PART I: A CAT WITHOUT A GRIN

Chapter 2: The Pool of Tears ... In Which Alice Discovers She is the Cat

As Moc'tut approached the drop ship, his trophies rattling against his body and some kind of... thing over his shoulder, Mat'ha blinked behind his visor with surprise. The over-eager young blood was an endless source of amusement, but this was truly strange. Tilting his head to the side, Mat'ha rumbled at the young hunter as he ascended the gangway.

"What is that?" Mat'ha trilled, pointing at the... thing. According to his visor, it had a heat signature and was clearly some sort of animal, but all he could see was its hind quarters at the moment.

"Ooman," Moc'tut proclaimed, stopping to hike the body into a better position on his shoulder. "Female," he added pointedly, his voice clearly prideful.

Mat'ha waited for further explanation, but when none appeared to be forthcoming, he growled, "What in Paya's name did you bring it back here for?"

"Make a good pet out of it," Moc'tut replied.

"A... pet," the honored warrior repeated, just to be certain he'd heard right. Memory stirred, but he kept his voice even.

Faltering, Moc'tut trilled questioningly, "Are they not rare and difficult to acquire?"

"Yes...," Mat'ha allowed. "They are also dirty creatures. Why would you want one?"

Puffing his chest, the newly blooded hunter replied, "I'll clean it up. It is certain to impress the females, don't you think?"

Grateful the visor hid his relief and amusement, Mat'ha nodded and said, "Right. That is... a good plan."

Satisfied, Moc'tut all but strutted into the loading bay of the drop ship. Mat'ha chuffed quietly with mirth as he followed, engaging the mechanism that closed the gangway behind him. Maybe he'd done similar asinine things as a pup, but none advised him otherwise. He saw no reason to educate Moc'tut on the matter. There were many things the elder would never speak of with anyone, no matter the temptation. This was one of those things. Let the fool learn on his own, as Mat'ha had.

The hunting party's medic was an elder who had, up to this moment, believed he'd seen it all. While oomans were not exactly a common sight, they were not unheard of, either. Seeing one in Moc'tut's possession was certainly a novelty. More shocking yet was that it was female.

Did this posturing pup draw a line anywhere? Cheh'shi now knew the answer was no.

At least the idiot put it down relatively carefully. It was a limp thing, completely incapacitated, but still alive. Cheh'shi decided the obvious question needed to be asked.

Pointing at the ooman, he glared at Moc'tut and growled, "What is this for?"

"I'm taking it with me," Moc'tut clicked impatiently. "Check it for parasites... diseases... whatever it is you look for. I will keep it as a pet."

"You will?" the medic asked skeptically.

Moc'tut shrugged. "Mat'ha has seen it. He did not object."

Cheh'shi suspected the elder was more interested in watching the entertainment that was sure to come than he was in enforcing any 'no pets allowed' rules that might be in place.

Sighing with resignation, he affixed his most powerful and versatile visor over his face and began flicking through the spectrums, looking the ooman's body over from top to bottom in search of... well, anything, really. Moc'tut occupied himself by applying a mild sealant to the wound on his chest. Enough to close it and prevent infection, but not so much he erased the scar. It was his first true battle scar, and he was damned proud of it.

Removing the bag attached to the ooman's back, Cheh'shi handed it over to Moc'tut and resumed his examination. The young hunter shifted the bag in his hands a little, but didn't otherwise give it much more than a cursory look. His visor had already determined there were no weapons inside. He'd investigate the contents at his leisure later on. The medic detached a long bladed weapon from the ooman's hip and proffered it as well. Looking at this more closely, Moc'tut quickly decided that the blade was not sharp enough to present any real threat and set it aside with the bag.

"Well," Cheh'shi finally said, removing his visor, "it is as... clean as one can expect. No internal parasites; no kainde amedha implantation. A few indigenous external parasites; I removed those. No signs of infection. It would appear to be in relatively good health. Apart from being unconscious. Did you strike it?"

"No," Moc'tut hissed defensively. "I am an honorable hunter. I do not attack weak and sick animals."

"I only ask out of curiosity," Cheh'shi soothed. "I have not seen one remain in this state for quite so long."

"It is safe, then?"

"I believe so," Cheh'shi nodded. Eying the young hunter for a moment, he cautiously advised, "I would suggest you keep it from roaming, however."

Gathering up his pet and its things, Moc'tut hissed, "It will not roam, medic." Then he strode out of the room.

