. But I feel I have come to know you through your messages. Not even so much as what you say, but as what you do, what you have accomplished. That shows me your character, and it is a character that I want to know much better. And closer. Okay, I think I have said enough. I’m going to sign off before I dig this hole any deeper, but please do come home soon. I miss you.
Love, Roxanne
Love? Love? My chest felt like it would expand outward and burst. Tears flooded my eyes and spilled into small rivers that cut courses down my cheeks. I sat for many minutes staring at the blank holoscreen. I was afraid to rerun the message, afraid that I had heard it wrong. That somehow the ending would have changed while I waited. I wiped my eyes and decided I would not watch the message again until I was safe in my own quarters. Why that would make a difference, I didn’t know, but I wanted that privacy. I wanted to scream out my own love for Roxanne across the galaxy. Surely, she could hear me. I shook my head at myself, rose, and left the hyperwave messaging booth smiling.
***
We received a request from the natives of the planet Lupus IV before we left for home. Levi was beyond himself when I told him we would respond.
“No. No, no, no. We will not go anywhere else. You agreed we would return to Dovid’s World after this one. Berger, this is the last straw. Do I need to tell you—?”
“Tell me what? How you’ll torture my parents? How you’ll ruin my life? How you and your cronies will continue to destroy what was once the hope of a new beginning for our people? What else can you do besides destruction? That’s what you live for.”
He stood with his mouth open, speechless, black eyes wide.
“I have another opportunity to help someone. To make a positive difference in the lives of other beings. I won’t turn away. I want to help build better lives, not destroy them.”
Levi moved toward me, fists clenched, murder in his soul. The wave of hate nearly dropped me to my knees, but I readied myself for a fight.
Before that could happen, Fur stepped between us. “I think that you two need to cool it. Violence is not going to solve anything. Reb Levi, perhaps you might retire to your cabin for now? That will help.”
Levi looked up at the stern visage of the big man and retreated. After that, he refused to speak with me until we reached the Lupan solar system, and had little to say to Fur, either. He finally relented, and had been oddly congenial since we landed. That was uncharacteristic, and I wondered what it meant. I still avoided broaching the subject of my parents, afraid of what I might learn.
***
Ghosts, ghouls, demons, and zombies had no basis in reality. Vampires were fictional, though they had roots in the bloodsucking vampire bats of the Terran tropics. Shape-shifters, like werewolves, were another story.
Fireworks of supernatural dread burst behind my optic nerves as I gazed at the welcoming committee on Lupus IV. The Lupans—our name for a species that called themselves “the People”—were the only known race of shape-shifters. They could change from their humanoid form into sleek, four-legged beasts that resembled huge Terran wolves, hence the name. Bright yellow eyes, unclothed fur-covered bodies, and the exuberant fur mane over the heads and necks of their bipedal humanoid forms were enough to give me the willies as I watched them approach the ship on the viewscreen. We had little information on the Lupans. The one exobiologist who spent time on the planet left in a state of post-traumatic shock. His reports were almost useless. Their world was earth-like in atmosphere, climate, and gravity. So many of the worlds we had visited with alien sentient species were similar in that regard, that I had to wonder if those factors were critical in the evolution of DNA-based life.
As Fur and I moved toward the airlock and ramp, Levi said, “I will remain here. No need for all of us to meet these...things.” His hands trembled as he gazed at the natives in the viewscreen. You did not need to be an empath to feel his angst.
Face to face, I took note of three things: First, the Lupans’ manes varied considerably. Colors ranged from almost black to reddish blonde. Styles included fluffy, smooth, wavy, kinky, and even braided, and almost all were neatly coiffed. Second, they were all very obviously male. Third, a somewhat disheveled, mousy-colored Lupan twitched and scraped at his neck, a movement that was reminiscent of a dog scratching with its hind leg. He would then dart a glance at the others, as if to see if they had noticed. The braided Lupan snarled at the scratcher, baring impressive canines. Scratch cowered and retreated several body lengths behind the others.
Curious. What did that mean?
I addressed Braid. “I’m Captain Cy Berger.” I made an introductory wave of my hand. “This is my Co-Captain, Fur Cohen. How can we be of assistance?” The growls that emanated from our pinned-on translation speakers startled me.
The entourage of five Lupans stared at me, then at Fur, and then back at me. I sensed that they were surprised I was the one who spoke. Then Braid growled at me. I flinched, even though I felt no aggression. When Ruthie cut in with a translation through my earbud, I understood that growling was their speech.
