Large claws raked through my hair. I woke up to a muzzle full of teeth in my face and an alien apex predator staring down at me with all four of her eyes… I was almost used to it by now, after however long it had been since my ‘adoption’. Was it three months? Four? If I wanted to know for sure I’d have to convert the Galactic Standard — Karnakian Universal in this case — to Terran and I mostly couldn’t be bothered since it meant little to me here. It was long enough not to have another terribly embarrassing accident, at least. I closed my eyes and turned over, mumbling nothing much in particular and complaining at life choices. CG warbled something at me contentedly, reaching out to my hair again and patting my body. I opened my eyes once more, peering up into the contented countenance of Cherry, my ‘owner’ in all but name. I batted at her softly and sleepily.

“Go ‘way CG, I’m tired.”

She deftly tapped my collar held in her claws — I don’t sleep with it on, wore it as little as possible — and it came alive, translating her speech for me. “[...So soft, and your soul-lights are so beautiful when you sleep.]”

Karnakians have four eyes, and whilst the front pair operated along the usual lines, the second set peered into a different world entirely. The minds of sentients sparkled like fairy lights in those other eyes; they called it our soul, most karnakians were adamant about it being our soul in fact. Nobody knew how it worked, even with all the almost magical technology of hundreds of thousands of years of alien progress, but whatever it was, it was very real and one of the biggest curve balls out there for our species to learn in such an offhand manner.

“I’m not sleeping right now.” I yawned, stretching indulgently in my king-sized circular bedding hollow. “I was, but somebody woke me up,” I added.

“[Soft human, warm human, little bundle of blankets… you look very comfortable.]” She nuzzled my curled up body, huffing air through her nostrils as she tasted my scent, checking on my health. Her breath tickled.

“Grumpy human, sleepy human, going back to sleep,” I replied, batting at her nose and pushing her muzzle away. She kissed my hands. She was very gentle, I’ll give her that, but Cherry was also very huggy. And insistent.

“[No! You’ve slept over [ten hours]! I was informed humans need only [eight hours] to be refreshed. Come on, get up!]”

The claws, the teeth, the tails and feathers, that I got used to surprisingly fast. The ‘days’ that took more than three of the days I was used to, that… that was something else entirely. Almost half a week’s worth of sleeps, naps, lunches, breakfasts and so on, all in the space of one single alien ‘day’. Compared to the aliens, it was like we humans were cats; we slept a lot, we wandered around during the ‘night’ and we apparently existed to mostly do one thing, which is ‘to be cute’. It was pretty awesome being a human, except for how amusing we were to the aliens when napping.

“[Pretty sleepy blanket-bundle!]” she murmured happily, feathers fluffing out in a matronly fashion.

“Coffee first, blanket-bundle after,” I grumbled, yawning. “First though, a nap.” I turned over yet again, pulling the covers over my head.

For a few moments I was at peace, then I was hoisted up into the air in a princess-carry, still in my blanket. I wriggled as Cherry — I’d taken to calling her ‘Cherry’ when not calling her CG since she looked like a green cherry and, well, that was actually kind of close to what her name sounded like, as much as Karnakian speech could be romanized — nuzzled my face.

“Oh get out of it! Fine! Fine! I’m up!” I complained.

She wasn’t having any of it and to be fair I probably would have gone back to sleep again if she had let up, so she tucked me under her wing-like arm like a hatchling and wandered through her dwelling until we were in the kitchen-slash-dining room.

Have I mentioned yet how belittling it is to be put into an almost literal high-chair? It’s not much better when they have human-sized and shaped chairs either, because in relation to everything else our normal-sized things look downright dinky, not to mention how the aliens have a bad habit of keeping their miniature replicated utensils on either pup, chick or ropelet colour schemes.

I was deposited into my throne of shame and a steaming hot only-slightly-too-large mug of alien wake-up juice was placed in front of me. I took a few appreciative sips to contemplate things, my collar idly placed on the table next to me. It was my second morning, roughly her lunch-break, and it would soon be time for her to continue teaching Gal-Script during a brief, for Cherry, period of down-time.

