Awakening

Lieutenant Alicia Aldernay didn't like Cazamar, but her orders didn't leave room for preference. He was her mission partner. Worse, she had to accept his command in matters directly involving their mission. Thankfully, although Cazamar was a competent interstellar pilot himself, Alicia retained command of those things connected with navigating their tiny starship.

Cazamar looked remarkably human. Almost. It was the "not quite" that cost Alicia sleep. He had slanted yellow eyes, with the vertical pupils of a predator. Tufts of soft black fur adorned the tips of his ears and the backs of his hands. The soft pads at the ends of his fingers contained retractable claws with razor tips. His eye teeth were wickedly pointed fangs. He spoke Galacta perfectly, but with a whispery cadence that betrayed his milk language. Most disturbing of all, his features were curiously immobile, making his moods and emotions difficult for Alicia to read.

And his eating habits! Alicia had to overcome a very human reflex at the thought. Cazamar liked his food living, and he played with it before shredding it with claws and teeth. Cazamar had been appalled by Alicia's reaction to his first meal aboard. Thereafter, to her great relief, he had taken all of his meals in privacy, but she could not forget.

Alicia didn't like to admit it, but she was more than a little afraid of her alien

companion. The controlled violence evident in his every movement filled her with distrust. The silent way he had of coming up behind her terrified her beyond all reason. Did anything in her look or smell remind him of the little animals that were his natural prey? She did not know, and she was afraid to ask.

Commander Epstein had been very firm. "I understand your misgivings, Lieutenant," he had told her. "I really do. But Ambassador Cazamar's people want a treaty with us. He's some kind of royalty to them, although I've never been able to untangle their family relationships. Now their nearest outpost to Earth has gone silent, and he has been ordered to investigate before concluding the treaty. By accepting our help, he is sending a message to his people a very important message that he does not believe we are responsible. Do you understand that we could be on the brink of an interstellar war?"

Alicia took a deep breath and nodded.

"Good. You will provide him with transportation and every possible assistance in investigating the problem. That's an order. You will launch in one hour. Dismissed."

That was how it had been, very cut and dried. No room for argument. Alicia had to make the best of it.

Now, two weeks later, she was wondering if she should have resigned instead of accepting this mission.

"Any problems?"

The soft, whispery voice at Alicia's shoulder made her jump. "Dammit, Cazamar! Stop sneaking up on me like that!"

"I did not 'sneak,' as you put it. I came to ask if you would like for me to relieve you for the evening meal. As you seemed troubled when I arrived, I asked if anything was wrong."

His reasonable words irritated her. "Nothing," she snapped. "We are on course, on schedule, and on autopilot. There is nothing to do until we enter the system, which will be another twelve hours, roughly."

He glanced up at the plasteel window, staring at the still distant star ahead of them, then slid into the seat beside her. "Yes." He turned to her, staring at her for a moment that felt like an hour. "We must speak, resolve this thing between us. May I ask a question of you?"

Alicia shrugged, still irritated.