“Aw! You look so cute like that! Almost like a tiny human!” Antaska told her.
Then Antaska seemed to hear a small female voice talking in her head.
“Please don’t compare me to a human,” said the voice.
Antaska looked back up the ceiling.
Just another crazy thought after many today, she told herself. At least I was smart enough to never tell anyone on Earth that I thought I could hear my cat talking to me. They would have never let me take this job! And now I have to do the same thing. I can’t tell anyone I think I hear the Verdantes talking, she told herself.
With that decided, Antaska put it out of her mind and focused on the twirling show of planets up on the ceiling and walls. The familiar desire to travel to the farthest reaches of space returned.
And now, I’m really going! she thought.
Any uncertainty or confusion about her new work situation melted away. Then Antaska was slowly lulled to sleep by the relaxing sounds that called to her in some deeply instinctive way.
After Antaska and Potat had gone into their rooms, M. Hoyvil stood unmoving for several moments. The excitement of the day and the strain of verbal communication had almost drained him of energy. He thought more about Antaska.
It seems weird to call her a pet when she’s definitely a humanoid, he mused. She’s just like a small person, only less green and with only ten fingers. Just because she’s not telepathic doesn’t make her an animal or some kind of lower life form.
He shook himself out of his stillness and walked into his room.
I’m starting to act like the adults, he told himself, standing rooted to one spot, staring at nothing.
It had been a busy day, but M. Hoyvil still had some homework to finish up for his galactic politics class. He sat at his computer console typing his assignment—give arguments for or against some of the most controversial laws that govern the discovered and undiscovered planets of the Milky Way. M. Hoyvil was tired, but this was one of his favorite subjects. He was soon absorbed in his work with renewed energy.
A few hours later, M. Hoyvil finished his homework and emailed it to his teacher. Then, after getting ready to go to sleep, he pressed the blue button on a console in his room. Like Antaska and Potat, he also fell asleep listening to soothing space sounds, to dream of new discoveries and adventures.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Antaska ate another meal of different good-tasting but still unidentifiable foods in the dining hall. She was thrilled to see the unbelievably handsome human male staring at her again. The same female sat next to him glaring at Antaska. And the same tiny voice spoke in her head telling her to look away. But Antaska didn’t.
Then M. Hoyvil took Antaska back to their quarters to get Potat for their visit to the doctor. The small cat was waiting in the main room.
“We’re both going to the doctor for a checkup,” Antaska announced.
With fur fluffed high, Potat walked on stiff legs back to their bedroom and jumped up on the bed. She dug her claws deep into the bedspread and left them there. Antaska was not surprised by this behavior.
“It looks like she’ll have to ride in the carrier,” she said to M. Hoyvil.
Antaska walked to the bed and lifted Potat up in the direction that would extract her claws without pulling on them.
Did she hear the tiny voice speaking in her mind again? “You overbearing bully! Do realize how rude this is?”
Just imaging things again! thought Antaska.
She scooped the cat up and placed her in the carrier. Then she zipped it up with the quick efficiency of a person experienced in avoiding scratches.
A long walk down curved, outward and upward slanting hallways led to a tall door toward the outer part of the ship. M. Hoyvil stopped and placed his palm on a gray circle about twice the size of his hand. The circle began to glow and brighten, and then the door slid silently up and open.
“Come right in,” rumbled a deep voice from inside the door.
Antaska, pulling the floating cat carrier, followed M. Hoyvil into a large, circular room with a hard white floor and bare white walls. A gigantic-sized deep green-skinned alien stood next to one of four medical examination tables. He was heavier and much taller than M. Hoyvil, but not as tall as the giant alien who had stood next to their table in the dining hall.
This alien also looked much older, with wrinkles and a head of close-cropped graying green hair. Instead of the bright red ship suit worn by the other large aliens, he was dressed in a white medical jacket, white pants, and shoes. A few medical instruments Antaska was unfamiliar with were attached to his jacket and hanging around his neck.
“Who do we have here?” inquired the enormous doctor as he bent down to look in Potat’s cage.
“I’ve brought Antaska and her cat Potat for their checkups,” M. Hoyvil replied.
“Ah, yes! Hello, I’m Dr. Daji. Please be seated on the table with Potat so we can begin,” the doctor said to Antaska.
She lifted the carrier with Potat up onto the five-foot-high examination table. Then she opened the door and reached in to get Potat. The little cat scooted to the back of the cage and growled.
“If she could speak, she would be saying ‘bad man,’” thought Antaska.
Dr. Daji said nothing, but he stared at Potat, and Antaska heard faint whispering, as if from very far away. One of two whispering voices was a very deep bass-pitched male, and one was a much higher-pitched soprano female.
Antaska wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard the male voice say the words, “won’t hurt.” The whispering continued for a minute, and then Potat stopped growling and stepped calmly out from the carrier.
The corners of M. Hoyvil’s eyes lifted high. He turned to look at the doctor. They started at each other in silence for several minutes while Antaska sat waiting. She had accepted these strange staring sessions as normal for the telepathic Verdantes. So she waited, and her thoughts drifted back to the disturbingly attractive man from the dining hall.
