“Yes, yes. That’s all fine,” said Marroo.
“So you agree to the extra expense?” the doctor asked.
Pweet could hear the surprise in the doctor’s telepathic voice.
“Of course I do,” said Marroo. “I’m not concerned about the cost at a time like this.”
“What are you concerned about then?” asked the doctor. “You aren’t acting like yourself at all. Perhaps you would like to undergo a psychiatric evaluation while you’re here?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m just concerned about getting this genetic alteration done,” Marroo answered.
The doctor was silent after that. Pweet walked steadily behind the two aliens, but she was shaking inside.
I think this is the most scared I’ve been in my entire life, she thought.
She tried hard to think positive, but the only thing she could come up with wasn’t that positive. At least I’ll be unconscious soon, she thought as the three of them entered a bare, utilitarian surgery room.
Chapter 21
Inside the Jalapeno, Murrie and the crew had watched on a view screen when Pweet entered the surgery room with the two Woogah men. And Murrie had been listening to their telepathic conversation before that.
Two men had spoke so casually about the invasive and life-altering procedure the doctor was soon to perform on Pweet. Murrie couldn’t stop himself from growling and hissing.
“What? What is it? What are they saying,” M. Mort asked him.
Lieutenant Sosha floated over near M. Mort.
“Let him listen, then he’ll tell us,” she said in a low telepathic voice.
Murrie ignored both of them. He was too busy listening to the mental conversation inside the medical building.
Then Marroo spoke out loud to Pweet. The ship’s surveillance equipment picked up the audible conversation and broadcast it.
“Here we are, Pweet,” said Marroo. “You’re finally getting the wonderful procedure we talked about so much. Are you excited?”
“I guess,” Pweet answered in a flat voice.
The doctor pulled a small electronic device out of his pocket. He held it between himself and Pweet, then talked into it.
“Hello Pweet, I’m Doctor Chiiz. Is it correct that I have your permission to perform this genetic alteration procedure?”
He held the device close to Pweet’s face, waiting for her answer.
“Yes, you have my permission,” she said.
“Wonderful,” said the doctor. “That’s all I need.”
He walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a folded garment, then carried it over and handed it to Pweet.
“Will you please change into this gown and sit up on the table? Marroo and I will go out of the room. We’ll return in a few minutes,” said the doctor.
Murrie heard Marroo speaking telepathically to Doctor Chiiz.
“I’ve never had to leave the room before,” he protested.
“Well, you’ve never brought me a female who wasn’t in a deep, mindless trance either,” the doctor answered. “Come along now.”
He gestured Marroo toward the door and then followed him out of the room.
“Turn off that visual,” said Captain Kamphone, but Lieutenant XoXo had already done it before he finished giving the telepathic order.
“Switch visual out into the hallway. Then switch it back when they go back inside,” said the captain.
The crew sat waiting and watching the Woogah men in silence, but Murrie wasn’t waiting. He was listening to the telepathic conversation of the two Woogahs out in the hallway.
“So tell me, Marroo. What’s really going on here?” the doctor asked. “I’ve known you for a long time, and I know there’s something very abnormal about this whole situation. You have never, ever brought me a woman who wasn’t in a hypnotic trance. And your own behavior is just weird. You’re not acting like yourself at all. Can you explain this to me? I’m about to perform a delicate, invasive procedure, and I think I should have all the facts.”
“Doctor,” Marroo answered, “as I said before, there’s nothing about this woman that you need to worry about. And you don’t need to worry about me either.”
“Well, I was just wondering if you might have been affected by so much time in warp space or spending time in cold storage. Those two things have been known to affect the minds and bodies of long-time spacers,” said the doctor. “Although usually I see it in people a lot older than you. How old are you again?”
“No doctor. It’s not that,” Marroo insisted. “The problem is the scarcity of telepathic females in the known and nearby solar systems. Those cursed Verdante ‘heroes’ and other bothersome species have been flying around the galaxy warning everyone about us. Now wherever we go, they hide their females and scorn us. Drive us away.”
