Wet Cement 2

    Grenkle started moving again, wrapping his other hand around her shoulders as he gently guided her along. She felt blank, and she couldn’t tell if she was just unable to come to grips with what had just happened, or if she was handling it far better than she expected herself to.

    Even so, part of her seemed to be extremely alert, as if her mind were overloaded, and was content to simply record everything in it’s new surroundings and sort it all out later. There was nothing interesting about the hall what-so-ever, yet she was drinking it in. The floor was a featureless, medium grey. At one time it had been polished, as it was still shiny near the wall, but the center was coated in scuffs giving Rika the impression that it was an area of high traffic.

    The walls were a light grey and made up of smooth, lighter-grey featureless panels about three and a half feet wide that stretched from a low kick plate trim about seven feet up to where they met the ceiling.

    There were no light fixtures in the hall (nor anywhere else in the ship as she would find, except for reading lamps in the berthing). Instead the ceiling glowed an even off-white, giving an even illumination to everything. They passed an occasional door, which always looked foreboding. Recessed several inches into the wall, they had a dark grey color and a heavy appearance, like they guarded a cell or dangerous equipment.

    Grenkle passed another intersection with alien symbols painted on the corners, then turned down another hallway, stopping at the first door. He got her attention by giving her hand a squeeze, then motioned to his eyes and pointed to himself to indicate “watch me”. There were a series of four colored buttons over a covered keypad. The first was green, and round. The second was blue and triangular. The third was an eight pointed star and yellow, while the last was red and square. There was a heavy metal handle attached to the door, but he pressed a few buttons on the keypad next to the door.

    He jabbed the square button, and the door made a loud “clack”. Grenkle grabbed the handle and slid the door to the side, revealing a very small, plain, grey room in the same style as the hallway. There was a small bunk bed built into the wall off to the right. Half open over each bunk was what appeared to be a sliding clear “garage door”. Directly in front of her were a pair of low dressers, which what looked like latching handles on either side of the drawer. Above them was something  that looked possibly like a weapon’s rack. She managed only a peek, then he slid the door closed again and pressed the red square button again. There was another “clack” and he tugged on the door. It didn’t move. He pressed the green circle next, and the door slid open on it’s own with a hiss. Another press closed the door. The blue triangle would open and close the door a crack but no more; enough for ventilation or to see who was knocking, she guessed. The yellow star turned out to be a lock. Grenkle had to use the key pad after pressing it to open the door again. He pointed at the star-shaped button and motioned at his throat with the other hand.

    “Don’t touch it,” she nodded, “got it.”

    He stepped to the side and held his hand under the control panel, as if displaying it for a commercial. Rika took it as an invitation to work it herself, so she did, experimenting a few times before curiosity got a hold of her as she wondered what the rest of the room inside looked like. She jabbed the green circle and the door hissed open in response.

    Torn between curiosity and fear, she cautiously stepped foot into the room, half expecting to door to slam shut and lock behind her. Instead, Grenkle followed her in, quietly standing to the side while she opened drawers and poked at the mattress. The room wasn’t much more than she had noticed before. There was a very plain and boring looking desk with a pair of drawers down one side that matched the style on the dresser. An identical control pad for the door was mounted on the wall just inside the door way. She moved around the room, eventually she fingered the rack above the dresser.

    “What’s this for?” she asked, not really thinking.

    His strange growl of a language came from behind her, causing her to turn. He stood with his arms out, gripping something invisible in front of him in a gesture that made it clear he was holding a rifle.

    “Aah..” replied Rika, her suspicion confirmed. She moved back to the bunk bed, tugging on the clear door that slid loosely on it’s track. The bed wasn’t very big. Though longer than normal human beds by about a foot and a half it was only about two and a half feet deep and maybe two feet high, at most. The mattress had a battered looking pillow and was made with brown sheets and a thin blue blanket pulled tightly over the top.

    Grenkle waved his arm and pointed to a control pad that looked similar to the one on either side of the door. There was no keypad on this one though, and it had an extra few buttons. Grenkle climbed onto the bed and showed her how to open and close the door, latch it closed, crack it open, and turn the clear door opaque and back again. On the console he showed her how she could also turn on the light for the bunk bay, and operate the warm/cool air that could flow through vents around the top. She forced an uneasy smile. It was cozy, but she liked it. For some reasons she felt it necessary to show the alien her approval.

    Grenkle suddenly swung his legs out from the bunk and stood up. He touched her book and motioned to her bed, speaking something that sounded like a chicken bone in the garbage disposal. She set the book down, and for the first time noticed the cover. It was Greg Howell’s “Human Memoirs”, a novel she had written on her birthday wish list before she was arrested.

    She looked at Grenkle again, who was waiting in the doorway. He beckoned her to him and spoke again.



