A Little Pussy

by

Carl Bussjaeger

Willem Van Rijn is bright, creative, able to integrate odd facts and see unusual possibilities that would escape most people. Those are good in an inventor. But he's a little weak in the follow though, "That's cool, but what could go wrong?" process. Jeannette Hunter is bright, tolerant, and cautious. She makes a good counter-balance for her peculiar partner. Between the two of them, they just might make one good parent. Copyright © 2012 by Carl Bussjaeger      This is a work of fiction. Characters presented do not portray actual living persons, with the possible exception of the fuzzy predator who bears a striking resemblance to my cat; but that's probably a coincidence.      This entertainment is intended for the use of rational persons and may contain information that is unsuitable for overly sensitive persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humor, and other federal agents. No animals were harmed or molested in the production of this work, although vegans should be aware that plants are living and just might feel, and they take so long to die. Do not fold, bend, spindle, or mutilate, or expose this document to electromagnetic pulses. This material protected by Chrono Displacement Services, and may not be reproduced without permission; unlicensed use may result in temporal instabilities, paradox, or the second coming of Bozo the Clown.

     The slim, dark beauty drifted in from the pressure hold with a sodden p-suit liner in hand. She eyed the chunky man wedged into a chair at the dining table, completely absorbed in his datapad display, surrounded by hardcopy flimsies pinned under fridgmagnets. A few seemed to have escaped to settle into orbit around his head.

     “Billy,” she said with restrained exasperation, “are you still sitting on butt? I could have used a little help with the load.”

     Bill Hunter glanced up from the screen. “Hey, babe. All done?” While Bill pored over spacecraft specs, Jeanie had been supervising a couple of 'Port 'shoremen in stowing supplies for their next run. They rarely made it in as far as Earthspace, and she'd taken the opportunity to stock up on local goodies like range-fed beef, such luxuries still being pricey as hell outside of the gravity well.

     She snorted. “Yeah, I'm done. No thanks to you, lazybones” She pitched the damp liner at him. “Here, take care of this.”

     Bill caught the incoming garment in one hand, and a few spatters of sweat in the face. “Ech. Why do I want your dirty laundry, wench?”

     “Second Tuesday, chambermaid. Your turn to do laundry.” Her lips curled up in an evil grin. “Unless you want to swap for algae filter cleaning.”

     He offered her a timeworn digital gesture. “For the first time in two months, I didn't... coincidentally,” he stressed the word, “pull that one out of the job jar. Not bloody likely.” He turned toward a basket against the far wall, wadded up the liner, and, “He shoots!” He tossed the garment at the clothes hamper, only to see it bounce off the edge of the springloaded lid. “He... rebounds” Bill lifted from the chair and stuffed the wayward clothing into the basket.

     Jeanie shook her head. “Can't help with cargo, can't shoot for shit. What do I keep you around for anyway?”

     Bill leered and waggled his eyebrows at the shapely lady. “Come over here, sweetcheeks, and I'll remind you.”

     “Lay off, Lothario.” She glanced at the clock on the main control console of their craft. “Speaking of reminders, did you remember to start some spaghetti? Company's comin'.”

     “Sheisse,” Bill said embarrassedly. “Nah, I got into the plasma drive thingy specs and forgot.” He moved to the kitchen area and rummaged in the fridge for the appropriate packets. “No worries. Got plenty of time before Alex gets...” The shipcomm chimed, interrupting him.

     “Kali spera! Hola!” came a woman's voice over the speaker. “Anybody home?”

     Jeanie evil-eyed her procrastinating partner. “You were saying?” She grabbed Bill's 'pad from the table and tapped an icon. “Come on in, Alex. All clear, Bill's on a leash.” The lock began cycling.

     “In your dreams, bondage-babe,” Bill shot back. “And if you pull out those cuffs again, I'll show you new and perv...” He smiled and looked past Jeanie to the young woman entering the room. “Hi, Alex!”

     The new arrival was a wiry, well-formed blonde with a long yellow mane drifting behind her like a cometary tail. She left some bulky packages hanging in the air and closed in on Jeanie with a hug. The ladies exchanged greetings.

     Bill watched and declared, “Hey! What about me? Don't I get any?”

     Both women began speaking at once, and Alex Dohnalek deferred to the older woman. “That remains to be seen, boyo,” Jeanie replied. “Be good and we'll see. Later.”

     Bill grinned. “I'm always good.” he made a fair attempt at licking his eyebrows, but failed for lack of adequate equipment. “But I was talking to Alex, you sex maniac. How 'bout it?” The last to the visitor.