“The People welcome you. You must speak with our leader. Follow.” They took off, side by side, toward a small cluster of wooden buildings at the edge of the forest. Scratch slunk along, well in the rear.
Minimalistic did not even begin to describe the audience chamber we entered. The circular wooden building was a single room that contained no fixtures or furnishings. The only light came from a large opening in the roof. A dozen Lupans, again all male, stood around when we entered. At a bark from a large individual with a luxurious dirty-blonde mane, they formed a semicircle and squatted. I noticed that Scratch had not entered the hall with the rest of our welcoming committee.
“Greetings. I am Captain Berger of the Galactic Circle Veterinary Service. You asked for our assistance.”
I got the same reaction from the assembled host. They looked at Fur as if they expected him to speak. Then Barker addressed us. “The People need h
elp.”
A few untranslated growls met this pronouncement.
Barker looked around the room with bared teeth,and the vocalizations subsided.“We learned you have helped others and ask for aid.”
I sensed a mix of curiosity and aggression from the group. My stomach cringed, and I strengthened my shields. “Sir, do you have a name I may address you by?”
“I am Leader.”
“Yes. Leader. Of course. What is the nature of the problem? Is it a disease of some sort?”
A rumble of low-pitched growls shook the room, and my head ached along with my rebelling stomach. Had I said something wrong?
Another bark quieted the circle. I shivered as Leader’s yellow eyes glared into mine. If they were this scary in their humanoid form, I was not sure I wanted to meet them in the lupine mode.
“You will talk to lower caste for this information.”
Lower caste? I sensed that Fur’s perplexity was as intense as mine.
This seemed to be a dismissal, since all the Lupans rose and moved toward the entrance. Fur and I looked at each other. I shrugged and shook my head. I did not have a clue as to how these beings would react to some misstep we could not even imagine.
A Lupan with a fuzzy auburn mane motioned for us to follow him. He led us to another wooden dome. “Enter.”
As we did as we were told, he remained outside.
The small dim antechamber did nothing to soothe my nerves. Fur’s head almost brushed the ceiling, so he scrunched up his shoulders. He looked like a turtle, albeit a very large one. His aura wavered with fear, far more than the circumstances warranted. He wiped sweat from his face, though it was not hot.
I had no time to wonder about that as a figure materialized in the doorway opposite the one we had entered. He stooped as he moved into the light. He had a short, sparse, dull mane.
“Welcome to the People.”
“Hello. I’m Dr. Cy Berger.”
“I’m Furoletto Cohen.”
The Lupan looked at Fur. “You are Leader?”
“No. That’s him.” Fur motioned to me with his thumb.
The Lupan’s pupils dilated as he looked at me. “Interesting.” He motioned for us to follow as he moved toward the interior door.
The next room actually contained benches, a wooden table, and an open cabinet that contained an ancient hyperwave set. A small window illuminated the room. We sat.
I began. “I’m a bit confused—”
“Yes, no doubt.” He bared his teeth—a grin, I hoped. His teeth were smaller than Leader’s, but still impressive. “I am Healer. I may discuss what is not possible for the upper caste.”
I glanced at Fur and back to healer. “We need information if we are to help. Is there an illness?”
“There is a malady, but you may not be allowed to help.”
“Then why did you call us?”
“To help, you must be recognized as worthy. To accept the assistance of one not proven worthy is taboo.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but this makes no sense. We have proven our worth on multiple worlds, with many different races—”
Fur broke in. “I don’t think that’s what Healer is talking about.”
“Then what?”
Fur continued. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Healer, but we must be proven to a standard of your society. Is that right?”
He nodded. “That is correct, large one.” He looked back and forth at Fur and me. “Your standards differ from ours.”
“What? Proven how?” I demanded.
“Only Leader can tell you.”
“What is this? Some kind of shell game? First Leader, then you, now Leader again. If you people need help, I’m happy to oblige. If you don’t want it, we have plenty of other worlds that need our services.”
Fur put his big mitt on my arm to calm me. “Let’s hear Healer out. Okay?”
I took a deep breath and let it out. I nodded.
Healer stood and walked to the crude window, gazed out, then turned back to me. “The People have little contact with offworlders. I am Chosen to speak with strangers, here and far away.” He motioned with his head toward the hyperwave set. “I cannot be contaminated any further by interaction.”
Contaminated? What in God’s name—?
“If you wish to help the People, you must prove yourself. If not, you must leave our world. To stay would invite harm.”
I bolted to my feet. “Is that a threat?”