Antaska heard more whispering, but she didn’t pay much attention to it. The male and female whisperers she had heard before were now joined by a higher-pitched tenor male voice. In the midst of her musings, Antaska thought she heard the words “intelligence” and “toddler.” But the words didn’t make any sense, and they were much less interesting than the man who was on her mind.
If Antaska had fully understood the silent telepathic conversations that just had taken place, she might have been more interested.
M. Hoyvil, on the other hand, was very interested in the ongoing conversation. First, he heard Dr. Daji talking to Potat.
“Don’t be afraid, little one, I promise I won’t hurt you,” Dr. Daji had assured Potat. “I only want help you and your friend.”
“My pet, my pet,” Potat had answered possessively.
“Yes, or course, she is your pet, please forgive my mistake. I only want to help you and your pet. Will you please come out?” the large doctor had asked in his deep but gentle telepathic voice.
“Not hurt?” Potat asked again.
After further assurances from the doctor, she had been convinced, and she stepped out of the cage.
Then M. Hoyvil spoke telepathically to Dr. Daji.
“Can these small creatures really understand and speak the telepathic language when they are pets of the non-telepathic humans?” M. Hoyvil asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.
“Why yes,” was the reply. “Although these creatures have the intelligence of a young toddler, they are telepathically sentient. But because Earth humans aren’t telepathic, they aren’t aware of this. And because cats don’t have the vocal cords to express themselves in a way that would be understandable to them, the humans believe that cats don’t have language and aren’t even sentient. It is really quite amusing that both species think they are the owner, and the other is the pet,” the doctor concluded with a rumbling chuckle.
M. Hoyvil watched Antaska take the cage off t
he table and climb up the steps to sit next to Potat.
“We’ll start with a scan,” said Dr. Daji, speaking out loud.
He pressed a black button on the side of the table, and Antaska and Potat were surrounded by blue light. Then a wide holographic screen appeared from floor to ceiling on one side of the examination table. The screen was filled with slowly scrolling symbols and pictures. The huge doctor read the screen, occasionally pushing a button to stop and then to continue the information flow. After a few minutes, the last of the symbols rose up to disappear at the top of the screen. Then the screen itself disappeared.
Dr. Daji spoke to M. Hoyvil telepathically while Antaska and Potat sat waiting.
“As we expect with pets from Earth, they both have some cellular damage from the radioactive wastes that still remain on the planet,” the doctor explained. “Fortunately, in the 10,000 years that we’ve been caring for humans, we’ve cleaned up much of the waste left from their prehistoric wars. The cellular damage we see in humans has been decreasing. And when we take them as pets, we can give them medical treatment to repair their cells. I’ll begin the cellular repair today. With the medicines they’ll receive in their food, this problem should be fixed in less than a year.
“As suggested by your human’s appearance, her DNA contains genes from both of the two separated Earth populations that survived the prehistoric nuclear and environmental destruction of most life on the planet. This includes a fine mix of the ancient races that covered the Earth in pre-apocalyptic times.
“If you’ve been studying your ancient Earth history, you may recognize some of the names of the tribes that contributed to her genetic makeup. Most of her genes are from the humans who survived in the North Pole area. These include the peoples who were known as Irish, Chinese, German, and a few others I am not able to identify. Thanks to the genetic variance and improvement program we’ve provided humans, her DNA also includes some of the ancient tribes from south of Earth’s equator.
“Obviously, that material was contributed from the gene labs of Earth’s South Pole government. It’s a very strong mix that will be a nice addition to the DNA of your own future offspring.
“If you’ll just sign this release form giving me legal permission, I’ll extract the standard genetic material for storage including one thousand of her eggs, which she won’t miss. This will provide you all the future DNA you could possibly need plus extra amounts you may choose to contribute to the Verdante planet-wide genetic supplies for the benefit of our race.
“I’ll also collect genetic material from the cat, which is rare and hard to obtain away from Earth. They don’t live long, and many of our human pets become distraught at their loss. Providing them a new copy is often just the thing to cheer them up again.
“Of course, I don’t need to remind you that we strongly advise against the same practice when it comes to replacing Earth humans. I understand that human pets have a much shorter lifespan compared to ours, and their owners often become extremely attached to them. But even a young child knows that a clone is not the same person. To recreate a new life as a twin of a preexisting life goes against our knowledge that evolution depends on achieving ever-greater genetic diversity. Don’t you agree?”
M. Hoyvil had waited politely during the doctor’s long speech. The oldest of the Verdante adults were the longest talkers, he had found, but they were also due the most respect. M. Hoyvil spoke in what he hoped was a polite manner.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about this, and it seems strange to call Antaska a ‘pet’ when she’s really a person. I think I’d rather call her my companion instead. After all, she is a sentient humanoid, not a mere animal.”
Potat turned toward him and let out a small hiss, and he paused in surprise.
“My apologies,” he addressed the words telepathically to Potat and then turned back to speak silently to the doctor. The revelation of Potat’s telepathic abilities had given birth to a new and even more disturbing concern.
