The Wilder Lands
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Impure - Chapter Nine
🕑 Added 2024-11-29 05:07:28 +0000 UTC*****
Chapter Nine
*****
Argos smiled at the cheetah. “Well then, shall we finally head to dinner?”
“Yes, please! I’m ever so hungry.” Rivi hesitated, flattening his ears. “But wait. What if someone sees us coming out of the closet together?”
The coyote stared at Rivi, unsure if he was joking or not. When it became clear the cheetah was serious, he cracked the door open to peek into the hallway. A few people walked passed in either direction. Argos didn’t care who saw him, or what they assumed he’d been doing with the cheetah. But Rivi clearly felt otherwise. The last thing Argos wanted to do was give the scholarly feline something else to fret over. He waited until the way was clear, then slipped out and beckoned for Rivi to follow him.
“Pretty sure no one saw us.” Argos closed the door behind the feline. “But if anyone asks, just tell them we’re off duty janitors looking for some bleach.”
“Y-yes, that’s right,” Rivi said, lifting his voice. “Just two maintenance workers, not yet in uniform!” He glanced around, staring at a random group of humans dressed in fine dining attire as they strolled by. “We were looking for bleach! For…bleaching things!”
“Now you’re just making it sound suspect.” Argos ushered Rivi down the hall, away from the increasingly confused looking humans. “If you wanna avoid suspicion, you damn sure don’t wanna draw attention to yourself. If no one’s looking, don’t give them a reason to. If they are looking, just act like you belong there. Remain calm, and just go about your business. Most people aren’t gonna bother looking real close, or questioning what you’re doing unless you give them a reason to. If you see people looking your way, just give them a casual greeting.”
As Argos walked, he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. He made a show of turning his head and offering a polite smile to a female wolf looking their way, as she passed the other direction. “Evening, Ma’am.”
“Good evening.” The wolf returned the smile and greeting with a little nod of her head.
Argos soon glanced at Rivi again. “See, Spots? Like that. I coulda been strangling someone with a piano wire in that closet, and she woulda never known the difference. But if I’d been running around all panicked, or telling people not to look in the closet, what do you think they’re gonna do?”
Rivi scrunched up his face. “That’s quite the unpleasant example.”
Argos shrugged, walking along at a leisurely pace. “Point is, people are apt to believe whatever they’re presented with. Same goes if they did decide to stop and ask you what you were doing in there.” Argos cleared his throat, then flicked his ears back into a slightly irritable expression. He pulled a hand from his pocket, waving it dismissively. “Ah, I was just lookin’ for some bleach.”
Rivi nodded. “Won’t they question why you’re not in uniform? Or what you need the bleach for?”
“Not usually.” Argos returned his hand to his pocket. “Firstly, it ain’t really their business. And even if they’re feeling nosy, people are less likely to bother if they think you’re already irritated about something. If they really wanna push it, keep your answers vague, but believable. Ask me why I was looking for bleach.”
The cheetah fidgeted with his sleeves. “Why were you looking for bleach?”
Argos grunted, rolling his eyes. “Some bratty kitten ate too many sweets and puked all over the shitter.”
“Ew.” Rivi made a face, his nose crinkled up. He tilted his head, still playing along. “So you’re a janitor? Where’s your uniform?”
“Just got here.” Argos curled his lip, ears set in feigned frustration. “Ain’t even been assigned a bunk yet, and they already put me to work. Damn dirty refugees are gonna be the death of me yet.”
Rivi gave a little gasp. “Argos, that’s a terrible thing to say about…” Then he trailed off, blinking. “Oh, you’re still playing your janitor character, right?”
The coyote chuckled. “Yeah, Rivi. If someone won’t stop pushing, you can always try throwing them off your trail by getting them riled up about something else.”
“Right, right…” Rivi rubbed his hands together, pitching his voice into something skeptical and pompous. “I do say, you mangy scavenging coyote, if you’re a janitor, why were you in the with that finely-appointed feline?” Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m sorry about the insults! I’m pretending to be a racist, suspicious aristocrat!”
“Very convincing, Spots.” He pulled a hand free from his pocket again, then jerked a thumb towards the cheetah. “Oh, this little bastard? He’s still in training. Dumber than he looks, after all. He’s about to get a trial by puke, though. Say, you got any more questions, or can I get back to finding the damn bleach? Cause that first class shitter ain’t gonna reopen again till I get it cleaned up. But don’t worry, steerage is still open, if you gotta go. Might get piss on your shoes, but it’s better than nothing.”
