I was pretty well screwed.
In my Na'vi body, I had a fair set of muscles. As a regular geeky human, who honestly didn't exercise as much as he should, I didn't have a chance against Shark Boy.
And so I ran, faster than I had ever done in my life.
Guess who I smacked into.
No, really. Guess.
There, obstructing my path, was Snake.
The first thing out of his mouth was, "Hey, what the hell?"
And then I bowled him over.
As I lay awkwardly sprawled on top of him, he gave me this wide eyed indignant glare, like the incident with the car was nothing compared to the violence he intended to inflict upon me now.
But then I looked over my shoulder, and, once his eyes darted that way, his expression turned a one eighty.
"Oh my God!" He shoved me onto the floor, pulling a gun.
The first shot went through the creature's forehead just seconds before it leapt at him, blades flashing.
Snake fired again, using the momentum of the bullet to knock the beast down.
Standing over the body, he aimed his gun, firing again and again, like a person trying to kill a spider that keeps twitching and crawling away after you squish it the first time.
To be fair, that's exactly what it was doing.
He fired until the gun clicked empty.
Once breathing a little more calmly, he turned to me and said, "Don't ever do that again!"
I only shrugged. "What."
He frowned. "Get your pasty white ass over to that orientation meeting!"
I didn't argue. I hurried to the meeting room, nervously expecting more of those invisible things to pop out of nowhere at any given minute.
The usual crowd. Upper level employees in business casual, all of which I had seen as mushroom planters.
Gary gave the same lecture as before, showed the picture of the pig snouted Na'vi, explained the danger.
Despite my experiences with alien mind melds, I still agreed that a dreadlock bond with one of those pig monsters was bad news.
The comment about wild dogs from Pandora attacking people on earth went way over my head.
Despite all the time traveling and fighting, it was the same mission briefing. We had to restore the U.S. Bank building back to working order.
Gary mentioned the NASLOR and Runbis companies. When I was alone by myself trying to field calls, I encountered this NASLOR organization, and had a nice long chat about how everyone was dead and everything.
Their response: Stay off the system. Leave the calls to the professionals.
Later on, though, when they saw how well I performed, and how many of their buddies were dying, they begged me to do their calls. Them and Runbis.
"Tier 1 employees will field calls for Nomock, Vilrup Corp and Talpux. Tier 2 will transfer over to Facility B once contact with the other department is established. Tier 3 will accompany Vincent in reconnaissance, securing the facility. It's not as exciting as it sounds."
I had direct experience with all these companies now, but I still found Tier 3 the most thrilling. At least, more thrilling than Tier 1, which, I supposed, I must be.
Lisa came forward with her papers, listing off team assignments.
Knowing where this was going to lead, I marched over to Necel and stood there, waiting to be called.
"It appears you have received the memo," it muttered to me.
"Yeah. I guess you're my interim boss or something, right?"
It nodded, offering me its tail. I shook it.
I frowned at the boss's skirt. "Can I ask you something?"
"I...suppose?"
Not caring one bit about tactfulness at this point, I blurted, "What sex are you?"
He stared at me in shock, blinking several times. A pair of fins popped out the sides of his ears. "I do not see why this is any of your concern."
"It concerns me. Because if I want to talk to you properly, I need to know whether to address you as a sir or ma'am."
His fins did that rattling thing the spitter dinosaur does on Jurassic Park. "My kind require three sexes to produce offspring. Because of this third party, I cannot describe myself as male or female. You will properly address me as `Y'nar', or `Nar Necel', and in conversation with coworkers, I strongly advise you to use the pronoun ``na' in place of he or she, `num for his or hers."
"Oh...kay."
"You do not want to know what that means in my language."
I was pretty certain I did, but I didn't say it. I was already on his bad side.
Oh. Wait. Num bad side.
Neecel waved a tail to the exit. "Juz. I'll show you to the floor."
I followed `na to the little room full of tall drums that I had spent so many hours inside, got shown my Tivsok.
"Great," I muttered. "So when do they let us wear polos and slacks like the other guys?"
`Na stared at me. "Why would you want to wear slacks?"
