It's Everywhere
Oct. 9th, 2011 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hwrnmnbsolMyra pulled her suit out of the closet and scowled. The bottom of the skirt was covered with hundreds of honey-colored hairs. She brushed at them with her free hand – a pointless gesture, as she well knew. The strands weren't going anywhere.
"Paul!" she shouted. "Lulu got into my closet again!"
"I know, I caught her in there this morning," Paul called from the bathroom. "I think you left the door ajar."
"I never leave the door ajar," muttered Myra to herself, frustrated. She lay the suit on the bed and pulled a lint roller out of her dresser drawer. They bought them in bulk at CostCo. Myra attacked the suit with the roller. It removed most of the fur, but not all of it. Myra picked up the skirt and looked at it critically.
Lulu, a golden retriever, chose that moment to stroll in, tongue lolling appealingly. "Bad dog!" said Myra, pointing accusingly at Lulu with the roller. Lulu's tail wagged. She didn't seem sorry.
"Sweetheart," said Paul, walking out of the bathroom in his underwear, "I love our pets, really I do. But someday, when they're dead and gone, I'd like to go a few years without having fur all over the house."
"Yes, I know, but… SASHA!" The black Maine coon cat had walked on Myra's jacket, which was still lying on the bed. Myra scooped it, dumping Sasha off unceremoniously, and tried to scuff loose the black hairs that clung to the lapels. It worked, somewhat.
Myra hopped into her skirt. "I'm getting out of here before these guys do any more damage," she said, stepping into her shoes. She hustled out the front door, with Lulu brushing up against her happily, and batted at the ever-present fur that coated everything as she walked to her car.
She drove the winding foggy road towards Portland. The Observers monitored her from their invisible craft, hovering only a few tens of yards above the road.
"Conditions are ideal for a sampling," intoned Gorryx, its rear palps massaging the imaging controls. "Low visibility, no traffic. Is she protected?"
Urybho's tendrils played over the bioscience display. Sensitive scans played over Myra's convertible, sniffing chemicals, tasting her. Something crawled across the monitor and blinked.
"Yes, unfortunately," Urybho proclaimed, as a zoomed-in image of a Lulu hair swam in the display. "She is well screened."
"Curse it!" grunted Gorryx, slapping the craft bulkhead in irritation. "How many years have we been working this iteration, trying to get a female of breeding age with viable eggs? To be turned aside, again and again, by a simple matter of allergens!..." Gorryx tailed off, its vocalizations devolving into a series of meaningless gurgles and snorts.
"Calm yourself," Urybho soothed. "We must be patient. We've been sampling them for sixty thousand years, and we've always managed to get our breeding pair every time we return. We'll succeed again, have no fear." One of its spade-like flippers stroked Gorryx's thorax, but Gorryx shrugged it away.
"I say we take her anyway," Gorryx grumped. "Darts to the nape, grab her with the claw. We could put her in a decontamination bubble remotely; we could scrub her for days – weeks, if you like. She can be cleansed, Urybho; it's not exactly rocket science…."
"You're being foolish," Urybho chided. It fixed Gorryx with a serious rheumatic eye and couched its next words carefully. "I take it that I don’t need to remind you about Egypt."
Out of instinct alone, Gorryx flinched; all six of its manipulative arms withdrew reflexively into its segmented body. Five of the arms ended in a trefoil fingered claw; the sixth was a ragged stump, the flesh seemingly burned away and never quite healed, the claw completely absent and the forearm considerably truncated.
"I haven't forgotten Egypt," Gorryx said hollowly. The humans had been keeping pets for a long time – since before the Observers had started visiting them, in fact – and the dog allergy and its lethal effects had been well documented by the initial contact group well before that. It was the Egyptians, however, who had raised the keeping of cats to an art form. Their love of the animals was so universal that the fur and dander could not be escaped anywhere in the Nile delta. Gorryx had learned this the hard way. It had been fairly careful, but a two millimeter whisker had escaped its notice during the sampling, and it touched it with its bare skin. Only Urybho's quick actions with the cauterizer had saved Gorryx's life.
"Good," said Urybho firmly. "Then it's decided. This female is not worth the risk. We must continue our search for a breeding pair that is clean." It regarded Gorryx fondly. Gorryx had withdrawn into a subdued heap of misery.
