The Human Pet: A Sci-Fi Romance

Part 10

Tarak

My little human seemed to be adapting so well. We had played together, with her being comfortable enough to mimic and even poke me. Except she has suddenly started shaking... From what I've perused so far from Your Human and You, shaking can be an indication that she's too cold.

My poor human! I grab a blanket and try to wrap her, but she refuses the blanket. I must keep her warm, so I hug her, giving her body heat and spreading my hands over places where a predator might attack. She twitches, but she is not shaking as much as before, so I keep petting her.

She leans into me, her eyes closing.

Since she's finally asleep, I return to studying the text of Your Human and You. When I get to the section about feeding, it's only then that I remember what the vet told me; I need to feed her several times a day, which means I should encourage her to try to at least nibble on something soon.

I gently move her onto the chair cushion so that she can sleep while I go find food for her.

Like most scourges, I prefer to eat my food when it's still alive, but that's not an option in a starship. I must make do like other scourges and eat frozen food. Fortunately for my pet, I have a few of my extra frozen treats in my wall's refrigerated storage unit. I pull one out and put it into the food warmer.

My wall unit chimes. "Snack sufficiently warmed to room temperature."

I inspect it to make sure that it is good enough for my pet. Alright, I admit the snack doesn't move, but it has other appetizing characteristics; it has fur, a tail, and eyes, although I wish the eyes would move (the snack would be even yummier).

She's still sleeping, so I call her in a quiet voice.

"Kata."

She stretches and mumbles.

I tap her bowl a few times, too. "Kata."

Her eyelids flutter open, but she stays on the chair, making no move toward the bowl.

I start to feel jittery. Deep inside me, there's a sensation growing stronger, and it takes me a moment to recognize what it is. My pet must be kept healthy and well, so when she doesn't come to the bowl to eat, it makes me queasy. I need my pet to eat.

I reassess the snack. My pet probably sees what I do; this snack could be presented better. I pop the frozen delicacy back into the food warmer.

"Intermediate heat," I tell the wall unit.

When the wall chimes, I re-open the food warmer and assess the state of her treat—the eyes are now fully engorged and plump— that snack looks so delicious and lifelike that I'm drooling.

I shake it by its tail and call my pet.

Why isn't she coming? I glance toward the chair where she'd been relaxing only a moment ago and...

Where is she? There are few places to go inside my quarters, so I leave her delicious-looking treat in her bowl while I go search for her. I start by poking my head into my room with the water pool. Since the water is relatively clear, it's easy to see that she's not swimming, so I return to the main room. There is only one place that she could feasibly fit, which is underneath the bed.

I lift the bed, and she scrambles across the room. I chase her and bring her back to her food bowl.

"Pet, it's mealtime. Look at what I made for you..." I dangle the treat in front of her, hoping that she will devour her meal like a normal pet.

She pulls away from me, making more of her strange vocalizations. "No, no, no, no, please no."

I sigh. I lift the snack up for her, shaking it by its tail. Surely the plump engorged eyes of this snack will stimulate her hunting reflexes.