I rolled my eyes. "Because they're comfortable, and you don't have to worry about things hanging out when you move the wrong way."
Necel looked genuinely confused. "I'm...sorry?"
"Never mind," I groaned.
Necel opened a drum, gesturing me to come closer to view its contents.
I gave it a bored glance. "Hamster cage with a desk. Got it."
"You seem...oddly familiar with the company and its equipment, yet I've never seen you before."
I smirked. "Yeah. I get that a lot."
Necel frowned. "Hopefully you are less brusque when dealing with our customers."
I raised an eyebrow. "Don't you mean, `will be'?"
`Na shook num head. Yeah, that sentence construction hurts my soul, too. "I genuinely believe you may have worked for a similar operation in the past. I can only hope that you were more pleasant in your business transactions."
"I think I have a class to go to," I muttered.
Looking displeased, `na just gave me a nod and waved me out.
I didn't care. `Na would only manage me for a short time before Dennis the Menace took over.
I hurried back to my classroom, and found myself being subjected to a lecture I'd previously never heard, due to getting lost in the hallways the first time.
"You doubtless have been informed about various legal changes on America regarding marriages between two people of the same sex, or a man and a child, or an animal. According to our policies, all such marriages are accepted as valid under the spousal law contact guidelines. Your language translators will provide adequate communication with hundreds of different animals.
"If you see any bruises or welts on any child you speak to, do not comment on it. As in situations involving same gender couples in the United States, DOGOS takes a stance of respectful distance when it comes to matters of culture and social practice, including physical and sexual quote-unqoute `abuse'. It is merely an American-like progressive policy."
I found this idea both appalling and disgusting, but I had signed a contract that basically preventing me from working anywhere else, and, even at Sprint, we already had recognized gay marriage `spouses' when handling calls, so it wasn't much of a stretch. Rightness of those `unions' didn't matter to the company, just the amount of dollars collected. If a dog, or even a baby could legally pay on a bill...whatever. I wasn't sure how to alert the police on an alien planet, anyway.
A few people got upset and argued with the instructor, but `na just shrugged and said it was an official company policy that he had no control over.
People walked out. Judging by the fact I'd never seen their heads exploded by fungus, I assumed they had made themselves scarce somehow, officially boycotting DOGOS.
We got into the body of Vuembi's lecture on spousal permission on this and that planet. It was odd how he carefully avoided mentioning the pets and children law for the rest of the lecture
I sat next to the spiky haired kid again. For good luck, I supposed.
I didn't bother to jot down notes, because I'd seen the stuff face to face a few times. I started spacing out.
Vuembi pointed at me. "Mr. Finch. Who is considered a right party contact on planet Bamragad?"
The guy had caught me off guard. For a moment, I just froze.
Thinking he had me, he waved a scolding finger. "Pay attention-"
I cut him off. "Anyone who tends their potting soil."
The instructor gawked at me. "...Yes. That is correct."
Ibira gave me a smile as she pulled into the seat next to me.
I smiled back, but it was pained. I loved her, but it could never be.
Vuembi lectured on postdated payments, and packets of paper got passed around.
As Ibira passed me one of the booklets, I gazed sadly into her eyes.
She responded by slowly tracing a line from the underside of her neck, down her flat chest, to her belly, then the strap between her legs, all the while using her other hands to pass and sign papers.
Vuembi cleared his throat in annoyance, mostly because I hadn't passed my papers to the next person yet.
Ibira's roving hand swooped up to the shoulder strap of her harness, giving the instructor a look that implied that she had done nothing unprofessional.
I quickly moved the papers on, signing what I was supposed to sign.
Ibira tried to play that prank where you tap a person and pretend you didn't, but I was expecting it. The moment her finger poked me, I grabbed her hand.
She grabbed mine and held it, giving me that warm smile again.
The more she did these things, the harder I found it to break up with her. Yet it had to be done somehow. To spare her life.
Following the paperwork, we went around the room introducing ourselves. Again.
I was glad to see these people not being fungus planters like they were before, and I was glad to at last refresh my memory on their names.
