The restaurant was one of the strangest Sarah had ever seen. Not so much in the seating arrangements—there were rows of dark booths along two long walls which looked like they could have been pulled out of any chain restaurant on Earth. But running across the tables of the booths and indeed, through the booths themselves, was what looked like a single long, narrow fish tank.
The tank was only about a foot and a half wide but it ran the entire length of the restaurant on each side. It appeared to be open on both ends so that it connected through the walls of the restaurant—which was called Fresh Catch—to the open ocean beyond.
Sarah watched with interest as various fish and other creatures swam through the long tank from one side of the restaurant to the other. Did Fresh Catch lure them in using bait somehow so that the patrons had a constant view of an ever-changing aquarium from their own seats? It was an interesting idea.
The waiter, upon hearing they were guests of Minister Obglod from a different galaxy, immediately led them to a seat of honor—the most centrally located booth in the restaurant. Sarah wished he hadn’t—she felt even more put on display by the way every other patron of Fresh Catch was staring at them. But she tried to put it out of her mind and concentrate on the hope that there might be something like fried shrimp on the menu.
“Now then, welcome esteemed and honored foreign guests. I’m Toodles and I’ll be seeing to your every need this evening.” Their waiter smiled widely at them. He was a thin Alquon male with deep green skin and purple mottling over his eyes which made him look strangely as though he was wearing glasses. “Have you ever dined with us before?”
“Never,” Sazar said and Sarah added,
“I hope you can teach us to use all these, uh, utensils.”
She motioned to the wide array of strange instruments which were laid in neat rows on the table, where a knife, fork, and spoon would be on Earth.
“Oh, these are your fishing tools,” Toodles the waiter explained brightly. “At Fresh Catch we promise you will have the freshest seafood experience anywhere in Idd. And you will—provided you’re a reasonably good fisherman!” He laughed at his own joke.
“So…we’re supposed to catch our own dinner?” Sarah looked at the tools on the table in dismay. There were sharp metal hooks, a long-handled net, and something that looked like a miniature harpoon as well as a shiny pair of metal tongs.
“Catch it and cook it,” Toodles said, nodding. “Here is your cooking medium.”
He pressed a button on the end of the booth and a round pot filled with some kind of bubbling dark blue liquid suddenly rose up into the middle of the table.
“Is that some kind of oil?” Sarah asked, quickly covering her exposed breasts. She didn’t want her nipples to be flash fried by popping oil droplets!
“Oh, no! This is our own private broth recipe here at Fresh Catch—anything you cook in it will be delicious, guaranteed.” Toodles grinned toothily at them.
“So…we just start fishing and throw what we catch in the pot?” Sazar asked.
“I guess so,” Sarah murmured, picking up the long thin net and wondering if she could catch anything in it. It seemed better than spearing a live fish with the harpoon looking thing—more humane. Although if she caught something live in the net and threw it in the pot, she would be boiling it alive. Either way the coming meal seemed less and less appealing.
“Oh, you can’t catch your meal without some help!” Toodles looked shocked. “Let me fetch your catchems.”
He disappeared for a moment and returned with a box which reminded Sarah of a small pet carrier. And indeed, when he opened the wire door, four creatures about the size of large mice or hamsters scuttled out.
But these were no hamsters, Sarah saw with a shiver. They looked to be part crab and part lobster—at least their bodies did. Their faces looked strangely cat-like with large luminous eyes, pointed ears, and long whiskers. They were a dull, gleaming silver all over except for the glowing eyes which appeared greenish-blue.
“What are those?” Sazar asked flatly as two of the creatures sidled over to him and stood at attention by his plate.
“Why, the catchems, of course. Some people call them “silver fingers”—because of their coloration, you know. Here at Fresh Catch we pride ourselves on having the best trained catchems in Idd.”
“How…how exactly do they work? I mean, what are they trained to do?” Sarah was keeping her distance from the two crab-cat creatures who had scuttled over to stand by her own plate. They seemed to be staring up at her with interest in their huge blue-green eyes and she wondered exactly how intelligent they were…and how much it would hurt to be pinched by one of their disproportionately large claws.
