Pet Noir (2 page)

“You'll live.”

She straightened up and talked some more with Chief Wright, mostly about stuff I didn't understand. I was beginning to realize I'd been had.

“Hey, what about the flying?” I yelled. “You promised!”

“On our way in just a second, Leon,” said Chief Wright.

“Thumbprint here,” said Jill. “Great. He's all yours.”

“What if—?”

“This disc contains his entire record, all stats, licenses and permits, feeding and care instructions, and a recommended reading list for him. He's fond of Kipling, especially the
Just So Stories
. Call me if you have questions.”

“Okay, ah—thanks.”

Jill's face appeared in front of the wire door, smiling for once. She poked a finger through the mesh to tickle my ear. “Bye, Leon. Have fun, and good luck.”

“Okay. How about some tuna when I get back?”

She crinkled up her nose in a funny way. I hadn't seen her do that before. She backed up, then the carrier moved and I scrabbled for balance.

It was a little like flying, I guess, riding in the carrier. I hadn't been carried around in a box before. In the lab Jill just picked me up when she wanted to move me around. Then I'd usually run right back to where I'd been, or go under something where she couldn't reach me. It was an okay game.

This was not so fun. The view I had through the wire door was limited, but even that was kind of too much. We left the lab, which was a little hard for me to understand. I mean I knew there was a whole universe out there, with elephants and things, but I'd only seen it on the com screen and the holopad. I didn't realize everything was
big
.

Outside the lab there was noise and color and weird smells everywhere. I recognized the fried food smell of Zip Fix, one of Jill's favorite kiosks.

“Hey, can we get some popcorn shrimp?” I asked.

“Maybe later.”

Chief Wright carried me through a busy corridor into the heart of the Astara complex and took a tube from there to the shuttle station. He put my box on the seat next to his. My view: the seat in front of us. Boring.

“Hey,” I said. “How about turning the box so I can see you?”

“Oh, sorry, Leon. That better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

I could just see his face if I pressed up against the wire. He watched me, looking kind of wary.

“So what's this Gamma Station?”

“It's a transportation hub out near Cygsee Four. It's where I live and work.”

“Sounds boring.”

“No, it's a nice place. You'll like it.”

“Cygsee Four. That's Cygnius 61 C IV, right?”

“Yes.”

“That's in the middle of nowhere.”

“Nowhere's a relative term, Leon. It's got a lot to offer. Better than living in a lab.”

“Got elephants?”

“Well, no. But there's a nice park. You can run on the green grass.”

“Yeah? That sounds okay. I've never seen real grass, just on the holo.”

The tube glided to a stop. The chief reached to pick up my box, then paused and bent his face down close to mine. “Oh, Leon—just one thing. I don't want people on Gamma to know you're modified, so once we get there no talking except when it's just you and me in private, okay?”

“What, are you ashamed to be seen talking to a cat?”

“No, no, no. That's not it at all?”

“Because you can just turn around and take me back to the lab right now if that's your hangup, buddy!”

“Leon, I've got a very important job for you on Gamma. Very secret. You'll be doing undercover work. Do you know what that means?”

“Like on
Stella the Stellar Investigator?
”

“Uh, yeah, kind of. Without the speeder.”

“Cool! Do I get a gun?”

“Ah—we'll have to see about that. Might be too much of a tip-off.”

“Oh, right.”

I was momentarily disappointed, but the secret undercover work sounded fun. I was beginning to look forward to Gamma Station.

“Jill let you watch the entertainment feeds a lot, eh?”

“She says it's good for my cultural acclimatization.”

Whatever that was. I was never quite sure what Jill meant by it.

The chief picked up my carrier and walked out into the noisy chaos of the shuttle terminal. I had never heard so much sound from so many different sources at once before. Voices everywhere, all kinds of voices. Men and women and shrieky beasts that I found out later were called kids. Loudspeaker announcements, and music, and several news and entertainment feed tracks all at once.

