Fifty years. It was supposed to last fifty years. And I might not be able to stay fifty weeks. When humans adopt someone, it changes you in ways you don’t expect. My professor, marvelous academic that he was, brought a dozen different species with him to Earth to live with various branches of the Walker family tree, no doubt to learn whether or not humans could adopt and bond with those as easily as his own. And more precisely, to learn how such a process impacted those species' mental states.
My own mental state… I wasn’t sure how to process it. At this stage it was a struggle, the academic dlamisa who had never experienced an outburst in his entire life was now passionate and emotional enough to do… What I did. I regret that I still cannot properly find the words to explain it. Perhaps there are no words in any language.
Perhaps that is for the best.
What I did know was that I’d somehow made peace with the possibility of losing all my preparation time for an important and highly paid specialization, what was my everything was now nothing to me anymore.
I followed Fauve up the stairs and found Rebecca seated at the table with Michael in his high chair while she fed him, he began to clap when he saw me. Funny little thing, giant smile on his face and messy hands coated with red ravioli sauce. Rebecca ignored the flying droplets and turned her head in my direction.
“At least that’s over with, for now.” She said, her eyes went from me, to past me to glare at the door leading outside. William was there in the doorway speaking to security, I doubted she caught every word, but now that I was upstairs, I did.
“...So we can be sure that won’t be a problem again. We apologize for the trouble, it seems there was a leak yesterday, it made its way out to various… sorts. By the time the judge signed the order, the story was already out. Just keep indoors for now, order what you need delivered until a press conference can be arranged. Given the circumstances, I’ve called in a favor. There’s a guy, he was about to call all this quits, but he owes me for something a long time ago. He’s a media expert, doesn’t normally do this anymore, but he’ll step up just this once. He will want to brief you. But please don’t worry, it may seem like it’s getting worse, but that’s just because people are filling in the gaps with their own stories, and stories fed to them by men like that.” It was a human guard who spoke , and through the windows facing the porch I caught sight of his three comrades spread out on a long line with their arms relaxed and heads turning left and right, scanning the area. Drones zipped around overhead to mind the perimeter.
William was quiet, only the hum of drones overhead, I could feel the gears in his head turning as he thought all that over. “I don’t really like the idea of some slimeball spin doctor getting their claws in my family… can’t we just do it straight?”
The guard snorted, “Sir, I’ve guarded celebrities, politicians, industrialists, VIPs all over the place, I’ve stood by for enough press gatherings to work as a media consultant myself if I ever take another bullet on this job and decide I need another. Lemme tell you, how you tell the truth, matters a helluva lot more than that you tell the truth. Just trust me… the guy is a little… weird. But he’s exactly what you need. He’s going to arrange a press conference for you tomorrow.”
William’s shoulders stiffened as his back straightened up, I didn’t see it, I didn't look at him, but I could feel the motion through his words. As if he were steeling himself for an ugly and arduous task he said, “I understand. Have them here tomorrow if you can, this needs to get settled. I won’t let them get away with this. I won’t.” William hissed through gritted teeth. His hand was tight on the brass doorknob of his home, his entire body stiff as stone, even though he had to look up to meet the eyes of the security guard, he somehow looked bigger to me than he had before.
“Yessir.” The guard responded, and did not protest when the door was quietly closed in front of him.
With their business done I watched William’s back when he took a deep breath, clapped his hands together against his cheeks and tapped them a few times, composed himself, and turned around.
Suddenly the tension was gone and he was all smiles again before he left the living room and walked toward the kitchen. How humans present their emotional state is often intended as some form of control or influence over the situation.
Rebecca was far more open, she embraced her daughter behind my back while Michael ate in blissful ignorance, and she would not let go. Fauve remained quiet, her attempt at stoicism less effective than her more experienced father. But William’s happy smile masked the abiding concern that I was sure lay just beneath the surface.