    “Grohey, no’magu raf’hash morinaw.”



    She walked over and they began moving down the hallway in the opposite direction at an amble. They passed the intersection with the hall they had turned off before and kept going. Rika was still in shock from everything, and it was easy for her to lose herself in thought at she automatically followed the grey blob in the corner of her vision.

    She was stuck here, with these aliens. She didn’t know for how long, or what they were going to do with or too her. There was a hunch that she wouldn’t be seeing any other humans for a long time, possibly years if ever again, and that realization almost made her stop in place. Years... Years without having a conversation in english... Years without seeing a face she recognized as her own species and could read the body language of. Years surrounded by these bizarre people in a futuristic world. She didn’t even know their language. How would she survive?

    But she could do something about the communication barrier, she realized. If one could learn Spanish or Japanese, why couldn’t one could learn their language?



    “Grenkle?” she said, making him look up. He had the look of a startled dog, perhaps by her boldness?

    “Etsh?” he replied.

    “Can you teach me to speak... your language?”

    He stopped walking and turned to face her. She stopped without thinking, still looking at the ground, “It’s just, I’m going to have to live with your people for I don’t know how long, and even though you might understand me I can’t understand what your-”

    Two fingers interrupted her, pressing gently up under her chin. She followed them, looking up at Grenkle. He was beaming, the expression similar to that of their old dog after she had nabbed a ground hog in the back yard.

    “Etsh.” he replied

    “Etsh?” she repeated.

    “Etsh,” he nodded.

    “Etsh means yes?”

    He nodded at again, “Etsh! Gorroom etch nal’hosh math ini fa yes.”

    “I don’t understand you, I’m sorry. Something about etsh and yes.”

    He placed a finger over her lips and shook his head, “Gorroom etsh. Oni yes.”

    “You don’t want me to use it? You’ve lost me.”

    “Oni yes.”

    “Is ‘yes’ one of your words too?”

    He shook his head, and let out a low grumble while staring in thought at the wall,    “Oni.”

    “Oni means no?”

    He looked up suddenly, his tail giving a wag behind him.

    “Etsh.”

    “So you don’t want me using yes any more?”

    “Etsh! Oni yes, ma’se oni no.”

    “I can’t say yes or no anymore? Then what am I supposed to say?”

    “Etsh, ma’se oni.”

    She bit her lip, not liking where this language lesson was going. She gave in only after a second though; “Let me guess, it’s so I’ll learn faster, right?”

    “Etsh.”

    She sighed. “I guess it’s for the best. It’s not like anyone else around me will speak english.”

    He gave her a pat on her shoulder and pointed down the hall. “Nawath?” he said, patting his stomach and pointing to his mouth with the other hand.

    “Food? Nawath is food?”

    “Oni food, gorroom nawath!” he cheered, his damn tail wagging so fast it was blur.

    “Ah! At this rate you’ll take all my words!” she exclaimed. “I would like some foo- er, nawath though. My stomach is growling. Uh, I can eat your food, I mean, it’s not going to poison me, right?”

    He started walking again down the hall, “Etsh.”

    He led her through a maze of passage ways, up a couple of ladder-wells, through some more hallway, down another ladder-well and another hall that lead to a double automatic door. Grenkle walked up to the door and it hissed open to either side revealing what looked like everything of the inside of a medium sized cafeteria. Four rows of about five round tables filled the floor to the back wall with little walking room between each.  Each table could sit about eight people comfortably, the chairs sliding in and out along tracks in the floor and pivoting, as indicated by the handful of rakkan that were eating. Along the length of the right side of the room ran a serving line, manned by several rakkan wearing food stained uniforms similar in appearance to that which Grenkle wore, only white. About seven more of the aliens stood in line at the serving bar, most looking rather tired.

    Grenkle walked up to the back of the line, waving and calling back to a few that noticed him. Everyone saw her though. A few stared, but quickly averted their eyes when she looked at them. Grenkle held short conversation with a few of them, and Rika had a suspicion much of it was about her. One of them who was seated at a near by table finished eating and came over to them, continuing the conversation. He was a a few inches shorter than Rika and covered in dark brown fur. A jet black blaze ran from his nose to between his eyes where after it widened into broad stripe than disappeared beneath the back of the collar of his uniform. Eventually they finished and the rakkan turned to Rika, holding out his hand.



    “Ehy, Rika’. Moru na Agner.”

    “Hello-” began Rika, but she was cut off by Grenkle, who waved his hand and corrected her.

    “Ehy, Agner.”

    “Ehy, Agner,” she began. “Moru na Rika?” she finished, ending it in more of a question to Grenkle than anything else.

    “Moru na Grenkle,” Grenkle replied with a wag, then pointed to her, “Oni ‘hello’.”