Inwardly she winced. A hot pot full of boiling liquid and crab creatures crawling on the table—could she have picked a worse time to be basically topless with her large breasts out and vulnerable? She wished she had tiny breasts, like most of the Alquon women she saw in the booths around them. Many of them were almost flat—in no danger from the catchems or the boiling pot of broth. Sarah’s breasts, on the other hand, were large enough that if she leaned forward even a little they would rest right on the table. Not good.
“They’re very well trained,” Toodles repeated. “Just tap them on the back with your wand…” he picked up a long silver knitting-needle looking instrument, “And they’ll go to the tank and catch you some delicious, fresh seafood.”
“If the, uh, catchems do all the work, what are all these items for?” Sarah wanted to know, pointing at the various implements on the table.
“Oh, you can have the catchems help as much or as little as you like,” Toodles explained. “Tap them once to simply have them hold an item for you to spear or net yourself. Tap twice if you want them to dispatch the creature so you can scoop it up in your net. Or, if you’re feeling lazy, tap them three times to have them catch, kill, and bring your fresh, delicious catch directly to the pot for you.”
That sounded like the way to go for Sarah but she still had questions.
“What about when we’re full?”
“Just wave your hand in the air and I’ll come take them away. No muss, no fuss. Any other questions?” Toodles was already eyeing a large, rowdy party of Alquons who had just come in the door. He was clearly eager to get away.
“I think that about covers it,” Sazar said dryly.
“Good! Well, enjoy your meal!” And the waiter hurried away to seat the large party.
“Well…this isn’t exactly what I pictured when Chandra said this place had fresh seafood but you have to admit it’s different,” Sarah remarked.
“Different indeed,” Sazar growled. “This seems like a lot of work for a meal of dubious quality. Do you want to go someplace else?”
“I don’t see how we can,” Sarah objected. “We already let it be known we’re being sponsored by Minister Obglod and, uh, Toodles put us where everyone can see us. We’re representing the Kindred and Earth, right?”
“We are.” Sazar nodded. “But if you’re uncomfortable we will leave. I see no reason to put you through any more traumatic experiences today.”
Sarah was touched that he was putting her feelings before the mission but it only made her more determined not to give up.
“No,” she said lifting her chin. “I’m fine—I like the kind of place where you cook your own food. Before my parents joined The Brotherhood, we used to go to the Melting Pot all the time for special occasions.”
“The Melting Pot? What’s that?” He frowned.
“A fondue restaurant. Basically you have a pot on the table—a little like this…” She indicated the bubbling pot of dark blue liquid. “And you dip things in it or cook things in it. Like, they bring you a big pot of cheese and you dip bread and apples and carrots into it. And for the second course they bring you meat and veggies and you can either cook in broth or oil. And the third” She closed her eyes briefly, remembering. “Oh God, the third is the best.”
“What is it?” Sazar sounded really interested.
“Chocolate—a big pot of melted chocolate.” The memory made Sarah’s mouth water. “It’s sooo good. You can pick white or dark or milk chocolate or a mixture and they give you fruit and brownies and pound cake to dip in it…” She trailed off. “Well, I’m going on about it too much. I just really loved to go there when I was younger.”
“Before you went to live at the Compound,” Sazar said quietly.
“Yes,” Sarah murmured. “Before that.” She wondered if he would push for more information. Part of her wanted to keep her past at the Compound a secret but part of her wanted—no needed—to talk about it. She hadn’t felt that way before but somehow she did now.
The big Kindred only smiled though.
“Well, I think this Pot that Melts sounds delightful.”
“Melting Pot,” Sarah corrected. “And it is! It’s really nice. We’ll have to go there sometime when we get back to Earth.” She bit her lip, realizing what she was saying. “Uh, I mean, if you want to,” she finished lamely.
Oh my God, screamed a little voice in her head. Did you just ask your boss out on a date? Did you really?
But Sazar’s smile hadn’t faded. Sarah remembered thinking that he would be handsome if he smiled and damn, had she been right! The sharp-edged features were softened by his expression and his pale eyes seemed warmer too.
“I’d like that,” he said quietly. “It would be nice to go out together when we’re not on a mission.”
Sarah’s heart seemed to miss a beat. Could she really believe that her gorgeous Kindred boss wanted to go out with her?
