Bonded in Space (Xeno Relations Book 3)

by Trisha McNary

  “Yes, I can,” said Lisand4.

  She wiped a finger on her tablet to scroll through Pweet’s records.

  “To begin with, she accused her space school trainers of harming her. That was shown to be a lie, as all the other students in her class and the trainers reported. Her trainers also noted that at times, she refused to take direct orders.

  “Also, we investigated Pweet’s claims against the trainers. And when one of our administrators told her they were false, she became quite emotional, crying and yelling and demanding that we believe her. Exactly the type of behavior that you don’t want in a human companion.”

  Lisand4 placed her tablet on her desk and looked up at M. Mort with small but stern pale eyes.

  “Why do you even put her on display if she’s not eligible for selection?” asked M. Mort.

  “It’s your species’ rule that every human who wants to must be allowed to come here,” Lisand4 answered.

  Her eyes seemed to narrow as she peered up at him.

  “Oh, that’s right,” said M. Mort. “Let me think about this for a moment.”

  He felt uncomfortably warm, although the building was always kept at a comfortable ambient temperature.

  M. Mort stared down at Lisand4. He tried to think, but his brain felt frozen. He’d never expected that he would have to make a decision like this. This wasn’t covered in any of his classes. What Lisand4 didn’t know was that M. Mort and the others who were here today weren’t adults. Although he was 650 years old, he’d just reached adolescence. And he was used to having adults at least 2000 years old telling him what to do for any important decisions.

  But the adults, who were over ten feet tall, didn’t show themselves to the Earth humans. The Verdante sociologists had determined that the sight of the gigantic adults would cause fear and feelings of inferiority in the humans, possibly leading to violence. Therefore, only the smaller adolescents were sent to make contact with the humans. Of course, no one had ever lied to the humans and said, “I’m an adult,” but the humans naturally assumed that.

  “Your number one priority is to act as if you’re an adult at all times,” M. Mort’s human care instructors had said again and again. “The emotional well being of the Earthling race depends on it.”

  I really want to adopt Pweet, thought M. Mort. But is that what a mature adult would do in this case?

  Lisand4 spoke up. “We’re both responsible adults here,” she said, “so I know you’ll make the right decision.”

  Wow! Will they suspect I’m not an adult if I take Pweet? M. Mort wondered. Maybe not, but they might think something’s up, or it might make them suspicious, and it will be all my fault.

  He sighed telepathically.

  I guess I’ll have to make this decision based on what’s best for everyone instead of selfishly based on what I want. That’s how adults are supposed to act.

  He sighed again telepathically.

  “Very well,” said M. Mort to Lisand4. “I’ll take your recommendation and pick out a different human.”

  “I was confident you would make the right decision,” said Lisand4 with a prim smile. “Five others before you have been interested, and all five made the right choice.”

  “She’s been here six times?” M. Mort asked, lifting the corners of his eyes.

  “Yes. The ones who aren’t selectable keep coming back, but eventually they give up,” said Lisand4.

  M. Mort shifted in his chair as guilt nagged in the back of his mind.

  I don’t think I like acting like an adult, he thought.

  Lisand4 stood up behind her desk and then walked over to open her door. She stood holding it open for M. Mort to exit. He walked out and stood just outside the doorway, looking toward the human viewing containers. He could glimpse some of the humans through the crowds of Verdantes still walking past, but he didn’t see Pweet.

  M. Mort was at a loss for what to do next. Inside, he felt heavy and dark, lethargic. It was a strange feeling he’d never felt in all his 650 years. Life on the Verdante planet had always been cheerful and peaceful if a bit dull at times. This was something new, uncomfortable, and confusing. A feeling of loss.

  I don’t feel like looking for another pet right now, M. Mort thought.