“Yes. I’ve noticed the drop in business from you hunters in the past years,” said the doctor.
“That’s right,” said Marroo. “Most of my coworkers have lit out to the far reaches of unknown space, but I found a closer source—Earth. And that’s why I brought this female here. The Earthlings are weak telepaths, but they’re becoming telepathic, so this will work. Now, does that put your mind at rest?”
“I suppose it does,” the doctor answered. “But remember, I need to be paid in advance, and there will be no refund if the procedure doesn’t work.”
Doctor Chiiz reached into a pocket and pulled out another device. He tapped it for a few moments. Then he held it out toward Marroo.
“Please press your thumbprint here to accept the charges,” he said.
Marroo barely looked at the screen. He reached out a dark blue hand and firmly pressed the palm of his thumb down on the device.
“There you are, doctor,” said Marroo. “Now can we go back in and get this procedure done? I know it takes a few weeks. The sooner you get started, the sooner it will be done.”
“Yes, yes,” the doctor answered. “Such impatience! As I said before, that’s not your normal behavior. But you say you’re fine, everything’s fine, so I’ll just take your word for it.”
The two aliens walked back in, and Lieutenant XoXo switched her view screen to show the room again.
When the room Pweet was in showed up on the screen again, M. Mort saw Pweet sitting on the bare metal table in the center of the room. The two aliens approached her.
“Are you ready to start?” the doctor asked her.
“Yes, I’m ready,” said Pweet.
“You may leave now,” said the doctor to Marroo out loud.
“Oh,” said Marroo. “You don’t need me to stay any longer?”
It wasn’t clear if he was talking to the doctor or to Pweet, but the doctor answered him.
“No, I don’t. You’ll just be in the way.”
“Very well, then,” said Marroo. “I’ll go.”
He walked closer to Pweet and spoke to her. “I’ll be back to get you when your procedure is done.”
Marroo leaned closer, almost as if expecting Pweet to touch him, but she didn’t.”
“Bye. I’ll see you then,” she said.
Then the older blue man gestured for Marroo to leave. Marroo turned without speaking again and walked to the door. Then he turned around to look at Pweet once more. She looked at him but didn’t say anything.
As soon as Marroo was gone, the doctor spoke to Pweet.
“Now then, young female, I’m curious about why you want to have this procedure. In most cases, it’s not really the patient’s choice. I don’t usually ask people because they’re not in a state to answer.”
M. Mort and everyone else on the Jalapeno were curious about that too. They leaned forward waiting for her answer. And Murrie hovered in the air near the view screen.
“Well,” said Pweet. “Won’t this procedure make me stronger and live longer? And won’t it make me a stronger telepath?”
“Yes, that’s true,” Doctor Chiiz answered. “But it’s also a dramatic alteration to your natural g
enetic structure. The genes of three alien species will be added to your own—one plant, one insect, and one humanoid species. You will no longer be the person you are now. Most people would at least hesitate before undergoing such a transition.”
“I did hesitate at first when Marroo told me about it,” said Pweet. “But then I decided that I needed it. I think I need to be physically stronger and have strong telepathic powers. So that’s why I want to get this genetic alternation even though it’s scary and not something I thought I would ever do.”
“Very well, then,” said the doctor. “I suppose that’s a good enough reason. If you will lay down on the table, we can begin. I’m going to give you an injection now so you’ll be unconscious. You’ll miss all of the needles and things, and when you wake up in two weeks, it will all be over and done.”
“OK. I’m ready,” said Pweet.
M. Mort and the others watched her lay down on the table. The doctor injected something into her arm, and her eyes closed. Then he got more needles and tubes and got to work.
“So that’s why,” said Captain Kamphone telepathically to the others watching in the Jalapeno. “It sounds like she knows she’s in a bad situation, and she’s trying to do something about it. That’s a good sign. It means she’s not under the hypnotic spell of that guy, or his love trance, or whatever.”
