Chapter 13 - Strange Bedfellows (Dogpile)

In the dark of the morning, a Shil’vati drone hovered almost silently. It’s routine scans proceeded as normal. Until it spotted an unusual heat signature who paced across the Buckman Bridge. The drone zoomed in closer.

The bouncing red dot of a heat signature increased in size, revealing itself to the drone to be a Rakiri. Closing in more, the red Rakiri outline developed a line that grew off to the side and named her in Shil’vati runes. From the name, a menu dropped down with several other runes.

The thermal imaging gave way to what could be described as a visual representation of odor analysis. Intermingled with the Rakiri scents were human scents. Another menu in the drone’s HUD appeared. It revealed a picture of Michael. Shuddering, as if in recognition, the screen released its sights from the Rakiri. It followed her scent trail, which led to the general vicinity of Michael’s apartment complex instead.

The drone estimated the distance from its current post to the apartment complex. An indicator in the lower left of the HUD showed insufficient charge. The drone’s screen turned away from the targeted direction and returned to the Shil’vati base.

---

Michael woke up cold. He reached for a partner who was no longer there. She sure was quiet. He pulled the comforter up from around his feet and snuggled in. Sweet comfortable darkness overtook him.

Perfect time for his alarm to go off. Though not ready to be awake, Michael thought, how does Bastille’s song Flaws make for the perfect song to lull me to sleep while also being the perfect song to jolt me awake. How do they do that?

He and Bill got back to their routine and eventually back to the car together.

“How was it? Did you make her beg and roll over?” Bill asked with the voice of morning grogginess.

“No! We slept together but we didn’t sleep together.” Michael protested. “I have no idea when she left either. I went to sleep and when I got up, she was gone.”

Bill grunted, “She was gone about 4 A.M.”

“How’d you know?”

Yawning, Bill complained, “I heard the door close around then. I was in the middle of a great dream,” he paused, “About you.”

Michael gasped, “About me?”

“Yeah, you know how I’ve been talking about how we need to exercise and whatnot?” Michael nodded. “In my dream, we were out on the track. I had a clipboard and I was setting up a sheet to keep track of our sprinting times.”

“Sure.” Michael turned the car toward work.

“Well,” Bill chuckled. “We were at the starting line. I told you to run fifty meters and off you went. I looked down at the clipboard, you know, writing down the date and our names.” Bill looked over at Michael. “And when I looked up from the paper, you weren’t twenty meters from the starting line and you were on the ground. I was like, ‘Oh shit!’ and I ran up to you. You were on your back and you couldn’t breathe! I leaned over you and said, ‘You better get it together, because I’m not going to give you mouth to mouth!” Bill laughed at Dream Michael’s misfortune. “And I laughed so hard in my dream…” Wiping his eyes as he said, “That I woke myself up laughing!”

“What?” Michael couldn’t grasp what was going on because of all of Bill’s laughing.

Bill clarified, “I laughed so hard in my dream, that I woke up laughing at the dream.”

Michael finished, “The dream about me dying on the ground after running just twenty meters.” He nodded with understanding. “Cool…”

---

Despite doubts from everyone, including his roommate, Michael got along fine during his work day. On this day, he had little in the way of classes but more in the way of office work and proctoring. Students who had documented disabilities could come to the office at the university and take their tests in private, proctored rooms. Some students needed extended time, a distraction-free environment, scribes or sometimes readers.

Though blindness could be “cured”, that led to mixed results. Sight could be restored in many cases beyond natural vision. Shil’s had probably developed vision enhancements that could see through clothes, but that was much more than average civilians were permitted. Maybe even smell-o-vision, Michael quipped to himself.

A student called to Michael from the door of his office. “I can’t get into this section. I need help again.”

“No problem.” Michael said cheerily as he got up from his desk and followed the student to their assigned room. “You can read the tests just fine, but…”

The student grumbled. “Right. I can’t get into them.”

Michael looked at the screen. “So what does this look like to you?”

The student strained their eyes to see the screen. “It’s just dots and boxes.”

To get into the next section of the test, the computer asked the user to find and click the blocks of the image featuring crosswalks.

