The streets of Cavatera were lit by electric lamps on tall posts. There was not much in the way of advanced technology here, but only because the locals preferred it that way. I certainly didn't mind – I tend to avoid the really big cities, with their skyscrapers and flashing lights and flying cars. I don't understand how anyone can live in those places. The people of Cavatera, however, managed to use technology in moderation, collecting sunlight with great shining trays called solar panels to power their machines. I don't know exactly how they manage this, but then again all electric machines are strange to me. That's what I told Jack when he asked me how the lamps worked.
We came to the Inn of the Covered Cart, where I had stayed the last time I had passed through the town. I arranged for two rooms and some dinner for each of us before we went into the common room, which was a lot cleaner, quieter and more pleasant than the one we had met in.
It was also unusually empty, even for this time of night. Last time I had been here the place had been fairly crowded, but there were only a few other patrons in the room besides ourselves. Jack and I took a table in the corner. I noticed that he was peering uneasily around the room.
"What is it?" I asked.
"The inn is run by giant talking cats!" he exclaimed in a near-whisper.
"You've never seen Fyleans before? Most of the inhabitants of this town are Fylean immigrants. They're perfectly decent people. Nicer than most humans I've met, really." I didn't understand the reason for his distress. "Don't call them 'cats' to their faces, though. They don't like it."
"I am sorry, I just…I expected that it would be a human town." He shook his head, as if trying to clear it.
I felt like laughing, but that would have been nasty. "Yeah, most extra-terrestrials either stick around the spaceports or live in the middle of nowhere. The Fyleans are an exception. But they're not the only ones." I sighed. "I should have told you first, I guess."
He looked up at me with a puzzled expression. "What does 'extra-terrestrial' mean?" I was surprised by the question. He had obviously done a lot of traveling – how could he not know what it meant?
"Terra is another name for Earth. 'Extra-terrestrial' means 'not from Earth.' It's a lot politer than 'aliens.'" Jack seemed to be calming down now.
"I should have expected it," he grumbled. "There are talking dogs, after all."
That made no sense whatsoever. "What's so weird about talking dogs?" I asked. "They all talk. But the Fyleans are extra-terrestrials and the dogs aren't." I wondered if I were really having this conversation or just dreaming it. It was completely ridiculous.
Jack looked utterly confused for a moment, then he put his hand over his face in frustration. "Never mind," he sighed.
It was odd – every time I learned something about him, he only became more of a puzzle to me. But it wasn't frustrating at all. It was…
My train of thought was interrupted as a maid walked up to our table, graceful as a dancer, holding a tray in her hands. Her simple dress of brown, white and black complimented her short calico fur. The tip of her tail peeked out from under the hem.
"One venison and salad, one vegetable stew and two mugs of spiced ciderr." She placed the orders on the table before us, as well as a loaf of freshly baked bread on a cutting board. Jack thanked her politely – I guess manners were manners to him, species differences or no - and so did I. Usually I don't bother when I'm on my own, but he seemed to be rubbing off on me a bit. The waitress dipped a polite curtsey and flitted off.
I started slicing the loaf of bread. Jack took the spoon from his vegetable stew, wiped it off with his napkin and put it on the table. Then he took the pair of little wooden chopsticks from a pocket in the sleeve of his robe and used those to pick out individual vegetables from the broth. I decided that it would not be prudent to comment upon this, and started eating my own dinner. The knife and fork felt sort of awkward in my hands.
The strangeness of it all – the recent conversation and everything else – was so overwhelming that I could barely taste the food I was eating. Jack seemed to be affected by it as well, for he was even more subdued than usual. I felt the same uncomfortable feeling that I had the previous evening, after the incident with the map. I remembered how he had not-looked at the remains of the islands he had drawn. He was not-looking at the table in that same way now. It almost drove me crazy.
After dinner (which seemed to take forever), we went up to the corridor where our rooms were located, on opposite sides of the hall. "If you get up before I do tomorrow morning, please wake me," I told him. "We can go looking around the market after breakfast – there's always a caravan leader in need of guards, so…" I faltered. Why was I assuming that he would go by my plans?
But, to my immense relief, he nodded in agreement. I bid him good night and took my room key out of my trouser pocket. I was about to open the door when he spoke.
"Ketiya, I…there is something I wish to tell you." I turned around, my insides stretched tight as a bowstring. From the tone of his voice, I knew that whatever it was couldn't be good. "I did not think it was a good idea before, but…I feel that I cannot avoid it now. If you choose to travel with me, you may be putting yourself in danger…" He looked from one end of the corridor to the other, then opened the door to his room. He stepped through the door and turned to look at me. Puzzled, and more than a little anxious, I followed him into the room.
He was obviously wary of eavesdroppers – he opened the wardrobe and the window, to look into the former and out the latter, then shut the window again and checked under the bed. I took a last look into the corridor to make sure that nobody was there. All clear. I closed the door behind me and locked it.
"You may want to sit down," Jack suggested, gesturing to the room's only chair. I obliged, keeping my eyes fixed on him the whole time. He stood in front of the chair, clasped his hands before him and lowered his eyes. Trying to find the best way to say it. At last, he looked up at me again. "I should have told you this before…"