I Was An Alien Cat Toy (7 page)

You changed the diet, you said?”

“Yes—fewer vegetables, more fruit and meat and he likes a little more bread than he was getting.” He

had to be careful not to be seen to be criticising the household, because that reflected on his mother’s dignity.

“It takes some time to get these things right.”

“And who has time for a dumb animal anyway?” She was being sarcastic. Jilen disliked animals

being wilfully mistreated because it was wasteful and torgu and made work for her when she was already so

very busy. “He’s the most curious creature I ever saw.” Kirin spoke at her, and she smiled. “That’s a nicer

sound than all that screeching and carrying on in those first few days....”

“He was just frightened,” Gredar said, stroking his pet again, and smiling at the way Kirin rubbed

against his hand. “We’re so much bigger than him, and we don’t know what goes on in their tiny brains, do

we?”

“Not much, I suspect.” His mother looked away from the jopa, dismissing it, and turned her attention

to Gredar. “It’s lovely you’ve done such good work with him, dear, but we have work here too. I hope

you’ve come to do some.”

“Yes, Mother.”

They spent nearly two hours going over lists and quantities and trade values until Gredar’s head was

spinning. Through it all, Kirin sat, then lay on the cushion without making a sound, just playing idly with

Gredar’s tail or rubbing against Gredar’s hand if he happened to pat him. Jilen watched them together from

time to time, clearly curious, and as she shut her accounts book, she sat back on her haunches. “Will you take

it with you to the gathering?”

“No, it think it’s best this time not to. I wanted to ask you if you would keep an eye on him for me.”

“Me? Brother, when would I have the time? Ask Buhi.”

Gredar’s mother snorted as Gredar gave his twin a look of disbelief. “Sister, would you leave your

babies with your oldest? Because I wouldn’t. He nearly killed Kirin, have you forgotten?”

“Ah, yes. I had,” she said, looking thoughtful. “But I really don’t have time. What about Filwui?”

“He’s not very good with Kirin, actually.”

His mother shook her head. “We can’t waste people’s time running after your animal, Gredar. Lock

him in your room, I’ll have Buhi feed him and change the litter tray. Leave instructions, I’ll make sure

they’re carried out. But you must keep it on the leash while you’re gone—I won’t have it escaping or causing

a nuisance. I have spoken.”

Gredar would have argued back but for those three words, which made it a crime even for him to

disobey or question. He could only bow his head submissively. “Yes, Mother.”

“Don’t give me that look, kitling. You’ll be gone but half a moonsweep and you can play with it

when you return. It’ll be quite safe in your room—just put the breakables away, leave it some toys or

something.”

“Yes, Mother.” He strove to sound agreeable and pleasant because it was his habit and his mother was

merely being sensible and he, rather foolish, he had to admit. But he couldn’t help but be disappointed that

his family weren’t going to take this chance to benefit from Kirin’s wonderful company. He was also worried

that being left on his own for so long would unsettle his pet. “Will you allow one or two of my workers to

drop in to amuse him?”

“If they can do that and still do their work, yes. I’m not trying to be cruel, dear—I just have a house

and a clan to run, and it
is
just an animal.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Jilen rose as he did. “Come see my kitlings, Gredar. You can tell me more about what your pet needs

and I’ll make sure Buhi does it right this time.”

He rubbed his head against his mother’s shoulder and accepted a caress, then he and his sister walked

out together, Kirin close at his side. “He doesn’t like to be far from you, does he?” she observed.

“It’s Filwui’s fault, I think—he got rather rough with him when I first took him to my room, and now

Kirin’s rather suspicious of any one of us he doesn’t know.”

“Most unlike a jopa. They’re usually too brainless to tell the difference between their owner or

anyone else, and I’ve never seen one sit still for so long. When it dies, I want to do an autopsy—there’s

something odd about the way it walks, and I’m sure his skeleton would be interesting.”