Rivi crossed his arms. “I suppose I deserved that line about my intelligence, given what I said about your people.”
Argos waved his hand. “Nah, I was talking about some other, totally theoretically feline. If I was talking about you, I’d have said you were my supervisor. Cause you clearly look like the smart one between us.”
A smile brightened Rivi’s face. “Looks can be deceiving, I suppose. You clearly know vastly more about most things than I do.”
“Nah, not my most things.” Argos shook his head. “Staying alive in the world? Sure. Firearms, whiskey, and kickin’ ass? Definitely. But there’s a whole hell of a lot of stuff you know that I sure as shit don’t, too.”
Rivi shoved his hands into his pockets, the same way Argos had. “Such as?”
Argos clenched his jaw to keep from laughing at Rivi’s latest attempts to emulate his mannerisms and posture. “Think about it, Rivi. You’re a scholar, right? That would you did for a living, prior to this pilgrimage?”
The cheetah nodded. “Yes, I held a high-ranking archivist position at the Church’s most acclaimed library. I also worked as a scribe, and librarian. And I sometimes was required to give small lectures on literary works, and well-known scriptures to various groups of university students.”
“See,” Argos said. “You’re smart as shit, Rivi. No way I know half as much as you when it comes to literature of…” The coyote snorted. “Well, any kind. I read pulp garbage now and then, and that’s about it.”
Rivi shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying pulpy fictious works. As I mentioned earlier…” He put a hand to his chest. “I myself consider radio serial adventures to one of my guilty pleasures! The more outlandish, the better. And novels can be the same. It just so happens that literature is one of my primary specialties.” He ticked off a few fingers. “Along with scriptural interpretation, and of course linguistics. Then I suppose, artistic pursuits, and photography, and so on. And I’m quite good with arithmetic, I just find it insidiously boring compared to the untold adventures of literature.”
“Ugh, don’t get me started!” Argos tossed his hands up. “You should hear Iosa, when we’re prepping for an assignment.” He lifted his voice to a whiny pitch. “Argos, how many rounds did you bring? Argos, how many grams of powder are packing in those explosives? Argos, don’t you know that ratio is going to be wildly unstable?” He snapped his teeth. “What am I, made of fucking numbers?”
The cheetah chirped musical, feline giggles. “I should hope at least you’d measure for something so dangerous.”
The coyote smirked, glancing at Rivi. “I eyeballed it well enough.”
As they walked together, the corridors gradually grew busier. Soon, the din of distant voices told Argos they had nearly reached their destination. Around another corner, a long, amorphous line of people filled up the hallway. It stretched on for ages, and eventually reached the entryway to a large dining hall. A small lounge operated nearby, selling drinks and snacks. Its limited seats were already packed, but a separate counter allowed customers to purchase a beverage to drink whilst waiting in line for the restaurant. A single, extremely busy fox with white fur and a waiters uniform hurried up and down the line, delivering drinks to those stuck waiting for a table. Voices roiled and bubbled, bouncing off the wood-paneled walls. The mingling scents of so many varied peoples couldn’t quite cover up the tantalizing aroma of roasted meats and vegetables, or the tempting, sharp and sweet smells of alcohol.
Argos grit his teeth. He’d hoped to beat the worst of the crowds, but their detour for a heart-to-heart chat delayed them longer than he’d anticipated. With any luck, Iosa was still here, and holding a table for them. While Argos could throw around his special status, he didn’t really want to be the asshole seen cutting in front of starving people who’d only just gotten in out of the snow. At least joining someone else who was already here gave him a reasonable excuse.
“This looks awfully busy.” Rivi gazed across the crowd. “Do you think your friend is still here?”
“Let’s hope so. She’ll be inside, if she is.” Argos started forward, pushing past people. “Stick close, Spots. And keep your billfold and anything else valuable in an interior pocket. With your hand on it, if possible.”
Argos shepherded Rivi through the masses. He kept a close eye on the feline, ensuring not only that Rivi did not stumble into anyone, but no one unsavory bumped into him, either. Despite his advice, he wasn’t sure the cat would notice a pickpocket even if he literally saw them carrying off his own billfold. As they made their way towards the front, Rivi muttered apologies and attempted to explain that they were VIPs, meeting another VIP who was already present. Argos decided against telling Rivi that would only make people feel as if he was rubbing their faces in his status. He could try to explain all that to the cheetah in the future, after Rivi had enjoyed an easier day.
