Alien Pets

by Trisha McNary

  She took the news very well, thought M. Hoyvil with relief.

  He stood up and walked with Antaska toward the door. He hadn’t admitted to himself how worried he’d been that she might experience some type of emotional or mental breakdown.

  By showing herself to be resilient and adaptable, she has once again confirmed my superior abilities in choosing a good companion, he silently congratulated himself.

  When they reached the door, M. Hoyvil heard a small “meow.” Potat had followed them and seemed intent on going along with them to class. M. Hoyvil looked down at her, forgetting his former feelings of resentment. It was difficult for him to stay mad at such a cute tiny creature.

  “I’d like to take you along, but I don’t know if the instructor will allow non-humanoids in class.” M. Hoyvil chose his words carefully and spoke out loud for Antaska’s benefit. “I’ll ask the instructor if we can bring you next time,” he promised.

  “I’d really like to take you,” Antaska said too.

  But Potat turned without another look at either of them and walked on stiff legs back toward the door to Antaska’s room. She seemed to communicate displeasure by bristling her fur and switching her gray-ringed tail rapidly back and forth. Its cottony white tip pointed accusingly from side to side.

  M. Hoyvil’s astronomy class was taught in the same room as his last class, which Antaska learned had been galactic politics. A similar amount of male and female Verdante students filled the room. But less Earth humans were present than had been in the last class.

  Antaska wondered if they were exhausted from the hard workout too and resting in their rooms. Or had some been bored by the long presentation they could see but not understand? Antaska was tired too, but she was curious.

  As soon as she entered the room, Antaska heard whispering voices. She remembered what M. Hoyvil told her about building a mental wall, and she tried it. She concentrated on blocking out the whispers by picturing a wall in her mind between her and the sounds. Suddenly, the whispers were gone. It worked!

  The instructor of the astronomy class was a ten-foot-tall, green-skinned female with large light green eyes and shoulder-length light green hair. Her bright red ship suit emphasized her green coloring. And she was clearly younger than the political science teacher, with very few lines on her large, heart-shaped feminine face.

  A holographic display of the galaxy appeared above the raised platform at the back and center of the room. Antaska sat up straight in her utilitarian chair and watched in fascination. The view zoomed out to show the Milky Way as a part of its local galactic group. Then it zoomed out even more to where it became too small to see as part of its local supercluster.

  The instructor pointed her wand to a spot within the supercluster. Antaska wondered if she was showing them the space ship’s approximate location of the Milky Way. The hologram changed and displayed more astronomical features. Antaska thought she recognized some but not most of them. She felt a longing to understand what was being taught.

  “Maybe I could understand some of this if I stopped trying to block it out,” she thought.

  But as the idea grew more appealing, another part of her brain protested and quickly shut down this line of thinking. And with that, a dark cloud seemed to descend in Antaska’s mind. She found herself numbly watching a rotating 3-D view of what looked like black holes and ignoring the whispers for the time being.

  Into her mental numbness, thoughts of Eegor returned. Antaska felt a compulsion to solve the riddle of his true intentions toward her and the solidity of his relationship with Tilde. Intriguing questions and possible answers circled endlessly through her mind, causing her to experience mingled feelings of guilt and pleasure.

  When the holograph faded, and the teacher sat down, M. Hoyvil told Antaska he would be right back. He walked to the back of the class and stood at the end of the short line in front of the teacher’s large desk. The teacher and each of the students stared silently at each other for a few moments, then the students turned and walked away. Absorbed in her mental fantasy world, Antaska waited patiently as M. Hoyvil moved up in line to take his turn.

  M. Hoyvil spoke to his teacher. “The lecture today was fascinating,” he said, beginning the telepathic conversation with a compliment. “In addition to my human companion here today,” he said with a snaky wave of his six-fingered hand toward Antaska, “I have another pet in my care. She’s actually the pet of my human, a small feline, and she’s very interested in astronomy. She expressed the desire to attend classes with us. Would you mind if I bring her to the next class?”

