Sarsuk 15 (Patreon)

We had a wonderful day of food and no family around. Hope yours was great too.

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Sarsuk paced back and forth across his living room, huffing in irritation. “Not the information they’re looking for? Of course, it was! Why are they messing with me?”

He leaned against the wall. “It’s payback, isn’t it? They think I’m helpless here, and they can finally do whatever they want to me, thinking I can’t retaliate.” The krakun grinned. “But that’s just because they underestimate me.”

He paced some more. Three steps down, turn, three steps back. He let himself fall into the nearly hypnotic rhythm of the movements.

“I’m facing three major challenges,” he said quietly. “First, resetting.” He clenched his fists so tightly that his talons dug into his palms.

“This is a problem because any progress I make is just going to be wiped away when the simulation resets,” he said then paced some more. “I can stay inside the building to prevent a reset, but I have to sleep sooner or later. That makes this the most important problem, the one I need to fix first.”

He felt his way back to the kitchen and started rifling through the drawers once more. He remembered exactly what was in each, but he needed to be doing something. “Second, I’m trapped here,” he growled, then tipped his head back and forth conceding, “which is essentially part of the first problem.”

He slammed a drawer just as hard as he could. It didn’t open properly after that, so he could tell he’d broken it, but without the satisfying Crash! it relieved little of his frustration. “It’s funny, I’ve always hated having to leave my apartment and wished I didn’t have to work so I could just stay in,” he grumbled, “but now that I can’t leave, I hate it. It’s really bugging me.”

He visualized hacking the simulation somehow and triumphantly stepping down from the entranceway to the concrete sidewalk… He paused. “Hopefully, there is a simulation out beyond my apartment building. It would really stink if I stepped off the front stairs and just fell through the void like a buggy video game.”

He opened the microwave and then slammed the door, really putting some power into it. He grinned when it broke free, raised the loose door over his head, and cast it down into the sink just as hard as he could manage. Again, there was no sound, but it still felt satisfying to flex his muscles.

“When I figure a way out of this, I need to set up a watchdog of some sort,” he muttered, “something I need to interact with regularly to prevent a reset. That way, if I do fall, I just have to wait it out before the reset happens.” That made him smile.

He returned to the living room and sat down on the couch—his spawn point, as he’d come to think of it. He said quietly, “And the last problem…”

He laid back down and let his heart rate slow. “Damn it. I don’t like being in this simulation alone,” he whispered. “Even having that damned cleaning crew nearby was better than being the only person in here.”

# # #

Sarsuk watched the little geroo get her morning mug of javea and make some chit-chat with Doctor Palani. He thought back on his lesson from Dennydr and wondered if his assessment of these short-lived creatures had been accurate.

In the past few weeks, he’d been speaking with her so much, but yet, she didn’t seem frightened of her own mortality. In fact, she didn’t seem to think on it at all. But how could that be? Even freed from the confines of a generation ship and their sixty-year limits, each geroo could only hope for a century or so.

How could they even function when strapped to a ticking time bomb like that?

The two greeted one another and Siki settled into her usual seat. She poked at her notes. “When we talked earlier about you going to prison,” she said, “you mentioned feeling hostility toward a lot of people—Nyakkat, your boss, your lawyer, the judge…”

Her knack for understatement made him laugh. “Well, yeah. Like you said, I got screwed.”

“I remember,” said Siki. “I was just wondering which of those four you were most upset with.”

He blinked in surprise, then pulled a little closer. “Why? Why do you want to know that?”

“It’s a game I like to play. I call it ‘How well do I know you?’” she explained with a smile on her ears.

With an eye ridge raised, he said a cautious, “Interesting. What are the rules?”

“Well, first you imagine how someone else thinks,” she said with a flourish of her spread fingertips, “then you ask yourself how they’d answer a question. If you’re right, you get a point.”

Sarsuk wrinkled his snout. She was obviously lying. “This isn’t a real game. You’re just making this up.”

She tapped her chin with a finger. Smirking, she asked, “Is that how you imagine I think?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Cute. And if you guess wrong?”

“That’s the hard part, Sarsuk,” said Siki. “If you guess wrong, then you have to change how you imagine them so you’d get the right answer if you tried again.”