They eventually reached the entrance to the restaurant, where several sets of glass paneled double doors were all fixed wide open. A kobold stood on an elevated platform, behind a an attendant’s podium. Nearby, a single gnoll in a security officer’s uniform and with a rifle slung over his shoulder kept watch on the crowd. A few more unarmed gnolls conversed on the side of the doors. A large, stylized sign with glowing blue electric letters above the doors proclaimed, COMMON DINING HALL ONE.
“Know why they call it that?” Argos gestured at the sign.
“I’m assuming it’s because there are no class restrictions here?” The cheetah peered up at it.
“Correct, Spots,” Argos said. “Lots of places on the ship are only for this class, or that class, but anyone from First class to steerage is allowed into the Common Halls. Now, that don’t mean it’s free, and if you’re paying with the vouchers that come with a ticket…” The coyote glanced back. “Then what you’ll get for a steerage voucher ain’t the same as what you’ll get with a first class voucher, generally. But you’ll get something to fill your belly.” He paused, looking back across the long line. “As least, you usually would. Most of the refugees probably aren’t gonna have the sort of purchased-in-advance ticket that comes with meal vouchers. They’ll have to figure something out.” He grimaced, flicking an ear back. “Come on.”
Argos walked up to the attendant, and offered the kobold his friendliest smile. “Hello, my friend.” He opened his waistcoat, making sure the shorter lizard caught a glimpse of the ebony and silver badge pinned inside. Argos retrieved his billfold, and passed the kobold a valuable note. “I’m hoping my friend is still here. A female gray fox, purple dress. Got a badge like mine.”
The kobold tucked the money away. He returned Argos’s smile, flashing countless small, sharp teeth. “Ms. Iosa has a table in the back. A corner booth, near the piano.” He swept a clawed hand towards the doorway. “Enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you.” Argos breathed a sigh of relief, ushering Rivi inside. “That makes things way easier. But I bet you she stole my favorite seat.”
“You already have a favorite seat in here?” Rivi stuck close to Argos’s side.
“Not literally, Spots. I just like to sit at the back, with a view of the entrances and exits.” He gave the gnolls a friendly wave as they walked past. “Iosa likes the same thing, for the same reasons. Whoever gets here first usually claims the seat, and then we tease each other about it.”
The inside of the hall was even busier than the outside. Several lines of square shaped tables stretched on for dozens of rows. Each of them was packed with people. Waiters in crisp, white and gold uniforms rushed about, serving drinks and plates of food. Busboys cleared away tableware and poured drinking water. On either side of the hall, long murals were painted all across the walls. One depicted wildlife roaming a vast plain. The other held illustrations of famous landmarks glimpsed along their journey, from the ocean-dashed cliffs around Tavosa, to the fortified island city-states rising above fog and sea. Several large, illuminated clocks depicted the current time of a day in Tavosa, and the wildly different time zone of their eventual destination. Blue-white lights in long lines. Ceiling fans spun, stirring the air, and mingling the countless scents of people, and food.
Towards the back, a familiar, gray-furred vixen in a lilac dress stood up from a table in a corner. As a waiter deposited a fresh drink before her, Iosa waved an arm over her head, and Argos waved back. The coyote hurried to join her, glancing back now and then to make sure Rivi didn’t accidentally bowl over some poor waiter. When they reached the table, Iosa stared at the two of them with an all too familiar smirk upon her muzzle.
“Well,” Iosa said, smugness even thicker in her voice than in her smile. “If it isn’t the ship’s babysitter, and his newest charge! No wonder you’re late.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Argos started to pull out a chair. “Obviously, things didn’t go as-”
“Allow me, Mister Argos.” Rivi pulled the chair out, then stepped back. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Thanks, Spots.” Argos settled down, then gestured at another chair. “Have a seat, cat. I’ll tell Iosa what’s going on.”
“Um, actually…” Rivi scrunched his muzzle, glancing between the seated coyote, and the still standing vixen. “Shouldn’t we wait for Ms. Iosa to seat herself, first?” Then he looked at her chair, now well out behind her. “Would you like for me to get your chair for you, ma’am?”