  Keeping to the side of the hallway farthest from the humans, M. Mort walked around to the viewing area’s exit without looking back toward the containers. He crossed a lounge where a few adolescents relaxed on enormous Verdante-sized couches. He stopped at one of the large windows that looked out on the blue skies and grassy fields of Earth. M. Mort stood there for a long time staring out the window at Pweet’s native planet.

  Chapter 2

  Back on Central Planet…

  Trapped inside the foam-filled container, Antaska felt the vehicle that pulled her slow down. The siren stopped, and other outside noises grew dim. Now she could hear a steady hiss from the air vent in front of her. The vehicle traveled a bit more and then stopped.

  One side of Antaska’s enclosure opened and lowered to the ground. The foam that encased her melted away. She stayed where she was, looking down at the small being who had picked her up. Less than half her height, he stood upright in a police uniform and hat. His small body looked like a male humanoid, but his head looked like a canine. A brown and white-patched furry face, a long snout, and floppy ears.

  “Follow me,” he barked at Antaska in a sharp no nonsense voice.

  She stepped down from the container and followed him down a bare, utilitarian hallway with offices on both sides. At the end of the hallway, double doors opened automatically, and they walked through. Across the large room, another dog-headed humanoid sat behind a tall desk staring down at them. As Antaska followed the small police dog toward the desk, she heard someone speaking. She turned her head to look down toward the voice.

  “Looks like you caught a live one today, Juffy,” said a being with a dog’s head wearing a police uniform but lying on the floor.

  “Ruff,” was all the answer Juffy gave.

  He kept going and stopped in front of the large desk, looking up at the dog-headed being behind it. Antaska stopped and looked up too. The being, who appeared to have a small humanoid female body, turned her sharp beagle eyes on Antaska.

  “Name and planet of origin?” she demanded.

  “Antaska from Earth,” Antaska answered.

  “How do you plead?” the beagle woman asked Antaska.

  “What are you charging me with?” Antaska asked.

  “I’ll ask the questions here,” said the beagle. “Are you guilty or innocent?”

  “I’m innocent,” Antaska answered.

  “The judge will decide that,” said the beagle.

  “But what crime are you accusing me of?” Antaska demanded.

  “That’s not your concern,” the beagle woman answered sternly. And then she shouted, “Judge!”

  A black curtain behind the tall desk parted, and a big orange cat head poked through. Then a large orange-striped cat standing taller than half Antaska’s height on four feet padded over to her. The big cat looked more like an overgrown Earth domestic cat than one of Earth’s extinct dangerous felines. It circled her, rubbing against her ankles, and then the large cat head thumped against the side of her leg.

  Antaska’s mind turned to her small cat Potat. I don’t think Potat would approve of this, she thought.

  She felt a rumble against her leg and heard the sound of a low purr.

  The big cat didn’t say anything, either out loud or telepathically, but Antaska sensed some kind of probing communication coming from it. A gentle feeling of connection enveloped her mind and entire body. Images flooded her mind. Cats, dogs, and humanoids. Running fast through fields and woods. Looking out at strange planets through a space ship view portal.

  The pictures flashed through her mind too fast to focus on, but they left her with the feeling that she knew this feline creature. She knew he was a male, and now he knew her too.

  The
big orange head pulled away from her leg, and the cat faced toward the beagle behind the desk.

  “Innocent or guilty?” the beagle barked at him.

  He looked up at her but didn’t answer in any way that Antaska could hear or understand.

  “Cat says she’s good,” said the dog-headed male standing on her other side.

  The beagle woman lifted a small hammer and pounded it on her desk.

  “Very well, you may go,” she said to Antaska.

  Antaska turned to leave. The big cat turned and walked with her, keeping close to her side.

  “Where are you going?” the beagle shouted at him.

  He kept padding along next to Antaska and didn’t answer anything that she could hear.

  “We’ve got more criminals coming in who need to be judged today! Where do you think we’ll find another judge at this hour?” the beagle woman yelled after the departing cat.

