CHAPTER 80

 

TAC’MOT

 

Tara’s sister expresses how ‘Crazy!’ everything seems to her.  She adjusts well enough, especially once there are a number of other humans that return to the ship.

They seem to be quite the social species.

So I am both gratified and humbled when Tara breaks away from the others in order to find me.  Not that I was so very far away, but I kept a polite distance, respecting the females’ need to interact sans other beings.

I also feel great nerves.

For how the other aliens will view me, for how the humans will view me, and mostly, for what Tara’s young will think of me.

Brax has ahold of one, and she is talking to him nonstop, either so rapidly or so garbled that my translator is unable to decipher any of her words.  He appears mystified and amused at her diatribe, but he humors her with occasional noises of agreement, which seem to thrill her, making her want to squeeze his nose and call out more foreign words.  Unable to communicate.  This feels so familiar.

Tara, arms laden with the other child, reaches me and manages to rise on the tips of her toes, offering her lips up for a kiss.

I oblige her, and dare to hook my arm around her back, tugging her into me, the youngling now on the far side of her dam, my hand tucked next to her body.

She peeks around Tara for a closer look at me, and anxiety spots race across my skin for a click before disappearing.

“Tac?”

I look down at Tara.  “Yes?”

Her eyes narrow just the slightest fraction, then they soften, and her bottom lip presses into her top one, her lines of eye fur scrunching close and tipping just the slightest bit up.  It all happens so quickly I’m having difficulty determining what this micro expression means, but her voice comes out reassuring.  “It’s all right.  She likes you, you know.”

I can barely make my eyes turn in the offspring’s direction.  “You think so?” I finally manage, but I cringe at the hesitant note that the words take on.

“Tac, she’s been asking to see the Kangaroo since we got in here.”

I had heard the child’s excited voice repeating that word.  My translator provided nothing to match it.  “What is a kangaroo?”

Tara’s smile is a bit sheepish.  “A super, super cute Earth animal.”

Cute? Super cute?

I reflexively scratch along my arm, which is essentially just brushing my fingers back and forth, now that Tara has sanded my nail tips so flat and so finely.  “She is not afraid of Kangaroos then?”

Tara looks surprised.  “She’s never had a reason to be afraid of one.  She’s only ever seen them at a petting zoo, and it was almost as gentle as you are.”

“Kangaroo!”  The youngling says, clearly enunciating the word, as well as clearly following along with the topic of our conversation.  She points to me and claps her hands excitedly.

Baffled, I peer at her, and I’m at least relieved to find I can meet her gaze now.  Eyes as soft as her dam’s, there’s no fear, no disgust.  In fact, she’s quite beside herself.  And… she’s spotted.

“She has spots too?”  I say, shocked.

Tara looks down at her as if equally surprised to see them there.  “Well, yeah.  You think I could be covered like this and my kids wouldn’t get at least a couple?”

“She is wearing more than a couple,” I say seriously, admiring how much this female looks like her dam in this way.  It is quite heartwarming.  “Is it normal for your kind to display them so early?”

“Not really,” Tara says, her tone thoughtful.  “Genetics play a big role I guess, because most kids don’t get freckles like this until they’ve had a few years in the sun.  Sure, my girls love to play outside, but they look like they’ve seen more sun than all of Arizona.”

At that moment, she wriggles out of her dam’s arms and races around to hold her arms out to… me.

“It’s okay,” Tara whispers.  “Really.  She likes you already.  You can even pick her up if you feel comfortable.”

It’s not that I’m afraid to pick her up, it’s only that I’m shocked this female would want me to.  Tentatively, I move to reach down, and end up having to catch her as she launches herself as high off the floor as she can.

‘As high as she can’ is only about the width of a human hand, and this was so much shorter than her goal that she would have crashed to the floor if I hadn’t been here.  As she pats my arms, and pets my knees, then squirms down to race around me to lift, then drop and experimentally poke at my tail, I ask, “Which one is she?”

Tara covers her face.  “I’m so sorry!”  She drops her hands.  “My brain is fried.  “Megan, come here please.”

Reluctantly, Megan does as she is bid.  Tara takes her hand, then finds my hand and meets our palms.  “Megan, this is Tac.  Tac, meet Megan.”

I let my back arch over, feeling brave enough to set one hand on the floor for balance, because I know Tara isn’t disgusted, and this tiny female proves my unusual form of mobility is merely more for her to be thrilled over.

“HI TAC!” she shouts with exuberance and a great volume of enthusiasm.

I’m about to respond at a more restrained decibel, though I’m so heartened at her welcoming demeanor that my own enthusiasm is overwhelming me, when a weight lands heavily on my back.  Cold pinches grip my sides.

Afraid for Megan who has no immunity to me, I move to hop back, but I see that my skin isn’t spotting up with color.  I’m twisting my torso to see what grabbed ahold of me when I hear Brax’s growl.

“I said, ‘wait.’”

There is a human on my back.

She is grimacing and cringing under Brax’s mildly gruff rebuke—that is, until she sees that I’m looking at her.

Then she forgets about Brax’s existence entirely.

The pinch over my ribs eases the moment she lifts a hand to pat me on my ears.  I twitch with every tiny contact.

“Simone.”

This is the voice of her dam.  Her tone is also mildly rebuking, and Simone bites her lips, shrinking against my back, her chilly hands once again pinching my skin as she holds on to me.

Tara explains, “You don’t jump on people, you know better than that.”

She goes through introductions, but I’m marveling over the fact that Tara considers me ‘people.’  Her offspring—sort of—consider me a person.

And an animal.  But at least they don’t look at me as if I am a bringer of disease.  I can handle being thought of as super cute animal-person.  “It’s very nice to meet you, Simone.  Your hands are as cold as you dam’s feet.”

“And backside,” Brax mutters before he calls, “Here,” and he brings his cupped hands to his mouth, breathing fire on them.  Then he takes Simone’s tiny ones between his, and she makes a startled moan and bounces in place.

Bounces! She bounces!

I turn a disbelieving gaze on Tara, and find she’s already watching me, her smile broad, and her eyes shining bright with happiness.