Gredar was grateful then that Kirin couldn’t possibly understand the conversation. “Less talk of my

pet dying, Jilen. I don’t know how long his kind lives, but I’m too fond of him to want him to die soon. You

don’t have any idea how old he is?”

“He’s got adult teeth so far as I can tell,” she said with a shrug. “Other than that, no idea. I can’t

imagine it’s very old, judging by the lack of wear on its teeth. Maybe five, six cycles? It can’t have lived very

long without fur.”

“I want to trade for another, if I can—breed him, if he’s really old enough.”

“Mother won’t like that.”

Gredar grinned at her. “I’ll win her over, me and Kirin. Jilen, the main thing is he
has
to be kept

warm—and he mustn’t be teased or shouted at. That clod of a kit you call a son isn’t at all gentle.”

“Yes, I know and I have no idea why,” she said, sighing. “I got done up by the wrong male, probably.

My other kits aren’t like that. His twin died too young for me to know if she’d be the same.”

Gredar stroked his sister’s arm, the loss, even so long ago, of one of her first birthing, painful still.

“Buhi is a strong, healthy kit—just not...naturally gifted with weak things. He’s becoming an excellent

carpenter, Filwui tells me.”

“He’s lazy,” she said, dismissing the praise, though her tail twitched with pleasure. “Now, brother,