"Now, don't be like that," added Urybho, chucking Gorryx companionably on the dorsal ridge. "This can't be that hard. I refuse to believe that all humans keep pets. Why, we know from our previous samplings that some of them are allergic to the beasts themselves!"
"Yes, but that doesn't matter!" Gorryx wailed. "They've bred the animals selectively in the intervening generations. They seem to have selected beasts with exceptionally fine fur and powdery dander. The transference properties of the substances alone guarantee that even those who have had only incidental or tertiary contact with the biologicals will be carriers!" Gorryx unbunched itself and snapped one of its sets of clawed fingers.
"In fact," said Gorryx suspiciously, "it's only just occurred to me now, but I wouldn't be surprised if the humans aren't onto us. The rise in hazard levels for these samplings alone is rather damning evidence, wouldn't you say? What are the odds that it's all just a…"
"… coincidence?" concluded Urybho skeptically. Its palps worked, and the view of Myra's convertible grew large in the viewer. Myra drove well, hugging the curves of the road, her hair blowing back in the breeze. Urybho tapped the screen with its longest digit.
"Does that," it said, "look like a human who is 'onto us'?"
Gorryx stared down at the image. "No," it replied finally. It sighed, a very human-like sigh. "No, I suppose not."
"I suppose not as well," Urybho said, not unkindly. It stroked Gorryx's back and then poked at the craft's controls.
"Come on," Urybho said as the conveyance broke off shadowing Myra and banked invisibly in the sky.
"Let's see what else we can find, shall we?"
The Observers passed over Paul and Myra's house on their way over the ridge of hills to the next county. The craft passed overhead without a sound and with no disturbance in air movement patterns. Nevertheless, out in the back yard, Lulu tracked the alien ship perfectly, her muzzle following it as it flashed across the sky.
In the windowsill, Sasha watched the Observers go as well, her tail lashing. Lulu turned to glance at Sasha, and their eyes met briefly. A knowing look passed between cat and dog, a simple sort of acknowledgement. Then Lulu was rolling in the grass, and Sasha was grooming herself.
Sitting on the bed, Paul clucked in disappointment and held up his argyle socks. A mélange of Sasha's and Lulu's fur was woven in among the patterns, a kind of chaotic overlay on the human-generated order.
That is never coming out, Paul said to himself. Never.
"Paul!" she shouted. "Lulu got into my closet again!"
"I know, I caught her in there this morning," Paul called from the bathroom. "I think you left the door ajar."
"I never leave the door ajar," muttered Myra to herself, frustrated. She lay the suit on the bed and pulled a lint roller out of her dresser drawer. They bought them in bulk at CostCo. Myra attacked the suit with the roller. It removed most of the fur, but not all of it. Myra picked up the skirt and looked at it critically.
Lulu, a golden retriever, chose that moment to stroll in, tongue lolling appealingly. "Bad dog!" said Myra, pointing accusingly at Lulu with the roller. Lulu's tail wagged. She didn't seem sorry.
"Sweetheart," said Paul, walking out of the bathroom in his underwear, "I love our pets, really I do. But someday, when they're dead and gone, I'd like to go a few years without having fur all over the house."
"Yes, I know, but… SASHA!" The black Maine coon cat had walked on Myra's jacket, which was still lying on the bed. Myra scooped it, dumping Sasha off unceremoniously, and tried to scuff loose the black hairs that clung to the lapels. It worked, somewhat.
Myra hopped into her skirt. "I'm getting out of here before these guys do any more damage," she said, stepping into her shoes. She hustled out the front door, with Lulu brushing up against her happily, and batted at the ever-present fur that coated everything as she walked to her car.
She drove the winding foggy road towards Portland. The Observers monitored her from their invisible craft, hovering only a few tens of yards above the road.
"Conditions are ideal for a sampling," intoned Gorryx, its rear palps massaging the imaging controls. "Low visibility, no traffic. Is she protected?"
Urybho's tendrils played over the bioscience display. Sensitive scans played over Myra's convertible, sniffing chemicals, tasting her. Something crawled across the monitor and blinked.
"Yes, unfortunately," Urybho proclaimed, as a zoomed-in image of a Lulu hair swam in the display. "She is well screened."
