Have Tail, Will Travel

by Nancey Cummings

  As she reached the stairs, she heard Amity say, “She has shoes for walking. All shoes are for walking. She is ridiculous. Send her back before the kits grow too attached.”

  “You made your opinion known, sister. No more,” Merit replied in a warning tone.

  All the good humor and warmth from the chaotic family breakfast that filled her heart left in a moment. Amity’s words reminded her how very alien she, herself, was on this planet and still an outsider to this family.

  Merit entered the bedroom, gave her a soft smile, and brushed the back of his hand over the top of her head as he walked by to the cleansing room. The sound of the running shower filled the silence.

  Kal brushed her hair and pulled up in a bun. With a glance at her suitcase, she debated whether or not she should change into something smarter. She selected the bright yellow tunic because the color always made her feel bright and sunny on an otherwise dreary day. The fabric had pilled, though. If Merit planned to introduce her around town, she should change.

  No. Kal stopped herself from overthinking. A shirt was just a shirt, and if Amity meant to snark at her, a wardrobe switch wouldn’t change that.

  She took comfort in knowing that Merit told his sister to stop criticizing, as cold a comfort as that was. He didn’t deny Amity’s statements, but he said to stop. Cold comfort, indeed.

  Chapter Five

  Kalini

  Kal ran into Dare in the hallway. Rather, he ran into her. “Are you going to walk us to school?” he asked, satchel slung over one shoulder.

  “Are you?” Clarity bounced on her toes, tail waving exuberantly behind her.

  “That’s the plan,” Kal said. “Tell me, what is your favorite subject in school?”

  Clarity and Dare babbled about what they’ve learned and recited memorized facts to impress her during the journey. Merit casually held her hand as they walked, as if they had years of experience strolling and holding hands. The children’s chatter did not stop until they arrived at a plain building with metal siding. The school. Kal identified the material as the same stuff that made Merit’s house.

  The houses they passed were similar in design, compact and boxy. The larger buildings were multiple boxes joined together. The conformity surprised her. Some had a bit of personality and flair with paint or gardens in the front but could not shake the sameness. The town could very well have been from an advert for one of the many Interstellar Union colonies.

  “Much of Drac is constructed with colonial equipment. It is easier to ship than traditional building materials,” Merit said, as if he anticipated Kal’s question.

  True to his word, the general store was the same metal box in a no-nonsense green, with the name of the shop painted on the side of the building. The front windows had been folded back, allowing Kal and Merit to walk directly in from the pavement.

  Notices were plastered to the wall at the entrance. Unable to read, she focused on the image. A creature sprawled on the grass, the front looking much like a spider but with a segmented, elongated body. Six legs bent at an unnatural angle, but she focused on the two massive pincers at the front.

  “Is that a mornclaw?” She touched his upper arm to gain his attention.

  “A hatchling. Maybe half a day old.”

  A baby monster? Didn’t look like a baby to her. “What does the sign say?”

  “Hmm. Oh, a miner brought home an egg sac as a curiosity. This is warning civilians to report eggs and anyone who thinks they can tame a mornclaw.”

  “What happened to the miner?”

  “His family was lucky to escape,” Merit said bluntly. The fact that he left out the miner implied that he was not as fortunate as his family and paid dearly for his mistake.

  “Right, no monster pets,” she said.

  A counter with rows and rows of glass containers ran along one side with a door to the back stockroom. Shelving filled the rest of the space. A woman, another Tal, stood behind the counter, chatting with Amity. They exchanged greetings and Kal learned the woman was called Serene.

  “Browse. Grab anything you like, even, um, female products,” Merit said. A pained expression crossed his face as he spoke.

  She fought back the urge to tease him about being embarrassed talking about tampons. They weren’t there yet. “I’ll take a look at what they have,” she said.

  “Serene knows to put it on my tab.”

  “That’s not necessary.” She had her own money.

  “I need to check on a delivery. The replacement parts for the vehicle should have arrived yesterday.”