come and amuse my little ones for a bit while I work. They always behave best for you.”

~~~~~~~~

“No!” Temin put his hands around his neck, trying to thwart his owner’s determined efforts to put

that shefting thing on him again. Why? For weeks he’d walked around untethered—what had changed? “No!

Leave me alone!”

But of course he had no real chance of making Xexe stop, however much of a tantrum he threw—and

to the cat man, that was all it would look like. He glared furiously up at Xexe’s inscrutable face as the collar

was refastened and the leash tied firmly to the leg of the bed. “I
hate
your shefting guts, you thug. I should

pull your whiskers out.”

Xexe crouched and patted him, making the little yowling chirruping noises that Temin had come to

understand were intended to calm and comfort—not that they did anything of the sort. “Why are you
doing

this?” he demanded, however futile it was. It made him feel a little better to vent, at least.

Xexe patted him again, stood and then fetched something down from a high shelf. He placed the

object in Temin’s hands. To Temin’s horror, he realised he was looking at a
toy
. A carved wooden ball with

smaller objects inside it—for children to test their dexterity by putting them in the right hole and extracting

them.

He flung it from him as far as he could, hitting the wall opposite with a tremendous crash, before it

rolled under the desk with a forlorn little rattle. “You
must
be shefting
joking
!” he yelled, humiliated and

insulted and not caring if Xexe got angry with him. “I’m not a
kid
!”

Xexe made a sorrowful growl and fetched the ball again, placing it on the bed next to Temin, his paw

firmly on it as if to say, ‘don’t throw it again.’ He stroked Temin’s face and back, lingering regretfully, then

straightened up as the door opened and another cat man came in. Temin bared his teeth in anger, recognising

him by a white blaze down his nose as the stupid bastard who’d tossed him out in the snow all those weeks

ago. Xexe understood bared teeth were a sign of displeasure and Temin was
shefting
displeased right now.

What was that oaf doing in here?

To his dismay, after another gentle pat and encouraging chirrup, Xexe left the room, but DopeyBoy

stayed. Temin crawled back on Xexe’s bed and swore he’d bite the little shit if he tried to touch him.

But DopeyBoy didn’t—all he did was check the leash was tied tight, toss the toy at Temin and then he

left.

It was only after several incredibly dull hours—he’d got so spoiled by being taken out every day to

Xexe’s workshop and being allowed to watch the fascinating process of pot making—that Temin realised

that Xexe wasn’t coming back that day, most likely. Which meant DopeyBoy was his sitter, and for however

long it would take for Xexe to come back, the bed, this room and that stupid, offensive toy were his only

entertainment. Bugger. It wasn’t as if his days were exactly packed with excitement at the best of times, but

Xexe was doing his best, and Temin had become used to being treated well and allowed liberties that he

knew perfectly well the monkey creature pets would not be. Temin had decided a while back to treat this

enforced period of inactivity as he waited for spring, as a vacation—not something he had much experience

of, actually—but a vacation with
some
change of pace in a day was at least bearable. This—this was like

being in prison. A luxurious prison, for sure, but even on Nixal they didn’t make prisoners wear leashes.

He cursed the fact he’d still not been able to steal anything useful like a knife or scissors, though he’d

seen plenty of both in use. Xexe was just too damn tidy and orderly. His room was always immaculate, all

equipment and implements put away, and his workshop was also meticulously run, never giving Temin a

chance to hide a tool or anything sharp to retrieve later. Still, Temin had hoped to have a chance now that

Xexe seemed willing to take him to other places within this house and even outside it. Now he’d have to

wait.

He did some exercises, and jerked off—something he hadn’t had privacy to do since he was captured

—but that made him think of Jeng and depressed him, so it wasn’t as much fun as it could have been. He was

hungry, having got used to being fed three times a day at the same time Xexe ate. He wondered when

DopeyBoy would remember to bring him food.

It wasn’t until after dark, in fact, when the bastard turned up with cold food cut into huge chunks—

exactly how he’d been fed before Xexe had taken charge of him. DopeyBoy dumped the food bowl on the

ground, splashed water into the other bowls (without emptying the stale stuff first), glanced at the litter tray

with a sniff that sounded disgusted to Temin’s ears, and bolted—taking the candle with him.

“Maybe he’s a dog person,” Temin muttered. And how was he supposed to find his food in the dark?

He left eating until morning, which didn’t improve the indifferent food’s taste. Xexe had got the

cutting up of meat and vegetables into manageable portions down to a fine art—all Temin could do with

these lumps was gnaw around the edges. The bread was stale, and he wasn’t hungry enough to force it down.

He left it all in the bowl and had another go at trying to undo the collar—but it was useless. These cat people

had some ingenious locks and mechanisms—whatever anyone could say about them, they weren’t backward.

Some of the glazed pottery Xexe’s workshop turned out would fetch huge prices in Venshu for its beauty and

design.

He lay on the bed and sighed. It was strange but he missed Xexe, even though they could barely

communicate on the most basic level. The big guy was just so...careful and kind, and clearly thought about

everything he did before he did it. Not like Temin, who was the planet’s most impulsive idiot, at least since

good old Dad died. Xexe was more like...Jeng, actually. And wouldn’t that just baste Jeng’s noodle if Temin

ever told him that?

Despite his numerous resolutions not to, he found himself thinking of Jeng, wondering what he was

up to, wondering if he was trying to find Temin, even against orders. And what the sheft he would make of

what Temin was going through now? Would Temin ever be able to tell Jeng, or anyone, about any of this

without being thought insane?

But he was getting way ahead of himself. “Wait until you get out of here to worry about that, you

doofus,” he told himself.

By the time DopeyBoy turned up—a little earlier than the previous day, so it was still light outside—

Temin had catalogued every square centimetre of the room that he could reach, had done three hours of

intensive exercises, had tried to meditate twice (and found he still sucked at that), and was nearly climbing

the walls in sheer boredom. He’d have torn off a testicle and eaten it for something to read—
anything
at all to

read—or even to have had something to write with. He wasn’t going to be sane by the time Xexe returned—

if he ever did, and wasn’t that a chilling thought? But no, why would Temin be confined here in Xexe’s room

if he wasn’t coming back? He had to resist letting his fears become ridiculous. There was enough about this

situation that was bad for him.

DopeyBoy barely looked at him, and certainly wasn’t going to waste time attempting to play with him

or amuse him. He picked up the food bowl, scraped away the old food and left more that looked just as

unappealing. He didn’t look at the litter tray or touch the water dishes and was clearly going to leave without

topping them up.

“Hey! I need more water!” Temin tugged on the cat man’s tail, and pointed at the empty dish—the

other one being what he had been using to wash his hands with. But the creature pulled its tail free and