    “This is too fast,” she whined in mock anger, “He keeps taking my words! How will I talk?”

    Agner made a noise that sounded like a series of guttural barks. A laugh?



    He growled something to her, waved at Grenkle and walked out through the door, leaving them in the moving line. It wasn’t long before Rika found a tray shoved at her. She looked up to see Grenkle pulling another one off a stack on top of the bar for himself and grabbing a handful of utensils from a bin. He dropped a set on her tray as he slid his down the line.

    A pair of chopsticks, a spoon, and a knife, all made out of the same black material. She picked up a chopstick and looked it over. The texture was that of a hard plastic, but it was much more rigid. She fingered it a few more moments before the waft of something delicious caught her attention.

    Grenkle was talking to one of the servers, pointing to things on the bar through the clear paneling. The server had two plates of the same black color. She didn’t recognize any of the food, though it smelt wonderful. There were trays of different colored casseroles and sauces and strange vegetables and meats. She didn’t know what any of it was —it could be stewed donkey dung for all she knew— but if it smelt like that she didn’t care. She enjoyed simply breathing the air, her mouth watering in anticipation.

    One of the plates the server had looked like it had a vegetable and a casserole of some kind. The other she assumed was hers, as Grenkle was having the server put a small portion of almost everything on it.



    “Are they done performing those horrible experiments on you yet?”

    The deep, human male voice made her jump. Her dad stood behind her with his tray, grinning.

    “Hello!” he smiled.

    “Hell-” she began, but was abruptly interrupted by a sharp growl of a bark.

    “BARH!”

    She jumped and looked at Grenkle, the exact reaction he wanted. He looked very calm for having made the noise, in fact he was quietly taking the plates from the server.

    “Ehy,” he corrected, “Oni hello.”

    “What!” exclaimed Rika, “Even to my own dad?”

    “Etsh,” replied the rakken.

    She sighed, and continued. “Ehy dad.”

    “Ehy daughter!” he replied with a laugh, “I see the language lessons have already started.”

    “Etsh,” she glowered, “he won’t let me use english if I know their word.”

    “It works though,” he said, “it’s how I learned.” He handed his plate to the server, “Ah, etsh. Aormu.”

    Her father continued down the serving line as they left. Rika grabbed her tray and followed Grenkle to a table, Matt following shortly as a group of about ten or twelve filthy looking aliens trudged into the cafeteria. She mused briefly at such a futuristic race still having dirty jobs and a night shift. The thought was lost when she shoveled a spoonful of casserole into her mouth though.

    Flavor exploded through her nose and tongue, erupting into her brain as she closed her eyes and savored the food. She hadn’t tasted anything like this before, not even at her grandmothers. That lady could cook, too. She moaned, chewing slowly and letting the spices and ingredients roll over her tongue. When she opened her eyes Matt was sitting across from her, quietly laughing.

    “Good food, eh?”

    “Oh man, like nothing else! If the fo- ah...” she glanced at Grenkle who had stopped eating her and was watching her, waiting to see if she would use the english word or not. “Nawath!”  she said, “If the nawath is always this good I don’t care if I ever eat earth nawath again!”

    Matt chuckled as he scooped up a spoonful on his own plate, “You will, but I have to say I’ve missed the Trisona’s grub a bit myself. The cooks aboard definitely know what they are doing.”

    Grenkle growled something at him between mouthfuls, with Matt growling something back occasionally. She noticed rakkan didn’t chew very much at a time, she figured that probably had a lot to do with not having cheeks. Still, watching Grenkle eat and talk, along with the other rakkan in the cafeteria she was surprised by how ‘human’ they were. They were people, she realized, just like everyone else.

    “Rika,” said Matt through half a mouthful of food before swallowing, “you will be getting a vaccine tonight. It’s for a very dangerous disease that they can carry and is transferrable to us. The vaccine is safe and it won’t hurt you. Oh, and they’ll probably fit you with a retriever so you don’t get lost or jettison yourself into a vaccum or blow something up. I’m telling you all of this now so you don’t flip out if someone tries to stick a needle in your arm. Ok?”

    She nodded, “Etsh.”

    Vaccines made sense. Humans carried all sorts of nasty things themselves, like E. Coli, Strep., along with a host of other wonderful gems like Variola and Yeast, so why would these people be any different? A retriever she didn’t like the sound of, but she blocked it out mentally. There was enough else to worry about, and it probably sounded worse than it really was.

    A jet black rakken with a grey blaze and dark grey patches of fur on either side of their muzzle had quietly walked up behind Matt. It looked directly at her, seemingly unfazed by the presence of another human, and put a finger over it’s lips -a very human gesture as she was to learn- for silence. Suspecting the creature was plotting something to Matt’s demise, Rika looked at Grenkle and acted like she was going to ask him a question. The rakkan’s black hands slipped over Matt’s eyes. When it spoke it was in english, but the accent was strong enough to stand a spoon up in.

