I Was An Alien Cat Toy (14 page)

“He’s not a jopa!” Jilen shot Gredar a look for his interjection but he wished
she
would do her job and

point these things out herself.

Filwui only glanced at him. “Then how can I have damaged your property, Gredar? Either it’s a

stupid jopa and too trivial to be concerned about, or it’s intelligent and you have no case. I don’t remember

any orders. Ask Buhi if he does.”

“Buhi?” Jilen turned to her son. “Did Gredar order you not to touch his pet?”

“No, Mother. He told me how to look after it, but it started to act crazy so I was scared to go near it.”

“Because you hurt it and frightened it,” Wilna said quietly. At least one of his sisters was taking

T’meen’s side, Gredar thought.

“It wasn’t me, it was Filwui!”

Filwui sprawled back and looked at Gredar’s nephew. “Tut tut, Buhi. You’re old enough to accept

responsibility for your own actions.”

Gredar looked at his mother, pleading. Filwui was making a mockery out of the whole proceedings.

“Enough,” she growled. “Filwui, I don’t believe you for a moment when you say Gredar didn’t tell you to

leave his pet alone. But regardless, you brought wild animals to his room in his absence and without explicit

permission and thus put everyone here in danger, and you most certainly violated my orders that the pet was

to be kept safe. Buhi, you heard those from me directly, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Grandmother.” Buhi’s voice was barely audible.

“And was Filwui aware of them? Did you tell him?”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Little liar,” Filwui said. He was no longer sprawling, perhaps finally aware of the danger.

Gredar’s mother bared her teeth, her ears flattened almost down to her skull. “That’s two of my

family you’ve insulted today, Filwui. I suggest you don’t repeat the offence.” She leaned over to Jilen, and

all the females began a whispered conference together.

At Gredar’s side, T’meen was shivering more violently, probably upset by all the shouting and threat

postures. Gredar hugged him close to him, and wished he was closer to Filwui so he could hit him with a

clawed hand—it was all he deserved. He wished he could explain what was going on to T’meen, but maybe

that would only make things worse, hearing Filwui’s lies.
Bad blood.
Filwui’s father must have been a rogue

male. His mother, Atrin, had been nothing like this.

Finally the surat broke apart and his mother spoke. “Filwui, Buhi, the offence against me and this

house is proven. Filwui, you are banned from here for a cycle. Buhi, you will sleep and work in the kitchen

when not employed, until snow melt.” Gredar opened his mouth but she glared him into silence. “As for the

offence against my son, I choose his word over yours, and I will allow him to decide the penalty.”

Gredar shut his mouth, and nodded. T’meen looked up at him, confused and worried. “Since the

greatest offence is to the huu-man, T’meen, I order that Filwui and Buhi apologise to him, here and now.”

Filwui exploded. “I won’t! Not to that paznit thing!”

“You would prefer to be banned from the settlement itself?” Jilen asked, her tail swishing. “Third

offence against my family in this room. If you don’t want your throat torn out, choose your next words very

carefully, son of Atrin.”

Filwui looked at the massed ranks of senior females, some of whom had their claws on display, and at

Gredar, who was also baring his weapons. “It’s a
jopa
,” he muttered.

“Then you admit your guilt,” Gredar said, sneering in his former mate’s face. “Apologise. Both of

you.”

He nudged T’meen to his feet, but kept a hand on him. “Will protect,” he said quietly, stroking his

arm.

The two males in front of them looked at each other. Buhi moved first, bowing down deeply and

properly. “I apologise to Kirin, pet of Gredar.”

Gredar looked at Filwui. “Choose, and quickly.”

Filwui’s ears flattened and Gredar wasn’t sure at all what he would do. But then, with resentment in

every erect hair, he bowed. “I apologise to the jopa.”

“His name is T’meen. Say it—and stay down until I tell you to move or
I’ll
tear your paznit throat

out!”

“I apologise to the jopa,
T’meen
.” Filwui managed to make it all sound like a curse, but he’d said the

words.

T’meen looked at Gredar and then at the bowed bodies. “Sorry,” Gredar said, pointing from them to

T’meen, hoping he understood.