Ibira gave her usual speech, but then, after mentioning being separated from US Bank, she shocked me by pointing straight at me and adding, "Also, I am engaged to be married to the man over there."
I swallowed hard. "You are?"
My classmates laughed at my awkward response. I blushed.
Ibira's expectant gaze bore into me, making me blush more.
I gulped, nodding my head vigorously. "Yeah. We are engaged."
But I thought, What kind of wedding would this be? We can't consummate our union without it killing you.
Ibira returned to her seat.
"Let's have the groom-to-be come up here and introduce himself," Vuembi said. "I'm sure everyone will find this very interesting."
Yeah. Interesting, all right.
Interesting as in, how the hell was I going to explain my all my detailed knowledge of the company, when I technically never worked for them before, or how I managed to get engaged to a classmate that I shouldn't even know yet?
"Uh..." I swallowed. "I'm...Jason Finch. I, um, have a background in collections and customer service, and I, um, I'm a psychic. But it's a limited kind, so I can't read your minds or tell your future or anything."
There were chuckles and murmurs.
"Let's hope your talent translates into dollar amounts," Vuembi said with a wry smirk.
But then I saw a look of worriment cross his face. "So. I'm sure everyone is dying to know...how exactly did you and your...fiancee meet?"
I glanced nervously at Ibira. "I..."
"We met at PODS," she blurted. "We used to work together."
I nodded in agreement with the half truth.
"You're just full of surprises, Mr. Finch," the instructor said. Then he moved on to interview another classmate.
As I re-familiarized myself with my classmates, I realized that we didn't hang out that much. Although it was nice to refresh my memories on the lives of people I once had to cremate, we weren't that close. I'd give you all the details, but that is another story for another time.
When introductions concluded, we worked on computer stuff again.
Ms. Zia was behind my desk again, talking about the thirty eight sexual positions.
She actually did mention the zayqatihul leg lock.
Then, of course, Victor came in with the diapers. Because of the schedule adherence problem.
He offered one to me, but I just patted my pants and said, "Thanks, I'm good."
"Your species has inefficient bladder configurations," Ibira said to me. "Especially your females when they're pregnant."
Smirking, I joked, "I hope you remember that on our honeymoon. We might have to hit a few rest stops."
She stared. "You already thought that far ahead?"
"Why not? Anyways, I was just saying..."
Vuembi explained the diapers, told everyone to change.
"Go change," Vuembi said. "This will be your last fifteen minute break."
I was used to wearing them by now. Even after everybody died, I kept wearing them to avoid going downstairs, to avoid going to the public restroom, where all the corpses were. I left only to empty the liquids from mine.
When I returned Ibira remained in the desk adjacent to me, unlike before. This probably had something to do with me sticking my tongue in her mouth, and her already knowing full well that I loved the sight of her body.
Vuembi drilled us on the computer programs, the menus, the buttons.
Since I had spent so much time with such things, I quickly lost interest, gazing at my `fiancee' in between toggling screens. In fact, I could gaze without missing a step in Vuembi's instructions.
Ibira seemed similarly unchallenged, for while she ran through the program menus like a good little girl with two hands, her other hands were busy doing something suggestive and naughty.
One hand would run up the side of her thigh, plucking at the corner of her loin strap, or she would run a hand over her flat chest, or put a hand between her legs and squeeze them together. At another time, she would pantomime putting a ring on a finger, but then lick the finger like she were...licking something else.
Of course, when Vuembi started to notice any of this happening, she would use her other two hands to scribble notes on a notepad.
I also managed to `multitask' successfully. When the instructor came around, I faced my hologram, clicking the buttons like everyone else. I knew my stuff, so I just had to act busy for a moment until he moved on to the less skilled trainees.
Amused in such a way, the time got away from me. I was actually surprised when I heard Vuembi announcing that he would dismiss class for a few minutes, and get us fitted for uniforms.
Ibira tried to come with us to get measured, but Vuembi told her to stay put.
"I wish they'd make a...uniform for you," I told her with a grin. "You'd look hot."
She blushed. "You think so?"
I nodded. "You were hot in that PODS outfit. I think this might be a good look."