Shaking his head, Cheh'shi began securing his equipment for the pending launch that would take them back to the hunter ship orbiting around this gods-forsaken planet. He wondered how long it would be before Moc'tut regretted this rash move. Likely not long at all. It was concerning, to be sure, but not his place to interfere.

The feeling of being pressed hard into a flat surface for a few moments jogged Alice out of her stupor enough to begin taking in her surroundings. She vaguely recalled a few details after the... things... She pushed that away.

Start over, she thought, and cleared her head as best she could. It was almost uncomfortably warm and humid, she noted. Right. Must still be in the jungle. And at least alive enough to feel heat and moisture. Good.

Even with her eyes closed, she could detect a light source that seemed all around, but wasn't very bright. It was sort of... red, actually. Not exactly what one would expect of a jungle. Frowning, she dared to crack an eyelid open a smidgen. A dim reddish glow somehow managed to bleed through the thick mist surrounding her. Both eyes open now, she turned her head a bit to look around.

Near as she could tell, she was lying on the hard floor of a foggy... place. With red lighting. The air seemed a bit thick, like it would at a high altitude, but that could have been the dense fog. Listening, she realized everything was quiet, and slowly pushed herself to sit up.

The strange place was about the size of a half-way decent hotel room. Mist floated lazily up to about knee height, then the air seemed much more clear all the way to the ceiling. The walls seemed to emanate the strange reddish glow, and she noted there were markings all over them, reminiscent of pictographs. Putting her hands on the floor to help her stand, she halted and looked down. There was a fur skin underneath her of a color she couldn't begin to guess.

Memories began to return, and she seemed to recall briefly seeing... another creature like the one in the mask. Evidently her brain was occasionally checking the layout to ascertain whether consciousness was a good idea. More than one of the reptile-skinned humanoids was apparently sufficient argument in favor of playing opossum. Eyes flaring for a moment, she distinctly recalled being on a table with another of the masked critters leaning over her, bright lights in the ceiling... rather like a hospital...

Oh Jesus, is that when I got the anal probe? she wondered in a panic. Thank god I wasn't awake for that.

As her eyes adjusted to the surfeit of red, she realized it was just like a hotel room; there was a mother of a huge bed against one wall. Alice slowly dragged herself up to stand, leaning against the wall across from this monster bed. It was about four feet off the floor and at least ten feet long. A few very large animal pelts were thrown across it, but didn't look like they helped much. As a matter of fact, it wasn't a particularly comfortable-looking bed to begin with. More like a deep bench.

But... it was huge. She suddenly remembered, quite unwillingly at the moment, the very tall, burly male... whatever coming toward her...

"Son of a bitch," she muttered.

Thankfully, the room wasn't big enough to hide him, and there was no sign that anyone else was present. Hugging herself to keep from flying apart, she slowly shuffled in a circuit around the room, taking in her surroundings. Apart from the huge bed, there was what looked strangely like a toilet in a corner. Just like a prison cell. Approaching the odd addition, she was amazed how familiar it was in design. She wondered if this... male something or other put his pants on one leg at a time, too.

Her careful examination and experimental flush only served to inform her of the sudden desperate need to use the oversized commode as quickly as possible. Hoping to god nobody barged in on her, she christened the device with all haste.

Feeling a hundred times more confident with that out of the way, Alice continued her tour, finding a table with her backpack on it. Except her bag wasn't just sitting there, it was unzipped and empty next to the scattered contents.

The careless disregard for her personal things brought mixed emotions. On the one hand, she was rather angry that someone dicked with her stuff. On the other, she felt violated. Perhaps not in a sexual way, but in the sense that the things she owned, the only connection she had with home, held no value. Her privacy didn't appear to have much meaning, either.

Her throat constricted and she gripped herself tighter. Face it, she forced herself to think, that guy was an alien, so was the whatsis he killed. If you're extremely lucky, the worst thing that'll happen is that anal probe aliens are so fond of.

Not very encouraging. Climbing onto a chair next to the table, Alice gently touched each item, not disturbing where it lay. It might be an indigenous tribe's religious artifacts she was examining, rather than her own property. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she paid each one careful attention. There was her digital voice recorder, a notebook and pens. A couple pairs of boxer shorts and a sports bra, because you never know what might happen in the jungle, and momma always said, wear clean underwear. Flashlight and extra batteries. Half a dozen energy bars. A hairbrush. Nothing ransacked or torn to pieces, just spread out. Poked at. Invaded.

