Fayed 1 (Patreon)

For six months, I've been wondering what I should write for the next HC Anthology. I've finally got a plan, but would love some feedback.

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Usmu’s long ears frowned low, and her dark blue eyes stared at her paws. She knew she’d have this conversation sooner or later but was hoping for later—much later.

Across the dinner table, the administrator cleared his throat to get her attention. She glanced at him for only a moment. “I’ve received reports that you have two sons, but according to my records…”—he tapped his strand, trying unsuccessfully to bring her attention to the small screen—“you’ve only received a single birth token.”

Usmu looked back up. Her pelt was a light tan, and her cream belly extended in a triangle that pointed to her chin. “Look, this is a really long story,” she explained, “and the captain’s gonna wanna hear it. You should call him now, so I don’t have to repeat it.”

The administrator rolled his eyes. “Handling the flow of birth tokens is our primary job as company administrators. There’s no need to bother Captain Koli with this.”

Two hours later, Captain Koli sat beside the administrator. White hairs spread throughout the captain’s dark pelt, leaving him with a perpetually “dusty” appearance. In a sweet baritone, he asked, “You conceived a second cub, despite having only one birth token in the lottery?”

“No, I adopted Fayed about the time my first son was weaned.”

“What an unusual name,” said Koli casually as he sipped the tea she’d given him. “But there’s nothing wrong with adopting a cub. You don’t need to spend a birth token just to raise someone else’s—”

She interrupted him with, “I adopted Fayed aboard Gemini Station IV.”

When the captain spit his tea, she added, “Accidentally.”

Captain Koli stood and wiped his face with a paw. He planted his fists against the aluminum table and leaned in, looming over the smaller geroo. “But nobody left the ship when we visited Gemini Station!” he growled.

“I did,” she admitted without looking him in the eyes. “On Commissioner Gurijovok’s instructions, of course.”

The captain sank slowly back into his seat, and she explained, “When they sent the shuttle over to receive our excess agricultural supplies, they took me back to the station. That gave me three hours to perform an exchange for the commissioner before the shuttle returned with Gemini Station’s half of the trade.”

“Oh, that sneaky bastard!” shouted Captain Koli as he banged his fist on the table. His teacup rattled. “I wondered why the station refused to trade in a single trip, sending their supplies and then us refilling the empty shuttle. They said that they didn’t trust us enough. Hells, I was shocked that the commissioner even let us make a trade.”

He rubbed his face with a palm, grumbling. “What did the commissioner want you to trade?”

“Lio sovereigns,” said Usmu quietly, “for krakun golds.”

The captain’s eyes opened wider. “Where did that vile lizard get enemy currency?”

She shrugged. “Lots of them have it, apparently,” explained Usmu. “Military commanders loot sovereigns when they raid lio outposts, but since there’s no official trade between the krakun and lio, the only way to convert them is to go to a neutral station.”

“Which is the last place a military commander can go without raising suspicion,” he filled in for her.

Usmu nodded. “So, until someone makes the trip, the money kinda circulates as bribes—like a shadow economy.”

Koli leaned on his elbows. “And you thought, ‘While I’m here, I might as well adopt that cub I’ve always wanted’?”

She shook her head energetically. “Like I said, it was an accident. I’d just finished making the trade, and I was working my way back to the docks when a run-about nearly ran over my tail.”

The electric vehicle’s rubber wheels squealed against the stone roadway, and people of all shapes and sizes screamed. Usmu had no idea what was going on, but when everyone fled to the edges of the wide passageway, their absence left her rear half exposed.

She’d just barely raised her thick tail in time when the red runabout sped by, the soft hairs on her tail’s underside rustled by the wind. She hugged the tail to her chest and shook a fist at the rapidly receding vehicle. “You maniacs!” she shouted. “You could have killed someone!”

But looking down-road, only five meters beyond her, she saw that not everyone had moved quickly enough. A small shape lay in a dirty puddle, motionless.

“Shit!” Usmu shouted as she scrambled closer. “Hey, hey, are you all right?” she whispered.