We lived on Zephyr Nine, originally a Jornissian arcology vessel on a slow-boat route through the universe, now parked further along Earth’s orbit and quite some distance from the original survey platform I’d been evacuated to, itself now christened ‘Zephyr Nexus’. It had been refitted and repurposed to take in a large number of humans and their associated ‘personal integration specialists’ and families for a century or so, however long it took us humans to recover from having our homeworld go up in flames.

The Jornissians were at least pragmatic about things and had instituted a lottery to stay onboard and therefore gain human companions. It was seen as a fair and just method for them to get in on the ground floor of the relief effort. Their offer gave their species a large number of said tickets, which were dutifully passed out amongst their own kind, and more of us humans flooded in with them. You may have thought I’d be separated from all things human, but whilst my ‘home’ life was with Cherry, humans were everywhere.

Cherry and I had moved into the ‘Karnakian district’ — not that there were restrictions and not to imply there weren’t all of the Senate species living there — of the main habitation level, where Cherry’s day job — finding more humans with the aid of what was left of the human army, themselves placed with members of the three alien species’ armies and peace corps — let her come home to nuzzle me until at least one of us was insensate between shifts, with said work and rest periods built around human sleeping rhythms and other needs. Come to think of it, a lot of alien life was now built around us humans, including huge efforts to sort out what food and drink we could safely have.

Karnakian coffee, something called ‘knukt’ once romanized, tasted surprisingly like spicy nutmeg-laced coffee mixed with chocolate. It had a kick like a mule to boot, with something not entirely unlike caffeine that imparted a very pleasant buzz upon imbibing. To be honest, I was half convinced it would have been made thoroughly illegal had it been sold on Earth the old way, so thank goodness it wasn’t. It certainly did the job, and it took very little exposure to acquire a taste for. Terran coffee was becoming more common, but the price was high enough once away from the ‘replicate anything at any cost’ areas that getting hold of it wasn’t worth it over the more than palatable knukt, and whilst I had ‘an allowance’ — whatever that meant when I could get most anything I needed by just asking — I didn’t need coffee that much, at least not after the withdrawal symptoms went away.

I can’t say I really understood the galactic economy. They had the technology to replicate anything at essentially zero cost as I understood it, but in order to prevent the otherwise inevitable genie-in-a-bottle excess and waste that would accompany the ability to have anything anybody wished for, had implemented some sort of ‘galactic resource credit’ on top. You didn’t have to work — especially not if you were a human, who was expected to do little but learn how to be a member of the galactic civilisation at large — but if you wanted to own that pleasure cruiser, you had to do something to earn it.

Cherry watched, with barely constrained enjoyment, as I drank my knukt. She wasn’t so much watching my face as watching my ‘soul’ though, she had that goofy, somewhat unfocused expression on her muzzle as she did so. Our souls’ brightness made us look even more like cute, wobbly, under-developed hatchlings to the Karnakians than it did to the rest of the Senate races, at least if you excluded the Dorarizin, to whom our basic ‘human’ scent was overpoweringly that of an abandoned pup, pushing all sorts of buttons.

“What’s gotten into you today?” I grumbled, batting at her as she fussed over me. If the high chair wasn’t embarrassing enough, a karnakian’s urge to nurture their young apparently extended to humans of any age and I had to fight her off from cleaning my face of imagined morsels.

“[I was going to keep it a secret, but I can’t! I have time off! Once you are done with lessons, we can go on a small… I believe you call it ‘a day out’?]”

“A what? To where?” I perked up. Getting out and about wasn’t exactly difficult and I wasn’t exactly restricted in where I could go, but even on a station as large as this, most of everywhere kind of looked the same as everywhere else.

“[To the basking level. It won’t take long to get there, so… freshen up and we’ll go as soon as you’re ready.]”

I widened in appreciation, and then narrowed my eyes, staring up at her. “Uh huh. Is there going to be a certain EM squire there? Chucky, was it?”

“[Umm, it’s… that level is for the free association and relaxation for all residents of Zephyr Nine.]” Cherry started preening her gleaming green-and-gold feathers, doing her best to keep them un-fluffed. I stared at her until she started picking her claws instead, then I chuckled.