Iosa put a hand to her chest. “Chivalry? In this day and age?” She smiled at Rivi. “Maybe you oughta be the one babysitting him.” Iosa waved at Argos. “He might learn a thing or two. But no, cheetah, I can get my chair. Thank you, though.” She turned back to Argos, giving him a pointed glare. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your charge, Mister Babysitter?”
Argos sighed as he scooted his chair up. “Iosa, this is Rivi. Rivi, that’s Iosa. There, now you’re introduced. Do you wanna hear what happened, or not?”
Iosa ignored him entirely. “A pleasure to meet you, Rivi.” She glanced at his hands. “I’ll not offer to shake your hand, as I see you’re not wearing your gloves this evening.”
A bright smile stretched across Rivi’s muzzle. “Oh, you’re familiar with our ways! I thank you for your thoughtfulness. And I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.” He bowed his head, hands folded. “I do hope you don’t mind me intruding on your dinner plans with Mister Argos.”
“Rivi…” Argos held up a hand. “I keep telling you, it’s just Argos.”
The cheetah nodded. “I remember, but upon meeting a new acquaintance, initial formality is important. It’s just the polite thing to do.”
“My, this one’s just made of manners.” Iosa settled into her chair, glancing at the cheetah. “Do be seated, please.”
“Thank you, Ms. Iosa.” Rivi sat down, and eased up to the table.
“You know, Argos,” Iosa said, scooting her chair forward. “If you play porter for this one long enough, you might learn something about being mannerly.”
Argos rested his elbow on the table, and put his muzzle against his hand. “Like what? I’m already Mister Fuckin’ Mannerly.”
Rivi giggled, folding his hands in his lap. “Yes, as evidenced by your frequent use of colorful language.”
“If you think that’s colorful,” Iosa said, leaning closer to Rivi. “You should hear him when he’s upset. Or courting someone.”
“Oh, my god.” Argos put his hand in his hands, groaning. “Where’s the fucking waiter?”
“Aww, sounds like someone hasn’t had his evening whiskey.” Iosa reached across the table, passing Argos thin, leather bound booklet. “There’s the bar’s listings. They’re low on dinner menus, but they’ll bring something around when they’re free.”
“Oh, don’t worry about him, Ms. Iosa.” Rivi smiled, his tail flicking. “He had plenty of whiskey back in our room.”
“I’m sorry, did you say our room?” Iosa’s eyes widened, and she gave a little vulpine yip of laughter. “Is that why I saw you carting off the cat’s luggage?” The vixen smirked, glancing at Rivi. “You must be even richer than you look if you’ve got the funds to bribe him to share his suite.”
Argos glared at her, then forced himself to look down at the liquor list. “It’s complicated, Iosa. Rivi is-”
“Actually, thus far Mister Argos has rebuffed all my attempts at remittance.” He perked his ears, and gave a happy little chirp. “Despite his coarse tongue and general lack of manners-”
Argos looked up, his ears back. “Alright, Rivi, why don’t you let me-”
“And overall menacing demeanor,” Rivi said, ignoring Argos’s attempts to quell him. “Mister Argos has proven to be quite sweet-natured, and kindhearted.”
Iosa burst into raucous vulpine laughter, slapping the table. “Aww, sweet little baby Argos!”
Argos slapped the menu down. “I am fuckin’ not!”
“Such a sweet little pup,” Iosa said, twisting her voice into a cooing mockery. “Sharing his room with his new friend, because he’s scared to be alone.”
“Shut the fuck up, Iosa.” Argos growled at her. “Keep it up, and I won’t even bother telling you why the cat’s rooming with me.”
Iosa tilted her head. “Is it because he brought you a nightlight?”
Argos drummed his fingers against the bar menu. “One more, and I’m gonna whip this at your head.” He scooted the edge of the leather booklet off the table.
The vixen only sat up straighter, making herself an even more inviting target. Then she glanced at Rivi, her ears half-back in vulpine smugness. “Did you bring him a teddy bear, too? He likes teddy bears.”
Argos his fingertips down against the edge of the book, flipping it up into the air. Then a single smooth motion, the coyote caught it and whipped across the table, aiming it straight for Iosa’s face. Without even blinking, Iosa snatched it out of the air, just before it hit her muzzle. She set it back down on the table, her hands atop it.