I can be sure of this because William was far more open with me than with the rest of his family. Perhaps because I was a male. Or an alien. Or an alien male. Or perhaps because he didn’t even realize I learned to pick up on their emotional states so he felt no need to hide them from me.
Part of why I was able to learn their emotions so readily was my sense of smell. Primates exude certain pheromones when they are in certain states. Arousal is particularly obvious as there are various secretions, so obvious even they can tell when it is present. I was heartily glad that the mated pair I lived with tended to be very clean, and always showered after they followed pheromones through to their logical end.
If they could detect the rest of those smells, they would probably never leave the shower, but their other emotional states are impossible for unenhanced humans to detect through their nostrils. Their sense of smell is simply far too weak. If they can detect the smell of fear or anger or hate or… anything, it is on a level so subtle and primal that their higher mind fails to recognize it.
But the benefit to that for me is that I was able to rapidly learn the emotional states of what I now considered on an unknowable level to myself, my humans. I knew I would have to have the same conversation over again, explaining to William and Rebecca what I said to Fauve. But doing that once was hard.
Doing it twice in the same day? That was too much. I turned my eye toward Fauve, she gave me a nod that, with eyes closed, her mother missed, showing me she understood.
William’s broad smile took up most of the lower half of his face, even without my sense of smell that let me learn his moods so quickly and tie them to expressions, his jaw was obviously tense and there was the barest beginnings of sweat on his brow. Despite his attempt at outward calm that he presented to his family, I knew he was a bundle of knots and nerves inside, the descent of the press on his home was a lot to take in even for him.
“So that was… something. I haven’t seen that many drones since they rebooted that War Stars franchise for the fiftieth time. I swear they’ve started that damn thing over more than that Groundrym game of yours, Fauve.” William laughed at his own lame joke and went to the blue countertop and picked up a small curved green plate on which a few hot sandwiches sat.
“Dadu… it’s not a reboot,” Fauve corrected him, “It’s the triple gold anniversary very special legendary VR edition, and it comes with a creation kit! That’s a rerelease, not a reboot.” She sounded, to me, a little indignant, her eyes rolled as if she’d explained it a thousand times.
“So they sell you the same thing over again for the full price without really changing anything. I guess that isn’t quite a reboot, it can’t be, there’s nothing new but the charge on your bank account.” William shrugged.
“No. At least this stays on fire, the War Stars series sucks now. Sure I paid full price for some minor tweaks, but I paid for fire, you paid for the hot wet burning garbage.” Fauve took a victorious bite of her sandwich just as her father sat down to eat. Though it was at least a little awkward doing so as her mother’s hug had still not released itself while the silent and somehow good natured war over games and movies seemingly waged between father and daughter. The look down his nose at her was frankly, proud.
“You’re both absurd, rereleases are rip offs and War Stars and all related content are soulless cash grabs.” Rebecca added in her own view, then shrugged, finally letting go of her daughter and allowed both of them to reach for the side dishes she’d set in the middle of the table, and I went to grab a plate of my own. It says ‘something’ at least that I was now comfortable simply taking food without asking for it directly. The Walkers' exceptional open and welcoming nature went a long way toward setting me at ease.
Michael reached for me and made fussy, short cries when I went to sit on the opposite side of the table. I stopped, his luminous eyes took me in and his hands began to clap.
Rebecca had a bite of sandwich in her mouth and looked at me in silent hopefulness. There were dark circles under her eyes and they were no less red and cracked than those of her daughter.
I didn’t sit all the way down. Instead I picked my sandwich up, went around the wooden table, and sat beside Michael. His hands went straight to my fur, I inched my seat a little closer and put an arm on the tray of his seat so he could play and touch and do… what tiny humans do, while I used my free hand to tear chunks away from my sandwich and gulp them down while William informed them of everything I’d already overheard.
“Naturally your mother and I will do the talking, you won’t have to do anything, Fauve, I promise.” William asserted
Fauve, ever the clever thinker, waited until everybody’s mouths were full at once before she spoke for herself. “I want to be the one to talk to the press tomorrow.”
