ELEVEN

SIR

I was quite pleased with the time I’d spent with little one so far. She was proving to be even more intelligent than I had hoped—all her questions about the workings of my ship showed a quick and lively mind. I was beginning to think I might really enjoy having a sentient pet—though I knew plenty of people who said they were more trouble than they were worth.

But so far, I found little one adorable, whether she was struggling to climb up onto my furniture—which was apparently twice the size of what she was used to—or trying to comprehend how my ship’s Matter Synthesizer worked.

I was also cautiously relieved that I had found something she could and would eat. For a mern back in the food prep area, I had been afraid I would have to discipline her, which I didn’t like to do. I was growing more and more fond of her and I didn’t like to see her unhappy or upset.

I knew there were some—many actually—among my people who would have frowned at the way I had allowed her to negotiate with me about her meals. Most Korrigon Masters would have forced her to eat the human chow I had synthesized for her instead of allowing her to try the nutritional gel cubes which were our primary nourishment. Probably, I should have made her eat the chow, I told myself. But she was so small and delicate and adorable that I couldn’t help being won over by her sweet and pleading arguments to try something else instead.

After we sealed our bond, I would be able to link minds with her and relay what I found there to the Matter Synthesizer to make foods she really liked, I thought with anticipation. I liked the idea of seeing her happy and excited to have her own kind of food. But that couldn’t happen until we formed and sealed our bond, which was what I wanted to work on today, along with her training.

I started by synthesizing her a collar, just as I had promised her the night before. It was a dainty, golden one which fastened around her neck most fetchingly. An identification tag carved from a solid ruby hung in the hollow of her throat—it had my name and contact coordinates carved on it in the language of my home world, as well as the universal language of the universe we were currently traveling through.

At first little one seemed unhappy about the collar and tried to take it off. However, when I explained that it had a voice pattern lock and she was required to wear it as part of her training, she settled down and stopped attempting to remove it.

Next, I synthesized a leash and fastened it to the collar to show her how to walk with me when we were out in public. By Korrigon custom, a pet must stay to one side and a little behind his or her master as they walk together. Little one mastered this quickly. She also learned to kneel in abeyance by my side when I stopped walking, leaning against my leg patiently until I gave her the signal to continue.

We practiced walking on a leash, stopping at the right time, and kneeling in abeyance all morning until I was satisfied she had everything down pat. She followed all my commands obediently and perfectly, so I thought the next step would be no problem. However, when I told her what the next lesson was, she seemed upset…