     Alex smirked, and her eyes narrowed. “We'll...” She paused. “Could be, Billy,” she said cryptically. But she gave him a solid hug anyway.

     Jeanie gave the girl a gentle push toward the table. “Sit, sweetie. Billy's just putting on dinner for us. Right, Bill?” she prompted.

     Bill's gaze slipped from the complementary set of lovelies to the frozen packets sucking the heat out of his fingers. “Oh. Uh, yeah; right away, boss-lady.”

     “Oh. Don't bother,” Alex corrected. “I can't really stay. I'm...”

     “What?” Jeanie demanded in semi-mock outrage. “But you just got here. We haven't seen you in months.”

     Alex put her hands against the table and rose from the chair Jeanie had planted her in. “I know. And I wanted to spend more time.” She sighed. “But I got another vid from my new boss, and they want me to get there by yesterday, or earlier if possible. I guess a mission came up.”

     Bill's ears pricked up. “So you did take that job with Stados' outfit at Shon?” He referred to the Cassid company which had sponsored the alien probe the three had encountered a few years prior. Companions of StarFinders, based on the Cassid homeworld, was in the business of interstellar exploration via normal-space probes carrying space-shortcutting teleportation “doors”.

     “Well, duh,” Alex replied sarcastically. “As if I'd turn down a chance to get paid to go to new star systems? I'm just glad they're interested in hiring humans.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I think that part might be something of an experiment for them.” Grin. “It sure is for me!” Then her face fell again. “But I need to get there quick, and there's a Cassid fast-boost shuttle leaving for the L5 Door in an hour, and I have to board right away.” One of Bill's errant sheets drifted by her face, and she snatched it it out of the air. “Oughta tack those things down in freefall, you know. Speaking of which, I thought you were going to get a suite in the grav section; why're you still in the Imp?”

     Jeanie sighed loudly. “Because someone was too much of a wimp for the Port's quarter-g deck,” she explained with a look of utter disdain at her partner.

     “Hey, now!” Bill objected to the ladies. “This is a vacation yet. I wanted to relax.” He shrugged. “And do you know how long it's been since I had to stay in anything over a sixth of a g?”

     Alex grinned as Jeanie chanted, “Seventeen years, five months...” She glanced at her wrist 'pad. “Six months next week. You do recall me sitting beside you on that shuttle when we escaped dirtside?”

     Alex glanced at the 'copy in her hand, then held it out to Bill. “Plasma drives? Looking to upgrade Imp at long last?” she wondered.

     “Naw,” he replied, accepting the sheet, which he stuck under a magnet on the table, “thinking about replacing her at long last. Been looking over specs on the plasmadancers.”

     “Plasmadance...” Alex looked puzzled.

     “Sort of like ion engines,” Jeanie supplied helpfully, “but inside out. Instead of using electrostatics to accelerate on-board reaction mass, you run out governmentally huge stators and charge 'em up to voltages that resemble a dirtside government's national debt. That works against the solar wind.”

     Enlightenment... enlightened the blonde's face. “Yeah, I've heard of those. Didn't know any were on the market yet. Aren't there some pretty serious power issues, though?”

     “They're electron-sucking power pigs,” Bill admitted. “The idea's been around forever, but it wasn't practical until the Cassid started exporting their focus fusion generators.”

     “I dunno,” Alex said doubtfully. “They'd be pretty mass limited payload-wise, right?”

     “Too true,” Jeanie spoke up once more. “Which I've been trying to tell the man.” She spread her hands in a gesture of surrender. “But he makes one excellent point...”

     “Only one?” Bill waggled his eyebrows in a manner likely in violation of multiple Earthly blue laws.

     Jeanie eyed him sideways and continued. “So Bill has one point: your payload may be limited, but so long as your helium-three for the reactor holds out, your delta-v is effectively unlimited. Really long range trips start looking sorta-semi practical...”

     “And I want to check out Saturn,” Bill chimed in again. “Besides, we don't go hauling pulverized asteroids around anymore.”

     Alex gave the pair a speculative examination, then said, “I don't know as that should be allowed. You got away from your keepers once, headed out to Jupiter...”

     “Trojans,” Bill corrected pedantically.

     “...Jupiter's Trojans, and look what happened.”

     Jeanie grinned. “We did get rich.”

     “There is that,” their guest conceded. “Um, why Saturn anyway?”

     Loud sigh. “Because book-boy here,” Jeanie swept one hand towards Bill, “has been reading old damned scifi again. Hogan, I think.”

     “And Callin,” Bill reminded. “Don't forget Saturnalia.”

     “I try to.” She faced Alex once again. “Anyway... It might be fun, and a plasmadancer would make the trip doable...”