“And now you’re not getting it back.” Iosa smiled at him. “So I hope you’re happy with-”
At the same time, Argos lunged across the table himself, grabbing Iosa’s drink. “Distraction ploy!” Before she could react, he was already back in his seat with her cocktail. “Don’t need the menu, anyway.”
“How…” Rivi gaped at Iosa. “How did you…” Then he turned to Argos. “And why did you…”
“Don’t worry about it, Spots. We always do this shit.” He lifted the glass in a mocking toast. “To victory.” Then he took a long sip.
“Well played, Argos. Well played.” Iosa splayed her ears. “I hope you like ginger.”
Argos fought back a cough as the cocktail’s heavy ginger and spice flavor washed over his tongue, and down his throat. “Fuckin’…” His voice was hoarse. “Love it.”
“He doesn’t.” Iosa pushed the drinks list over to Rivi. “Here, cat. Find yourself something good to drink. It’s on me. Dinner, too, whenever I can get a waiter back.” She raised her hand, signaling for a server’s attention.
“I have money…” Rivi scowled, glancing between the other two. His ears slowly went back. “I’m sorry, just for my own clarification…” He swallowed, licking his muzzle. “Are you two angry, now? Did I say the wrong thing, Argos?” Rivi shifted in his seat, squirming as if suddenly unable to get comfortable. “I was attempting to be complimentary to your good nature.”
“You’re fine, Spots. This is just how we are.” Argos took another sip, grimacing at the overpowering flavor of sugared ginger. At least the second sip wasn’t as harsh as the first. He set the glass down. “And I appreciate the thought, just…” He waved his hand. “Maybe next time, don’t start out by telling my partner I’m secretly a big softie.”
Rivi rubbed his muzzle. “Why not? Oh, is it because…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s not considered a beneficial quality among the secret police?”
“No, Rivi.” Argos twisted the glass back and forth on the table. “It’s because Iosa and I are always looking for new knives to shank each other with.” He tapped a finger against the glassware stem. “Metaphorically speaking.”
Iosa picked up a steak knife from atop a folded napkin, staring at. “Mostly metaphorically.” Then the vixen blinked, setting her knife back down and turning to Rivi. “I’m sorry, did you say secret police?”
“Yes!” Rivi nodded a few times, his voice still hushed. “But don’t, I won’t tell anyone your secret.” He put a hand to his muzzle, trying to fight back a fresh round of chirruping, feline giggles. “Your…secret police…secret!”
Argos stared at him, an amused grin creeping across the coyote’s muzzle. “This is you sober, huh?”
Rivi kept going, his giggles getting louder. “The secret…of the secret policeman’s…secret!” Then his ears perked up. “Oh, it’s like the alliterative titles of Shadow Justice episodes!” Rivi lowered his voice into something deeper, like brassy voiced radio announcer, compressed down into a raspy murmur. “The Socially Sobering, Society Scarring Secret of the Secretive Policeman’s Secretive Secret!”
Iosa stared at Rivi the same way before turning her eyes to Argos. “You know, Argos, if you and your new friend were going to smoke something special together, you could have invited me.”
Argos chuckled, taking another drink of Iosa’s ginger-bomb. “I’m pretty sure Rivi’s never smoked anything in his life. Though, I’m kinda wishing we had, right now. I think he’s having more fun than we are.”
“I’m sorry…” Rivi kept giggling. He shook his head, trying to wave the two of them off, as if embarrassed by their stares. “I’m just…” He sighed as his cackling mirth finally wound down. “I’m very tired.”
“I know, Spots.” Argos reached over to pat Rivi’s arm. “I know. Let’s get some food, and then you can get to bed.”
Rivi smiled, opening up the drinks booklet to peruse it. “That sounds nice.”
“Oh, you really are babysitting him, aren’t you?” Iosa leaned back, folding her arms. “I think I see what’s going on here.”
Argos groaned, rubbing his head, just beneath an ear. “Iosa, please don’t start.”
The vixen smiled, leaning closer to Rivi. “You’re right about Argos, by the way. He is a big softie. He likes to project menace on the outside, but inside, he’s all kindness and idealism. He just hates it when people point it out.”
“Cause I’ve done way too many bad things, to ever be anything other than a bad person.” Argos rested his arm over the back of his chair, looking away. “Besides, I got a reputation, for shit’s sake. I’m a fuckin’ Orphan.”