Her movements were slow as she undid the coil of her hair at the back of her head, letting the long, straight brown length flow down her back. Then she picked up the hairbrush and put it to use with a shaking hand.

She didn't know how long she sat there, staring at the wall and brushing her hair in a daze. After awhile, she realized there was a humming sort of vibration coming up through the floor, with a faint humming sound to go along with it. Sort of like an engine on a really high end car. Nothing annoying, but something easily ignored if you were on the verge of panic and weren't looking for it.

Was this her prison cell, then? At least she was still dressed. Taking a quick feel, she noted with relief that her pants were still intact in the back. Just because she had no ass pain didn't mean an anal probe hadn't happened.

Well, if this was her cage, someone better give her some water. She was not going to drink out of the toilet.

On the other hand, if that big guy was her jailor... She shuddered. Now that she was beginning to calm down, more details of the encounter came to mind, one of which was the massive claws he had on his fingers. While he wore a bit of protective armor, it seemed most of his body was bare, his skin reptilian. Hadn't she seen sea turtles with similar textures and coloration on their flippers?

Great, she grumped with an ironic grimace, I've been kidnapped by a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

If that was the case, maybe his face wouldn't be so terrifying.

Even as she thought that, a panel in one wall that had gone unnoticed before suddenly swished open and her captor returned. Tensing all over, she scooted quickly to the corner she'd woken up in and dropped to the floor, hugging her knees and staring wide eyed.

He was at least seven feet tall, thickly muscled, and if she was any judge, pissed beyond reason.

The armor and mask he wore were slightly different from what she'd seen before, but there was no mistaking his skin's coloration. It was the same one. A steady stream of clicking, growling and snarling came from behind the mask, slightly muffled but no less threatening. She tried to make herself even smaller.

With violently jerking motions, he nearly tore a damaged piece of armor from his shoulder and sent it flying across the room. The shoulder guard bounced off the wall and dropped straight into the toilet.

Evidently, this was not the intended outcome, for the male threw his head back and roared so loudly, Alice cringed and held her ears. Then he strode to the toilet and kicked it as hard as he could.

This only served to rile him up to even greater heights of pissed, because now he had pain on top of whatever was infuriating him so completely. More roaring erupted, then he bent down, fished out the piece of armor, and flung it into another corner of the room.

Right at Alice. She yelped as she covered her head with both arms.

The room suddenly went quiet except for that strange churring noise she'd heard him make in the jungle. Dear god, he sounds like Perry the Platypus, she thought wildly. Slowly, she parted her arms and looked up.

His shoulders were rising and falling rapidly with his heavy breathing, but at least he wasn't throwing anything else around. He was, however, looking straight at her.

Trembling under the blank stare of that damned mask, she looked at his hands. He was slowly balling them into fists and releasing the tension, over and over. The claws were indeed long and horrifyingly dangerous-looking. Then he huffed and reached up to remove his mask.

She couldn't look away as he unhooked a couple of tubes and gripped the mask with both hands. I'm about to find out he's no effing turtle, she realized.

The mask revealed a face... if she had any doubts she was captured by aliens, they were thoroughly answered now. A slight gasp leaped out of her mouth and she cringed even closer to the wall. The creature had a very large forehead with a bony sort of crown from which those odd tubular appendages extended. In fact, the dome of his head most resembled a horseshoe crab's shell, oddly enough. His brow seemed rigid, devoid of the musculature that enabled a primate to express its emotions. Deeply set in his face, his eyes seemed to glow an orangish yellow. The mouth, though... It was like a cross between a preying mantis's mandibles and a crab's legs. Two tusked appendages emerged from what she took to be his cheekbones. Between them, an upper 'lip' stretched over a small mouth containing far sharper teeth than she was comfortable seeing on display. Hugging the chin was a larger pair of mandibles, folded upward like a pair of tiny arms, also bearing tusks.

Tilting his head first one way than another, he stared back unblinking. She wondered if he even had eyelids. Jerking his chin forward, he made a series of weird clicking sounds that involved a mandibular tapdance in front of his vicious teeth. If he was actually speaking, she had no way to know. All she could contribute to the conversation was a barely audible squeak. Then he suddenly bent at the knees, thrust his body forward, spread his clawed hands in a clear bring it on! pose and roared at her, mandibles spreading open, mouth widening to show a very strange-looking throat...

Her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped sideways on the floor.