"Perhaps I shall request one, then."
I shrugged. "You don't have to do it just for me."
Ibira grinned. "Then I'll definitely ask for one."
I thought about discussing the engagement with her, but I didn't want to talk about the subject in a place where I'd be overheard and mocked.
I stepped outside to get measured.
"Vuembi already told me your size," Osmifa said in a low tone. "Would you like me to customize your outfit? I mean, you all have to wear the same type of uniform, but you have the option to add embellishments, patches, or pick a different color, if you want."
I frowned. "I want pants. Can I wear pants with these things?"
She chuckled. "You're really not supposed to, but if you want leggings or nylons or tights, I can get them for you."
"That's okay," I groaned. "What exactly can I customize?"
Osmifa showed me a catalog of uniform dresses on her little computer. Some were black, some had stripes running up the sides, they even had a cheetah print.
I scratched my head. "Why didn't you suggest this to me the last time I got fitted?"
"Last time I asked you if you ever wore a dress, or wanted to wear a dress, and you said no, so I didn't bother. Now I know for a fact you have frequently worn them. See anything you like?"
With a chuckle, I pointed to a green one, trimmed in white, with black leggings. "Looks like a Green Lantern prep school uniform."
"You want that one?"
I shook my head. "It's funny, that's all. How about that black one?"
She chuckled, clicking a button on the screen. "I'll see if I have approval for that one. You might have to wear pink leggings or something. I'll let you know."
I swallowed. "If I need the leggings, just get me the regular gray one."
Osmifa laughed. "Will do."
We returned to the class, studying alien currency. Since the concept still confused me from time to time, I paid the lesson extra careful attention.
At long last our training class got dismissed for the day. I emptied my diaper with a drainage hose in the bathroom, then marched to the cafeteria for dinner.
Vornok meat.
Again.
I resolved to find out more about this creature that we continually ate, devoured, and why it smelled like epoxy.
My `fiancee' came up to me, bearing her food and drink, her fourth hand self consciously straightening her leather harness. "Mind if I sit here?"
"Sure."
She did a silent alien prayer, sliced her Vornok meat.
"So," I said. "When did I propose to you?"
"Oh?" She took a bite. "The moment you stuck your tongue in my mouth, I believe."
When we played spin the bottle last time, that never happened. Why this meant a proposal, I did not know. "I...um..."
"Qozisa females propose to the male. I am sorry. I did not know you were unaware of this. Osmifa said you always intended to marry me, so I thought you wouldn't mind...You did agree, before a classroom full of witnesses, I might add..."
I scrunched up my face. "I...I suppose it's only right. But you don't seem to understand that my...stuff can kill you."
"Semen," she said. "You can say it."
I blushed furiously. "I'm sorry. This is just...I can't. I can't lose you. Not again."
She crossed her arms. "I'm not saying we have to have sex immediately. Perhaps if we just...get married, and wait, someone will develop a cure to...our little problem."
"That's like waiting for a cure to AIDS. There's no way you can cure that."
"There's always hope."
I shook my head. "Did I miss anything from coming in late to that meeting, or class?"
I should have known the answer to this, but I had forgotten.
"Rolmub policies on Kahico Reeheb and Sniawud, mostly..."
The same stuff, apparently. "Cool."
We ate in silence for a few moments.
"So," I said. "I met your dad. In the future. He was really...scary."
She giggled. "That he is."
"Especially since you were dead, and I was to blame."
"I'm surprised he didn't kill you."
"Me too."
"So..." she purred. "As soon as you finish eating, we can go downstairs into the caves, and tie the knot."
"What?" I cried in alarm. "Now?"
"You already getting cold feet?"
"Um..."
"Too bad. I imagine they've become quite impatient by now, waiting for us."
"Wait. What? Who is waiting for us?"
"Your Christian friends. Who else?"
"But you're not even a Christian," I blurted.
"I wasn't. But I've been talking to Osmifa, and, well, if I'm going to die anyway, I might as well get things in order."
She cleared her throat. "So."
She gestured to the hallway.
I stared at her in horror. "Oh Lord."