“Her cat is telepathic. What if Antaska becomes telepathic too and finds out that we Verdantes take humans as pets—we don’t hire them as they’re told? I’m sure she’d be offended. And anyway, I don’t think it’s ethical to take her genetic material and use it without her permission—or her pet’s DNA,” he added.
“I don’t mind calling Antaska something else besides ‘pet’ since someone else has claimed prior ownership,” said the big doctor.
He glanced at Potat with amused, upward-titled eyes.
“But I can assure you it’s very unlikely that one individual will suddenly become telepathic. It just doesn’t happen that way. You should know from your anthropology classes that a species as a whole becomes telepathic gradually over what could be millions of years.
“However, I would argue that our taking her DNA is not unethical since it’s no different than the current practices of her home planet. As you know, the North and South Pole Earth governments have complete control over human reproduction. All new humans are created in the birth labs from government-approved genetic mixes. In addition to sterilizing Earth humans at birth, their scientists collect much more material than what we take from our human passengers.
“We understand that this practice is just one of many population-control measures the Earth humans put into place after the near loss of all life on the planet. They control their populations to avoid the possibility of another apocalypse and the return of their civilization to a stone age, or worse. So they developed rather extreme controlling governments in both poles.
“Even though she is now legally your pet, she actually has much more freedom while living among us. On Earth, she would never be allowed to reproduce her own children if she wanted them. But we allow the humans who travel with us to make that choice. Our collecting her DNA now will allow her to have children if she ever decides she wants them. The veterinarian on the next part of your voyage will only be an apprentice and won’t have the capability to extract her DNA. And if you wait till she returns from the hundred-year trip, her eggs may no longer be usable.
“Also, you should really think about your own future children. As you know, the Verdante gene pool is limited. We need to add material from Earth humans to ensure the continued viability of our own race.”
M. Hoyvil was not really thinking much about his future children at this point in his life. That wouldn’t happen till at least 300 years from now. It seemed like an impossibly long time to a Verdante of his age. But he wanted to give Antaska the choice of having her own children in the future. He also wanted to give her the choice of cloning Potat, even though he found cloning somewhat distasteful in general.
“Very well, you’ve convinced me. I’ll sign the release form for both of them,” he said with a telepathic sigh of resignation.
“Finally,” continued the doctor, “they’re both malnourished due to that ghastly excuse for food they eat on Earth. The humans living on Earth continue to resist our attempts to improve their diets by insisting on eating harmful garbage,” he fumed.
“There will be no more of that now that they’re in my care,” said M. Hoyvil with an air of responsibility. “I can already see an improvement from just the few healthy meals they’ve had so far on the space ship. They seem perkier and more alert.”
“That’s wonderful,” answered the doctor. “I’ll keep them here overnight, and you can get them in the morning. Since you’ll be traveling through deep space, I’ll put locator chips in their ears in case they get lost or stolen.”
Antaska was relieved when the two aliens finally stopped staring at each other, and M. Hoyvil turned and spoke out loud to her.
“Dr. Daji wants you both to stay here overnight for treatment. He needs to do some minor cellular repairs. It will be painless, and you’ll sleep right through it. Will that be OK?” he asked her.
Antaska agreed somewhat nervously. The large alien doctor pressed another button on the exam table, and Antaska and Potat were surrounded by soft
orange light.
In what seemed like the next moment, Antaska opened her eyes to find herself lying on a round bed with white bed covers in a small, round white room. Potat was curled up asleep by her side. A chime sound came from the door to the room, and it opened.
“May I come in?” asked Dr. Daji.
He peeked his enormous green head around the edge of the door.
“Yes,” Antaska answered.
The noise had woke Potat, and she looked up groggily.
“M. Hoyvil is here to take you back to your quarters now,” said the doctor. “Your treatment is complete, and you are both in good health for the voyage. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, we’re ready,” Antaska answered for both of them.
She got up and found the cat carrier on a nearby table. M. Hoyvil entered the room and looked at Potat, and Antaska heard some more whispering sounds.
“I think she wants to walk,” said M. Hoyvil.
“We can try that,” Antaska answered doubtfully.
“Meroww, mrow, mroww!” said Potat.
Then Antaska heard that small voice in her head again.
“Don’t put me in that cage like a prisoner! I want to walk! And stop pretending like you don’t hear me because I know you do.”
The medical treatment has left my head fuzzy and groggy. It’s making me imagine stuff again, Antaska told herself.
M. Hoyvil placed Potat on the floor. Much to Antaska’s surprise, the little cat followed them down the hallways of the space ship all they way back to their quarters. And she didn’t run off or stop to sniff and scratch at anything.
Antaska considered the possibility that Potat could be more intelligent that she had given her credit for. She knew that cats in these modern times were more evolved and lived much longer than the house pets they had been in Earth’s ancient days. History books said that before the great apocalypse over one million years ago, unlike the ancient dogs, cats couldn’t be trained to perform tasks helpful to humans. In the case of Potat, Antaska didn’t think she was showing that she could be trained, rather that she preferred to walk.
Alien Pets Page 4