  “Are you asking me if you can bring a non-humanoid animal into my class?” asked the instructor in amused disbelief.

  “Well, yes. They’re actually sentient, you know. She’s very well behaved,” he said, stretching the truth a bit, “and she won’t be any trouble in the classroom.”

  The enormous light green eyes of the big teacher crinkled up high and seemed to glow with bright amusement. She laughed loud but unheard by Earth human ears.

  “I’m very sorry, but I can’t allow that. It’s critical to your upcoming travels in space that you and the other students develop a thorough understanding of this complex subject. Even a well-behaved animal would prove to be a distraction to the serious learning that is the purpose of this class.”

  M. Hoyvil hadn’t expected her to agree, and he accepted this answer gracefully. He bowed his goodbye and returned to Antaska. She climbed down the steps from her chair, and he told her he’d asked the teacher if Potat could attend class, but she wouldn’t allow it. Antaska nodded vaguely. M. Hoyvil noticed that she seemed distracted. He wondered if the class had been boring for her.

  It’s too bad she can’t understand the teachers, he thought.

  When they got back to their quarters, M. Hoyvil spoke to Antaska again.

  “I need to do some homework till it’s time for dinner.”

  “OK,” said Antaska. “I’m really tired now. I think I’ll take a nap till then.”

  M. Hoyvil looked into Antaska’s room and saw Potat asleep on the bed. He was relieved that he didn’t have to tell Potat yet that the teacher wouldn’t allow her in class. He knew it would be a disappointment to the little cat.

  Maybe there’s somewhere else I can take her.

  He thought about some possible options.

  “I’ll get you when it’s time for dinner,” M. Hoyvil told Antaska, and she walked away to her room.

  Chapter 10

  At dinner, Antaska felt an undeniable curiosity to learn whether Eegor was paying any attention to her. She still couldn’t believe that such a superbly shining star of a male could really be attracted to her. Antaska looked his way and was shocked. He was looking directly at her with the same intense stare as on the previous day.

  Tilde, sitting next to him, was also looking at her through narrowed, hostile eyes. Relieved, thrilled, and ashamed all at the same time, Antaska looked away quickly. She looked down at her plate and began to eat her food in slow motion.

  Breaking through the usual silence at meals, M. Hoyvil spoke to her out loud.

  “You look very tired,” he said. “It’s been a long day. I’m glad you were able to go with me to my classes, but maybe you should get some more rest after dinner.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Antaska agreed.

  After that, she was silent, and M. Hoyvil didn’t speak to her again. Antaska knew he was talking telepathically to his friends. He ate his meal while speaking both mentally and with finger waves.

  Again, Antaska heard words, but she stayed firmly in denial.

  I’m just tired, that’s all, she told herself. I’m human. I can’t be telepathic.

  “She’s tired…game rooms…space viewing lounges,” were some of the words Antaska told herself she wasn’t hearing.

  In fact, Antaska really was tired. She was hungry, but she couldn’t remember having ever been this tired. The lunch she ate earlier, and now this dinner, was
more food than any of her previous meals on the space ship. Because of her strenuous workout, the scanner that measured the exact amounts of food and nutrients her body needed had determined that she needed more.

  Dinner was an even bigger meal than lunch to provide the extra protein and carbohydrates her body would use during sleep to rebuild new, bigger muscles. Antaska ate the large meal ravenously and drank up all her beverages, including an additional drink tube containing a light, bubbly red liquid that tasted like raspberries. She began to feel in a much better mood—still sleepy but very calm and relaxed.

  When Antaska’s mood improved, her curiosity about Eegor returned. Again, she felt the irresistible urge to find out if he was still looking at her. But she didn’t want Tilde to see her looking. Clandestinely, Antaska turned her head only partly toward the group of largest aliens among whom Eegor and Tilde sat. Then, without turning farther, she shifted her irises to the side, which allowed her to see Eegor without turning to face him.