T’meen nodded, and took a step forward. “T’meen?” Gredar asked, worried at his intentions.

He pushed Gredar’s arm away. “T’meen good.” He walked over to the two males, and Gredar saw he

had his little knife in his hand. T’meen glanced back. “T’meen good,” he repeated. Gredar hissed in a breath,

but stayed quiet.

“What is he doing?” his mother demanded.

“Not sure. But you said I could choose, Mother. I choose this.”

All the females were on edge, their eyes fixed on T’meen as he walked forward. When they saw the

knife, there was an intake of breath—but no one spoke.

T’meen stood now at Filwui’s side—Gredar held himself ready to leap to his rescue should Filwui

attack, but Filwui did nothing. T’meen walked around Filwui, and then Buhi, as if considering. Then,

suddenly, he bent, and with one quick slice, he removed a large patch of fur from Filwui’s mane. He repeated

the action with Buhi, put the knife away and then stepped back. Once he was at a safe distance, he signalled

to Gredar that he wanted the two males to sit up, which he ordered them to do.

Once he had Filwui and Buhi’s attention, T’meen held up the bunches of fur he’d cut from them.

“Filwui very bad. Buhi very bad.” He dropped the fur to the floor, spat on it, then wiped his feet on it. He

turned around and walked back to Gredar, back straight, his face stiff and revealing nothing but his obvious

contempt.

Filwui’s tail quivered in rage, his ears still flat, and a growl started in his throat. Gredar’s mother cut

him off. “You’d better not, Filwui,” she warned, even as Gredar prepared to shove T’meen behind him and

defend. “Both of you, leave my sight. Filwui, if you make any attempt to attack any of my family—or

T’meen—I’ll have you torn apart and eaten. Get out.”

Buhi nearly fell over, running for the door. Filwui attempted to saunter, but his anger merely made

him look clumsy. Gredar exhaled as they left the room. That had been worse than he’d feared, in some ways.

“I sincerely hope there won’t be a need to repeat that,” Wilna said, still quietly. The others nodded.

“Mother, are we to discuss the other matter now?”

“Mother, you told me T’meen could stay for now,” Gredar said.

“Yes, I did, and that’s my vote. But the surat is to decide, my son. Today we have seen how

disruptive T’meen’s presence is, how destructive.” She held up her hand. “I admit we have also seen his

restraint and his intelligence.”

“And his readiness to use a weapon,” Jilen said.

“I saw a readiness to refrain, Aunt Jilen,” Wilna’s oldest daughter, Nea, said. “I want to see more of

what injuries he suffered.”

Paznitl.
T’meen could have no idea how important it was that he did what they asked. Gredar could

only make a show of him baring his arms and showing the injuries—to his relief, T’meen got it at once, and

stripped off his cloze down to the waist. He stood still and obedient, allowing the females to stare as much as

they wished. The cloze caused as much comment as his many scars—at least the family had had plenty of

chance to see what he’d been like before, and knew what a torgu thing it was to have mutilated him thus.

Gredar explained why he thought T’meen had cut his own hair off, and how the lack of a taeng made

what had been done to him much worse. Through it all, T’meen stood silent, trembling, but when Nea

indicated she’d seen enough and Gredar told him he could put his cloze on, T’meen walked to Gredar’s side

and pressed hard up against him. Gredar could only wrap tail and arm around him and wish this was over.

“You’re fond of him, Gredar?” Wilna asked. “And he’s fond of you?”

“He seems to be. And yes, I consider him a friend. He’s forgiven me for my failure towards him.”

“If Filwui had done that to me,” Nea said, “I’d have cut his kala off, not his paznit fur.” There was a

general snickering, and Halit whispered something to Wilna which made her grin.

Jilen wasn’t smiling, though. “He doesn’t belong here,” she said, her tone flat. How could she betray

him this way? Gredar felt like she’d stabbed him in the heart, but she avoided his eyes. “This is the home of

daiyne, not any creature who wishes to settle here.”

“He was brought here. Not his choice. I believe he wishes to go home, but I’ve barely had a chance to

find out where that might be. You know yourself why that is, sister.”

“He’s caused bad blood between this family and another. Filwui’s family are useful to the clan.”