“What an oversight. You are not a computer.” Michael clicked obediently.

“My eyes are, though.” The student smirked ironically.

---

Upon arriving home, Michael and Bill were in for a surprise.

“Uh, hey Linnet! Did you bring a friend?” Michael asked in English knowing they wouldn’t know what he was saying, knowing the answer anyway.

Around the doorway to their apartment stood two Rakiri females. Linnet with her copper-gold locks. And a new friend whose dark fur made Michael feel bad for her.

Michael’s usual attire involved dark colors to contrast his white skin tone. This is a norm in the interpreting community, you wear clothes that contrast your skin so as to make a less distracting and more pleasant background to have while reading an interpreter’s signs. Michael learned the consequences of such a work uniform when he moved to the south: dark clothes in the southern heat makes for an unhappy fat man.

Who knows exactly how long the Rakiri stood on the blacktop of the parking lot, waiting for the boys to get home, but it had been enough for them to seek shade while waiting. They’d come forward when Linnet spotted them walking to the apartment door. Her tail wagged with anticipation. Her companion unabashedly panted.

“Welcome home. I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend. This is Bel’a.” Linnet squinted in the sunlight.

Bel’a pulled her tongue in for a brief moment before giving a slight “Howdoyoudo? Can we go in?”

Michael had no idea what they said. Their grawgraws seemed friendly enough. Their body language indicated they wanted to go in. He smiled and put his key into the doorknob lock.

Bill grumbled a bit at the uninvited company.

Both Rakiri stopped panting long enough to give Bill silent regard. They resumed when the door opened.

Bel’a sighed in relief at the gust of cool air that followed. “By the Empress..!” She barreled into the apartment, not quite pushing Michael on the way up the stairs, but not not brushing herself against him on her way up.

Michael didn’t know who was feeling who up in this exchange, but it wasn’t necessarily unwelcome.

Bill sarcastically grunted the polite phrase, “Oh no, after you.” And held the door open for Linnet to enter before him.

“Thank you kindly.” She replied with her ears bent back.

“‘Graw graw’ to you too.” Bill replied with sarcasm that was clear beyond a language barrier.

Upstairs, Michael offered the girls a drink. “We’ve got water, milk, cider, beer. Whatcha want?”

They both looked at him, flummoxed at what he’d said.

As an aside to Linnet, without turning her head, Bel’a said in Shil, “I thought you said he spoke Shil.”

Bending her ear a bit, Linnet replied, “Yeah…about that.”

Bill butted in between them and grabbed a beer and a cider from the fridge. He handed the cider to Michael and groaned, “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” He then got down two bowls from a cabinet and filled them with water. He put both bowls in front of the girls.

Both of their sets of ears pulled back and they sneered slightly.

“Oh, you two wanna share a bowl?” Bill shrugged, “My bad.” He grabbed one of the bowls and started to pour it down the sink.

Michael grabbed Bill’s hand to stop him. He took a big swig of the cider then pulled two water bottles out of the fridge. He gestured at the bottles and split his eye contact between the two Rakiri and the bottles.

They were a bit more persuaded by this offer, but took the bowls as well as the bottles.

“There’s no need to be rude,” Michael said to Bill, “Treat them like you’d like to be treated.”

They looked on as the Rakiri women turned away from them while audibly licking the water out of the bowls.

“Sure thing, Mikey.” Bill smirked.

Michael took another deep draw of his bottle of cider. “Let me get this party started and we’ll work out the kinks.”

Linnet lapped gingerly at the bowl. “Seems that Mike only speaks and understands Shil when he’s had some alcohol.”

Bel’a frowned at that.

Linnet nodded in agreement. “I know, baby steps, just enjoy the cool air and try to behave yourself.”

Bel’a opened the water bottle and took a drink from it. She then poured it into the bowl. “That one just gave us tap water. The nerve!” She lapped greedily from the bowl. “But he was nice enough to give us proper drinking receptacles.” Her messy drinking dripped water onto the coffee table and couch. It came dangerously close to Bill’s PS4 controller.