He studied her in silence for a bit until she offered, “You could go first, if you wanted.”

“No, it’s fine,” said the krakun. “Okay, let’s see. I need to decide between Nyakkat, my boss, my lawyer, and the judge? Well, it wouldn’t be my lawyer nor the judge. They were just too lazy to deal with me fairly. I hate that, but it wasn’t malicious. They didn’t try to screw me over.”

Siki nodded as if she’d predicted that much. “Nyakkat and your boss sure did.”

“And succeeded too,” he sighed. “Nyakkat tricked me, and my boss took the opportunity to make a bad situation worse.”

The geroo wiggled excitedly in place. “Right. If Nyakkat really knew the secrets were unclassified, then she probably didn’t think she was putting you at much risk, but your boss actually tried to get you killed…”

“She succeeded, for all intents and purposes,” said the former commissioner. “I suppose I feel more upset about Nyakkat than my boss. I hate them both, but Nyakkat…”

She stared at him a long while with ears lowered. “Really? That surprises me,” she admitted. “I was certain you’d say your boss.”

He drew a breath and released it in a noisy sigh. “That’s because you can’t really comprehend what a vindictive bitch Saqqadr is.”

“I guess not.”

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “You see, I screwed up. Nyakkat planted a bug on me and recorded our plans for the fleet,” he explained. “Saqqadr could have reprimanded me—could have even fired me by filling out a form. Someone in accounting would have rubber-stamped the thing, and I’d have been out on the street the same day without any additional fallout.”

Siki nodded. “But instead—”

“Instead, she pretended that I stole government secrets!” interrupted Sarsuk. “She falsified documents, made the company look bad, and even risked her own career. They could have thrown her into prison if they’d realized. Perjury on government forms a felony.”

The geroo covered her mouth with a paw. She couldn’t understand why his boss would have done such a horrible thing. “All just to get you killed?”

“That and to warn my coworkers not to fuck with her,” said Sarsuk. “I doubt any of them will ever cross her now. I hate her, but I’ve got to respect her dedication.”

Siki put her palms on her head, pressed hard on her temples as if she thought it might explode. “And Nyakkat?”

He looked away. Despite his size, he felt small and vulnerable. In a whisper, he admitted, “I think I might have been in love with her.”

“Oh, jeez. I’m sorry, Sarsuk.” For a moment, she reached out to touch him, seemingly having forgotten that he wasn’t one of her friends.

“My fault.” Sarsuk smiled when she pulled away her paw. He resisted the urge to shrug with shoulders he no longer had. “I should never have let her get close.”

The two sat in awkward silence for what felt like a minute, but was probably only seconds. In a cheerful tone, she said, “If I could, I’d like to play a game with you.”

“We just played your ‘How well do I know you?’ game,” said the krakun. “How many more of these do you have?”

“Just one more if you don’t mind.” Siki’s ears raised in a smile. “I’d like you to close your eyes and pretend I’m Nyakkat.”

His scowl returned. He demanded, “Why?”

In a soft voice, the little mammal explained, “Because she left you hanging. By the time you knew for sure that she’d betrayed you, she was long gone.” And that was true enough. “You never got any closure from her. I’d like to hear what you’d say to her if you had the chance.”

He stared at the far wall so he couldn’t see her eyes. “Ugh. Do I have to?”

“I’d like you to.”

This, he contemplated. Still early morning, and he was tired of her games. He didn’t want to think about Nyakkat and how much hurt she’d left behind. He could say no, but he couldn’t deny the appeal. He stood up from the couch and paced for a few moments.

“Okay,” he said softly. He closed his eyes, focused himself, and with razors and broken glass in his voice, he hissed, “Nyakkat, I fucking hate you. I hope wild animals tear you into tiny bits.”

When she squeaked in surprise, he peeked and felt a quick thrill. Sadly, it didn’t last long.

“Wow, that’s graphic,” she gasped. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He groaned and rested his arms and forehead against the wall. “Because you used me!”

“Everyone uses everyone,” scoffed Siki. “You wanted to use me.”

“I did not!” he protested.

“You wanted to get up under my tail.”

Sarsuk flinched in disgust. “Ugh, no!”

“You did.”

“No, Siki,” he said, reopening his eyes, “I mean, can you not do that?”