  In her side vision, it looked like both Eegor and Tilde hadn’t moved since Antaska last looked at them. Both were still staring at her—Eegor with an intensity that could possibly be interpreted as lust, and Tilde with undisguised contempt.

  Antaska was struck by sudden dizziness, either from her convoluted eye movement or perhaps from the sight of Eegor and Tilde. She straightened her face and her eyes back in front of her, but she couldn’t resist one final look when she finished eating. This time, she was not really surprised to see both of them looking, as if frozen in that position.

  A sneaking but unwanted suspicion entered her mind that Eegor’s behavior, in particular, might not be normal. Antaska had never seen this type of behavior from any of the Earth human males or females in space school.

  On the other hand, Antaska told herself, slipping back easily into infatuation, I’ve seen all those stories in videos about love at first sight. Maybe being struck by that is the reason why he can’t stop staring at me.

  “Are you ready to leave?” asked M. Hoyvil, interrupting the train of her thoughts.

  Potat sat staring at the door, waiting for the two humanoids to return. The door rose up just when she expected it to.

  “It’s about time!” she said telepathically.

  Do they even hear me? she wondered.

  Maybe they did. They both looked down at her. The little cat glared back up at them.

  “Do you know how boring it is to be stuck inside here all day, everyday?” she asked them mentally.

  “Have you been bored?” M. Hoyvil asked her. “Maybe you can go out with me somewhere tonight.”

  “It’s about time,” said Potat.

  M. Hoyvil walked across the room and sat down on one end of the couch. Antaska followed him and climbed her stairs to sit on the other end. Potat tried a high jump to get up on the couch. This time, she didn’t make it to the top in one jump, but she dug in her claws and climbed up the top foot or so.

  Potat sat next to M. Hoyvil in her alert listening position. She rotated her small face back and forth from him to Antaska as they spoke to each other.

  M. Hoyvil started the conversation.

  “After dinner, I sometimes go out to the game room or to one of the space-viewing lounges that are around the outer rim of the ship. I’d like to take you tonight, but I can see that you need to rest. I think it would be best if I go by myself tonight. I can take you tomorrow night or when you’re feeling more energetic and used to the daily routine.”

  Potat could hear the relief in Antaska’s voice when she answered him.

  “Yes, I’d like to go with you tomorrow night, but I’m looking forward to going to sleep now.”

  It’s time to make my intentions clear, Potat decided.

  She climbed all the way up M. Hoyvil’s side and sat down on his shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice her tiny claws digging in on the climb or now digging into the material covering his shoulder.

  But Antaska noticed and said, “Get down from there. It’s time to go to sleep.”

  M. Hoyvil chuckled out loud, surprising Potat. She dug her claws in deeper.

  “I’m staying up here,” she said telepathically.

  “I think she wants to go with me, and that’s fine,” M. Hoyvil said out loud.

  He turned his giant head sideways and looked at Potat—his face bigger than her entire body.

  “The astronomy teacher said you can’t go to her class, but I don’t have to ask anyone’s permission to take you to the social venues. I’m not leaving right this second. I have to get ready first. Can you meet me back here in about thirty minutes?” he asked.

  Potat jumped down from his shoulder to the couch and began washing herself, starting by licking a paw and rubbing it on her face.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Antaska looked back and forth between the two of them with doubt in her voice and on her face.

  “She’ll be fine with me. The ship is perfectly safe, and I’ll watch her at all times,” M. Hoyvil assured her.

  Antaska still looked concerned, but Potat could tell she was too tired to put up much of an argument.

  “You stay out of trouble!” Antaska warned Potat.

  The little cat ignored her and lifted a leg up straight and high to clean between widely spread toes.

  “Goodnight then,” said Antaska to both of them.

  She turned to walk into her room.