“I…I’d like it too,” she nearly whispered. “They, uh, have a special Christmas menu—if we get back in time.” This made her remember she was supposed to ask about Tsandor spending Christmas with Sophie and her family but somehow now didn’t seem the right time.
“Then we’ll go,” Sazar murmured. He reached across the table and took her hand in his large, warm one. “I look forward to it.”
“All right…” Sarah felt she was in danger of falling into those pale eyes of his and never getting out again. If she didn’t do something soon she was going to start babbling. “Um…I guess we should, uh, start fishing,” she murmured, tearing her gaze from his.
“I guess so.” Sazar sighed and picked up the knitting-needle type implement which Toodles had called a “wand.” Carefully, he tapped each of the catchems three times on their dull silver shelled backs.
At once the two hamster-sized creatures scuttled over to the narrow glass tank, easily scaled the steep sides, and plopped into the running water.
The bottom of the tank was filled with grayish shells and pebbles and the catchems blended into their surroundings beautifully, their dull silver carapaces offering natural camouflage.
Soon a bright red fish about as big as Sarah’s palm swam through the long narrow aquarium. The catchems crouched at the bottom of the tank and the moment it swam into range, their big claws shot out to catch it.
One catchem caught the fish by its tail and held it, struggling in the swift current. The other catchem cut off its head with a quick snip of its silver claws and shoved it, bulging eyes, gaping mouth and all, into its own kittenish maw. Its long whiskers twitched while it chewed.
The first catchem now cut off the tail and ate it, then ripped open the fish’s belly and pulled out the entrails which the two creatures shared.
“Wow,” Sarah remarked uneasily. “Their claws must be really sharp.”
“Indeed,” Sazar murmured. “I guess now we know why they are so well trained—they get a bit of everything they catch for their own dinner.”
They watched as the catchems climbed out of the tank, bringing the fish’s decapitated and gutted body with them. Sarah remembered Toodles saying they would even throw it in the pot and wondered how they would reach it. The metal surface of the boiling pot was too hot to climb and it was almost twice as tall as the diminutive catchems.
But she hadn’t counted on their ingenuity. Holding the dead fish, one catchem climbed up onto the other one’s back. The one on the bottom crawled as close as was apparently comfortable to the pot and the one on the top tossed the fish into the bubbling liquid. Then the two of them scuttled back to Sazar’s plate and looked up at him expectantly.
“Wow,” Sarah breathed, amazed at the little creatures. “I can’t believe they just did all that. They must be really smart.”
At her words, the catchems standing by her own plate got a little closer and started making a low humming sound.
Wait a minute—they’re not humming, Sarah realized. They’re purring. Do they know I just called them smart? Or is this the way they beg to go catch fish?
Whatever the reason, she found her unease at the cat-crabs was considerably eased. She didn’t care much for the crab part of them but their kitten-like faces really were adorable. Sarah had always been a cat person and she especially loved kittens.
“Hey, little fellas,” she murmured, daring to use one fingertip to stroke the fuzzy tops of one of the catchems’ heads. “Hey, you’re kinda cute, aren’t you? In a weird half-crab kind of way.”
“I’m not sure you ought to do that,” Sazar remarked. He had already sent his own catchems back for another fish. “They’re not meant to be pets, I don’t think.”
“But they like being petted, don’t you fellas?” Sarah crooned, stroking the head of the other one. It sniffed her and rubbed its cheek against her finger, exactly like a cat. “Aww…see? He really likes me. He—oh!”
Her words ended in a gasp because the catchem she’d been petting suddenly skittered up her hand and onto her arm. From there it ran right up to perch on her shoulder and rubbed its furry cheek against Sarah’s own.
“Clearly he does indeed like you,” Sazar remarked dryly. “I think you have a new friend, Sarah.”
“This isn’t funny,” Sarah exclaimed, seeing that he was laughing at her—or smiling anyway. “I don’t think—oh!” she gasped because the other catchem had run up her other arm and was sitting on her other shoulder.
“Well, you’ve certainly charmed them,” Sazar said.
“I didn’t mean to though,” Sarah wailed. She had been all right with petting the little creatures but she didn’t know how she felt about having them sitting on her shoulders, purring in her ears. Their faces might be as cute as kittens but their bodies were still chitinous and crab-like. She could feel their little claws pricking her bare skin sharply.
