Page 3 of Mazorium Buys a Human

“She is mine,” I growled.

“Oh, well, yes,” the clerk said, fussing with his information square. “But I still need proof of the winning bid, and you need to formally agree to abide by the station’s code of conduct with the merchandise you purchased here.”

I unclipped my Identification Cube from my belt again, and after a few taps, I showed him my Ident numbers and ownership.

Chittering nervously, he tapped on his information square. I wanted to continue to reassure the human, but I kept my attention on the clerk. Once I was done with him, I’d have plenty of time to dedicate to my pet.

“Press, please,” he said, holding out the square. I pressed my hand to it. The square chimed, and the clerk pulled it away. “You’re her official owner and responsible for any damage or mischief she might cause.”

Once he’d said that, he hurried away.

When I turned to face my human, I was confronted by the sound of her pup wailing with discomfort. Worry filled me, and I searched for the location of the station's medical bay on my Ident. It wouldn’t be as sophisticated as what I’d find on a Talin station or ship, but it would have to do.

“I’m sorry your offspring is ill,” I said, noting the location then reclipping my Ident to my belt. “But I’ll see that the medical staff treat the pup with gentle care.”

“Ill? Medical staff?” She looked up at me, clearly confused and scared.

“You’re pup is screaming,” I pointed out. The infant probably cried a lot because the human couldn’t cure it. “I’m your owner now; it’s my job to see to your health. The pup won’t die. I promise.”

It was a bold promise to make. I didn’t know if what was wrong with the pup was treatable. At the moment I thought hope was more important than accuracy.

The human still looked confused but less scared. “She’s probably just hungry.”

“Then we’ll obtain food,” I said. “I’m going to pick you both up. Don’t fight me.”

“Wha—?”

Whatever she was about to say ended in a gasp when I swept her into my arms. I didn’t want to waste time talking when every moment might mean the pup was a mircromark closer to death.

They were only a slight weight in my arms. I marveled at how warm and soft the woman felt held against my chest. I could smell the dirt from her captivity, but under that was her unique scent. It made me want to press my nose slits against her skin. Nothing in the literature mentioned humans having an appealing smell. This would require further study!

There must be a gap in the research. I could study my new pet carefully and write up my findings. I could contribute much needed information to the knowledge about caring for human pets.

But that was for later, after I made sure my human and her offspring were healthy.

It took all my attention to navigate the busy station corridor without jostling my precious cargo. When I got to a corridor too crowded for me to continue, I looked down at the human. She’d nestled against me as if she already trusted me. It was a pleasant feeling, making warmth spread through my chest.

“I’m going to make a loud noise,” I warned her. “Don't be alarmed.”

Her wide eyes were fixed on me. At least they weren’t leaking water anymore. “Yes, sir.”

I resisted the urge to shift her higher so I could nuzzle her with my face. That would be inappropriate, wouldn’t it?

“Move,” I commanded the others in the corridor, forcing myself to refocus on getting my humans to the medical bay. Isounded an aggressive rattle, making several individuals jump out of my way. Some of them grumbled, but no one challenged me.

Of course they didn’t.

The rest of the way to the medical bay was easier and I didn’t have to rattle. It was with great relief that I walked through the entrance and addressed the first member of staff I encountered.

“This is my human and her offspring,” I said, clutching them gently to my chest. “You will provide them with the best of care.”

I’d startled the Doringo med tech, but once she realized it was the pup crying, she rushed into movement. She called out to the other med techs, and soon I was being led to a bed.

“Lay your slave here,” the med tech said. “Then we can begin our exam and provide you with a treatment cost.”

“She’s a pet, not a slave,” I explained, ignoring the comment about cost. It didn’t matter how much they charged, I wanted my humans healthy.

I gently deposited them on the bed. I didn’t want to let go but knew they wouldn’t be able to properly assess her and the pup if I was holding them. It was especially hard to put them down because the pup was still crying inconsolably. I had a strong urge to keep the pup in my arms and sway gently while sounding a comforting rumble.