“I’ll be on my best ‘lost little sheep’ behaviour, CG.” I softened my gaze. “He’s smitten with you, you know. Don’t worry, I’ll get him right where you want him. What kind of pet would I be if I didn’t look out for my owner?”

Cherry’s crest rose, as a squawk-growl of both indignation and shock-horror emanated from her lizard-like throat. “[You are n-not a… y-y-you’re… humans a-are valid, appreciated, fully inductioned members of the s-senate and-and—]”

I calmed her down by grabbing a claw — carefully, by the not-so-sharp bits — and pulling it to me. “Shush, shush, you’re so easy to tease, you know? Don’t worry, but… I’m not sure, I’m feeling a little bit faint today, maybe I should stay home…” I put the back of my hand theatrically to my forehead.

Cherry’s feathers fluffed out even more, if that were possible. “[Alright, what is it you want?]” she queried indignantly.

“I think bacon and eggs might make me feel capable of going to the basking level,” I replied, grinning. “Full English and I’ll definitely be on my absolute best behaviour the whole day, doing everything my owner could want me to.”

“[You’re lucky you’re cute, Dean,]” grumbled Cherry, as she moved away to poke at her fabber unit and fished through the refrigerator big enough to store several head of cattle. “[And I’m still not your owner!]”

“Gee Chucky, it sure is swell to see you here today! I was just telling Mommy I wanted to see you again! You’re my second favourite karnakian!” I chirped, fluttering my eye lashes. Cherry’s tail stuck out straight like she’d been electrocuted.

“[Don’t you dare say that either!]” The translator in my collar managed to convey her abject horror at the thought.

“No promises. Breakfast, then cuddle-blanket lessons whilst it goes down, then we can go on your ‘day out’.”

The official name of our destination was ‘The Basking Level’, but me? I’d call it The Beach Level, or just The Beach, as did most humans. Jornissians were… well the consensus was still out, as alien biology didn’t exactly match up with Terran notions, but they were at least somewhat cold-blooded. This station being a formerly Jornissian construct meant that their ideas of communal relaxation was a bunch of hot rocks around a central sauna-like arrangement. For the rest of us Senate races, we liked things a little less bone-dry, so they’d expanded the area somewhat, flooded a good deal of it for water-based recreation and protein, and hey presto, a beach.

If you’re fresh off the boat, as it were, you may not understand quite how large a Jornissian Arcology can be, any alien construct to be honest. Trust me, it’s sizable. Home to well over a million and a half inhabitants, with several decks or levels where a good deal of said inhabitants can all hang out in one go, this was why what had been Yearning for Gravity had been chosen as a Zephyr. The ‘top’ level was one giant space resort, with the diamantium dome being either lit up as if it were the sky, or darkened to show the brilliant stars through it. The space within was permanently heated to a pleasantly balmy tropical temperature, and it was so large that it came complete with its own weather systems.

I settled my sunglasses on my sun-cream covered nose as our space-shuttle-bus approached the central spire’s external docking pad. The sun-cream was mostly for moisturising my skin, although I’d be lying if I said that there wasn’t a higher amount of UV radiation on the Basking Level.

The large rear doors of the shuttle irised open and a blast of warm, humid air flowed into the cabin. Cherry stood herself up to stretch, then almost instinctively bent and picked me up, tucking me under her wing for the trip through the packed lobby leading to the Spire elevator down to the Beach proper. To be honest, I was glad she did. Most places on a Zephyr, where humans were at least, were kept deliberately slower-paced because humans were just so small, vulnerable and squishy, but not The Beach, and especially not the lobby above it. I would much rather be carried than try to avoid being stepped on. Besides, I was wearing my collar. I’d seen what could happen if it got the wrong idea.

A lot of folks resented their collars — me included — but I increasingly felt naked without it. The collar itself held my personal translator, voice-controlled planner and assistant and a military grade level of protection around a locator beacon that was almost impossible to block. It was all but unbreakable to boot, setting off some seriously high-level alerts if it ever was. The studs, quite fashionable to be honest, were personnel protection micro-drones and held enough charge to stun almost any would-be attacker — let’s be blunt, human trafficker — several times over and still protect the wearer from most physical harm. And the shiny tag had my ‘owner’s’ name and address on it, which made getting home a hell of a lot easier when I inevitably got lost in the overly large alien space-station I now called home.