Smells like I'd never smelled, too, even on the holo. It was too much. I curled up with my face away from the door.

It got a lot quieter when we boarded the shuttle. The chief set my carrier on the floor and pushed it under his seat. Relieved to be on solid ground again, I got up and scratched at the door.

“Hey, chief. Could you put me somewhere else? Not much of a view down here.”

“Sorry, Leon,” he said in a low voice. “You've got to be under the seat during takeoff.”

“There's a lot of weird smells down here.”

“I'm sorry about that. As soon as it's okay I'll bring you up here.”

“Modified kitty?” asked a cheery woman's voice. “I need to see her travel permit, please.”

“His!” I yelled. “Can't you tell a male from a female?”

“She can't see you, Leon.”

“She can smell me, can't she?”

“Don't mind him,” the chief said. “It's his first trip. Here, I've got the permit right here.”

There were some shuffling noises from above as the chief dug in the carryall Jill had given him, then the woman thanked him and moved on without another word to me. The chief bent down to murmur to me.

“Humans can't smell as well as you, Leon. Didn't Jill tell you that?”

“Yeah, but geez. Can't tell male from female? That's pathetic.”

“We're different in a lot of ways, Leon.”

He sat up again, ending the discussion. I sniffed at the back of his shoes through the cage door for a while until that got boring, then decided to take a nap. I turned around a couple of times, made a token attempt at kneading the fiberfoam box, then curled up for some shut-eye.

I was jolted from a comfortable sleep by the sound of the world ending. My box was shaking, a roaring filled my ears, and the lights in the shuttle cabin flickered. I yowled.

“It's okay, Leon,” said the chief over the noise. “We're just taking off.”

“No, it is not okay!” I yelled back, but he ignored me.

The roar of the engines doubled. The shuttle was vibrating, making my claws clatter against the fiberfoam. My muscles tensed so hard they started to ache, and my stomach was churning.

“Lemme out!” I yelled.

“Can't do that, Leon. I'm sorry.”

“I need out!”

“Just hold tight till we get to the depot. We've got a layover there, you can get out and walk around a little.”

“I need out
now!
”

The shaking increased, then my stomach tried to drop out of me to the floor. The chief said something but I couldn't hear it as the roar got impossibly louder.

“Lemmeeeeooooooooooowwt!”

It was too late. I puked all over the inside of the carrier. I don't think it hit the chief's shoes. Too bad, but I wasn't really in any condition to take aim.

The noise and the shaking decreased after a minute. I stood trembling in a pool of my own half-digested breakfast.

“You okay, Leon?” the chief asked doubtfully.

There are some things humans can actually smell. I have no doubt he knew what had happened, he was just playing dumb.

“Leave me alone,” I moaned. “I want to die in peace.”

“You're not dying.”

“Says you.”

“Sorry about the rough takeoff. It's difficult getting out of the gravity well. Things should go smoother from here on out.”

I retreated to the back corner of the carrier, trying to get away from the puke. My tail had dragged in it, and my paws were wet. I was Not Happy.

“Leon?”

I was in no mood to carry on a conversation. I ignored him, and by doing so accidentally discovered something of which I would make fuller use in the future: Chief Wright was concerned about my well-being. Concerned to the tune of several million credits, though I didn't find that out until later.

“Leon, are you all right?”

There was a note of anxiety in his voice now. Interesting. I waited, listening.

“Leon?”

I continued the silent treatment. A moment later his hand reached down and pulled the carrier forward. I braced myself as it was picked up and rotated.

“Leon, are—oh, agh! Ugh!”

“I would like to get out of this puke-box,” I said with dignity.

“Yeah. Just a minute.”

He called a flight attendant over and they talked for a while. I was too miserable to pay much attention. The puke had slopped around in the box until it pretty much covered the whole floor.

The chief got out of his seat and carried me to the lavatory, where with the aid of several barf bags and a lot of paper towels he got both me and the carrier pretty much cleaned up. A lingering smell and my bad mood were all that remained of the incident.