“I do not make threats. I say what is true. You must decide. Please return to your ship. If you wish to stay, inform the guard.”
“Guard? What guard?”
Fur grabbed my arm again, more forcefully this time, and it hurt. I swung around to him, but the warning in his thoughts cut off any retort. He gave a sharp shake of his head and said, “Let’s get back to the ship. We can talk there.”
Maybe he picked up on something I missed. It would not be the first time.
***
“They’re a pack-oriented society,” Fur said.
He, Levi, and I sat in the commissary over cups of Ulmian coffee. I would be sorry when that ran out. Levi’s face scrunched into his usual scowl as he looked at Fur.
Fur continued. “You could see that in the way they responded as a group. Maybe I’m oversimplifying, but I liken it to Terran wolf packs. An Alpha male lords it over the others. He stays dominant by demonstration of his ferocity and strength.”
“See,” Levi broke in. “They are nothing but beasts. We waste our time here.” He looked at me. “Your parents suffer with each delay.” It was like an automatic response from him, but it seemed to be underlain by more menace this time, as he had cracked the mask of congeniality he had been wearing. Coupled with not hearing from them for too long, this caused my empathic nausea to bring acid to my mouth.
I tensed, but Fur pressed his hand on my shoulder to keep me from reacting violently. “Remember how the one that scratched himself was glared down and then became submissive?” he asked.
“Yeah. And he was excluded from the meeting,” I said.
“The references to ‘lower castes’ by Leader, and the need to ‘prove’ ourselves to be worthy, suggests a hierarchical society.” Fur sat back and sipped his brew.
“Okay. Even if that’s true, we should be careful about drawing direct parallels. It can’t be that simple.”
Levi poked his nose in again. “This is useless speculation. They will not allow us to assist them. This world was not on our schedule. We have finished our travels. I demand we leave.”
I ignored him and turned to Fur. “But if they need help, why this ‘proving’ business? How can we not be good enough to help when we have knowledge and technology? That makes no sense.”
“Think about the Caste System of ancient India,” Fur said. “The Untouchables were the lowest members of society and suffered from religious, economic, and social discrimination. Even their touch defiled high caste Hindus. They couldn’t draw water from Hindu wells. Maybe it’s something like that here.”
“Ha. You even compare them to a religion with false, pagan gods. We will leave them to their heathen ways.” Levi sat back, radiating triumph.
Why anything this bigoted schmuck said surprised me, I don’t know, but this one did. I turned on him. “Now you imply that even humans that follow any other religion than Judaism aren’t worthy of God’s recognition?”
“That is not what I meant.” He glared at me. “I—”
Fur interrupted. “We’re getting off the subject. We need more information. First, what’s this proof we need for them? Second, what’s the malady that has them upset? Then we can make a rational decision whether to help them or not.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic, and it prevented further escalation of the conflict between Levi and me. We would follow up in the morning.
***
The guard at the ship’s airlock was Scratch. His mane was unkempt, his shoulders drooped, and he did not walk with the grace
we had seen in the other Lupans. It seemed that his transgression, whatever it was, had dropped his state so far that we couldn’t further pollute him. He led Fur and me to the Healer’s building.
Healer met us at the door. “You have made a choice to stay? To be proven?”
“Not quite,” I said. “Before we make any decision, we need to know what this trial is. And what the problem is, whether we can help at all.”
“I cannot inform you, but the trial will be both a physical and a mental challenge. You must make your decision now, or leave.”
I looked at Fur. “I guess this is it? Do we stay or go?”
Fur tugged at his beard. “I’ll undertake whatever trial they have in mind. I can handle the physical stuff.”
“Maybe we can split it up,” I said. “You do the physical and I’ll do the mental.”
Fur’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you don’t think I’d be up to the intellectual challenge?”
“You started it.”
Fur grinned. “Let’s go for it. If worse comes to worse, we leave with our tails between our legs and don’t accomplish anything.”
I rolled my eyes, but grinned back in spite of myself.
We followed Scratch to a building we had not entered before. A Lupan at the door did not deign to look at our guide, and Scratch slunk off. If he’d had a tail, it would have been between his legs.
Inside, Leader sat at a table covered with piles of paper, the first sign of written language I’d seen.
He rose and approached us. “You undertake to prove yourself.” It was not a question.
“Well, we thought that Fur...” I waved my arm in Fur’s direction, then cut off at the almost subsonic growl that emanated from Leaders throat.
The Galactic Circle Veterinary Service Page 25