Rivi lifted his head from the menu, his brows knitted, ears back. “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Argos. And whatever unpleasantness the secret police have forced you to engage in, the divines will always offer forgiveness, if you express genuine remorse for your actions.” Rivi glanced between the two of them. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t inject my beliefs. But…” He reached out, gently brushing his hand across Argos’s arm. “And I feel I must tell you, that your parentage or lack thereof has no bearing whatsoever on the character of your heart.”
A grin crept across Argos’s muzzle. The cat’s attempts at comfort were genuinely touching, if misplaced. “Thanks, Spots. I appreciate the thought, at least. Not that kinda orphan, though. I mean, technically, I’m that kind of orphan, too, but…” He trialed off, looking up at Iosa.
The vixen held her hands up. “Don’t look at me. You already said it.”
Argos grimaced, turning his attention back to Rivi. “Orphan, in this case, is kind of like a name. Think of it as the unit that Iosa and I belong to.”
“Oh!” Rivi sucked in a breath. “You mean your…” He lowered his voice again. “Secret police unit?”
Iosa signaled for a server again. “What did you tell him we do?”
“I didn’t tell him nothing.” Argos twisted around, looking for the server Iosa was trying to attract. He cleared his throat, and then gave a single, loud, howl. The sound echoed around the restaurant, louder even than all the many, rumbling voices. People pinned ears back, or clapped hands across them. Others turned to stare at their table. When the server looked as well, Argos waved him over. “And that’s how you do it.”
“No, that’s how you make a server angry.” Iosa rolled her eyes. “And end up with someone spitting in your food.”
“I was tired of waiting.” Argos turned back to the others. “Besides, he ain’t gonna be so irritable when I slip him a big tip to go with our drink orders.”
“You’d better.” Iosa clenched her jaw, her head tilted. “And if you didn’t tell the cat anything, then why does he think…” She glanced over at Rivi. “What he clearly thinks?”
Rivi tapped the side of his muzzle with a single finger, then winked.
Argos did his best to ignore the feline. “I had to flash my badge to scare off that wolf. He’s just kind put his own little narrative together in his head.”
“It certainly put a scare into that malevolent miscreant,” Rivi said. Then he wrinkled up his nose. “Come to think of it though, didn’t he refer to you as a ghost?”
Argos scratched one of his ears. “Ghost is kinda like the broader division. Orphan is a unit of that division. Make sense?”
“I suppose so.” Rivi leaned back in his chair, his tail swishing through the opening behind him. “I probably shouldn’t be asking these questions, should I?”
“Those terms aren’t always widely known, but they’re not exactly state secrets,” Iosa said. “Though, you probably don’t want to ask too many more questions, about what we do.”
Before anyone else could reply, the server approached. He was a tired looking human, with short, slightly graying hair, and a crisply pressed uniform. The server set printed menus down in front of Argos, and Rivi. “Good evening, Sirs. I do apologize for the wait.” A hint of irritation crept into his voice. “As you can see, we’re quite busy this evening.” He retrieved a writing pad from a pocket, along with a pen. “May I take your drink orders while you peruse the dinner options? Please note, the hare is no longer available.”
“I’ll have a Black Mountain.” Argos offered the waiter his most charming, human-approved smile. Just a few teeth, and his ears perked in friendly display. “The lady, I assume, will have another one of these.” He tapped the glass he’d stolen from Iosa.
“You assume correctly.” She gave the human a very similar smile. “I do apologize for my embarrassingly uncouth friend, here. It’s his first time out in public.”
Argos dug his billfold out. “I also apologize for the noise.” He retrieved an especially large note, folded it twice, and discretely passed it up to the server. “And so does my friend here.”
The server tucked it away, his smile swiftly turning genuinely. “Think nothing of it, Sir.” He turned towards Rivi. “For the other gentlemen?”
Rivi lifted the menu, pointing to an item on it. “This Crystal River lager. It’s not too effervescent, is it? I’ve not eaten all day, and too much effervescence can wreak havoc on my empty stomach.”
“No, sir. It’s not especially heavily carbonated.” The server waved his pen. “Further more, it’s brewed locally here in Tavosa. Given the current circumstances unfolding, it might be your last time to try it.”
The cheetah looked down at the menu again. “I suppose that’s true. Very well, I’ll have one of those, please.”
“Certainly, sir.” The server wrote down the order, and then backed away, smiling. “I’ll return momentarily with your drinks, and take your food orders then.”