The trip down the elevators was scenic, smooth and fast. At the bottom, we hopped onto one of several slow-moving land-trains, hopping off again several stops later once we’d crossed the lake to the shore over one of the bridges.

“[Chucky! Here we are!]” Cherry called, shortly after that. I was carefully put down onto fine, white sand and patted forwards. I shook myself out then strode over to Cherry’s beaux. He snaked his blunt head down to my face. I head-butted him softly in a familial greeting, knuckling my fist against his jawline. He whuffled a wordless greeting.

‘Chucky’, as I’d named him, was a yellow-and-red blotched saurian-style karnakian; less fur or feathers and more scales. He was sleeker than my Cherry, with diamonds of colour along his hide and down his tail. I could see what she saw in him. His crest was less spectacular and he couldn’t raise it quite so forwards, but the spiny feathers did fluff out as I greeted him.

“Having a nice day?” I asked him.

“[It is wonderful now that you’re here! I have replicated some toys for traditional human recreation! This is a beach ball! It fills itself full of air and then you throw it!]”

“I never would have guessed,” I replied, trying hard to keep a straight face. The lump of misshapen plastic-like material began to hum softly, inflating as the internal system pumped it up. At least it would save my lungs.

“[And this is an aerial disk! You… you throw it!]” He thought for a moment. “[A lot of human pastimes seem to involve throwing things. Or hitting things.]”

I nodded. “We like throwing things.”

“[Including your young. Very dangerous.]”

I snorted, punching him in the arm-wing. “It’s good for them. We catch them,” I added, “it’s not like we drop-kick ‘em like a football.” Chucky warbled unhappily whilst I chuckled. The thought of actually hurting one of us humans was unthinkable, almost painful, to karnakians. One day I’d have to ask about that.

I started stripping off, shucking everything down to the pair of swim-shorts I already had on under my normal clothes. In short order, I stood between the two giant alien space-raptors in nothing but colourful shorts and my collar, which I also took off, rubbing my neck.

“What?” I asked, handing it to Cherry. She was vibrating again.

“[He looks just like a day-old hatchling!]” hissed Chucky, who immediately made a strangled noise in his throat when my collar dutifully translated. I laughed at the mortified karnakian, turning it off.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” I said to him, head-butting him again before heading to the sparkling blue waters. “Ahh, that’s better,” I said to myself, wiggling my toes in the playful surf. It was lovely and warm in the shallows, but I didn’t intend to stay there long.

The beach level was huge, linked by roads up and down which travelled slow, stately land-trains and trails of pleasure-seekers. The humans with jornissians tended to ride them like large, no-legged horses — a few of the snake-like aliens even wearing what looked like saddles — whilst the humans with dorarizin were often dragged around in what looked like little wagons. I wasn’t sure which I was jealous of more, though I was sure they’d argue the same with me.

The Beach Level wasn’t just a single beach, it was a myriad of large, low sand-banks dotted around the central lake beneath the pillar that led up to the spaceport. True to its original purpose, there were a number of more substantial cliffs and rocky outcroppings spread around too, each with groups of well-worn, large smooth hollows for lounging about in as well. Each campsite-like arrangement was set out for small family groupings. An appreciable number were full of jornissians, but others had been appropriated by dorarizin and karnakians alike, each with their own human or human family in attendance.

This makes it sound like it was only a bunch of tide-pools between semi-private lounging spots, which it was for a good number of them — mostly full of children of all species, though the humans with children were kept noticeably separate — but it was far more than just that. My spot for example? It was right on the edge of where the deeper waters started, swiftly more than deep enough for small boats to float around in and out into the large lake and right up to the central spire.

Have I mentioned my ‘owner’ is a bit of a worrier? I may kid about the ‘owner’ part, but the worrying is spot on. I’d barely got up to my knees before, with a squawking, growling bum-rush, I found myself as securely held onto as Cherry could manage without hurting me.