  “Was it on the same transport shuttle as me?”

  He nodded. “The plan was to have you ride along with the delivery, but Amity volunteered to fetch you. She didn’t want you getting the wrong impression.”

  Amity wanted to take the measure of me, more like. Kal pressed her lips together and kept her impolite thoughts to herself. She was the stranger here. While her new sister-in-law’s behavior struck Kal as extraordinarily rude and unwelcoming, she didn’t know the culture. Perhaps this was some sort of vetting process.

  Sure, and Kal was also the Queen of England. What other whoppers would she tell herself before mustering the courage the speak with Amity?

  “You’ll be fine alone for a moment?”

  “I can shop. You’ll find I’m skilled at it,” she answered. She had a short list of toiletries she needed to replace. While she brought all her favorite soaps, shampoo, and lotions for the journey, after three months, the bottles neared empty. That morning, she sniffed the bottles Merit kept in the shower. They were nice, but she wanted to take the opportunity to grab a scent she preferred.

  Kal picked up a basket at the front and strolled through the aisles until she found the personal hygiene products. The implanted translation chip did not work on written language. She had tried to learn written Tal, but this language was something else, probably Corravian.

  Kal picked up bottles with floral labels and opened the caps to smell. When confused, she took out her slim communication unit and used an app to decipher the labels. Conversation from the front counter drifted over.

  “You should have seen her yesterday, dressed like it was a fashion runway. She’ll never understand our ways. And what she prepared for breakfast. Cake. Cake!” Kal recognized Amity’s voice.

  “Not everyone is the cook you are,” the woman behind the counter—Serene—replied. “He can’t possibly think that she’ll make him happy.”

  Kal felt a self-conscious dread that they were talking about her.

  “A human? Of all the species, why a human?”

  Yup, they were talking about her.

  “You know what they say, humans breed like pests. If you see one, there’s three more waiting,” Amity said.

  “He wants kits? Is that what he told you?”

  “He tells me nothing,” Amity said.

  “No tail. No stripes. Her face is flat. How can you even know what she’s thinking with that flat face?” the other woman said.

  “She’s too different.”

  “She’ll never be accepted here.”

  “She’s probably just interested in his money,” Amity added.

  The two women nodded and hummed in agreement.

  Humiliation bubbled and churned in her stomach. Merit’s money? What money? He had a comfortable but aging home, not a fortune.

  That didn’t matter. She had her own money.

  Kal looked down at her basket of toiletries, wanting to bury herself in something. She tallied up the numbers in her head, letting the logic of numbers soothe the ache in her. Cruel people were everywhere. She couldn’t let one bitch spoil… everything.

  Everything. Kal had a commitment when she got on that shuttle and left Earth. Going back wasn’t impossible, but she refused to give up because one woman said mean things behind her back. She wasn’t a quitter. That didn’t make Amity’s words hurt less.

  Damn the torpedoes. She wasn’t a quitter, and she didn’t back d

own from bullies.

  She approached the counter with a forced smile. Let them see that their sharp words had no effect. “Good morning. May I place these items here while I continue to shop?” Kal set the basket down, not waiting for a response.

  “Certainly. Shall I bill Merit?” The woman unpacked the basket.

  “That’s not necessary. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I married him for his money.” Kal produced a credit stick. “Will this do? I know we’re a long way from anything, but it is the most common form of payment in the galaxy.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes but said nothing, accepting the credit stick.

  That settled, Kal drifted over to the clothing section. She just needed a wrap and maybe a pair of practical shoes, one she wouldn’t mind getting dirty.

  “A human!”

  Kal jolted at the loud male voice behind her. She clasped the wrap to her chest, fabric dragging on the floor, and spun around. The fabric twisted around her feet and she stumbled.

  A Fremmian male—seven feet tall and blue—steadied her with one massive, meaty hand. The look of pure glee on his face confused her. “Merit didn’t tell me he mated a human. This is wonderful.”

  “Thank you?” Kal glanced around, searching for her missing husband. He said he would only be gone for a moment.