    “Guss who?”

    Matt broke into a grin, “Ehy Bar! Long time no see.”

    “Ehy,” the rakkan began as she pulled his head into her stomach, then he rambled on into something Rika didn’t understand.

    “Bar,” said Matt, motioning to Grenkle with his eyes still covered, “This is Rika, I told you about her before. Rika this is Bar, another one of the folks I used to work with.”

    Bar let go of Matt’s head and extended a hand across the table, winking at Rika. Grenkle took it.

    “Ehy Bar.”

    “Ehy Rika’,” Bar replied.

    “Since both Grenkle and Bar don’t do much while the ship is under way you’ll most likely be spending time with one or the other. They’ll keep you out of trouble and teach you what you need to know. I’ll be in and out. They’ve put me to work already, apparently someone thought it would be a great idea to purchase a few old earth aircraft to train with, but they’re asking me about modifying them somehow.” He rolled his eyes, “-pieces of shit. I can’t get away from them.”

    Bar started chittering with Matt again, sliding into the seat next to him. Rika continued to relish in her plate of food, most of them she liked, a few she did not. Finally she was full. She slumped back in the chair, pushing her plate away from the edge.

    “That was amazing.”

    Grenkle dug at something in his teeth with a claw, “Etsh.” He stood up and picked his plate off the table, with Rika mimicking his actions. She gave a nod to her dad who was still talking to Bar. He nodded back, and she followed Grenkle across the galley to a series of holes in the wall. They were all waist high, and alternated between a slot that was about four inches high and a foot wide and a round hole that she might have been able to fit her fist through. He slid his plate into the slot where it was promptly whisked away with the muffled sound of machinery. She did the same as he dumped his silverware through the round hole.

    They walked back out the door they had first entered and once again got lost in the maze of hallways and ladder wells and elevators until they arrived at a set of double doors much like that on the galley, but with a large, bright green symbol on them of a downward facing crescent balancing on a pole, almost like a soggy letter “T”. Inside looked like entryway to an emergency room, with gurneys parked against the walls along with waiting chairs and another set of double doors that looked like someone had gotten impatient with and rammed a few times with a gurney. Black streaks lined through the same green symbol that had been on the outer door.

    Grenkle motioned for her to sit, saying something she didn’t catch while he talked to a rakkan seated behind a counter. He nodded a few times was ambling his way back to where she was when the inner door slid open and Agner popped out, wearing a large grey pouch on a belt over his hip. The dark brown rakkan immediately noticed Grenkle and turned to the receptionist, growling something while pointing to her. The receptionist nodded and Agner turned back towards the doors.

    “Grenkle, Reek-ka,” he called, motioning them to follow.



    Rika stood up and followed him and Grenkle through the doorway into a wide hall that branched off several times.. He led them down a hallway immediately to the right, and into what was obviously an exam room, closing the door behind them. Inside the room was a short counter in the corner with a set of drawers below it and a few cabinets above it. In the middle of the room sat a long, padded exam table and small chair next to the door. Agner and Grenkle talked back and forth about something for a few minutes before Grenkle turned to her. He opened his mouth as if to say something, gave a defeated look and then shrugged, as if to tell her “I can’t explain.”

    She nodded and rolled up her sleeve, remembering what Matt had mentioned earlier about a vaccine. Grenkle gave an expression that looked like he had just slapped himself in the face, and Agner looked relieved, opening a cabinet on the short counter and drawing out a white, capped pen shaped object and another tool that looked like a small flashlight with the head bent at a ninety degree angle. He held it up, and it shone a small square of brilliantly bright light on her shoulder.

    “What is that?” she asked, pointing to the device.

    “Oma gokawa,” replied Grenkle.

    “Oma gokawa,” she repeated, pointing at the strange object.

    Grenkle shook his head and touched her lips, “Wha is tha’, Oma gokawa?”

    “Oma Gokawa means ‘what is that?”

    Grenkle nodded. Rika pointed at the device again, which Agner had finished using and had set back on the counter.

    “Oma gokawa?”



    Grenkle paused for a moment, then held his hands up and imitated a human shrug. He didn’t know what it was called either. Agner stepped back, putting the cap back on the pen.

    “Done already?”

    He nodded, growling something.   

    “Wow, that was fast,” she said, rolling down her shirt sleeve.



    He didn’t reply, instead he dumped the pen through small hole in the wall and began rummaging through the pouch he wore. Grenkle watched him for a few minutes before she saw an idea come to his mind and he pulled a small handheld computer from his pocket. At first she thought it was a game, but when he walked next to her and leaned over she could see the screen. On it was displayed  map, and he was moving an icon with a plate and chopsticks to a large room, one that she recognized as the Galley. Once the icon was placed he flipped through several other maps, stopping at one before opening a menu full of symbols and scrolling through them.