“But it’s terrible that she thinks she has to do this,” said M. Mort.
Guilt was eating at him again. Murrie floated over to him and sat on his shoulder.
“It’s cause she doesn’t know I’m on the way to rescue her,” said Murrie. “I tried to tell her, but humanoids don’t always listen to a cat talking in their head. They think they’re imagining things.”
“That’s OK, Murrie,” said Lieutenant Sosha. “She’ll be changed, but she won’t be harmed by this. And we’ll rescue her as soon as we can.”
“Private Murrie, did you forget your promise to follow orders and no heroics?” the captain asked.
“No sir! Yes sir, captain!” said Murrie.
“That’s good…I think,” said Kamphone. “Now, there’s not going to be much to see in there for about two more weeks, but we’ll still keep watch on shifts. Lieutenant Dweeemm, can you take the first one?”
“Yes, captain,” the younger male lieutenant answered.
“I suggest the rest of you go get some sleep while you can. We’ve all been up for a long time, and we need to stay sharp.”
All of a sudden, M. Mort felt very tired. He unstrapped from his chair and floated up in the air a bit in the zero g. He noticed Murrie starting to float off his shoulder. The small cat was already asleep! M. Mort caught hold of Murrie and put him in his pocket. It was getting to be a tight fit.
Everyone’s changing but me, thought M. Mort.
He floated out the door of the bridge and down the hallway to the small quarters that he shared with Murrie.
M. Mort strapped himself down on the bed so he wouldn’t float away while he was sleeping. He was exhausted, but his mind was awake and thinking about Pweet.
I know Murrie will still be my buddy when he gets big, but what about Pweet? M. Mort wondered. She must be really mad at me. Does she hate me? Will she blame me for having to get her genes altered?
The little cat in his pocket made a big sigh noise in his sleep. He twitched his legs and tail around as if he was trying to get comfortable in the restrictive space.
When I wake up, I’ll make some kind of bed for him too, M. Mort decided.
The lights in the cabin dimmed. But it wasn’t time for artificial ship night.
Someone really wants me to go to sleep now, thought M. Mort.
Then he dropped into a long, deep and dreamless sleep.
Chapter 22
Almost two weeks later, the Verdante space ship Integer carrying Antaska, Potat, M. Hoyvil, and Wawuul arrived at Nestgorm’s work plant. The ship was cloaked in stealth mode, and M. Hoyvil set it to hover a few feet above the ground just outside the plant’s force field. The big liner didn’t have gravity now because it’s artificial gravity couldn’t be used in hover mode.
Potat floated up off the counter she’d been standing on near M. Hoyvil. She hadn’t forgiven Antaska for bringing Wawuul home, and she was still giving her the silent treatment. Antaska was pretending not to notice, but Potat knew she noticed.
Potat could sense Antaska’s hurt feelings. And no matter how much Wawuul tried to make Antaska feel better by sticking to her side like a barnacle, he couldn’t erase those feelings. That was the lesson Potat wanted Antaska to learn, and she was learning it. She needed to learn it for a while more, and then maybe Potat would forgive her. Maybe.
M. Hoyvil sat strapped in his chair in front of the ship’s command console. Potat flew to the top of his shoulder and dug her claws into his jacket so she could perch there without floating away. He reached out a big hand and scratched her behind the ears.
When they were all settled, M. Hoyvil pulled up the outside visuals on the ship’s view screens. The two humanoids gasped telepathically.
“What’s that?” said Antaska.
She floated in zero g near a big screen that showed the courtyard in front of the plant. Wawuul floated near Antaska.
Right next to Antaska as usual, thought Potat. Why is that big cat so clingy?
“That’s a Verdante ship!” said M. Hoyvil. “That ship is familiar. That’s Master Meeepp’s ship!”