“Well, I don’t think—” Sazar began but just then, his own two catchems, who had been hauling another decapitated fish to the pot, suddenly abandoned the piscine carcass and also ran up to Sarah.
“Oh no,” Sarah told them. “No, not you guys too! You’re wet!”
But her protest was to no avail. Sazar’s catchems also ran up her arms and since her shoulders were taken, these perched on the top slopes of her breasts like bizarre silver jewelry.
Sarah was painfully aware that the sharp-clawed creatures were dangerously close to her exposed nipples. What would she do if they decided they were hungry and her enticing pink peaks looked like food?
“Sazar,” she moaned softly. “Sazar, I really don’t like this.”
“I don’t blame you. All right—that’s enough,” he said, reaching out to pluck the catchems from her breasts. He put them down on the table and reached for the other two on her shoulders. But the moment he let the first pair down, they scrambled right back to Sarah’s side of the table. As fast as lightning, they skittered up her arms again, this time perching in her hair.
“Hey, no—no!” Sarah gasped. Then she felt something crawling on the back of her neck. Was it one of the catchems? But no—she had two catchems on her shoulders and two in her hair, so what was it?
“Excuse me,” an indignant voice from the booth behind her said. “But there’s no need for you to take our catchems. Ask your server for new ones if you don’t like the ones you were given.”
“Oh, no,” Sarah moaned as she felt two new catchems climbing all over her back. These were wet too and she could feel the cool, ticklish trails of water they were dripping down her shoulders and spine.
“Hey, what’s going on?” someone demanded. “Where are they all going?”
Sarah looked up and saw to her horror that more catchems were on the way. Their big blue-green eyes were wide, their mouths open in eager mews. And at least a dozen were headed straight for her. The diners whose tables they had left were staring angrily at her and pointing as though they thought she had lured them away on purpose.
Which is ridiculous, Sarah thought wildly. Who would voluntarily have dozens of cat-crabs crawl all over them? And how am I ever going to get them off?
She didn’t want to hurt the catchems but to be honest, she was even more concerned that one of them might hurt her. She had at least seven or eight clustered together on the tops of her breasts now and she was afraid any minute one of those deadly claws was going to grab one of her exposed, vulnerable nipples.
“Help!” she gasped. “Please, how do I get them off me?”
“The prophesy,” she heard someone say. “You know—the one about silver and ivory?”
“You think?” someone else asked. “Really?”
“Yes, I do. Just look—” But the rest of the strange conversation was drowned out in a sea of voices.
All this time Sazar had been alternately plucking catchems off Sarah and waiving for their waiter, who was busy serving another group and either couldn’t see the big Kindred’s waving hand or was ignoring it. Now Sazar had apparently had enough. He stood to his full height and bellowed to be heard over the rowdy crowd.
“Toodles, come here now before I rip your fucking throat out!”
This, of course, got the attention of both their errant waiter and the entire restaurant. If everyone inside Fresh Catch hadn’t already been staring at them before, they certainly were now.
Toodles came rushing over and when he saw Sarah’s predicament, his eyes grew wide.
“Oh my goodness gracious me!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing to the catchems?”
“It’s what the catchems are doing to Sarah,” Sazar growled. “Just look at her!”
“But how did this happen?” Toodles gasped.
“I don’t know and I don’t fucking care,” the big Kindred snapped. “All I know is you’d better get them off her now.”
“But…I don’t know…” Toodles dithered.
Sazar took him by the shoulders and glared him in the eyes. He bared his teeth at the waiter, letting the other male see exactly how long and sharp his fangs were.
“I said, now,” he growled. “You say you’ve got the best trained catchems in the whole city? Well fucking prove it.”
Toodles went extremely pale.
“Yes,” he muttered, his eyes wide. “Yes, of course. I’ll see to it at once.”
He rushed away and was lost in the crowd that was beginning to gather around their table. They all seemed fascinated by what was happening to Sarah but no one but Sazar was even trying to help.
“Just hold on, sweetheart,” he growled, picking the catchems off her and tossing them into the long, thin aquarium, which they promptly crawled out of and came running back to her. “Hang in there. We’re going to get all these off you.”