    A pair of hands reached towards her holding something and she jerked back out of instinct. Agner withdrew quickly, looking uneasy. In his hands he held a featureless strap. Brilliant red in color, it was about ten or so inches long and about an inch wide, but other than that it was completely featureless.

    He growled something, holding up the strap and motioning around his wrist before pointing at her.

    “Oma gokawa?” she asked.



    “Argh,” he said, looking frustrated. Grenkle saved him by thrusting the computer in front of her again. It showed a map, this time of the floor they were on. The reception area was marked with the same green soggy “T” the doors where, and she could see a blinking red dot in the room they were in.

    “This thing?” she asked, pointing to the dot on the small screen with one hand and motioning to the computer with the other. Grenkle shook his head and pointed to the strap. It was a tracking device, she realized, the ‘retriever’.

    “I don’t know about that...” she said, “it would be kind of creepy to be followed everywhere. Can’t I just use a map without that? I won’t get into trouble.” Grenkle got her attention and pointed to the screen again. This time there was an icon of a bed in a small room.

    Agner didn’t wast any time. Before she could react she felt the band around her left wrist, shrinking down until it contacted her arm gently all the way around. She snatched at it, tugging and feeling and looking around it’s circumference in search of a buckle or some fastener. The strap didn’t give at all though, and her fingers found nothing, giving the impression that it had been manufactured in a circle, perfectly sized around her arm.

    “WHAT THE FUCK!” she yelled, “why the hell would you do that?!”

    Agner’s ears were flat against his head, and he looked at the ground, almost apologetically. He shrugged, and muttered something.

    Grenkle looked frustrated for a moment, then showed Rika the map on his PDA again, quickly flipping through the different floors of the ship. Then he pulled it away and pointed to Rika before holding his hand over his eyes to exaggerate himself looking for something. After that he gave an exasperated shrug.

    “I’ll get lost? You won’t be able to find me? What?”

    He growled something, pointing back and forth between two imaginary points in front of him.

    “Both?”

    Grenkle nodded.

    “How can I get lost! I’m short, have no muzzle and I’m furless! All you’d have to do is ask which way the naked money went!”

    He sighed and shook his head before taking a small, oblong cylinder from Agner. He pressed the end of the cylinder and a holographic two dimensional map identical to the one he had just shown her on his PDA appeared from the side of the cylinder. He twisted a dial at one end and the maps scrolled by on top of each other -the floors of the ship. He twisted the other dial and a menu of symbols appeared, scrolling through them until he found the one with a plate and chopsticks. A tap on the end of the cylinder selected it, and the menu disappeared. The map showed a blue line running back out the doors and down the hallways the way they had come.



    “Neat, it’s a map. I don’t see what that has to do with me wearing this stupid thing.”

    His brow furrowed again and he groaned, getting frustrated. He pointed to the red dot on the map before handing it to her and pulling up his PDA and showing her the same red dot, then grabbing Agner’s PDA and pulling up the map, showing her the same red blinking dot.

    “Everyone will know where I am. So what? I’m sure you could just as easily use this map thing than this stupid cuff.”

    He nodded, then snatched the map from her, tossing it underneath the exam table. Then he made a big show of frantically looking through drawers, under the chair, above cabinets, and even patted the sides of Agner’s uniform. Then he stopped, pulled out his PDA again, pointed to the red dot, and then to Rika’s wrist.

    “I’m an adult enough not to loose the map.”



    Grenkle gave her a look that said “you say that now...” He went back to his PDA, pulling up a floor where several of the rooms were colored a solid red. He showed Rika the screen and gave her a terrified look, crossing his arms before drawing his hand across his throat, lolling his tongue out one side and giving an obvious “dead” face.



    “The rooms are dangerous?”



    He nodded vigorously, looking very serious.



    “But if I loose the map, even with this stupid bracelet, how am I going to know when I am going into one?”



    Grenkle used his fingers to imitate someone walking on the map displayed on his PDA. He “walked” up to one of the doorways of a red room, then reached out and pinched Rika’s arm.



    “Ouch!” she gasped, “This thing is going to hurt me if I walk near the wrong door?”



    Grenkle nodded and held up his thumb and forefinger, indicating something small. He said something she didn’t understand, then walked past Agner to the door. Once at the door he grabbed his wrist and gave a small yip, then reached for the console. He motioned like he was going to open the door, then suddenly leaned to one side and started snoring. After that he made a beeping noise, stood upright again and pulled out his PDA, giving an expression of shock.