  Again, Antaska heard no answer. Only the sound of her space boots thudding, big soft paws padding, and big sharp claws clicking on the hard floor.

  I’m sure Potat isn’t going to like this, she thought as the big double doors opened, and she passed through with the big cat right next to her.

  Chapter 3

  Back on Earth…

  Pweet brooded on the couch in back of the viewing room. Waiting and waiting. Her restless heels marked the time, kicking the seconds away. Some of the giant green aliens who walked by looked in, but none of them stopped at her room. She watched as the crowds thinned. And thinned some more, until finally, the hallway was empty.

  Still, Pweet didn’t feel like leaving. There was nowhere she wanted to go. She sat alone in the room staring out at the empty hallway with her mind empty to match.

  After a while, a door opened behind her. One of the human administrators walked in. An older woman dressed in black, but not the same one who took the interested alien away.

  The woman stood next to the couch and spoke to Pweet.

  “Everyone’s gone now, dear. It’s time for you to go back to your dorm. I’m sorry you didn’t get selected this time. There’s always next time,” she said.

  But the graying bun on her head shook as if to say no.

  Pweet turned and looked up at her.

  “That’s what you people tell me every time, but every time I come back here, the same thing happens. One of the Verdantes gets interested in me. Then you administrators come and take them away, and they never come back. What are you telling them?” Pweet asked.

  The administrator sat down on the couch next to her.

  “Now Pweet,” she said. “Your name is Pweet, right?”

  Pweet nodded her head.

  “Pweet, I’m Alabama7,” said the older woman. “I’ve been an administrator for the Verdantes for over 200 years. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I know what you’re going through, and I want to help you.”

  “Tell me what?” asked Pweet.

  “The reason none of the Verdantes are selecting you is because you have some negative things in your school history,” said Alabama7.

  “What? What are you talking about!” asked Pweet, starting to raise her voice.

  “Now, now. There’s no need to get agitated,” said Alabama7.

  She reached over and patted Pweet’s hand with her smaller lined hand.

  “I’m talking about scores for obedience, humility, honesty, and other things like emotional stability, said Alabama7. “Yours are very low. The Verdantes expect us to report the scores of any humans who might be problematic. And that’s why no one has selected you. The choice is up to them of course, but we must tell them about your low scores. You can keep coming here every six months if you want to. But it might save you some pain if you accept the reality that they’re not going to take you.”

  “What!” said Pweet, almost shouting. “I’m honest. I’m humble! I’m obedient! I’m emotionally stable! Who told you I’m not?”

  Alabama7 wiped a hand across her brow. She stood up and reached into a pocket in her jacket.

  “Please calm down. This is all in your space school records. You don’t want more added to your record, now do you?” she asked.

  But Pweet could not calm down. She stood up and clenched her fists, trying to control her rage, but it didn’t work.

  “I am not emotionally unstable!” she yelled down into the frightened face of Alabama7.

  Just then, the door opened behind them, and a male administrator walked in. He walked up to close Pweet, towering over her by several inches.

  Alabama7 breathed out a loud—a relieved sigh.

  “What’s going on here?” asked the brown-haired bulky man, looking from one to the other of the two women.

  “Ah! Joones3. I’m so glad you’re here. Could you please escort young Pweet to the exit? It’s time for her to leave now,” said Alabama7.

  Pweet didn’t say anything. She knew resistance would be futile.

  “Certainly,” said Joones3. “This way, young lady.”

  He gestured with a hand toward the door. Pweet walked out ahead of him into the round lobby in the center of the human viewing rooms. She got on the escalator that went down to the exits.

  At the bottom of the escalator, there were two choices. One was another escalator to the underground moving walkway that carried human riders back to space school. The other was a door to outside. It was raining out there. Most people took the walkway, and Pweet usually did. But today the rain appealed to her. It seemed to match her mood.

  Joones3 stood waiting for Pweet to leave.

  “Time to go, young lady,” he said, gesturing toward the elevator down to the automatic walkway.

