Partnership

In which the duo spends a few moments together.

     Akela and Taji went straight their supervisor’s office. Akela gave her report while Taji waited outside for her. He started to flop into a chair, and stopped himself. He sat down in the chair, glancing about surreptitiously to see if anyone had noticed. Too many humans still thought of his people as savage beasts. He curled his tail under the chair, and kept a straight and dignified posture. Slowly, however, he allowed himself to lean back, just a little, against the back of the chair. An older woman strode by briskly on her way to the elevators, her heels thumping on the carpet just a little faster as she walked past him, her eyes glancing down at his polished shoes. Her back straightened, and he waited for her to step onto the elevator before he let out a long sigh. She was one of those in the building who thought of him as Akela’s servant, and waiting outside the door on her wasn’t helping that image. He found himself wishing he’d at least grabbed his tablet on the way out the door, but he had only been walking out to the car to greet her! He could leave, and go back to the office, but he needed to know if Akela was going to get this job. Chances were, she wouldn’t come back to their office if she did. She would either go home, or she would drive out of town, back on the hunt again. This could take a while.

     Their supervisor’s office door opened five minutes later, and Akela walked out, satisfied. He stood, surprised, and walked beside her as she walked to the elevators.

     “That didn’t take long,” he commented as she mashed the elevator button impatiently, “So you’re leaving now?”

     “Right on the mark!” said Akela, “I’ve finally got something to do! After weeks of spinning my wheels in circles, listening to endless silence!”

     “It’s hardly been a month, and you’re already restless?”

     They went in and Akela hit the “3” button and said, “Restless �" hell, Taji, I’m dying of boredom.”

     Taji snorted, “You’re bored. This, to me, just means another week or two of watching you, looking things up for you, and keeping track of your data for the boss to look at it. I mean, I like this job, but I hate sitting around. We’re not made for it, you know? Do you have any idea what I do when we’re not working? I do not, by the way, consider myself silence.”

     Akela laughed, “You know what I mean! Usually I can pick up on a ghost story or a fairy tale. Some new monster haunting Misty Lane. Some little boy swearing to his madre that he saw a genuine dinosaur. �" Ah, and speaking of what you do with your time, Ry’s mother sends along her greetings.”

     And they stepped out of the elevator. She looked up at him, and smiled. His face felt hot, and he knew it must be blood red under his fur. Why in the world would Rayen do that? They had just spoken that morning!

     He smirked, shaking his head, and tried to avoid the subject, “I still can’t believe you’re back with another job. Can’t you just stay here for a while? You know, keeping up with you is a lot of work, and I have a date tomorrow night. Eight to eleven. I will not be in the office.”

     She stepped in front of him and ruffled the fur on his snout with both hands, playfully, trying to reassure him. Taji grunted and shook his head away, trying to smooth his fur back to its immaculate state, the hotness of his skin deepening. He was grinning, though, despite his embarrassment.

     Akela reached up, gently this time, and stroked her fingers down the furnace-like length of his neck.

     “Alright, partner,” she conceded, “I quit.”

     He half-wished she’d meant her job, as much as he’d balk if she really did something like that.

     They walked down a white-washed hall with a thick, durable, dark blue carpet, made for mezoi with claws, so they wouldn’t slip on tile or wood or get their claws caught on the fibers of ordinary carpeting �" unnecessary, in Taji’s case, but many refused to wear shoes, and considered him a conformist. He had never been quite sure if he was, himself.

     Taji opened the door to their office �" a wonderfully spacious room with a wall-length window.

     “Ookay,” said Akela as she settled onto a rotating stool in front of her computer, “So I’m going back down the road tonight, and I’ll find that boy tomorrow and figure out where he saw that thing. Then . . . I need a story.”

     “You’re a biologist looking for a new species of. . . .”

     “Lizard.”