    “So it’ll knock me out if I try to open the door.”

    Grenkle nodded.



    “Because it might hurt me.”



    He gave an exaggerated nod.



    “So it’s safer to knock me out automatically, where I might fall and hit my head, than let me open the door, see that it’s dangerous and decide otherwise,” she said, dripping with sarcasim.



    Grenkle growled, then turned around and waved his hands to the sky, clearly frustrated. Afterwards he stood for a few minutes thinking, then turned back to his PDA, as if an inspiration hit him. Moments later he showed it to her again.

    It looked like a movie clip, only with rakkan actors instead of humans. There was a group arguing outside a door. One was clearly trying to talk the other out of something. The second rakkan wasn’t having any of it though, because the person defiantly pressed the green circle, automatically actuating the door.

    Fur burned from skin, which instantly boiled and vaporized from flesh that charred and evaporated within seconds. Even though it looked like a scifi movie to Rika, she found it revolting. The scene shifted to a different part of the ship several times, showing the same fate of everyone on board; in the galley, in the bridge, in berthing, and everywhere in between. The video ended with alien words across the screen, and a voice saying something she couldn’t understand. It was clearly a informational or safety video.



    “THAT’S what’s behind those doors?”



    Grenkle counted a few fingers, then nodded. Inside some of them, yes.



    Rika remembered touring a nuclear Submarine one summer, and the tour guide explaining the dangers of opening the wrong door at the wrong time. She fingered the band around her wrist, imagining herself opening a door and getting blasted with radiation; evaporating herself instantly and flooding the hallways of the ship with agonizing death to anyone who touched the very air, or getting launched into space’s infinite vacuum as she opened a door to the outside. 



    “Maybe this is a good idea.”

   

    Grenkle’s tail gave a wag and he growled again, pointing down the hall while imitating her dad’s distinctive stroll. Then he motioned to punching himself in the face.



    “Yeah, if he lived I doubt he would be very happy with either of us.” She gazed over where Agner was still looking like he had stepped on a kitten. “I understand now Agner, stop looking guilty. It’s ok.”

    He looked up at her, his expression perking significantly, then gave her a thumbs up before slinking out of the room.

    “He’s a bit of an odd fellow, isn’t he?”   

    Grenkle nodded in agreement, picking up the PDA and slipping it back into a pocket. Rika thumbed through the menu of her map, stopping at something that looked like writing.



    “What’s this?” she asked, showing the map. Grenkle peered down at it before tapping himself on the chest.

    “Grenkle,” he growled.

    “That’s you?,” she asked, selecting it and pulling up the location on the map. “This is where you live?”

    He shook his head, and growled a word. Rika tried it a few times, Grenkle saying it slowly as she stumbled over it until she got it right. Once she did, she pointed to the map and repeated the word.

    “Etsh,” he smiled. “Oni ‘work’.”

    She sighed, having lost another word in her shrinking english vocabulary. “I’m not going to remember all of these right away. You know that, right?”

    Grenkle patted her on the head, then turned the menu to show a bed, and selected it. She looked up to see his face, trying to understand. He simply motioned to himself, thought for a bit, then put him hands together next to him face and closed his eyes before looking at her and motioning over his shoulder with a thumb.

    “You’re going to bed?”

    He nodded, then pointed at her.

    “Me too?”

    He shrugged. He wasn’t going to force her, he was just asking, and that made her feel better. It had been a long day though...



    “Yeah, I think I’m going to too.”



    He nodded, then grabbed the map again, re-selecting his name.



    “You want me to find you here tomorrow?”

    He gave her a thumbs up, moving towards the door.

    “Ok, I can do that. This map will make it hard to get lost.”

    He nodded again, waved, and disappeared out the door. Rika stared at the map again. The red dot slowly blinked in the center of the map. The dot that would always be there, reminding her that she was being watched as long as she was on board, however long that was. She gave a sigh and selected her room again.



    It was better than irradiating herself. She could explore safely, and it didn’t look like she was going to be under any escort now that she had her electronic, unremovable “friend”. Would she have traded this for being shadowed by someone the entire time? Probably not. She stood and walked out into the hall and left the clinic, ambling down the hall as she followed the red line on the map.

    There were a few Rakkan out and about as she made her way back to her room. She only got second glance from a few. A couple even waved, growling a greeting that she echoed. When she got to her room her eyes were starting to feel heavy, and by the time she had gotten undressed and slid herself into the bed she was so exhausted that she barely noticed the lights automatically dimming.



******



    She was flying, high and fast. Below her she could see the curve of the earth as it appeared to spin backwards, the swirling clouds bursting into brilliance as the sun rose in the west. She was in a cockpit, and even though it was dark she could make out two other figures in front of her, and one to her right. She was a part of the crew, and knew them all well. They were closer than any family she had ever known. She knew them all like the back of her hand, and loved them like nothing else. Her pack. The word floated warmly in her mind. Her pack was her family... She had a family...