“Please, please do!” Sarah felt almost frantic by now but she knew she had to hold still. If she started thrashing around—which was what every nerve in her body was screaming to do—she might startle the catchems into attacking her instead of just crawling and clinging to every inch of her they could find while purring and meowing in her ears.
Why did I ever pet them? Sarah thought in despair. And how am I ever going to get them off me?
She had the same awful feeling she’d had once as a child when a palmetto bug—one of the huge flying roaches native to her home state of Florida—had landed on her arm. The crawling sensation of the disgusting thing had made her scream and flap her arm wildly to get it off. That was the way she felt now with the catchems all over her but she knew she couldn’t give in to the impulse. She just had to sit there and deal with it.
Still the crawling sensation was almost more than she could bear.
Shouldn’t have thought about the palmetto bug—shouldn’t have thought about roaches, she thought miserably. The awful memory made everything worse and the feeling of being climbed all over by many, tiny, chitinous claws was maddening. I’ll go crazy if I don’t get them off soon, Sarah thought wildly. Completely crazy!
Suddenly Toodles was back, shoving his way through the gathering crowd. He was pushing a rolling silver cart and on top of it was a cage like the one he’d originally used to bring out the catchems for their table—only this one was much bigger. It looked big enough to hold dozens if not hundreds of the little cat-crab creatures.
Sarah eyed it skeptically.
Great. So there’s the cage—now how is he going to get them back in it?
Her question was answered when the waiter put a silver whistle to his lips and blew three, short, sharp blasts on it. He was quite close to Sarah when he did it and the noise was deafening—but at least it had the desired effect.
The catchems began climbing off her as fast as they had climbed on. Dozens of them jumped off her breasts and onto the table—using her almost like a human trampoline. At least that was the half-hysterical image that filled Sarah’s mind. But at this point she didn’t care how they were leaving as long as they just left.
Soon all but a few of the cat-crab creatures had skittered across the table and jumped into the large wire cage. The ones that were left were mewing hysterically and tangled in Sarah’s long brown hair, which had long ago come down from its bun.
“Hold still, sweetheart,” Sazar murmured as he picked the distressed creatures carefully off her, untangling their flailing legs from the strands of her hair. “All right now—I think that’s all of them.”
“Are you sure? I swear I can still feel them on me…all over me!” Sarah rubbed her arms, trying to get rid of the awful crawling sensation which still lingered even though the catchems seemed to be gone. She wanted to get up and leave the restaurant but there was too much of a crowd around them. It seemed that the Alquons were almost as nosey as the giant tizen which had been staring in the bathroom at her. They wouldn’t move an inch, even when Toodles begged them to.
“Please, would all guests return to their seats?” he asked, trying again to make his thin, reedy voice heard above the babble. “Please, there is nothing to see here. Please go back and leave these fine people alone.”
Nobody budged and Sarah saw lots of them had little flat black squares they were pointing at her. Was that the Alquon version of a cell phone or a camera? Was she going to be plastered all over their social media as the girl who was attacked by cat-crabs?
“Please,” she whispered desperately. “Please, I just want to go home.”
“Enough of this,” Sazar growled. He moved from his side of the booth, pushing the shorter Alquons physically out of the way when they wouldn’t step aside, and reached for Sarah.
Before she could say a thing, he had swept her up and was holding her to his chest, above the babbling crowd.
“Out of the way,” he roared, making her wince and put her hands to her ears. “Fucking move!”
But his deep, base voice had the effect that their waiter’s exhortations to the crowd hadn’t. The Alquons looked at the big Kindred uncertainly and began to clear a path.
“That’s more like it,” Sazar growled. Holding Sarah close, he left the milling crowd behind and at last, to Sarah’s intense relief, got them out of the restaurant.
She took a deep breath and it came out in a shuttering, shaking sound that was too much like a moan. Sarah clamped her lips shut before more moans followed. Her nerves felt as though they had been strung as tight as harp strings and some cruel musician had been plucking them for hours.
The catchems crawling all over her, the pressing, babbling crowd, the feeling of being vulnerable and exposed…it was too much. Just too, too much. She put her head against Sazar’s broad chest and shook silently, feeling like her whole body was going into overload.
Feeling like she would never feel normal again.