     “Last time, you were with the animal control looking for a rabid cat. I liked that one better. This is good, though. I guess. I suppose it fits the uniform. As long as you don’t �"“

     “Call the mezoi a lizard �" if it is a mezoi. I’m hoping I’ll know when I find its tracks. Or the mezoi itself. This shouldn’t take too long. It can’t have been too big for that little boy to have outrun it.”

     “He must be some runner.”

     Taji settled down in front of his own computer station, which consisted of four thirty-five-inch monitors set on a semi-circular table, along with drawers full of paperwork. Two monitors were connected to one computer, and the other two were each their own separate module, the computer and the monitor all one piece. The remaining desk space covered in papers apparently all set in an order that Akela had trouble following �" but as long as Taji did what he was supposed to and did it efficiently and effectively, she didn’t care. His station also consisted of a copy machine and a separate scanner and printer. He had fiber-optic Internet access on the dual-monitor computer and a multitude of other things Akela didn’t understand on the other two. One of them had a window open in the corner, where he could watch Akela’s monitor. He got to work immediately, his carefully filed claws tapping and sliding across the monitors deftly.

     The main point was that he could find out whatever he wanted at any time he felt like it. He even had a key to the building and their office so he could stay up all night working if he needed to. It was a subject of controversy among many human workers, but other trackers got to have their assistants and their equipment go with them on the trail. Their supervisor gave Taji every chance he could to keep Akela working. She was good at what she did, and Taji’s ability to work with her from a distance had proved astounding.

     “Found it,” Akela said, “I had the car’s license plate number and I tracked down the address.”

     “I know,” said Taji, “That much is basic �"“

     “Shut up, genius,” Akela laughed, “and tell me how to get there.”

     “Alright, then, let’s see. . . . oh, I don’t know if I can find it!”

     She spun around in her chair, “You’re stalling, Taji.”

     “Anything to keep you around for five more seconds,” he murmured as he stared at a map of the area. The satellite image had shown him a lot of trees. What was it like, to live in a place where, for mile up mile, there was nothing but trees? What on Earth had happened to his ancestors, that his people could no longer survive in such a pure and beautiful world? His parents, like many of his people, believed that there was a disease out there. Many of those whom Akela tracked down had to be quarantined for months, and could never remember what had happened before they left. Something horrible was out there, that ate away at the mind. He found the quarantine part highly suspicious, but suppose it was true? His people would be turned into mindless zombies, or something. The idea almost made him grin, despite the morbid possibility of its actuality.

     “Taji? The joke’s over, partner. The address is �"“

     He touched the map, his momentary reverie broken, “Print.”

     The map printed on Akela’s side of the office.

     “Two things,” she said slowly, “One: how long have you had access to my computer? Two: since when has my printer been that fast?”

     Taji laughed, “I connected to your computer about six months ago and fixed your printer yesterday. I had to totally replace half of it, but it works now. You really should upgrade your equipment every now and then. With modern equipment, not refurbs.”

     “Works? It’s like it’s brand new! I like my equipment old. It’s easier on the environment.”

     “I shall take that as gratitude, then?” he asked.

     She grinned at him, and picked up the map.

     Taji sighed. He couldn’t help sulking, and he had a funny feeling about this job.

     “Look,” she said, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

     “Oh, yeah,” he said tonelessly, “Only I have this gut feeling that �"“

     “You and your ‘gut feelings!’” she cried, cutting him off, “You keep that kind of stuff to yourself because I don’t need to hear it! Everyone else is fine with the way things are, why aren’t you?”

     “Remember, we’re one of the one teams in the city that willingly pairs humans with mezoi.”

     “And the only one with a mezoi-human pair that works outside the city.”

     “Half-way outside. That’s what bothers me. I must be the only mezoi who knows what’s out there and can’t see it for myself. I’m glad that I can do a service to my people,” he would keep telling himself this, but the more he said it, the more it felt like a lie, “but I just wish sometimes I could go out there with you.”

     She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Relax, will you? You’re better off here.”

     He spun about sharply to face her, and she jumped back in surprise.