  The male bounced on the balls of his feet. “We don’t get many humans on Corra, the distance, you see.”

  “It was a long trip,” she said blandly, taking a step back. The male advanced, oblivious to her unease. She kept on backing up until her bottom hit the shelving behind her.

  “Our survivability has increased thirty-four percent! Don’t you see? Humans are good luck.” His cheeks glowed with splotches. Kal knew that Fremmians had a bio-luminescence tied to their emotional state. They wore their hearts on their sleeves, so to speak, and made deception very, very difficult. As a result, Fremm had a culture of speaking their mind, no matter how it could be perceived as rude. Whatever the splotches on the male’s face meant—joy, excitement, curiosity—he really meant it.

  “I’m not good luck,” she said.

  “Everyone knows humans are good luck. If you want out of a bad spot, follow the human. You’re survivors. Soft-skinned, no natural defenses, senses dull and practically blind in the dark, you evolved on a hostile environment world. Your stomach acid can dissolve metal. Can you spit acid at your enemies? You look like you want to spit.”

  Kal wished she could projectile spit acid at her enemies. Anything to get away from this man.

  He remained oblivious and continued, “And you can go days without water, and your body is mostly water. How is that even possible? You use water to regulate your temperature, but you can forego it if you must. And food! You can go weeks without food.” His voice incrementally grew louder as he listed every interesting human fact he knew.

  Kal had a sudden fear that this man was a bit unhinged and might lock her in a basement to test exactly how long she could go without food or water. “Um, I really can’t say. I should find my husband—”

  “My mate cannot go hours without whining for a meal,” a Fremmian female said, putting an arm across the male’s shoulders. She stood nearly as tall as the man. A heavy jawline and furrowed brow gave her a formidable, warrior-like appearance. She was not a woman to be trifled with. “Forgive my mate. He is very excitable,” she said.

  Kal’s gaze drifted from the male to the female’s warm smile and relaxed. “I can see that.”

  “Can you read Fremm skin?” she asked. “Forgive me. I am thoughtless. I am Belith. This is my mate, Sigald.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Kalini, Merit’s wife,” Kal said. She stuck out a hand to shake. Belith looked at it quizzically before giving a weak shake, as if she were afraid a strong grip could crush Kal’s delicate human hand.

  “Oh, we know who you are. The entire town speaks of nothing else,” Belith said.

  “You’d think they’d have something better to do,” Kal said, pushing back a stray lock of hair behind an ear.

  “Apparently not. Drac is a small community, and we rely on Merit for our safety. Curiosity is natural.” Belith peered down at the wrap Kal held. “I arrived some months ago. I know what it is to be a recent arrival in a close-knit town.”

  “They’ll gossip about me, I suppose.”

  “Until someone new arrives,” Belith said with a nod.

  “Is it true that ancient humans would take the organs of the dead and implant them in others? For health benefits?” Sigald asked.

  “Organ transplants. Modern medicine can regrow a failing organ now,” Kal said.

  “Fascinating.”

  Belith sighed dramatically and gave her husband a small push. “You have a list? Perhaps you should gather the items on the list.”

  “Oh, shopping can wait. How often do I get the chance to speak to a real live human?”

  “You are frightening her,” she said.

  “I am not. Am I?” Sigald turned expectantly to Kal.

  “You’re a bit overwhelming, actually.” Kal died a little inside at how rude she sounded, telling a stranger that his enthusiasm overwhelmed her.

  “She’s too nice to admit it. Go. Pester someone else.” Belith gave another gentle shove. Sigald gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. She sighed, a pleased expression on her face. Her cheeks glowed gently. “My apologies. He means well.”

  “No worries. He came on a bit strong is all.” Enthusiasm and an inability to read social cues, lovely. Still, Sigald and Belith were the first people to say something nice to her all morning, other than Merit and the children. “You said you were new here, too?”

  “Oh yes.” A smile spread on her face, transforming her from a fierce warrior to a lovestruck woman. “Celestial Mates matched me to my Sigald.”

