The Human Pet: A Sci-Fi Romance

Part 44

Kayla

Tarak and I have been working together on most afternoons to get the Firefly ready. Tarak calls it a piece of junk, so he tinkers with the engine. I evaluate Firefly's lab. To be honest, this ship already exceeds the capabilities of my former ship, the Phoenix Borealis, but I still spend time in the lab, taking inventory and familiarizing myself with all the wonderful tools. I cannot wait until we voyage, even though Tarak tells me we won't be able to go for another few weeks at best.

Today, though, Tarak escorts me and leaves me in Rigel's for my required pet wellness check. Rigel has not arrived yet, so I grab a pillow and lay across the comfy couch.

Rigel arrives only minutes later and displays a checklist on his wall unit.

After answering all the questions on the checklist, Rigel asks, "Have you communicated your boundaries and limitations with Tarak?"

This might be a required meeting, but I feel like I am catching up with an old friend, even though he looks like an angel. So, for old times' sake, I shake my bell. "Yes."

"And he respects them?"

"Always. He is a very respectful scourge."

"That's great. I'm going to report this case closed and just so you know, the original strikes filed against you were removed from your record. Maybe someone in Hydra recognizes the work you have done, even if you did not accept the invitation to join the elite pet team. So, we are done here. You do not need to meet with me anymore."

Rigel does something that I never see the scourges do. He extends his hand, just like a human. I can't resist, shaking his hand three or four times.

The corners of Rigel's eyes crinkle. "I'd be honored to consider you my friend... and Tarak, too."

I'm honored that he considers me a friend but even the idea of Rigel and him being friends makes me burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" says Rigel.

"It's just hard to envision you and Tarak as friends."

Rigel's cheeks redden. "You don't think Tarak would consider me a friend?"

It's funny, I never would have considered Rigel much of a blusher—if I used Earth standards, he looks like a man in his 30s, so probably beyond adolescent years. I find Rigel's open display of emotions endearing.

"He probably does," I say. "It will take him a very long time to admit that to himself, though, and to also admit that out loud and with witnesses, maybe a lifetime?"

We both laugh.

"I do mean it and if you ever need anything from me, do not hesitate to ask."

A favor? This is my chance.

My old habit of using the computer to monitor what happens to humans aboard the Hydra has not stopped. In fact, I have made more programs to monitor any chatter about humans. Ava's name has come up frequently with her doctors reporting that she is often stressed, scared, and anxious. Ava needs all the help she can get.

"Anything?"

Rigel looks so earnest. "Yes, as your friend, I will always do my best to help you. Just ask."

"Can I see Ava?"

Rigel does not even hesitate. He clips my leash to my collar and off we go.

***

Ava is wailing.

The clinicians are acting as if this is normal and humans in distress are just an everyday common occurrence.