"Curse it!" grunted Gorryx, slapping the craft bulkhead in irritation. "How many years have we been working this iteration, trying to get a female of breeding age with viable eggs? To be turned aside, again and again, by a simple matter of allergens!..." Gorryx tailed off, its vocalizations devolving into a series of meaningless gurgles and snorts.
"Calm yourself," Urybho soothed. "We must be patient. We've been sampling them for sixty thousand years, and we've always managed to get our breeding pair every time we return. We'll succeed again, have no fear." One of its spade-like flippers stroked Gorryx's thorax, but Gorryx shrugged it away.
"I say we take her anyway," Gorryx grumped. "Darts to the nape, grab her with the claw. We could put her in a decontamination bubble remotely; we could scrub her for days – weeks, if you like. She can be cleansed, Urybho; it's not exactly rocket science…."
"You're being foolish," Urybho chided. It fixed Gorryx with a serious rheumatic eye and couched its next words carefully. "I take it that I don’t need to remind you about Egypt."
Out of instinct alone, Gorryx flinched; all six of its manipulative arms withdrew reflexively into its segmented body. Five of the arms ended in a trefoil fingered claw; the sixth was a ragged stump, the flesh seemingly burned away and never quite healed, the claw completely absent and the forearm considerably truncated.
"I haven't forgotten Egypt," Gorryx said hollowly. The humans had been keeping pets for a long time – since before the Observers had started visiting them, in fact – and the dog allergy and its lethal effects had been well documented by the initial contact group well before that. It was the Egyptians, however, who had raised the keeping of cats to an art form. Their love of the animals was so universal that the fur and dander could not be escaped anywhere in the Nile delta. Gorryx had learned this the hard way. It had been fairly careful, but a two millimeter whisker had escaped its notice during the sampling, and it touched it with its bare skin. Only Urybho's quick actions with the cauterizer had saved Gorryx's life.
"Good," said Urybho firmly. "Then it's decided. This female is not worth the risk. We must continue our search for a breeding pair that is clean." It regarded Gorryx fondly. Gorryx had withdrawn into a subdued heap of misery.
"Now, don't be like that," added Urybho, chucking Gorryx companionably on the dorsal ridge. "This can't be that hard. I refuse to believe that all humans keep pets. Why, we know from our previous samplings that some of them are allergic to the beasts themselves!"
"Yes, but that doesn't matter!" Gorryx wailed. "They've bred the animals selectively in the intervening generations. They seem to have selected beasts with exceptionally fine fur and powdery dander. The transference properties of the substances alone guarantee that even those who have had only incidental or tertiary contact with the biologicals will be carriers!" Gorryx unbunched itself and snapped one of its sets of clawed fingers.
"In fact," said Gorryx suspiciously, "it's only just occurred to me now, but I wouldn't be surprised if the humans aren't onto us. The rise in hazard levels for these samplings alone is rather damning evidence, wouldn't you say? What are the odds that it's all just a…"
"… coincidence?" concluded Urybho skeptically. Its palps worked, and the view of Myra's convertible grew large in the viewer. Myra drove well, hugging the curves of the road, her hair blowing back in the breeze. Urybho tapped the screen with its longest digit.
"Does that," it said, "look like a human who is 'onto us'?"
Gorryx stared down at the image. "No," it replied finally. It sighed, a very human-like sigh. "No, I suppose not."
"I suppose not as well," Urybho said, not unkindly. It stroked Gorryx's back and then poked at the craft's controls.
"Come on," Urybho said as the conveyance broke off shadowing Myra and banked invisibly in the sky.
"Let's see what else we can find, shall we?"
The Observers passed over Paul and Myra's house on their way over the ridge of hills to the next county. The craft passed overhead without a sound and with no disturbance in air movement patterns. Nevertheless, out in the back yard, Lulu tracked the alien ship perfectly, her muzzle following it as it flashed across the sky.
In the windowsill, Sasha watched the Observers go as well, her tail lashing. Lulu turned to glance at Sasha, and their eyes met briefly. A knowing look passed between cat and dog, a simple sort of acknowledgement. Then Lulu was rolling in the grass, and Sasha was grooming herself.
Sitting on the bed, Paul clucked in disappointment and held up his argyle socks. A mélange of Sasha's and Lulu's fur was woven in among the patterns, a kind of chaotic overlay on the human-generated order.
That is never coming out, Paul said to himself. Never.