Argos picked up the menu, scanning it. Unlike the leatherbound drinks list, it was block printed in black lettering on a single, thick sheet of paper. A few little stains and fingerprints spoke of heavy use already. The offerings were divided into three sections, for first class and VIP passengers at the top, another for steerage passengers at the bottom, and everyone else in the middle. Each section had several options for courses, along with prices listed for those without meal vouchers.
The first class section listed three possible entrees, including a roasted hare with red wine sauce, baked whitefish with a lemon cream sauce, and a dish of sliced duck with cranberries and orange. In addition, each course was presented with its own set of accompaniments and side dishes, plus a soup, and a dessert. The listing of hare had been lazily scratched out with a pencil. Further down the menu, lower tier offerings were the same way, but with simpler dishes like meat loafs and mashed potatoes, or a chopped meat sandwich.
“Do you suppose they’re actually out of hare, or just saving a few of them?” Argos licked his muzzle. “Cause I ain’t had hare in ages.”
“Couldn’t hurt to ask.” Iosa gazed at the menu. “That’s what I had, while I was waiting for you to show up. It was excellent. I think the waiter said they sautéed the heart and liver with red wine, shallots, and garlic, for the sauce.” The vixen gave a happy sigh. “I’m getting hungry again just thinking about it.”
Rivi studied the menu, speaking without looking up. “Do you ever find it odd, that we eat hares?”
Argos glanced over at him. “Can’t say as I find it odd to eat any animal. Why?”
The cheetah looked up, his head quizzically tilted. “It’s just that some animals bare a more striking resemblance to certain peoples than others. For example, if you were seated at a table with a rabbit, and you ordered hare, do you think they’d take offense?”
The coyote gave a little bark of laughter. “Don’t know, don’t care. They ain’t the only thing that looks like something else, after all. I’ve eaten snake, and lizard. You think the kobolds get offended? They both got scales.”
Rivi flicked his ears back. “I suppose that’s a good point. But then again, it wasn’t as if our two peoples were terrorizing the kobolds, in the barbaric eras. We didn’t even know of kobolds, before the fractures. I should imagine it’s different for the rabbits, and antelope, and the like.”
The coyote finished off Iosa’s drink. “Maybe. Can’t say as I ever really think about it. The way I see it, it don’t really matter what an animal looks like. As long as it don’t think and speak like we do, it ain’t people. And if ain’t people, we can eat it.”
“I imagine that’s how most of the world looks at it.” Rivi looked at the menu again, only to lift his eyes a moment later. “What about birds, though? They tweet and talk and communicate, don’t they? For that matter, animals can bark and howl and chatter and communicate together, in their own way. And we can make some of those noises. Doesn’t that make it harder to draw the line?”
Iosa reached over and pointed to Rivi’s menu. “If you just want the salad, that’s fine. No one’s going to care. They even have a legume soup.”
“What?” Rivi gave her a confused look, before recognition dawned upon him. “Oh, no, no. I’m going to have the duck. I’m just making conversation.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Or at least, trying to. I have a tendency to say the wrong things to the wrong people, though.”
“Spots here is a scholar.” Argos waved at him. “Got a head full of all the world’s knowledge, and not near enough people to share it with. I figure, asking those scholarly sorts of questions is just what he does to pass the time.”
“Something like that.” Rivi glanced between the two of them. “I can just be quiet, if you prefer. I know you two probably have things to discuss.”
Iosa clicked her teeth, shaking her head. “Nonsense, Rivi. You’re already far more interesting than the scruffy old bore sitting across from me.” She held a finger up. “Hold that thought, though, our server is returning.”
The human carried a tray with three drinks upon it, along with a pitcher of water and a trio of glasses. He set the tray upon the table, then placed the pitcher of water at the table’s center, and passed out the glasses, and the drinks. Argos’s whiskey cocktail was served in a short, square glass with an equally square ice cube, while Iosa’s ginger-flavored concoction came in a taller, curvy vessel. Rivi’s lager was presented in a large, glass mug with a handle. All three pieces of glassware were engraved with the familiar three-star logo of Black Star Intercontinental. The server placed the empty glass back on the try, and then retrieved his writing pad and pen.
“Are you ready to place your food orders?” The human smiled, his expression warmer than before, as if Argos’s generous donation had improved his whole day. “Or would you like a few more minutes to decide?”