  “Goodnight. Sleep well, and don’t worry about her,” M. Hoyvil said.

  Potat didn’t say anything. She was too busy getting ready to go out.

  Chapter 11

  The next morning, Antaska woke up feeling refreshed, with a clear mind and renewed energy. She sat up in bed and stretched, disturbing Potat, who had been curled up asleep at her side. Without opening her eyes, Potat lazily uncurled herself and rolled over onto her back, with front paws bent up in the air and back paws stuck out straight. Her curled tailed seemed to be the only thing balancing this awkward position.

  “What were you up to last night? Were you out late at a party?” Antaska didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one.

  Sighing, she got up, got ready for another day, and went out to join M. Hoyvil in the main room.

  After breakfast, M. Hoyvil spoke to Antaska on their way to the gym. “Do you think you’ll have more problems with your trainers today?”

  He seemed worried, but Antaska was thinking dreamy thoughts about Eegor.

  “I feel much better. I’m sure that everything will be fine today,” she assured him.

  “I hope you’re right about that. Call me if you need my help,” M. Hoyvil said.

  “Thank you,” said Antaska, appreciating his concern.

  Then they entered the gym and separated and go to their classes.

  On the previous day, the Earth human class had lifted weights to work their arm and shoulder muscles. On this day, the instructors had them work the muscles of their legs by doing squats, lunges, and toe lifts while holding a weight bar across their shoulders. The class also did leg lifts with ankle weights to strengthen the backs and sides of their legs. Again, the workout took the form of circuit training, and in between sets of weightlifting, they ran around the gym or jumped rope.

  Today Antaska was more used to the intense workout, and she was able to look around at the other groups of exercisers as she ran past them with her class. At the front of the gym across from M. Hoyvil’s class, there was a class of Verdante adolescent females. Antaska ran past them and headed back toward the back of the gym. There she saw another class of Earth humans that included both males and females.

  On her long trip around the huge gym, Antaska had time to look over and observe both of these two classes. Instead of running, these humans and the Verdante females were dancing to music, and their workouts didn’t seem very grueling. They lifted only light weights, and their instructors were joking and laughing with them. As time went on, the distinction between the two groups of light exercisers blurred. Some of the Verdante
females wandered over to join the human class, and some of the humans joined the Verdante class.

  When Antaska ran past M. Hoyvil’s class, she noticed only adolescent male Verdantes in the class. They strained to lift heavy weights, climbed up and down rope ladders that hung from the ceiling, and also ran around the gym or jumped in place. Antaska recognized some of these male Verdantes from the dining hall and from classes. She realized that all of their human companions were in her gym class.

  Is this some strange form of gender bias? she wondered.

  With sore legs and heaving breath, Antaska’s class finished running and returned to its usual spot in the back of the gym. Their instructors stood looking at them with grim faces. Then Eegor spoke.

  “I saw you looking with envy at the other class when you should have been focusing on your exercise. Maybe you were thinking, ‘Why can’t I be in that other class that looks so fun?’ The answer is that you are the chosen ones, and they are not. Yes, it is true, puny weak examples of humanity that you are. Don’t envy them. You’ll be traveling into deep space, and they won’t. They’ll be getting off the space ship on the Verdante home planet—not even going as far as the space station.

  “Because they’ll spend the rest of their lives in a protected and safe environment, their needs won’t be the same as yours. You’ll travel into unknown parts of the universe, and you must be strong and prepared for the unexpected. Your Verdantes have entrusted us with the responsibility of preparing you. We’ll change you from the weak, powerless creatures you are now into strong fighting machines. Be grateful and rejoice that you will have the benefit of our training.”

  Eegor stopped talking and stood glaring at the class. His contempt for the Earth humans in the class was clear. Then Antaska heard him mutter in a lower voice.

  “You weaklings get to explore deep space, while superior humans like me and Tilde only go back and forth between Earth, the Verdante home planet, and the space station.”