         The wall illuminated slightly as she sat up, barely stopping herself in time as she noticed the ceiling a measly few inches from her forehead. This wasn’t her bed.



    She rolled over, and saw the opening of her bunk into the rest of a very small room... which definitely wasn’t her bedroom. Her heart began to race as she climbed out of bed, the room suddenly becoming much brighter. Where was she? Why was she here? She didn’t remember drinking at all last night... or did she? Max had told her they were going to have a party on the wharf on Friday... did she end up on a boat? Last she remembered it was a wednesday though... what day was it?



    She was about to do a feverish search in her mind for the happenings of the night before when she came face-to-face with a mirror. A scared, bedraggled looking young woman stared back at her. It wasn’t her wild hair, sleepy eyes, or unclothed body that caught her attention though. The solid, uninterrupted stripe of red around her wrist opened a floodgate of memories of the day before, flowing in reverse from Agner’s sly move in the infirmary, to eating in a cafeteria surrounded by canine-esk extra terrestrials, to Grenkle pulling her aboard the ship from the clearing. She remembered her shock and fear at learning her fate, and the long hike through the forest in the dark. There was her father, telling her to pack little, and the judge, smacking his hammer.

    Oh God! What kind of trouble was she in? She was aboard an alien ship, handed off to an alien military. Her mind raced, images of every alien movie she had ever seen running through her mind at blinding speed. Her legs began to quiver, and she sat down on the bed again.

    There was something hard and rigid under her butt. She pulled out the book that she had forgotten about the night before. “Human Memoirs” by Greg Howell. She had asked for it based on a recommendation by a friend, but knew nothing about the story itself She flipped to the first page, and read a quote that headed the first chapter.



    “I, a stranger and afraid,

    In a world I never made.”

    -HOUSMAN



    “Brother, you said it,” she muttered.



    There was a knock on her door.



    “Just a minute!” She yelled, quickly pulling on her clothes before opening the door.



    She had expected to see perhaps a gurney, adorn with straps and several of the aliens waiting to tie her down and wheel her away to her doom. Or maybe just Agner and two others, impatient to experiment on a new life form. What she didn’t expect to see was Grenkle, alone, looking like he had just rolled out of bed himself. His eyes were half open, and any fur not covered by his uniform was sticking out every which way.

    He held and invisible plate in front of him and mimicked eating something with chopsticks.

    “Nawath?” he asked.



    “Uh,” began Rika, still trying to recover from her mild panic. She froze for a few seconds as she collected herself. The word sounded like it should be something she knew.

    “Yeah,” she said, pulling herself together, “Nawath sounds like a good idea.”

   

    Grenkle didn’t leave her much time to worry about her situation. He immediately started the language lessons again, beginning with the diningware and tried explaining what she was eating. They didn’t get very far, but he successfully kept her mind of anything else until the meal was over. Afterwards he lead her up to his office, where he fiddled with his PDA a bit before a small stack of papers slid out of a slot in the side of his desk, dropping into a folding tray one at a time.

    Rika was amused at this. Far more advanced than anything she had seen, and they still used the old parchament.

    “Wow, I can’t believe you guys still use paper,” she said.



    Grenkle acted like a child, crashing his PDA into the desk with a mimiced explosion. She giggled.

    “I guess it’s nice to know that even you guys have system crashes.”

   

         His ears flickered out in what Rika read as a smile. He handed Rika the papers that had stopped sliding out of the side of his desk. She fingered through them before realizing that it was the same two documents, printed twice. Once in the strange, bizarre characters she was learning to speak, and another time in English. She paged through the first document, the symbols making about as much sense to her as Egyptian hieroglyphics. She stopped at that last page though, and her heart caught. There at the bottom was her name, signed in her own handwriting. It was dated over a two weeks ago.

    She skipped the second document, also written in rakkan, and went straight to the first one printed in english. She pulled both out and held them side-by-side for Grenkle to see.

    “Are these the same?” she asked.



    He nodded. She began to read the english document, running through the five steps of grief. At first she was in denial as she began comprehending the terms of her contract.



    “No, no, this can’t be. I didn’t sign this.. I couldn’t have...”



         But she knew she had, just as she knew that her father had known she would before she had even picked up a pen. She could almost taste the bitterness as it burned away at her- anger at her father for pulling a low trick, but more angry at herself for ignoring what she knew was good advice for the sake of rebellion. But as she kept reading that too passed, and her rage melted into something different. She began rescanning the contract, looking for loopholes.



    “Is there anyway I can not go? You know, like say I wasn’t thinking properly, or cancel the contract before it takes effect?”