M. Hoyvil’s answer drew Potat’s attention to the screen that showed the work plant’s exterior.
There, in the courtyard that had been full of alien females and Nestgorm the last time Potat had seen it, sat a round Verdante space shuttle. It was much smaller than the big liner they were in, fully visible, and parked on the ground.
“Why in the world would that be there?” asked Antaska. “It’s in violation of galactic law. Unless it’s there by invitation, of course.”
“No. Nestgorm would never invite Master Meeepp here,” said M. Hoyvil. “And I can’t imagine him coming here. I begged him to bring me here to rescue you when you were kidnapped, and he absolutely refused. He wouldn’t let me borrow his ship either. Do you think he changed his mind?”
“I don’t know,” said Antaska. “But if he did, would he just fly through the detection field and park in the middle of the courtyard in plain sight? He’d know that would be a crime.”
“No, you’re right. He’d never do that,” M. Hoyvil answered. “Do you think he came here, and then he was captured? We need to see inside that ship.”
M. Hoyvil’s six-fingered hands flew across the controls in front of him. His motions shook Potat around on his shoulder. She let go and hovered in the air close by him. Alien symbols appeared on the monitor just above the controls. Potat could have read the symbols, but she wasn’t interested.
More symbols flooded the screen, and M. Hoyvil muttered telepathically. Finally, he stopped his efforts and flopped back in his chair.
“This ship doesn’t have the surveillance capabilities that the Jalapeno did. It has invisible cloaking, and it can detect the plant’s force field and read what it does, but it won’t give me a view inside the buildings or even audio,” M. Hoyvil complained.
Potat spoke up telepathically. “Master Meeepp wouldn’t come here. I was there when we asked him, remember? Rescuing a human was not on his agenda. I don’t think he came here, and I don’t think he’s in that ship. I’m not sensing anyone in it.”
M. Hoyvil turned to her. “Wow! You can tell that? That’s great. Oh, now I remember, you were able to hear people talking telepathically from far away. That will be a big help this time, especially since all we have is this tourist ship.”
Potat smiled a tiny cat smile and lifted a paw to wash it. But her pleasure at being appreciated didn’t last. The big oaf cat Wawuul had to show off too.
He telepathically projected a vision of the outside of the small space ship. Then the vision moved closer to the ship, queasily through its walls, an
d then inside it. He scanned through the ship’s hallways and from room to room, and then finally into the storage hold. There were some unidentified objects cluttering the ship, but it was empty of occupants.
“This is great! I guess we can see inside after all,” said M. Hoyvil. “Thanks Wawuul.”
Potat could tell he was tempering his praise of Wawuul so she wouldn’t be offended, but M. Hoyvil wasn’t the person she was mad at right now. Antaska wisely didn’t say anything.
“With the help of these two cats, we should be able to check everything out even without the Jalapeno’s high-tech equipment,” said M. Hoyvil to Antaska.
“Yes. We’re lucky to have these cats along,” said Antaska.
“Humph!” said Potat telepathically.
She looked over at Wawuul. He smiled at her. His strange smile that looked so humanoid. Potat twisted around in zero g to turn her back on him.
“So I think if we all work together, we can figure out what’s going on here. Then maybe we can rescue some of those alien women. If they want to be rescued this time,” said M. Hoyvil. “Does everyone agree?”
He said “everyone,” but he looked at Potat and waited for her answer.
“Fine. I agree. I’ll cooperate,” said Potat mentally. “But I’m just doing it for those females. Ungrateful though they might be. Like some other females I know.”
“Thank you, kitty,” said Antaska.
She’s shamelessly using her pet name for me, thought Potat. But that’s not going to get her anywhere. I’ll forgive her when I’m good and ready. And I’m not ready yet.
Again, Potat ignored Antaska and didn’t answer her. She floated over to M. Hoyvil’s pocket and climbed in.
Antaska sighed. Will Potat ever forgive me for bringing Wawuul home? she wondered for the thousandth time.
Bonded in Space Page 12