Blinking, Moc'tut straightened and tilted his head in confusion. If his pet was once more taking this posture, he must have misread the challenge such prolonged eye contact would have otherwise indicated. But then, he was pretty touchy at the moment. He'd just spent the last hour getting repeatedly pummelled in the kehrite by Qu'art. Bad enough he couldn't seem to get the upper hand with the larger male, but add to it the constant insults of Moc'tut's performance in the chiva... even implying it was the ooman who downed the kainde amedha, not him!

Considering the limp pile it lay in at the moment, such an idea was worse than laughable.

Something odd caught his eye, and he approached the ooman warily. The wad of fur on its head had, for some reason, grown the length of his forearm in a short time. Curious, he squatted next to it and touched the dark mane. It wasn't like any pelt he'd touched before, though his experience was limited. Now that he'd completed his chiva, he would be able to roam at will, hunting and collecting trophies, accumulating exotic goods for the benefit of his clan, seeing wonders he'd only heard stories of... But for now, he had to make it back to the clan ship and sit through the final blooding ritual ushering him into adulthood. Something he would not get to enjoy if that pauk-de Qu'art kept catching him off guard, shattering his equipment, taking unfair advantage, and essentially being a total s'yuit-de.

Feeling himself getting riled up again, Moc'tut gathered his pet in his arms and deposited it on the bed. Grumbling to himself, he removed the remainder of his armor and just tossed the training plates on the floor, disgusted and not at all interested in treating them with any kind of respect at the moment. Then he climbed onto the bed and leaned back against the wall. Making himself as comfortable as he could, he dragged the ooman closer, put its head on his leg, and stroked its mane. All the while, he continued to expore his opinion of Qu'art with a steady stream of expletives.

The stroking gradually served to coax Alice from her stupor. It was actually quite soothing, feeling a firm hand running from the top of her head to the ends of her hair midway down her back. Until she realized there was only one person she knew of who might be doing it. Her eyes blinked open and she saw... crotch.

Thankfully, crotch modestly covered by leather and a sort of metallic codpiece, but unmistakably male crotch regardless. She went rigid and darted her eyes around without twitching or otherwise moving the rest of her body. Her head was resting on his thigh, which was damn near as hard as a rock. She could actually feel the texture of his pebbly skin under her cheek. He'd pulled her body up against his leg within easy reach. While one hand fiddled with her hair, the other waved about wildly in the manner of someone having a really animated discussion.

Except... there was no one else there. His mouth and mouth... parts were working like crazy, too. She could almost make out words amongst the growling, hissing, chattering, clicking, and snarling, but the only one that kept getting repeated was something that sounded a lot like 'pock.'

The whole situation was disturbing, and she continued to stare up at him in disbelief. If she didn't know better, she would think he was telling her how rotten his day had been.

You've had a rotten day? she thought. Honey, don't get me started.

But even worse than that realization was the familiarity of the scenario. She'd sat in his position so many times, petting her cat, venting her spleen about some indignity or slight. She'd believed in the way of most humans that, as long as there was something alive in the room, you weren't insane when you talked to yourself. Like when she'd done it back home, this alien wasn't looking at her or otherwise indicating in any way that he was seeking or expecting a response.

Gradually, in an almost predictable way, the aggression in his posture and vocalizations began to diminish as he stroked her hair – petted her, she realized with indignation – and he calmed before her eyes.

Holy crap. She was his pet. And he was so god damned big, so freaking alien, so completely not human... Alice felt tears stinging her eyes, but she was afraid to move or make any sound at all.

It hit her hard, then. She wasn't going home. She would never go home. This... creature took a liking to her like an exotic animal fancier would a chimpanzee or a monkey... hell, she was Curious George and he was the Man with the Yellow Hat. With just as little regard for her freedom as in that silly children's tale. Anger at him flared for a moment, then died as she grasped the cruel irony.

Humans did exactly the same thing. They labeled it 'conservation' or 'species preservation'... any number of phrases meant to mask their own guilt in the matter, but the end result was the same. Animals taken from their natural habitats and put in cages, be they zoos or labs. It no longer looked to her like such a huge favor they'd done those creatures, now that the shoe was on the other foot. Whatever motivated this alien to capture her, whatever plans he had for her, be they benign or nefarious – and she still wasn't ruling out anal probing at this point – she had a whole new perspective to dwell on.

Not that it mattered. She'd never make it back home to spread the word or change the perceptions of her peers. Blinking, she felt hot tears fall down her cheek onto his thigh.

Terms:

kehrite = training hall
pauk-de = fucker
s'yuit-de = coward, pathetic, demeaning description of someone or something