    Grenkle shook his head. His face was blank, his body emotionless. He was simply watching her ride the roller coaster. Rika could feel a great weight wrapping it’s self around her heart. They had her as securely by this contract as they did by the cuff around her wrist. There was no escaping. Her fate was spelled out in the black letters on the paper. Suicide crossed her mind, -briefly. The feeling of being trapped was almost overwhelming, but she loved life too much to not search for a sliver of hope.

         She picked up the contract again, looking over the conditions and terms she had agreed to without reading. Ten years. Supplied pay, room and board. Job description to be determined later. Entry grade to be first enlisted. A decade of probably traveling all over the universe, but never setting foot on earth again. Even once it end, how would she get back? It’s not like they ran a regular shuttle service to Earth. Or did they?

         Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. It was ten years she had given away at a careless mistake, there was nothing she could to about that now. Perhaps she would have a lot of fun. She doubted it, but one never knew. It was certain that she would learn a lot, and how many folks could honestly say that they had ever met an alien, let alone served in an alien military?

    She stared at her signature at the bottom of a page filled with alien writing. Over all, actually, it didn’t seem like she was getting too bad of a deal. What it came to extra terrestrials, this was lot better than being bound to a slab while they picked you apart...



    “Well,” she said, putting the document on Grenkle’s desk, “it’s going to be an interesting ride at the least. I take it I’m starting training?”

    He tapped the other document in her hand. She gave him a puzzled look, then began reading. It was her orders, telling her to report for basic training at a camp she couldn’t pronounce before the forty third day of a month she didn’t know.



    “I have no idea where or when this is,” she said, pointing to the page. Grenkled motioned his hand landing on the table.

    “After we land? How long until we do that?” she said, feeling nervous. Grenkle flashed the fingers on his hands three times.



    “Thirty? Thirty hours? No? Thirty days?”



    He nodded, and Rika relaxed a little. She had time to prepare, both mentally and physically. She could continue learning from Grenkle, and hopefully have enough of a grip on the lingo to not be completely lost on her arrival.

         She looked back over her contract printed in english, her eyes stopping at the mention of salary.

         “I’m going to be paid?’

         Grenkle nodded with an expression that said “Really? Did you really think you wouldn’t be paid?”

         “How much is this in dollars?”

         Grenkle picked up his PDA and fiddled with it for a few moments before scribbling a number on her contract. An accented voice over her shoulder made her jump.



         “Its not much, but yoo’ll get moor when yoor promoted.”

         Rika looked up to see Bar reading over her shoulder.



         “Ehy Bar. It’s still more than I’ve ever made before.”

         “Did yoo go o’er the contract with ‘er Grenkle?”

         He nodded.

         “Good!” said Bar before turning to Rika, “I made an appointment for yoor entry processing this afternoon.”

         Rika shifted uneasily. Despite the friendly attitude of those around here she still didn’t quite trust these people... especially when it came to anything medical, which was bound to be a part of it. She wanted to stay as far away from the infirmary as possible. Bar must have noticed her nervousness, because she crouched down to look at her eye-to-eye.

         “Relax Rika’. We’re not going to hurt you. It’s unple, unple... it sucks but the papers don’t fill out themselves. And the exam is nothing to be arfraid of. Nobody is going to be stabbed or cut open.”

         Rika nodded, but she didn’t feel any better.

         Bar drummed her fingers on the desk while looking at the wall. “I wish humans weren’t so afraid of this kin’ of thing. After watching those movies last time I kno’ why though.”

         Grenkle muttered something and Bar nodded in agreement.

         “What did he say?” Rika asked.

         “He said at least yoo arnt as bad as Matt was. He was a pain in the... um, not anus... ass! Etsh, he was a pain in the ass to get anything done with. Trusted nobody.”

         “Really?”

         “Etsh. Grenkle brought him on board the firs’ time. Told me how he had to esplain everything in detail or he wouldn’ move. He didn’t even eat for a’most a week -thought we were gonna to try and drug him. Crazy bastard”

         Rika giggled, glad she wasn’t the only one who thought he was a bit over the edge. Grenkle said something that she couldn’t understand and Bar nodded.



         “He’s right, but under the circumstances I think ‘ll give yoo one more day of English.”

         Rika eyed Grenkle suspiciously.

         “So you CAN speak english... you just refuse to.”

         He nodded, saying something in Rakkan. Bar giggled, her ears out in amusement.

         “He says its to help yoo learn. I just think he’s really rusty and afraid of embarrassing himself.”

         Grenkle bit his top lip, his bottom teeth showing in a gesture.

         “Tha’s like showing yoor finger to someone, Rika’” Bar explained, “Same to you Grenkle. Come on Rika’, lets go to yoor appointment.”