     “Eek!” Alex exclaimed as her datapad beeped. “And on that note, I have to start my own trip. I gotta go! Work... and money.. call.”

     “That sucks space,” Bill complained. “The leavin' early part, I mean. Not the job.” Jeanie seconded the sentiment.

     Alex grinned again. “But I had to come anyway, because I have something for you.”

     Jeanie lit up. “Oooo. Presents!”

     The blonde retrieved her floating packages. She flipped a small, flat parcel at Jeanie. “Mikey in Receiving heard I was headed here and asked me to give you that.” She set another, much larger package against the tabletop. It was a gaily gift-wrapped box. With odd...

     Jeanie scanned the label on her mail. “Who do we know named 'Zorac' on Shon?”

     Bill was examining the pretty parcel pensively. “Whu... Oh, That's Stados; he's using that as his human-space business name. Alex, why does that box have... air holes?”

     Odd sounds emanated from the package. Jeanie squinted at it. “And why is it squeaking at us? And why is Stados using an alias?”

     Bill replied to the second question. “ He thought it would be chillin' to use a kinda-human type nom de plume around here. He went through a bunch of books looking for fictional AIs. He kinda wanted to use Merlin, but I told him Zorac was a little more upbeat. And with the buzz and click, it's almost like a Cassid word, too.” He frowned at the box. “It did squeak.”

     Alex gave them a superior stare. “That's not a squeak. It's a meow. Sort of.” She lifted the top from the box and began to reach in. But the contents escaped first.

     “Bleeert! Mraow?” the small bundle of camo-calico fuzz inquired, as it floated above the table, little furry paws clutching air helplessly.

     Bill stared. “It's a... cat,” he decided.

     Jeanie reached out carefully with a finger. The little calico reached back. “It's... a kitten.” She countered.

     Alex pulled the little fuzzy carnivore to the table, where it seemed a little happier with the semblance of stability. “It... She... is Glassy,” the girl corrected them both.

     Bill looked at Jeanie. Jeanie looked back, then to Alex. “Ah... Glassy? Looks fuzzy to me,” she wondered.

     Alex stroked the cat's back, then toyed gently with the tips of its ears. “Her name. Glassy.” The catling batted Alex's fingers away from its ears, and emitted a rusty rumble.

     “Glassy?” Bill asked in obvious confusion. “Don't... cats... usually have names like Fluffy or Snuggles, or something terminally cute? A cat union rule, or something?”

     “Yes, Glassy,” Alex asserted firmly. “Because she's a silly cat.”

     Jeanie stared in wounded outrage,

     Bill muttered, “Sili...” He groaned and planted one palm against his forehead.

     Alex smiled proudly.

     Jeanie turned on Bill. “I blame you for that. You're the one who got her started...” She stopped abruptly, and faced the blonde again. “Why are you inflict... I mean, giving us a cat?”

     The younger woman grinned. “Practice.”

     “Practice?”

     “Practice,” Alex confirmed. Then she relented. “Actually, Mama told me you two were finally thinking about starting a kid – and bloody well about time,” she inserted parenthetically. “So I thought you could start with something... simpler to look after.” She smiled at Jeanie. “Not that you'll have any trouble.” She lifted the cat and presented her to a dismayed Bill. “Hold her. Gently. She likes the top of her head rubbed. Leave her ears alone until she gets to know you.” Back to Jeanie. “But you know Billy's gonna need all the help he can get.”

     “True,” Jeanie allowed, choking back laughter.

     Alex pushed off from the table. “Sludge! Look at the time! I've gotta go.” She launched the second box to the other woman. “Litter box, kibble treats, and some catnip.”

Jeanie wore an expression of complete lack of surety. “But, Alex; I know nada about...cats. Bill?” she said questioningly.      “Do you...”

     “No prob!” Alex chirped cheerfully. “There's a care-and-feeding type book there, too.” She grinned at Bill struggling to contain the inquisitive critter. “Billy, think of it as an ops manual, and Glassy as an addition to you bio systems. You'll be fine.” She glanced at her wristpad. “Gotta go now!” She grabbed Jeanie for another hug, and then planted a quick kiss on Bill's receding hairline. “Bye! Have fun.” She escaped to the lock before her victims could further respond.

     Bill stared at the fuzzy feline. “We've known Alex... what? Four, five years?” He said idly.

     Jeanie glanced up from the box of kitty cargo she was inspecting. “Yeah. 'Bout that.”

     He shook his head. “Five years. And she finally gives me a little pussy.” He sighed and stroked the cat's soft back. “Talk about 'unclear on the concept'.”

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