“Hey!” Bill yipped at her. He started to roll up a magazine as he fast stepped toward Bel’a.

In the best Shil Michael could muster he said, “Please don’t spill on our stuff!” It didn’t come out clearly, but the girls got the gist.

“Hang on a sec, Bill!” Michael hissed.

Linnet wiped at the coffee table with her hairy hand. Bel’a started to lick at the droplets of water on the couch.

Bill, momentarily paused, but returned to his self appointed task of disciplining Bel’a and raised the magazine over his head.

Bel’a stood quickly and grabbed Bill’s forearm before he could swing the magazine at her.

“Don’t even try it, Human.” Bel’a towered over the short and stout Filipino man.

Michael heard and understood that message in Shil, but also in terms of sheer size difference. “Ok guys. Let’s take a breath!”

Bill was unphased. “Tell her she needs to be careful with my stuff.”

Michael interpreted.

Bel’a guided Bill’s hand to his side. Linnet slipped the glossy magazine out of Bill’s hands.

“Oh, Game Informer.” Linnet read the cover aloud in the best English she could muster. It came out sounding a bit more like Gum Eenfornr but it’s a worthwhile effort.

“Ok, who else is hungry?” Michael inquired in Shil and then in English.

Bill’s eyes hadn’t disconnected from Bel’a’s. “Order some Chinese.”

It took Michael a split second to recognize the implication, though he caught it before he interpreted it. “That seems a lot racist.” He thought a second more, “And species-ist…”

“Racist!?” Bill jerked his head around to look at Michael, “I’m Asian!”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll make stroganoff.”

“Do we even have the stuff to make stroganoff?”

“We have some meat. We have some noodles. We can…”, Michael’s eyes widened in disgust, “scrape off the mold from the top of the sour cream. “

Bill was spurred to action, “Hey, I’ve got an idea.” He turned back to the Rakiri. “Do you girls like to hunt?”

Michael interpreted, though it was tinged with dubiousness.

They looked at each other as though it were obvious and nodded, “Um, yeah.”

Bill rubbed his hands together, “Maybe y’all can tussle us up some grub.”

After a little back and forth between Michael and the ladies about what “grub” meant, Bel’a asked, “You mean like this?”

She pulled out, from what had seemed to be a small hip bag, a dead snake.

Bill clapped his hands in approval. “Heh. Yeah, but we might need a little more than that.”

Linnet wagged her tail for having caught Bill’s approval. She grasped the concept of “more” as well. She produced her own handful of snakes. Then Bel’a pulled out a second one.

Bill gathered up the snakes from the Rakiri and slapped them on the kitchen island. “There’s your meat!”

He knew they were dead, but the glassy, limp bodies dropping on the island made him jump back. I ain’t touching those fucking things. “Why do you even have these?” Michael felt sick. “Where did you get these?”

Bel’a replied first, “They’re everywhere. We tried to catch the little lizards, but they’re quick!”

“I think those are called ‘anoles’.” Mike confirmed with a nod. “Their necks have a different color and they puff out when they’re showing off; trying to find a mate.”

Linnet followed up, “Ooh, handsome.” She winked at no one in particular. “But these big tube lizards were easy enough to get. In fact, some of them came after us.”

Michael’s eyes became unusually large.

“That’s probably because we were near their nests.” Bel’a conceded. “Which is fair. All the same, that’s nature.”

I’d leave those fuckers alone if I knew I was near their nest and they were trying to defend themselves. Or, you know, existing near me at all.

“What’s a matter, Mikey?” Bill slithered around the island. He straightened up before declaring, “Wait just a second!” He ran into his bedroom and came back with his KBAR. “Check it out! Remember my dream?” He nudged Michael.

Michael chuckled lightly and uncomfortably.

“You can use it to prepare dinner.” Bill grinned mischievously.

The knife shook in Michael’s hand.

“C’mon girls, help him out!” Bill waved the Rakiri to join them. “Seems our boy Mikey’s got a little fear of snakes.”

There’s no way for me to interpret that in a way that shows me in a good light. Fuck. Michael succumbed to his fear and stepped back from the table. He motioned with both hands for anyone else to take the stage.“Y’all have fun..”