“Good thing we didn't get the popcorn shrimp, eh, Leon?”

“Ha ha.”

“Sorry. You want some water?”

I thought about it. My stomach was still a little unsettled, but it would be nice to get the puke taste out of my mouth.

“Yeah.”

He put some water in a paper cup and set it down next to me on the toilet seat. I lapped it down and felt better.

“Okay, back in the carrier.”

“No.”

The chief sighed. “Leon, if it was up to me I'd let you stay out, but it isn't. You've got to be in the carrier, or we can't leave the lavatory.”

“Fine.”

“So get in.”

“No, we can stay in the lavatory.”

“Leon!” He frowned, twisting around to glance at the door. “There's no room in here!”

“Now you know what it feels like.” I hopped onto the sink and looked at the water droplets vibrating in the bowl. “Plenty of room for me,” I added. “Much nicer than the puke-box.”

“Leon, there are other people who want to use the lavatory.”

“They can wait.”

“And we have to be in our seats for docking at the depot!”

I was thinking about the contradiction of these two arguments when a “bong” over the loudspeaker preceded the flight attendant's cheery voice announcing we were approaching Orion Depot. As soon as the announcement ended there was a rapping at the door.

“You all right in there? I'm afraid you have to get back to your seat.”

“Fine,” called Chief Wright. “Just finishing up.”

He picked up the carrier, rotated it to face me, and held the door open. “In,” he said.

I tilted my head. “I dunno.”

“In, Leon.”

“What can you do to make it worth my while?”

I was thinking maybe to get a commitment about the popcorn shrimp. I hadn't bargained on his losing patience with me. He grabbed me by the ruff and stuffed me in the box, tail first.

“Hey!”

I heard the click of the magnetic lock, and looked out in time to see him pocketing the key disc. I hissed.

“Sorry, Leon. Sometimes we don't get what we want.”

He carried me back to his seat and shoved me underneath there again. I was furious.

“I'm going to be sick,” I announced.

“I'm sorry to hear that, Leon,” he said. “Nothing I can do about it now. At least all you have in your stomach is water.”

Actually, I felt fine, except for being pissed off. When Jill made me mad I would shred something she liked, but there was nothing within reach now. The wire mesh of the door was too small for me to get a paw through, otherwise I'd have gone to town on the back of the chief's heels.

Fortunately, it wasn't long until the shuttle docked, gently as you please. I felt fine except for a certain weird buoyancy, the effect of lower gravity, about a third of a gee. My fur fluffed out a bit. The chief slid my box out again and carried me out into the depot.

Noise, smells, flashing lights and colors. The same as the shuttle terminal only more so, and somehow a little less hectic. Everyone was still busy, but they were busy at a more relaxed pace. Don't know why, but all space-dwellers are that way. Even where there's full artificial gravity, there's less of that gravity-well rush-rush attitude.

Orion depot is the main spaceport for the entire Sabana system. It's a big, old-fashioned wheel, with the docking terminals on the hub and the living quarters and business zone out on the rim. The chief took me out there and rented us an observation cubicle for the couple of hours until our scheduled flight to Gamma. He locked us in and let me out of the box. I checked all the corners of the room, then stretched and began grooming my coat, which was pretty rumpled and had a lingering taste of lavatory soap and puke.

“You're welcome,” he said, and dialed the observation wall to clear. Stars wheeled slowly by, and the navigation lights of ships zipped in and out like clumps of colored meteors. It was pretty enough to make me pause for a moment.

“What's that big white thing?” I asked.

“That's Sabana 6. Where we just came from.”

I swallowed, feeling insecure all of a sudden. “Looks kinda small.”

“It's a big universe, Leon. Even just our galaxy is so big it's hard to imagine.”

“Wow.” I gazed at the wonders of space for a moment, then turned to the chief. “I'm starving. How about those popcorn shrimp?”

“I think we better wait on those. Maybe after we get to Gamma. Jill gave me some kibble and some chewy snacks for you.”