“Question, actually.” Argos pointed to the hare listing. “Is the hare actually off the menu, or is it possible the chef might be able to find one, should say, a few more bank notes fall out of my wallet and into his hands? Along with another that might end up in yours.”
The server chuckled, glancing around. He lowered his voice. “We’re out of hares, but we do have enough sauce left for a few more servings. And I believe Common Hall Two still has a few hares left, should someone from the kitchen be inclined to run across the ship and purloin one.”
Argos smiled, his ears up. He quickly retrieved a few more valuable bills, and passed them to the server. “See that they’re so inclined.”
“Yes, sir.” The server stashed the money away, then turned to Iosa. “Would the lady care to place any additional orders?”
Iosa glanced at the menu, twisting up her muzzle in thought. “I’m still full, but I suspect the more alcohol I consume while they’re eating, the more I’m going to want something else. Could you bring me one those meat and cheese plates I saw? And some fried potatoes.” She gestured at Rivi. “But just bring them with his order, I don’t need them yet. The other two will help me, I’m sure.”
“Very good, ma’am.” The waiter turned his attention to the cheetah next. “And for the feline gentlemen?”
“The duck, please.” Rivi skimmed the menu again. “Are the courses all inclusive, or can we swap items around?”
“They’re the chefs recommended pairings, however…” The server wrote down Rivi’s order. “You’re welcome to order as you like. However, I should note that due to the current circumstances, all the courses save for dessert are being served together, for expediency’s sake.”
“That’s fine. Dessert is actually what I’d like to change. I should rather the blueberry crème brulee, than the vanilla trifle, please.” Rivi set his menu on the waiter’s tray. “The soup and everything else are fine.”
“Certainly, sir.” The waiter made the change, and then scooped up the tray. “Will the two gentlemen be paying separately? If you have meal vouchers, I’ll need your room numbers for confirmation.”
“Just put everything on my tab,” Iosa said, passing the waiter the menu.
Argos handed up his menu, too. “And bring their food as soon as it’s ready. I know mine’s gonna take longer, so no need to keep them waiting.”
“Very good, sir.” The waiter took a step back, his smile ever present. “Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you in the meantime.”
As the server walked off, Argos turned towards the cheetah. “Well, Cat, I know it’s been a long fuckin’ day for you. And a difficult one, too.”
Rivi fidgeted with his tableware. “In more ways than one, yes. And I must thank you again, for your kindness.”
“Ain’t nothin’, but you’re welcome just the same.” Argos picked up his glass. “So, here’s to finally-”
“Are you ever going to tell me why you’ve invited Rivi into your room?” Iosa sipped her drink, grinning smugly at the coyote.
Argos grunted, setting his glass back down. “Did you wait until I was about to make a toast, on purpose?”
“Yes.” Iosa took another drink. “I did.”
“It’s actually quite a long story,” Rivi said. “You see, a little over a month ago-”
“Spots.” Argos held his hand up. “Lemme give her the short version for now, if you don’t mind.”
Rivi blinked, tracing his finger along his beer mug’s handle. “Yes, that’s probably for the best.”
“You can always correct me if I get anything wrong.” The coyote turned his attention back to Iosa. “Rivi here is a religious scholar, on a pilgrimage. He hired a guide, only for the piece of shit to abandon him when things went bad everywhere. Poor Rivi’s struggling to travel on his own the last month, or so. Was supposed to be traveling on The Bridgehead, but missed his voyage. Only place they could fit him on this one was steerage. Which, I think you’ll agree…” Argos trailed off, gesturing at Rivi.
Iosa scrunched her muzzle. “Would eat him alive. Yes, I see why you’ve taken in another stray.” She glanced at Rivi, offering him a smile. “No offense, cheetah.”
Rivi gave a slightly frustrated sigh. “I’ve heard that a lot, today. But I know you’re both right. I’m not exactly…” He scowled, ears back. “Worldly.”
“No, you ain’t, Spots,” Argos said, smiling. “No, you ain’t. But by the end of this voyage, maybe you will be. You got me lookin’ after you now, and I got a hell of a lot to teach you. With any luck, the worst of it’s all behind you, now. So…” Argos picked up his glass, glancing at Iosa to make sure she wasn’t planning to interrupt him again. “Here’s to finally being able to relax.”
“Oh, yes!” Rivi lifted his mug. “To relaxing. And…” He licked his muzzle. “And for the first time in far too long…” A shy smile brightened his face. “To feeling welcome.”