“What? I’m just going for a swim!” I protested, as Cherry hoisted me into the air and carried me back to shore. A few minutes later and I was being let go for a swim again, but this time ‘properly attired’. By that, I mean I’d been ‘given’ two swim rings, a flotation jacket and arm bands. I couldn’t so much walk as waddle, and swimming was right out; I didn’t so much float in the water as above it.

This would not stand.

Chr'ter watched as her human waded into the water, waddling even less steadily than usual, before falling over. She calmed herself with every fibre of her being as the little adorable bundle of happiness struggled with his predicament until he floated happily, and safely, on his back in a few inches of water. To think he’d try something so dangerous as to go into water unattired! He could have drowned! Didn’t he know his kind couldn’t breathe water? Chr'ter pondered that for a moment. Maybe he didn’t? She turned to ask Chrk’chrk, but noticed that he was somewhat distracted, intently watching the human.

“|They’re so cute! You’re so lucky, ‘Ter, a little-needs-protecting all your own! Is he always this lively?|”

Chr'ter warbled happily as she watched her little-needs-protecting splash about in the water. He was indeed very lively, quite a change from how he was when he was sleepy, which was a lot of the time, just like a little chick. She felt a warmth in her breast as she thought about it.

“|You could always adopt your own, you know. With you working this hard in the relief effort, you can claim a token for it. I know with all of the galaxy wanting to take part in saving the little-needs-protectings, there aren’t enough to go around, but there are still billions of them that need caring, loving homes, and you’re already nesting in the right place for it.|”

Chrk’chrk made a soft noise in his throat. “|I… would like to share my nest with somebody I care for,|” he said, eyes locked on the struggling little-needs-protecting, as if scared to look away. Cherry’s Softy was spitting water and splashing it all about like a dorarizin cub at bathtime. Chrk’chrk knew the little-needs-protecting was no cub, but… somehow just the thought of hatchlings made his spleen jump. He wasn’t sure what had come over him. He’d never felt like this before. He turned to look at ‘Ter, and his spleen did somersaults. Ah, if only she knew.

It was the peeping that broke Chrk’chrk out of his reverie. He turned from gazing longingly at ‘Ter to staring at Softy, who was prancing about and squeaking loudly about how much fun he’d been having as he exited the water, dumping his swim-gear. Probably. Chrk’chrk didn’t have his commbead in, so he couldn’t understand the little angel, and Softy didn’t have his collar on either. As Softy finished removing his swim-gear and safety clothing, Chrk’chrk swiftly delved into his pack for the fluffiest of [beach towels] to wrap around the little-needs-drying. As he enclosed the smaller being in their warmth, ‘Ter moved to help. Their claws intertwined and the two raised their heads from looking at the little-needs-warming to looking at each other, bumping muzzles.

“|Oh! Sorry! I—|”

“|Ow! So sorry! I didn’t—|”

Both looked away, blushing, as they took a step closer, claws still entwined.

“|Y-you know,|” Chr'ter said, voice quavering, “|Softy s-says y-you l-like me.|” She tried to hide inside her feathers, glancing down at the still-loudly-squeaking Softy. She looked up to find Chrk’chrk looking at her, speechless.

“|I… I think…|” Chrk’chrk hemmed and hawed. “|I think… your little-needs-protecting…|”

“|Yes?|”

“|...Has tied our claws together with his [beach towel].|”

“|That’s wonderful! I lo— wait, what?|”

Did I mention the cliffs? I sped through the crowds of karnakians, dorarizin and jornissians, shorn of my annoying inflatables, climbing up the smooth, dirt path to the top of a nearby overhang. It was a good few metres down to the deep, blue, sparkling water beneath. The breeze, as artificial as the rest of the climate, was invigorating.

I heard the squawk-growl-chirping of Chr'ter and Chrk’chrk as they skitter-scuttled their awkward, joint way up behind me. They were fast, but not as fast as they usually would be, otherwise they would have caught me instantly. With the rapidly changing but already quite developed etiquette around us humans, short of there being an emergency, the other aliens around me stood aside, unwilling to get entangled in what could be trouble but quite willing to enjoy themselves watching my antics.