The tiny mammal looked so innocent. “Do what?”

The krakun groaned softly. “If you could never say ‘get up under my tail’ again in my presence, I’d appreciate it.”

She laughed hard, her ears pulled from her shoulders. Palani even looked over from the back of the lab. “Why? What’s wrong with that? Are you a prude?”

“No, I’m not a prude,” insisted Sarsuk. “I’m sure if Nyakkat said that to me, I’d have liked it, but a geroo…”

She waited for him to continue. “Yeah?”

“It’s just… It’s gross, okay?”

“Okay, fine.” She rolled her eyes and told him to close his own. “I’ll try again.”

Siki cleared her throat. “I meant, you wanted to get in my bed.” Quieter, she asked, “That okay?”

The krakun sighed. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“You wanted to get into my bed,” the geroo repeated. “How’s that any different than me using you?”

Sarsuk leaned against the living room wall and banged it softly with a fist. “Well, for starters, going to bed together doesn’t harm anyone,” he explained. “No one gets robbed. No one gets arrested. No one gets executed.”

“I’m sorry about that. I had no idea that was going to happen,” she said earnestly. “It shouldn’t have. I thought you’d fired you or something.”

“And that’s okay?”

A pause. “Maybe not okay, no,” said Siki, “but comparatively, it’s not all that big a deal.”

He slid to the floor and rested his chin on his arms. “Well, it would have been a big deal to me.”

The two sat in silence, and Sarsuk wondered if that had been the end of the game. She surprised him though. “Yeah, but that’s not why you’re so upset at me.”

He shouldn’t have answered. His thoughts were none of the little creature’s business, but they just fell out, “No, that was because you made me care about you and think that maybe you cared about me too.”

He opened his eyes and the two shared a silent moment.

“That’s really the heart of it, isn’t it, Sarsuk? You feel like nobody cares about you.”

He turned away. “What, like you do?”

She shrugged. “I’ll be honest, Sarsuk. You don’t make that easy. I’d have liked to see you with Nyakkat, because it’s not your nature to let someone get close.”

His cheeks burned, and he held back a sniffle. “Could…” he whispered. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Would you mind not looking at me right now?”

“Yeah, okay,” said Siki. She turned about in her chair to face the far wall. “If you’ll keep on talking to me.”

He moaned. “What do you want me to say?”

She raised two open palms. “Tell me why you’re so lonely.”

That was a stupid question. She’d already concluded that he didn’t let people in. “Because I’ve got nobody, no friends, no mate,” he said. He wished he could wipe his eyes.

For a moment, he thought again about Nokevti, how much he regretted that they didn’t become something more. “The previous gal I had feelings for turned out to be a one-night-stand, and she left before I even got a chance to say how really great it had been.”

Without turning, Siki asked, “You don’t have friends?”

“Not really, no.”

“Your coworkers?”

Sarsuk sighed and rested his chin once more. “I don’t really work with anyone. Each commissioner runs a bunch of ships, but we only get together for meetings once in a while.” He chuckled sardonically. “Then, it’s just Saqqadr yelling at us. We don’t really talk amongst ourselves all that much.”

“Well, you have to be talking to someone,” said Siki, resting an elbow on the table beside her. “You don’t sit at a computer and press buttons all day.”

“Well, slaves.” She shot him an angry glare over her shoulder. “I mean… I talk to the geroo, the captains of my ships.”

Though her fur still bristled, she turned away to give him his privacy, grumping softly. “You’re not friends with any of them?”

He threw up his claws. “That’s not really the sort of relationship we have.” He explained, “It’s my job to keep them under control, to punish them when they screw up. They’re not going to send me holiday cards, you know?”

She glanced his way for only a moment. “What about your family?”

“No.”

“Neighbors?”

“Not so much.”

She turned her seat half-way back. “Anyone else you came into contact with on a regular basis?”

He shrugged, helplessly, avoiding her eyes. “Well, there’s my cleaning crew.”

He slapped his forehead hard. Why did that pop out?

“Tell me about them,” said the geroo.

He thought about the note from Suni, the one Kanti had held up for him to read. “I… I think I’d rather not.”

———

Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/19E6tZHBa_lOEe7xA7B1Q56HQ9nT5xmPRzeUjSbHhUsA/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?