“Filwui’s been pushing his luck since he was born,” Gredar’s mother said dryly. “If it wasn’t this, it

would be another thing. I predict he’ll be ejected within a cycle, if I don’t have his balls removed.” Gredar

winced. She meant it too. “What we saw today wasn’t caused by T’meen, however much I wish it was

because then we could solve it easily. Daughters, I went to Gredar’s room last night, and saw a torgu

creature, scarred and naked. But then I talked to T’meen, and he bowed to me as clan head, thanked me. I

believe a creature capable of such acts may be worth preserving, if only for a while. I suggest we allow him

to stay one cycle. After that, he must leave, either on his own, or with Gredar if he won’t abandon him.”

“Mother!” Jilen’s voice was sharp with alarm. “We can’t afford to lose Gredar. If it comes to that, I

say we have it destroyed, and soon. It’s only a male, and without more of its kind, we can’t even breed from

it.”

“It’s not my decision, daughter. Convince the others, if you wish. I’ve said my piece.”

Gredar stared at his mother, pleading wordlessly, but she would say nothing more. Jilen and the

others held a huddled conference while T’meen, trusting Gredar to protect him, held tightly onto him.
I’ll

fight them if they try to kill you, little friend, but I don’t think I can win,
he thought, stroking T’meen’s head

carefully.

It took nearly half a strike before the females were done. At last, Jilen turned to him, her eyes

unblinking and cold. “Very well. We agree to what Mother suggests, but with the additional condition that if

T’meen causes any more trouble, innocently or not, he must leave or be destroyed without argument. We

have spoken.” He nodded, accepting the judgement. But she wasn’t finished. “Gredar, I’ll kill him rather than

have you leave the clan on account of him.”

“If you do, sister, then I’ll leave anyway. I’ve promised to protect him, and I can’t stay if I’m shamed

again.”

His mother heaved a huge sigh. “Are we finished? I have so many other things to do. Gredar, Jilen,

stop glaring. It’s over. Gredar, you better keep out of Filwui’s sight for a while.”

“He should avoid
me,
Mother.”

“I doubt he has that much sense, my son. And take T’meen to Martek as soon as you can. If anyone

can find his home, Martek can.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Jilen gave him a long, not unsympathetic look, but Gredar wasn’t feeling generous, so he only stared

coolly back. She had her reasons, he just didn’t agree with them. Perhaps later they would talk when they

were both calmer, but she didn’t try to speak to him as she and the other females left the room.

When they were gone, T’meen dared to look up at him. “T’meen good?”

“Ye-ess. Gredar haapy.”

“T’meen tir-ed.”

His hands shook badly and he reeked of stress. “Yes, I bet you are, little friend. Let’s have a rest, and

then you can go visiting with me.” It was over, for now. Why didn’t he feel better about the whole thing?

~~~~~~~~

Temin thought he was doing okay, until he stood up. His vision whited out, and his legs turned to

jelly underneath him. He found himself swept up in Gredar’s strong arms, and though it was deeply humiliating for an adult man, he was simply too dizzy and nauseated to care. He closed his eyes for the entire

journey up the stairs to Gredar’s room, but once he was set down carefully on the floor, he bolted to the toilet

room and vomited up everything in his stomach—breakfast and probably three meals before that. He hung

limply over the side of the toilet tray, until he felt a cold wet washing leather on the back of his neck. He

grabbed it and wiped his face with it, then allowed Gredar to help him out to the main room and set him

down. “Water,” he croaked, pantomiming what he wanted, and Gredar helped him with the too big cup, so he

could swill out his mouth, and wash the sickness away.

He struggled out of his flight suit and his boots, and the effort left him panting—he guessed he wasn’t

as over the whole infection thing as he thought, and he was glad to lie down. He couldn’t stop shaking, his

stomach cramped, and he was so cold, even with all the furs on him and half his clothes. He grabbed a fistful

of Gredar’s fur, and tugged him to lie down.

Sheft it.
How was he going to get out of this place if he couldn’t get himself under control better than

this? It was a miracle he hadn’t actually puked in front of all those females, and he’d really have to be a