The tiny creature didn’t respond. Since arriving on the station, Usmu had seen a few of these creatures—perhaps thirty centimeters in height, with large round ears, and bottom-heavy curves like a geroo but with much smaller legs—though none had dressed as fancy. The diminutive female before her wore necklaces of small, white beads around both of her ankles. She had white, ruffled arm garters tucked almost into her armpits and a fancy bow made of similar fabric tied to the base of her tail.

Though oily puddle water seeped into the clean, white cloth now, just as bright red blood seeped into the light grey fur on the side of her face.

“Hey, you’re going to be okay. Stay with me,” said Usmu as she pulled her strand free from her shoulder holster. She quickly dialed 999, but the error on the screen said it could find no network. Of course, not! The geroo had designed their communicators to work with her ship’s network, not whatever system the space station used.

With ears low in worry, she looked about. “Help! Call nine-nine-nine!” she shouted, but the crowds were shuffling around them now, everyone looking away, intentionally refusing to meet her eyes. Usmu was dumbfounded. This would never happen back on her own ship. Everyone in the vicinity would drop what they were doing to make sure a wounded crewman got timely help. No one would ever walk away, afraid to get involved.

She turned back in time for the creature’s green eyes—though the sclera of one was bloodshot bright red now—to meet her own. In a quiet voice, the little female said, “Fayed,” and then, a moment later, her posture relaxed and her eyes turned glassy. She moved no more.

“No, no, no, no,” whispered the geroo, “don’t die…”

Then, not knowing what else to do, Usmu lowered her head and began to pray. “Honored parents and parents of my parents,” she whispered, “in a chain unbroken, like the necklaces we wear, leading us all the way back home.”

With her fingertips, she covered the dead gal’s eyes, so they wouldn’t stare. At last, she whispered, “Good journey.”

Fayed? What did that mean? Did that mean “help” in her language? she wondered. Well, it hardly mattered now. The little creature was likely past saving, and though she worried how the gal’s next-of-kin might learn about her death, she had to concede that it wouldn’t be her problem. In half-an-hour’s time, the shuttle would depart with traded goods. She had to be on it when it left, or she’d be trapped here, stranded among these awful, apathetic, minding-their-own-business aliens for the rest of her days.

Naturally, that’s when the cloth bundle clutched in the gal’s tiny arms spilled open, revealing the pink, hairless form of a squirming newborn.

Usmu gasped, and once more, she looked about for help. “Please, someone, she has a cub!” the geroo announced, twice as desperate now. But once more, no one stopped, no one paused, no one looked her way.

Usmu understood Krakun, and she knew Geroo, but so far, she’d yet to encounter anyone in this hollowed-out asteroid that spoke it. She’d yet to see any of her own kind.

She recognized a few of the many species of aliens aboard Gemini Station, and when she did, she’d been able to type a message into her strand and ask it to translate to what they spoke, but with the exception of shopkeepers and dock workers, she hadn’t been able to get anyone to even look at the screen. Usmu had never felt so isolated.

Everyone around them was content to mind their own business, and would surely leave the cub to die in its mother’s arms. She presumed that the station’s authorities would take care of the body eventually, but would the infant get help in time? Someone was liable to step on the tiny thing without even realizing it was there, if it didn’t expire of cold or hunger first.

She had to do something!

Usmu put her paws around the body, preparing to scoop the newborn up with the bloody remains of its mother, but she paused.

And then what? she asked herself. Are you going to stumble around from shop to shop, demanding someone help you? She winced. She didn’t know where the police could be stationed, and if she found some, it seems unlikely that they’d speak her language. She was pressed for time as it was, and if they insisted on questioning her, well, any delay was liable to make her miss her flight…

As much as she worried about the death of an innocent, she refused to let circumstances separate her from her mate and son!

“Shit,” she cursed one final time. Then whispered, “Please forgive me for this act of kindness,” and scooped the pink thing into her pouch.

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1HVw3SOYBpolUWqjxgjejvrLd0cxqwmp95N2dmu-iFHU/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?