he shoves me inside and slams the door behind me.
This cage isn’t tall enough to stand up in, so I am forced to crouch and peer out. There is a door not far away which leads out to the counter where aliens come to retrieve their lost pets. The catcher leaves it open so I can see out to the reception area.
It is not long before I hear the squeal of a hinge which needs attention, and the squelch of a rubbery beast entering the building.
This is the problem with all my escape attempts. I always end up back here, in this cage, and my owners always know where to find me. Including my current one, who has just slimed his way in.
I bristle in the shadows, growling softly under my breath. He’s four hundred pounds of pure asshole, and I hate him. I’d rather stay in this filthy cage forever than be returned to his so-called care.
“Can I help you, sir?”
The catcher speaks respectfully. He wasn’t respectful when he yanked a rope around my neck and threw me in here, but that’s because humans are one of the only species nobody in the universe seems to fear. No claws. No poisonous exudates. Not even a decently sharp tooth. On our home planet we had the ridiculous advantage being the only animal with opposable thumbs. Well, guess how far opposable thumbs get you in the big wide universe where every dominant species has them, or tentacles, or something even better. Precisely fucking nowhere. We stopped being proud of our thumbs real quick, or at least I did the second I realized that not only are we not alone in the universe, we aren’t even particularly special.
My ex-owner is a Vitari. In human terms, he’s a huge slug. He’s also a huge asshole.
He slimes up to the counter, his single foot — which is also the entire underside of his body — rippling with wet sinuous motions, goo sticking to the floor in his wake. Somebody is going to need a mop for that.
“I’d like to report a lost human. She might have been caught and ended up here.”
“What did your human look like, sir?”
“She has yellow hair, and she is wearing a collar which spells out “Itch” in her native language.”
“Is she particularly itchy? We have a few that won’t stop scratching themselves.”
“Not particularly. The B fell off.”
The catcher is fucking with him. He knows my name. He knows I’m back in the cage, but the catcher is an official and officials never make anything easy for citizens.
“She’s here,” the catcher says. “I can release her after you’ve paid the fine.”
“There’s a fine!?”
“We do not condone loose humans in this region, sir,” the human-catcher says. I can tell he’s practically shitting himself having to tell my ex-owner that. He’s a scary dude with his bad temper written all over his face. Any moment his rectal valves are going to open, and a stream of faintly radioactive excreta will emerge from within his form and turn the whole room into a contamination zone for the next eighty years. He might be a big slug, but he’s not defenseless.
“She’s not loose, she ran away!”
“All owners are responsible for confining their pets, sir. She’s a multiple time escapee, so the fine is higher.”
“This is ridiculous. I demand to speak to your manager!”
“I am the manager, sir. Any pet who has escaped more than three times attracts the highest tier of fine. Humans can be very destructive if left to their own devices. They’re a lot more intelligent than we tend to give them credit for.”
“Not this one. She’s dumb as a block.”
“A block of…”
“Any material you might choose to name. I’m not paying any fine to get her out. I already paid more than she’s worth to buy her.”
“If you identify her, we can destroy her for you. Or find another buyer. She is relatively young and female. There are some breeders on the station who like to mix humans with other species and see what comes out.”
“This one bit me every time I tried to breed her. She’ll have to be restrained if she’s going to be used.”
With every word, I get angrier, but no less helpless. These bars are more than up to the task of holding me back. My flesh is weak, but my fury is stronger than anyone can imagine.
The aliens discussing my fate know I can understand them. They probably know I can hear them. They don’t care.