Hunting Trip

 

 

“ZOO?” HIGH GENERAL Garit said. “Really, Jedao?”

Jedao, who was driving the car, glanced over to assess Garit’s expression, although the high general’s tone of voice told him everything he needed to know. Garit had invited him along on this damned trip to a hunting preserve because Garit was desperate to bag a gray tiger. Alongside his record with firearms, Jedao had made the mistake of letting drop that he had grown up hunting. He had tried to point out that going after pesky deer and jackalopes was not the same as gray tigers, but Garit had merely clapped him on the back and told him not to be so modest. Modesty had nothing to do with it. On top of the stupid expense per round, the recoil on the ammo that Jedao was going to have to use was proportionate to something with its stopping power, and he wasn’t looking forward to the ache in his shoulder.

“Just for an hour or two,” Jedao said coaxingly. “My mom and my siblings wanted me to send home some vacation photos. And I promised my nieces that I would bring them some souvenirs. Maybe the zoo’s shop will have some mounted skeletons or the like.”

“You spoil those kids rotten,” Garit said with a snort.

“What are uncles for?” Jedao said. One of the great regrets of his life was that his job kept him away from his family for long periods of time. The girls grew so fast. “Besides, the folks down at the shop might have some tips for hunters.”

Garit shook his head, amused. “You’re transparent, but all right.”

The zoo was not particularly busy. The two of them were off-duty, and the young woman who told them about the zoo regulations either didn’t recognize them or didn’t care, which Jedao found congenial. Jedao then persuaded Garit to come with him into the zoo proper so Jedao could snap some photos.

Jedao fiddled with the manual exposure, trying to get the black panther to show up in its cave. The camera had been a gift from his brother, and was practically an antique. Jedao was not especially gifted at taking pictures that pleased his family (“These look like reconnaissance photos,” his sister had once complained, “who cares about all this kill zone stuff when you’re snapping pics of an engagement party?”) so he had resolved to do better.

“That’s the oddest damned fox I’ve ever seen,” Garit said, pointing.

Jedao gave up on the exposure and settled for a muddled silhouette in the shadows. “Beg pardon?” he asked.

They strolled closer to the enclosure Garit had indicated to take a look. A reddish, bushy-tailed creature was taking a nap in the branches of a tree. Bamboo shoots sprouted not far away. Some of them looked like they’d been gnawed on.

“That’s not a fox,” Jedao said, reading the enclosure’s label. “Red panda. Apparently they eat bamboo. And sometimes birds and things.”

“It’s kind of cute,” Garit said grudgingly. “Doesn’t look like much of a challenge, though.”

Jedao thought that coddled zoo creatures were unlikely to be much challenge in general, but he didn’t say anything that would give Garit the idea of adding another kind of animal to his wishlist for this trip. “My nieces will like it,” he said, and raised his camera.

“We should catch you one to take home to them,” Garit said.

Jedao made a face. “Have you ever looked at the customs forms for importing wildlife? I’m pretty sure those critters don’t exist on my homeworld.”

“Well, I’ll look into expediting it as a favor to you if you can help me with my tiger problem,” Garit said.

“That’s very kind of you,” Jedao said, as diplomatically as he could, “but my nieces are notoriously good at killing goldfish. Let’s leave the red pandas alone and hit up the shop so I can buy bat skeletons or fox-eared hats or something, and we can head to the hunting grounds.”

 

 

Author’s Note

 

In most regards, Jedao and I are complete opposites (I am rock stone stupid at tactics and games and he’s supposed to be good at tactics, I have perfect pitch and compose orchestral music for fun while he sucks at music, etc.), but he and I are both hapless at cameras. One of my uncles was a photographer at one point, and my dad used to be a pretty good amateur up until the point someone stole his analog SLR, but I regret to report that it’s not genetic. I stick to cat pics because my cat is innately photogenic and leave it at that.

The bat skeleton is a nod to the bat skeleton from Paxton Gate in San Francisco, which sells ethically sourced taxidermy, that my sister bought for my daughter for one of her birthdays. It was one of the treasures that survived the 2016 flood and she still has it today.