  “I think I’ll walk back today instead,” said Pweet.

  “But it’s raining,” said Joones3, as she headed to the exit door.

  Pweet heard him mutter something just before she opened the door and left.

  Outside, a steady stream of water poured down on Pweet. It was chilly and uncomfortable. Somehow, it helped. She walked across a small paved area in front of the building and stopped next to a small artificial p0ol. Rain splashed down into the pool, breaking its usual perfect symmetry. Pweet was soaked through.

  She turned and looked back at the building she’d just left. She looked up at the high-ceilinged third floor where the Verdantes stayed. Large windows spotted its outer wall. A few green faces were at the windows. It was too far away to see their features clearly, but some were male and some were female, and they weren’t so giant looking from this distance.

  Pweet could see some of them looking out at her. She was probably an unusual sight, out here standing in the soaking rain.

  As she stared back up at them, she felt the pain of their rejection flood through her. A harsh, almost unbearable pain. Pweet looked into the eyes looking down at her. And she felt as if the terrible pain inside her was trying to communicate itself back to them. No words, no thoughts, just pure emotion with a life of its own.

  The Verdantes stared back at her, and now she felt discomfort coming from their eyes. Pweet didn’t break her stare. She felt stuck there as if mesmerized.

  Then something strange happened. Around the heads of the three or four green faces looking down at her, there appeared a square-shaped light. Transparent, but as if floating in the air around their heads.

  Am I imagining this? Pweet wondered.

  Pweet kept looking up. Now she felt something cold and helpless coming from the eyes of the Verdantes. She had a strong sense that something needed to be communicated but could not be. Pweet knew there was something hopeless and sad that she shared with them, but they had rejected her. They had all the power. She had none. But all of a sudden, incomprehensibly, she felt like she was better off than they were.

  Pweet turned and walked away. The pouring rain slowed to light drops and then stopped. Instead of taking the paved path that led straight back to the Earth human dorms, she headed out into the empty field surrounding the Verdante building. She walked al
ong, pushing her feet through the ankle-high grass, and the sun came out and warmed her.

  From a high window, a green face watched Pweet walk away. M. Mort, now with his mental shield up, felt nothing but its extreme coldness. There were no humans close by to blunt the effects the coldness. But it was still an improvement over the almost unbearable emotional pain he’d felt moments ago. The pain had come when he looked down into Pweet’s intense, staring eyes.

  Was that real, or did I imagine it? M. Mort wondered. Maybe looking at her activated my guilt and my feelings of loss because I thought she was the right pet for me? She couldn’t have communicated anything to me. Right? Because Earth humans aren’t telepathic. Right?

  When M. Mort had felt that pain, he’d instinctively pulled up his telepathic mental shield. He was at enough distance from the other Verdante adolescents that he shouldn’t have had to. Not to protect himself from them reading his thoughts and vice versa. And for most of the time on this trip to Earth, all of them had kept their shields down even when they were together. Everyone had the same happy, hopeful thoughts about adopting their new pets, so their was no need to hide those thoughts from each other.

  At 650 years old, they had all just reached adolescence. Verdante children didn’t use their mental shields, but adolescents were expected to start using them. They were cold and uncomfortable.

  Being an adolescent hasn’t been that great so far, M. Mort thought. And it looks like being an adult will be even worse. He sighed telepathically.

  As M. Mort turned away to walk back to his quarters, he passed by some other Verdante adolescents still standing by the windows. He felt even more coldness. Their shields were up too! Why? A few of them turned and glared accusingly at him through narrowed eyes with corners lowered.

  What? he wondered.

  But of course, they couldn’t hear his thoughts with their shields up.

  After Pweet had walked about a mile, she stopped and looked back. The Verdante building looked like a toy in the distance. In the other direction, toy-sized trees blocked the sight of the Earth human dorms. Pweet didn’t feel like going there yet.