     “But haven’t you not noticed?” he cried.

     She shook her head. “Noticed what?”

     “Everyone you’ve ever retrieved came back no different than when they left. That last cambo was gone for over five weeks before you were called to retrieve it, and you got it back within the next three days and it was just fine. Not only that, but it had caused no damage at all. The only lead you had was that it was gone �" no one outside had seen it. The people aren’t a contaminant �" is it the trees? Are they so dangerous? Are we so sensitive? That mezoi last October, the spinosaur-type one with the orange salamander skin and green stripes. Nothing happened to him. He’s working in construction, now. Nothing happened to him, beyond that fight he had with another of his kind, which has nothing to do with being out there. You said they were fine, but they were put into quarantine, anyway, and that construction worker says he doesn’t remember anything, except that now he’s afraid to go out there. How dangerous can it be for us to leave?” he began to plead, “I just want to follow you, just once. I can hide in the back of the truck or something. No one has to know!”

     The look on her face was appalled, as though he had just spoken blasphemy. She was speechless for a moment, but finally said, “I need you here, Taji. I’d love to take you with me, but I can’t. I need to do my part of the job, and you need to do yours. Besides, it would be illegal if you did that, and I need to keep my reputation with the gate-keepers. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m sorry, okay? Okay, Taji? What would Rayen do if something happened to you?”

     He looked down sullenly, back to his computers. Akela set her map down and threw her arms back around him. Her skin was warm and smooth against his fur, and he didn’t want her to let go. He tried to hide the tears developing in his eyes, and stared determinedly at the monitors in front of him. Not all of his kind could cry like this, and he had never allowed her to see that he could.

     “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” she whispered, “I promise.”

     “I know,” he said almost inaudibly. She could hear his voice getting hoarse, so she pulled away from him and picked up her map.

     “And then I’ll talk to the boss man about some vacation time. You sound like you need it.”

     “We just had a vacation,” he muttered darkly, thinking of the long weeks alone in the office, tracking her movements all over the Georgia countryside.

     He heard the door shut, and sighed, touching one clawed finger to the media player that sat open on his third computer, “Vivaldi.”

     A message popped up, asking him to state the play mode.

     “Track order. Play all.”

     The joyful sounds of Primavera began, flowing flawlessly from a state-of-the-art wireless surround system he had installed, sounding as though the orchestra were there in the room with him. He tapped it again, surprising himself with a soft growl in his throat.

     “Stop. . . . Playlist.”

     Artist, Album, genre, or item?

     “Item. . . . Arabia. . . . Track order. Play all.”

     Soft, Middle-Eastern notes, from a land he could not hope to set his eyes on, slowly filled the room. Percussion wove its way in and out seductively. He leaned back, and listened, as the nusic darkened, telling a moving tale of passion and despair, light and darkness. He felt his breathing start to normalize as he focused on the music, and made himself forget his anguish.

Reviews

[Jimbobbedyjobob]

Some kind of brain-washing is afoot!

Well, it does grab one's attention, and it definitely draws one in.
Nice style. Not overly explanatory which is great.

Though from this excerpt I am left wanting to know better what Taji looks like. Which I suppose isn't a bad thing, again it draws one in.
Though on second thoughts, you have gone in to quite detailed description of Taji's working environment, but not of him. We know he has a tail, fur, a snout and claws, which isn't an awful lot to go on. But we know how many monitors he has, how they are set up, to which external devices they are linked etc.

Personally I might shorten the desk description and give more insight into how Taji looks. Though you may be leaving that for later. So feel free to ignore me.

And there are a couple of typos. But I guess I'm not here to review those. Mind you, Taji's line " I do not, by the way, consider myself silence." did confuse me. I wasn't sure whether you intended to use the word 'silence' in a way relevant in this universe that I couldn't understand, or whether it was a spelling correction foul-up of another word.

Anyhow that's my tuppence. I really am not sure what is expected from a review on here yet :/