I didn’t have to tell them twice. Linnet, Bel’a and Bill took to the work of gutting, skinning and deboning the snakes. They each took equal pleasure in the ripping, squishing sounds. Bill even let Linnet use his knife. She was gifted. In minutes all five snakes were cut into pieces, seasoned and ready to cook.

Michael used the largest burner to boil the water to be ready for the noodles. Bill greased a large pan. The meat sizzled when it landed. Linnet watched, her tail wagged with a mind of its own. Bel’a settled down on the couch.

Bel’a grumbled, “Why are we bothering to cook? The meat was perfectly good as it was.”

Linnet chided, “You’re on an alien planet. You should be willing to try new things!”

Alien planet? Michael thought. I guess we are the aliens to them. And they are choosing to spend time with us. When compared to how I’ve been treated by the Shil’vati, I get it.

Bill was too busy flipping the meat for Michael to bother interpreting.

Speaking of trying new things, I’ve never eaten snake. Maybe it’ll taste like chicken.

After adding a little of this and a little of that, Michael was happy with his snake stroganoff. Dinner was served.

Bill and Michael took their places on the couch. Linnet and Bel’a took spots around Michael. Before they could begin eating, Bill searched Netflix for something to watch. Michael poked around until he thought he’d gotten a respectable bite of meat and noodle on his fork. Linnet had had a good amount of her plate finished. Bel’a was already licking the plate.

By the time Michael looked up from his plate. Bill had found what he wanted to watch. Old Yeller showed on the search bar. Michael gave Bill the death stare.

Bill giggled and deleted the text. He opened up Pacific Rim instead. Huge robots and huge monsters, that’s better?

They all kind of dozed through the movie. Dinner hit the spot. Drama and violence could do nothing to stop sleep from overtaking them. Michael decided to hit the sack before Raleigh even got to Gypsy Danger. The Rakiri girls went with him. Bill found himself alone.

“Meh,” Bill admitted, “Everyone’s a critic.” He made sure he heard Michael’s bedroom door click closed before he switched the movie over to Sixteen Candles.

In his bedroom, Michael asked Bel’a, “What made you come here?”

Bel’a yawned and stretched in an extremely doglike simulacrum before replying, “Linnet said that coming here was worlds better than staying on base.” She gave Linnet a nod, “And she wasn’t wrong. It’s not hotter than the Void in your home. I can recognize what I’m eating.” She raked her claws along the horizontal length of the bed. “And I hear you have a nicer bed than we have on base.”

“I don’t know how much this bed can take.” Michael questioned without enough care to not get on it.

He got into his spot. Linnet got into hers, not without a little bit of shoving from Bel’a. The bed seemed small with just Michael and Linnet, now with Bel’a, he didn’t know how it would work out. She managed to squeeze her way onto the bed around the footboard. There wasn’t a single inch of mattress that wasn’t covered by someone. Limbs piled on top of each other like logs. Any part that could have gotten cold through the night could have been blanketed by either Michael’s comforter or someone’s furry body parts.

I’m not sure what they’re getting out of this, but it sure feels nice to not sleep alone.

—-

Outside of Bill and Michael’s apartment, in the cover of night, a shiny purple brick circled the parking lot.

It settled in behind Michael’s dirty snowball colored LaCrosse. The HUD indicated that records verified that this was, indeed, Michael Greer’s vehicle.

The brick seemed to nod slightly before it bobbed higher. It spun in a circle, scanning all of the apartment buildings in the horseshoe.

Heat signatures revealed several living entities in various places in multiple apartments.

The HUD displayed Michael’s drivers license. It showed an address in Yulee. The address was put in for a cross reference search. Jessica’s driver’s license appeared, overlapping Michael’s in the HUD. Then they both slid into place side by side. A gigantic ❌ covered the address on the license plate. Large red text appeared which, in English, said “Driver’s License Information Does Not Match”.

The purple brick seemed to rev, as much as a hovering brick powered by forces unknown to humanity could, and shot off in the night toward the Shil’vati base.