  Kal perked up at the name. “Really? Me too.”

  “I believe Sigald gave Merit the idea, actually,” Belith said. “How are you finding everything?”

  Kal thought back to the conversation she overheard, and her gaze drifted to the counter and the sharp-eyed Tal woman. She said, “Well, it’s early days yet.”

  Belith dipped her head in agreement. “Most everyone here is from somewhere else. Do not let them make you feel out of place.”

  But she was out of place.

  Belith followed her gaze to the front of the store. Specifically, the Tal woman at the counter. “Pfft. That one only wants what another has. Do not worry yourself with her.”

  “Are you telling me she’s jealous?”

  “She has no room in her heart to love anyone else but herself,” Belith said with an air of authority.

  “You’ve been here how long, and you’re such an expert how?” Kal wanted to cringe at her rude question but what was done was done.

  Belith gave Kal a long look, eyes narrowing.

  Kal swallowed, suddenly nervous. Fremmians weren’t violent, short-tempered barbarians. That was an ugly old stereotype. She knew better. Yet Belith’s assessing gaze worried her. Did she misspeak? Inadvertently insult her?

  Bollocks. She questioned the veracity of Belith’s statement, which any Fremmian would interpret as basically being called a liar.

  Fuck. How did everything go pear-shaped so quickly?

  “You have a spine of steel to question the truth of a Fremm you barely know. Or you wish to incite violence. I’m questioning my mate’s belief that humans are good survivors.”

  “I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

  Belith laughed, bright and joyous. Kal sighed in relief.

  “You’ll do just fine here,” Belith said. She glanced at the fabric in Kal’s hands, as if seeing it for the first time. “Do you intend to use the wrap in town or out?”

  Kal fiddled with the soft fabric. “Um, I’m not sure. Merit’s vehicle doesn’t have a windscreen.”

  “The weave on that fabric is too loose. You’ll want one coated with wax.” Belith handed her a heavier wrap, the deep teal fabric of which flowed through her fingers like water.

  By the time Kal took her selection to the counter to finish her purchase, Merit returned. Tall, he had a commanding air that stood apart from the others. Perhaps it was the morning light creating a dramatic backdrop or the crisp edge of his uniform turning her normally rational mind to sentimentality. He searched the crowd, and his eyes lit up with delight when he found her.

  She forgot the sharp, hurtful gossip from Amity and Serene. This handsome specimen of masculinity was her man.

  “Forgive my tardiness. I walked home to retrieve the vehicle.” He bent down and placed a kiss on her cheek.

  Kal warmed from the touch. “Did your shipment arrive?”

  “Half the order arrived.” His tail flicked in irritation. “Half! How do they expect me to maintain an operational fleet without the correct supplies? At this rate, it’d be faster to drive to the Safe Zone warehouse and haul the parts back myself.” Despite the grumble in his voice, he grinned.

  Sigald arrived, clapping Merit on the back. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile, friend.”

  “I haven’t had a reason in a long while.”

  Done. That did her in. Kal was smitten.

  Merit

  In the windshield-less vehicle, he gave Kal a tour of the town. Drac wasn’t much to look at. The small population had either a direct or secondary connection to the mine. His own position as Hunter was to support the mine and community. Without the mine, the government had no interest in controlling the mornclaw population. The ore, however, that came out of the mine fueled the Corra export economy, and that gave the government every incentive to stay on top of the mornclaws.

  Metal container buildings slid by. Built on a grid with a green town square at the center, Drac laid itself out in an orderly manner. Occasionally a traditional Corravian earth-berm house mixed in. He enjoyed the grass-covered, half-buried structures with their round roofs and sloping curves. Originally, when the Province poured credit into Drac, the modular buildings were meant to be temporary. Twenty-five years later, the oldest of the units showed their age. Built for use on colonial planets, the modular units could last a century with proper maintenance. The harsh environment on Corra drastically shortened their lifespans.

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