I raced to the top of the hill, turning as I reached the edge. This was it. I had to tell them how I felt!

“You can give us collars,” I shouted, “but you can never! Give us! Waterwings!” I leaped off the cliff, plunging with a whoop and a yell into the water below. Ah, beautiful cool water!

And that’s when things got… complicated.

As I surfaced, the Safety Enforcement skiffs were already closing in, flanked by swarms of drones. I maybe should have paid attention when it came to seeing how many humans were actually swimming.

“[Stay where you are! You are safe! You will be rescued! Do not resist!]”

The audio from the drones was deafening, as if the noise and pressure from the impulse effectors wasn’t already making my ears ring.

“Aaahhh!” I coughed and spluttered, turning around and making a swim for it as packs of security dorarizin threw themselves into the water with a multitude of splashes. More drones arrived, buzzing loudly as they doved and weaved to avoid each other in the air. There was a distant yet loud crash as two skiffs crashed into each other, dislodging yet more dorarizin with a tumult of yelps and howls into the briny deeps.

I sighed, stopping and treading water, as the effort to apparently ‘rescue’ me turned into a disaster all by itself. The thing which it seems a lot of these aliens forgot is that most of them can’t swim. They just don’t have the body fat for it, they’re too dense besides and even though they train for just such an occasion, they really, really couldn’t handle it in their usually safe day jobs. Until humans came along.

“Fine! Look! Stop! I can swim, okay! I’m perfectly fine!” I called, but by then the security forces were more worried about their own lives than mine.

“Oh, good grief,” I said with a sigh, turning around and swimming towards a ‘drowning’ dorarizin. “You really can’t swim, can you?” I asked, my voice drowned out — hah! — by the din, neither expecting nor getting much of an answer as I hooked my arm under her chin and started dragging her towards one of the skiffs. She was heavy, and it was hard work, but I was fit enough for this short of a trip.

Shortly after, despite being in pretty much direct danger of being sliced to ribbons by flailing aliens, crushed by careening boats and dunked on by zooming drones, I snagged another of the dog-like aliens and dragged her, too, towards one of the skiffs. Then I went back for another. I’ll give it to them, when they twigged they were being rescued — especially by a human — they let me get on with it.

It may, eventually, have turned out alright. I was able to swim, they could hold their breath a really long time… but the security forces, or the petrified people behind them worrying that a precious, irreplaceable human might possibly drown, had other ideas; in a terrible attempt to make it easier to get people out of the water, somebody turned off the gravity.

And that’s when things got worse.

I wheezed a little, coughing every now and then, as I sat between Chrk’chrk and Chr'ter, otherwise silently withstanding their combined admonishments to never, ever, ever do that again, and that didn’t I know I could have drowned, and that humans weren’t able to breathe water, and how could I be so thoughtless and that they’d never forgive themselves if they had to live without me, and how embarrassing it had been for me single-handedly — well that I objected to — shutting down the beach level for a good hour… I chuckled as I looked between the two of them, working together to dry me off and warm me up from my supposed near-death experience, concerned enough to not put my collar on me but insistent enough that they’d activated it to let me know how worried they were.

At least some good had come of this debacle. My two ‘owners’ huh? I idly wondered if I should start calling them ‘mom and dad’, and how much they’d either melt or freak out if I did so. Or how it’d look if they did both at once. I also wondered if ‘mom and dad’ did grounding or not, since it seemed like some official-appearing aliens wanted very much to talk to somebody about what had just happened. I shrunk inside my very oversized beach towel. It wasn’t like they’d actually dare blame a human, but I did feel bad for Cherry and Chucky. All’s well that end’s well, I guessed… except the fact that I had approximately a full day of Cherry and Chucky’s ‘time off’.

I sighed, slumping onto my back under the warm sun. Cherry and Chucky immediately squawking in worry. I batted them off when they tried to make sure I wasn’t dead, chuckling to myself as I did. I wasn’t sure how much more ‘fun’ I could handle, but I guessed I was going to find out.